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lindszeppelin · 1 year

Text

Smooth Pretender

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Prompt: You and Austin can't keep your hands off each other at a very important awards show, and you risk it all to quench the insatiable sexual appetite.

Word Count: 9.6k

Warnings: swearing, semi public sex / touching in the company of people, (would this be considered exposition? Lol genuinely wondering), fingering (f. receiving), SMUT; oral (f. receiving), p in v sex. and obvs...baz being adorable to austin lol

Los Angeles, California; 8:00am

The faint chimes of your phone's alarm clock looped in a sweet sing-song, rousing you from your deep slumber. You groaned, annoyed that your sleep deprived body had to be jostled back to the land of the living. No matter how hard you passed out, jet lag drained you of every human function - rendering you like a zombie with a groggy morning voice and a dull pounding at your temples. If today wasn't such a special occasion, you would have the right mind to throw your phone clear across the room and snooze until noon. But it wasn't every day that you get to go to a glamorous award ceremony with your talented boyfriend, who was a nominee and up for the accolades.

Austin was always busy with work. He had a few films he was dutifully working on. His latest project took him to Ohio to shoot a film, and you barely got to see him. Especially because every other weekend he had to fly to California as awards season is ramping up in speed. His role as Elvis Presley in the Baz Luhrmann picture has him sweeping the competition, everyone is pretty positive he's gonna win the prestigious Oscar. Austin on the other hand, isn't so sure. He's keeping his feet on solid ground. But while he's in the running for his awards, he's being pulled back and forth across the continent to do Q&As and give interviews. While it's been wonderful to see your man get the recognition you know he so ardently deserves, you'd be kidding yourself if you said you didn't miss him. You've barely had a chance to see each other properly in months. But today was different.

With the wrapping for The Bikeriders completed, he had to fly right back to California and be at the awards ceremony tonight. You were so excited when he facetimed you saying he had purchased a one way plane ticket for you to California so you could be his date to the ceremony. Finally, you were going to see Austin and support him on this very important day. But you were scared shitless at the same time. This would be your first time going to an extremely photographed and high profile public event with Austin. Since you knew how the general public could be, you didn't want anything you accidentally did or said to be taken out of context. So you knew you had to be presentable and be on your best behavior - as anything mildly negative could reflect poorly on not only you but on Austin. And any bad press at such a serious juncture was not what was needed.

Your eyes slowly blinked open. The Egyptian cotton sheets felt like heaven on earth to your naked body as you writhed on the bed, rolling over on your front and burying your face in the silk pillows. Not even bothering to look, your hand nearest the bedside table fumbles absentmindedly for your phone, putting it on silent. Fine, I guess I better get up.

You huffed, shifting in your hotel king sized bed, and realizing pretty quickly that the warmth of Austin's naked body wasn't laying next to you. Furrowing your brows, you rolled over to the other side of the bed and felt out with your hand - emptiness. Damn, Austin must have woken up much earlier than you to get a few things done before the ceremony. His PR team always had him going to some kind of interview, or round table event - more campaigning for his Oscar. Waking up in bed alone in your hotel room in LA bright and early wasn't exactly how you wanted your day to go. But you learned that being with Austin meant you had to forego any and all expectations of what a normal relationship would be like, and that was okay with you. You both enriched each other's lives and would be in despair without each other.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stretched your aching limbs, shaking away the pins and needles from your arms before padding barefoot on the expensive carpet to the bathroom.

As the day wore on, you still saw no signs of Austin. You imagined that you two would be getting ready in the hotel room together with the entourage of stylists, hair dressers, and makeup artists primping you two up as the hottest couple of the season. But nope, you were still alone aside from any room service men you called to place an order for breakfast, which was a few hours ago.

You sat on the bed, watching something mindless on the tv when suddenly you heard a knock at the door. Your heart raced in your chest. Finally, maybe now was the time you'd have to get ready to endure hours of hair pinning and makeup brushes stamping your eyes and face with makeup. And as you predicted, when you opened the door an entire entourage walked right passed you in a frenzy with their work bags in tow. The hairstylist set down her foldout chair for you to sit in and got to the task of setting up all her hot tools, hair pins, and clips out on the large bathroom vanity table. The makeup artist worked around the hairdresser, setting up her own makeshift spread on the other side of you. It was overwhelming seeing all the different shades of lipstick, blush, eyeshadow, and various pairs of wispy false lashes all placed neatly in a tidy row. With the unfurling of her makeup brush case, and the hairstylist brushing out your hair free of knots, the process of making you drab to fab was about to begin. And your stomach was doing horrific summersaults.

You weren't sure how much time had passed since you started getting dolled up, but you were getting antsy to see how you looked in the full length mirror out in the foyer. The stylist and the makeup artist were nice enough thankfully, making small talk with you and settling your nerves as they asked about your day and how you felt about the upcoming ceremony. They asked you how you envisioned yourself out on the red carpet, and they took your ideas but gave a professional spin on it - doing a much better job than you probably could with your own makeup and hair tools. You were grateful for the help.

Sometime in the middle of getting done up, you heard another knock at the door, and the makeup artist rushed to open the door, ushering in a team of 3 stylists carrying a long dry-cleaning bag on a hanger with your dress inside it. Austin's personal stylist had given you a suggestion of three dresses to pick from that she had in her arsenal that was your size, given maybe a stitch or two in quick alterations. When you saw the pictures she had sent you of a gorgeous bright red floor length dress with a thigh-high slit, deep v-neck, and low back you knew right away this was your dress. It was gorgeous but it wasn't over the top.

Finally after some final last minute touches, your face and hair were set. The stylists led you to the mirror so you could get a look at yourself, and you nearly fell to the floor. Your hair was curled to perfection with delicate tendrils of your long hair falling over your shoulder. And your had a sultry, fox eye makeup look with winged liner, wispy lashes, and a bold red lip to compliment the dress. Damn, you just know Austin is gonna drop to his knees when he sees you in this. But you're not done yet. The last thing you needed was to slip into your dress and nude heels, and then you were complete.

And here you were, looking like you stepped out of a painting. The gaggle of stylists had packed up their things and left the room once their job was complete, leaving you alone to your own devices and chasing the butterflies in your stomach as the clock neared go-time. You were standing by the vast, expansive floor to ceiling windows of your hotel room, looking down at the LA horizon. All the cars down in traffic looked like mere specs on the glass. But it looked beautiful with the golden sun peaking through the clouds. You were so lost in through, trying to quell your nerves, that you didn't register the slotting of the key card and the familiar thudding steps that got louder until they stopped in their tracks.

"My god, you look like a vision." Said Austin longingly, as if his breath was taken away from him the moment he set eyes on you.

The familiar timbre of your man's voice sent a warm shiver down your spine. You turned around slowly, gathering the fabric of your dress and swinging it around so you don't trip. Finally you were face to face with the one person in the world that you'd move mountains for, who's arms that yearned to be around your naked waist this morning were sorely missed - and as he drank in the sight of you, you nearly lost your balance as you were struck with the most handsome man you've ever met in your life. How lucky you were, you thought, to be by his side. All of those sleepless nights curled up in the fetal position wearing his shirt that lingered with his sweet cologne while he was on the other side of the country made those moments worth it. It was in the thousand mile stare, the quivering lip, the hand over the heart, and crystalline orbs that hold every ounce of love for you that reminded you right now of why you chose Austin Butler as the man to spend the rest of eternity with.

And damn did he ever look fine. He's in a bolero jacket phase and you hope he never stops wearing them. The cropped length accentuates his devastatingly long legs. All donned in black, he looks tailor made and strikingly good looking - especially in his newfound facial hair that leaves you compressing your thighs tight to skive off the rush of arousal pooling in your barely-there panties.

You absentmindedly brushed some flyaway hairs from your forehead. Your blood red lips form the most softest of smiles that's reminiscent of old Hollywood glamor. "You look not so bad yourself, handsome." You purr.

Austin's pearly whites blinded you, his moustache prickling the sides of his plush mouth as he puts on the biggest of grins. "Do a twirl for me baby, please. I wanna see the whole thing." He says softly.

You oblige him. The slit of your dress exposes your leg, giving him a flash of your thigh and your foot slipped perfectly into sexy heels that define the muscles of your calves. You purse your lips, not taking your sultry eyes off Auston for even a second. You want to see how every part of him reacts, so you tease him just a little bit. You toss some of your hair behind your shoulder as you slowly turn around on your heels, revealing the low back of the dress. The breath hitches in Austin's throat as his wandering eye makes note of how the silky fabric clings to your round ass he loves so much, and exposes just enough skin to know that when he poses for pictures with you later his hand will make contact with your flesh. That thought alone drives him wild already.

You turn back around and face him fully, letting him get a good look at the plunging neckline that reveals your perky breasts. The thin straps of the expensive dress sits prettily on your collarbones.

"What do you think, Aus?" You ask coyly. You fluff your flirty lashes at him, knowing you've definitely got him under a spell.

Austin gulps, all of a sudden feeling hot under the collar. He can't just stand there gawking any longer. He has to be closer to you. The heel of his italian leather boots click on the floor as he makes his dissent. "I think if we weren't forced to go to this award ceremony tonight I would rip this pretty dress right off your body and make sweet, passionate love to you until sunrise." He said boldly, now all of a sudden right up in your personal space.

His forehead was touching yours, his button nose brushing the tip of yours as he ghosts his plush, wanton mouth over yours. He knows better than to plant one right on you, the lipstick would come right off and get you both messy, ruining the hard work of the makeup artist. But fuck, does he so badly want to collide his eager lips with yours and have his tongue explore every wonderful inch of your mouth - leaving you both gasping for air.

The fact that you can't have him right now kills you. How the hell are you gonna manage tonight? You have no idea, but you hope the ceremony is short so you can make it back here in record time.

There's a glimmer of sparkling embers igniting behind Austin's blue eyes as he seemingly stares into your soul. To him, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. He could break you in half with his cock or wrap you up in a protective embrace, cradling you like a priceless china doll in his arms.

Austin's long fingers brush gently across your rouged cheeks, and pull some of your hair back behind your ear. You can tell this one little maneuver has you blushing hard, the heat of your skin could melt this makeup right off your face and land into goopy pool at your feet. His other hand glides effortlessly over your waist, gently grasping your flesh and guiding you into his body. You suddenly feel dizzy as you take in the feel of Austin flush against your curves. Instinctively, your dainty fingers make their way into the inviting open neckline of his jacket, most of his toned chest on display. His curly blonde chest hairs invite you to play with them, and you do as you gaze into the man standing before you.

He hums as he meanders on the thought of smearing your lipstick, his eyes flickering seductively between your lips inching closer to him and your doe-like orbs. "But showing you off to the entire world as my gorgeous girl is also a good option." He breathily chuckles. You can practically taste the mint of his toothpaste as his breath pillows against your mouth. Before he pulls away from your needy mouth, he lets the rough hairs of his beard tickle you in just the right way to make you weak in the knees. Oh, what you would kill to have that beard of his tickle another place on your body yearning for his touch. Not now, but most certainly later.

It's all a vast whirlwind of mass hysteria swirling around you when you arrived on the red carpet. You swear on your life you've never seen so many grown adults foaming at the mouth just for one or two pictures of passing celebrities. And all of them do stop for these pictures, looking prim and properly dressed with dazzling smiles and sexy smolders. Austin has mastered the art of seducing through the camera lens. He calls it his "Zoolander" moment, aka pulling out the famed blue steel and melting the lens with his animalistic prowess that even he never knew he could muster.

When you first set foot on the carpet, your nerves were on full blast. Fans were behind black velvet ropes with iphones in hand, hoping for the chance of getting a picture with their idol. Austin was always by your side, his large hand entwined in yours. You felt safe and secure in his grasp - like no matter what happened, you knew Austin would be there to catch you. It was really cute seeing Austin pause for a few moments to take some pictures with fans who were calling out his name. He just couldn't help himself. He always had to oblige someone who admired his work. It's like he was having all of these "pinch me" moments right before your eyes, and you were witness to the blossoming of Austin Butler.

He stole the show. And with you on his arm, you could feel a few eyes on you too. After all, this was your first public appearance being seen with Austin in a major way. While the occasional paparazzi shots from diner dates, or nice walks in the park at home was something you got used to with time, this was an different animal entirely.

The further down the red carpet you went you felt like you were in Oz, traveling down the yellowbrick road into madness. All around you were famous movie stars, directors, screenwriters, models, and other important people dressed in clothes you knew were so expensive you'd probably lose your mind if you saw the price tag. And here you were, a run of the mill girl from small town beginnings with your boyfriend Austin Butler. To say it was surreal was an understatement.

You gripped Austin's hand a little tighter when you noticed that you were both making your way to a photo-op specifically for high profile guests to get their pictures snapped by about 20 zealous photographers for magazines. The thought of the whole world seeing all of your imperfections in 4K made you sweat uncomfortably. Austin could feel you trembling on his arm, and he looked down at you with a concerned furrow of his brow.

Austin placed his free hand over yours, stroking you lovingly. "Baby, it's gonna be okay. Just breathe." He said in a whisper against the shell of your ear, so only you were privy to what he was saying. He's all too aware that there could be wandering eyes and he didn't want to draw anymore unwarranted attention to your anxiety, making you uncomfortable.

Your frightened eyes glanced up at him. "What if something happens? Like, the photographers yell at me or I get booed? Is that even a possibility?" You ask in a frenzy.

Austin's lip tweaked into a slight smile, admittedly finding your nervousness a little adorable. "No one is gonna boo you. And if they do, they'll deal with me. And they won't like me when i'm angry." He said playfully with a slight growl at the end of his words.

His humor cuts through the trepidation like a knife, making you smile. Your eyes melt when you catch his fixed gaze upon you, his blues sucking you in and making you forget about everyone around you except for him. "I can see the headlines now. 'Austin Butler punches the lights out of boisterous photographer. Still wins award for Best Actor'.". You joke.

Austin scrunches his nose and throws his head back, laughing adorably. Out of your peripheral in this moment you see the bright flash of a camera illuminating both you and Austin. A photographer definitely snapped that candid moment of you two laughing together. You're sure when that picture makes it on to the internet that people are gonna be wondering what you said to make the man of the hour laugh so hard. If only they knew.

It was your turn now to stand on the red carpet and get your professional pictures taken with Austin. Even though you cringe at the thought, it reminds you of high school prom. But this time, you're not linking arms with some acne-faced teen and a dress you picked out last minute from some local department store with a cheesy smile plastered on both your faces. This was the moment you knew the internet at large would never let you live down. It would either go over swimmingly, or it would be a disaster. But you hoped for something in the middle to better your chances of succeeding.

Austin led you over to a spot on the ground with a large X, indicating where exactly you stand so all the photographers can have their best shot. Immediately all you could hear was a litany of men and women with cameras strapped to their necks shouting Austin's name, begging him to look at them for a picture. But Austin wouldn't give into their pleas so easily. He was laser focused on you.

As you got into position like you practiced - standing to Austin's side with one hand behind his back and your front leg pointedly posed to show off your best assets, you could feel Austin ogling down at you, and only you.

While the photographers were getting rowdy, at this point begging your man to look up into their cameras, he was transfixed on how beautiful you were nestled warmly into his side. You trailed your eye up his lean body, landing on his baby blues that were like tidal waves lapping against your body. His cup overflows with complete adoration of you, and he feels like the luckiest man to get to be with you. Austin proudly smiles down at you, never once daring to give the eager photographers what they want. This is about you and him. No one else.

You could feel your heart racing wildly in your chest as you lingered on his hypnotizing gaze. The blinding flashes of cameras snapping was going on in front of you, but in this moment you didn't care what you looked like or what was going on around you. All that mattered was the man holding you close to his side, displaying you off in a light show of dominance to everybody that you're his and he is yours.

His lips parted, and time seemed to slow down when you caught him leaning down close to you. While he resisted his urges back in the hotel room to kiss you, he wasn't going to now. It felt like the right moment, and he was gonna seize the opportunity. He just wanted to have a genuine moment of shared intimacy with his woman. And you let him finally caress his velvet, all encompassing lips onto yours for the first time in what seems like forever.

As he let his hand dance over the searing skin of your exposed back, the other one cupped your face tenderly. His hands are so large that it feels like your entire head can fit perfectly in his palm. It leaves you trembling, and yearning more of him. For a few moments, you bask in the sweet kiss. And you whimper against him, totally forgetting your surroundings and not caring who can see the PDA. Austin's moustache faintly whispers over your top lip, and he too moans softly as his mouth works against yours in a tasteful display of affection.

Little do you know that the photographers are eating this up like it's the best thing they're ever gonna get for their magazines. It's a fury of hollers and cheers from other celebrities who see the whole thing going down on the carpet, egging you both on. They probably assume that this was purely a show for the cameras, but they applaud you all the same.

Austin's thumb grazes over your cheekbone, and with a wet pop his lips were gone from yours. You both slowly open your eyes and stare into each other's souls. You giggle a little when you notice a pink flush creeping up on Austin's tan skin, demure once again in his usual modality. And luckily not a lot of your lipstick transferred over to him. Whatever little stain it did leave behind, he licked his lips and rubbed them together, deciding he was gonna proudly display your lipstick residue on his mouth - all the more reason to let every single person at the ceremony know who he belonged to.

Not long after the exuberant display you and Austin made to the cameras on the carpet, you both made small talk as you made your way inside the venue. It was dimly lit, but there were glass chandeliers hanging from each ornately made up table. It looked so regal, and yet again you felt out of place. Like, should you really be here? Did you belong here? But with Austin by your side, he made you feel like you could walk on water and you'd believed it. So for the time being, you let the nagging thoughts leave your mind and allow yourself to just be present.

With your hand in his, Austin led you to the Elvis table where you saw a few familiar faces. His movement coach Polly Bennet was there, the fantastic fashion designer Catherine Martin looked sensational in one of her own creations, and of course the wonderful Baz Lurhman looked dashing as ever as he greeted you both warmly with smiles and a hug.

As Austin pulled out your chair for you to sit down, ever the gentleman, Baz perked up. "I thought I heard all that commotion going on out there. Word got around quick that you two were making quite a scandalous scene on the carpet. Do tell." He said a little tipsy already with his champagne flute sitting daintily in his hand. He wiggled his fluffy white brows and narrowed his dark brown eyes as he dramatically took a sip of the bubbly.

You blushed all over again, this time from embarrassment. And you heard Austin laugh nervously from behind you, making sure you were settled in your seat before he sat down next to you. "What good will words do when you can see it for yourself in the papers tomorrow?" Austin quipped teasingly.

Baz snickered. "Oh, young love. Ain't it just the best." He said in a wistful dreamy tone, leaning back in his chair, admiring the pair of you before him as if you were a young romeo and juliet.

Austin smiled at you, interlacing his hand with yours and kissing your knuckles sweetly. "You damn sure are right about that, Baz.". Well shit, you blushed all over again. You thank god it looked like the most darkly lit Hollister store right now in this venue, because you were sure you looked beat red.

Baz sipped more on his champagne, eyeing the two of you just a tad bit longer than maybe one should. But he was looking on in almost a proud fatherly way. Austin was happy, and it was obvious. And that meant the world to him. Not just because Austin was the star of his film. No, it was because he and Austin formed a special bond on set that can never be broken. Austin's likeness and talent doesn't come around all that often. Maybe once in a blue moon. And seeing Austin happily settled in the romance department made him sigh a breath of relief, as he knows the man deserves it. Baz put one of his arms behind the chair of his beautiful wife Catherine, and allowed the love radiate over the table.

As time drew on, dinner was served at the tables. You were used to being wined and dined by Austin. Money is no object for you, and he loves to pamper his girl. Sometimes you want to retch at the 3 or 4 digit totals of the bills you two have shared together, but he insists on splurging for you. He dutifully saves his money so he can have the means of treating you like he believes you should be.

This time, you were thankful Austin didn't have to reach into his pocket to pay for dinner. It was a nice spread, and occasionally you would both pick at each other's plates, or feed each other heaping forkfuls into the other's mouth like a newly married couple. No one really batted an eyelash at you and Austin being sickeningly sweet at the table, and if they did they kept their mouth shut letting you both enjoy this magical evening of pure delights.

One thing remained constant the entire evening - Austin's hand never left your thigh. And he chose his seat wisely, knowing that you cross your leg on the side where the slit hangs off your thigh. While no one can even notice he has his hand on your exposed leg, you two certainly know what's going on. With his hand under the tablecloth, out of eyesight, sometimes you could feel his calloused fingertips painting lazy circles on your flesh. Maybe every so often he would toy with the fabric of your dress, rubbing the silky material between the pads of his fingers. Other times, he would push the fabric to the side, letting it fall even further up your thigh, and tracing featherlight touches on the newly revealed skin.

Some of this he was was doing almost as a subconscious tick, not even aware that his hand was on autopilot. But other times it was deliberate, and you both knew it. He tried to get away with just how much he could show off your tantalizing skin, and how close he could get to your heat without daring to directly go there. It was the best kind of torture. Especially after that longing, dreamy kiss you shared with him on the carpet. You wanted nothing more than to get through all the awards and drag him back into an uber to a one way trip to your hotel bed. But since Austin was up for an award, you weren't going anywhere. You were glued to your seat for the next foreseeable few hours. This was gonna be hell.

Finally you were excited when the award ceremony actually got underway. One by one awards were being given out like hotcakes to happy winners, and long speeches were made in their wake. You'd be lying if you didn't find yourself zoning out for most of the event. It was getting a little tedious, and honestly all you cared about was Austin's nomination. It seemed like they were saving the best for last though, because after an hour of awards being passed out left and right, they were nowhere near the Best Actor category your man was nominated for.

But just as quickly as your brain was starting to tune out the world around you, there again you felt the familiar caress of Austin's fingers trailing up your thigh under the table. Your heartbeat jumped, your ears ringing the more it seemed like Austin wasn't stopping. He was walking his hand along his desired path right where you wanted him after all this teasing.

Hold on. Right here and now, though? In front of everybody? Maybe he's gonna stop just shy of your aching heat, leaving you wanting more. Surely you figured that he wasn't bold enough to do anything more than that. Right? No, seemingly not, you were mistaken.

All you could focus on now was his hand. You didn't even hear anything that was being said onstage or what was happening. You just kept a deadpan expression on your face as best you could as you zoned out, as to not alert anyone of the goings on under the table.

Austin brushed the fabric of the dress to the side and inched his hand up higher on your thigh. Giving the flesh a gentle squeeze, his hand snuck between your crossed legs, nudging them apart with barely any force. Slowly, you allowed yourself to uncross your legs. Your right knee touched Austin's as you settled into this new position. You could feel the heat radiating off of him in droves just from that one gentle graze of his black slacks against your bare leg. Already debased thoughts were swirling around in your brain. It was getting hard to concentrate on anything else but what may happen next. He was keeping you on your toes, and your body was willingly giving into him.

You wanted to see what he looked like right now, his hand fully committing to the task at hand, and under the cover of darkness. No one was the wiser. Slowly but surely his fingertips went high and higher under your dress until his pinky landed at the hem of your panties. You were frozen in your spot. Oh fuck, he's really gonna do this. There's not stopping him. He was gonna take what was his, and in front of the most famous people in Hollywood.

You swallowed thickly, awaiting for his next step. His pinky finger trembled slightly as it dared to trace your clothed slit up and down languidly. All of your senses were heightened so much that you could just barely register the gasp Austin emitted from his throat when he felt just how soaked through you were for him. Does he dare to go further? Yes, he does.

Not wanting to waste any more time, needing you right this very moment, he carefully grasps your ruined panties in between his fingers and shifts them to the side. A cool breeze hit your hot, aching pussy. You tried your best to stifle back the whimper that wanted to come out when you felt Austin's hand cup your slick mound, his long middle finger running circles over your entrance. He obscenely smears all of your juices that come gushing out of you and collects some of it on his fingers, letting the sticky wetness coat him good and proper.

Now you really wanted to take a look over at Austin and see if he was crumbling or not like you were. It was added torture that you couldn't give away the game by passing a glance back in his direction. He could feel how needy you were for his touch, how wet you were for him in front of all these important people. And that made him painfully hard.

He's the master at edging. And with his fingertips dripping with your heavenly nectar, he makes a beeline for your swollen clit. You couldn't help yourself, you let a little moan creak past your lips. The chair you sat on was enduring the mighty strength of your grip against it as you white knuckled the seat with one of your hands, trying to ground yourself.

Momentarily, Austin shut his eyes and faintly whimpered, the cracks of his facade shining through. He knew exactly how to touch you to have him writhing in pleasure. You just have to sit there, pretending like Austin isn't running deliberately slow circles around your throbbing clit, making you feel every single stroke of his masterful fingers as he toys with you like his own perfectly tuned musical instrument.

This game is too much to do alone. The longer he spins laps around your clit, the more soaked your seat beneath you becomes. This erotic power play is intoxicating for the both of you. What started off as innocent touches is now a full blown high speed chase for primal pleasure, no matter how public it is. Even if it were to somehow risk Austin's chances of winning his award tonight, it would be worth it to have his fingers forever tangled in your folds, smothered in your juices.

You can't take it anymore. You have to feel him. With your right hand you go under the table and slowly make your move to his manhood - but not before you tease him too. The moment your hand lands on his muscular thigh, you feel Austin's breath catch in his throat. He wasn't expecting this turn of events. But he's not pushing you away. He wants to see where this goes, and more so than ever he wants you to touch him just as badly.

Austin shivers under your hand as you walk your fingertips over his slacks. The pleats at his crotch yield way to the massive girth of his cock that strains underneath the luxe fabric. You breathe a sigh that's one of relief and pleasure when your hand comes into contact with his erection, at long last.

Poor Austin had to cough out loud and grab his glass of iced water on the table, pretending like he was overcome with a sudden coughing spell. But it was all a rouse to bite back the moan he did a bad job of concealing the second you squeezed his cock in your warm hand.

It was a sneaky game of chess now. You made your move, but you weren't prepared at all for the swiftness of the turn this would take when all of a sudden you felt Austin's fingers make their way down from your clit and plunge into your pussy. Your walls immediately clamp down around his index and middle fingers, knuckles deep inside you.

You felt like soon enough the chair you were sitting on would give way due to how strongly you had it in a vice grip. You pursed your lips together and breathed harshly out your nose during a moment in the ceremony when loud claps erupted after an arduous speech, skillfully hiding the feeble noises you were making.

You knew that you couldn't just unzip Austin's pants and whip his cock out under the table. That would be putting the two of you at a massive risk of obviously being caught. So you do what you can, and you wrap your hand around his throbbing clothed cock and start to jerk him off up and down under the table.

You can feel Austin suck in his stomach, holding back the urge to throw his head back and moan obscenely loud at how good you were stroking him. His good girl, his sweet innocent girl working his shaft to the entire Academy of Hollywood elites had him nearly cumming in his pants. And as his fingers plunged in an out of your soaking wet pussy, he could tell it was all too consuming for you too.

This wasn't enough. He needed more. You both craved the other. Screw the awards ceremony. While this was Austin's big moment, all that mattered to him was sinking his thick cock into his girls dripping wet pussy. He didn't think of it as a risk to undertake. It was a simple solution to a problem he created. But the trick was getting you both away from everyone and having his way with you.

As if fate was on both of your sides, the host of the ceremony announced a brief 15 minute intermission midway through the doling out of awards. Thank fucking god. It was now or never. The tables around you were bustling with new energy as people started to rise to their feet and stretch their limbs.

You let out a whine when Austin removed his fingers from your pussy, wanting nothing more than for him to be back in there. But as he wiped off your juices on the napkin on his opposite thigh and clutched onto your hand atop his cock, you knew that you were gonna get something even better than his fingers.

The brief but intense heated glare you both passed each other for the first time since this whole teasing game started was palpable. The tiny embers from when Austin saw you in the hotel for the first time to the rolling flames on the red carpet as he kissed you deeply in front of the cameras, to the insatiable burning inferno his stormy blues ricocheted into your lusty eyes said it all. 15 minutes was all you'd get with him, but it was enough to tide you both over.

Austin cleared his throat, swallowing the arousal that pooled in his throat. He leaned over to Baz and said, "We'll be back in a few. Don't wait up for us." With his best attempt to disguise the obvious sexual desire dripping from his vocal chords.

Baz eyed the both of you in a very dad-like manner. "Well, hurry back Aust. You don't wanna miss the announcement of your award. If you miss it i'll happily scamper up there to collect if on your behalf." He jabbed playfully.

Austin laughed, patting Baz on the back. He waited for the right moment when everyone at the Elvis table was looking elsewhere before taking you in his hand and rising from the table, albeit a little awkwardly and hunched over. His raging boner was making it almost impossible for him to stand up straight, but he thanked god that there was a little wiggle room and pleats at the front of the pants to hide any unfortunate fashion faux pas, like right now.

He let you lead the way, hiding his erection behind you from the view of possible eyes as you both walked hand in hand to your unknown destination.

While fucking Austin in a coat closet wasn't the ideal situation you'd hoped for, and it certainly wasn't on your bucket list, you made do with the best of the situation. The bathrooms would be too crowded, and not enough privacy. Who would be heading into the coat closet during the middle of the ceremony? Two horny lovers who can't get enough of each other, that's who.

As soon as he closed and locked the door to the large walk in closet, it was endgame. Like a lion going in for the attack, Austin rushes over to you with a few brisk steps and crashes his lips onto yours.

You both pass each other needy moans into each other's mouths, sucking and swirling in a messy collision of lips and tongues. Austin would be covered in lipstick marks by the end of this, but he didn't give a damn.

He backed you against the wall, fumbling hands clambering over every single bit of skin he could latch his fingers onto. And you found purchase in Austin's ashy blonde waves, tousling his coiffed hair his stylist spent a good amount of time getting just right. But you needed him closer. If you could melt with his soul in his moment you would.

Austin moaned heavy against your mouth before pulling away, gulping down air like it was going out of style. "I can't believe how wet you were for me out there." He heaved out, his lips attacking the sensitive flesh of your neck. You mewled and clung even more desperately for him.

"I can't believe how hard you were for me. You have no idea how badly I wanted to pull your cock out and make you cum in my hand." You breathed lustfully, sighing as Austin's mouth worked wonders on suckling the skin down your decolletage.

He whined haughtily. "You'd like that wouldn't you, baby? Milking my cock while they call out my name to get my award."

You moaned, wrapping the leg exposed by the slit of your dress hoist up around Austin's svelte waist, drawing him in. Austin takes the invitation and grabs hold of your thigh. The silver rings on his large dominating hand press into your skin, leaving red welts behind. Latching onto your leg, he brings you closer to his hard body, rocking his hips directly into your aching core.

You mewl, lolling your head to the side, earning Austin more access to nip and lick back up the column of your neck. "Maybe I would. At least everyone would know for sure that you were mine." You purr.

Austin darkly chuckles against the shell of your ear, grinding his erection firmer against your mound, which made you whimper softly. "Don't fret, my love, we made sure to remedy that on the carpet earlier. By tomorrow everyone will get to see the girl that captured my heart for life."

Face to face with Austin once again, he looked like a wild animal in heat with mad eyes, smeared rep lipstick, and his waves now unruly atop his head. With one hand still firmly holding your leg against his waist, the other one glided up your feminine curves, cupping your breast roughly in his line of fire, causing you to gasp.

His fingers wrapped around the front of your throat, applying just enough pressure to assert his dominance. "The entire world will finally know the pussy I sink my cock into at the start of every morning and end of every night." He growled huskily. His rumbling baritone permeated through to your very core, sending a homerun directly down into your clit.

You furrow your brows together and moan at this emboldened statement. As if you weren't already wet before, that made you gush out and ooze onto your ruined panties. The corners of Austin's lips curled devilishly into a coy grin. All the while he was still teasing you with grunts and thrusts of his strained cock against you. Seeing the effect he had over you made him high, better than any drug can do, and he could chase that feeling all day for the rest of his life.

"Austin, please." You plea in a whiny high pitched tone. Your deft fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck, and you grind yourself as best you can against his length, stirring up the friction you desperately needed on your pussy. Austin sunk his pearly whites into his puffy bottom lip, getting off on everything about you. 15 minutes was barely enough time with his best girl, so he needed to stop playing like he had all the time in the world and get down to brass tax.

Not letting go of your leg, he swiftly sinks down to his knees, throwing your thigh onto his sturdy broad shoulder. He looks up at you through his long lashes, his blues swirling into a cacophony of love drunk ecstasy. "I know we don't have much time, but I wanna taste you. I need to have my tongue buried in your sweet pussy. Want your taste to linger on my palette to get me through the rest of the ceremony." He slurred hot and heavy.

You didn't even have time to respond before you looked down to Austin dragging your panties down your legs and pocketing them in his bolero jacket, repositing your leg over his shoulder. All you can do is mewl in response at his request. If it's one thing you love about Austin, besides his heart of gold, is his heavenly mouth that can bring you countless crippling earthshattering orgasms with a flick of his masterful tongue. Yeah, you needed this just as badly as he did.

In a flash, he let his tongue escape past his lips and lick one long broad determined stripe through your folds. You shuttered and squealed, immediately carding your hard through Austin's golden tendrils.

At first he explored you like the more he licked away at your pussy he would soon strike gold - the treasure of a lifetime. Your slick coated his tongue and lips, making it the easiest thing for him to slurp you up. By your own volition, your hips arched off the wall and started slowly rocking your pussy into his facial hair covered face.

He moaned against your wetness, his long tongue parting your folds with every deliberate swipe and lick.

"Fuck, Austin." You moaned breathlessly. His freehand dug into your waist, helping you along in humping his face as he buried his strong, wet muscle against your pussy. Dragging the tip of his tongue along your slit, he made his way up to your aching swollen clit. Giving your little bundle of nerves all the attention he could muster, he impressed upon you the swiftest and sloppiest flicks of his tongue as fast as he could manage.

He groaned against you, your arousal seeping into his mouth as he delivers an onslaught of licks and flicks of his tongue against your clit that leaves you shaking and clinging to his hair even harder.

"Oh yes! Just like that, baby, please." You scream, not caring who walks by and hears Austin going down on you. He devours your pussy like a man who's starving. As if he didn't just eat one of the fanciest meals of his life in the company of fellow high profile celebrity elites. But you're his favorite meal, by far.

The noises his mouth is making as he messily and eagerly slurps you up is borderline pornographic. He loves to make you wetter than a waterfall, and he savors the taste of your divine juices like they were tailor-made just for him. He could eat your pussy for hours, licking you until you go dumb with only the most base of urges left residing in your brain. And if tonight was a normal night, he would have you cum by his mouth. But the clock was against you both. He knew he didn't have the time to allocate to getting you to your first orgasm on his tongue, but he for damn sure knew he cock would do the job.

Parting from your clit, he swipes more fast and broad strokes of his tongue through your folds, sloppily, obscenely moaning deeply against your sopping cunt. You throw your head back and grind faster on his face.

"Mm. Aus, I-I need...I want to cum on your cock. Now." You moan desperately, savoring in the last few final salacious flicks of his tongue on your pussy before he pulls away from your core completely.

When he rises to his feet, he looks positively fucked out on your pussy. Noticing that his beard is fully drenched in your slick, making the hairs turn a darker blonde, you feel a wave of arousal drip down your thighs.

Austin captured your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss, one where you could taste yourself on his lips as he molded his mouth into yours. Still holding onto your one leg, his free hand gathers up the fabric of your red dress hastily, moving it out of his way to free up your other leg. He lightly smacks the back of your thigh, indicating that he wants you to jump up into his arms.

Taking his nonverbal que, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and wrap your other leg around his waist. He pulls away from your mouth with a wet pop, grunting hoarsely as he cradles you fully in his arms, pushing your back up against the wall with brute strength.

Time is of the essence, there's no dillydallying here. With you in the perfect position, Austin lets go of one of your legs and unzips his pants, pulling them down just enough to spring his leaking cock free from his trousers. Taking his erection in hand, he smears his pre-cum oozing from his puffy, red tip over your slippery folds, making you both sigh lustfully as you stare into each other's eyes.

He swallows the remnants of your juices in his mouth and pants. "You ready for me, baby?" He asks, still just as polite and taking into account your comfort even in the heat of the moment.

You nod your head. "Yes, please Austin. Don't make me wait for your cock anymore." You purr, nuzzling your nose against his.

That was all he needed to hear. No longer did those words leave your red lips that he aligned the tip of his cock with your weeping entrance, and slowly pushed through your constricting walls.

The guttural groan that erupted from Austin's throat made you even wetter, and inadvertently clenched around his hard cock at the same time, making him shiver. Feeling him inch his way through your wetness, filling you up to the brim made you want to scream out in pleasure. "Holy shit, Austin." You moaned high and raspy.

He bit his lip and whimpered. Now that he was all the way seated deep inside your pussy, he adjusted his hold on your body, gripping your hips with both his large hands.

Austin withdrew, leaving just the tip lingering inside you. And with full force, he snapped his hips in one fluid motion and his cock fully entered you again, causing you to groan at the feeling of being stretched yet again.

In a frenzy, Austin went to work on slamming his cock in an out of your wet pussy. Over and over his cock pushed deeper through your walls, somehow brushing against all of those hard to reach spots that no other man has ever managed to hit before you met Austin. The curve of his cock was just the perfect fit with your pussy - like it was designed for you.

Austin buried his head in the crook of your neck, fucking you into sweet oblivion. "So goddamn tight for me, baby." He moaned, his breath hot against your neck.

The sounds of your combined noises of love making and the slapping of skin on skin with the sloshing of your pussy juices echoed off of the expensive fur coats and barren wooden walls. Nothing else mattered except for the feeling of Austin's engorged cock getting heavy by the second as he plunged further and harder into your soft heat.

Your breasts jiggled through the neckline of your dress, the thin traps already fallen off your shoulders as Austin fucks his way through your pussy and straight to your soul. He grunts, and you writhe against him, at his mercy and unable to bounce yourself back down on his cock. He's in control, and you let him steer the ship.

The longer he massages his cock along your g-spot, leaving bruises on your cervix, your pussy aids him in slipping in and out of you at an easier and faster rate than ever before. Pretty soon, you're literally dripping onto the floor. In the back of your mind you hope you don't make a mess on Austin's expensive italian leather boots. You just know that by the sounds of it that he's absolutely murdering your pussy right now.

Your walls flutter around him and stroke his cock in such a way that has him buckling already. He can tell by the ramping up of your high pitched moans and your pussy clamping down on his cock that you're nearing the finish line. And you know he's close as well just by how his hips stutter as he sloppily fucks through your slick heat blanketing him from all angles.

It amazes you genuinely how quick he can get you there, but you feel your orgasm threaten to ripple through your body. But you don't want to cum solo. It's gonna be your mission to make him cum with you. This is afterall his special night, and you want him to revel in the moment of falling off the precipice into heavenly bliss with his woman before winning his award. You were already set on your finishing move.

As you pant and whine into Austin's ear, one of your hands yanks his head back perhaps a little too roughly. His face peels away from your neck, and you can see he's sweating bullets. The look in his eyes reads that he's nearing the most sensational orgasm he's had in a while. And you were gonna help him achieve that.

With your best sex kitten voice, you breath through his ragged thrusts as you look into Austin's baby blues. "I want you to fill me up with your cum. Make your load drip down my thighs in front of everybody. Mark me as yours." You pant needily, on the edge of the proverbial cliff just seconds away from diving head first into your orgasm.

This was enough to set Austin careening over the edge. His eyes widened, his brows knitted in concentration as he slammed you down onto his cock, groaning out loudly as he nears his climax.

"Fucking hell, i'm gonna..." He warned loudly, his lips ghosting yours.

"Me too." You muttered helplessly.

And with a few final hard, messy, juicy thrusts you both moan in pleasure at the same time. You feel Austin's cock throb hard inside of you, his cum spurting out in thick globs painting your walls. Just like you wanted, you have every single inch of your pussy drenched in his cum. And while he's shaking uncontrollably, moaning your name as he cums, your walls milks his orgasm so good that he's nearing on the brink of insanity. Your slick gushes out around him, earning you all of his gruff and sexy mewls of fantastic serenity pouring out of Austin's mouth one after the other.

"Goddamn, that's what im talking about, baby. Oh yes." He purrs thickly, letting his lips lazily graze yours in a barely there kiss. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your pussy, and his thrusts come to an eventual halt.

You breathlessly smile against his mouth. "That was everything."

Austin hums in agreement. You whine from the loss of him when he pulls out, his cock lobbing back heavy against his stomach. Gingerly, he places you back down on the ground as you unfurl your legs from his waist. You're wobbly on your heels and you clutch onto his strong forearms for support.

Once he see's your okay to stand as normal, he tucks his cock still coated in your combined orgasms back into his pants. That's a mess he'll deal with later. Plus, he'd rather know that he can have a physical reminder of you on both his cock and his tongue when he sits back down at the table.

After quickly adjusting your dress and your hair back to look somewhat presentable without a mirror present to double check you look okay, you lean up on your tiptoes to place one last tender kiss on Austin's lips. Luckily any lipstick that did transfer on his face isn't there anymore. So he's safe, and no one is still the wiser.

Austin sighs. "I think our 15 minutes in heaven is up." He laughs. "C'mon, let's get back out there."

Linking hands once again, you make sure to look both ways down the hall to check that the coast was clear before you both strolled back into the dining hall as if nothing happened.

And to no ones surprise, Austin swept the competition that night by securing the first of many well deserved awards. When he went up on stage to collect his trophy, he never once looked away from you - the girl that managed to capture his heart, mind, soul, and body. As he thanked you innocently on stage, he licked his lips. A gesture that to everyone else is seemingly normal, nothing to raise concerns over. But to you and him, it brought back vivid flashbacks to those 15 glorious minutes spent with him in that coat closet.

This was absolutely a night that you two would never forget.

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kitashousewife · 2 years

Text

winding down

an: this is purely self indulgent but i hope you all love it

pairings: timeskip!sakusa x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, school stress, pet names, lowercase intentional

the glow of your laptop against your skin makes you realize how long you’ve been here.

hours of school work, getting you what feels like nowhere at all. the cursor blinks once, twice, three times before you close your tabs and shut your laptop.

it’s time you call it a night.

the autumn sun left hours ago, the warm glow on the walls long gone, now replaced by the cool light of the moon.

you stand slowly, stretching as you begin to move around. the house is quiet, except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant stream of the shower, telling you sakusa is still awake. your eyes close for a moment, allowing yourself a deep breath in and out. it was a long day, but now you can finally begin to wind down.

shutting off the light in the living room, you shuffle towards the front door, locking it with a firm click. you begin the first steps of your routine, starting the dishwasher which sakusa loaded earlier, and wiping down the counters slowly. each swipe of the cloth brings you a little more peace than the last.

turning off the lights in the kitchen, you make your way through the bedroom door. a sleepy smile reaches your lips as you notice your husband has already set out pajamas for you, right on top of your pillow.

as soon as you walk into your shared bathroom, the shower turns off. normally, you would tell sakusa to take as long as you want! but tonight, you deserve a long shower.

reaching for a clean towel, you grab two, and turn around to hand your husband one. he places a kiss on your forehead, and you giggle at the drops of water that fall from his dark hair.

“kiyoomi,” you groan in fake annoyance.

“what? im just speeding up the process, pretty.”

the steam from the previous shower fills your lungs, and with an exhale you let every bad part of the day go. as you go through your shower, sakusa asks you the regular night time questions.

“did you lock the door?”

“did you start the dishwasher?”

“did you remember to plug in your computer?”

every question is answered with a “yes, baby,” by the time you step out of the shower. the bathroom is empty, but not for long. dressed in pajamas of his own, your husband walks towards the vanity to grab his toothbrush. he steps to the side, allowing you room to begin your skin routine.

“you were doing homework for a while,” he asks, the tone of his voice letting you know his concern.

“i didn’t even realize,” you sigh, reaching for your moisturizer. “i’m glad i stopped when i did though.”

he spits in the sink and places his toothbrush back in the holder. raising an eyebrow, he turns to you.

“how come?”

“i got to catch you right out of the shower.”

sakusa rolls his eyes and exits the bathroom quickly in an attempt to hide his pink cheeks, but it doesn’t work.

putting your own tooth brush away, you turn off the last light of the night and walk towards the bed. after putting on your pajamas, you climb into bed and let out a sigh of relief. you plug in your phone and turn to sakusa. phone in hand, scrolling through his team chat, with a very annoyed look on his face.

“anything good today?” you mumble, eyes half open and body feeling just a little bit heavier.

“no, as usual. i don’t get why we have this stupid chat anyway,” he gripes, locking his phone and placing it on his nightstand. before he can set it down, your eyes shoot open.

“wait, your alarm! tomorrow is wednesday, you have early practice.”

he nods and grabs his phone once more. setting his alarm quickly, he puts his phone down and turns to you. pulling you close, sakusa feels much better.

he doesn’t say it out loud, but his embrace tells you how much he missed you tonight.

“hey,” he breathes, softly to not disturb you. you hum.

“i’m really proud of you, you know.” pulling away slightly, you look up at him, at least what you can see in the dark.

“what makes you say that?”

he turns his head to yawn. “you’ve been working so hard this week.”

“it’s only tuesday,” you giggle, running your fingers through his damp hair, before tucking a curl behind his ear.

“so? im proud of you. you work so hard.”

your heart swells. this week has been so busy, and you’ve felt like you can’t keep up. due dates are piling up, readings are becoming harder to keep track of.

“i love you, kiyoomi.” you kiss him, and like always, his lips fit right into yours.

“i love you too.”

as your eyes close, the steady rhythm of his heart is the perfect song to lull you to sleep. sakusa feels relieved. every few minutes tonight, he would look over at you, seated close to him as he studied different film in preparation for this weekend. every time he checked on you, your brows were furrowed, eyes moving quickly as you scan whatever was on your screen. sometimes he would catch you writing something down, or crossing something off of your list. but, as the game he watched ended, you were still working away. he assumed you would stop as soon as you saw him start the dishes, but you didn’t.

he felt a sense of relief when he heard the beginnings of the dishwasher, telling him that he would see you soon.

as your breathing steadies, sakusa feels himself drifting off. he pulls you a little tighter. he knows he isn’t good with words, but he is always trying to make sure you know how proud he is of you.

#sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #hq fuff #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #sakusa oneshot #sakusa imagine #haikyuu fluff

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hunterssm00n · 5 months

Text

Sleepwalking

Yandere! Sheriff OC / part 3 /

Try to lock you out / I feel you in my dreams / You're everywhere, you won't go easily...

*cw include stalking, yandere behavior, abuse of authority, obsession, and dark themes* MDNI - 18+

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

It’s just past ten when she hears the crunching of tires on the ice and gravel coming up her driveway.

She’s laying in her bed, lights off, looking at her phone, when she feels the hair on the back of her neck raise. He’s earlier tonight than usual; normally it’s after eleven or even after midnight before she hears those familiar noises. She’s also in bed earlier than normal tonight, but that’s because she’s super exhausted after a long, grueling week. Tomorrow is Friday, and by the time that fifth day of work rolls around she’s lucky to get up to the sound of her alarm the next morning.

It makes her wonder if he came here earlier than normal tonight with the hopes of catching her while she was awake.

That thought gives her shivers.

And what would happen if he did? If he saw the lights on in her home, would he take that as an invitation to come and knock on the door? Would he try to call her, like he has been? Leave her another very loving sounding, emotionally charged voicemail?

Kelli has played the last few over and over again. She has them all saved in her phone- for multiple reasons. One being that if this situation ever turned deadly, she would have plenty of evidence to build a case against him. The other reason being that she enjoys listening to his voice as he says such soft, loving things to her, and about her.

So what does that make her? As crazy as him? Surely not.

Ray is a handsome man. Maybe not handsome in the traditional sense, but in the way that he’s exactly her type. Well over six feet tall, big and burly, rugged and intimidating looking, a scar on his cheek; physically he’s very appealing to her. And behind the rough exterior, he’s got sky blue eyes that just seem so deep; so knowing.

Am I attracted to my stalker? Maybe. Hard maybe. But does that make what he’s doing in any way right? No. Absolutely not.

He’s abusing his authority as sheriff to look up Kelli’s address (as she definitely did not give it to him), come to her house, and stake out every night. When he calls, he’s begged her to call him back; he wants to hear her voice, he says. He wants to reassure her that he means no harm.

But can she trust him?

He hasn't done anything to make Kelli think that he intends to do her any harm... yet. In fact, it's been quite the opposite; he's done everything possible to make sure she’s safe. Or... to make sure she’s not going to run. He parks outside of her house every night- god only knows if he ever even sleeps. And every hour on the hour he gets out of his suburban, and walks the perimeter of the house, shining his flashlight and, seemingly, looking for any signs of trouble.

And here she thought she was paranoid. Her paranoia apparently doesn't hold a candle to this man's.

But in a way, this overprotectiveness makes her feel... something. She can't quite put her finger on the thought, or the emotion exactly. But it's surprising. And, of course, he doesn't need to know this.

And despite the fact that what he’s doing is wrong, it doesn’t make him any less appealing to her twisted brain. Quite the opposite. She should be scared; she should want to move states, go into WitSec, something that would get her away from him. But there’s no denying (to herself, at least) that she purposefully is not doing any of that for a reason. Plus, he would find her wherever she went. He’d track her down, just like he’d tracked her to her house.

Kelli can’t help but think about what he would do if he were inside right now- she imagined the scenario; how he would look standing in her doorway, how his big body would take up so much space it would make her house look tiny. The thought makes her shiver unintentionally, but not for bad reasons.

He would stare straight into her soul as she sat up in bed, surprised at his entry into her bedroom, and into her house in general. Wondering how he got inside, but also wondering what was going to happen now that he was.

“Ray?” she would ask, her voice coming out breathless and nervous- as she wouldn’t be expecting him to actually be inside the house, here, with her. At night, in her bedroom.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” He would sound breathless, like he’d been running. Or, doing something else. “I couldn’t- I had to come see you. I had to make sure…”

Her other questions would be forgotten momentarily as he would advance towards the bed, and she wouldn’t even realize she’d shrank backwards until she hit the headboard, and it thumped against the wall.

“It’s okay,” He’d pause in his movements, hands outstretched to show that he’s okay, she’s okay, everything is okay. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m so sorry for scaring you, and- and for breaking in here.” He would look down at the floor after he says this, and she would be able to practically sense the shame coming from him. Practically be able to feel it. “I know it’s not right, what I'm doing- I know I shouldn't be here... But I can’t help it. I want you- I need you.”

The thought of this scenario makes her pussy pulse between her thighs, and it’s then that she realizes how wet she is. And not for the first time when thinking about him, either.

She hears his footsteps outside, gentle in the freshly fallen snow, and before she can think better of it Kelli slides her right hand down her stomach, and into the waistband of her pajama pants. Her fingers slide down the front of her underwear, down, down, until they get to the soft, warm area right above her clit. They pause there for the barest moment before continuing their journey, passing over her clit and to her wet panties, soaked by her pussy lips. A choked moan catches in her throat- surprised by how wet she already is and by how good that simple touch feels.

Working her hand back and forth slowly, she listens to the sound of him walking around her house, his footsteps almost adding to her steadily increasing heartbeat. It feels good- too good. It should not feel this good touching herself to the thought of her stalker breaking into her house; to the sound of him walking around outside. Knowing he’s there, feeling his presence, it’s too much.

Before long she's cumming by merely touching herself through her panties, her other hand covering her mouth so she doesn't make any discernable sounds as the pleasure crashes through her. All the while thinking This is wrong, this is so wrong.

Coming down from her high, she relaxes back against the bed, breathing hard against the comfort of her soft mattress. Still hearing him outside of the house, she decides to chalk this one up to having not been in a relationship for a while; being untouched for so long. Because the fact that she just touched herself to the thought of her stalker is a little too much to come to terms with, at the moment.

♡˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ♡

This is an original work of mine, as are the characters.

I do not own the song 'Sleepwalking' by Diamante. The above picture is from pinterest, and there's a link attached to the original post.

#soft yandere #my drabbles #my work #my writing #mine**#yandere sheriff #yandere cop #hunterssm00n #yande.re #yandere oc #stalker oc #stalker aesthetic #stalker cop #stalker sheriff #obsessive love

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sixosix · 1 year

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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐃𝐈 𝐍𝐀 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐈

( ? ) or those sweet moments as they slowly go bitter

( # ) fluff, THEN angst, everything is good before they get worse. satoru is bad at feelings! unhealthy relationship. LISTEN TO di na muli - the itchyworms while reading for plus points

( ! ) this is so vague lmao not sure if its canon compliant bc its been so long since i watched this anime, but i hope it still makes sense 😁

“i think blue suits you really, really well.”

you smother a grin with your arm as he towers over you, hands on either side of your head while he scrutinizes the loose shirt you stole from his closet. the way he looks at you, eyes so soft and sincere, makes your face warm—and it’s not from how he’s hovering so close.

with a light laugh, you push his face away with your free hand, “you’re only saying that because it’s the same shade as your eyes, you sap.”

“i never denied it,” he coos, holding the hand against his cheek to press a tender kiss on it. it’s enough to make you melt against the sheets, skin buzzing with the aftermath.

“ugh,” you tell him, because you know that he knows exactly how to make you flustered.

tender moments like these are rare, given how busy he is as a sorcerer and you with your work life. it’s only different today because he seemed to have been in a pretty good mood—enough to come over unannounced to your home.

“i could marry you right now,” he murmurs, and you almost didn’t hear him; perhaps he meant to keep it from you, and your heart flutters at the fact that satoru’s thinking of you that way.

your relationship with satoru is complicated, simply because the both of you are too hesitant to call each other something along the lines of ‘lovers’. it should fit, the way you two do, but it doesn’t seem right when you barely see him at all.

maybe it’s normal for couples. you could always ask him some other day.

for now, you let him lie down next to you and listen to how his heart beats.

on the way home from tedious hours of work, you pass by a street bustling with stalls selling various snacks and sweets that you keep buying as your wallet deflates faster than a balloon poked by a needle.

you snap pictures of all that you’ve brought, and satoru tells you that you don’t need to bribe him with sweets just to get him to come over, followed by other disgusting cheesy lines about how you’re sweet enough.

you pocket your phone and smile to yourself, smug.

the knocks on the door a few hours later work better than any alarm you’ve scheduled on your phone. with a skip to your step, you swing the door open and welcome him with outstretched arms.

before you can even get a word in, he peppers your face with kisses, cutting you off whenever you open your mouth. he laughs at your scrunched nose and breathes out, “hi.”

“satoru,” you kiss him again, your heart on your sleeve.

as the hours pass, the sweets are finally devoured and empty, and you’re a bit sleepy from the rush of seeing satoru again slowly leaving you.

the evening is slow like this, always with him snuggled comfortably against your side, eyes fluttering shut. you card your fingers through his hair, and a smile lights up his face.

“you say i don’t have to bribe you with sweets but you sure came running to me earlier,” you muse, almost absentmindedly. it doesn’t bother you; you’re just happy he’s here when he rarely is.

“no, i tel—ran here because i saw you’re wearing my shirt again,” he says. he peeks one eye open and smirks.

you glance down and belatedly realize you have, in fact, put on his shirt. maybe it's out of instinct because you missed him.

“right, of course, that’s been my secret plan all along.”

“you minx!”

maybe he just likes that you’re easy.

the thought comes out of nowhere while you’re at work, your phone lit up beside your keyboard, empty of notifications.

it’s stupid you even consider it. you shake your head, batting it off your mind.

(but the uneasy feeling never goes away.)

on some days like this one, you never hear from satoru at all.

you excused it before because you know that a sorcerer’s life is dangerous, even though you only heard him explain something about seeing something normal humans can’t.

is it because you aren’t special enough like him? is it because you don’t deserve someone as perfect as him, and he’s realizing it, too?

your eyes strain in the dark as your thumbs hover over the keyboard, almost glaring at the ‘satoru <3’ name and the messages last sent days ago.

is it really more important than what we have? you almost type, and the guilt eats you right up as tears prick your eyes and burn them in retort.

he’s only ever introduced you briefly to one friend, shoko, from a hazy night where you both are still drunk off love at first sight. he saw you from across the street and whisked you off with some annoying charm.

she was looking at you as if she pities you.

you didn’t like how she looked at you like that, because you love satoru with all your being, and you wouldn’t ever think of it as a bad thing. you never wanted to involve yourself with his friends because you didn’t want to be pitied.

but when you realize you don’t know him at all despite giving your everything to him, you get it. when you shut your phone and breathe in the cold, the spot next to you empty, you get it.

you wear his shirt. you weren’t expecting anything anymore, but the hope still stays; it’s more out of desperation.

then he comes knocking at your door, eyes heavy and dark. the storm doesn’t die down—it roars, pours, and pours, but satoru stays dry.

untouched.

“w-what—” you try to speak, almost embarrassed to be caught donning his shirt when neither of you has planned it. it makes you feel so pathetic, especially when remembering this is the first you’ve ever seen him after weeks.

“y/n, i—” his throat bobs, blue meeting the blue wrapped around your body; he looks away. “we need to talk.”

ah.

this is where your heart drops further down as if he’s come to shatter the glass you’ve been holding onto for you and him.

“don’t say it, please,” you plead, almost tumbling backward. “you don’t have the right to say anything to me when i haven’t heard from you for—where have you even been, satoru?”

“i’m sorry—”

“i don’t want an apology from you anymore,” you snap and lose a little of yourself when you watch his face falter.

to his credit, he does look guilty. but apparently not guilty enough for him to just get it over with and tell you who—or what he actually is. because right now, he seems like he was never even yours.

“…too much happened, sweetheart, and i know that—that i can’t keep making that excuse,” he adds hastily when your eyes flare. “it’s why i came here.”

this is the part where you realize that maybe you’ve done something wrong. maybe you haven’t tried to make yourself important enough for him to break down his walls for you.

this is the part where he tells you that he’s sorry. that it’s not you, it’s him. he will say it like a stranger, and he will mean it to make you feel like one, too.

you almost laugh at the nerve.

“i was going to say yes if you asked,” you tell him instead before he can begin, stepping closer as you watch in sick satisfaction when he almost trips to step back.

“say yes to what…?”

your fingers twitch where it’s gripping the edge of the door. “get out, gojo.”

satoru frowns, eyes round and pleading. urgently: “say yes to what, y/n?”

you bite your lip and turn away, trembling from the wave of emotions finally coming. “do you mean… if…” he looks horrified now, as if it was only after you said, he’s regretting pulling away.

“y/n—”

you slam the door in front of his face.

(this is normal, you tell yourself. this is what happens when you fall in love, right?

he’ll come back again.

it’s normal, and a part of you—selfish, desperate—wishes he would take it all back so you could open your arms for him and let it happen over again.)

the fic title is ‘never again’. and yeah reader meant saying yes to the proposal.

#606:JJK #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst

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gurugirl · 2 years

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Tales From the Modern Incubus Part II

Summary: The first time you see Harry is while you're at church and you're completely smitten with him at first sight, but what will your boyfriend think about the tall, tattooed man who is suddenly so interested in you?

A/N: Now that you (the reader) have been introduced to the story there will a slight perspective change and you'll note that in Part I you were referred to as she and her - but now going forward you will be referred to as you and y/n. This one is a bit more tame than what's to come but it's important to the story. Please read all warnings listed in the TFMI masterlist before continuing - this is dark!harry content and it's not for everyone. There could be triggering topics so please consider that before reading.

Warning: dark!harry, Harry making fun of Christianity, Harry making fun of a worship band, Harry making fun of the Sunday teaching, vulgar inner thoughts by Harry

Part I*

Part II

The following morning you wake earlier than Harry assumed you would. Your cell phone chiming with John Meyers’s Clarity as your alarm. Harry moves himself from under the bed into the open, still unseen to your eyes and stands over you. You are stretching sweetly with the smallest squeak at the very end before you reach for your phone and turn off the music.

Harry really loves your morning scent. You’ve been snuggling into your sheets and blankets, and a pillow full of your hair and skin cells so the aroma is extra you. Plus you didn’t wash yourself after masturbating, other than some tissues to wipe up, and all the remnants of your dried arousal are still lingering in the air, permeating from between your legs.

His gifted olfactory sense is something he both loves and loathes. Right now, he loves it. You smell so good, so delectable. When you finally stand up from the bed he follows you closely and watches everything you do. Most of your morning tasks include finding a cute outfit, showering and shaving (which of course he masturbated watching your wet, supple body, couldn’t be helped), putting on more makeup than Harry thinks is necessary, and doing your hair.

Harry watched everything you did like a true creepy stalker. He was enjoying the little noises you’d make when you had an idea or began murmuring to yourself. He found it endearing when you tried on two dresses twice each and then couldn’t decide on which shoes you wanted to wear. He knew it was Sunday morning and based on the way you were reading your Bible and praying the night before he could bet you and your family were getting ready for church.

He was a little surprised that you had selected the shorter dress, and he didn’t miss the way you took extra care when fixing your makeup and hair. You looked quite appetizing. Harry wanted to nibble on the back of your thighs and your hips so badly it made his teeth hurt. But if he wanted a bite, that meant others would too and he wondered if that was why you chose your outfit and fussed so long with your hair. Maybe you were trying to impress someone. Or he supposes it could be as simple as you just preferring the shorter dress. But you? A good Christian girl dressing this way? Nah… you were looking for some kind of attention. You wanted to look cute. This was deliberate.

If there’s anything Harry is good at (and he’s good at a lot of things) it’s human behavior. Not only can he smell your mood he can tell a lot by just a few minutes of watching your body language. And he knows you’re trying to look extra cute.

He follows you as you head into the living room and you greet your parents good morning. Harry is immediately aware of how self-assured your dad is and how he’s dressed very sharply. He’s pacing around and looking at a notepad and Harry notes that it’s quite early for a normal family to be heading to church so now he’s suspicious of your dad and what’s really going on here. He takes a peek at what’s on the notepad and it's a fucking sermon.

Your dad is a pastor. You’re a pastor’s daughter. Harry laughs to himself. Of course, he selects a pastor’s daughter for his mistress. This will be an entertaining courtship.

He follows your family to the church (he can travel like the wind, being a fallen angel and all) and the parking lot is empty. You and your family are the first to arrive.

Harry keeps close to you but now he has a plan to appear to you when some of the congregation arrive. He’ll pretend to be new to town and he’ll wear something he thinks you’ll like. He has a feeling you’ll find him very attractive.

You sit quietly in one of the rooms by yourself, looking through your phone. Harry looks over your shoulder to see what it is that you are using to keep yourself entertained. Instagram (you have a lot of notifications that you ignore), YouTube, Twitter… Then you get a text message, and he reads it when you open it up.

It’s from MIG.

See you soon, babe!

He doesn’t know who MIG is but he doesn’t like that the photo attached to his contacts appears to be male and he just called you babe. Perhaps this is why you dressed cute. For MIG.

Harry sniffs into your hair and basically hovers over you until you get up to leave the room you were sat in, breaking Harry’s spell of breathing you in. He could eat you up, you smell so good.

As the church building is starting to fill with other people you are kind and say your hellos to everyone but then there’s a tall young fellow who you walk to in haste and wrap your arms around his middle.

“Hey! Wanna go sit?” You speak and gesture toward the large main room where your dad will be preaching.

Harry watches with a scowl as you and this guy, probably MIG, hold hands and walk into the room together and find a spot to sit toward the front. Harry decides now is a good time to get himself ready to appear. He takes note of the rest of the churchgoers and sees that most of the humans are casual but some are dressed nice. He decides to go with something nice and that will draw your attention, because he’s going to get your attention. He covers his bottom half in dark blue, well fitted trousers, that really show off how fit he is, thick, muscular thighs, a well-toned bum, long legs, with black leather boots on his feet. His top half has a white button-up shirt, leaving the top three buttons undone to show off his tattoos (he thinks you’ll like that), sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms adorned with more tattoos, and he tops it all off with a white gold cross necklace that dangles over his pecs. He runs his fingers through his hair for good measure and then sits directly in front of you and MIG. He puts an arm out along the bench behind him and sits casually with a leg draped over his knee. He looks around the room and he’s already got eyes on him.

He’s quite the specimen really. Tall, fit and broad, dark thick curls in a nice neat quaff that always comes out just right, perfectly chiseled and symmetric facial features, a prominent nose that sits on his face and just adds to how attractive he is. Harry didn’t want to dress too wildly, his tastes are a little more eccentric than he’s dressed now but he doesn’t want to get the wrong kind of attention. Some people think he’s gay based on his attire – which doesn’t bother him because he is a little gay, sure, but in a crowd like this? Probably not wise. So he’s plays it safe with his choice of covering.

Two young women sit to Harry’s left and one of them leans over to shake his hand, “I’m Sarah. Is this your first time here?” Sarah’s cute. Big blue eyes, freckles, strawberry blond hair. If he hadn’t become so obsessed with you he might work on Sarah for a quick lay tonight.

“M’Harry,” he shakes Sarah’s hand, “and yes. This is my first time. New in town.” Harry gives Sarah a dazzling smile and he can hear her heart rate increase and she releases a scent that indicates she’s excited by him. Typical.

“You sound like you’re new in town. Where are you from, Harry?” She’s referring to his accent. Harry’s got a strange accent. He spent many many years in Europe and picked up a good British accent for when he’s speaking English (he can speak any language spoken to him - same for all other angels and demons as well) but it’s lined with some other inflections that create a mishmash of what most humans think of as just British. And with his deep, raspy tone it really just rounds off his total appeal.

“The UK, originally. I’ve traveled a bit, though.” He lies. Sort of. He’s not from the UK but he’s definitely traveled.

Sarah comments about this revelation but then the other girl leans over and reaches out a hand to introduce herself. She calls herself Amanda and Harry greets her just as warmly as he did Sarah. Amanda is also excited by Harry’s presence. Harry laughs to himself. These church girls have no idea, and Harry enjoys the irony.

He’s still focused on the female behind, though. You. He can tell you’re paying attention to what’s happening with Sarah and Amanda. He’s going to ignore it for now, though. If you don’t introduce yourself he’ll have to do it at some point. But like we’ve already gone over, Harry really likes it when he’s approached and sought out. He wants you to want him. But he’ll swallow his pride if he has to. He thinks it’ll be worth it if he must.

When your dad takes the podium, the congregation quiets down. Harry sighs and shifts in his seat, putting his arm out on the opposite side now, so he’s got his arm along the back bench behind Sarah.

You dad’s sermon is boring. Harry could preach it himself. He could probably do a better job too. The prayer is long and boring. The worship time with music and a small, quite terrible band, is awful and he feels like throwing up a few times. It’s all a useless show. No one is listening. The Almighty doesn’t fucking care that all these people are dancing and singing to him. He doesn’t care when a few people want to come up to pray for various things that Harry wants to laugh about.

God isn’t here in this congregation, despite what your dad is telling everyone. He’s just not. He’s busy looking after his own interests, and even if the Bible (fake shit) says that humanity is his interest, it’s not. Humanity was a mistake and then God just decided to let his mistake fester rather than do anything about and by the time he realized what a mess humanity was, it was too late. So he just couldn’t be bothered to kill everyone off and start over again. He just didn’t care enough to right his wrongs. That’s how little The Almighty cares.

Harry does turn to take a look at you while the god-awful band is playing and you’re singing with a palm up in the air and it makes Harry cringe. What a waste of everyone’s time this is. He feels bad that you’re here enduring this, taking in the lies and the garbage. It’s all made-up.

When the severely-under-talented band leaves the stage (thank god) your dad begins to speak. He leads another prayer and Harry notices that while this drawn-out prayer is going on, Sarah scoots just a tiny bit closer to him and now her jeans-covered knee is so close to his own that he can feel her warmth. Harry’s not surprised one bit. Harry knows she’s not a virgin. In fact, Sarah has had sex recently. Not last night, but pretty recently. She’s no stranger to sex. She would deny it, of course, but Harry knows her type.

After an hour and a half of enduring what Harry finds to be the true definition of hell, everyone finally starts to get up and chat before leaving. Harry gets up and begins to turn away when Sarah taps on his arm.

He turns to look down at her and she’s cute with a little bit of a flushed face, “Uh, would you want to go to lunch with us? It’s gonna be me, Amanda, Miguel and Y/N.” She gestures toward you and Harry turns to look at you. Y/N. He could have found out your name earlier but it wasn’t that important. But now that he knows your name, he thinks it fits you perfectly.

You already have your eyes on him and when you see the light green eyes of the stranger on you there’s a sudden wave of heat that travels over your shoulders and down your ribcage. You noticed him as soon as he walked in front of you and sat down. You could smell his clean, masculine cologne or soap. He was tall and he had some tattoos. He seemed very sure, confident as he took his seat and the way he sat with his arm along the back bench behind Sarah you saw his various tattoos.

You were confused by this feeling. It was obvious the man was gorgeous, but whatever happened to your body and your nervous system the moment you locked eyes with him wasn’t just you reacting to looking at an attractive man. In fact, the wave of heat scared you at first. It almost felt like a creature that landed on your back, right at your shoulders and then melted downward.

Harry put his hand out to you and greeted you with that odd British accent, “I’m Harry.” You grabbed his hand and continued staring into his eyes. He didn’t release your hand for a bit of time that was longer than would have been considered normal but your cool skin was basking in the touch of his hot skin on yours. Something was happening and it wasn’t making any sense.

Just like the way your silky arousal felt like magic on his cock last night, your palm in his feels like the eyes of eternity smiling on him. Your whole being seemed to have been like a magnet that drew Harry in and he could tell you were going through something as well.

Your heart rate increased, your sweat glands released something like stress and fear but then it ebbed with excitement. You were very attracted to the tall, dark man. Immediately you were drawn to him.

You released your hand from him, from Harry. He wore rings on his fingers and he had a cross necklace hung on his neck, the cross nuzzled between a peek of what seemed a well defined chest with dark tattoos scattered on the flesh, some dark hair scattered over the skin to indicate an adult man, blood pumping with testosterone and life, experience.

Miguel cleared his throat when he was concerned that you and this Harry guy had just stood staring at one another, Harry not bothering to greet your boyfriend.

You turned to Miguel and held onto his arm before finally responding verbally to Harry, “I’m, Y/N.” You smiled politely but needed to reel it in a bit. Harry’s voice, and appearance and gaze had you in a bit of a daze. And somehow you felt like he was familiar, a kindred spirit perhaps. But you couldn’t pinpoint why.

You all went to the small diner a couple of miles away. Harry rode in the backseat of Miguel’s car, with you in the front passenger seat. He couldn’t take his eyes off you and Miguel realized he’d need to stake his claim on you before Harry got any ideas.

The Dixie Diner was your go-to because it was cheap and they had the best lemon cream shake. it was made with lemon sorbet, a tiny bit of vanilla ice cream and angel food cake chunks. You could live on them. And on Sundays, the heavenly concoction was only $1.

Harry sat next to you when you slid into the booth, Miguel on your other side. Miguel was getting furious about Harry's audacity and Miguel was also a bit intimidated by the tall man with tattoos who still had not once looked in his direction, nor greeted him properly as he had done with you.

Everyone ordered their food, you getting your lemon cream shake and a plate of french fries as usual. You didn't have much money to spend on meals out as a college student with no job and a dad who was a pastor of a church. Money wasn't something you ever had a lot of.

Harry noted your terribly imbalanced meal. He ordered himself a veggie and cheese omelet and juice with a side of fruit. He leaned toward you and, turning his face to your ear and spoke, "Would you like some of my omelet? Or fruit? French fries and a shake won't be enough for you, Y/N."

You turned to look at him in confusion. You didn't understand his concern but when you looked at him, the softness of his eyes and the way his face was so gentle, you felt you should take him up on the offer of some fruit. Perhaps you would need a little more, something healthier. It took a moment before you could respond, lost in his eyes once again.

"O... okay. Yeah. Some fruit would be good. Thank you, Harry."

Harry quickly scooped some of his fruit onto your place, making sure to keep the salty, greasy french fries away from the fresh fruit chunks. Miguel sighed and rolled his eyes. What was this man playing at? Trying to get his girlfriend to eat healthier?

"You know... she's quite healthy as it is. I'm sure she doesn't really need your fruit to round out her diet. Not that it wasn't a nice gesture but I just think she'll be fine." Miguel laughs as he speaks.

Harry slowly chews at his omelet and leans over the table to get a peek at MIG and he scoffs before speaking, "You might be right. She probably doesn't need my fruit to round out her diet. But she wanted it didn't she? And if she wants it, well, why would I not give it to her?"

The last sentence, Harry looked right at you as he spoke and you were already looking at him in awe. The way his pink lips curved around the words he spoke, his deep tone reverberating in your ear, and then when he looked at you when he said something that was totally innocent, but seemed to hold much more meaning had you nearly wetting your panties.

Harry inwardly patted himself on the back. You were into him and he knew you were. He could tell you were slowly become more and more aroused by him. Harry stretched his arm out along the back of the booth behind you and leaned in to speak to you again quietly, "I'm glad you like my fruit. It's good for you, isn't it? You like it?"

You were reeling from the implications. He hadn't really said anything that salacious but the way he said it was making you feel a bit excited and curious. You bit your lip and turned to him to answer quietly, "It is good. It was nice of you to offer it."

Harry smiled and licked his lips as he looked down at you. He could smell you. You were turned on. You weren't quite dripping for him but you were secreting arousal and he was ready to take you into the bathroom and lick you clean, make you squirt into his mouth, feel your fingers in his hair.

You noticed the way he looked at you, how he smelled so masculine and it made you feel dizzy. His entire persona was drawing you in. You'd never ever once considered looking at anyone other than Miguel since you'd been with him. But Harry? You were interested in him, in his story. You were attracted to him, more than you were attracted to Miguel, which gave you a small pang of guilt.

The rest of the lunch everyone talked about their weekend, what they'd done, who they saw... Harry was quiet. He was focused on you. He kept finding wisps of your hair with his fingers and he'd pull very very gently. You kept giggling and looking up at him, knowing what he was doing. He just gave you a smirk, and he'd raise his brows at you and then look back toward whoever was talking. You really liked Harry. The more he tugged at your hair and looked down at you, and the smell of him, how close he was sat. You had to swallow back your thoughts that were progressively become dirtier and dirtier.

When everyone was getting up to leave Miguel spoke directly to Harry, "I'm just gonna take Y/N home so I don't think you should ride back with us. Sarah? Can you take Harry back to his car?"

You were shocked by Miguel, but also understood his hesitance. He'd noted how you and Harry were behaving together and he was probably a little jealous, which made sense. He should be jealous. You were slowly coating your panties with your own arousal at the small little gestures Harry kept making and the way he was looking at you and speaking to you.

"Miguel, we can drop him back a the church. Don't be rude." You pulled on his arm and made him look down at you. Miguel squinted. He didn't like Harry one bit and he didn't like how you couldn't tell what this mysterious man was trying to do to you (but the reality was that you could tell what Harry was doing and you liked it).

With some grumbling and relenting, Miguel drove Harry back to the church parking lot. Harry got out of the car and waved to you both as Miguel quickly drove off. Harry wasn't concerned, though. He would be following you around anyway. He'd be wherever you were. He'd find out everything there was to find out about you. And he would certainly be in your bedroom tonight in hopes of seeing you masturbate again. Perhaps he could assist. Maybe he'd even wake you up with cunnilingus and have you believe it was a dream. He knew you'd like to get your kitty licked by him and he really wanted another taste. He could smell you getting progressively more and more aroused throughout lunch.

So, Harry sat in your room with you and boring Miguel as you listened to some god-awful Christian rock music and suffered through watching Miguel try and make a move with you. He tried kissing you but you pushed him away, chuckling and smiling.

"You know I'm not ready." You sighed. You had never even been kissed before and Harry found this outstanding. A complete shock. Why had you never even been kissed? Harry needed to change this and quick. He wanted to pump his come inside of you and get you pregnant soon and yet, here you were, an innocent virgin who'd never even been kissed?

This was going to be more difficult than he'd bargained for but he was always up for a good challenge.

Part III*

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equallyloyalandlethal · 3 months

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omg pls I wanna know more about the blind Theo fic 👀

You Might Not Like Him is the title I'm testing out

The blaring ringing of an alarm that’s distinctly not his has Theo blinking himself awake. He stretches an arm out, easily finding his phone on the nightstand, and presses both volume buttons. There is a two-second delay, same as always, and then: “6:30 AM,” says a mechanical voice as he drops it back onto the table.

Beyond the obnoxiously thin wall, the alarm suddenly shuts off. It’s got to be Liam’s, despite being earlier than it normally would be. He’s not going to dwell on the fact that it could possibly be weird that he knows his neighbor's schedule. It’s not. He scrubs a hand over the lower half of his face, gentling the touch as he nears his eyes, skipping over the raised, still-sensitive skin between his left eye and nose entirely. Their walls are thin, not built for some whose hearing is better than most, and Liam’s alarms are loud as shit. Most everything about the idiot next door is loud, despite the fact that he lives alone.

Beside him, Chi huffs and shifts, chasing a surprised Oof! out of him as she drops her head onto his abdomen.

“Fine, fine. I’m up,” he grunts in return, shoving the weight of her skull and neck off his bladder.

He doesn’t rush going through his morning routine. Far from it. There’s enough time to get everything done and done right without cutting corners or going fast enough to make a mistake. Liam’s never quick in the mornings. Or he has yet to be in the couple of months since Theo had moved in next door. Even mostly sightless, he knows the guy’s least favorite time of day is morning, especially early ones, which this clearly is. If the thought of his neighbor’s sleepy voice makes him smile a little, well, that’s between Theo and his mirror.

Chi’s excited whine, distant like she’s perched in the doorway between the bedroom and hall, pulls him around, his smile widening. The thought that maybe she understands what he’s doing crosses his mind, after all she seems smart enough for it most days. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. Regardless, she eggs him on through getting dressed with little pleading sounds every time he dares to stop moving even for a second. He only gets a little frustrated at it when he’s holding a shirt in either hand, feeling the bottom buttons of the work shirt he swapped out ages ago — square for blue, triangle for black, hexagon for red, and circle for white — and the one he’d sewn into the t-shirt himself.

“Gimme a minute!” he hisses at her when she whines again, head turning towards her even though with how dim the apartment is he can’t see even her vague outline.

He’s not usually short with her, even when she’s excited like this, but his gut is twisting around in ways that make him debate running to the bathroom. There’s no reason to put this much thought into it. Grab a shirt and go. All he’s doing is taking Chi out. The only thing that’s off about this is that he’s doing it now rather than later, when the sun’s actually risen and he has any shot at seeing the fuzzy shapes of people or cars, as he normally does. He’s almost kicking himself over it, left hand falling away from the button down to rub uneasily over the thick scar down his chest. There’s a reason he’s doing, just not one that will stand up to any real scrutiny.

Maybe he could conceive of conceding that it’s a little strange to know Liam’s schedule. Maybe. But, at the same time, it had been one of the most regular, regimented things in his chaos-ridden life for two months. Eight straight weeks of the standard iPhone alarm tone going off at 8:15am every single morning, followed by another at 8:30am. Every day. But, this last week, it had been anything but, changing daily in unpredictable ways. That alone wouldn’t have bothered him. Work was work, and he hasn’t quite figured out all that being a docent entails, or which institution he works at. If he could see, maybe he would have figured it out by now, since most places had logos that were at least semi-identifiable.

His face twists as he rubs at his chest again, fingertips kneading the stiff scar tissue.

#theo raeken #teen wolf #ao3 #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fandom #liam dunbarxtheo raeken #blind theo au #you might not like him fic #ymnlh

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itshoneywhatever · 6 months

Note

Change of plans 👀

This is my second lestappen fic, it includes secret relationship, a pregnancy and in the future a few announcements 👀

Here’s a sneak peek:

Change of Plans — Lestappen — ABO with Mpreg

After days of feeling incredibly nauseous, Charles finally wakes up just in time to throw up everything he had been able to tolerate the day before.

He can no longer deny what these symptoms are telling him.

Once he is done emptying his stomach on the toilet bowl, he moves back to his bed to lay down and rest for a bit. He has enough sense to text Andrea a simple ‘I need your help’ and what he needs him to do. They are in Abu Dhabi for the last race of the 2023 Formula 1 season, and he has been ignoring for days, weeks even, a few symptoms that by themselves don’t really amount to anything out of the ordinary but when added up together… well. And he can’t ignore the sickness. Not when it’s the most well known symptom.

He’s dozing off back to sleep when his hotel room’s door is open and a frantic looking Andrea comes in, holding a plastic bag.

“Care to tell me why you had me buy a pregnancy test at 9 in the morning in a foreign country?”

“Did you get it?” He asks, getting out of bed quickly to try and grab the bag from the other omega but he holds it back, out of Charles’ reach.

“Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell!”

Andrea gives him an extremely pointed look, as if to say I have pregnancy tests in my possession and I bought them because you asked me to, so clearly there’s something to tell.

Charles sighs. “Andrea, please.”

Andrea stares at him for a few more seconds, until he decides to give the younger man a break. “I bought four different brands, just to be safe.” He hands over the bag, and Charles grabs it, throwing a quick grazie over his shoulder as he makes his way into the bathroom.

Once he’s done, Charles doesn’t want to wait inside the bathroom for the results to show up, instead he puts a timer on his phone and steps outside, Andrea still standing where he left him.

“So?”

“No results yet.”

“Are you willing to talk now?” Charles simply nods. “What makes you think you’re pregnant?”

Out of all the questions he knows Andrea wants to ask, he didn’t think he would start there, but Charles recognizes it as the olive branch that it is and he gladly takes it. So he calmly explains every single symptom he has been feeling for the past few weeks, how he is more tired than he normally would be by the end of the season, how certain exercise lead to some mild cramping in his lower abdomen, how some food he usually like now smell unappealing to him, the nausea that started earlier in the weeks and how now he had woken up throwing up.

Whatever else Andrea wanted to ask at that moment gets cut off by the sound of Charles’ alarm, alerting them that five minutes have already passed and all the tests should reveal an answer.

“Are you ready?”

Charles isn’t ready, not one bit, but he has to know.

—

Let me know your thoughts!! 💞

#answering asks #anon #lestappen #my fic #change of plans #abo dynamics #mpreg

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chelseeebe · 2 years

Text

angel. | part 2 to two time.

summary: you and steve have been in this situationship for too long now. is it worth ruining what you've got for the sake of an official relationship? read two time (part one). oh my actual fuck, i normally despise reading back anything i've written but i can't stop re-reading this. it's a part two to two time but really could be read on it's own :) i also imagined readers room as my first year uni halls and i know it's different in america but it just would not work lol

fratboy!steve makes me crazy, idk what it is

your head is leaning in your hand, ever so slowly your eyes droop and it becomes too heavy to hold up.

‘hey! don’t you fall asleep on me now,’ steve bangs his palm on the table, jolting you awake.

‘steveee.. it’s..,’ you tap your phone screen, ‘three am! please can we just finish in the morning, i’m so tired,’ you pout, you were helping him finish his project. which, by the way, he had only started at six the night before. it was due at eleven the next morning.

‘do you want me to fail? i’ll have to move back home and then you’ll never ever see me again,’ he crosses his arms and tilts his head, just like a little puppy dog.

‘maybe you should’ve started earlier instead of partying so much, hmm?’ you imitate him, crossing your arms across your chest and tilting your head in the opposite direction.

‘well if someone wasn’t so obsessed with me, always begging me to hang out, then maybe i would’ve started earlier,’ he shrugs. lying through his teeth, he could’ve had a year to get this done and he still would’ve been sat here hours before the deadline.

‘hey, i would never beg you, i’m better than that,’ you wink at him. his golden eyes creasing into a smile, all you had to do was call and he was already halfway to your dorm. hell, he virtually lived there.

‘how much have you got left?’ you lean over and glance at his papers, to be absolutely fair to the boy, he was a pro at cramming.

‘i still need to finish the conclusion and sort out my references, but i need you to help me with that,’ try as he might, he had still never figured out how to academically reference his sources. meaning the task always fell on you.

‘okay.. so if i set an alarm for.. say seven, that gives you enough time to finish your conclusion and me enough time to do all your referencing, sound good?’ you pout again, this time extending your bottom lip out further. you knew that’d convince him.

he sighs but his smile is evident, ‘fine, but i’m setting the alarm, i know what you’re like,’ he stands up gathering the collection of papers spread across the desk and places them inside his bag.

‘yay!’ you stand up, grabbing your bag from the floor.

‘if i fail, you will pay,’ he saunters up behind you.

‘oooh no i’m sooo scared, whatever will i do!’ you sarcastically quip back with a giggle.

‘right, i’ve had enough of your lip,’ and with that he grabs your waist, lifting your body up and over his shoulder, smacking your ass rather hard.

you respond with a shriek, the other students late-night studying roll their eyes. you’d both been distracting them all night, relieved that you were finally leaving.

he carries you in this position all the way back to your room across campus. dropping you onto your bed with a suspicious sounding crack.

‘you fucking idiot, you broke my bed!’ you roll off of said bed and strip down to your underwear, reaching for one of steve’s extra large t-shirts.

‘well, we both knew that was gonna happen one day, honestly surprised it’s not happened sooner,’ he chuckles, peeling off his sweater.

the sight still made you bite your lip, he was seriously sexy and you’d never get over it.

‘and technically, it was your body that broke the bed, i just put you down,’ he holds his hands up in innocence.

‘threw me down, but okay babe,’ you climb into the bed, moving over to leave space for him. he follows you, pulling the duvet over you both.

you roll over onto your front, slinging your leg over his as his arm wraps across your back.

‘yeah, yeah.. goodnight,’ he plants a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you in closer to him.

‘alarm?’

‘shit,’ he groans, reaching for his phone, rushing to set the alarm.

‘and you didn’t trust me to do it,’ you scoff, your hand resting on his chest.

‘fuck off, go to sleep,’ he sets his phone down, finding your waist once again. you can’t help but smile at the boy.

you wake up to the blaring sound of steve’s phone alarm. your groggy groan vibrates on his chest.

‘shit, i’ve still got so much to do,’ his arms holding you tighter. you loved his morning voice, it was so gruff and husky. it honestly just reminded you of when he fucked the shit out of you on those early mornings you both had classes, his voice still deep with sleep.

‘get up now, before i fall back asleep and you won’t be able to move,’ you move your leg off of him, he shudders slightly as your thigh brushes over his semi-erect cock.

you’d give anything to just mount him and ride his cock until you were crying out. but, you knew he genuinely could not fail this class, or he’d lose his scholarship and have to move all the way back across the country.

he kisses your lips as he gets out of the bed, your hands wrap around his neck instinctively, kissing him with pure lust, keeping him bent down over you.

‘don’t do this to me,’ he mumbles, internally deciding if fucking you into the mattress right this moment was worth the fail.

you let go, a smirk plastered across your face, ‘sorry, go and finish and i’ll be here.’

he collapses into your desk chair with a sigh, pulling the papers out of his bag and spreading them across your already messy desk.

not only did he have to finish this project, he now had to do it a raging boner and with you lying there in his shirt, only 2 feet away.

‘you bitch, i thought you were menna help me?’ you were already dropping back off to sleep.

‘oh, i am, just give me five minutes and i’ll be there..’ you mumble, sleep already preoccupying your mind.

he lets you sleep, god knows he'd pay for it later when you were moody and quite frankly mean to him.

he reaches for his phone, opening up snapchat and facing his phone towards your sleeping body. the blanket pulled up to your chin, messy hair framing your face.

it was one of the few times he got to see you so peaceful and quiet.

'sleeping beauty' he captions it, debating whether to post the picture and piss you off or to keep it for his own collection of candid pics of you. he settles for posting it to his private story.

it was now nine, and he was now bored of doing this on his own, watching you sleep peacefully next to him. he leans over and shakes your shoulder lightly, 'wakey wakey, time to get your ass up.'

'no,' you grumble, 'five more minutes mom,' your eyes open to peer over at him, a smile erupting on your face.

'i'm okay with daddy, but mom is just fucking weird,' he's gripping onto your hand, trying to pull you out of your duvet cave. you chuckle at his words, gripping onto the bed as to not slip out.

'i'm bored and i need your help, so get up,' he juts out his bottom lip and softens his eyes, how could you say no?

'you woke me up because you were bored? err you're such a simp,' you stand up, pulling his oversized shirt down over your thighs.

'only for you,' he grabs your waist, pulling you into his chest, 'anyway, can you do my references pleaseee,' you sit down onto his knee and glimpse at the stack of papers on your desk.

'sweet, are you all finished then?' you grab his pen and grab the scribbled list of books he'd used.

'all done, just need you to do this and then i can go and hand it in,' he presses his cheek to your back, arms wrapped around your waist. you'd probably jump off of a cliff if he asked like this.

you sit and copy out his list, just much neater and in the correct format. you'd taught him to always make you a list with the information you needed so you could rearrange it and make it presentable for him.

you finish and tuck the sheets of paper at the bottom of the pile, standing up off of his lap.

'it's half ten, get changed and run,' you walk to your en-suite, wetting your toothbrush, 'oh and sort out that disgusting morning breath.'

he follows you into the bathroom, copying your actions on his own toothbrush, he'd bought it especially for your room.

you spit the minty foam into the sink just as steve gags as he brushes back teeth, 'pussy,' replacing the toothbrush to its rightful place.

he spits, 'just because you don't gag, whore,' putting his toothbrush back right next to yours, smacking your bare ass as you exit the bathroom.

'you're gonna be late, and then you'll fail and then you'll never get to bully me again,' you smirk, holding his sweater out to him.

he takes it from your hand, pulling it over his head, 'i'm going, i'm going!' slipping on his jeans and shoving the papers into his bag.

you pout your lips, making a kissing sound.

he plants a kiss to your lips and practically sprints out of the door.

'steve, you need to hurry the fuck up,' you brush out your curls with your fingers, bouncing them around your shoulders.

you look into his oddly stained mirror, readjusting the white feathery wings on your back.

'i'm ready.. i was just admiring how fucking good you look,' you spin around to face him, a shy smile creeps to your face. he's complimented you countless times but it still made you blush every single time.

'well thank you darling,' you siddle over to his position on the edge of bed, resting your hands on his shoulders, he places his hands on your hips and looks up.

you could hear the party already thumping downstairs, steve had so very kindly offered to host your birthday party at his frat house. you were hesitant and first, knowing exactly how they usually ended up.

you had practically forced him to wear the corresponding devil costume to your angel outfit.

'it'll be so cute, and it's so accurate,' you pleaded, picking up the red horns. you could've convinced him to wear anything in that white mini skirt, soft thighs adorned with white fishnets.

'mmm,' his hands slide down to your half-exposed behind, tongue peaking out the side of his lips.

'they'll be waiting for us,' squeezing his shoulders.

'i know.. before we go, i've been thinking..' his fingers pressing into your rear.

'oh no, that's never a good thing,' your hands run through the back of his hair, not wanting to mess it up too much.

'shut up, no- i was thinking about you actually,' he smiles at the thought.

'right.. go on,' he was either about to ruin the incredible thing you had going on or was about to gain a girlfriend.

'well, you basically are already but.. d'ya wanna be my girlfriend?' his grip tightens, pulling you in closer to his chest.

you beam down at him, 'jeez, i thought you'd never ask,' kissing his smile with such passion it causes his body to rock back.

'well thank fuck for that,' he murmurs into the kiss.

'y'know i'd never say no to you,' you smirk, had he genuinely believed you'd turn him down? not a chance.

'we actually do have to go now, it being my birthday n'all,' you pull away from him, grabbing his hand from your ass cheek and yanking him to the door.

'sorry, sorry, my boyfriend takes too long to get ready,' your friends squeal as you and steve approach them. the pair of you were basically already married for christ's sake, but they were still just as delighted to hear he'd officially asked you.

the party boomed on, you and steve had lost each other to your respective group of friends. the alcohol beginning to make you slightly, very tipsy.

nelly's 'hot in herre' blared out of the speaker, the music causing your hips to move all on their own, your hands tracing up your body seductively.

steve meets your eye from across the room, adjusting his position on the couch to see you better.

'i wanna take my clothes off,' you mouth over to him, biting on your bottom lip.

'fellas, i'll see you later, yeah?' he slaps his buddy on the back as he walks over to you. their gaze following him, rolling their eyes and laughing when they realised why he ran off.

he's essentially dragging you up the stairs, your feet tripping over each other on the way up.

not wanting to wait any longer to rip those filthy fishnets off of you.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington #fratboy!steve harrington #modern!au #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington fic

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majestyjun · 1 year

Note

well god damn the hybrid boom in ur acc 😳 also WOW taehyun has a lot of kitties i-

unnnhhh yeah and i haven't gotten over kitty's obsession w whipped cream hehe

SO GET THIS kitty sneaking out of the nest just hours before taehyun has to go to work but ☝ on this rare day taehyun wakes up earlier than his alarm bc let's be real his sleep schedule is all messed up

u don't notice tho bc he has his back turned away from u, so when u finally open fridge to get that sweet sweet can of whipped cream, u quickly get a huge mouthful and hurried back to the nest as if nothing happened.

taehyun's wide awake atp cuz he could hear u open the door, open the fridge door and then the sound of the can like he's just staring into space like ( ͡°_ʖ ͡°) really?

he does nothing tho and waits a few more minutes scrolling on his phone all the while u continue to cat nap, until his alarm sets off and he pretends to do his morning routine.

like clockwork, u crawl out of his room when he sets up the table for breakfast, and u rlly think u got away w it cuz everything seems to be normal, until u squirt some whipped cream on ur pancakes.

u found it odd how he has nothing on his pancakes so when u asked him if he wants some he.. just... grabs ur chin, placed his lips on urs and makes out w u (〃∀〃)

he pulls away all like no thanks, my kitty already tastes like whipped cream AAAKGHHDHXS!!!!

-🐱

oMG the audacity >/////< need to write smth asap

the quiet creeping across the floor, the creak of his door as you tiptoe through, tail swishing side to side with excitement. honestly, taehyun thinks, he needs to stop buying whipped cream. sitting up in his bed, reaching for his phone. 4:26. it’s too early for this. the quiet jingle of the fridge, the excited squeak as you locate the can. a familiar sound of whipped cream, fluffy and fresh out of the can, before the fridge closes again. sliding back into his sheets, taehyun closes his eyes, feigning sleep as you creep back inside towards his closet, licking white clouds off your lips with satisfaction. once you’ve reshuffled your sheets in your nest a bit, the small purr of comfort telling him you’ve gone to sleep. you didn’t even bother to brush your teeth. well, he has a workout at 5, and you won’t be up until you hear the sound of the stove and smell food. no point in going back to sleep now.

a series of sets and stretches in his miniature at home gym, a sufficient sweat and wake up routine, followed by some important work he has to get out of the way before you nag him for attention all day, and some light cleaning (messy cat!). and only by 9 does taehyun start actually cooking breakfast (he had a shake earlier, but he always makes the night before to not interrupt your sleep), perfectly round pancakes on the pan, golden brown crest and a small rise. slicing fruits even though he knows you really only like the whipped cream on your pancakes. like clockwork, you sleepily wander from his room, rubbing your eyes and ears twitching at the sound of the stove. “ ‘m hungry.” “one minute.” “ ‘kay.”

the contrast is almost amusing; your pancakes buried in a snowy mountain of whipped cream, sloppy swirl prone to a potential avalanche if you add anymore, while his are bare, popping a blueberry into his lips as he observes you, your ears twitching and tail wagging with excitement. it would have been worse if there were sprinkles, but you ran out recently. a shame. “thank you for the meal~” you mewl happily, spoon at the ready, before you notice he hasn’t put anything on his pancakes, not even holding a utensil. “taehyun, don’t you want any whipped cre—mmph!” snatching your chin and pressing an insistent kiss to your lips, tongue pushing past and meeting hours, sweet saliva coating the wet muscle. squeaking in surprise, about to delight in the sudden, heated kiss before he lets go, completely unfazed. “no thanks, my kitty already tastes like whipped cream.”

proceeds to eat his plain pancakes like nothing happened n his kitty being flustered n confused, eating a mountain of cream n ears twitching with anticipation for him to do it again~~ but he doesn’t LOL

#taehyun’s kitty #mille.inbox #mille.anon #taehyunnie <3 #🐱 anon

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ellssbellss · 2 years

Text

pairing- Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is.

Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

-> word count: 4.8k

-> summary: Kyoya gives you a once over. You’re going to be the death of him.

see masterlist! : masterlist

Starting Today, You are a Host! pt. 1

A (h/c) haired girl walks quickly through the halls of Ouran Academy. You check the time, and your uniform sways with your movements as you increase your pace down the pristine halls of your high school.

Not unusually, you were late.

You had characteristically overslept this morning, earning you an urgent call from one of your best friends, Kyoya Ootori. Kyoya was also not a morning person, but on school mornings he had a set routine, and making sure you woke up on time to get to school had begrudgingly become a part of it. Because you were both a part of the same club, Kyoya had to make sure you would show up on time. If a member was late, the entire operation was unbalanced until they started their shift. Also, Kyoya had a short patience for lateness.

You were particularly grateful for his call this morning. As nice as it was to hear the voice of someone so special to you, you had completely forgotten your arrangement with Chairman Suoh, which required you to be at school earlier than normal.

You had rushed around your room, respectfully declining the maids and butlers attempting to assist you with your daily routine, knowing that it would be done faster if you did it yourself. You threw your hair together, then your makeup. It was minimal, but considering you usually didn’t put much on anyway, it was easy and quick for you to finish. Kyoya’s voice could still be heard in the background of your bathroom, where you had left him on speaker.

“I cannot believe you forgot (Y/n). Especially after Suoh-sensei sought you out himself.” You could practically feel the smirk after a disapproving sigh escaped him.

“Not helping.” You said as you reached for your bag and rushed out of the bedroom, only to return quickly to get your phone.

“I am very helpful. Without me, you definitely would’ve slept through every alarm you set.”

“Uh huh, I owe my life to you Kyo, thank you.” Rolling your eyes, you got in your car, needing to say goodbye so that you can drive.

Kyoya felt the eye-roll and heard the door to your car shut, signaling your need to leave.

“A favor will do just fine.” You cursed him in the back of your mind. That’s what I get for being friends with the Shadow King. Kyoya’s voice came back through the phone, “I assume you need to go?”

“Yes,” you sighed, setting your bag down into the passenger seat of your (d/c), “I have to drive away now if I’m ever going to have a chance at being on time. Thank you for looking out for me and waking me up, Kyo. It means a lot.”

On the other end, Kyoya fixed his glasses. “Of course, (Y/n), drive safe. Goodbye.”

“I will, see ya.” You hung up the phone and sped down the interstate.

Now, as you glance at the clock once more down the hallway, you’re nearly jogging when you stop to find a brown-haired student sitting outside of the Chairman’s office. When they look up, an imaginary light bulb sparks on when you see the eyes of the person you’ve been looking for.

“Are you Fujioka-san?” You ask, recognizing her from her profile the Chairman showed you, although her hair looks shorter than it did on the photo.

“Yes, I am! Are you (L/n)-senpai?” She stands up from her chair, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

“Yes! You can call me (Y/n), Fujioka-san, no need for honorifics. I’m from (C/n) so it’s still rather unfamiliar when people call me that.” You sheepishly laugh, a light blush on your face.

“Oh, wow! Your Japanese is really good, (Y/n). In that case, you can call me Haruhi.” She sticks out her hand for you to shake. “Isn’t this how most (n) people greet each other?”

You reach out and take it, smiling at the inclusion of your culture. “That’s perfect!” You let go of the handshake, turning to walk down the hallway.

“Thank you for showing me around the school, (Y/n). It’s so big here, it is completely different from the high school my old friends are attending. It’s such a relief to have a tour by a fellow honor student.”

You giggle at her as she nearly trips over her own feet from being distracted by the large chandeliers that hang above you. “Haha, yes, well that was the Chairman’s exact thought process when he asked me to lead you to your first class. Just to ensure that you would be comfortable! If you have any questions, you can definitely let me know.”

“Um, well there was this one question I was thinking about…”

“Sure thing! What is it?”

“I was just wondering how you were able to apply as an honor student to Ouran Academy? Aren’t you the heir to (L/n) Tech?”

You chuckled again, smiling at her. “I can see how that could be confusing.” You take a moment to collect your story, even though you’ve had to explain yourself many times before.

“I am the heir to my mother’s company, yes. But when my father told me that we were moving to Japan in order to expand our market, he reminded me that people may not respect me because of where I came from, in school, work, or otherwise.” Haruhi frowned at this. “I wanted to enter this new chapter in my life with a new confidence and a strong reputation. I knew that I was smarter than most– I’m sure you know what that’s like– and decided that if I was going to go to one of the best high schools in the academic world, I was going to earn it.”

“Did it work?” Haruhi asked, seemingly impressed with your determination. She noticed how beautiful you were when you talked passionately. Surely, I’m not the first to notice, Haruhi thought.

“For the most part, yeah!” You looked ahead, reminding yourself how proud you are to be where you are today, “People saw that I wasn’t just another rich person going to school to have a good time and live off of Mommy’s money. I was here to become successful and happy with the life that I was able to build myself. And, also, to have a good time.”

The two of you laugh together, after rounding a corner. Since you were able to share your story, you asked Haruhi about her own life. You were sad to hear that her mother died 10 years ago, but touched to hear that she wanted to become a lawyer just like her. You gasped at the comparisons she made between her old middle school and here, because even if you were independent, you were still a higher-class citizen, and thankfully never experienced the middle-school bathroom horrors she was retelling. You walked her down the hall to her first class, satisfied with your job of making her comfortable on her first day here.

“Thank you so much for showing me around, (Y/n)-senp-, uh, I mean, (Y/n).” Haruhi smiled at you again to show her gratitude.

“Of course! Here is my number if you ever need anything else. Sorry I have to leave you here so early before class starts because of my club, but maybe we could meet up for lunch? If you’re not already too popular by then.” You joke as you hand her one of your business cards your mom had made. You then wave at her and turn to leave, hurriedly preparing yourself to face the wrath of your friends for being late as you make your way to a certain music room.

:::

Haruhi was beginning to get frustrated as she looked at her watch, only having a certain amount of time to find a study room that was quiet enough to finish her Japanese literature essay. It had been a couple weeks since her first day, but she was still not at all familiar with the layout of this school. You had walked her everyday to her classes for the first week, but you had told that everywhere outside of your usual class schedule was an adventure in itself, and she would help you find them another time. Haruhi knew she didn’t wanna bother you during club hours, so she settled on trying to find a room herself.

She walked towards the last music room she would be searching for, because if this place was busy too, she would just give up and finish the essay at home, which made her even more stressed considering the work she had to get done.

Haruhi opened the doors, and was immediately swarmed with rose petals, confusing her on how the defied the laws of physics.

“Welcome!”

Willing her eyes to get used to the blinding light that emitted from the room, she took a step inside to see seven figures grouped in the center. Two ravenettes stood to the left, one with his back turned and the other with a black notebook in his hand. Two gingered twins stood to the right, hanging on one another with a mischievous smile on their faces that unsettled Haruhi to her core. A smaller blonde stood in front of them, with big gleaming brown eyes and a pink stuffed rabbit hanging from one of his arms. Then sitting in the center was a prince-like blonde, who was already looking at her in surprise. She was the one to gape when she saw you, standing even more to the left, near the one with the glasses.

“Haruhi?” You asked, but just as you took a step forward, the twins sauntered up to Haruhi before you got the chance. Oh god.

“Oh wow, its a boy!”

“Huh? No, act-” As you were about to correct them, Kyoya put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“What?” You said turning to him.

“Don’t say anything. I want to see how this plays out.”

You deadpan, “You’re kidding me.”

“Oh (Y/n), I’ve never been one for humor.”

Poor Haruhi, you think, but keep your mouth shut, secretly wondering the outcome as well.

“Hikaru. Kaoru. I believe this man is in the same class as you?” Kyoya turns back to your friends, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah but he doesn’t talk much-” Hikaru started.

“- we don’t really know much about him.” Kaoru finished.

“Well, that wasn't very polite. Welcome to the Ouran Host Club, Mr. Honor Student.” Kyoya says, taking a step forward and writing something down in his notebook.

Tamaki takes another step forward, but seemingly something clicks in his head. “What? You must be Haruhi Fujioka! You're the exceptional honor student we've heard about.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time.” You mutter under your breath, Kyoya smirking next to you.

“How did you know my name?” Haruhi asks, nervously taking a step back, clearly wanting to leave.

“You’re famous, Haruhi!” You say, finally speaking loud enough to where the others can hear you, “It’s not everyday a commoner like you gets into a school like this. You've shown the world that even a poor person can excel at an elite private academy.”

“It must be hard for you to constantly be looked down upon by others.” Tamaki pouts.

Haruhi frowns. “I think you're taking this poor thing too far.”

Tamaki rushes to Haruhi’s side, taking her hand, dramatic sympathy in his eyes. “Spurned! Neglected! But that doesn't matter now. We welcome you, poor man, to our world of beauty!”

Haruhi has become even more bewildered than when she walked in, trying to exit with a respectful, “I’m outta here.”

Just as she is trying to leave, the small blonde boy rushes over to her, stopping her slightly in front of a vase that you had always admired. He grabs her hand, and looks up at her with a beaming smile that melts the coldest of hearts.

“Hey! Come back here, Haru-chan! You must be like a superhero or something. That's so cool!” Honey-senpai smiles at her even more, dazzling at his new found discovery.

“I'm not a hero, I'm an honor student. And who are you calling Haru-chan?!”

Tamaki puts a finger to his chin, “I never would have imagined the famous scholar would be so openly gay.”

You put your head in your hands, “Oh my god.”

Tamaki strides over to Harhui, earning more sympathy from you as she backs up even more. He doesn’t give her personal space still, of course, and grabs her hand again, turning on his charm, “So tell me what kind of guys you're into. Do you like the strong silent type?” Tamaki gestures to Mori, who gives a slight nod. “The boy lolita?” Honey-senpai beams up at her once more. “How about the mischievous type?” Hikaru and Kaoru are still analyzing her with their eyes, and they give lazy salutes. “Or the cool type?” Kyoya gives her a flash of his glasses and a signature smirk.

Haruhi’s face contorts into a more horrified expression when she realizes that they are suggesting that she sought them out to flirt.

“I uh... I-It's not like that! I was just looking for a quiet place to study.” She backs up even more, not noticing the vase behind her.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, Tamaki-”.

Tamaki continues to walk towards her, charm seeping through him as roses seem to circle him, “Or maybe you're into a guy like me.” He poses, another step forward, “What do you say?”

A flustered Haruhi stutters and takes another hasty step back, knocking your favorite vase off its mount. Haruhi turns quickly and watches it begin to fall, hastily reaching out for it in desperation. Her hand nearly grazes the handle, but it slips through her fingers and falls to the floor.

Crash!

You and Haruhi both stare at the vase in mortified terror. You look over at Kyoya, who has lost the smirk and now sighs displeasingly at the words he writes into his notebook. You frown too, knowing how this is going to end.

The twins step forward to look down onto the broken porcelain, already knowing how to create another hell.

Kaoru tsks, shaking his head, “Oh, now you've done it, commoner. The bidding on that vase was supposed to start at eight million yen.”

Haruhi chokes on air, ”What, eight million yen? How many thousand yen is that? How many thousands are in eight million? I'm gonna have to pay you back.” She starts to count on as many fingers and toes as she can. The twins begin teasing her on how she couldn’t even afford a uniform, let alone 8 million yen.

You take pity on her, and in her trance, you lead her away from the broken glass in order to start cleaning it up. You were able to join the host club as an errand girl, cleaning and cooking and serving for the boys when they needed you. At the beginning, you had entered the Music Room looking for the host club because you needed an extracurricular that wasn’t a performing arts, since you had enough of those credits already. Plus, it put you in good standing with the chairman’s son and the third son of the Ootori’s, a family your mother deals with often, considering her development of medical technologies.

Kyoya later admitted to letting you join because you intrigued him with your ambition to prove yourself, something he could relate to in his own way. You didn’t know that you had also caught his attention in other forms as well. To be fair, he didn’t either.

You knelt down on your knees to begin picking up the largest pieces of glass, not bothering yourself with a broom due to the fact that it was in the closet across the room span, and you didn’t want anyone falling and cutting themselves immediately, considering how dense and clumsy the entire club was.

Kyoya turns to look at you, ignoring the chaos caused by the first year trio, now fully focused on the broken pieces in your delicate palm.

“(Y/n), we have a broom in the closet just over there, why are you picking those up with your bare hands? You’re going to cut yourself. Someone else can pick those up.” Kyoya walks over to you and stops in front of you.

You look up at him, smirking at his concern. “I just don’t want anyone to fall on these big pieces, so I’m picking them up right away. This is what you hired me to do Kyoya, I’ll get the broom in a minute.” You carefully place another big piece of porcelain, balancing it on top of the small pile in your hand, when you feel a shadow over you.

Mori has retrieved the broom for you, and holds it out for you to grab.

“Oh wow, thank you Mori-senpai!” You look away from your hand for a moment and shift your balance to reach out and grab the broom, scooching your knees forward slightly to get closer to Mori’s grip. As you move your knee, it glides over one of the pieces of glass, cutting into your skin.

“Ow!” You flinch, accidentally putting more weight on it, pressing the vase even further into your knee. Mori’s eyes widen and he goes to help you, but Kyoya is already beside you, grabbing onto your unoccupied hand and hoisting you up, pulling you close to him. The movement causes you to drop the pieces of vase you picked up previously, making them shatter into smaller shards.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” Kyoya turns you around to face him to find a blush on your cheeks and small tears forming from the initial pain.

“It’s my knee, I-ow.” You laugh wetly in disbelief at how quickly karma came to bite you in the ass, and you look down to see a trail of blood making its way down your calf. Kyoya follows your eye-line and tightens the muscles in his jaw. He grasps your hand again and leads you to the front door with the intention of finding a bathroom. The trio comes back into earshot as you pass.

“So boss, what should we do?” The twins ask, as Haruhi still freaks out.

Tamaki flourishes, a smug look imprinted on his face, “ There's a famous saying you may have heard, Fujioka. When in Rome, you should do as the Romans do. Since you have no money, you can pay with your body. That means, starting today, you're the host club's dog.”

You stall, whipping your head to Tamaki, causing Kyoya to pause as well.

“Tamaki, Haruhi can’t be the errand gi-boy, that’s my job.” You look at him with confusion in your eyes.

Tamaki turns to face you and sees the blood dripping down your knee. He rushes over to you

“(Y/N)! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU WHY ARE YOU HURT?! MON AMIII HOW COULD YOU?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You brush him off, feeling another tug from Kyoya, but you don’t budge, “you can’t just go giving my position away like that, Tamaki, what am I supposed to do now?”

Tamaki puts his chin back to his face, thinking as hard as he can. The twins look over to him, worried that he might sprain his brain.

After sometime, Tamaki shoots up, an accomplished look on his face.

“(Y/n) could become a host!”

The Music Room is quiet at first, but suddenly the hosts start crowding around you, minding your knee, and flood you with encouragement. A blush forms across your face at the thought of entertaining guests. Sure, it is definitely something you have wanted to try out, and you think that you could be good at it. You could be the “Sweet” type, or the “Beautiful” type, and you could definitely bring in more business, considering boys is a whole other audience to cater towards, and-

“Absolutely not.” Kyoya states, trying to pull you out once again to tend to your injury.

“What?” The hosts exclaim as you turn to look at your friend in disbelief.

“But Kyo-chan, (N/n)-chan is so cute! She would do such a great job!” Honey said, using his puppy dog eyes on the Shadow King.

“We can’t have two errand people-” Kaoru started.

“-but we can’t fire (Y/n) either.” Hikaru joined.

“I’ll think of some other way, no one is getting fired and debts will be paid. Right now, (Y/n) is bleeding and needs to be taken care of. She doesn’t need to be worried about entertaining crowds of men when she is the one that needs to be attended too. Excuse us, please.” Kyoya glares at the other hosts as they quickly make room, the aspect of a new opportunity for you making them space on the fact that you cut yourself just minutes ago.

You and Kyoya exit the music room, Kyoya still holding your hand as he leads you into the women’s bathroom. During your walk you try to study his back, searching for any expression, but it’s hard to do so without seeing his eyes. Kyoya always prides himself on the mask he puts on for his guests, and he is confident that his emotions are well hidden. They are, but anyone who is as close to him as you are fail to tell him that his eyes give him away at a moment's glance.

He walks into the women’s bathroom with you despite your protests, telling you sharply that the guests and students made their way back home, as it is after-school hours.

He leads you to the counter of the sink and asks you to jump up on it. You do so, and now you are facing him, trying to scan his face for any sign. Kyoya reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a mini first aid kit, something you knew he always carried around.

“For emergencies.” He said, holding it up and gesturing to your knee.

He opens the kit and finds the mini bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a small patch of gauze.

“Uh, Kyoya, is that really necessary?” You sweatdrop, not wanting to suffer anymore today.

“Yes, (Y/n), this is necessary so you don’t get an infection. Or would you like me to remind you that you cut yourself on broken pottery that sat in dust from the floor?” His tone was sharper than the tone he usually used with you. He was mad.

“Look Kyoya, I’m sorry about this, I know it’s inconvenient to take you out of club duties and everything.” Kyoya met his eyes with yours and then back to the task at hand, but in that flash you saw something akin to annoyance.

“It’s not inconvenient to take care of you, (Y/n), it’s inconvenient when you go against your better judgment to use a broom. I know you’re smarter than that.” He puts the liquid on the gauze. One of his hands holds the back of your calf, and after cleaning the blood that ran down your leg, making your cheeks a slight pink from the touch and the compliment he just gave you, he hovers it over your cut, moving the unoccupied hand to a respectful place on your outer thigh.

“It’s going to sting.” Kyoya said, prompting you to give him an oh really? I never would have guessed look.

“On three?” He asks, meeting your eyes again. This time the annoyance has mixed with concern.

“On three.” You say, moving a hand over his on your leg, preparing for the feeling.

Kyoya nods and counts. “One…” and on two there is a cold, sizzling, stinging feeling on your knee, making you gasp and tighten your grip on his hand. Kyoya shifts his hand to hold yours as he presses the gauze into your cut.

“You son of a bitch”, you say, trying to crack a smile through the discomfort. Kyoya watches you with a smirk of his own, and while the concern is still there, you find the annoyance has disappeared. He lifts the gauze much to your enjoyment, and goes to rummage through the med kit to find ointment and a band-aid, letting go of your hand.

“So what do you really think of me being a host?” You say, trying to gauge his reaction once more.

Kyoya gives you a side eye, his mouth drooping into something disapproving. You find yourself missing the smirk. “It’s unnecessary”, he says and he moves towards you again to put an antioxidant ointment on your cut, “Tamaki doesn’t know the numbers like I do, so he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“So, what, you’re going to be paying the salary for two errand people? A salary that I know we don’t have the budget for?” You ask, reaching over to grab the bandaid from the box and putting it on yourself so you feel like your helping.

“No, obviously not, that wouldn’t work.” Kyoya walks to the entrance of the bathroom with you, turning and waiting for you to adjust your skirt.

“Then I have to quit?” You say, walking up behind him, “I really like this club Kyoya, I-”

He turns around, and puts a hand on your shoulder, you two suddenly being very close, “You do not have to quit either, (Y/n), that’s never going to be a part of the solution. We all want you to stay.” He looks at you for a long enough moment to notice another shade of gray in his eye, then ducks his head and pulls out his book, opening it to a page and studying it, putting some space between you.

You blink and put on a soft smile, “Then just hear me out.”

Kyoya raises an eyebrow and looks at you, giving you his attention.

“If I were to be a host, I would be marketing towards a whole other demographic of students. Around 57% of the student population at Ouran Academy is male. Not saying that we have never had male guests, as we always support the LGBTQ+ community, but even they are a small recorded percentage. That’s nearly half of a market that we aren’t utilizing to our advantage. Think of the money that could go towards the host club, and the kind of budget you would have in order to grow this place,” you take another step towards him, “and I think that I could be really good at it. At the tea party tomorrow, just let me go for a trial run. If I fail, I fail, but if I succeed, then you need to seriously consider me as a permanent host. Deal?”

Kyoya gives you a once over. You’re going to be the death of him.

It has always been obvious to him that you wish that you were a host. You love being around them and helping the club in anyway that you can, and you always felt that being a host was the most influential position, meaning you could help the most. And he knows that you would be good at it. Damn good at it. You’re beautiful, kind, smart, talented, and incredibly out of their league, which would only make them want you more. You would have an audience of guests in no time, bringing in publicity and money that would almost rival Tamaki.

But Kyoya for some reason has always clenched his teeth at the thought of the boys that would get to surround you, have you flirt with them and whisper sweet nothings into their ears. They would buy you gifts and sweets, while you flashed them your signature smile. You wouldn’t be able to sit with him anymore due to your busy scheduling of clients. The image gives him a pit in his stomach.

He studies your face and realizes that for him to deny you with absolutely no reason other than a selfish one would be against something you stood for, and he was smart enough to know to always stand behind something you were passionate towards. You had even studied the stable numbers, something you knew he was appreciative of.

Kyoya sighs, “Okay. One session. We will advertise you as a new limited time host, and we will see how it goes from there. But you must teach Haruhi what you can so that he-she doesn’t do the wrong thing.” He looks down at your knee. “I suppose though, it doesn't matter how much training she gets.”

He looked back up to your face to see a shocked look. He waits for your reply, knitting his brows together.

“Did you hear what-oof!” Kyoya was cut off as you hugged him, thanking him repeatedly, clearly excited. He chuckles and wraps his arms around you for a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you exclaimed, pumping your fists in victory, and dancing with excitement while Kyoya looks at you with feigned annoyance.

“Please stop that, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Mmmmm…no.” You laugh, and continue celebrating.

#kyoya ootori #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader #ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #haruhi fujioka #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #honey senpai #mori senpai #x reader #romance #slow burn #mutual pining #fanfiction #ouran fanfic

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thetaleoflevi · 2 years

Text

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Just To Be Safe

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Pairing: Levi x Reader

Content: SFW, Modern AU

Content Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of death, Levi makes you his prisoner (jk, he just cares for you A LOT), dubcon kissing, I think that’s it..?

Word Count: Unknown (Written on Tumblr App)

Description: Reader wants to go out after work. Levi? Not so much. He’s exhausted, it’s late, and you both have a meeting in the morning. When you decide you still want to go out, even on your own, Levi prevents you from doing so in his own Levi way.

A/N: This sucks. Enjoy :)

⭐️Taglist: @urfilgoth @ackermandick

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The office was officially closed for the night. Levi was the last one in there, as always. He put the security alarm on, closing the door behind him, pulling and pushing it to see if the door was properly locked.

“We were swamped today, huh, Levi?”

Levi flinches slightly at the sound of your voice. He really thought he was alone. “I thought you left earlier.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I did leave earlier, but I came back for something and ended up waiting for you instead.”

“Why? You could’ve been home hours ago.” He pulls the key that had been sitting in the lock the entire time out and the lanyard hangs out of his pants pocket.

“Let’s go somewhere. Right now.”

“It’s eleven twenty-five. What could you possibly want to do at this time?”

“Get shitfaced?” You smile, your eyes pleading for him to say yes.

“No, thank you. We have to be here at seven in the morning tomorrow for that stupid meeting with Hange.”

“Come on! Don’t be lame, Levi. Should that be your new nickname? ‘Lame Levi’? Ooo, how about ‘Levi the Loser’? That one’s got a ring to it.” You chuckle, pulling out your car keys, seeing as though you won’t be convincing Levi to join you in your late night rendezvous.

“Neither. They’re both dumb, and tell me you’re not going drinking by yourself.”

“Maybeh, maybeh not,” you shrug. “Don’t worry about it. Goodnight, Levi!” You smile and wave before walking to your car.

He stands there for a second, waiting to see if you’re being serious. Your high beams turn on and Levi quickly pulls out his phone, sighing at your stubbornness.

Don’t go drinking by yourself. Come to my place. You can stay over or stay until you sober up.

He sends the message, looking up to see if you read it. You give him a thumbs up and start driving. He shakes his head and gets to his car, tailing you in a few seconds.

—

You stand next to Levi on his doorstep, waiting for him to open the door.

“I bet your house stinks,” you say, chuckling, playfully punching his arm.

He rolls his eyes, turning the key to open the door.

“I bet it’s cleaner than your shit hole of an apartment.”

“Ouch.” Your hand comes up to your heart, dramatically.

The door swings open, and Levi waits for you to enter, following you inside before shutting and locking the door.

“Wow, Ackerman. I stand corrected. Your house is beautiful.”

He taps your shoulder, signaling you to give him your coat.

“Beats my shit hole of an apartment by a long-shot.” The remark makes him somewhat tense, but you laugh to show that you’re just teasing him.

“So, what are the specials, Mr. Bartender.” You let your hair loose from the bun that progressively got messier and messier throughout the day.

He loosens his tie on his walk to the fridge. You take a peek and notice that it’s mainly empty. From your position, you can see a couple cases of fruit, some vegetables, water bottles, and a small gallon of milk.

“Wine.” His tone made it seem like there would be more options.

“And…?” You ask, leaning against the wall.

“Wine,” he repeats with more certainty.

“Oh. Just wine.” You chuckle, nervously.

“I don’t drink on a daily basis, and I normally don’t have overnight guests. Alcohol isn’t usually in my fridge unless it’s going to be finished on the same day.” His fingers tap on the top of the fridge door.

“What’s the wine doing there, then?” You ask, a dumb grin on your face.

“It wasn’t finished on the same day.” His expression makes you feel stupid. “So, is wine okay?”

“Uh, sure…” you say in a strained voice. You see him pull out the tall bottle. It looks expensive.

“You don’t sound or look too sure. What is it?” He shuts the fridge door, heading to the kitchen table.

“I don’t do too well with wine.” You stand behind the chair next to him.

He looks up at you with a confused expression. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, like he can’t believe what you haven’t even said yet.

“What do you mean? Does it make you sick after one glass or something?”

“No, I’m good on that end. I won’t barf, but I’ll either get really sleepy, or i’ll talk about really stupid things. I don’t know, you probably don’t want to deal with that. I should just go home.”

His hands settle on the table, centimeters away from the bottle with the red label. He looks like he’s done with everything and everyone, especially you.

“If you leave, I don’t want you heading over to some bar. I invited you here so that you would be safe.” His lips form an involuntary pout.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Levi.” You snicker. “I don’t want to waste your expensive looking wine. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I get home.” You turn to look for your coat, walking towards it when you find it.

You’re put to a halt, a warm grip on your forearm.

“Don’t be stupid.”

You look at his hand, his nails almost digging into your arm.

“Please, don’t.” His grip loosens, but his hand remains on your arm. You’ve never seen this look in his eyes. Concern beyond comprehension, protectiveness with little to no understanding for why. It feels like an unspoken bond. One that you won’t question. Not tonight, at least.

“You don’t have to drink the wine. We can go to a store and you can pick what you want. I just… I…” His thoughts became jumbled, and he struggled to say what he wanted you to hear.

“It’s fine, Levi. I don’t need it.” You slowly pull your arm away.

“Sorry,” he mutters when he realizes how crazy he must have looked holding onto you like that.

The bottle is forgotten and so are the bulbous glasses, as you both agree to just hang out on the couch.

The silence is deafening as you both sit there on his couch, not a word spoken. You look at him while he looks at a spot of dust on the coffee table sitting in the middle of the room.

“What’s wrong with you?” You finally manage to ask.

“What?” He says, looking at you. He heard you but just wanted to make sure he heard right.

“You heard me. Don’t ‘what’ me.”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” The look in his eyes brings goosebumps to your skin. It’s sharp, and it’s scary. You toughen up mentally as you ready your response.

“Don’t regurgitate my question. I asked you first.” You cross your arms irritatedly.

“Is it wrong for me to not want you to die? Anything can happen to a woman who goes out drinking on her own. I don’t know why I have to explain such a simple concept like this to you. You are a woman.”

“Oh, fuck off, Levi. You’re acting like an overprotective dad right now.”

“I’d rather be that than some asshole who just pretends to care about you. The last thing I want is to see you on the cover page of some news article when they find you dead somewhere because you wouldn’t fucking listen to me.”

You laugh sardonically, dropping any attempts at winning this argument.

“Well, you got what you wanted. I’m stranded here in your house.”

“Oh,” he says half amused at how idiotic you sound. “Don’t make it sound like you’re being held hostage. You can leave as long as you swear you won’t get shit faced by yourself at a bar.”

“There’s an ultimatum. You are holding me hostage,” you respond. You don’t say anything else, the resentment of his guardian-like attitude boiling in your gut. You try so hard to restrain yourself from cycling the argument again.

“So, what’s it gonna be then?”

You roll your eyes and sigh, annoyed. “I guess I’ll stay,” you mutter under your breath, inaudible to Levi.

“Hm? Didn’t catch that.”

“I’ll stay,” you repeat, a little louder this time.

“Sounds like a plan.”

You both sit there in silence, not knowing what to do after the quarrel. Your gaze remains on him as he continues to look at the spot of dust on the coffee table.

“You’re burning a hole into my forehead. Please stop,” he finally says after two minutes of just sitting there, speechless. You look away, and slowly lay yourself down on the couch. You curl up on your side seeing as though you have nothing else to say to Levi. The side of your face settles on the palm of your hand, your knees bent in a way that’s almost as comfortable as having them stretched out would be.

Levi looks at you, almost feeling sympathy for your withered appearance. He doesn’t fail to let you know about the way you look.

“You look pathetic, you know that?”

“Mm,” you respond, nonchalantly. It’s not the worst thing being cared for in Levi’s house by Levi, you just wish he would go about it some other way.

You don’t want to be mad at him anymore, so you do something to decrease the tension. You set you feet down on his lap. He doesn’t do anything about it. He doesn’t move them, he doesn’t make a face, but instead he holds onto your ankles.

You ended up watching a movie with Levi. The bottle of wine did end up being consumed by both of you, but for once you felt okay. You weren’t tired, and the movie plot had you hooked, so you didn’t have anything to say. There were incidents where you couldn’t ignore the feeling of Levi’s still hands on your ankles. His hands never moved from their position, but the contact was always on your mind. You shifted around a lot, and your legs moved every time. Levi always got ahold of your ankles again, and he would mindlessly brush your Achilles tendon with his thumb.

The movie ended, and the sluggishness was finally seeping into your system. Your eyes didn’t move as quickly as they did when you were sober, and you felt more aware of your existence.

“You good?” Levi asks, his hand settling on your knee as a comforting gesture.

“Yeah, just got a rush of tiredness,” you say, groaning as you sit up. “But, I’m not ready to go to sleep, yet.”

“Want to watch another movie?” He asks, reaching for the remote next to him.

“We can do whatever you want, just don’t let me go to sleep. I need to feel like I have a life outside of work.”

He holds back a grin—the way your eyes roll as you fight off sleep is adorable. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Right. I’m here, in your house, with you. What a life!”

“Shh, it’s late. My neighbors don’t hate me, and I don’t want them to start hating me because of you.”

You chuckle, putting a finger to your lips and mimic his ‘shh’.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” You ask, your heart coming to life as he looks at you like you told him you were driving home in this state. You were expecting him to call you a weirdo or something, but instead, he said, “Go for it.”

You moved your legs off of his lap, and scooted next to him, sitting upright. The screen of the TV went black because of the time it remained idle. You saw your reflection along with Levi’s just a few feet above you. It was a pretty picture, not predictable, but pretty overall. You could see everything so clearly, none of the alcohol you had consumed influenced your decision making abilities. You felt the need to show Levi how much you liked him.

You turn to face him, adjusting your position so that you’re sitting on your knees. You press a spontaneous featherlight kiss to the side of his neck, the cool air making the spot feel cold immediately after you pulled away.

“You’re kidding,” he mutters.

Not at all.

You lean in again, kissing the same spot, leading the trail towards his jawline.

“Why aren’t you asking me to stop, Levi?” You murmur against his skin. Your giggle near his ear wakes something up inside him.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he bravely admits. His eyes shut as you continue to shower him with affection. Nothing you say can excuse the way his heart beats at the feeling of your touch.

You reach the end of his jawline, kissing his chin, a surprised breath escaping you when he turns to connect his lips to yours. His lips feel good on yours, and you don’t know if you should get comfortable with it.

He turns his body to be straight in front of yours, before holding onto your shoulders, and slowly tipping you backwards until your back is on the couch cushions. His lips return to yours, a little more ‘I want you, too’ in the movements. You feel his hands on your waist, some of the warmth directly on your skin where your shirt is lifted.

Your thighs trap his hips between them, and Levi feels so comfortable with the softness. You pull away and take a deep breath. You see something in his eyes, and depending on who looks at his expression, it could be judged as love or lust. You see both, but won’t take care of the lust part tonight. It’s not the best idea, considering how much you both had to drink.

Regardless of how definitive your actions are, you won’t take it that further step in fear of seeing the look of regret on his face in the morning. Or maybe he’ll look at you the same way as he’s looking at you now. Either way, you’re not willing to take that risk.

“Come on, kiss me,” he demands. He’s had a taste of your lips and he’s not ready to forget them yet. Not when he still has you so close.

“Come closer,” you tease. He leans in, eye contact until his mouth is on yours again. You got him hooked on you, an addiction was soon to take over the way he sees you.

At some point in the make out, the heat started dying out, and it slowly turned into pure affection from both of you. Your lips weren’t fully locking anymore, instead just brushing against each other. You ended up being lulled to sleep by Levi’s lips, because even when you stopped kissing him, he kept going. He noticed the end of the movement of your lips, and knew you were falling asleep, so his kisses got softer, and he kept going until he heard soft breathing coming from your nose.

He got off of you and went into his bedroom to grab a blanket for you. Once he draped it over you, he went back to his original spot on the couch, by your legs and just watched you. He could’t believe that just a moment ago you were kissing so freely, like it was a casual thing to do because you’re two friends in one house, alone. He zoned out for the longest time, replaying the moment over and over again. Tonight would be the reason for the way he stutters occasionally whenever he talks to you, the reason for why his eyes lower to your lips when you’re having a full on conversation. You’ve done something that can’t be undone, and it’ll haunt him for a good while.

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milkywaygg · 8 months

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Confidential Affairs Chapter 5

Interpretations of Mama and Papa Cosmo belong to @eripops. Enjoy!

The next morning, Jules was disappointed to find no Euphemia lying next to him in bed. Rubbing his eyes and putting on his rectangular reading glasses on, he looked at the alarm clock next to her side of the bed which read 6:30 ; a little over an hour earlier than she normally left for work. Worried, he grabbed him phone from his nightstand and opened Euphemia’s contact information.

Where’d you go? You don’t usually leave this early.

Instead of the usual, nearly immediate response however, Jules did not receive an answer right away, but did notice the texting bubble appear and disappear at a somewhat quick rate. After a few minutes of this pattern, Jules sighed, sending her another message.

All I want to know is where you went….

Sorry! Got caught up at work! Will probably be home a bit later this afternoon. Have a good day, sweetheart.

Frowning and rolling his eyes, Jules decided that he might as well get up and get ready himself, seeing as his thoughts would keep him up the rest of the day. Pulling his usual green polo sweater and black pants outfit and placing it on the bed, he took off his pajamas and took his sweet time lathering in rose-scented bubbles and lavender soap, thinking about how Euphemia had been acting ever since she had gotten back from her parents.

She has had fights with them before, hadn’t she? So, why was she acting so different? Why was she so nervous to even go near him? Did he do something wrong? Combing his seaweed green hair and buckling his brown belt, he decided to check the mail before making himself breakfast, seeing as the mail usually ran early on Tuesdays and if Jules didn’t check it now, he’d forget until some of the bills were past due. Taking the envelopes out of the mailbox, he flipped lazily through the huge pile; pretty much all of them having Euphemia’s name on it, until Jules finally landed on the last few letters, with bold, crimson letters that said OVERDUE on the envelope.

What in the world was going on? Euphemia was always on top of the bills! Ever since moving from high-class to lower middle class after their engagement, Euphemia absolutely HATED incurring late fees, because she often could barely afford to pay the bill in full, and she DESPIESD asking Jules for financial help, because he would hear often about how “worthless of a wife I would be if I made you pay for things”; that mentality Jules could never fully understand.

Maybe it was just how she was raised, but the one thing Jules didn’t care for in Euphemia was her tendency to micromanage him. It was like he was this fragile doll that she was afraid could break any minute or a child that could get lost if she’s not within sight. Jules was not a confrontational or bold and confident person by any means, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t take care of himself. If only Euphemia could understand that..

Jules felt himself jerk as he dropped the envelops onto the coffee table, his phone vibrating in his pants pocket. Taking it out expecting it to be Euphemia, his eyebrows raised when the Called ID read Mama <3 instead.

“Hi Mama!”

“Jules! How are you? How’s my little man?”

“I’m alright Mama. How are you?”

“I’m fine baby. Well, I’m calling to see if you’d like to visit your Father and I for lunch later on today! We’ve got a wonderful surprise we wanted to show you, and we’d love it if you brought Euphemia along. I think you’re going to absolutely love it. Oh wait, you’re not working today, are you?”

“No, I’ve got the day off.”, Jules said, smiling, “I’ll be there, but Euphemia has to work. Um…actually lunch would be perfect. I need some advice regarding well..her haha.”

“Oh no, is everything ok?”

“I think so, except, she’s been acting super weird lately. I-I don’t know Mama. It’s complicated and I’ve got too much to tell you over the phone. How’s 11 sound?”

“11 sounds perfect! We’ll see you then!”

The later morning seemed almost to be too perfect of a day for Jules to go see his parents. The skies shined in its typical, cloudy lilac and pink fashion, and the warm wind and fresh air made Jules temporarily forget his troubles with Euphemia. Unable to teleport himself, he opted to take the bus and watched as the streets and buildings went from polished and business -like to more akin to a village and small down. Instead of large supermarkets and shopping centers, most of the stores were small mom and pop shops that sold organic goods and handmade clothes, and there was often more emphasis on family rather than profit.

It was such a nice change of pace. The air went from riddled with magical pollution to smelling somewhat fresh and clean and the streets were less crowded with trash and people teleporting from place to place. After getting off the bus stop, Jules took the scenic route towards this parents’ cottage, the same house he grew up in, and allowed the peaceful walk to clear his wind, making him feel less tense than earlier that morning.

“Jules! There’s my boy!”, Cecilia, his mother, a tall woman with straight, orange hair and round glasses hugged him. His father Gonzo, whom Jules took a great deal of appearance after, smiled in the background as he set the table. Jules smiled back before taking note of the table, decked out with white plastic plates, forks, and knives. Plastic plates instead of paper? Must be a special occasion.

“I see you’ve got the good plates out. Are we having company?”, Jules asked as his mother let him in, now noticing the squeaking that came from the ceiling fan as it spun around and around.

“You’re the company, silly billy. It’s just…it’s been so long. It’s been awfully quiet around here ever since you moved in with that Cosma girl. We’ve missed having you around to give us bug-infested flowers and daffodils, haven’t we Gonzo?”

“Well…we could have done without all those blasted ants.”, Gonzo chuckled, placing a large pot in the center of the table, alongside a basket on grilled cheese sandwiches, “Figured you’d be ok with some sandwiches and tomato soup. Brings you back a few centuries, eh?”

“Sure does.”, Jules smiled warmly as he took his seat, helping himself to several grilled cheeses, dipping them in his soup gently. “So, what’s the surprise you wanted to show me?”

“We’ll show you after we eat, son.”, Gonzo said, taking a bit of his lunch, “I’m surprised you didn’t bring the girlfriend over.”

“Yeah well..”, Jules’ previously lighthearted tone sighed, “She’s been acting kinda weird lately, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Well two things.”, Jules’s smiled returned. He held out his right hand, where a silver flower with an emerald in the middle lied down on his ring fingers. Cecilia let out a gasp as Gonzo looked up at this son. After a moment, Jules took his hand back and stood up, rubbing his hands at his stomach, Gonzo gasping alongside his wife.

“We’re gonna be grandparents?”, Gonzo asked, trying to catch his breath, “AND you’re getting married? Son, that’s wonderful!”

“Oh, we have just the perfect place to hold you wedding!”, Cecilia cheered, noticing Jules’ less than thrilled expression, “Are you ok? Aren’t you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited. Euphemia is the love of my life and I’m very lucky she’s a part of my life. It’s just..”, Jules’ worried tone returned, “I don’t know. I have the odd feeling in the pit of my stomach that she’s hiding something from me.”

“Maybe she’s just stressed out.”, Cecilia suggested, “Having your first child AND a wedding to plan sounds like a lot of work.”

“I guess so, but lately, I..I don’t know. I-I don’t mean to come in with all this drama.”

“Well, you’ve always been the hot-headed one out of the three of us. We’re pretty much used to it.”, Cecilia chuckled, shrugging her shoulders.

“I know…I think my main issue is that lately, she’s been acting like I can’t take care of myself. I mean, I’m not that far along, and this morning, I found out that some of the bills were overdue and she didn’t even tell me!”

“Maybe she just wants to keep you from stressing out so much”

“Yeah well, she’s not doing a very good job for that. I know she doesn’t want me to worry, but I don’t know. I just can’t help myself.”, Jules said, finishing the last of his lunch, “I know she has good intentions but I’m not a child anymore. I’m about to be her husband. Don’t I have the right to know what’s going on in her life?”

“Well son, you do have a point.”, Gonzo said, listening to his sons words, “But confronting her’s not gonna do the trick. From the few times we’ve met her, I don’t think she’s the type to just give up and admit she’s wrong.”

“Well, her parents have been pretty hard on her. I suppose she was just raised to keep her problems to herself. I don’t know. I’m sorry to vent. I’m just worried about her, that’s all.”

“All you can do is give her time and space. She’ll tell you everything that’s going on when she’s ready. Don’t worry.”, Cecilia smiled warmly as the last of the sandwiches and final tomato soup drops were finished, “Ready for the surprise?”

Gonzo and Cecilia lead Jules towards the garden, his favorite place to roam and wander off when he as a kid. Opening his eyes, emerald sparkles shined through as the small seedlings and buds that once decorated the sides of the house now blossomed into beautiful roses and tulips. Several of the trees they planted started to sprout plentiful apples and peaches, and the flower beds seemed to make colorful rows around the field. Jules was particularly impressed by a group of white star flowers that bounce happily with the wind breeze.

“Wow…it’s so beautiful. You guys did a really stellar job.”

“And..I was thinking..we set up a few picnics tables, and maybe you and Euphemia could get married here? I mean, if you hadn’t already picked a venue.”

“We’ve barely even thought about it, but wow…I would be so honored.”, Jules gasped, falling in love with each and every single petal on every single flower. Grabbing his phone out to take a photo, Jules turned to his parents and smiled, “I’ll have to see what she says, but I’m sure she’ll love it.”

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #fanfic #au

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noa748 · 1 year

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Avert Crisis: Intermission (2)

Continuation of this. I enjoyed myself way too much.

----

Genesis

Today was not his day.

Granted, he’d had far worse. He remembered that day in Junon, slinking through the back alleys like a common criminal to hide the fact that the degradation was painful enough to make his legs shake. A superior officer, SOLDIER First Class, trembling like a fledgling chocobo? Utterly repugnant.

At least that day had turned a corner. He had come out of it reborn. He did not have similar hopes for the present.

He had been trudging through the mountains for the better part of a week. He had no provisions, and he hadn’t eaten in days. None of his materia were working. The humidity was doing a number on his hair. There was a hole in his right sock.

And he didn’t know where the hell he was.

The thought of trying to fly had crossed his mind, but he had decided he couldn’t take the risk. Being seen by the public like that could mean the end of his career… and potentially his life. Shinra wouldn’t want its docile flock to know there were true monsters being bred in their midst.

The fates are cruel, he thought bitterly, resigned to this infernal march.

The mountains were marginally—marginally!—better, at least, than the place he had woken up in. His first six hours upon regaining awareness had been spent navigating a pitch-black cavern, the darkness so thick it was almost suffocating. He had only managed to escape the place through use of his heightened senses and the residual light given off by his (otherwise useless) mastered Fire materia. It had taken almost an hour for his eyes to adjust once he finally made it outside.

Earlier today, he had reached high enough ground to see what might lie ahead of him. What he did observe was rather discouraging. The mountain ridge extended as far north as he could see. To the east, there was a significantly larger mountain, and beyond that the sea. There appeared to be a fortified settlement to the northeast, on the other side of this mountain pass. That was where he was headed now.

He had done his fair share of travel for the company, and he had wound up in unfamiliar places many times before. It was frustrating to not recognize his surroundings, but…

The materia. That was the most alarming part for him.

Genesis had possessed a natural affinity for materia since he was quite young. He’d grown used to the presence of magic at his fingertips, and he’d made sport of finding and mastering every type of materia he could get his hands on. His arsenal would put even the great Sephiroth to shame.

And yet… that very arsenal was now disturbingly quiet. He could feel its warmth, the hum of its power—but he could no longer tap into it. It felt almost as if he were missing a limb.

To add insult to injury, his PHS had just died. It had lasted longer than expected, but it hadn’t picked up any service in the long days he had been traveling. Spotty service was normal enough in certain regions of the world—but none at all, for days? Concerning.

Sweat had plastered his bangs to his forehead. Heaving a sigh, he pushed them out of his face with one hand. This entire debacle couldn’t have occurred with worse timing. Without his phone…

There are no guarantees—once you hurt someone that badly, they might never trust you again. I almost lost my best friend because I kept things from him. And what if you never get the chance to explain yourself?

Genesis squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw at the memory. He had tried to call… three times. He was well aware that for him, it screamed of desperation. The Angeal he knew would normally have been quite worried, and to not receive a response was gutting.

Eventually… Angeal comes to hate his existence so much that he forces Zack to fight him. To save the world from himself.

“No,” he bit out, shaking his head to clear the dark clouds away. He wouldn’t allow that to come to pass. He would bring Angeal to his senses.

The SOLDIER lengthened his strides, picking up the pace. Time was short, and he needed answers. The walled city in the distance drew closer.

----

He had misjudged. The city he had spied yesterday turned out to be larger than he had anticipated, and that in itself was a concern. There were two guards posted at the front gate, carrying halberds and covered head to toe in heavy armor. They waved him through without a second glance.

Inside the stone walls, the city was bustling with activity. He stood on a cobblestone avenue with countless merchant stalls on both sides, selling all manner of wares. Throngs of shoppers milled about, some looking well-to-do while others were dressed in shabby clothes. He had to push away the curious nose of a stray mongrel.

Meltokio. He picked up the name of the city from various signs and overheard conversations. It was alien to him.

He looked up at the grand staircase just ahead of him. The city appeared to be built in levels. If he looked up to the summit of this manmade mountain, he could see the pointed towers and stone turrets of what appeared to be a massive castle.

Castles were a thing of the past, of fairy tales and legends. The paintings he had seen really amounted to little more than fanciful theories of what the crumbling ruins around the world may have looked like in ages past. It was rumored that Kalm was built on the foundations of an ancient castle, as it had protective walls much like the ones surrounding this city.

On one hand, he had to admit that seeing something like this stirred something in him, awakened his inner romantic. As a child, he had eaten up the whimsical tales of dragoons and mages, princesses and magic crystals. Years in the military, however, had left little room for that sort of dreaming. Theater and the arts had been his salvation instead.

Well. Then there was the other hand… castles and great walled cities such as this did not exist. Could not exist, with Shinra holding most of the world’s wealth and power in a veritable chokehold. He hadn’t seen a single vehicle since arriving, other than the occasional archaic looking wagon. The fashion was strange, and the coins being exchanged at the shop stalls were not the silver color of gil, but bright gold instead.

I’m not from this planet—the world I come from is called Earth. It’s a place without magic or materia.

Her words from that day came unbidden to his mind, giving him pause. Another world…

Perhaps he was just going insane.

Something bumped into his side roughly, and he snapped to attention just in time to see a young boy taking off through the crowd. Realization hit, and he patted the pocket of his coat. His wallet and PHS were gone.

No. His ID, his money, his only hope of contacting Angeal—his only photograph of himself and Angeal, taken when they were boys. It was everything he had. It was all he had left.

“Stop,” he growled fiercely, taking off after the pickpocket. He caught a glimpse of the child looking over his shoulder before picking up the pace and disappearing around a corner.

Genesis was not one to be deterred. He ran through the throngs of people, dodging pedestrians with practiced ease. Curse his defunct materia! All it would have taken was a simple Stop spell to put an end to this foolishness.

“H-Hey! Let me go!”

Materia turned out to be unnecessary after all. Genesis caught up in time to see that the boy had been forced to an abrupt halt; he was squirming, being held up by the back of his shirt like a stray kitten.

“Now, now. Let’s not be too hasty, kiddo. You stole something again, didn’t you?”

The pickpocket’s captor delivered the words in a smooth, self-assured tone. He was a few inches shorter than Genesis, with long red hair that cascaded over his shoulders in wild curls. He wore a sleeveless pink jacket, long gloves, and roomy white pants without a single scuff or stain. The clothing looked decidedly… upper class, but Genesis didn’t miss the broad, muscled shoulders or the sword at his hip.

When the SOLDIER strode up and made himself known, the pickpocket’s head snapped up and he renewed his efforts to escape.

“Ah, so it’s this guy, huh?”

Blue eyes met blue. Despite the stranger’s light tone and jovial demeanor, Genesis noted that those eyes were surprisingly cool, almost calculating.

“Okay, fine! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The boy bowed his head, digging through his satchel and procuring the stolen items.

“Hm?” The stranger held up his PHS, examining it. “It’s just junk!”

“Junk?” Genesis sputtered, scowling. He was ignored.

“Anyway, kid, little word of advice… stop stealing from people who are armed, mmkay? I can’t save you every time.” He released the pickpocket’s shirt, and the boy tumbled unceremoniously to the ground. “Papal Knights incoming. Scram.”

The boy did just that, stumbling to his feet and ducking into an alley just as the sound of armored boots drew closer. Genesis glanced over his shoulder to see several men arrive, clad in the same armor as the guards he saw at the front gate.

“Chosen! Is everything all right here? We heard there was a theft.” One of the knights turned to him. “I thought this man looked like trouble.”

Genesis was indignant. “Do I look like a common pickpocket?!”

“Nah, it’s all good,” the man replied flippantly. “He’s with me. And I’m not the Chosen anymore. Stop using the title.”

“Ah—y-yes, of course, Lord Zelos,” the knight stammered. “Well then, er… as you were.”

The armored men made their way off, leaving the two of them alone once more. Well—as alone as they could be. This area of the city appeared to be less crowded than near the entrance, but they still had some curious onlookers. Whispers of “Zelos” and “Chosen One” met Genesis’s ears over and over. It seemed that everyone knew this man. He had heard some pretentious titles in his day, but Chosen One had to rank near the top of the list.

“Y’know, normally a hearty thanks is in order after someone saves your ass,” Zelos remarked with an easy grin, tossing him his things. “It’s okay, I’ll wait.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time,” Genesis said sourly. He may very well have given his thanks if this man weren’t so damn insufferable. “I would have caught the thief on my own.”

“Touchy!” The man laughed, unbothered. Then his smile thinned a bit, his eyes sharpening. “Well. Normally I wouldn’t concern myself, but this is my turf and you kinda do look like trouble. What would you have done if you caught the kid?”

Genesis huffed, mildly offended. “There are no dreams, no honor remains… you presume too much. I had no intent to harm.”

Interesting. So the man had assessed the situation and intervened on behalf of the boy. He was certainly shrewder than he appeared.

“Zelos, there you are.”

A female voice. The SOLDIER looked up to see a woman in an orange overcoat striding up. He tensed when he saw the color of her short hair—bright silver, almost white. It was a shade or two lighter than Sephiroth’s, but close enough to be jarring. He had never met anyone else with that hair color. Was it dyed?

Zelos slipped easily back into the same obnoxious cheer as before, turning to greet her. “My bewitching Professor Sage! Finished up at the lab? Let me buy you dinner.”

“Nice try, but no,” she responded with a shake of the head and a knowing smile. “I need you to review some documents for me before I present them to the King. And—oh, who’s this?” The woman had noticed him.

“Not important, forget about him,” Zelos said, waving a hand.

Genesis bristled. This was ludicrous. Why was he still here? He had his possessions back.

With that thought (and with some relief—this had been tiresome), he turned on his heel and prepared to walk away.

“Wait,” the woman called. “That pendant you’re wearing… what is that?”

The SOLDIER stopped in his tracks. The pendant… ah.

This is a piece of the artifact that healed you. It doesn’t work anymore, but… I dunno, I thought you might want to have it.

“The gift of the goddess,” he murmured. It had been given to him three weeks ago, and he had taken to wearing it as a reminder of how different things could’ve been. His pupil had taken to playfully calling it his ‘friendship necklace.’ She carried the other piece.

The silver-haired woman had caught up and she was suddenly too close for comfort, a manic gleam in her eyes.

“Is that—it is! A unicorn horn. Fascinating! But how…? It’s only been two years—could the new foal have reached maturity so quickly?”

“Professor.” Zelos had approached, and was staring at him with an entirely new expression. The humor had left his face. “Didn’t you give Brittany the unicorn horn before she left?”

Now Genesis snapped to attention. His blood ran cold as the events of the past few days began to finally make sense.

It took me over a year to return that time—a year of suffering and fighting and learning who I was and just how far I was willing to go for everything I cared about.

The SOLDIER narrowed his eyes, locking gazes with Zelos.

“How do you know Brittany?”

#tries to write actual fics #struggles to squeeze out one sentence an hour #tries to write random plot bunny #writes 5000 words in two days #sla;kdfjas;dlkf #noa748 writing #i am so mean to genesis in this

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