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a-case-of-attachment · 7 months

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The Lamb & The Serpent

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Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, slow burn, mentions of depression, Charlie being the best supportive daughter, awkwardness, mentioned of death and violence, ducks of the rubber kind, Lucifer being awkward, fluff.

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The day Lucifer manages to fuck up a perfectly good friendship by realising he wants more from you is the day he walks in on you and Angel Dust watching his latest porn video like it’s a documentary and not a three way that looks more painful then pleasurable.

It’s the middle of the day, the two of you down in the parlour, spread over the largest couch and acting like it’s no big deal to be watching a friend get split open by an aggressively large rhino looking man and an equally intimidating elephant guy whose trunk isn’t the only big thing he’s packing. Though to the little porn star it probably isn’t anything all that unusual and by the way he’s going on, talking about camera angles and lighting you would think it was some kind art piece. Anyway, it’s not the porn that has Lucifer questioning his life, though that stirs something at the back of his mind that he will circle back round to latter. Much latter. When he’s alone. Preferably in his bedroom. No what Lucifer realises is that he wants to be where Angel Dust is.

The lanky demon was stretched across the sofa, his bare feet in your lap so you could slowly rub your thumbs into his soles as you both spoke about the film like it wasn’t a crass tasteless violation of the man. It looked so domestic, peaceful and Lucifer wanted that to be you and him with a desperation he hadn’t felt in centuries. Though maybe with his head in your lap instead of his feet, your fingers carding softly through his hair as the two of you just exist together in the same shared space. Oh, he could almost feel it, the ghost of a feeling that he hadn’t had in so long.

It was round about then, as Lucifer was just about to get lost in his little fantasy that Angel noticed he was there, eyes going wide momentarily before a suggestive smile spread across his face. He had made a rather unwanted comment about Lucifer not needing to “hide all the way back there handsome, there’s plenty of room for you to slide right in. Or maybe you want a private show? I could go for a little quality time with daddy.” Lucifer wasn’t. Interested that is. Well not in Angel Dust anyway. “Noooo. No, no, no. Non. Nein. Nee. Just no,” Lucifer had repeated himself several times, just to make sure he got his point across and pointedly ignoring Angel’s rather dramatic gasp and nonsense answer of Lucifer having broken his heart.

Whilst Lucifer and Angel had been talking you had turned to look over at him, clearly surprised by his presence but it quickly softened into something fonder, something that had Lucifers insides twisting like he was full of snakes. Had that always been the way and he just hadn’t noticed? Lucifer had liked having your attention in him for quite some time, but it was hard to tell if that was because he just liked knowing you were actually focused on what he was doing or because he got a little buzz of possessive satisfaction, knowing that he was the only thing you were focused on. Either way Lucifer didn’t dislike having your eyes on him and he would be quite happy to be the only person who held your attention in such a way.

You welcomed him the same way you always did, tipping your head forward slightly and addressing him as “my King.” Not your majesty, or Sir or Sire but as if he was your own personal monarch and oh boy, wasn’t that just something. He really liked the idea of being yours. Your anything but especially your king, your ruler, just yours in general really. Lucifer could feel his cheeks getting hotter as the realisation sank in, his grip tightening on his staff as he fought of the urge to shiver under your gaze. Oh, this was bad, so very, very bad.

You pulled him out of his little panic by asking if he was there to see Charlie. The simple answer to that innocent question was no. Lucifer was at the hotel with the sole purpose of seeing you and hopefully convincing you to abandon whatever you had planned and help him with his ever-growing rubber duckie horde. A rather lame excuse if he had ever heard one but he was running out of legitimate reasons to get you to spend time with him more often than you usually did. He couldn’t tell you that though, so he eagerly jumped on the excuse, excitedly talking about wanting to “spend some quality daddy daughter time with my little Char Char,” and cringing when he remembered what the little spider had just said to him. It sounded off even to him, his forced cheer falling flat at the end and trailing off into an awkward laugh. You didn’t seem to notice his obvious discomfort though, smiling softly at him as you informed him that “Charlie and Vaggie are out at the moment, said something about meeting with Carmilla to discuss angel defences. They didn’t say when they would be back.” Lucifer felt his heart drop, his rather rubbish excuse at being at the hotel now completely useless thanks to his poor planning.

He was just about to make his excuses and go back to his ducks when you said the best thing, he had heard all day and asked him “do you want to stay? Angel gets a little too into his performances (hey!), and I would like the distraction when he really starts getting descriptive.” Lucifer jumped at the chance, blurting out a loud and eager yes before you had even finished talking. Both you and Angel startled at his outburst and Lucifer cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure as he told you that he “suppose I could help, though its going to cost you little lamb. Those little duckies aren’t going to count themselves.” He hadn’t expected you to agree but you had sticking out your hand for Lucifer to shake as you claimed it a deal. An innocent statement on your part but left Lucifer feeling taken aback by how easily you had agreed, then again you did like his duck collection, so it probably wasn’t that much of a sacrifice on your part.

You don’t stop smiling as you push Angel's feet off your lap, the man groaning and rolling his eyes as he moves to slump in the corner, giving you enough room to move up and leave a spot for Lucifer at the end. He feels incredibly stiff and a little awkward as he sinks into the space, sitting ramrod straight with his hands on his knees. He doesn’t know what to do, has never just casually hung out like this with people that weren’t you and he’s not sure if he’s supposed to be watching Angel Dust’s performance or if he would have been better off just making some sort of excuse and going back home to wallow in his awkward patheticness. You shift next to him, curling your legs up under yourself and leaning it towards him. Your breath is warm against his ear when you speak, sending a shiver down his spine and causing his cheeks to heat again. All you said to him was that you were “glad you decided to stick around,” before turning your attention back to the tv and starting up a conversation with Angel once more but it was enough to have Lucifer relaxing, his strained smile slipping into something softer and more genuine.

Lucifer was still there when Charlie and Vaggie came back, except somewhere along the way he had ended up getting involved with yours and Angel’s conversation. He wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but Lucifer had found himself deep in conversation with Angel about the importance of foreplay and how “Valentino always skips it! It’s like he doesn’t understand how to please someone. It adds to the experience, gets everyone involved really going and trust me it makes the main event that much more pleasurable. That idiot just skips to the end like he’s going to blow within five seconds of getting anything on his dick. Oh! Hey Charlie, err, how much of that did you eh hear?” It wasn’t the ideal thing he wanted his daughter to hear him talking about, but he was surprisingly having fun. Plus, he had gotten to see you blush like a maiden when he had first mentioned about the benefits of having such a flexible tongue so he couldn’t say he regretted being part of it.

Charlie had been rather embarrassed about the subject of choice, even more so when Angle piped up and informed her that he was “learning all sorts of fun things Charlie. Like did you know that most women can’t get off just from getting a good dicking, they need murph!” Lucifer had been quick to put a stop to the conversation, shoving a pillow over the other mans face and shoving him off the couch. Ignoring yours and Angels giggling Lucifer had quickly strode round the couch and towards his daughter, grabbing his abandoned hat and cane as he went. He successfully managed to distract Charlie by asking “how was your day sweetie? I heard you went to see Carmilla Carmine, that must have been fun. Tell me about it.” Charlie had started talking almost instantly and Lucifer waisted no time in gently turning her around and ushering her away from the other two and the porn that was still playing quietly on the tv.

Lucifer was listening to Charlie, hanging on every word and taking in as much information as he could because he wanted to know everything about his daughter but then he had caught movement out the corner of his eye and all his attention had snapped back to you. You were leaving, laughing at something Angel was saying as he draped himself dramatically across the back of the couch. You spotted Lucifer staring almost instantly, offering him a bright smile as you waved, calling out about how “lovely to see you my King,” before disappearing up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Lucifer waved back sadly, his eyes following you until you disappeared from sight. The world felt that little bit dimmer as soon as you were gone Lucifer already missing your bright smile and cheerful disposition. Whilst his attention was on you, he didn’t notice the knowing look Charlie and Vaggie shared, or the way Angel Dust rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto the couch with a huff.

The weeks after that were weird to say the least. Lucifer didn’t know what to do with his newly realised feeling or the guilt he felt about moving on from Lilith when it had barely been a handful of years since she had left. He was a bit of a wreck actually, spending far too much time with his rubber ducks and complaining about how hard feelings were to deal with. It didn’t help matters that Charlie was finding every excuse she could to push you and him together. Anything from getting him to help you with things around the hotel, to sending you to pick up bits from his home that Charlie hadn’t shown an interest in for decades.

You were always a good sport about it when the two of you found yourselves forced together again, laughing and making jokes about it and Lucifer did join in but it was strained as he panicked about how he was supposed to act around you now that he knew that this friendship between the two of you wasn’t enough. It was confusing and complicated, not helped by the fact he had no idea how you felt about him. Lucifer knew you liked him, at least as a friend but that was very different to liking him enough to let him smother you in kisses and worship at your feet.

He had been out of the dating game for so long now, well actually he had never really been in it considering he had fallen for and married the first woman he had come across. He had zero experience with this kind of thing, and he highly doubted offering you an apple was going to do anything apart from make sure you were being fed. As much as it pained him to admit he needed help with this and there was only one person he felt comfortable enough with to even bother asking about this kind of stuff.

Charlie was over the moon when he had finally managed to drag her away from the hotel and gotten out what his problem was. Lucifer could admit to himself that he had been worried about how she would react, fearful that she would think he was betraying Lilith, but Charlie had amazed him once again because she had been “so happy for you dad. I was, well after mum leaving you kinda closed yourself from everyone and I worried that you would you know, end up all alone. But not now! I mean look at you, going outside and talking to people. That’s amazing progress dad.” That had broken his heart a little, knowing that Charlie had been so worried about him ending up alone. Lucifer had done the only thing he could think of in the moment, pulling Charlie into his arms for a hug whilst thanking her for looking out for him and reassuring her that as long as he had her, he would never be alone.

Charlie had laughed it off, brushing away her tears as she insisted that she wasn’t going anywhere. That had gotten Lucifer welling up, happiness welling up inside his chest until it felt like it was going to burst. He had been so worried that he had messed it all up with Charlie, convinced that no matter what he did it was never going to be enough to make up for the distance that had existed between them nearly her entire life but hearing her say that had been, well it was the best thing he had heard since Lilith had told him she was pregnant. It had been a rather emotional moment for the both of them, but it had brought them closer together. The gap between them that much smaller.

The rest of his visit had been spent with Charlie coming up with a plan on how to win you over, convinced that Lucifer stood a real chance at taking possession of your heart. Lucifer wasn’t so sure though. Sure, he could be confident and charming but that came from being king and so much more powerful than everyone else stuck in the infernal blaze. He hadn’t needed to woo someone before. Lilith had just wanted someone to treat her like an equal and respect her whilst Eve had wanted to be free of her chains. It wasn’t like there had been any kind of competition either, Adam such a shitty husband that it had been easy to tempt his wives away from him. Though he had filled the earlier years of his and Lilith’s relationship with romantic gestures that had been very different to what humans now considered to be suitable displays of affection and he doubted you would be won over so easily with a horde of imp minions like Lilith had been.

Charlie had so many grand plans, Lucifer franticly taking notes on things such as simple gestures like holding doors open or offering you an arm to hold as the two of you walked down the street all the way to those grand gestures like breakfast in bed and lavish gifts like diamonds and expensive perfumes. It was a lot and that didn’t even include all the date ideas she was throwing at him, Charlie already planning a romantic picnic on the hotel roof like it was a sure thing you would say yes when he asked you out. Lucifer had to put a stop to her grand schemes then, insisting that maybe it was too soon to be planning dates when he hadn’t even asked you out yet. Reluctantly she had agreed and instead they had circled back round to the little things, the simple gestures he could do to test the water before moving on to bigger and more obvious ones. By the time he left Lucifer had somewhat of a plan on how to win your heart and if there was a slight skip in his step then there was no one around to see it.

Over the next few days Lucifer had started to implement his plan, starting with complimenting your outfit and making sure he opened every single door you went through if he was there. You gave him a few weird looks, but you never told him to stop so he considered it a win. On top of that he started to text you more, just little things about his day that he hoped would make you smile. He even phoned you a couple of times just to hear your voice. Though that had been a bit awkward. Lucifer wasn’t the best at holding conversations on the phone and the first time he had called you there had been a lot of lulls in the conversation, but you had still picked up the second time he called you, seemingly already prepared with conversation points that drew him in and had the conversation flowing easily in minutes.

When you didn’t seem to dislike the attention, Lucifer had moved onto the next part of that plan, eggier and nervous all at once because he was about to get bolder and more obvious about how he felt.

The most important part was to be more tactile with you. A brush of a hand here, a touch on the back there, maybe even brushing a stand of hair out of your face and sitting close enough together that he could press his leg against yours. In theory that was all fine, more than doable really, but the problem was that Lucifer hadn’t really touched anyone single Lilith and especially not in a way that was supposed to suggest something a little more intimate was wanted. Lucifer was touched starved, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop once her got to feel how soft and warm you are under his hands. Sure, he was excited for this part but that didn’t change the fact he was oh so nervous about it to.

What if you hated it? What if the very first time he tried to touch you, you told him get off and get away from you only to never speak to him again. It was a real worry, one that had him tugging at his hat and pulling his face as he shared that worry with Charlie, crying and whining about how “she’s going to hate me Charlie, I know it. As soon as I get a finger on her let alone a hand, she going to tell me to get lost and never want to speak to me again.” Charlie doesn’t say anything until his panicked and overly dramatic rant was over with, letting him get it all out even though some of the things he said were quite ridiculous. Once he was done though she had taken his hands in hers, offering a soft and reassuring smile whilst telling him that it was a “chance you’re going to have to take if you want to be with her dad. I don’t think she will turn you down, especially considering how much she’s been talking about you but there is always the possibility that your feeling might not be returned. Its something everyone has to consider when asking someone out but dad, of your serious about Y/N then it’s a risk you need to be willing to take and if not, well. At least things haven’t gone far enough that you can’t still be friends.” He’s stunned by her incite, her maturity. His little girl had grown up so quickly and was now a bright young woman capable of doing anything she put her mind to. Lucifer truly was proud of her and everything she had accomplished and didn’t hesitate to tell her whilst thanking her for being so open and honest with him.

His conversation with Charlie had left Lucifer with a lot to think about. His pride meant he didn’t handle rejection well and he knew that if you turned his advances down that there would be a period of time where his depression took over and he went back to making more silly little ducks then he knew what to do with. It would hurt to lose you because he really didn’t think he would be able to be around you afterwords without being rude or petty and he really didn’t want to be the reason you got hurt or upset. Maybe it would be better if he squashed down his feelings and just counted himself lucky to have you as a friend because he didn’t have hardly any of them, not real ones he could trust and be honest with. Asmodeus maybe, he could keep a secret and wasn’t all about the fucking like people assumed but it had been a while since Lucifer had spoken to him and well, he had never felt as close to him as he did you. The point was Lucifer didn’t want to lose you and if there was even a small chance that him carrying on with his courtship would result in that then wouldn’t he just be better off staying friends and being sure in the fact that he wouldn’t drive you away.

The whole thing leaves him distracted and confused, Lucifer often getting lost in his thoughts when there were more important things he should be concentrating on. He doesn’t notice the concerned looks you and Charlie give him, or the hushed conversations as you glance nervously at him. He just doesn’t know what to do and he hates it, hates the fact that he feels so out of his depth when he had been so sure where he stood with you before all this romance rubbish had started. In the end though Lucifer doesn’t have to make the decision himself because you decide for him, and he couldn’t be happier.

In an attempt to foster some sort of camaraderie between the hotel’s guests Charlie had implemented a monthly movie night where they each took turns to pick a movie they enjoyed in the hopes that it would get them all talking. Lucifer had accidentally become a part of that, Charlie having inverted him to join months ago in an attempt to spend more time together and get him out the house and Lucifer had just kind of carried on turning up, often sitting between you and his daughter and often needing one of you to explain what was going on because he had lost the plot after the first couple of minutes. Neither of you seemed to mind, even though you all knew that sometimes he did it on purpose, liking to hear your creative descriptions of what you were watching.

This was a regularly scheduled event in his diary, so Lucifer hadn’t really though about not going until he found himself sat in the middle of the sofa, Charlie and Vaggie curled up together on one side and an very obvious space for you on his other side. He sat ramrod straight, hands clutching at his knees as he tried to come up with a plausible reason as to why you shouldn’t be sitting next to him. His mind came up blank though and before he knew it you were dropping down next to him with a sigh. You didn’t speak to him as you got yourself comfortable and Lucifer couldn’t even bring himself to look at you let alone talk to you. It felt weird, so different to how it had been, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was how things were going to be between you now, the same yet not.

Lucifer completely missed the first half of the film, eyes fixed on the screen yet not actually seeing it. He was just waiting for it to end and the chance to get away from this weirdness. He didn’t notice yours and Charlie’s silent yet rather animated conversation behind him, or the others looking at him like he was some new kind of crazy. He didn’t notice your loud sigh as you slumped down next to him, or the unsure looks you kept shooting him that slowly turned into determination. What he did notice though was your arm looping through his, your hand curling around his arm as you shifted closer to him.

Lucifer was surprised his neck didn’t snap from how quickly it snapped to the side, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he looked down at you with shock and bewilderment. You were nibbling at your bottom lip, ears turned down slightly and eyes fixed on Lucifers knee, looking very much like the innocent little lamb he often teased you about being. On the screen something exploded, the flash of light illuminating your eyes as you finally looked at him. Lucifer was captivated, trapped in their glow and oh how much he had missed this, having all your attention on him like he was the centre of your universe. You never took your eyes off him as you moved in close, leaning in so he would hear over the tv when you whispered, “is this ok?” Lucifer had barely managed to get out a yes around the lump of excitement that seemed to have formed in his throat.

The smile you gave him was blinding but no where near as amazing of the felling of you leaning into him, your head resting on his shoulder as you turned your attention back to the tv. Lucifer continued to watch for a while, mesmerised by your ever-present smile and the way your eyes light up with the light from the tv. All his worries and fears about allowing himself this vanished the moment you had touched him because this felt right, like everything just clicked into place. And to think he almost missed out on this. With his own content sigh and smile Lucifer relaxed into it, one hand resting on your bent knee whilst he raised the other to cover your one that was curled abound his bicep. He let his head tip slightly, resting it against the top of yours and just enjoyed the closeness. He didn’t notice Charlie squealing behind him or Angel Dusts eye roll and mumbled “about damned time.” Lucifer was lost in his own little bubble of contentment and nothing short of an angel attack was going to change that.

From then onwards Lucifer was an unstoppable force of wooing. He had no problem invading your personal space after that, nor did he mind getting his hands on you though he had been right, once he was allowed to touch Lucifer found it very hard not to and not to mention how all this innocent skin on skin contact was making him think about all the other less innocent touches he could be bestowing upon you. That had led to a few embarrassing moments where he had needed to excuse himself rather quickly to avoid you noticing what was happening. It also resulted in some rather pleasant dreams that he was always reluctant to wake from, knowing he would be left feeling disappointed and guilty when he finally opened his eyes.

Complements came thick and fast as did the gifts though he had to admit he might have gone a bit overboard with some things. Like filling the entire hotel with white roses that smelt like freshly made popcorn or making every kind of food he could think of appear when you said you were hungry. In his excitement he might have forgotten about plates and Vaggie really hadn’t been too happy about the stack of pancakes that had ended up on top of her head. Though you had found it funny, using your fingers to scoop up some of the ice cream that was dripping down his face before licking it off your fingers. Lucifer had never really understood food porn before but that right here was enough to convert him.

Other things had gone over better. Like a bottle of perfume that smelt like freshly cut grass, a crystal ball that swirled with the colours and patterns of a universe and your own personal rubber duck that Lucifer had spent weeks experimenting with so it would act like an actual duck, though he might have gotten it a little wrong because it had a few dog qualities that he hadn’t quite been able to get out. But hey, you had loved it, so Lucifer considered it a win, even if the thing growled at people every now and again. The first time he had seen you with the silly little thing perched on your head he had nearly combusted with how cute you had looked. He had taken what felt like thousands of photos, following you around the hotel and telling anyone and everyone you passed how adorable you were only to snap more photos as you blushed at his compliments. He would have been happy to continue just showering you with gifts and compliments, happy that he was making you happy, but it wasn’t quite enough. Lucifer wanted more and he wasn’t going to get that with expensive gifts and sugar sweet words.

When he had been with Lilith, they had gone on the grand total of three dates and considering one of them was when she was still in the garden Lucifer didn’t really count it as an actual date because all they had done was sit next to a secluded lake and talk. It had been nice, real nice actually and from that one little date their relationship had blossomed and grown into something Lucifer would cherish for all eternity. It’s not exactly up to par with modern standards though and Lucifer really didn’t want to rehash his old material. It wouldn’t be fare to Lilith and it sure as hell wouldn’t be fare to you. You weren’t a replacement for his ex-wife and Lucifer really didn’t want you to ever think that was what this thing between the two of you was. So, he needed new material, something that was uniquely suited to you and guaranteed that you would say yes when Lucifer asked you to be his.

The other rings were out considering you were a mortal sinner and couldn’t leave the pride ring. A shame really because they really did have some amazing restaurants and bars down in gluttony that he thought you might have enjoyed. It would have been nice to take you to Lu Lu Land, Lucifer able to show off his most successful creation, well second most successful next to Charlie. But just like gluttony that was out of the question. That left him with the rather nauseating thought of doing something in Pentagram city and that was a solid pass on his part because the city was a huge disgusting dumpster fire of nope full of psychopathic freaks that Lucifer would rather not have to deal with when he was trying to be all romantic and suave.

It left him with a rather stressful dilemma, Lucifer locking himself away in his workshop as he tried and failed to come up with anything he thought was worthy of your time. It had him pulling at his hair and throwing his ducks around in frustration. This shouldn’t be this hard, mortals did it all the time and yet he couldn’t come up with anything better than afternoon tea in Cannibal Town because despite the fact it was full of flesh hungry sinners it was still the nicest part of this trashy city, he just didn’t think you would be a fan of being given finger sandwiches made from actual fingers. Groaning he had slumped forward, banging his head on his desk and mumbling about how he was “stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course she wouldn’t want to eat people, that’s gross and weird. Come on Luci, think, think, think.” With a headache forming and the sense of pathetic failure growing, Lucifer was saved in the form of a text from Charlie, asking for his help at the hotel. It was like a switch being flipped, the conversation he had with his daughter all those weeks ago coming back to him in full clarity. It was perfect, a plan already starting to form in his mind, and it was with a maniacal laugh that Lucifer snatched up his phone and called Charlie, roping her into his plans.

It was a lot easier from then on, Lucifer knowing exactly what he wanted to make it perfect for you. Charlie was more than happy to help, even getting the other residents of the hotel to keep you busy so you wouldn’t notice what was going on. You weren’t stupid though and Lucifer knew that you had suspicions, especially when everyone was being a bit too obvious about keeping you away from him whenever you caught a glimpse of him around the hotel. It was worth it though, Lucifer proud of what he had managed to accomplish. All that was left now was to get you up there and woo the socks off you.

Everyone played their part, pretending that Angel Dusts little piggy had run off and organising a search party to find it before that no-good Radio demon eat it. You were given the upper floors to search, including the roof and all Lucifer needed to do was wait patiently for you to find him and his surprise. Patiently lasted all of five minutes though and as the seconds ticked by he began nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet before giving in and pacing around the small space, muttering to himself the whole time about how it was taking you “so long. It’s just three floors you should be done by now. Maybe he should go and find you, speed things up a little. No, no, no. The whole point is you’re supposed to be up here to surprise her Luci. What if you go down and she gets here before you find her and ruins the whole thing. Fuuuck. What to do. What to do.” Just as he’s about to start pulling his hair out Lucifer hears it, the loud groan of the roof access stairs being pulled down. He quickly scrambles to get in position, fixing his hair and grabbing up the bouquet of red and white roses that fallen to the floor as his distress grew. He had taken off his jacket and hat, stashing them away along with his cain to go for a more casual look, a wide smirk plastered across his face as he tried not to bounce excitedly.

He heard you before he saw you, your mumbled complaints carrying up as you flung open the access hatch. You weren’t looking his way when you climbed out onto the roof, still muttering under your breath as you brushed dust and dirt off your clothes. Lucifer remained silent though, holding his breath as he waited for you to turn around and look his way. When you finally turned to him you gasped, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled back slightly. Lucifer laughed nervously, thrusting out the bouquet of flowers toward you and awkwardly greeting you with a “hey you.” You regained your composure quickly, smiling softly as you made your way over to him and tacking the flowers with a quick thank you. Lucifer stood there for a long few moments, his brain having come to a sudden hault as he watched you lift the bouquet up to smell the flowers. They weren’t real roses; you didn’t get flowers like that down here, but Lucifer had done his best to recreate them though he couldn’t really remember how they smelled so he had made the white one's smell like freshly made popcorn and the red ones like candy floss. You didn’t seem to mind, humming appreciatively as you stared back at him.

You had pulled Lucifer out of his little daze by leaning to the side to look at the scene behind him, asking if “that’s what you’ve been up to all day?” Eager to show you what he had done Lucifer nodded, enthusiastically taking your hand and pulling you along with him. There was a large blanket on the floor, practically surround by a mountain of cushions and other blankets. There were more flowers, big vases of the roses with candy apples and fern leaves dotted throughout, with candelabras strategically places around the edges of the blanket to give the area a warm glow. He had champagne on ice, two glasses waiting nearby and several platters of food that could be easily picked up with their fingers.

You gently placed the flowers you had been holding on the floor before sinking down onto the cushions, Lucifer following close behind and sitting close enough to you that your legs touched. Glasses of champagne were poured, food offered and the two of you slipped into easy conversation. It was surprisingly intimate, the sounds of the city nothing but a dull murmur in the background. From their advantage point they could see almost all of pentagram city, all the way from Imp City to Cannibal Town. Though all of Hell was his to rule this was Lucifers domaine and though it was quite literally on fire in some places he still wanted to show off how much power he had though knowing he was the King of Hell had never seemed to mean all that much to you.

As the evening went on and the champagne slowly disappeared the two of you got closer until Lucifer was leaning back against the cushions with you tucked up against his side, an arm draped over your shoulder as the two of you sat in silence and looked out across the city. It was comfortable, Lucifer felt comfortable, like himself for once but he knew he had to break the peaceful little bubble the two of you were in because he had a rather important question he needed to ask and if he didn’t ask it now, well, he wasn’t sure if he ever would.

Lucifer put his mostly empty glass down before nervously clearing his through. That caught your attention and had you turning to look at him before he was ready. Whatever you saw on his face had you frowning, placing down your own glass so you could turn more fully to look at him. Lucifer could tell you were about to say something, but he couldn’t afford to lose his nerve, so he held up a hand to stop you, telling you that he “need to err ask you something?” So, what if it came out more like a question, at least he had managed to get it out. Your eyes widened slightly, ears twitching up and mouth forming an ‘o’. With a reassuring smile you took his hand in yours, nodding encouragingly and waiting for him to continue.

Swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat, Lucifer glanced off to the side, tugging at the suddenly tight collar of his shirt. He felt your hold on his hand tightening, his eyes darting back to you and that look of reassurance and excitement that gleamed in your eyes. It was enough to calm his nerves and he placed his other hand over the tops of yours, taking a deep breath before asking that one little question that was sure to change his life regardless of the answer you gave. “Would you, like to date, me?”

Your smile widened, stretching at your cheeks and looking almost painful. Freeing one of your hands from his you placed it on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently across it. Your voice is so soft but full of certainty and something Lucifer didn’t want to say was love, not yet anyway. It was a simple “yes Lucifer,” but it had his heart soaring like he was flying high above the city. Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh, flinging himself forward and wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He was so happy, couldn’t quite believe that you had said yes but still unapologetically happy that you had. You laughed with him, wiggling in his hold until you got your arms free, looping them around his neck. Lucifers grip tightened around your waist, pulling you in just that little bit closer. It meant that he had to tip his head back slightly to look you in the eyes but that wasn’t a hardship, especially not when you leant down, eyes darting to his lips then back up to his eyes. It was a silent question, one Lucifer answered by tipping his head back more, his eye closing and holding his breath as he waited for you to bridge the gap.

Your lips were soft against his, just a gentle brush against his as if you were testing it out. Lucifer dug his fingers into the fabric of your dress, a content sigh passing from his lips to yours. That seemed to be the only permission you need because in the next second your lips were firmer, slow and confident as you traded one kiss after another. It was everything Lucifer had hoped it would be, as sweet as candy apples and just as addictive.

So lost in one another neither of you noticed that the access hatch was slightly open, or the two sets of eyes looking out from the darkness. You didn’t hear the muffled cheers or the even more muffled complaint about how “disgustingly lovey dovey those weirdos are going to be now? I guarantee ya, every five seconds they’re gonna be making cow eyes at each other and professing their love. I already feel sick just thinkin’ about…Ow! Watch the goods toots.” You didn’t see the rather annoyed radio demon down below twiddling his mic in his hands or Charlie sticking her head out of a window and gesturing upwards franticly. You didn’t hear him huff and roll his eyes or him waving his mic around until colourful explosions of light filled the sky behind you. The two of you were completely oblivious to the world around you, lost in the moment.

Neither of you had thought this was how things would end up the first time you had met and though you were both aware that things wouldn’t be as easy as they seemed right now you were willing to take the risk. Sure, there would be ups and downs, things that would need addressing like Lilith and the wedding ring Lucifer still wore and the fact that you were a sinner, bound to the pride ring. There was the hotel and heaven to consider, not to mention all the threats from within hell. Those were all things to worry about latter though because for now, with you in his arms and his relationship with Charlie so much better than it had been Lucifer was happy and nothing could take that away from him.

At least for now.

@lxkeee

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel x fem reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x fem!reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x fem!reader #lucifer x fem!reader #lucifer x female reader #lucifer x reader #reader insert #fem!reader

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writtenbymoonflower · 28 days

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Hiya! Hope your having a wonderful day/night!

Could you write Remus x reader where reader has just had a bad dream. They don’t wake up screaming or crying or anything but just sort of… off. They kinda just lay there as opposed to getting up like they normally do. Remus comforts them.

(I literally just had a dream where I was kidnapped and presumably trafficked. No idea where my brain got that from but I had the heeby jeebies when I woke up.)

If not, no worries!

Thank you either way! <3

here you go, hunny! thanks for requesting remus lupin x gn!reader

465 words (it's a shortie)

Your eyes flew open, still sticky with sleep as you sucked in a harsh breath. You laid there frozen with fear and slick with cold, clammy sweat, shaking all over. Your muscles were tensed painfully as you tried desperately to calm down. You were pretty sure your nails were biting little half-moons into your palms as you looked around the room, hopelessly analyzing your surroundings. The dull glow of the night lamp, the damp pillow under your arm, the soft ticking of the clock, the-

“Hey, hey. Are you alright?” Remus tented his book on the nightstand, using his now free hand to stroke your frizzy hair from your face.

“Y-yeah.” You stumbled. “Yeah I’m fine. Just a nightmare. I’m okay though.” He gave you an awfully kind no-nonsense look.

“You’re shaking quite badly, dovey.” He said knowingly. You shivered unpleasantly again, small tremors of anxiety working their way out of your system. He cooed pitifully. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re really wound up. Was is that scary?”

“I’m okay.” You assured, even though he clearly did not believe a word coming out of your mouth. He ignored you, opting to reach a long arm to his nightstand for a glass of water.

“Here, lovely. Drink this. It will help.” He handed the glass to you, cool and sweating with condensation. You took a few slow sips before handing it back.

“Thank you.” You said, bashful. He didn’t respond, just pulled you onto his chest. You nestled into his soft sweater, heart rate finally slowing to a safe pace. He hummed softly, kissing the top of your head.

“Do you want to talk about it? The dream, I mean.” His hand left a pleasant warmth on your cold bare arm.

“No.” You shivered, scooting impossibly closer. “It was just bad. I don’t-” You shook your head snd squeezed your eyes shut, trying to put a lid on the nervousness rising in your chest.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to.” He held you as tight as his gentle nature would allow as he gently rocked you. You would protest his efforts if they weren’t helping so much. He kept you in silence for a few moments before tilting your face up for a kiss. “Do you want me to read to you?” He said, close to your face, thumb sweeping gently over your jaw.

You didn’t answer his question. “You don’t have to coddle me.” You said.

He would roll his eyes if we wasn’t horribly endeared by you. “It’s my job to look after you, dove. It’s easier on both of us if you just let me.” He said, reaching for his book and opening it to his saved page. You relented and snuggled closer to his chest as his gentle voice filled the space between you.

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thrumbolt · 11 months

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Top 5 most annoying Tamlin scene misinterpretations

1. ''There is no such thing as a high lady'' I hate this one, because it is always taken as some sort of proof that Tamlin is a raging misogynist who doesn't want an equal woman by his side or some similar type of nonsense. I don't know where this is coming from. Tamlin never wanted to be a high lord. He would probably welcome for someone to take over most of the work so he could just keep running through the woods. He also has absolutely no issues with taking advice from women in power (Ianthe? Hello??). His first reaction to the high lady question is literally this:

“Is everyone just going to call me ‘Tamlin’s wife’? Do I get a … title?” He lifted his head long enough to look at me. “Do you want a title?”

And let's not forget that Feyre's first reply is ''No, I don’t know if I can handle them calling me High Lady”. To which he then answers that she doesn't have to worry about that, since ''there is no such thing as a high lady'' because the magic choses the title and it keeps chosing males. Also this whole scene happens while he eats her out. Not that it's relevant or anything, just saying...

2. ''Tamlin killed Rhys' family'' No. Tamlin's dad killed Rhys' family. I have no idea how Tamlin doing it is ever the takeaway from that whole story. Let's just quote the actual scene:

“Tamlin’s father, brothers, and Tamlin himself set out into the Illyrian wilderness, having heard from Tamlin—from me—where my mother and sister would be, that I had plans to see them. I was supposed to be there. I wasn’t. And they slaughtered my mother and sister anyway.”

Yeah okay, Tamlin gave the information (supposedly) and was there (supposedly) sure, but it's highly unlikely that he was so willingly. Let's not forget that it's established that Tamlin was afraid of his father, that Tamlin's father is worse than Beron (who, I might remind you, tortures his sons) and that Tamlin was friends with Rhys at the time - which neither family approved of. Even Rhys doesn't actually believe Tamlin did anything besides being spineless:

''I didn’t care that Tamlin had been there, had allowed them to kill my mother and sister, that he’d come to kill me because he didn’t want to risk standing against them.''

In the end we don't know the details. Tamlin could've been tortured and tied up or whatever. Making him watch could've been a cruel form of punishment for being friends with Rhys. We don't really know until SJM graces us with Tamlin's side of the story.

3. ''It's really Tamlin's own fault that the spring court fell'' Alternatively also phrased as: 'Feyre just opened everyone's eyes to Tamlin's incompetence' and....honestly? This low key makes me question the reading comprehension of people.

Yes, Tamlin made a deal with Hybern, which was extremely risky, but the war was coming regardless (as we learn from Rhys in the first half of ACOMAF) and the spring court would be the main target because of its location next to the wall. Inviting Hybern into his lands in a trade is actually a pretty smart way to avoid a lot of death on Tamlin's part - plus he needed help to rescue Feyre and get her out of the deal she had with Rhysand (people forget that Tamlin didn't know Feyre didn't actually need rescuing from the guy that was abusing her in front of him in ACOTAR).

So yeah anyway, Feyre did several things to make the spring court fall: 1. She manipulated the solstice ceremony to make herself seem cauldron-blessed in the eyes of the people, 2. She made a sentry accuse Ianthe (who WAS doing sneaky shit) which essentially did nothing except putting Tamlin on the spot in front of Hybern, so he was kind of forced to throw the sentry under the bus. Good job Feyre, you got a poor sod whipped! But it also built resentment within the soldiers, which was her plan all along and 3. before leaving, she did this (let's just quote the whole thing):

''I had a people who had lost faith in their High Priestess. I had sentries who were beginning to rebel against their High Lord. And as a result of those things, I had Hybern royals doubting the strength of their allies here. I’d primed this court to fall. Not from outside forces—but its own internal warring. And I had to be clear of it before it happened. Before the last sliver of my plan fell into place. The party would return without me. And to maintain that illusion of strength, Tamlin and Ianthe would lie about it—where I’d gone. And perhaps a day or two after that, one of these sentries would reveal the news, a carefully sprung trap that I’d coiled into his mind like one of my snares. I’d fled for my life—after being nearly killed by the Hybern prince and princess. I’d planted images in his head of my brutalized body, the markings consistent with what Dagdan and Brannagh had already revealed to be their style. He’d describe them in detail—describe how he helped me get away before it was too late. How I ran for my life when Tamlin and Ianthe refused to intervene, to risk their alliance with Hybern. And when the sentry revealed the truth, no longer able to stomach keeping quiet when he saw how my sorry fate was concealed by Tamlin and Ianthe, just as Tamlin had sided with Ianthe the day he’d flogged that sentry …When he described what Hybern had done to me, their Cursebreaker, their newly anointed Cauldron-blessed, before I’d fled for my life … There would be no further alliance. For there would be no sentry or denizen of this court who would stand with Tamlin or Ianthe after this. After me.''

So, the sentries left Tamlin because of a lie. A fake story. Without sentries, Hybern decided to take over rather than just be guests and had a prime spot to attack the summer court in turn. Which is also why Tarquin is extremely pissed at Feyre - not Tamlin. So no, Tamlin wasn't a bad high lord. His only real mistake was ever trusting Feyre.

Sure, some argue that Feyre thought Tamlin genuinely sided with Hybern and might be a threat to the rest of Prythian, so taking him down would make sense for her even outside of petty revenge. But there's just one problem with that: Feyre is a mind reader. She could have just.....checked. lol

4. ''Tamlin didn't do anything Under the Mountain'' This one really gets my goat because it's not really true? Things Tamlin did to help Feyre: 1. He sent her away to the human realm. (People forget this, but he basically doomed his court to protect her ass - it's not his fault she came back!) 2. He made Lucien check up on her. (Yes Lucien was Feyre's friend but he still acted under Tamlin's orders!) 3. He ignored Feyre as to not rile Amarantha up even more (Come on, have you seen Amarantha? It totally makes sense) 4. He tries to get to Feyre, begging Amarantha to stop even as he is tied up, bleeding out from a stab wound to his chest that he can't heal because he has no powers - like what do you want him to do??? 4. He literally kills Amarantha the second he is able to

Also personal conspiracy detour: That music that Rhysand supposedly sent to Feyre was SO originally supposed to be Tamlin, you can't convince me otherwise. I will never not believe that this wasn't just a lazily done quick change when SJM rewrote book 1 and 2 to account for the boyfriend switcheroo. Attributing the music to Rhys makes absolutely zero sense. He's not a musical boy at all, come on! Music themes never come up with him again either! Meanwhile Tamlin played for Feyre before, is generally a musical guy COME ON! /conspiracy detour over

5. ''It's Tamlin's fault that Nesta and Elaine got turned to fae'' No. No it's not. He knew nothing about this. Ianthe did this on her own accord because Feyre told her where her sister's lived. Tamlin actually attacks (!) the King of Hybern over it (to no avail, but still).

Some people blame Tamlin for keeping Ianthe around afterwards, despite of what she did. Those people I want to refer to point number 3 in this list. Ianthe was working with Hybern. Tamlin tried to be buddies with Hybern for reasons. No, he can't just throw out Ianthe.

#thanks for coming to my tedtalk #tamlin #acotar #idk man i get that people hate him but literally everything he does gets interpreted in the most unfavorable way ever #or simply misquoted #and it's annoying ok #feel free to add to it or correct me #SORRY THIS GOT LONG I WENT OFF A LITTLE #pro tamlin #i guess

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farfaras · 1 year

Text

First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1. (You’re here)

Part 2.

If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.

Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.

No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.

And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.

Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.

Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.

Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.

“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.

“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.

Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.

“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”

“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.

“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.

Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)

Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”

“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.

“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?

“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.

“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.

“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”

Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”

The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?

“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”

Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.

“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?

“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.

“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.

“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.

“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.

“Thanks, bud.”

After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.

Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?

First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

At least for a while.

What could go wrong?

Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

Step 2. Make a game plan.

They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.

Step 3. Hope it’s believable.

He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?

He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.

“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.

He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.

Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.

They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.

“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.

“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”

“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.

“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.

“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.

“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”

Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.

“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”

“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?

“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.

“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”

“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?

“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?

“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.

“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.

Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.

Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”

“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.

“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.

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dilatorywriting · 4 months

Text

Apart

Vil Schoenheit x OC Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Never in a hundred years would anyone have expected the Vil Schoenheit to develop seperation anxiety.

[OC Archive]

Vil wasn’t picking up his phone. Which was saying something, because normally the blonde was hemming and hawing over getting Saya to answer in any reasonable fashion. It wasn’t her fault she was terrible with texts, let alone the strange, encrypted, messaging software he’d insisted they use. But Vil was normally so focused—so intent. She’d never had to wait more than a few minutes before for him to respond to even her silliest of questions.

She listened through the tinny speakers as the phone rang, and rang, and rang.

It went to voicemail again with a near petulant chirp and Saya huffed irritably through her nose.

Vil was away filming. He hadn’t wanted to be. He’d told her time and time again that he’d specifically set aside his acting career to focus on his education, and that he had no intentions of stepping into any new roles when his duties to Pomefiore and Night Raven already ate up so much of his precious free time. But this was some reshoot or other for a project that had long since shifted into post-production. And he was contractually obligated to pack his bags and head out on the earliest flight to the Shaftlands.

“Call me every night,” he’d said, as he was fretfully checking and rechecking his suitcase. Shifting through outfits like a blackjack dealer spitting cards around a table. “And every morning.”

“And every afternoon?” she’d drawled, rolling over to bury back into his too-expensive plum duvet. The sun wasn’t even up yet. The birds hadn’t even started to sing yet. It was too early to be awake at all, let alone trying to juggle kindness and reciprocal doting.

“I’m serious,” he’d snapped. “You already get into enough trouble while I’m here to keep a watch over you. And now I’m going to be on another continent.”

And he’d seemed… frazzled, almost. There were smears of purple beneath his eyes that didn’t look intentional or artful, and there was a tightness to his sculpted brows that spoke of a burgeoning headache.

“You said It’s only for two weeks,” Saya mumbled, sitting back up to give him and his fretting her proper attention. “It’ll be fine. It can be, like, a vacation,” she tried. “Away from all my nonsense. I’m sure by the end of it you’ll be dreading coming back.”

Her cheek stretched with sharp, stinging pain and she whined into Vil’s palm as he pinched the skin there.

“Don’t say that,” he demanded, bitter and… something she couldn’t quite place. Saya blinked back, owlish and surprised. Vil never really liked when she joked about him not caring, or about her being a burden, and blablabla. It was all in good fun, well, mostly, but he always put a hard stop to it nonetheless. So she hadn’t expected him to sit back and laugh at her little joke, but he’d never really looked quite so…

“…I’ll miss you,” she said around his fingers, instead of pushing further. Hoping that might be less of a conversational landmine. But instead of helping, that something darkening his eyes just got worse.

“Every morning and every night,” he said again after a moment, ducking forward to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “So keep your phone charged.”

Another chirp. Another ‘you have reached the voicemail of—’

Saya frowned and set her phone aside.

He had been a bit… odd, maybe. The last few times they’d spoken. Or, well, to be fair, he hadn’t really been himself the entire time he’d been away. Like there was an undercurrent of tension to him winding tighter and tighter, just waiting to snap. Vil had always had a tendency to work himself too hard, but this… didn’t really seem like that. There was almost a mania to it. Not quite hysterical, but something that reminded her a bit too much of trickling tar and the foul, creeping sludge of blot for comfort.

Her phone vibrated and Saya pounced for it before the screen even had a chance to light up.

“Oh thank god, you picked up. Do you know where he is?”

Saya blinked, startled, and then hazarded a quick glance at the caller ID. When his PR Team's icon blinked back at her, she swallowed a pissy curse.

“Amelia,” she frowned, fighting the urge to twist her fingers. “What do you mean? Know where who is?”

“You know who!” the woman snapped, sounding halfway to a meltdown. “Vil stormed off set hours ago and no one’s been able to find him.”

Saya’s stomach dropped and she felt herself moving towards the door before she’d even realized she’d stood.

“What do you mean?” she frowned, scraggling blindly along the coat hangers for a jacket. “What do you mean ‘ran off?’” He wouldn’t. Vil would never. He was a consummate professional—

“He hasn’t been… feeling well,” Amelia said into the speaker, sounding a bit choked. “And some of the crew was struggling with his… his mood.”

“Just call him a bitch and be done with it,” Saya snipped, yanking her arms through the sleeves and shoving her keys into her pocket. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“He can always be a bit difficult to work with—demanding, heavy-handed. We all know that. But never cruel. But this time it was like… He was just... ” the woman trailed off, still stiff. Still clearly panicked. “So things weren’t going well. I—We—He just—"

“Look,” Saya interrupted, stumbling out the door and hearing the creaking old hinges slam behind her. It was pouring. A torrential downpour that had turned the whole of the paths outside Ramshackle into a hazardous, muddy obstacle course. “You can share your poor, boohoo backstories later. Do you have any idea where he could have—"

She crashed headfirst into another rushing figure with a whoosh that knocked the air right out of her chest. Saya leaned forward with a gasping wheeze, trying to get her feet back under her and the air back into her lungs, and gaped in shock at the very familiar chest that she’d just barreled into at Mach speed. A chest that was supposed to be a hundred miles away on a movie set and not—not—

The voice in her phone was faint, droning buzz like the flighty chitter of mosquitos. She shoved it into her pocket until the panicked white noise was muffled through a layer of fabric.

There were too many questions. Too many hard questions.

So Saya just stiffened her lip and looped an arm through Vil’s.

“Come on,” she sighed, feeling a terrible, nervous chill trickling through her veins like ice water. “Your makeup is dripping everywhere. Let’s get you inside.”

Vil hated Ramshackle—made it a point to say so every time he laid eyes upon the fetid, lopsided, wreck of a building. But this time he just let himself be herded through the main entrance without a word, and that fretful, freezing something in her limbs got worse. Saya corralled him carefully upstairs to her small room. Ro was supposed to be away at Diasomnia for the evening, but the little bit of extra privacy wouldn’t do any harm.

Saya’s heart was tripping unpleasantly in her chest and she decided she had a plan.

First, she’d sit him down on her bed all comfy like. She’d wipe away his smeared mascara and dot at the red, angry lines on his cheeks. Then, she’d bundle him up in her comforter and maybe make some cocoa. And then—then… Well, she didn’t know what then. But it was a start.

Vil, naturally, was never one to make anyone’s lives easier ever. Even hers. So when she moved to start pushing him towards her mattress, he lurched around—quick as a snake—and dragged her into his arms so tight that her sides were aching with it. Saya squeaked and fought the urge to immediately start wriggling like a fish in a net. Because something wasn’t… This really wasn’t…

“Vil…?” she tried, and he pressed forward until his nose was digging into her throat so hard there was sure to be a fresh set of red marks there tomorrow. She tried to get her arms up, to hug him back, but it was too tight. And he wasn’t moving. So Saya sighed and settled on a soft, “I missed you.”

Vil locked up like a broken doll and she froze, feeling like she’d audibly misstepped somehow.

“Uhm…” she mumbled, unsure how to backtrack. “Are you alright? Amelia called. She said everyone was worried that—”

“They’re not worried,” he sneered, so sharp and so venomous that it genuinely startled her. “I did what I had to do and I left. I doubt they could care less.”

Saya frowned, hesitant. “Something’s bothering you.”

A scoff. “Everything bothers me.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t fix everything,” she pressed back. “Not all at once, anyways. Just—one thing at a time maybe? So I can help with that first?”

“…I always knew,” Vil said against her shoulder after a moment, “that they were miserable, lying vermin. That’s all any of this really is. What can I do for them, how can they use me best. And it never bothered me before. Or maybe it did, but I just never knew any better.”

“What are you talking about?” Saya frowned, doing her best to shuffle up against him in as close of an approximation to a reassuring pat as she could manage with her arms pinned to her side.

“It’s hard,” Vil continued, sounding bitter. “To learn that you can be loved as a person, and then having to go back to being a commodity. To being nothing but your use. So don’t ever,” he seethed, digging his painted nails into her hips, “say that leaving you is a vacation, or a treat, or enjoyable ever again when you’re the only one who ever even lets me be a person to begin with.”

“…okay,” Saya choked. Because that sounded like a lot. A lot, a lot. But—but this was Vil. Who she really did love so, so much. Cracks and all.

So she did what she did best and walled off the strange something that had started to fester in her gut. Locked it away and decided promptly that it had never existed at all.

“But maybe next time at least tell someone where you’re going,” she protested weakly, forcing a bit of levity into her tone. “Because your PA was calling me in a panic. I was literally about to go down to the road and hitchhike to the Shaftlands.”

“Do not ever get into a car with a stranger who tries to pick you up on the curbside,” he snipped at her, grip loosening just enough that he could reach up to tug, reprimanding, at a lock of her hair instead. “And this is why I was so nervous about leaving you alone. You’re just as danger prone as your brother.”

“Oh, please. I am not.”

“Being willing to turn and bite the thing chasing you like a feral racoon doesn’t mean you aren’t being chased,” Vil snorted, a bit of his more familiar, playful snark curling over the words to replace that horrible, cloying something from before. He ran his fingers through her hair and scratched lightly at her scalp. “I should track your phone at this rate.”

Saya scoffed. “I’m surprised you don’t already.”

Vil hummed, sounding pensive. And perhaps a touch of good humor. Like he’d caught himself thinking on an inside joke.

“Nevertheless,” he sighed, slowly unwinding himself from around her like a hulking, venomous snake unspooling its coils. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I just missed you terribly. And wanted to come home as soon as possible.”

Oof. One hit KO.

Saya huffed, cheeks going pink all the way up to her ears.

“Yeah, well, I missed you more and you didn’t see me forgetting your stupid ‘keep your phone charged at all times’ rule, did I?”

Vil chuckled and leaned forward to press a soft, apologetic kiss along the underside of her jaw.

“I have a lot to repent for, it would seem,” he hummed.

“Damn straight.”

A pause, as she looked over him with a touch of that same creeping, prickling worry.

“But… only after you’re feeling a bit better,” she amended, eyes darting off to the corner of the room with an embarrassed little huff. “It’s not fair,” she said after a moment. “That you feel like—” like there was no one in the world who wanted him for him. That he was good for nothing but his face, or his smile, or pretty, little lies. “—like they don’t care about you.”

“You care,” Vil sighed, burrowing back into her collarbone. “That’s all that really matters, hmm?”

“It shouldn’t be,” Saya harumphed. “Next time this happens I’ll follow you around myself and like, I don’t know, spray them with a water bottle full of cat piss. Or something.”

Vil laughed, low and deep.

“Of course. What a simple solution,” he hummed against her throat. “To just never let you leave my side to begin with.”

And maybe the steady, unquestionable undercurrent to that proclamation should have been a bit concerning. Like the sweetness of chocolate undermined by something darker and stickier that would leave one’s mouth dry and a peculiar sense of wrongness coating their tongue. But honestly, that sounded all well and good to her. Never leave his side to begin with. Saya sighed and let Vil pull her back towards her mattress. Because honestly, if it was him being the clingy one, then at least she’d never have to admit to it on her own.

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x OC #Vil Schoenheit x OC #Vil x OC #vil schoenheit #My Writing

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lostgirlmuseum · 1 year

Text

Maced

Summary: You think someone’s following you and you mace them. Turns out it’s just Bucky.

A/N: this is my first ever fic im posting, so please be gentle with me, I know I have a lot of growing to do. This is just for fun!

Words: About 1k

Bucky x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Stay back!” You screamed, spinning lightning fast and unleashing the spray into the perpetrators eyes.

“DAMN IT!” The man screamed, bringing the heels of his gloved hands to his eyes. “God! Fucking hell–” he roared, falling to his knees.

That’s when you finally realized who this man was.

“Bucky!”

“Fuck! What the fuck!?” He ignored you, groaning as he rested his forehead on the concrete ground.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you! Why were you following me?” You waved your hands around apologetically, but the damage had already been done.

“I wasn’t following you! GAH– what kind of fucking mace is that? Christ, oh my, fuck!”

“It’s homemade!” You cried, unsure of what to do. You had never seen Bucky so distraught and helpless before. It was an odd sight to see such a large man all but rolling on the floor in pain.

His nonsensical curses and mumblings continued, his hands still clawing at his eyes.

“Cmon Bucky, I live right around here, let me get you inside and then I can help you.” You pleaded, about to pat his shoulder but deciding against it. He was writhing in pain and you felt guilty enough, worried that even touching him would make it worse.

He didn’t give an intelligible response, but he did make the effort to start standing up, albeit slowly.

You asked him if you could guide him, to which he just grunted, and you took that as a yes. Holding onto his side, the two of you walked thirty feet to your apartment building. Luckily, the elevator was already on the ground floor, so you were able to go right up to your floor.

After helping him flush out his eyes at the sink, you led him to lay down on your couch. You took a seat in the chair across from him, worriedly watching for any signs of renewed irritation.

“Listen, I’ve been pepper sprayed before, but never like that. What the hell was in that?”

“It’s best if I don’t tell you.” You insisted sympathetically.

He just groaned. You quickly tried to hide your smile.

“Listen Bucky, I really am sorry. I was walking home and I noticed someone was following me for a long time, but it was too dark to make out that it was you. I just panicked.”

“I was on my way to my apartment.”

“I thought you lived with the Avengers?”

“I did, but I decided recently that it would do me some good to have a little bit of normalcy, like having my own apartment, away from Stark tech and the chaos.”

“Oh.” It was silent for a moment. “Which apartments?” You asked casually.

“The Summits on Plum Street.”

“I guess that’s why you followed me for so long.” He looked up at you in question. “That’s where we are right now.”

“I didn’t realize you lived here.”

“I can’t believe I maced my new neighbor.” You laughed. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s fine, at least you were trying to protect yourself.”

There came a lull in the conversation, to which you decided to check on his eyes again. You walked over to where he layed, and asked him to “let me see.”

He looked at you with his gorgeous blue—although, red rimmed—eyes. Like an ocean in hell. Or. Something.

“They’re looking a little better,” you politely nodded, standing straight up after realizing you were getting a bit too close.

“Are you lying?”

You didn’t answer. You thoughtfully tapped your chin.

“I think I may have saline drops in a cabinet somewhere…”

You wandered off to a cabinet, and came back with a small bottle.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” You asked sweetly.

“I think I can do my own eye drops,” he responded, a hint of judgment lacing his tone at you even suggesting that.

You threw your hands up, signaling you’d back off, and handed him the drops. You sat back in your chair and stared off out the window.

A minute passed before he begrudgingly spoke up. “Can you help me? Please,” he quickly added.

You obliged without a single word, already heading to wash your hands, but he still felt the need to explain.

“It’s harder than I expected. Each time I see a drop coming, I close my eyes. I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” you nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the couch. You leaned over him, and looked at his poor eyes again.

“Tilt your head back, and look up.” You instructed.

He did as you asked.

“Do you want me to hold your eyelid, or do you?” You asked, realizing you should probably give him a choice to make him more comfortable.

“You can do it.”

“Okay.”

You gently pulled down below his right eye, the rest of your fingers resting on the side of his face.

“It’ll be quick,” you soothed, before doing a quick countdown and squeezing the bottle.

“Good, now the other one. Keep looking up for me.” You quickly switched hands and did the same to the other side.

“Now close your eyes and hold right here, just for like a minute.” You explained, lightly pinching the corner of his eyes. He copied your movement.

“That wasn’t so bad.” You stayed seated next to him, silently observing the details of his face. You’d never been this close to him for long enough to admire without him seeing you. The slight wrinkle between his eyebrows made you smile, as did the slight pink hue of his cheeks. Have those always been that color?

“Feel better?” You said once he peeked open his eyes.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Good.”

AN: I hope the ending isn’t too abrupt, I just felt like writing a short little thing. Thank you so much for reading, it means a lot to me. If you’re comfortable with it, I’d love a like or reblog or comment, but no pressure. ❤️

#Bucky x reader #Bucky fic #Bucky fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky fanfic #Bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader

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sweet-creature101 · 2 years

Text

Kiwi

Summary: Harry recently started his solo carrier and Sarah recommmeds y/n as his lead guitarist. Harry finds himself intimidated by y/n and y/n could not care less.

famous!harry ; an enemies to lovers trope

part two

warnings: mention of alcohol. Swearing. Suggestive language and sexual tension.

“Come on Harry trust me on this. It won’t go downhill. She’s really good.” Sarah pleaded her case for the tenth time since the past one hour. Harry was certain she would talk his ear off.

“What was her name again?” Mitch asked Sarah.

“Y/n.”

“Sarah, I don’t know about this. I’ve known you all since a long time and it’s easy to work with you.” Harry said, slightly skeptical about a new addition to his team.

Harry knew who you were, a very successful songwriter and one hell of a guitar player. He knew you worked with bands like 5sos, 21 Pilots and even wrote a few songs on Taylor’s swifts album, Reputation. He saw you at a concert once and immediately fell in love with the way your presence consumed the concert wholly. No one cared about who was singing because everyone’s eyes were fixated on the young seductress clad in black leather and playing her instrument as if her life depended on it.

“You can only grow if you’re out of your comfort zone.” Sarah firmly stated, crossing her arms over her chest huffing out a breath.

Harry thought about it for a good minute. He needed someone with experience and you seemed to have it. You knew how to write and what to write. Perhaps a little experiment wouldn’t be so bad.

“Okay. I’m trusting your judgement on this.” Harry said nodding.

“Great because y/n’s in the elevator right now.” Sarah said giggling slightly. “Thank God you didn’t say no. Would’ve been a difficult conversation.” She mumbled, relived at how the situation panned out.

The apartment bell rang and Sarah jumped out of her seat startling Mitch who was sitting next to her. She took long strides towards the door.

“Y/n! Oh my gosh, it’s been ages! You look wonderful!” Sarah said hugging you. You smiled and hugged her back, glad to meet her once again after what seemed like a century.

“Thank you. How’ve you been?” You asked her, not bothering to take note of the two men who seemed to scrutinise your interaction with quite a lot of concentration.

“Same ol’ same ol” Sarah chuckled as she let you in.

“Harry, Mitch meet y/n.” Sarah introduced you to them. You found yourself in an awkward postion so you simply gave a wave and a loose smile.

If Harry was a ball of sunshine then you were a raging hurricane. The two of you were polar opposites. Harry radiated warmth and seemed to be the kind of person whom other people could talk to. Meanwhile you on the other hand were someone who kept to themselves.

Harry couldn’t help but notice your sweeping eyeliner. He observed it quite attentively, how it was winged at the edge of your eye and in the inner corner as well in a feline manner. You wore low waisted jeans with a fitted graphic black tee shirt that ended just below your navel, showing a silver of skin.

“So y/n, what’s your work like?” Mitch asked you.

“I write mainly rock but I’m open to new suggestions.” You said. Sarah nodded as if to say ‘awesome.’

Your voice was firm and authoritative as you answered the question. Harry found himself completly entranced by this complexity of a person that stood in front of him. He figured it out the minute you walked into the room with your head held high that working with you wouldn’t be easy.

“Do you have any questions Harry?” Sarah asked him. Harry only nodded no.

“Great. Im going out for a smoke.” You said leaving the three of them alone again.

“She’s scary.” Harry said once the door shut. Sarah rolled her eyes in response. “She’s a no nonsense person Harry.”

“And scary.” He added again.

“I know you’re not used to people like her. Just because you’re both literal opposites doesn’t mean she’ll eat you alive.” Sarah snorted. “You like her, don’t you Mitch?” Sarah asked him. Mitch only swallowed and replied, “I like her better on stage.”

“Oh hush both of you. Give her time.”

——————————————

“It doesn’t sound good.” Harry huffed out impatiently, staring at the lyrics he scribbled. It had been more than a week since everyone started to work on his debut album.

Harry began to habour a certain disliking for you, owing to lack of your participation and one word answers. You would sit away from everyone, scribble in your diary and would rarely look up from its pages.

“You know what guys, let’s just take a breather yeah?” Jeff, Harry’s manager said getting up from his chair and stretching his legs.

“I’m going out for a walk.” Sarah said, pulling Mitch to his feet as well. Harry was about to get up as well but Sarah mouthed to him; ‘talk to her’ as she gestured towards you. Harry looked at her with wide eyes and was ready to protest but Sarah was quick on her feet.

“Y/n.” Harry called out your name. You looked up at him, the loose strands strands of your braid fell down framing your face. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘speak on.’

Harry cleared his throat. “What are you writing?”

“Nothing much. Just an idea.” You said. That was the most you had spoken.

Harry noticed that today, there was no eyeliner but smudged kohl lining your eyes. You opted for a plain white tank top and a pair of mini cargo shorts. A surprise for Harry who was much too used to seeing you in black.

“I think, everyone would appreciate it if you would participate more you know?” Harry said. You only nodded and went back to scribbling.

“See! This is what you do y/n. You don’t talk. You’re so busy doing God knows what. I get it, you know you’re talented but that doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Harry exploded. You shut your dairy hard and stared at him with rage.

“It’s been almost two weeks since you joined us. Have you contributed in any way?” Harry added, his voice reaching a higher octave and getting louder by the second.

“First of all, I don’t think I’m fucking better than you and second of all, instead of blaming me why don’t you recognise the fact that you’re scared and absolutely clueless.” You spat at him.

“I’m not scared.” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. “You’re so scared that you’re putting the blame on me just because I’m the newbie. This solo carrier is new to you and that terrifies the shit out of you Harry. So much that you can’t even work. If I have to be the punching bag then I’m fucking leaving.” You stated grabbing your bag.

“You don’t know shit y/n.”

You didnt care about what Harry said next as you walked out of the room.

—————————————————

“Was it really necessary Harry?” Jeff said, rubbing his head with his hands. The stress of not having completed the album began to increase.

“I told you, ‘give her some time.’ Did you do that Harry? No. You just had to say something.” Sarah said, flinging her arms in the air.

“I mean, was Harry wrong though? Y/n was… just there you know. She didn’t talk, she didn’t help. Good riddance I say.” Mitch said.

The whole group was torn up over this. Harry began to feel guilt overpower him, but the rage he felt at your words was far too much for him to hone. He knew you were right and he hated you for that. He hated you for the fact that you were so good at reading him. Harry knew that you didn’t talk because you were shy but because you never found yourself as engaged as the others. You were aloof, and gave the impression that nothing bothered you at all.

“It’s been what; six days since she stormed off?” Jeff asked harry.

“Seven.”

“Jesus.”

Harry was certain that you overreacted to the situation. Granted, you didn’t want to be here and Harry left no stone unturned when it came to reminding you his dislike for you.

The door bell rang, Harry got up to look through the key hole. He felt the colour drain from his face. It was you. Standing in front of the door.

“It’s her.” Harry whispered with his eyes wide.

“You know I can hear you, ya dick. Open the door or I’m leaving.” You, irritation lacing your face.

You began to hate Harry or at least develop an aggressive aversion towards him as time passed. You hated how he seemed to have enough energy throughout the day to burst into a song. You hated that he was all smiles and giggles every second of the day. The only one thing you liked about him was how intimadated he was by you. But you knew that he could be much more terrifying than you when the time came.

“Pick your poison.” Mitch said.

Harry opened the door to meet your black smudged eyes. You push him as you enter the room and slam the diary on the centre table with a loud thud.

“Here you go. You said Im no help at all. Well I beg to differ. I’ve written three songs.” You said. Harry picked up the diary and flipped through the pages.

Kiwi

Medicine

Only angel

Strange names for such explicit songs.

Harry passed the diary to Sarah who looked at the songs with amazement.

“Harry we’ve got to add these.” Sarah said, excitement lacing her eyes.

“I don’t need anyone to plead my case. If he likes them, good enough.” You said, your voice unwavering as you looked at Harry who narrowed his eyes at you.

“I like them.”

—————————————

Within a week, all recordings were done and the album was ready to launch. Jeff suggested that the four of you should to go out, let off some steam because life would never be the same once the album got released.

Everyone was quite surprised when you suggested a place to party. You were quite intent on getting shit faced because the past month had been a whirlwind to say the least.

You wore a black mini dress, encased with sequins that was backless. Your eyes were lined with heavy kohl and mascara. Your whole face was bare other than your eyes.

“Johnnieeeee!” You exclaim to the large bouncer, a smile on your face as you high five him.

“Y/n been a long time. I see you’ve got friends.” He said, eyeing the people behind you.

Sarah felt that the club you brought them to too was far too dark and dingy for her liking. It was dark and the music was blaring. The club smelt of sex, drugs and alcohol. Your natural habitat. She held Mitchs hand in hers who was amused at her behaviour.

“I promise I’ll be good.” You say, looking up at him with doe eyes and a sly smile. John chuckled and let you in the club.

“We have go to do shots.” You exclaim to all three of them. Harry was surprised at your behaviour to say the least, he never would’ve pegged you as someone who even had the ability to smile let alone laugh.

“Nope. I’m driving.” Sarah said throwing her hands up in the air.

“Jeez such a buzzkill.” You said making Sarah roll her eyes. You stuck your tongue out at her as you made your way to the bar with Harry and Mitch.

“Don’t stop till your at least ten shots down.” You said with a cunning smile and excited eyes.

“Ten?!” Mitch exclaimed.

“Six.” Harry interjected.

“Deal.”

Harry learnt a great deal about that night. Especially the fact that you have a tendency to dance with almost anyone and everyone.

He saw you make your way to the dancefloor, not bothered about the fact that you had no one to dance with. You swayed your hips to the song, your arms moving and a bright smile etched on your face. You were surrounded by men and women. Harry saw you dance with a man whom you didn’t know, he wished you would be that carefree with him.

After an hour of drinking and talking, Harry found you dancing on the table with a few other people.

“Is this normal?” He asked Sarah who snickered in response. “Yep. She’s a fun drunk.”

You spot Harry and get down from the table, stumbling forward. The strap of your heel loosened and Harry quickly caught hold of you.

“Wait a second.” Harry said, as he kneeled down to fix your strap. Once he got up he saw your glassy eyes laiden with lust and simply smirked.

“You like watching me get down on my knees for you, huh?” Harry whispered in your ear, his grip harsh around your waist as he pulled you towards himself . You felt heat rise up your thighs and stomach.

“Isn’t that what men are good for anways?” You whispered, closing any gap you two had as you put one hand behind his neck, tugging him closer to you. “Don’t think this changes anything betwen us Styles. You’re still a nightmare.” You whispered to him in his ear slowly.

You stood so close to each other that you could feel each others heat radiate. Harry’s heart raced as his eyes met yours. You were cautious with your gaze, afraid that if you looked any longer in his eyes, he might spot the hunger in yours just as you might see his making you lose any self control you exercised.

“I have someone waiting for me.” You spoke, breaking the silence. Harry raised his eyebrows in amusement as his hands wandered down your waist to your lower back. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he left a bite there. You let out a soft moan, turning into complete putty in his grip.

“I could fuck you much better y/n.” He said, his voice dangerously low.

“I don’t want to be fucked missionary style that’ll leave me unsatisfied.”

“Your moan said otherwise.”

Two can play this game.

You wiggled out of his grip, ignoring the throbbing between your legs as you sauntered towards the dance floor, blowing a kiss at Harry from a distance.

——————————————

“Hello?” Your groggy voice spoke into the microphone of your phone. Your head throbbing due to last night.

“Y/n. Where are you?” Jeff asked you.

“Home.”

“Come over to Harry’s. Got something to discuss.”

“I’ll be there in five.” You said before hanging up on the phone.

You washed your face, put on a large tee shirt and an oversized pair of sunglasses. You brushed your hair and slipped into your slippers. It was a ten minute drive to Harry’s house. The radio was silent. The windows were rolled down because you needed fresh air now more than ever.

You reached his flat and rang the doorbell.

“My my look who’s here.” Harry taunted as he opened the door to see you in an oversized tee shirt, legs bare and slippers. He couldn’t control all the thoughts that seemed to slip in and out his head as he saw your legs.

“Show me your eyes love.” Harry snickered knowing they must be bloodshot. You flipped him off and plopped down on the bean bag, groaning as you held your head.

“You seemed to have a lot of fun last night.” Mitch said, getting a stare from Sarah. “You should see the videos.” He added. Your head shot up at his words.

“Videos?”

“Yep. They’re too good.” He snickered. You removed your sunglasses and pounced at Harry who began to play videos of you dancing on table tops.

“Give. Me. The. Damn. Phone.” You said in between breathes as you attempted to strangle Harry. You were about to smack Harry but he picked you up by your waist, throwing you on his shoulder.

“Put me down.” You stated firmly.

“Only if you don’t strangle me.” Harry said chuckling at your sorry state.

“I don’t make promises Styles.”

“Too bad. I’ll post it if you continue to be a brat.” He said.

“Fine.”

Harry put you down, running a hand through your messy hair which you swatted off. He noticed how young you looked without lining your eyes, a different girl, perhaps even innocent. You looked like a doe. You looked beautiful.

“You’re drolling on the carpet Styles.” You said rolling your eyes at him.

“Am I supposed to deny that I find you attractive?” He questioned, his voice low and alluring. He spoke slow enough to make your thighs quiver. Your mind suddenly flashed you images of how his large hand felt against your waist last night.

“I’m too hungover for this.” The only defense left.

This was new to you. This feeling of loathing someone to no extent but also finding them undeniably attractive. Attractive enough to make your thoughts wander off to forbidden places and scenarios.

“What happened to your neck?” Sarah said, noticing the love bite that Harry left the other night. You rolled your head back as you rubbed your eyes with a yawn. Harry felt proud to say the least, he smirked and winked at you while you barely controlled the urge to smash his face in the table neck to him.

“Why am I even here?” You said groaning. “The work is done. The albums done. What do you possibly need for me now?” You added.

“Come to tour with us.” Jeff said, his manager persona now showing.

“What?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t in the contract Jeff.”

“Consider this, an impromptu decision.” He reasoned with you.

“I’ll do only concerts. No interviews. No playing for videos and no recordings.” You said.

“Deal.”

You huffed a breath as you reached for the glass of water next to you. “That’s mine!” Harry whined. You flipped him off as you wore your sunglasses and went to sleep.

“Oh y/n what’s your Instagram?” Jeff asked. You scoffed at his question, “don’t have one.” You simply said. “Well, Harry follows his band members so-”

“No.” and with that you went to sleep.

—————————————

The album was a success to say the least. Everyone seemed to recognise Harry as Harry styles and not as Harry from One Direction. It was bitter sweet to say the least. Harry was excited and enthralled to be able to embark a whole new journey.

The album release party was a success. But you weren’t there, Harry had called you not once but twice asking you why you weren’t there.

“Y/n, it’s already six, why aren’t you at the party?” Harry asked you on call.

“Because I didn’t plan on going.” A short answer. Your one word answers now began to become a bit longer but they annoyed Harry nonetheless.

“The whole band’s here.”

“I’m not part of your band Harry. I helped you write your songs.” You stated.

“But you’re going to tour with us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

And now as Harry stood in front of the stage, waiting for the crowd to pour in, he wondered where you were. You had insisted on driving to the show venue on your own instead of travelling with the band. Harry tried to persuade you but you didn’t budge.

“Is she here?” Harry asked Jeff who only nodded no. Harry was getting worried now. He was supposed to get ready, but he was much to engaged in wondering about your whereabouts. It was his first show and your words about him being scared rang in his head.

“She’ll be here don’t worry.” Jeff said.

By the time Harry got ready, he spotted you, a cigarette in your mouth as you look towards the stage. You wore a latex, dark emerald coloured waistcoat that resembled a corset. It pushed your breasts together and ended just above the curve of your waist. You wore low waisted black bell bottoms. The waistcoat and the bell bottoms gave off the illusion of an hourglass figure. Your eyes were covered in your signature feline eyeliner, curving in the inner and outer corner of your eye.

“Y/n!” Harry called your name. You looked up at him, a lazy smile on your face as you disposed the cigarette.

“My my look at you styles. A fucking prince you are.” You said snickering. Harry stuck his tongue out at you. He wore a red blazer clad with black flowers and the same pattern was all over his trousers. His hair were unruly yet only added to his charm.

“Ya scared?” You asked him.

“No. I mean, I’m just…. excited yet scared you know?”

“Hmm.”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” Harry said, his eyebrows raised at you as he scanned you up and down.

“Excuse me for not wanting to dress up as a fucking rainbow.” You said scowling at Harry who passed you a smile. “Y’know what would really go well with your top?” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “What?”

“Wait.” Harry ran off of to his dressing room, fetching a silver cross necklace. The cross was heavy and large, engraved with swirls and very small rubies decorating it. Harry gestured you to turn around, his hands brushed against your skin as he snapped it’s lock in place. The cross rested against the curve of your breasts, demanding attention and praise. “How about a hickey to tie your look together?” Harry questioned.

“From you? Not even in your dreams Styles.” You said. Harry smirked at you and went towards the stage.

—————————————

Harry felt alive. He felt free and invincible on stage. But you, you were the personification of sex. The minute Kiwi began to play, the crowds focus shifted from Harry to you.

You whipped your hair back and forth, your back arching, a cigarette encased in your pink lips, sweat gleaming down the curves of your waist, breasts and arms. The crowd went absolutely wild as you winked at them. Harry’s photographer, Lloyd was entranced with you. He couldn’t help but photograph you. Your eyebrows were sinched together in focus, your eyes closed, your mouth slightly open and your body fully arched.

After the first concert, the fans and media were deep diving into who you were and tried to uncover your identity. As the tour progressed, the crowd began to make posters stating things like “we’re here for y/n!” “Give us y/n!”

There were pictures of you everywhere, playing the guitar as your face morphed into an expression which Harry called your “orgasm face.”

Harry was asked about you during interviews as well, the media was left questioning about your identity and they found themselves allured by a recent stunt you pulled at a concert.

You jumped off the stage during Medicine and went up to a man, roughly around your age if not older. The man lit the cigarette in your mouth with his lighter as you winked at him and murmured “thank you love.”

—————————————

The tour had finally ended. You were in your dressing room, your chest heaving up and down. The adrenaline after the show still lingering in your blood stream. You removed your top and were standing in your bra, the minute Harry barged in.

“Knock on my door ya’dick!” You said, crossing your arms over your chest which did nothing at all to ease Harry since your breasts were pushed up.

After months of sexual tension, Harry finally felt himself crack.

“Got to teach you some manners.” You murmured.

“Really?” He tutted, pulling you by the loop of your jeans.

You understood where this was heading. “Hmm.” You hummed, moving your hands slowly on the buttons of his shirt. Harry caught your wrist making you look up at him. He looked in your eyes, deep and seriously as if to contemplate his actions. You pulled him by his neck, close enough that your foreheads touched.

“M’gonna regret this.” He whispered. He didn’t give you a chance to respond as he connected his lips to yours, his tongue swirling in your mouth. His hands wandered down the curve of your spine and lingered there. You deepened the kiss, letting your hunger overpower you. He wasn’t close enough, you needed his skin next to yours, rubbing, you needed to feel him, you needed him.

There was a knock on the door, you immediately recoil away from Harry although his hands were still on your bare back. “Y/n, Vanessa’s here for you.” Laura, his assistant said.

Vanessa and you were supposed to head out to paris the next morning. Harry felt a hole cave in his chest, remembering about your departure.

“I’ll be there.” You said.

You kissed Harry, a sweet and soulful kiss. Not the one that was ruled with consumption and the urge to mark.

“You should stay.” Harry whispered, holding you.

“I never stay anywhere for too long.”

Harry looked at you, his eyes staring into yours as you squeezed his hand. “Who’re you gonna strangle now?” You laughed remembering all the times you tried to strangle and choke him, resting your head on his chest.

“I’ve got to go.” You said, slipping out of his grip, slipping on a tee shirt as you picked up your stuff.

Harry looked at you with a look of longing. How stupid. How cruel. How unfair. He thought to himself as he saw you leave.

“When will I see you again?” He asked you.

“When it’s the right time.” You said, kissing his cheek.

——————————————

Authors note; how are we feeling about a part two? let me know in the comments section <3

#harry's house album #harry styles x reader #harry x y/n #harry imagine #harry fanfic #harry styles blog #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #famous!harry #enemies to lovers #harry styles #one direction #harry one direction #harry one shot

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cultofdixon · 11 months

Text

Let me help, sunshine

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Your anxiety toward your own self worth because of what’s happen to you, makes it hard to be a part of certain things. But he’s so in love with you that you never had to worry. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Limping / Canon Violence

Requested by: Anon

It feels like a fever dream. The good.

Y/N stood outside the burning prison holding herself as she shook from the blasts that forced her out of the bed she almost died in. The force from the blast also knocked her on her side, resulting in injury…

She’s been limping trying to find another from her group, or really shelter for that matter.

This feels like the start of the outbreak all over again. Struggling to walk through the destroyed earth and being mistaken as the undead. One too many accidents happened because of such.

The Claimers found her alone before Daryl joined them, even before Rick killed one of their own. He didn’t know Y/N was a part of them because their paths never crossed, and then again Y/N wasn’t…free. She was controlled that entire time, even when Daryl ended up with them.

He was relieved to find her alive. Relieved on an astronomical level…but it wasn’t a happy reunion. The two of them…

Daryl tried to check on her when he first saw she was with them. But this Len or Lenny guy blocked his way and glared at the archer.

“She’s been claimed, buddy”

The archer of course didn’t know what that meant but given her tense posture and the injuries that looked fresh, this group was one of the messed up ones. Or at least this guy that said such.

Their leader explained the rules. Whatever you see that you want, you say “claimed” then no one can do anything about it. Daryl instantly questioned why it was used on a person and was met with obvious looks that made his skin crawl.

“He won’t do nothin’ around us.” Joe laughs leading the way and the group started to walk.

Daryl wasn’t going to leave her and didn’t want to fight anyone in case they’d inflict anything on Y/N. Because little does she know…

When this group started to move and Y/N slowly faded into the back of the group, Daryl looked to the one who “claimed” her and given he wasn’t forcing her back beside him. He took that as his chance to talk to her in hopes no one notices.

But before he got a word in—-

“I’m glad you’re alive” Y/N whispers to Daryl as both felt that reassuring warmth grow in their chest, relieved that the other is still standing.

“Are you okay?” He whispers as she didn’t say a word but shook her head. She looks like a wreck. “You understand this claim nonsense?”

“I know if I just touched your arm, I will meet the short end of that stick”

Daryl wanted to help her given she seemed to be having trouble walking. But this situation with the Claimers only escalated.

This Len guy that claimed her, wanted to get rid of Daryl and decided to use their rules against him. Though it backfired on the guy and the leader in a way, preferred Daryl in their group. But when Len met the other end of a bolt…that brought up an uncomfortable situation.

“Can we claim what was his?” One of the Claimers stated and Daryl instantly stepped in front of Y/N covering her.

“Claimed.” He states and glared at those who even had the thought, which was most of them. Joe laughs a bit to himself and to Daryl’s eagerness.

“She’s yours, man. Even if she is kind of a dud” Joe continued to laugh and every fiber of Daryl’s being wanted to snap him in half, but given she doesn’t have to worry about any of them laying a hand on her. He could check their injuries at the next break they take.

But the next break happened in the middle of a road…where they were met with those who killed one of their own…that happened to be their family. Daryl did his best to intervene, even Y/N.

Then of course, violence was the only answer there.

It happened fast.

Rick taking out Joe, Michonne going after the Claimer keeping her down and the two going for the one on Carl. Daryl took out one of the Claimers on him as Y/N took down the other on the archer.

But the remaining Claimer knocked Y/N onto the ground, pinning her and the painful scream that ripped out of her when he applied all his weight on her already bad leg…triggered Daryl to full on football tackle this man off of Y/N and boy did he meet his maker.

Daryl went to check on Y/N but she wasn’t letting anyone touch her in the moment. He kept a respectable distance when they recuperated for the night and Y/N held onto herself for most of her avoiding eye contact from everybody. She was really wishing they didn’t lose the prison in that moment. Then she wouldn’t have succumbed to all the pain from the illness to her leg causing a lot of discomfort.

“Have you been with this group since the fall of the prison?” Michonne asked Y/N as she shook her head struggling to catch up to her pace when they walked to this ‘Terminus’ place. “Did you see anyone when you woke up? From the illness…”

“I heard Glenn, but I wasn’t quick enough to getting out. He wasn’t there anymore when I got out so there’s hope that he’s still alive”

“And knowing Maggie, she’s probably lookin’ for him” Michonne reassures whatever ounce of anxiety courses in Y/N’s mind when it came to the living status of their family.

Daryl glances back every once in a while to check on Y/N, making sure she was still behind them. She was getting slower and slower the more they walked endlessly.

And that only got worse after Terminus, and after the hospital…

The group was walking endlessly to a shelter that they have no idea exists. Everyone followed Rick’s lead and didn’t question it, but everyone was exhausted. Depressed. Mourning. It was just too much to deal with. Every break they took felt like it wasn’t enough and Y/N didn’t want to share anything on her mind when it came to her physical well-being. Meaning every thought of “just another five minutes” got shoved down and she found herself dragging her injured leg to avoid limping and stepping on it at times causing the sharp pain to radiate.

Her family took notice of the times she end up in the back and those who didn’t want to face the pain they endured mentally, they would stick with her and talk about it. She couldn’t just walk away, not that she would either. It was difficult to push her pain aside, literally.

“Why is he always looking back here…” Y/N whispers, catching Carol’s attention to look ahead noticing Daryl checking on them every now and then.

“You are always at the back. He’s checking on you. Making sure you’re still with us” Hm…

“It’s just…the deadpan look” Y/N shivered slightly a bit tense. “He’s a bit intimidating…and mysterious. But he’s kinda been like that always…just a bit more protective ever since reuniting…”

Carol may not know about what happened from the prison to terminus regarding her friends. But she knew why Daryl would be protective of Y/N.

The walking became rougher the more their group grew tired and dehydrated…Y/N started to think about staying behind. Because the stops didn’t last long but she found herself taking a while to get back up. Least her wounds weren’t bleeding anymore. The bruises lingered. Main thing being the limp and swelling…

Daryl couldn’t help the anxious feeling he got when the group started to pick back up after they had a break to look around their surroundings for food and water. He checked the group around him and then to the back…

No Y/N.

He didn’t want to rile anybody up and make everyone freak out, so he did his usual check around the group until he got to the back and once no one was looking he started to track back. It didn’t take long for him to find Y/N still sitting at the last spot they took a break at, she just thought it would be easier on them if she disappeared.

“Daryl…” Y/N frowns watching him kneel down to her noticing how bad her leg was and mentally beating himself up for not taking care of it sooner. A lot happened, there wasn’t a big enough window to take care of it. “You shouldn’t be here”

“Oh yeah? And you should?” His anger spilled into his tone with a hint of regret. “Why didn’t yea holler for anyone? Or me?”

“Thought it be easier…” Daryl gave her that same deadpan look that made Y/N now sigh because of the situation. “For me to just. Not hold y’all back”

“That ain’t right. Ain’t right one bit” Daryl scoffs trying to help Y/N up but she smacked his hands away for a moment. “Y/N.”

“Daryl just go. Seriously.” She frowns. “I don’t want to hold anyone back. That’s why I just told a few of y’all that I’ll catch up…”

“But you weren’t. And yea didn’t even tell me that. Since yea knew I would argue…well I’m gonna fucking argue” He sets his crossbow down turning himself around and patting his shoulders for her arms.

Y/N was confused. Confused as to why he cared so much. But she complied as she was too exhausted to try and defend her point in any way. What even was there to defend? She didn’t want to be the burden that she currently was and didn’t want to hold the group back. Daryl got that but every fiber of his being would scream if she wasn’t with them.

The retired sheriff gained suspicion when both Daryl and Y/N weren’t around him. But when he turned toward the back he saw the two. Daryl carried Y/N on his back as she had his crossbow on hers. He sighed a bit relieved before continuing further.

All this walking…made the suspicion thing of water magically appearing, very appealing.

“You think it’s poisoned?” Carol questions Rick as he shrugs, still not trusting it though.

“Someone is watching us”

“So we shouldn’t trust it” Sasha states watching Eugene instantly go for a bottle and the moment he opened it, Abraham smacked it out of his hand. “Seriously?”

“What?! Someone has to test it for poison”

“Should’ve been me” Y/N scoffs. “I doubt imma last much longer on this leg”

“Stop.” Daryl couldn’t help but be upset by such as he blocked her from going over to it. Even if she wasn’t going to.

Then a miracle happened, or a coincidence, whichever you believe in…when the rain started to pour. Few started to open the bottles, empty them and fill it with the rain. Others enjoyed the downpour…and those who’ve lost took it all in

Y/N still kept close to Daryl, this time for warmth but she felt uneasy…nothing changed with the physical feeling but something pained her chest as she looks up at Daryl noticing the sadness that radiated from his blank expression. She took a chance by gently interlocking her fingers with his as he instantly brought his attention to their hands before looking at her.

“I’m gonna be okay, Dixon. I have you”

Her words struck him down, while the rain actually made her fall down from slipping. A small laugh was shared even if that drew more worry from Daryl’s end.

The two have been close and the time from the Claimers to the barn being told about this new place that they could call home brought them closer. Now the group was being evaluated to be helpful around the community, they took their chances with it. With caution of course.

“How’s your leg?” Maggie asks Y/N once she got settled on the couch, after being told to stay out by both Daryl and Rick.

“The surgeon guy they have said I won’t lose it but I have to stop walking on it”

“And yea better listen” Daryl was quick to add bringing himself to the window behind the couch sticking close. Maggie let out a small laugh to his response but she knew he cared for Y/N.

It’s been a day and a half with being in this new community and Daryl kept to himself for the most part. Sticking outside on the porch of Carol’s on the side that connects to Rick’s. He would look in the window every now and then to check on Y/N making sure she stayed put. She slept for the most part given she didn’t let herself sleep when with the Claimers and during the illness she was afraid to. Finally not dealing with any threat she thought it would be okay and she was being taken care of so nothing to worry about.

Reg, Deanna’s husband, made his way over to the Grimes’ residence when most of them were out and Daryl instantly shot up from the porch when he got to the steps.

“Heard y’all had someone with a bum leg. Thought I’d bring these over” He states pointing out the crutches in hand. “We found them a while ago but knew Pete didn’t want your person using them immediately.”

“Thanks.”

“You gonna give them to…?”

“Y/N.” Daryl brought himself to the Grimes side and took the crutches as Reg smiles in his direction when he didn’t return it back. “Her name is Y/N”

“She’s important to yea, huh? I can tell” Reg smiles with a laugh followed as Daryl felt a twitch of a smile that he did his best to hide.

“I uh. Better get these to her…”

“If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask” Reg adds while taking his leave as Daryl watches him go to make sure he was gone before going inside the house.

The man always manages to sneak up on everybody, but to his surprise Y/N wasn’t asleep and gave him a smile the second he walked in.

“You shower yet?” She smirks listening to him scoff instantly. “Carol made me ask next time you came in to check in on me”

“You know I’ve been checking on yea?”

“You are sneaky, but not that sneaky” Y/N smiles bringing her legs off the couch patting the space next to her. Daryl approached at first because of the discomfort that grew on her face when she moved her leg, but then sat with her when she relaxed once more. “Those for me?”

“Nah they’re for me” Daryl jokes, a bad one, but it got a small laugh from Y/N. “The swelling down?”

“Yes. Not completely but enough to move around I guess…” She carefully brought her leg onto the coffee table showing Daryl as his worry poured out of him but in his own way. His eyes said everything. “Daryl, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm”

“Why…why were you so upset when I told you to leave me behind? I didn’t…if this place never came, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden to you all”

“And I can’t live in a world without you” Daryl without any hesitation admits a hidden feeling that Y/N, of course, didn’t connect that at all by everything he’s done. But it made sense…

“Daryl…”

“I wanted to go back in, when that son of a bitch attacked the prison…but Beth dragged me out. Tellin’ me you’re still alive. I believed her, but I was angry” Daryl frowns keeping his eyes onto his hands as he messes with a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. “I would’ve been angry forever if I let yea die in there…then those fuckers had yea. Hurt yea…and thank fuck they met their end, for ever laying a hand on you. But it just got worse and you were hurting the entire time that I just. I just needed to control one thing just for a moment…to keep you around…so I’d understand if yea don’t feel the same way or anythin’. But I’ll always do my best to keep yea around. For everybody, for myself, and for you.”

The immediate silence gave mixed signals to Daryl but before he could even have the thought of getting up and giving her space. Y/N gently brought her hand to his, letting him carefully take hers.

“I know you’re serious about your feelings…Im a bit…taken back…because I’ve never been a first choice or whatever. I’m not the best at explaining my feelings”

“Neither am I” His thumb rubs circles against her hand feeling her squeeze his hand while a soft giggle escapes her lips.

“Yeah, but at least you said something” Y/N smiles warmly. “Because let’s be real. Rick or Carol or Maggie—-literally anyone in our group. Would’ve probably had to lock us in a room together to get one of us to say something…if my anxiety of being locked in places didn’t kick in” he hums for a quick response taking in her words.

“I thought I scared yea. That’s why I didn’t say nothin’ sooner”

“Mm. You are intimidating, but I was more afraid of being rejected more than anything”

“So…”

“It’s mutual, Dixon” Y/N continues to smile leaning into his space pressing her lips against his cheek as his eyes closed to impact, and he found himself leaning toward her when she pulled away. “We’ll take it slow, Daryl. But to reassure you…I’m yours and no one will change my mind”

Daryl exhales finally letting that weight of possible rejection go as he turned entirely toward her releasing her hand and gently brushing the loose hair out of the way of her beautiful face. Admiring every feature for a moment.

“Will you let me finally help yea, sunshine?”

And so she did.

It took a few days to get used to walking without the help of crutches or her family hovering whenever they got the chance. Y/N was given a pantry job like Olivia which made it easier for Rick’s plans and Daryl got close with Aaron so he’s been planning a run with him while also building a bike. Which lifted his spirits when in this place, beside her of course.

“Hey!”

Daryl quickly turns to the voice after turning his bike on and tried to fight back the smile that succeeded in shinning through when Y/N made her way over to him without too much of a struggle.

“Hey…how’re yea feelin’?”

“Better. Going on a test run?”

“Yeah, ain’t letting yea on it until I know it won’t fling yea off without me knowing”

“So considerate” She laughs followed by a smile. “Be safe. Can’t have you limping”

“Mhm. I will…and even if shit happened, I know I’ve got yea”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

375 notes · View notes

bluebeary-jay · 11 months

Note

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age, for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together.

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

#bluebeary-jay's 1k party #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #peepaw needs some love and we need a volunteer #joel miller x you #the last of us #i love writing joel so shy and fumbling over his words #he might be an unstoppable force and ready to kill people without batting an eye but he WILL blush while talking to a pretty girl

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lnfours · 1 year

Text

nonsense | t.h

summary -> inspired by ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. dedicated to @darling-im-wonderstruck and @kate-bishopss <3

au -> tom holland x singer!reader

wc -> 1.6k

warnings -> unedited, fluff, tom being bf material, a little bit of language and sexual innuendos

masterlist | listen

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you sighed softly as you sat in the interview chair, tapping your fingers against your leg as your hairstylist and makeup artist applied some last minute touches before the camera turned on.

your new single had been on top charts for the past couple months, your album was coming out in a few short weeks, a tour was on the agenda for later this year. everything felt like it was finally slotting into place.

your fans had shown an insane amount of support from the number of streams and pre-saves for your new music, everything career wise made you feel on top of the world.

personal life wise, not so much.

you had met tom awhile back, the two of you had instantly connected while he was filming the latest spider-man movie. you two had gone out on a couple dates, hooked up a few times, the usual.

he checked all the boxes. he was caring and sweet, he made you feel like a queen, and he made sure you knew just how special you were to him.

however, whenever he was around, you felt knots in your stomach. the nervousness would set in whenever he was near. whenever you talk, you’d feel like you were speaking nonsense. all the nervousness is what kept you from jumping into something with him, but he was adamant about waiting for you. he didn’t want anyone else but you.

he didn’t care if it made him sound desperate, didn’t care about the girls in his dms or the ones who would text him and ask if he was seeing anyone. he only wanted you.

the camera started rolling and the interviewer introduced herself, smiling to the camera before introducing you. you smiled and thanked her for having you on before she asked her first question.

“so, ‘nonsense’ has been a huge hit,” she started, “you sing some very, risqué, lyrics, while also talking about how this certain someone makes you feel. did you pull inspiration from real life to write this?”

you nodded, “yeah, i did. i mean, you know that feeling you get when you talk to your crush? the kind of feeling that makes your insides melt? that's kind of how i feel with this person, every time.”

she smiled, “do they know they make you feel that way?”

you nodded, letting out a soft chuckle, “they do, yeah.”

she continued with the next question, “so, fans have speculated that the song is about tom holland, and you guys have been spotted out and about over the past couple months. are they right?”

you shook your head, palms sweating as you thought out your answer, “they’re all so creative with their speculations, but no, it’s not. tom and i are just friends.”

she tilted her head, “really? i mean, so many people have put compilations together of the two of you together and it seems like there’s some real chemistry brewing there.”

you smiled politely, “yeah, no. he’s really sweet, but we’re just friends.”

you felt the knots in your stomach again as you talked about him. just the thought of him made your stomach erupt in butterflies, how were you supposed to be together?

the interview was over after some more questions about the album and tour. you walked back to the dressing room, grabbing your things. as you scrolled through the missed texts on your phone, only one stood out to you the most.

tom: you were great ❤️

you smiled softly, going to reply, but your thought were interrupted when your manager walked in the door.

“the cars here,” she smiled, “ready?”

you tucked your phone back into your purse, “yeah,”

you walked outside of the building, saying hi and greeting some fans who waited outside. you took pictures, signed autographs, but the only thing on your mind was that text.

you pulled your phone back out as you got into the car, the driver heading back to your apartment building.

y/n: thank you ❤️

your fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating sending what you were thinking. you didn't understand why you were so nervous around him, why everything he did made your heart race or why he made your tongue go numb like all of a sudden you’re speaking gibberish.

none of it made sense, but then again, did it really have to? wasn’t the whole point of falling in love with someone about risks and growing together?

it was, right?

wanna get dinner tonight?

you locked your phone as soon as the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message. you nervously bounced your leg, trying to fight back the urge to say ‘never mind’ as you watched the city life outside the dark tinted window.

your phone buzzed twice in your hand and you hesitated before looking down at the message on your lockscreen.

thought you’d never ask

meet at your place around 7?

you smiled down at your phone, your manager looking over at you as she spoke up, “nice job dodging those questions about tom earlier. i know how important your private life is, we want to keep it that way.”

you nodded, typing back your response before looking back at her. desperately trying to steady your heartbeat.

sounds good, spider-boy ❤️

“yeah,” you sighed, “i mean its not like i completely lied to them. we are just friends.”

“friends who hook up and get dinner on sunset?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. you sighed as she giggled, “i mean, i know there’s something brewing, anyone with eyes does, but why wait?”

you shrugged, “he just makes me nervous, almost like he’s too good to be true.”

“for as long as i’ve known you, if anyone deserves the ‘it’s too good to be true’, it’s you.”

you nodded, a soft smile on your face as the driver pulled up in front of your apartment building. you said your goodbyes, heading into the building and making your way into the elevator. you sighed, pressing the button for your floor.

maybe she was right. she almost always was.

the next few hours felt like the longest ever as you got ready. your hair was still styled almost perfectly from before, you touched up your makeup, and slipped on one of your favorite dresses. you felt good, and you looked good.

you were in the bathroom, applying some lip gloss in the mirror when you heard the knock on the door. you ruffled your hair one last time before making your way down the stairs and to the door, the clicking of your heels echoing throughout the penthouse.

you opened the door, smiling as tom stood in a dress shirt and dress pants. his sunglasses pushed back the curls that would normally fall in front of his forehead.

he looked so damn good.

he could say the same about you, though. his eyes traveled down your body as soon as you opened the door. he smiled as he handed you the bouquet of flowers from his grasp.

you thanked him and let him inside. he closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen where you were adding the new bouquet to the vase on the island.

“you look gorgeous, love,” he smiled as he took your hand. you laughed as he spun you around in a small circle, pulling you into his chest.

the smell of his cologne was embedded in your brain. after many nights of rolling over and smelling it on the pillows on the other side of your bed, or on one of the blankets on the couch he claimed was his, it smelled familiar. the feeling it gave you almost felt like home.

“so do you,” you grinned, “where are you taking me tonight, holland?”

“mm,” he hummed, “i booked a reservation for that italian place you like.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his nose brushed up against yours, “the key to my heart.”

he laughed softly, “seems you figured out what the key to mine is.”

you sent him a questioning look, “what’s that?”

“writing a song about me,” he smiled, “or, as you say, ‘about you and me’.”

you let out a chuckle, “you listened to it?”

“of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s an honor to have a pop hit written about me, y’know.”

you hit his arm playfully, “stop.”

“stop what?”

“being so,” you trailed off for a second, “perfect.”

“you deserve nothing less, y/n.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he wasn’t holding you by the waist, you probably would’ve toppled over.

“you just make me so nervous,” you breathed out, “i’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.”

he smiled, “me either,” you returned the smile, “i know i’ve said it before, but i want it all with you. all the nervous jitters, the pillow talks, the dancing in the kitchen, all of it.”

in that moment, you put your nerves aside and let yourself give in.

“i want it all with you, too,” you mumbled, leaning closer to his lips. he smiled against yours as he kissed you sweetly, the both of you pulling away and erupting into soft chuckles.

your laugh grew louder when he picked you up, ignoring your protesting as he started up the stairs to your bedroom.

“what about our dinner reservation?” you laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

“you asked how quickly i can take my clothes off,” he said as he laid you down on your bed, “and there’s only one way to find out, love.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo,

jordan <3

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inkyvendingmachine · 7 months

Text

Mobs and Stalkers Season 4, Episode 3

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

Who is this guy and why is he following us? Why are we following him?? Why are we interreacting with mobs again??? How does this keep happening to us?????

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

IT IS THE NEXT MORNING. EVERYONE WAKES UP AND NOBODY (who slept over at JDS) IS MISSING, OR DEAD.

THAT’S GREAT.

Bendy even slept on top of Jack during their slumber party, trying to give the same comfort as an Beans might give. It might’ve been weird otherwise, but after all the hectic nonsense going on and not being able to feel safe going home, in this case it was welcome.

Joey slept on his research notes.

But it is a work day (at least it’s friday,,,) so the cots are shuffled away before people start coming in and questioning the group about the spontaneous night in. And foreseeing this might be a future issue if stuff goes haywire and they have to hide out at JDS more, Joey takes the holiday opportunity to get everyone out of the office for a while. Enjoy New Years Eve off, go party! Also New Years, to recover from the party. And also… the day AFTER New Years, to do all the things you meant to do on New Years but you were recovering from the party!! Look how nice Joey Drew is, giving so many thoughtful days off. Nobody come back until Thursday or else.

While everyone else is getting some work done, Joey checks in on Norman who didn’t even call in. He seems fine, but he’s still adamant about staying at home. Okay you do you.

(Joey sends Susie to hang out with Norman, as his inside woman and also because the Norman vs. Susie perception of the world will be nice when more things just. C h a n g e.)

The team has two big leads for trying to find Alan Leroy: Chandler Kreel and Amanda Cornish. Both of them are apparently good friends with him, and with addresses in hand, they split up to try and track down the danged clarinetist that they probably need to get to.

Jack and Sammy drive downtown to a bunch of law offices with apartments above, searching for Amanda. They’re able to get to her door pretty easily, but Amanda isn’t the one who answers. Her sister does! Luckily Jack’s there to run introductions because otherwise Sam’s scowling face probably would have just been turned away at that point. Sitting in the waiting room, Amanda soon joins them and admits that the last time she saw Alan was at a christmas party they went to… but seems to be kind of standoffish about any other information.

After some more charming by Jack, it’s revealed that she thinks he might be in trouble with the mob, and uh, Sammy… looking the way he does……. Maybe made her think they were the mob?? But with confirmation that, no, they super aren’t the mob and in fact are trying to find Alan before he possibly gets in trouble with a mob or two, she’s a bit more relaxed. Something weird is happening, because Alan really doesn’t seem like the type to be in trouble with the mob. And the last weird thing she remembers happening with Alan was… well, he got freaked out over some book she gave him for the holidays!

What’s so scary about a book? It was a pretty interesting read, here she’ll go grab it for ya!!!

Sammy is looking away Sammy is looking away Sammy refuses to look in any direction near Amanda as she, indeed, brings out a little black book with the Yellow Sign on it.

Jack immediately feels it wiggle into his head. But at least he’s able to wrap up the conversation with her in a… semi-normal manner? While Sammy’s eyes, darting anywhere else, find a photo on the mantelpiece that features Alan Leroy and friends, hanging out at a party scrawled with the note: Skinner Place, May, 1934… and Sammy is CERTAIN he recognises the man.

Oddly, his clarinet in the photo is missing one of the extensions he'd expect for a professional player...…….

Joey and Henry take the brown Mercedes to check out Chandler Kreel, who luckily lives in a nice part of the city that feels like a Mercedes might be somewhat… less… easily noticeable.

He answers the door but seems extremely nervous, like Amanda was. Leroy is great! So good at clarinet you wouldn’t even know he was down a finger!! Also totally a swell guy who shouldn’t be in any trouble so why are you heeerree??

Through Joey’s uh, storytelling skills, and Henry's good calming daditude, they get the idea he’s a loyal friend who wants to make sure he’s helping his buddy and not handing over information to the mob or any other parties that might be after Alan… Which means, he probably has information on where Alan is. Since it’d be suspicious to just plain ask, Joey goes the heartfelt “please reach out to us we’re here to help,” direction and hands off contact information.

While returning to the car, Henry and Joey find someone oogling over it… and this time it’s not some girl trying to declare herself Henry’s lifelong love, but the pale-faced man in a black suit that’s been seen everywhere recently. Their conversation is short, as the man mentions looking for a “wandering player” that needs to be returned to his place, and he walks off after some vague threats about what happens if you are in his way. Or if you lie to him, don’t do that either.

His mask-like face doesn’t move while communicating any of this.

Henry tells Joey once they’re alone that he thinks that guy is Fowler. He has the same nervous fidget Fowler used to…

Jack and Sammy go to stop by Norman’s on the way back, and find that… his place is apparently a block down from where it used to be!!

GREAT!!!!

When he answers the door and is immediately and frantically questioned about this, he takes a look around and confirms, shrugging and simply stating “it seems like I’ve moved.”

He invites them in for a housewarming party.

Susie and Norman have been playing cards. There’s no updates on Avadon. Jack and Sammy update them about the few tidbits of information they’ve found, and Norman finds a piece of junk mail to hand off to Jack before they head out. Since… the address on there seems to have changed too, so if Norman ends up moving again, well… they’ll know where he is!

The four of them meet back up at JDS to exchange information about Alan Leroy, and also eject the yellow sign from Jack’s head asap. Sammy's still worked up about this clarinetist's missing E flat extension, but Joey dismisses this as old news -- obviously; he's missing a finger. Keep up, Sammy. Peter has kind of also met back up with them, leaving a message on Joey’s phone talking about sightings of the masked man going through some magic shops in the city. And the fact that despite all his digging, he really can’t find anything about where this Leroy guy came from…

Joey tries to call Peter back by memory and it doesn’t work. We’re not going to talk about the fact that Joey has Peter’s number memorized. Pulling out his phone book, indeed, Peter’s number on paper has changed and that one DOES work.

Before they get much of a conversation going at all, Joey hangs up on Peter to try something. Instead of dialing a number in, or looking one up… he just wills himself to dial a number in to call Alan Leroy.

It kiiiindaaa works.

Joey manages to call Alan Leroy’s phone, but the same servant picks up and insists that Alan hasn’t returned home. Joey hangs up on him.

Peter gets a call back. Okay so there’s those Magic Shops he wants to check out, and also he has a lead on the gangster guy who shot the gun during the charity event. To keep Peter from doing nonsense alone and probably being abducted to Carcosa, Jack and Joey decide to go with him to investigate magic shops, while Sammy and Henry uneasily go to the bar to find info on the gangster guy, once Sammy is reassured that this won’t be like last time and all he has to do is eavesdrop. This surely will only go well.

At the bar, Henry casually brings up the charity dinner shooting while trying to fish for information, and maybe he talks a little too much, because suddenly all eyes are on him. What! Sammy wasn’t doing any talking so Henry was just trying to… do….what Joey would do? Henry trying to do what Joey would do has never gone wrong before…

Sammy and Henry are in a mob car, only kind of against their will. They are escorted to a restaurant, where they meet the extremely average looking Italian mob boss, Johnny Nero, who wants to know what they know about this pale masked man. At first it seems like they’ve made another great terrible get-yourselves-kidnapped-by-a-mob mistake, but the boss seems surprisingly rattled, and after some grilling from Sammy, Nero admits that… he’s seen some stuff that shouldn’t be…

… and Sammy hits the nail on the head when he asks, have you seen the y͟el͜l͘ow sig̵n?

Henry steps in and decides to offer to help him… to get him on our side, and understand that we are not a threat to him, we’re simply trying to remove the same thing from the city. After some pressure, Nero is convinced, and goes through the extremely normal process of Henry writing eldritch symbols with his own blood to remove the sign from him. After the nightmare has been yeeted from his brain, Nero turns out to be a wee bit nicer: he gives us all the info he has, but insists that if we find whatever the pallid mask guy is looking for, to give it to him so he can use it to get the guy gone.

And then he kicks them out without even offering them a ride back to their car at the bar.

Wrow.

What an extremely average super not classy even mob boss.

That’s gonna get you a terrible review on yellowp my dude.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, it’s time for

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*SHOPPING✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*~~!!

The first store is called Cool Jewel Skull. It has cool jewels and skulls. Surely that’s exactly what it says in the book, because it’s extremely not a legit shop, and Jack spends the entire walk to the next shop dunking on it to keep Joey's spirits up. They did find out that not just the Phantom but Leroy had been through it though!

The next stop is an apothecary, and it does seem a lot more actually occult stuff. The guy recognizes a photo of Leroy and confirms he came through looking for protective charms, but when he went to buy one, he dropped it upon touching it and immediately left?? Then the Pallid Mask guy came through later… Not much info on him, except that he was creepy, but we already knew that. The interesting thing is though, the charm that Leroy dropped? It has the same symbol on it that Henry uses to expel the yellow sign from people’s heads. So… weird that he didn’t take it with him…. And seemed allergic to it as well.

The three leave and try to go to the last shop on the list… but the address is missing from the paper now. Like… completely gone. Joey gets the great idea to try his “I'm going to will myself there” trick and closes his eyes, imagining a route to this store he’d never been to before, and giving Jack directions to drive there. Suddenly Jack slams on the brakes and manages to keep from completely smashing into… a man in a suit… and a pale mask…. There’s definitely a dent in the bumper now though, because Jack wasn’t that quick, and apparently a moving car is not more solid than this thing is.

Joey immediately starts cursing him out, but he insists that Joey called him?? before going around to the side of the car and opening the back seat door… where Peter is sitting. Not having this AT ALL, Joey tries to beat him out of the car with his cane, only to be thrown back against the dashboard.

With Jack frozen in terror and Peter having an oddly difficult time moving to even the other side of the car away from this pale jerk, Joey immediately decides he cAN AND WILL RIP THIS ASSHOLE OUT OF EXISTENCE.

And… somehow, it works.

It sure tears something into him alright, and manages to boot him out of the car, giving enough time for Joey to demand Jack step on it. And Jack, panic stricken, somehow manages to follow the command and at least not run into anything else as they drive off into the night – But just as he’s hit the gas pedal, he does feel the cold of both glass shards and … something else, as he gets touched by a hand smashing through the window in the last second.

Luckily Jack bought the first car on the market in the US that had safety glass so he’s not going to be fucked up much from this in the physical department, except for his wallet maybe.

Mentally though? Memories flood in…

memories of a time he visited a dream with his eyes closed, and almost had his head removed.

After they’re at a safe distance, a shaken Peter manages to pull the door closed.

And thank them.

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #joey drew #henry stein #jack fain #susie campbell #norman polk #peter sunstram

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merrybloomwrites · 28 days

Text

Harry x Louis x little!reader- Any interest?

Summary: Harry and Louis, two married dominants, decide now is the time to add to their family.

Word Count: 3K

CW: mentions of abuse, talks of little space, dom/sub dynamics

AN: I started writing this and it's been sitting in my drafts for over two months. It's a dom/sub AU where everyone received a classification, and some subs (including reader) are classified further as littles.

I would consider this part the prologue since it sets up the backstory of how Harry and Louis meet Y/N. If I continue this, the rest would be in 2nd person and would follow Y/N's journey in healing from her past now that she's in the care of two kind people. It would also include scenes where she's in little space, which is why I'm hesitant to continue, as I'm not sure how that will be received. But I was drawn to writing a story that allows for the reader to be taken care of by Harry and Louis, without actually being a child.

Anyway, would love to see how this does and gauge if people are interested in reading more!

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“He is absolutely perfect,” Louis says. He and Harry are visiting Sarah and Mitch to meet their second son, Theo. Louis cradles the two week old in his arms, amazed by how tiny he is, while Harry entertains his older brother, Rory.

“Makes you want one, huh?” Mitch asks. Louis sighs, thinking of the best way to answer this question for the thousandth time.

Because yes, he and Harry would love to be parents. But they just don’t see it in the cards for them. When they first met on the X-factor, Louis had already presented as a Dominant. The circle on his wrist had been filled in with the color red ever since he was thirteen years old. Harry’s had remained just an empty circle, signaling him as a neutral. Everyone presented between ten and fifteen years old. But then a couple weeks after they lost the show, at sixteen years old, Harry woke up with his circle now red. He soon grew into his nature, becoming a kind, yet firm dom.

It caused some tension in his relationship with Louis at first, but they worked it out and discovered how to navigate their new normal.

Mitch and Sarah both being neutrals didn’t quite understand the scrutiny that they face as a couple. Society may be changing, but people are still extremely wary of dom/dom couples, especially when they’re both male.

They’ve explained that to their friends before, saying how hard it would be for them to adopt when everyone is so distrusting of couples like them.

So instead of restating that fact, Louis replies, “With our lifestyle, I just don’t see us being able to care for a baby.” And it’s true. They always seem to be traveling, whether it be for meetings, recording music, promoting new albums or touring. It doesn’t feel like a stable environment for a child.

“What about adopting a sub? Specifically a little?” Sarah says.

This question has Louis' mind spinning. It’s not the first time this has come up, but he hasn’t thought about it for quite a while. He and Harry had discussed this years ago when One Direction first went on hiatus. But then Harry got signed to make a solo album and their lives became all about music once again.

“Think about it,” Sarah continues. “Talk to Harry. Neither of you are releasing music for a while, there’d be plenty of time for you to stay home and help them adjust. You should talk to my sister, she’s a social worker at a local shelter for abused subs. She’s really knowledgeable about all this, she could answer any questions you have.”

“Thanks, yea, I’ll see what Harry thinks,” he replies. Just then, the little one in his arms starts to cry, and Louis promptly hands him back to his mum.

He goes to see where his husband had gone off to, and finds him on the patio, listening intently to the winding, nonsensical story the toddler is telling him, while ensuring the little one doesn’t wander too close to the edge where he could stumble down the curb. Louis is once again struck by how wonderful of a dad Harry would be.

Maybe Sarah is right. Maybe now is the time for them to find someone to care for, someone who needs a home and a family.

He doesn’t bring it up to Harry that day. But the thought is constantly on his mind.

It’s a couple of weeks later, and they’re back at Mitch and Sarah’s house, along with Sarah’s sister Emily. Weeks of sleepless nights have caught up with the parents, and the other three are there to give them a much needed break.

Harry is once again outside with Rory, while Louis is in the living room feeding the baby a bottle. Emily is on the floor, surrounded by baskets of laundry that she’s folding.

They work silently for a while, Louis lost in his thoughts about his last conversation with Sarah. But when Theo falls asleep in his arms, cooing quietly, Louis can’t keep his questions to himself.

“Can I ask you something,” he says to Emily.

“Of course,” she replies.

“Sarah says you work at a shelter for abused subs.”

Emily nods in confirmation and waits for Louis to continue.

“And there are littles there?”

“Yea, more than there should be.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well littles make up such a tiny percentage of our population. And they’re only a small percentage of subs. And yet about twenty percent of the subs living there are littles,” she explains.

“Why is that?”

“Aside from young children, they’re the most vulnerable members of our society. When they’re in little space they’re dependent on those around them. Even out of headspace they’re very easily controlled. And many of them don’t even understand what abuse is.”

“I didn’t realize it was that bad,” Louis says as he wonders how someone can harm someone so innocent.

“How often are they in little space?” He asks. “The ones at the shelter?”

“It really depends on the individual. Some are little almost all of the time. Some go in and out. A couple barely slip at all.”

“But if they’re little doesnt going into headspace help them? Why would they stay up? Wouldn’t going into headspace be comforting for them?”

“You have to understand, a lot of them suffered abuse and neglect while under. They’d wake up and find that they’d been assaulted while unable to do anything about it, or that they’d been left alone the whole time without help. People would tell them they’re too much work, too needy.”

“God, how can people be so awful?”

“I ask that all the time. There’s one girl, in her early twenties. Youngest of seven kids, the only sub and little. Her siblings were all doms. And her parents just turned a blind eye and let them do whatever they wanted to her. Encouraged it even, said it was practice. Even let other people use her, for a fee of course. Luckily a couple months ago the right person found out about it and called the cops. She’s been in the shelter ever since.”

“The poor thing,” Louis says, trying to block out the awful images her story is making in his head.

“Yea, I think she’s only been in headspace once or twice since she’s been at the shelter. She always wants to be aware of what’s going on around her. Despite everything she’s still such a sweet girl.”

Before Louis can ask another question the back door opens, and Rory comes running in, Harry trailing behind him. Sensing that he’d interrupted a conversation he asks, “Whatcha guys talking about?”

“Emily was telling me about her work at the shelter for submissives,” Louis replies, not wanting to say more in front of the curious three year old.

They spend the rest of the day there, Harry cooking dinner for everyone. By the time they leave, Mitch and Sarah are looking refreshed and Louis can’t help the warm smile on his face when he sees them with their kids, a perfect, happy family.

He drives home, Harry watching him from the passenger seat. They’ve been together long enough for Harry to know something is stirring in Louis' head, but he’s not sure what it might be.

“That was fun today,” he says in order to start the conversation.

“Yea, it’s always nice to hang with them and help out,” Louis replies.

“I had fun playing football with Rory. I mean, he’s better than me but who isn’t?” He says with a laugh. Louis chuckles lightly and Harry continues, “How was it hanging with Emily? You guys talked about the shelter for abused subs right?”

Louis takes a deep breath before saying, “Yea. It was a lot. I didn’t realize how bad it could be. Especially for littles.” He’s quiet for a moment before adding, “Did you know how many littles end up in shelters? And some of them are too scared to go into their little space because of all the abuse and neglect. It’s just awful, Harry.”

Without a doubt this is what’s bothering Louis, and Harry takes a moment to collect his thoughts. He’s about to reply when Louis says, “Do you remember when we considered it?”

“Considered what?”

“Adopting a little,” Louis replies.

“Yea,” Harry says. “I remember. We couldn’t because I got signed.”

“It wasn’t the right time then.”

“And you think now would be?” Harry asks.

“I do. If you still want that.”

“I think I would, yea. And you, do you want this too?”

Louis smiles and replies, “I really do. I mean, growing up with all my younger siblings, there’s a part of me that’s always loved taking care of others. And if we can help even one person heal from a terrible situation, then yea, I want to do that.”

“Okay,” Harry says. “Then let’s do this.”

They pull up at their house just as they make this decision. Putting the car in park Louis turns to lean over the center console and give Harry a kiss.

“I love you,” he says and Harry replies with the same.

They wait a couple more days to make sure they’re serious about their decision and then ask Emily if she could meet up with them. She comes to their home for lunch, and though they didn’t say exactly what they wanted to talk about, she had a pretty good idea.

So she isn’t surprised when Harry asks, “how might we go about adopting a little?” as soon as lunch was served.

“Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to blurt that out right away. It’s just, we decided a few days ago that this is what we want to do, and I know that it’s probably going to be quite a process, with us being two male doms and everything so I just want to get started as soon as possible I guess. And I know there’s probably a million things we need to do and learn and-” he cuts off his rambling and mutters one more quiet sorry.

“Don’t be sorry,” Emily says. “It’s refreshing to see someone so eager and excited. You’re right that there is a bit of a process involved and it usually is more difficult for two male doms. But the two of you have a couple advantages, especially the fact that you’ve been married for over a decade. And people only ever have nice things to say about the both of you. You’re two celebrities that haven’t been in any sort of scandal since before the wedding. That’s impressive. Nearly unheard of. Proves you both have good character.”

“So you think it’ll be possible? That we’ll get approved?” Louis asks.

“Oh yes. I don’t want to get your hopes up too much by saying it's definite, but I have a good feeling it will go how you’d like it to.”

Hearing those words calms down the couple, and they listen closely to the process Emily describes.

They enjoy lunch and as Emily leaves she says, “If you come to the shelter Monday we can get the paperwork started.”

“We’ll be there,” Louis replies and Harry says, “Thank you so much, for all of your help.”

“I’m happy to,” Emily says. “I’ve known you guys for a while, it would make me immensely happy to see a sub in your home. I know the two of you will take excellent care of a little in need.”

Her parting words leave them feeling hopeful all weekend, and they enter the shelter Monday afternoon full of nervous excitement. Emily greets them and brings her straight to her office, passing by a day room on their way.

There’s a chorus of “Good Afternoon Miss Emily” as she passes and she replies “Good afternoon everyone. I hope you’re all having a good day so far.”

Harry and Louis glance in the room, seeing a dozen people. They’re all engaged in different activities such as reading and games like scrabble.

“This is one of two day rooms, meant for our older residents. Basically anyone not in headspace can hang out here. There’s another day room upstairs full of games and crafts where we bring anyone who is in a little space and is roughly three or up mentally. The nursery and sleeping spaces are upstairs as well.”

She leads them a little further before entering a room with her name on the door. She motions to the chairs in front of her desk and Harry and Louis sit down.

“Here are the basic forms to get started,” she says, handing each of them a stack of paper and a pen. “Get used to this, everything needs to be documented in extreme detail so there’ll be plenty of these to fill out.”

They all laugh as the two men get to work writing their information. After a couple minutes Emily’s phone rings. After a brief call she says, “Excuse me for a moment,” and steps out.

Then minutes later the door opens, but instead of Emily it’s a young man.

“Hello, I’m Eric Maas, one of the case workers here. Miss Jones is helping one of the residents and it’s requiring a bit more of her time than she expected so she asked me to check in on you,” he says.

After quick introductions they spend some time going over the form, and Eric answers any questions that Harry and Louis have. After another few minutes everything is set and Eric leads them back outside and they head home.

That evening they get a text from Emily that reads, “Sorry about earlier, one of the girls I’ve been working with finally slipped to little space. It’s only her third time doing that with us and it had been weeks since that last time so I had to stay with her”

After reassuring her that they completely understood she sent another message saying she’d submitted their forms and they should hear back soon.

As expected, the process takes a number of weeks. There’s background checks, home visits, and about a million more forms, but finally, they’re approved.

Now it’s time to start the next task of finding the right submissive. Harry and Louis are invited to spend a couple days visiting the shelter and interacting with the residents. At the end of the second day they’re back in Emily’s office.

“So,” she begins. “Is there anyone who you think will be the right fit for you?”

“I’m not sure,” Harry answers. “They’re all such lovely people, but I’m not sure we’ve really clicked with anyone yet.” He looks to Louis who is nodding in agreement.

“Did you guys meet Rachel or Y/N?” Emily asks.

“I don’t think so, no,” Louis replies.

“I really think you’d get along well with both of them. Is it alright if I have them come here to introduce you?”

“Yes, that’d be fine with us,” Harry says.

Emily steps out and comes back a few minutes later, a woman in her late twenties following behind. “This is Rachel,” she says.

“Hello sirs,” says Rachel with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” says Louis before he and Harry introduce themselves to her. They spend a few minutes talking, observing her demeanor and learning a bit about her. After a little while Emily leads Rachel out to lead her back to the dayroom.

“She seems nice,” Louis says.

“I agree. I could see her as part of our family.”

They don’t have time to discuss more, as Emily is now back with another girl. She’s younger, probably early twenties, and definitely more shy. She keeps her head bowed, not making eye contact with any of the doms in the room.

“Y/N, can you say hello to these gentlemen?” Emily says.

She looks up, and Harry and Louis offer her an encouraging smile.

“Hello sirs,” she says in a timid voice. Her hands are clasped behind her back, another physical sign of submission, but they can tell she’s picking at her nails nervously.

“I’m Louis, and this is my husband Harry. Would you like to take a seat?”

Her eyes dart between the three others, as though unsure what she should do. Emily finally says, “Y/N, take a seat on the couch.” It’s said gently, but firmly, a clear command, and Y/N quickly does as she’s told.

She sits on one end, glancing over at the two men and seeing their kind smiles. Harry and Louis ask her some basic questions, and after a few minutes she leaves the room.

“She’s quite shy,” Louis remarks once she’s left.

“Do you remember the girl I mentioned that day at Sarah’s? With all the dom siblings?” Emily asks.

It clicks together in Louis' brain and he says, “That’s her?”

“It is,” she replies.

“I’m sorry, what is her story?” Harry asks. Emily tells the story again, and by the end, Harry’s eyes are swimming with tears.

“Why don’t you boys take some time to think it over?” Emily suggests.

Harry shakes his head and says, “Lou, I want to help her. I want to give Y/N a safe home. I really think we can do it, we can show her what it’s like to be loved.”

Louis looks at the determination in his husband's eyes and takes a deep breath. “I think we can, too. It won’t be easy, not with everything she’s been through, but I believe we will do everything we can to help her heal.”

“So, Y/N is the one?” Emily asks.

“She is,” Harry replies, Louis nodding beside him.

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AN: Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear any feedback, even likes will determine if this gets continued since they show if there's an audience for this.

#harry styles x louis tomlinson x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #harry styles x reader #one direction fanfiction #one direction x reader

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