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blouisparadise · 3 years

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We frequently get asked what our members favorite fics are, so for today’s rec list, we asked each member of BLP to choose FIVE favorite fics for this list - no repeats allowed. Please keep in mind that this is not a complete list of our favorites - there are so many amazing BL fics out there that we all have a lot more than this! Still, we hope you enjoy. Happy reading!

1) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words

“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.

The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.

Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it. Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.

2) Quietly Our Hearts Beat | Explicit | 7539 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.

3) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis’s staring up at him, head tilted slightly back, and his blue eyes are glassy, locked with Harry’s in an unblinking and gentle gaze. He looks ready to do whatever Harry says, to please him whatever way.

4) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

5) No Good Unless It’s Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

6) A Springtime’s Wilt, An Autumn’s Bloom | Explicit | 20593 words

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

7) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words

The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.

11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

12) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words

An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.

13) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.

“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”

Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

14) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

15) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words

The one where Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.

16) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words | Sequel

The accidental bonding A/B/O fic.

17) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

18) Stuck On You | Explicit | 33983 words

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

19) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

20) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Alternatively titled: the beginning.

21) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

24) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40580 words

Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

25) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

26) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

27) Love’s Truest Language | Explicit | 48195 words

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.

“Where's your order forms, then?”

“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

28) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words

The one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

29) Latibule | Mature | 54322 words

A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.

30) Warming Up To You | Explicit | 56227 words

Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.

31) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.

32) Curly Bun Man | Not Rated | 68597 words

I just paid for these Doritos but they're stuck in the vending machine and I know you've been waiting but I am not going to let you buy something until you help me. AU.

33) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words | Sequel

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

34) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80582 words

Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.

35) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

36) Where You Lay | Explicit | 86038 words

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

37) And Down The Long And Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

38) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

39) The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 113921 words

Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.

40) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126057 words | Sequel (WIP)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #larry

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wherethingscomebackx · 3 years

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Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!! As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic rec #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fic rec #larry fan fiction #updated because I'm an idiot and added a zarry fic

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journalxxx · 3 years

Text

Repetita Iuvant

The room was almost perfectly quiet. The barely audible buzzing of the medical equipment and the occasional squawk of a bird outside were the only noises Izuku had heard in probably hours. The chair creaked when he moved, his shoes squeaked on the white floor. He had already grown used to the pungent smell of disinfectant. No one had come to check on either of them in a while. There was nothing whatsoever to distract him from his thoughts and from the enormity of the consequence that his recklessness could have had- could still have.

How very obvious All For One's plan had been, in hindsight. Driving Izuku to drive himself to the brink of exhaustion and to detach himself from any semblance of support. Sending few lone agents first to inflict some physical chip damage and a much more substantial amount of psychological warfare. Leading him to walk, alone and unprepared and worn-out, straight into the real trap.

Even without Endeavor's fire propulsion or the perceptive wings of the hero who was always just a little too fast, All Might had been the first one to reach the fight. Izuku knew that his words weren't going to dissuade him from trying to follow his student, but he'd thought he could manage to outspeed him, to keep the danger just a little ahead of him at every turn. How arrogant and simple-minded.

All Might hadn't wasted a second. With what little combat gear he had at hand, he had immediately provided cover fire and diversion, dodging and hiding and inching his way towards Izuku as the horde of strategically placed snipers and brawlers kept him too busy to track his mentor's approach. All Might, who, Todoroki had told him, even after losing every last ounce of his power, had once unhesitatingly thrown himself in harm's way to protect a wandering bystander from collateral damage. All Might, who had once again thrown himself in harm's way to protect his disgraceful successor from a potentially lethal blow. Izuku had recognized the villain who had charged forwards. There were two whole pages about him on one of his old notebooks, probably number 7 or 8. A convict with a sunlight-fuelled power-enhancing quirk who had regained his freedom during one of the many breakouts following Tartarus' fall, a villain that All Might himself had brought to justice a few years back. Izuku had seen the cruel grin on the criminal's face when he had realized who his attack had landed on. Izuku had seen the sadistic glint in his eyes as he instantly stopped caring about the target of the operation in order to exact his revenge on his captor, and started pummelling the frail, stumbling figure savagely. Caught in the crossfire of the battle, it had taken Izuku ninety seconds to separate the rampaging brute from his victim. Ninety seconds was a tremendously long time in the raging frenzy of a battlefield. The sight of All Might's bloodied, battered, unconscious form was the last clear memory Izuku retained of the whole accident. After that, it was a blurry sequence of hits, dodges, movement, explosions, noise, made even more chaotic by the arrival of other heroes. After that, a mad dash to the nearest hospital. After that... Time. Nothing but time, hours and hours, with the sole company of his regrets. Endeavor, of all people, had had a few words for Izuku when he had reached the hospital as well. Not very heartfelt or unexpected ones, but undeniably warranted. Endeavor, who was just about the most unsociable, standoffish and selfish hero in the industry, and an unspeakable parent and husband to boot. Endeavor, who nonetheless had opened up his own agency, had sidekicks, subordinates, support, a proper network of associates, and was demonstrably not above accepting help when he obviously needed it. Not even Endeavor could have messed up so badly. Hawks had just shaken his head and spared Izuku any tirades, for the time being. He had kept watch, and later said that Recovery Girl was on her way. Izuku had genuinely no idea how many hours (days?) had passed since All Might had been admitted to the hospital. He had let some doctors examine his own wounds, done whatever he was told to do and answered whatever question he was asked with the most appropriate monosyllable. He had slept, not by choice but probably because of some medicine someone gave him at some point. He had washed and put on some fresh clothes provided by Jeanist. He had eaten, barely. He had waited. Stared at walls. Paced. Let his brain dissect in every detail the harrowing series of unforgivable blunders that had led to the current situation. Despite the doctors' initial opposition, they had allowed Izuku to enter All Might's room after Hawks had interceded. The noticeble lack of reassurances about the man's conditions had worried him, but, unlike in Nighteye's case, no one had warned him of his impending demise either, which was as good a sign as he was going to get. Since then, no one had showed up to tell him to leave, so he hadn't. He had tried to be rational about it, at first. He had analyzed the fact that All For One's goons seemed hell bent on taking advantage of All Might's weak point. The first noumu had done it, Wolfram had done it, the latest assailant had done it as well, if the extensive dressing covering the entirety of All Might's left side was of any indication. It was wicked and cowardly, but it was also a bit of a blessing in disguise. Most of his vital organs in that area had long since been eradicated, and it stood to reason that any damage on the opposite side, for example to All Might's sole remaining lung, would be more likely to prove deadly. He hoped his foes would never get that memo. He noted how scattered All Might's injuries were and reflected that, if the villain had focussed all those hits and raw strength on the hero's head alone, he would have turned it into mincemeat in a matter of seconds. As it stood, most of All Might's head was unscathed, with some padded bandaging covering about a third of his face, but relatively little damage to the cranial lid itself. Another instance of cruelty turning to their advantage, Izuku guessed. Unfortunately, instead of getting used to the sight of his mentor's wrecked body, Izuku was only finding it more and more distressing as time went by. There were too many bandages, too many tubes and machines and cables laid out around and all over him. He was too pale, his features too sunken, his appearance too similar to a corpse, his chest rising too shallowly with each breath to give him any measure of comfort. Izuku crumpled forwards in his chair, hands in his hair, face resolutely pointed at the floor, unable to stand the sight any longer. He was gutless, unworthy and criminally short-sighted. One For All probably shared that sentiment, since he hadn't heard a peep from any of the vestiges since the fight. He resumed, for the millionth time, revisiting the events of the last months, letting guilt engulf him like a poisonous cloud. He was snapped out of his reverie by a fierce grip on his wrist, and the sudden blaring of one of the machines. His heart jumped in his throat and he looked up to see All Might reaching out to him with his good hand, awake and tense, rushed breaths fogging the oxygen mask he was wearing. Izuku's eyes flew back and forth between the man and the beeping monitor. Was he reading it correctly? A heart rate spike? Something worse? All Might was definitely awake, but not altogether... there. He had a haunted, distant expression that made Izuku's stomach constrict painfully. "All Might?" He called, utterly failing to suppress his increasing dread. He tried to pry his teacher's hand away from his arm so that he could run and alert someone, but those bony fingers clawed him with such strength that no man in his condition had any right to have. "What's wrong?" The question seemed to help him get his bearings, somehow. Tension became confusion as All Might's gaze roamed all over Izuku, then the room, then what little he could see of himself from his lying position. Eventually the confusion waned too and exhaustion took its place as he closed his eyes and ventured a few deeper breaths. Izuku tentatively stood up, but All Might, despite loosening his iron grip, didn't let go of him. "Are you in pain? Shall I call someone?" He asked, still frazzled. A negative nod. As if in agreement, the monitor spontaneously ceased beeping. Izuku felt as if any decision-making ability he had ever possessed had been crushed alongside his mentor's limbs. Should he call someone, just to be sure? Weren't they monitoring patients remotely anyway? Should he- All Might opened his eyes again, and met Izuku's. The light that normally brightened them, a flame that had nothing to do with quirks and that Izuku had thought inextinguishable, was subdued and meek. It made the boy's breath catch in his throat. "I-I'm..." He couldn't say it. Apologies couldn't cut it, not this time. There were no words that could even begin to atone for the catastrophe he had nearly caused, for the pain he knew he had inflicted to the one person that had always, unerringly trusted him. His traitorous eyes burned and his vision blurred. Izuku squeezed them and bit his lip, hard. He would not cry. He didn't have the right to, especially not after months spent playing the stoic vigilante, and it was a damnable weakness he should have weaned off long ago, and All Might barely tolerated it in the first place. All Might tugged at his arm. He was regarding him gently now, with that deep warmth that one never expected to match those haggard features of his. He pulled again, until Izuku returned to the chair and scooted a little closer to the bed, close enough for All Might to move his hand to the boy's hair. "It's okay." All Might finally spoke. His voice was disturbingly different from his usual stentorean timbre, like the rumbling thunder of a distant storm even when it was at its lowest. There was a breathless, wispy quality to his tone now, and long pauses stretching between each sentence he uttered. "It's okay to cry... I should have told you... a long time ago..." Izuku's throat clenched painfully. There was so much he had to say and explain and apologize for, so much he had to tell him, but he couldn't. He couldn't. A pitiful whimper escaped him as he brought his own hand to cover All Might's. To stop him and pull it away, or to grasp it and hold it closer, he didn't even know. "Repeat after me." All Might said in English with that odd accent of his that didn't quite sound as natural as an American's, but that nonetheless seemed to roll off his tongue so easily. Those words hit Izuku almost physically, summoning a memory of roaring waves under a starry sky, of a joyful run along an immaculate beach in a time when the future looked so much brighter, and so much more hopeful. "It's okay to cry." "...It's. Okay. To cry-" Izuku managed to force out haltingly, and suddenly it was as if a dam broke inside him. Gross sobs escaped him uncontrollably, making him gasp aloud and flinch beneath his mentor's calm gaze as some part of him took those words in stride with frightening promptness. "Don't push yourself too hard." All Might was smiling now, of all things. Where he found the strength, the will, the reason to smile so softly at him here, now, Izuku had no idea. It took the boy a few moments to realize that the hero was still expecting him to reply. "Don't push yourself too hard." He echoed shakily. He thought of Musutafu, of the USJ, of Kamino. He wondered to whom, exactly, these words were aimed at. He abandoned that line of thought immediately. "You deserve to rest." "You deserve-" He stopped. He could not say those words, not like this. It sounded way too much like a farewell, like a request for a parting blessing. Which was unthinkable, because All Might had vowed to keep on living and he would never go back on it. But Izuku's mind conjured notions of eternal rest, tragic visions that may or may not come to pass, irredeemable mistakes- All Might's hand slid away from under Izuku's. The same hand that had once shattered buildings, created whirlwinds, held an entire nation's hope in its raised fist, trailed down Izuku's temple with unimaginable tenderness. It cupped the boy's cheek in its palm, it wiped away stray tears with its thumb. All Might mouthed something, more of an exhale than actual words, that Izuku couldn't quite catch over the sound of his own gasps. "You deserve to rest." The boy finished. All Might was still smiling, more serene that Izuku had seen him in months. "Let's talk more later, hm?" He sighed as he closed his eyes, his hand slowly falling back on the bed. Izuku clasped it back between his own in an instant, panic flaring up in his gut all over again, fearing the unthinkable. But the equipment kept buzzing quietly and undisturbed, the birds kept squawking, his chair kept creaking and his shoes kept squeaking. He focussed on the firm pulse beating under his fingertips, for as long as it took for his own mind to still.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #deku #izuku midoriya #All Might #Toshinori Yagi

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cockasinthebird · 4 years

Note

Now I don’t know if you take requests, but If you do here’s an idea. What about Steve being the King Steve he was, but he’s very slutty one and lets guys fuck him a lot. He would be such a tease to Billy at a party, grind his ass on Billy’s cock on purpose while they’re dancing, because he really wants this hot Cali boy to fuck him senseless already and that’s exactly what happens when Billy finally makes his move and fucks Steve somewhere away from other peoples eyes (Wow this got long sorry!)

Dearest anon, Don’t ever feel the need to apologise for such a long message, especially not one as grand as this!!! Here you go, just grazing 9 pages with the last line, so this is long yes, and I will “warn” you that there’s an excessive amount of dirty talking, at least to my standards, and a bit rough play, but nothing severe of course. Enjoy!

Another Saturday, another unsupervised party in the distant Harrington Mansion, music pulsating so vividly that Billy swears he can feel it through the soles of his heavy boots as he walks between cars parked on the grass.

It doesn't take a fool to know that the high and mighty King Steve has issues with the solitude his house brings, nestled between grand trees, so distant from the rest of the town that there's never once been a noise complaint. That he has issues with the lack of parental attention, and instead seeks to fill the emptiness of his house with his loyal subjects; particularly his bed.

Which might be why Billy always shows up, or maybe not, but who's to tell. Everyone's always at these parties filled with alcohol that Daddy Harrington pays for unknowingly, so it would be weird if Billy wasn't here, too, right? At least he's content with thinking so.

Billy knows loneliness like Steve does, seeks the cure for it just as well, finding brief notions of it when he's got his dick buried in any hole really, his body flooded with liquor, his head pounding to the beat of shitty synth.

So here he is, looking for a saving grace, to have another night filled with sweaty, writhing bodies, stepping through the front door to King Steve's castle once again; having stopped counting how many times around 20.

Just like last week, there's people everywhere – every single junior and senior that knows what's good can be found here, perhaps even a few older drunkards that has nothing better to do in this shit hole town than to crash a high school party.

And just like each and every other time, it's overwhelming in the best possible way. All senses gets fulfilled the second he's completely inside;

Sweaty bodies bumping shoulders as he squeezes his way through the hall, guys patting his shoulders, girls bashing their eyes, and he can't help but grin all smooth and charming at the attention.

Tight jeans and short skirts, bulging muscles and exposed cleavages, all so pleasing to his wandering eyes as his peers twists and turns to ensure he sees it all.

Through the music he can barely hear it when one girl says, “Looking good, Billy,” or when a guy leans in to ask, “Can I get you a drink?” as he makes it into one of the living rooms.

With every breath he takes, a wild and intrusive mixture of perfumes and colognes and deodorants fills his lungs to completion, cheap and expensive alike, and it brings him to life.

All there's left now, is to taste a nice, cold beer, and his soul will be satiated, the checklist for a good party completed, and the festivities could truly begin. But when he turns in to the kitchen, it isn't the giant fridge he focuses on, or the girls passing by, giving him all kinds of bedroom eyes, or the impressive array of chips on display on the kitchen island.

No he sees the host immediately, Steve Harrington, leaning with his back to the wall. His jeans sit a bit more snug than usual, and his tee a bit higher up; not exactly a crop-top per se, but just short enough to expose a gorgeous, wiry trail of hair dipping beneath his pants.

His face is turned towards Tommy Hagan who stands awfully close for that to just be a friendly conversation, and there's no doubt in Billy's mind what they're talking about, if the way Steve's eyes sliding up and down is any indication, or the way he bites into his lower lip.

There is no hiding why Steve is so popular, or why he remains on the top even though Billy managed to beat his keg stand record with ease. Hadn't been any hiding the way Steve leered at him at Tina's Halloween party either.

The first week in Hawkins Billy had caught Steve twice doing the most salacious things, that Billy to this day, 7 long months later, still think about daily.

Steve, on his knees in the showers of the boys locker room one Monday after practice, probably nearly drowning under the water with his mouth wide and stretched around some teammates cock. Even now Billy can recall the way he was moaning and gagging passionately; hears it louder in his mind than the music of the party.

Steve, underneath the bleachers during third period, skipping class to fuck hard into some blonde bitch who struggled to keep quiet as she stood bent forward, arms wrapped around one of the supporting beams for the seats above. And he can still see Steve's lewd expression as he caught Billy staring, Steve's mouth slipping into a sly smirk, eyes dark and heavy as he kept their gazes locked, cumming with the most enticing groan.

Of course that wasn't the last time he saw Steve like that.

Sometimes Steve was the one bent over, against a tree or knees in the grass. Billy has passed by that brown BMW bouncing and wiggling by the side of the road indiscreetly plenty of times. And at almost every party he's attended, he's watched Steve go in and out of rooms with anyone really.

One time he followed along, peeked in through the crack in the door, and watched from start to finish as Steve laid on his back on a desk, hands firmly around his neck, some dude balls deep inside of him.

But with one blink, Steve turns his head and looks directly at Billy, as if he knew the other was watching. And he tilts his head aside, allowing for Tommy to kiss and suck his way down the exposed neck, Steve's lips parting from the smile into something more comfortable.

Billy keeps staring, intently. Walks to the fridge, blindly reaches in to grab what he's hoping is a beer can, then leans against the counter; scarcely ever blinking as to not miss a single second of the show.

And it is ardently clear that Steve enjoys having an audience, enjoys performing. Eyes heavy on Billy, Steve lifts up his right hand in a slight fist, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he simulates giving a blowjob.

Something which Billy can't help but snort at for some reason, despite how the suggestion courses through him rapidly, and Steve seems to find that equally as humorous, as he laughs quietly.

He then grabs Tommy by the chin and guides him off of his sensitive neck. Steve says something that might sound like, “Not tonight,” which wipes Tommy's lustful grin right off. And when Steve looks towards Billy, Tommy's gaze follows right along, and now the freckled guy looks downright pissed off.

Billy stares with a strong intensity, daring him to try anything, as Tommy walks right by with a clear scowl, jaw tense and hands curled by his sides. But he manages to make his way out the kitchen without as much as a word.

When Billy turns to look for Steve again, he finds him standing right by his side, hip against the counter.

“Hi,” Steve purrs.

“Hey,” Billy says and lifts up his beer to take a sip, but Steve is quick to snatch it from his hand, to then drink from it slowly, eyes locked together.

Steve gives a little satisfied hum and licks his lips clean, a gesture that at this short distance sparks inside of Billy's chest, lighting him up.

“What's his problem?” Billy asks and nods in the direction of where Tommy had marched off. “Thought he was dating that Perkins girl.” He tries to play it cool, pretend he's above knowing who's who here, despite the fact that Carol has flirted with him enough times to need more than two hands to count on.

“Him and Carol loves to play this little game where they flirt with others at parties, get all excited at the thought of being unfaithful, then find a place to bang it out.” Steve offers Billy what's left of his beer, which is less than a half, and much less than what Billy needs to keep somewhat calm right now.

“So you and Tommy never...” he trails off, hoping that the insinuation is clear enough.

And judging by the way Steve smiles something so suggestive might just be enough of an answer, yet he says, “Wouldn't you like to know?” And watches how Billy's mouth opens to take a sip.

Neither of them talks as he empties the can. Billy watches how Steve is almost admiring the view; the bob of his Adam's apple, the way his shirt is unbuttoned nearly all the way, the tight fit of his jeans. And Billy wants to say something, a slight quip about enjoying the view, or if he sees something he likes, but it's redundant, because who doesn't like what they see when they look at Billy Hargrove, Keg King.

The tense silence between them gets interrupted, when some drunk girl shouts, “Steve!”

She's got dark hair, a low cut blouse, and an impossibly tight leather skirt. Pretty enough, Billy would say, but he can't remember her name; too many cows around here for him to bother learning what they're all called. It's only important that they know his name, yet it's Steve she calls for and reaches out to grab his hand.

“Steve come on,” she coos and sways even when standing still, “You owe me a dance for doing your essay!”

Steve doesn't resist when she starts pulling him along, just turns to Billy with a certain grin, and says lowly, “Duty calls.”

Admittedly, Billy is kinda impressed with just how easy it is for Steve, or rather, how easy Steve is.

And maybe he spends the next hour thinking about that, as he walks the party with a fresh beer in hand and a searching gaze, always keeping a lookout for where the host might have sneaked off to.

When he stops by the dining table to assist in a victory of beer pong, he's thinking about how often he's seen Steve in compromising positions, rarely ever with the same person twice in a row, but always with such a euphoric expression.

Or when he's standing with a gaggle of girls, charming his way into their hearts, and hopefully their panties, he's thinking about how Steve pays others to do his homework with the pleasure of his company, and how Billy got an A on his history test last week, and how he knows that Steve struggles with that especially.

And when he walks into the other living room that has been designated as a dance floor it seems, he's thinking about that happy trail being exposed whenever Steve raises his arms too high, the way his hair moves fluidly along with the motion of Steve's lively expression, the way his hips goes from side to side in rhythm to the music, and the way his grin twists something so delicious when almond eyes catch angelic blues staring.

Without missing a beat, Steve prances through the crowd; the flow of his body uninterrupted and damn near beautiful as he makes his way to still before Billy's motionless stature, and they share similar smiles as Billy looks at Steve with hooded eyes and something darkening the calm skies in his eyes, tongue out to wet his grin and Steve's appetite.

You Spin Me Round plays louder than Billy's thoughts, and Steve turns his back to him, dancing, arms up, making the shirt expose his dimples of Venus, and Billy finds himself wanting to grab on to the swaying hips, press his thumbs into where the skin dips in the small of Steve's back.

Billy's not much of a dancer himself, but he still sways slightly to the song, shoulders pumping to the rhythm of the least detestable song that's been played so far tonight. All the while he stares at Steve putting on quite the sweaty, twisting, swirling show, and it wouldn't be hard to believe that it is all for the enjoyment of Billy only, despite how others occasionally shoot jealous glares at the pair of them.

He doesn't even notice it when Steve takes a step closer, having once stood a respectable distance away, now so close that Billy can smell perfume on him; whether it's Steve who's gone diving in his mothers drawers, or from girls having been all over him tonight, is an uncertain factor, but he smells good. And perhaps Billy takes a step forward, the movement of Steve enchanting, but the Keg King would absolutely deny it. Deny that there's someone in town who can so easily bewitch him with barely any effort. Deny that he's not in control of this attraction no more than magnets are to metal.

But when there's contact between them as Steve accidentally grazes against Billy with his ass, it becomes increasingly difficult to sustain plausible deniability, and his salacious little smirk falls. And as Steve continues to flow with the rhythm, he meets with Billy's crotch again, this time with more accuracy- more force, and Billy chokes back a, “Fuck,” that wouldn't have been heard no matter what here. When it happens again and again and again, Billy feels heat drain down to pool near his gut, and with every timid grind against his swelling flesh, it ripples through him, like rain breaking surface tension, a fever pulsating.

And this time he takes a definite step forth, pressing himself into Steve's confident movement, who pushes back against him, hips circling around, plump cheeks pressing deliberately into the noticeable bulge now, and although Billy can't see Steve's face, he would bet money on how he's undoubtedly smiling at the attention.

Enough is soon enough, and Billy grabs on to Steve's hips with near brutish force, stopping the irritatingly erratic motion and pulls him as close as possible, so that hopefully Steve can feel just how hard he is.

He leans forward, lips at the shell of Steve's ear, as he growls, “If you don't stop what you're doing, I won't be able to hold back.”

Steve turns his head as far as he can, ass flush with Billy's trapped erection, and shows just how eager he is for that little promise; mouth not turned up in a smile, but hanging wide open as he pants out, “Then don't.” Honeyed eyes drowning in black, lashes fluttering as he gives a tentative roll of his hips, causing Billy to lurch forward, grinding into the friction with a stuttering notion.

Behind a locked door, Steve's desk slams against the wall as he lands on it, Billy shoving at him, tearing off his shirt and dipping down to kiss rudely and bite along the exposed shoulder. Steve with his legs spread wraps them around Billy's firm hips and draws him closer to feel just how eager he is, too, as if the way he's moaning wasn't enough proof of that.

Steve yanks at golden hair to guide Billy up for a desirous meeting of lips, when Billy pulls away to hiss out, “You taste like pussy,” almost in wonder.

“Didn't think you'd mind that,” Steve chuckles then drives his slick tongue into Billy's mean mouth, feels how he sucks it all in, groaning at the mix of spit and booze and pussy that lingers. “How you want me, big boy?”

It takes Billy a second to understand he's being spoken to, as alcohol and his own unadulterated lust mixes in his system, making him grind all animalistic into the spread of Steve's thighs, like a fucking dog humping a leg.

“On your stomach, in bed,” he breathes out wetly and licks his lips to savor what's left of Steve there.

With a hand spread out onto his chest, Steve pushes Billy away, so that he can move off of the desk and step around the hulking, panting stature of Billy's burning hot body. There's a not-so-subtle chime of Steve's belt, his zipper going down a joyous melody, and honestly Billy shouldn't be this surprised to find out that Steve is going commando tonight, and perhaps he always is.

Billy doesn't move at first, paralyzed by the gorgeous curve of Steve's naked ass, how long and perfect his dick is, and he understands now why girls flock to him the way they do. Each and every mole across pale, lean skin the landmarks of a treasure map guiding you down between his legs.

And Steve crawls on to the bed, his knees just on the edge of the mattress, his back turned to Billy still, and he bends over, cheeks spread to expose his tight hole. Moves his right hand down between spread legs where his leaking erection hangs lonely, starts stroking it with slow pulls that brings out fresh moans, while his left hand goes past parted lips; two fingers knuckle deep as he sucks on them, tongue slipping between to get them proper wet and dripping.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” he whines once he's removes his fingers from his mouth. Leads them behind himself, presses both inside with ease, voice stuttering as he pumps them in and out. “Every since I saw you at Tina's party, ahh, when you knocked me off my throne, beat my keg stand record- fuck-” Fingers speed up for a moment, then slows down again, teasing himself- teasing Billy. “I've- I've never felt so defeated, so... alive.”

Billy feels his underwear stick where he's leaking, untouched, but the performance that of a lifetime, and fuck he wishes he had a camera – convinced Steve would be into that, into being filmed like this. He's heard rumors about certain Polaroid pictures circulating school, but he hasn't had the chance to see yet, although that only makes this all the more sweeter, to see King Steve in all his glory afresh.

He tugs his shirt off over his head, unbuckles and unzips, moving closer with a hand down to massage his painful, throbbing cock. Knows that Steve is watching him as he leers at his entrance begging for more, clenching something so unsatisfied at his own two fingers. Without warning, Billy slicks up his own fingers with spit and plunges them inside along with Steve's own two digits.

“Fuck, ahh!” Steve cries out and arches his back, “Your fingers are so thick.”

At a pace set by Billy, they dive in and out, stretching him together, and Billy sees it fit to spit right on him, lubing him up a bit more and moves faster as he intently listens to how Steve is moaning and calling out for more, harder, deeper.

“Jesus Harrington, you're so fucking insatiable...” Billy looks down at where Steve's eyes are closed tightly, knitted with pleasure, mouth wide open to let out all these delicious noises. “Such a slut,” Billy drawls, and is convinced that Steve's ass clenches a bit tighter at that word. Slut. “So hungry for my fat cock, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve whines and nods profusely, opening his eyes finally to catch cold waters meeting his gaze immediately. “Please,” he begs.

And as Billy pulls out his fingers, so does Steve, who brings both hands down to clutch at the bed sheets, his breathing shaky with anticipation, his prick drooling all over the blue covers.

“Lube and condoms in the top drawer, there,” he pants and points to the bedside table.

Where Billy is quick to yank it open and grabs both in one hand; his other continuously stroking himself through the trunks that are suffocating him, knowing that if he didn't keep that barrier of fabric in place, he'd blow far too soon from just the sight of Steve being so damn horny and needy.

“Can't wait to fill you up so good, princess,” he huffs as he slips on the condom.

Steve shakes his ass in a taunting manner with a lazy smile, and Billy can't help but laugh lightly at it, then brings his hand across one cheek, and-

“A-ah!” Steve moans out and presses his face deeper into the duvet.

And the grin that cracks across Billy's handsome features is awfully telling.

“I'm gonna fuck you so hard, baby, you won't be able to walk or sit straight for month,” he growls and licks his lips. “When I'm done with you, no other guy in Hawkins will be able to make you cum as good, won't satisfy you the same way I do.”

The cap of the lube pops open, and Billy slicks up two fingers, then promptly pushes them inside to lather Steve's ass up, who whines impatiently and moves his hips against the broad digits.

“Please, Billy,” voice all pathetic, “Just fuck me already.”

“Mmm patience,” Billy coos as he removes himself again, “Don't wanna hurt you by going in too dry.”

He covers his steely erection in a spirited amount of lube, excessively so as he strokes himself through the condom, and then goes to line up with Steve's fluttering hole, gasping, aching to be full. Pushes inside with nary a hint of kindness, bottoming out in one headlong swoop, leaving Steve moaning out long, and Billy grabs on with both hands to quell all motion between them, as he revels in how tight Steve is, how he's sucking him in.

“Oh fuck, Billy,” Steve keens and tries to move, but stern hands keeps him locked in place. “You're so big.”

“Yeah, I know,” Billy chuckles out like rumbling thunder in his chest.

Hands move off of Steve's hips to go grab two fistfuls of soft ass, where he spreads the cheeks as far apart as they can go, as to get a good and proper look at how his girthy cock is sunk deep inside, watches how the rim clench around him with a hunger to be thoroughly fucked. And at a pace menacingly slow, Billy pulls out, feels how every muscle clings to him like he's the most important thing in the world right now, and Steve whines as if it's true, too.

He keeps his stare there, watching with great interest as he moves till just his fat head remains inside, then shoves right back in, receiving the most vivid and alluring cry of his name from Steve's pretty pink lips.

“Billy- fuck, ah-” Steve moans with no inhibition as Billy sets a brutal pace of pulling out just to snap his hips back against Steve's exposed ass.

Skin slaps louder than the music downstairs, accompanied well by the squelching of Steve's dripping wet hole and his lascivious singing of praises and curses; the bed concurring with slight creaks. Steve arches his back in the most gorgeous curve, a pose with his plump ass raised with such expertise it shows just how often he's found himself like this, yet still calls out as if it's his first.

“Shit, princess, harrh, for being such a slut you sure keep tight,” Billy groans out as he slams his veiny cock into the most fantastic velvet heat.

A warmth that stirs perfectly at the base of his dick, waves of it washing down his thighs as he continues to chase his own high with the most ferocious will.

He bends forward, driving himself as deep as physically possible, and brings one hand down onto the back of Steve's neck, squeezing and pressing him into the bed.

“Yes- yes! Ah-” Steve croons like a bitch in heat, eyes rolling back, hands seeking for something to grab on to.

And Billy barks a laugh at how lost Steve becomes, how indignant and uncontrolled his voice becomes.

“You like it rough, huh bitch?” Billy growls like a wild hound, baring his canines and licking across the sharpness there, his thrusts rapid. “Like it when a real man fucks you?”

“Yes,” Steve chokes out, oh so pliant and dazed.

“Mmnh, hah, feel so good inside baby, sucking me in- my thick cock splitting you open.” Billy grazes his teeth across where he can reach on Steve's shoulder.

The response a whine, high pitched and erotic, and Steve reaches for himself-

But his wrist is quickly grabbed by Billy's other hand, pinning it above Steve's head; now most of Billy's heavy body weight pressing onto his neck, and his body tenses tighter.

“Fuck, ah,” Billy grunts as he feels muscles clasp around him like a vice. “Why don't you show me how beautiful you look cumming on my dick alone?”

“Billy,” Steve moans in a telling way of how close he is, and of how helpless he is. “I'm- I'm close-”

“Yeah you are.” Billy grins and bucks his hips all cruel and ruthless; wants Steve to remember this, to maybe be a bit sore after, cheeks red and ass puffy, throat sore from overuse. Want hims to know that absolutely no one else is ever going to make him nearly scream like this. “You're such an easy little whore, Stevie.”

“I am, ah- shit-” Steve admits readily, mumbles something more in agreeance, but all Billy can make out is his own name being called for again and again in tandem with his girthy cock hitting all the right spots.

It barely takes more than that before Steve's cumming; shooting hot and white all over his expensive sheets, body tensing up to a choking point that pulls Billy closer, the tightness unparalleled by any pussy he's ever been this deep in.

“Fuck that's hot,” his voice dripping with lust thick as honey.

“Don't- don't stop, please,” Steve's voice barely there, fucked out and hoarse, body going limp as he whines at the delicious overstimulation.

“Oh yeah, pretty boy? Want me to-” Billy gasps as he can barely manage words as he slams hard against Steve's worn ass, desperately clenching around him, and he stands up fully, plants his feet and digs his nails into fleshy hips. “-Want me to use you? Like a fucking toy?”

“Yes! Yes, Billy, fuck me-”

The wet slapping of skin in perfect harmony with Steve moaning a whole ballad, brings Billy to his blinding climax, forcing a stutter to his hips as he slams home hard enough for Steve to move up the bed, and he calls out with no restraint as his throbbing cock pulsates and kicks; draining him of all heat and energy into the condom buried deep in Steve's desirous hole.

As adrenaline seeps out, exhaustion comes in and he slumps forward, shoving at Steve's shoulder to keep him in place as he twitches and goes soft. Chest heaving, curls sticking to his neck and forehead, thighs sore from a good days work. He rubs the space between Steve's shoulder blades with a firm thumb, who hums pleasantly between equally exhausted pants.

But Billy has to pull out, takes off the condom and ties it neatly, before collapsing next to Steve on the bed.

And Steve rolls on to his side, rests his warm palm on sweaty pecks, smiling all satisfied and admiring the view of Billy's spent dick. “You did good, tiger... think you can go another round?”

Billy snorts abruptly – he can barely keep his eyes open right now. “Are you serious?”

Steve climbs right on top of him, landing with his own impressive cock side by side with Billy's vastly shorter, but definitely thicker, dick. He rocks back and forth all lazy like, sighing with a definite promise of more.

But Billy winces with a sharp inhale and reaches down to stop the motion of those pale hips on top. “Fuck- stop! I'm spent, go find some other hole to fulfill your needs.”

“Hmm...” Steve thinks about something, but climbs off never the less. “I'm gonna give you fifteen minutes, and if you're still to weak after that I can easily find someone else.”

He's quick to get dressed again, leaving Billy to feel, yes, weak and perhaps a bit piteous, sprawled out on King Steve's bed, a mess of sweat next to a pool of semen, yet Steve steps up to him and leans down.

“But,” he coos softly and smiles just so, “If you ever want to do this again, or something else, I can make room for you in my busy schedule.”

And Steve kisses Billy on the lips, making the poorer guy immediately desire more, but as Steve pulls away again, Billy continues to feel defeated and impossibly exhausted.

The last thing he notices before dozing off is the bedroom door closing.

#Harringrove #Lemon #My Writing #request #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Anonymous

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keiziahknight1886 · 4 years

Text

Change

[Change (A Connor x Reader story based on Detroit: Become Human)]

MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR Hey, it's Kei! I'm so excited to start and write this story since I had the idea! First off, shout out to my good sis @findart.me (https://www.instagram.com/findart.me/?hl=en) for going through this adventure with me and for making these covers!! Omg it was so hard to choose but I chose the one I liked the most HAHAHA.

I'm in love with Detroit: Become Human and so I became DBH trash lol. I had been looking for fanfics about DBH, specifically Connor since I'm in love with the smol bean. There are a lot of stories about Connor and I love each and every one of them and I've seen the trope of being Hank's daughter and the more I read I wanted something more that I don't think I've seen yet. I mean I have seen something similar but not completely the plot that I was looking for so I decided to write my own.

Keep in mind, I have no idea about some of the details in the story like how police work actually work so I just trusted google with the research lol so please don't pay attention to the wrong things since it is just a fanfiction and I'm not the best at writing.

I'll be pushing to write all of this in the same canon of the game but with the inclusion of reader since there are more paths and whatnot and just- basically I'm adding canon and non canon stuff together so-

SPOILER ALERT!!! I want to make it as real game as possible so that we can have that feeling that it's not too far from the game and it could actually exist, I don't know if you guys get me but I want this to be as close to game reality as possible so that we could really feel close to Connor and the other characters. Now keep in mind that I just went through the game like only a few times (I have yet to complete it a hundred percent because God knows that take HOURS like omg one chapter is like 4-7 hours of replay) so as detailed of this as I want I may get some things wrong. Anyway that's enough about me, feel free to comment as much as you like if there are mistakes and hope you guys enjoy the Detroit: Change experience! Note: *The reader will be female *Mostly on 2nd person, rotating between Connor and reader *I copied some of the texts from the original game's script to make it more immersive, please don't clock me on that lol *I already finished the story but I'll be posting them daily for pacing and checking purposes. *Major credits to the original creators, I can only take credit for the plot and story itself but as for the characters that will be use on this story they solely belong to their owners.

Prologue

xX0Xx

Y/n Anderson is her name.

She grew up in a loving environment and she loved her family more than anything. She grew up with a lot of love from her parents but she was particularly a daddy's girl, holding him high up on a pedestal and hoping to one day achieve as many great things as him.

She looked up to her father who was top of his class and was also a valedictorian, he was a very intelligent and talented man and so she wanted to follow in his footsteps. That, and he constantly spoiled her and showered her with love and gifts that sometimes her mother says it's too much.

Because of her desire to make her father proud she studied and worked hard to pass every exam she could and when the time came for her to take the exam for Criminology she passed with flying colors, both parents couldn't be prouder.

It was one of the happiest moments in Y/n's 18 years of life and she had another reason to celebrate because her parents had just announced that her mother was yet again pregnant and that she was going to finally have a little sibling.

She believed she had it all and couldn't have been more content with her life. Her years had been filled with love and laughter and when her younger brother came into their world their family became even better. Their family even got bigger when they got Sumo, the fluffy giant Saint Bernard, for one of her brother's birthdays.

Y/n's life was good, she was a great student and also graduated a valedictorian like her father and when she started working with him at the same precinct in the Detroit Police Department, she felt pride in herself and of course, her father was proud of her as well.

He made it known to just about everyone there what his daughter achieved and although it was embarrassing she was still happy. She loved her job of fighting crime, helping people, and saving lives.

But all that happiness ended when a series of unfortunate events took her brother's life, the one life that mattered to her the most, the one life she couldn't save.

An accident cost the life of her brother, this changed her life and perfect family into a living disaster.

Her father, whom she looked up to, decided to turn to alcohol to remedy the pain. Her mother had had enough of her father's drinking problem and his sometimes downright horrible attitude on top of the tragedy and it ultimately broke them apart.

When the divorce happened it left her in the middle, broken and lost.

Years passed by and her relationship with her parents deteriorated, still, she continued working at the same precinct as her father and stayed with him in fear that if he was truly left alone something bad would happen. Early on, her father showed signs of depression and her mother couldn't seem to handle it so she took it upon herself as the eldest daughter to look after him. She went with him when her parents decided to sell their house after the divorce and although the house he got wasn't the best she stayed with him.

When he would drink himself to the brink of alcohol poisoning she was there in the hospital waiting for him to get better, she had been nothing but patient when he would lash out at her and yell out hurtful words and she would be the one to apologize to whoever it was that his father pissed off.

What really drove her to yell at him was when she found out one night that he had been playing Russian roulette. She screamed and cried and he screamed in turn, not caring that his only daughter was crying over his actions. This went on to the early morning until Y/n finally had enough. She locked herself in her room silently crying while her father slammed the front door shut to get drunk somewhere other than home.

This was when their relationship finally broke.

Y/n still stayed at their home but would go out early and return when she knew her father wouldn't be home, she avoided him at all cost but would also watch over him when he was passed out drunk or just too tired to even get to bed.

Even at the precinct, she would make sure to avoid him by taking more assignments and never being in the same area for more than a few minutes at a time.

Her father didn't seem to mind, in fact, he didn't even show a smidge of regret or sadness and that hurt her even more. She had hoped that after a few days of it being like that he would come up to her and apologize but days turned into weeks and then into months.

It had been three years since her brother passed, three years since her parents seemed to have lost care for her, three long years of her father forgetting that he had another child that had done nothing but love and care for him. Y/n's life changed and even though she was trying to pull her life together nothing seemed to be changing for the better.

-------

AUG 15TH, 2038 PM 08:45:29

"Ma'am it's okay, I've just heard that the situation is under control." The soothing voice of a woman spoke as the sounds of sirens, helicopters, and yelling echoed around the area.

Lights of red and blue shone as the woman with a soothing voice slowly pats the back of another woman who looked ragged and is having a panic attack.

The woman had h/l h/c hair and was wearing a black bomber jacket, tight dark blue pants, and combat boots. Her badge was attached to her hip and it signified her position as a police detective.

"It's not okay! They sent an android to save my daughter!"

"Detective Anderson, we've got a new report." an officer spoke up and Y/n sighed.

"Lay it on me."

"The negotiator was successful, the girl's safe."

Y/n smiled and looked at the woman who was now looking at them and crying in relief.

"I'll go check on your daughter, please stay here and I'll make sure to bring her to you."

"Please... Please make sure my baby is safe." she sobbed and Y/n gave her another pat.

Detective Y/n Anderson, age 27, was one of the people who responded to the hostage situation since she was around the area patrolling with officers Deckart and Wilson, they were just having a chat when it happened. At that time, the three of them rushed into the scene after Y/n called for backup and there they met the android who shot

its owner and was taking a little girl hostage.

They had a standoff and Deckart was shot dead in the living room. She tried to negotiate with it with Wilson but the mother of the girl was screaming which had added stress to the situation. When it went to the outside, Wilson followed while Y/n tried to stop the mother from going further.

She continued to stop the mother from moving and potentially endangering herself, she heard another gunshot from outside along with a yell of pain and when she looked, the android was now on the edge while Wilson's body laid on the ground.

When the SWAT team finally arrived, Y/n had briefed the captain, Allen, about the situation and she was given the task to help secure the area downstairs.

After hearing that the situation had finally been defused, Y/n made her way up but not before noticing a taxi leaving the area. She looked at it in confusion for a bit since taxis shouldn't have been allowed in the area but disregarded it.

When she was upstairs, the SWAT team was clearing up and she went straight to the crying girl being treated by one of the medics. Y/n kneeled down in front of the girl and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Hey, there little one, my name's Detective Y/n Anderson and your mom sent me. You're going to be okay now, I'll take you down when you're done getting patched up, okay?" she smiled softly at the girl who sniffled and nodded.

"How's downstairs, Anderson?"

She turned to look at Captain Allen who looked less tense than when she first saw him tonight, she gave him a soft smile and a salute.

"Captain, all's well and handled downstairs. Great work up here."

"Yeah well, that piece of plastic gave us more trouble than its worth." Allen frowned and glanced at the little girl.

"You managed to convince it though, that's less innocent lives tonight."

"Yeah, well... We didn't do the convincing. Cyberlife sent this detective android in."

"A detective android?" Y/n raised an eyebrow and slightly tilted her head, she's never heard of a detective android before.

"Yeah, the thing managed to do the job but if they make more of that thing it'll be trouble for us."

"Well, let's hope it's a one-time thing then. Cyberlife probably just wanted to remedy their own problem."

"Yeah, well here's to hoping I don't see it again."

"She's done." the medic spoke up which got both of their attentions.

"You taking her?" Allen asked and Y/n nodded.

"Yep, told her mother I'd make sure she was safe."

"I'll leave her to you before we process things then."

"You got it."

Y/n gave a small salute to Allen who just gave a tiny chuckle and patted her shoulder in return. It wasn't a secret that Y/n was a talented detective, she was talented in many areas and, in turn. she's made friends and connections within the force. Most people liked her and those who really knew about her situation pitted her and hopes that she had a better life than she did now.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you to momma."

Y/n extended her hand towards the girl and she took her hand, the little girl was still shaking but she seemed to have relaxed a little after Y/n squeezed her hand.

"What's your name?"

"Emma." the little girl answered quietly and she could understand why.

"Well, Emma, I'm going to make sure you and you're mom are taken care of."

-------

After the exhausting day she had, Y/n finally got home. She was dead tired and she could feel her eyes closing as she entered the house. A loud bark was heard as she entered and she couldn't help but giggle and pet the big fluffy dog that walked towards her.

"Hey there, Sumo. Sorry but Y/n's a little tired right now." she spoke softly as she patted the dog's head.

Sumo walked over to the couch and when she followed her eyes landed on her father who was passed out on the couch, again.

Y/n sighed before removing her jacket and putting it on the table where she saw the picture frame of her brother facing down, she frowned and shook her head and went to pick her father up. As she moved, she accidentally kicked a bottle on the floor and she looked at it in disgust.

"Be quiet while I move him okay, bud?"

Sumo whimpered softly before going to his own little doggie space and laying down. Y/n, who was already used to this, grabbed her father and slung his arm around her shoulder.

"Move." she groaned.

It felt like it took forever to move her father but when she finally placed him on the bed she took off his shoes and socks and covered him with a blanket. She looked at him one last time before leaving for her own bed.

When she finally laid down she felt almost everything shut down, she didn't even care if she hasn't changed, all she wanted now was to sleep.

As Y/n's eyes fluttered close to accept the sweet release of slumber, a loud alarm sounded and she jumped off of the bed. She looked around with adrenaline coursing through her and when she looked at her alarm clock it was already time for work again.

"Agh!" she let out a scream of frustration before throwing herself to the bed again.

Y/n laid down on her bed before ultimately decided to get up again for a shower and fresh change of clothes, begrudgingly getting ready for another workday ahead.

xX0Xx Chapter One

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human connor x reader #connor #rk800 #x reader #reader insert #connor x reader #dbh connor #reader is an anderson #hank anderson #rk800 connor

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volganic · 4 years

Text

Song of Awakening

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] || [AO3] || [discord]

i didnt mean to take two months to update but ive been playing among us and now i have ideas for an among us au that i’ll never write

“I have to go back to the woods!”

“Absolutely not.”

They spent the better half of the morning bickering with each other: Link needed to complete his mission — the sole reason for leaving the castle — and Volga wouldn’t allow it. The dragon argued he was unconvinced that Link’s grief had fully passed for his fallen comrades; a wandering mind would only land him into more trouble if he wasn’t careful. Pinks and oranges of the early dawn bled into blue, and Link was growing impatient with Volga’s stubbornness. He folded his arms and stared the dragon down.

“I’m going back.”

“I won’t allow it.”

“I’m flattered that you think I need your protection, but I really don’t,” Link huffed. “If I don’t finish my tasks in Faron Woods, even you can’t protect me from the general’s wrath.”

“I would never keep you from your duties as the hero, but you are no hero yet,” Volga snapped. He rose from his seat with his spear in hand, drawing closer to take his turn to intimidate his smaller companion. “One Manhandla sapling is of no danger to you or your army — let it sprout. You are lying. There’s nothing in those woods for you except another death wish.”

The Hylian refused to listen, bristling in his spot. “That’s where you’re wrong, Volga. There’s something else in there too, and after I kill the sapling, I’m going to find it.”

“Then I shall accompany you—”

“No!” Link put his foot down to interrupt Volga from spouting out another excuse or insult. “I can handle it alone from here. If I can’t do it, it only goes to show that maybe I’m not worth bearing the Triforce. I have to prove myself worthy.”

Their eyes fell downward to Link’s gauntlet. Where Link might have considered the outcome of his last venture into the woods as cowardice, Volga saw it as means to survive. The Triforce was a sign of status; if this was how Link wanted to prove (to nobody but his goddesses) himself as worthy, Volga could allow it.

The spear in his grip slackened. With a grumble, he spoke. “Very well. If it puts your mind at ease, I will honor your decision.”

Link’s posture relaxed as his face broke into a sheepish smile. Maybe he’d win a lot of arguments from this point on if he used this excuse. He adjusted the holster holding his blade behind his back. “I’ll hold you to it; don’t think I forgot how you managed to sneak up on me last time.”

Volga turned away and grunted in response.

“Hey now,” the Hylian approached, placing a tentative hand on Volga’s arm, “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I also need supplies from the village below. As much as I like suffocating against your dragon body at night, I think I can manage a night of sleep with a decent bedroll!” Volga shot him a glare. Link smiled a bit wider, but his expression softened. “In all seriousness, thank you. You’re really a great friend.”

Link gave the dragon’s limb a quick and gentle squeeze — a wordless promise to return when his mind was clear.

——

The sun had yet to reach its highest point when the Hylian managed to enter the deepest part of the grove. The environment was serene, peaceful — a little too quiet for his liking. There were dangerous creatures that lived in these woods, he knew, and to not even hear the song of a bird or the buzz of an insect’s wings through the air perturbed him. The only sounds that reached his ears were the leaves rustling against the breeze with the occasional sound of twigs and gravel being crushed under his boots.

The wooden bridge that led to an old Hyrulean outpost creaked underneath his weight, threatening to give out from the lack of use. It was useful back when he and Impa had led their small brigade when they had first encountered Lana, but the lack of upkeep since those few months had left the fortress withered and decaying, succumbing to the depths of the forest. Even if it had been months ago, the magic that lived in this place left it looking as if it hadn’t been used in centuries.

Careful to cross the bridge through the other side of the outpost and to another keep, Link found what he was looking for — sort of. A Manhandla sapling in bloom lay in the center of the clearing where sunlight could seep through the branches overhead. Upon closer inspection, Link found that the bud itself had been ripped cleanly out of the plant. He took his sword in hand and approached it even closer, leery of finding it in hiding. The tip of his blade poked and prodded and turned the leaves over to find any evidence of the carnivorous creature.

From the looks of it, either someone had done his job for him, killing the Manhandla sprout — or someone was bold enough to pluck it while in its sapling stage and grow it elsewhere.

While he was no botanist, the Hylian knew that it had to come to either of those outcomes; Manhandla in its sprouting stages weren’t mobile yet at this size. His mouth fell into a puzzled frown. Mission accomplished? As an added measure, Link staked the tip of the Magical Sword into the ground underneath where the Manhandla should have been, uprooting it from the earth. It wouldn’t hurt to make sure there's no chance of another one growing in its place, he thought, covering his nose and mouth with the folds of his scarf as his heels dug into and tore the leaves of the plant, cautious of its toxic dust.

Now it was mission accomplished.

——

The doors to the fairy fountain deep were heavy as Link pushed them to open. Clearly they haven’t been used since Farore knows when, kudzu and overgrowth nearly sealing the doors shut. If it weren’t for his sense of direction leading him astray from the forest path, fear of getting lost in these mysterious woods, and the crumbling staircase leading him there, he would’ve never found it.

The air inside the fountain was... different. It smelled wet, but held a crisp clean air about it as if unbothered by time outside of its doors, even with the scuffle with evil forces not so long ago. The Hylian tentatively stepped inside with sword in hand, half-expecting to be ambushed by something. Or someone. He couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching him as he moved to the middle of the room, watching for any shadows that moved behind the stained glass window on the fountain’s wall. When there was no promise of a threat, Link sheathed his weapon and approached the edge of the fountain. Despite the withered and crumbling rock around the edge, numerous flowers floated across the water as if they were freshly picked.

Strange, he thought. Rumor had it that the Great Fairies often made themselves known to those of pure in mind and soul – something he would definitely argue he possessed. His ears picked up the faintest echo of a woman laughing, but paid it no mind – whoever it was, she was too far away for him to consider her an immediate threat. Delicately Link splashed his hand in the water, pulling some of the flowers toward his direction. The tips of his fingers barely grazed its petals before the water in the fountain began bubbling.

Uh oh.

Link staggered backwards as a torrential wave of water erupted from the shallow water of the fountain. An infectious and jovial laugh assaulted his ears and a large shadow obscured the streaks of sunlight that poured the window. He felt dazed for only a moment, clothing soaking wet from the eruption and the water that dripped from the ceiling before he lay witness to a rather giant woman now in front of him. She studied him with a sultry eye and hummed pleasantly.

“O, hero of Hyrule,” she cooed, beckoning him with a manicured finger, “come into my fountain! Don’t be shy.”

His face flushed in embarrassment with the sudden realization that this was the Great Fairy. He never expected her to be not only outrageously “tall”, but voluptuous and seductive; the stories he had heard from merchants who had set up shop outside of the castle walls about the fairies did her no justice. Link pushed himself up and brushed off any rubble (he had to look at least somewhat decent in front of a lady) and obeyed, stepping over the edge of the fountain into its cool waters. Immediately whatever worry that lingered in his body seemed to wash away much more effectively than the springs on Death Mountain.

“What brings you here, my hero?” The Great Fairy invited him to sit closer to her. Link inched over and brought his hands up to sign. She leaned forward and delicately pushed his hands down. “There’s no need for that,” she winked. “I know what gifts the goddesses have bestowed upon you, and your secret is safe with me.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but quickly quashed it. Inhale, exhale. “How do you know about it?”

“Oh, my love,” she laughed cheerfully, “I know many things. I might be the closest thing to Hylia herself! It’s a wonder that people pray and come to me for guidance.” The Fairy stretched out on her stomach, hovering only inches above the water and giving her undivided attention to her guest. “I know that the guardian of Eldin is the one to have awakened your divine gift, and that he is keeping a close eye on you as your mentor. I can only hope that he continues to treat you well.”

Link sighed wearily at the mention of his friend — Volga would have easily objected to coming into any fairy fountain. “He does… in his own way.” A pause. “Do you know anything more about him?”

The Great Fairy chuckled softly. “That I am not inclined to say, dear hero.” Link then decided she knew more than she was letting on if she knew that they were friends in the first place. “You’ve come to seek me for guidance, have you not?” she asked, changing the subject. “How may I be of service?”

“Do you know anything about the witch, Cia? And Lana? What are their goals? What can I expect?” The Great Fairy cupped her hand under the water to slowly pour it over his head, sensing his unease. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck, shivering with the feeling of the cool water trickling down his collar as it alleviated his nerves slightly to prepare him for any life-changing revelations. “Do you think I’m prepared enough to take the role of the legendary hero?”

“My love,” she began, “I offer guidance and assistance, not opinions or visions of the future. I cannot tell you exactly what you must do to fully prepare yourself for the coming battle. I will be here to assist you when you need me the most in your most dire hour. What the goddesses have intended for you is out of my control. Your fate is in their hands.”

Link feared for the worst, expression growing downcast with the answers he was given. “However,” she interrupted, “I can tell you that it is more than admirable that you have come so far in your ordeals. You make a fine hero as you are now. I have no doubt that you will do only the best for Hyrule… even if you are grounded on his mountain.” She winked, her pink lips spreading into a sincere smile. Link could only smile back feeling how infectious hers was.

“Thank you.”

“Always a pleasure,” she purred, reaching out to affectionately prod his cheek. The Great Fairy then rolled onto her back, dramatically throwing an arm over her face. “You must go now if there’s nothing more I can do to assist you, as much as I’d love to keep you here for myself. Your soul is bound to another, after all.”

Link felt his cheeks burn with the thought that the Great Fairy – the Great Fairy! – had found him appealing, but shook those thoughts out of his mind. Of course, legend always had found the hero bound to the princess. At least, it always presented itself that way. It wasn’t a destiny he would have personally chosen for himself, as he hasn’t had much interaction with Princess Zelda in the first place, but if the goddesses dictated it, so be it. As long as he served for Hyrule, he would serve for her. He stood silently and stepped out of the fountain with that in mind.

“You will find your other half in the most unlikely of times, my love — in fact, you might have found it already!” she exclaimed suddenly when Link neared the entrance. He blinked and turned to look at her to ask what she meant, but she cut him off. “Please, do not hesitate to come see me again. It gets awfully lonely here.”

The Great Fairy made her exit with a dive and a splash into the short pool of water, laughing all the while. Link turned away to save himself from getting drenched again, finding that the woman was indeed gone, nothing but freshly picked flowers and a few silent fairies fluttering over the water’s edge in her wake.

——

“Massster! Human isss back! He bringsss thingsss!”

Volga turned away from the ores he had been attending to when the sound of the younger Lizalfos scouts pattering after their chieftain echoed off the rock walls. Their arms were filled with items that definitely had no place in his caves. He grumbled at the sight; Link might have been simple at first glance, but the items he had gathered in excess proved that he was going to be a pain in Volga’s side.

“Where is he now?”

“Bottom of mountain! Climbing ssslowly!”

“He may be a friend to our clan, but he will not treat you like his dogs,” he scowled, gesturing for them to drop whatever items Link had pushed onto them to the side. The scouts obeyed without a second wasted while their chieftain apprehensively drew to Volga’s side.

“He asssk nicely. We help.”

“The boy is more capable of carrying his own rubbish up the mountain.” Volga’s frown remained. The chieftain stood patiently for any more orders. The dragon released a drawn out sigh and waved his kin away. “You have my leave to go. I will take care of the rest.”

With the clear dismissal, the chieftain scurried off further into the chambers of the caves, leaving Volga with his hoard of ores — and Link’s hoard of belongings. The dragon turned to the discarded items with a look of disgust. He left his own pile to sift through Link’s things; what on earth could he possibly need? Underneath the pile of clothes including his green tunic, there were a number of small bottles of potions, larger flasks of fragrant soups and broth, a few rupees here and there, a mirror — useless, useless things!

“What are you doing?”

Volga turned back to the entrance of the cavern. Link stood there with an incredulous expression having caught the dragon red-handed going through his things. He looked so different outside of his uniforms, clad only in a longer sleeved shirt that made him look like someone he wasn’t: someone lost; someone vulnerable; someone who shouldn’t be within his domain. Volga carelessly tossed the small mirror back into the pile. “You’re able to handle yourself, so why, I wonder, you use my kin to transport your rubbish up the mountain, I’m curious. Clearly it wasn’t worth the time.”

Link’s mouth formed a small frown. “If I’m offered help, I’m not gonna turn it down.” He pushed the sleeves up of his shirt up to his elbows and pushed through Volga to tend to the bottles. As callous as they were treated, none of them were broken. “I could have brought more, you know.”

“Essentials, I understand and commend you for. The mirror, however, is excessive.”

“Old habits die hard,” said the Hylian with a small hum in his voice. “I like mirrors. Appearances are important to keep up within the castle walls: I can’t act my part as a captain if I don’t look like one.” Carefully he picked up the round mirror and looked himself over in it. He couldn’t bring himself to look for too long; his hair was in disarray and dark circles began to form around his eyes from lack of proper sleep or rest; the exact opposite image of a hero.

“If you have the strength to uphold your title, appearances mean nothing. As battered and broken as you look now, I’m well aware of what you are capable of.” The dragon strode back over to his own belongings, taking one long glance at the ores in their respective pails. He had more than enough to trade. “It’s well into the evening. You need to rest.”

Link nodded in agreement. “I also told you I’d bring my own bedroll. The caves are a little warm for me, and it’s not too cold out—”

“Sleeping outside?” Volga asked. “To leave yourself exposed? I think not.”

“You’re free to follow if you want, but I’ve already made up my mind,” Link announced, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck and tucking his bundle underneath his arm as he made his way back outside. The rest of his belongings wouldn’t move anywhere. It took a good amount of restraint not to laugh when he heard Volga’s heavy footsteps following him a few paces away, but that didn’t stop him from smiling at his companion when he found a decent spot to settle down. “I take it you’ve never slept outside of the caves?”

“Why would I?” he bit back, crossing his arms over his chest to brave himself from the gentle breeze tickling his cheek. The temperature wasn’t at its lowest yet; Link really was a fool if he thought only a blanket and scarf were enough. “They offer all the protection you could need.”

“That’s true, but only if you’re either a dragon or have the means to survive in the heat.” Even with the fireshield earrings, the caves provided a little too much warmth. Waking up feeling uncomfortably sticky from sweat wasn’t necessarily pleasant. “I’ve never thanked you properly for the earrings before, but you nearly burned my ear off when I had the chance. So thanks for that, too.” Link’s face twisted into a pout at the memory, but it didn’t stop him from patting the grass next to him to invite the dragon closer. “At least here outside you can see the sky.”

“And that leaves you exposed to the elements, too, boy,” Volga said with a tone that clearly painted him as annoyed. Regardless, Link took satisfaction when the dragon made an effort to humor him by taking the spot next to him at least an arm’s length away. The dragon removed his helmet and held it to his chest as he laid down. It felt strange being so close to home, yet so far away, left vulnerable to the bitter cold that crept underneath every crevice of his armor. A puff of smoke left his lips to try and regulate his body temperature. The sound of Link shuffling around in his bedroll couldn’t drown out his amusement. “Is there something you find funny?”

“No.” Though the scarf around his neck concealed most of the Hylian’s face, it was obvious that he was lying. Volga held his stare, but turned away when it was clear that Link wasn’t going to budge. This was stupid. He couldn’t fathom why he continued to play in Link’s games, but he never had also expected to take him under his wing. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, but keeping Link so close seemed to soothe it, and, despite the immaturity he displayed more often than he should, the Hylian was slowly fitting into his hero role. That enough was satisfactory.

“Have you ever been to the village below?”

Volga’s eyes remained closed. “No. I have no interest in mingling among those beneath me.”

“Do you even have friends?” Link propped himself up on his arms. “And before you say your scouts or chieftains, they don’t count. I mean anyone outside your tribe.”

“I have you,” Volga said, “but sometimes I wonder if I’ve made a poor choice in keeping you as a friend.” He tilted his head and cracked an eye open, knowing full well that his comment would strike a nerve. In a huff, Link turned over and pulled the covers up to his ears. It was Volga’s turn to laugh quietly. “I have you, and I have ties with the Goron Patriarch. I wouldn’t have as grand of a collection without him.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that one.” Link turned onto his back. “It wouldn’t hurt to expand your horizons. I heard that merchants are supposed to stop by and trade in the village tomorrow.”

“I’d rather not. They have nothing I could possibly want.”

“Now you’re just being a killjoy, Volga.” Link chided with a yawn. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Enough.”

“Oh, come on—”

“No,” he interrupted, “I mean to say ‘I’m old enough’. I doubt you would believe me should I reveal my true age to you, which is why ‘enough’ should be a sufficient answer.” Volga let the words hang in the air for a moment for Link to absorb it, followed by, “You should be resting, boy, not spewing whatever thoughts are bouncing around in your mind with answers you can’t comprehend. With your duties to your army fulfilled, we resume ours in the morning.”

“One more question?” Before being given the chance to be shot down, the Hylian asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

The dragon remained silent. Of all things, that’s what he wanted to know? Whether it was out there to annoy him, or purely out of innocence, Volga didn’t know — and didn’t know how to answer it himself. As a dragon, instinct had told him to curb the favoritism to ward off those with prying eyes, as thieves were around every bend to steal whatever he coveted most. As for favorites, he realized then he didn’t have many — a favorite weapon? A favorite meal? A favorite song? — much less narrowed down to a specific color. He lived in a world painted in reds and oranges and yellows and greens with splashes of golds and silvers and a bioluminescent blue, but none of it appealed to him.

Volga craned his neck to look back at Link, unsure of how to answer and unsure of how Link would react, only to find that either he had taken too much time mulling over his response, or the Hylian was more exhausted than they had initially thought. Link had succumbed to the fierce grip of sleep. Under the covers of his bedroll, Volga could see Link’s chest rising and falling, his breaths light and evenly spaced; finally at peace. Without the expanse of the ocean staring back at him waiting expectantly for an answer, clarity had struck through Volga, and he knew his answer. The words poured out just above a whisper:

“I’m fond of the color blue.”

#hyrule warriors #volink #YEAAAAAA #fic

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nctzendreamz · 4 years

Text

Psycho — Bae Joohyun

Irene really, really loves you. Too much, you begin to realize.

Warnings: Psychotic!Au, mentions of abuse, murder, language, and in general dark themes.

Word Count: 7k

January 16, 2020 — 9:45PM

She might as well have been a celebrity, as she was the key reason that this coffee shop got visitors. Her silky smooth skin, complimented by her sparkling eyes and perfect build was everything the masses needed to get up early in the mornings before work.

She couldn’t count all the numbers she had recieved in just the couple of months she had been employed at Velvets; the coffee shop that rested in the center of the city. It’s red and pink decor, followed by the hand crafted decorations from so many visitors in the past, was exactly where Bae Joohyun, more frequently referred to as Irene belonged.

She always had the same greeting. It was in the protocol, after all.

“Hello! Welcome to Velvet’s. How are you doing today?”

And today is no different. She always tries her best to look right at the customer as soon as she hears the familiar bell, indicating the door had opened, but her nail was chipping, and it was driving her nuts. She says her line, still fiddling before she realizes that it can’t be fixed until later.

“I’m so sorry! It’s been a long—“

And then she stops. She has seen a million people come and go to her place of work. Most of them found her beauty to be enchanting, but even the finest of them could barely make her blink. No matter how hard they tried to merge the conversation onto dinner, or what she was doing after her shift, her facial expression stayed the same—dull and unimpressed.

But you. You’re standing here in all of your glory, hair perfectly sculpted to your face. She loves this look on you. It’s the perfect color to compliment your perfect skin, and daring eyes as they swallow her whole. Usually, she did this to others, yet here you were, snatching her soul—seemingly without even trying.

“A long day.” She finally breaths out. Her heart is racing at a dangerous pace, and she knows she looks like a creep right now. Her dark eyes are trying to break you down, and bring you to your knees, but it’s not working.

“I understand that.” You giggle. You seem tired. The bags under your eyes are slight, but still drooped enough to which she can tell you’re either a student, or you work a nine to five. Regardless, you’re not always free. Your clothing is simple. Sweats, a hoodie, and some ugg boots to shield you from the cold weather. “Your nails are so cute, by the way.” You smile, and it’s calming. It’s not a full on cheese session, but that makes it even better. It’s simple, just as you seem to be.

“Don’t flatter me.” She begins, showing them to you in full form over the marble counter. “It’s chipped.”

“And still cute.” You assure, smoothly moving a sole finger across the nail. “Is it gel polish?” You question with an adorable head tilt. Absolutely priceless. You’re probably very good at getting what you want. You know exactly how to move, and lighten your voice to make people feel what you want them to feel.

“It is. You know—

“It stays on longer.” You finish for her.

“Exactly.” She can’t hold in her smile. Was her heart...warming? If so, that meant her cheeks were turning pink, which also meant that you could see clearly that you were doing it right. If you were flirting with her, you were doing it so well, and so respectfully.

“I’ll just take a hazelnut.” You breathe out. Your hands are in your pockets, and you’re shifting the weight from your toes to your heels repeatedly. You must be cold. When you’re cold, you get jittery it seems. That’s why you’re in here in the nick of time. You’re definitely in school. You probably just got out of class, and have a shit-ton of homework to finish. That’s why you need the coffee and that’s why you seem so exhausted; although you’re trying to hide it from her.

“Hazelnut!” She shouts, turning around and giving the ticket to the real worker in here. She doesn’t even look at him as reaches out to snatch it from her. “Is that your favorite?”

“The only coffee I will drink.” You admit, covering your face with your hands. You’re embarrassed. You probably feel somewhat uncultured, and childish for even saying that out loud.

“Have you ever tried another?” She says in a light tone, tilting her head just as you did a few minutes ago. Still, you’re unfazed. You actually close your eyes for a moment before snapping them back open.

“I have. I think it was roasted chestnut? Whatever it was it was not good at all.” And now you’re laughing. Your laugh—it’s beautiful. It’s not a subtle, shy chuckle that would indicate you don’t laugh often. You laugh all the time. She can’t tell if it’s a boyfriend that always has you geeked like this, or maybe your friends. Maybe, even your girlfriend, but that would break her heart too much.

“Well, coffee isn’t the only good thing here. We’re not Starbucks, but our frapachinos are pretty good.” Irene mentions, eyes flicking to the frap menu to the left of her. She lets the red sweater she spotted slip off her shoulder ever so slightly, and you’re looking at it. It was for a mere second, but she saw it.

“Here you go.” Josh—the chef of this shift interrupted, handing you your coffee quickly.

“That’s the fastest you’ve ever done that.” Irene seethes, shooting an annoyed look to her co-worker.

“Trying to close. No offense.” Josh nods to you, already starting the trials and tribulations that closing involved. He’s wetting a rag in preparation of wiping all of the counters down.

“Oh, none taken. I hate to be that customer that comes in late like this. I just have all this work to catch up on and I figured buying aderall from the guy who sits beside me in Psych wasn’t the best idea.”

Irene breaks into a fit of laughter. Truthfully, she wasn’t faking it. You were so funny. But she was also right. She hit the nail right on the head, actually. Josh couldn’t believe his ears as he had barely seen her smile a genuine cheese. Of course he stayed silent. “You’re funny!” She coughs out through her fit.

“Don’t flatter me.” You smile brightly. Your smile is so pretty, just like you. God, she was running through too many scenarios on how she could make you stay. “Thanks for this pleasing experience. Today sucked and I needed it so badly. Do you guys have like a manager or something? Or like a survey?”

She had never been asked this before. No one had ever cared to commend them on their excellent service and caffeine recovery program they had in place for the addicts. “Um...no. But what you can do is come back. To repay us.” She whispers the last part.

She needs your name. She just knows someone like you has the most goregeous name.

And the heavens answers her request. She already saw that you had a necklace hiding under your hoodie, but you’re pulling it out now. It’s a name; she just needs to know who it is.

“That necklace, I love it.” She leans over the counter, squinting to see the name. “Y/N.” She mumbles. “Is that your name?”

“It is.” You respond. “People say it’s stupid to wear your own name, but it’s comforting to me. Plus, I don’t have someone else’s name to wear so.”

So, you were single.

“Don’t get too discouraged. Someone could come and change that. Very soon, actually.” She purrs, and she finally does it. She’s getting in your head. You’re seeing her.

You leave, your walk mezmorizing her in ways that makes her tingle. She barely follows the procedures of cleaning, as all she wants to do is go home. She needs to know everything about you.

“Y/N L/N. Twenty four years old. Younger than me.”

It wasn’t that hard to find your all your social media. All public, minus your Facebook account. Your Twitter consists of retweets of memes that probably made you scream, and your own little comedy that your select friends liked as they felt obligated.

She can’t lie; she was expecting to see a tweet about her. Something about a beautiful girl in the coffee shop. But there was nothing. Not a peep. Then again, maybe this was a good sign. Maybe you liked to keep your loves private. She’s searching through your pictures, embellishing in the sight of you until something stops her scrolling.

It’s a picture of you, and another guy. His hair is black, but his features are far from plain. He’s not impressive to her, but she knows to you, he’s everything. He seems to be just your type.

It’s been two years, and yet, it feels like a thousand.

The caption is so short, yet so sweet and gentle. It’s telling a million stories with one sentence, and even she can tell there’s real love in the photo. On your side, at least. She feels sick now. He’s tagged on the photo.

Lee Taeyong. That’s his name. The first place she searches is his likes, where she knows she’ll find proof of him being a scumbag. The way you addressed your necklace; it’s almost as if it was a mere replacement for a previous. It was a somber, silent story.

A lot of his likes are filled with hip-hop. Viral dances, artist appreciation, funny memes just as you enjoyed. You two probably found love through a similar interest. She continues to scroll though, where she finds something that truly twists her stomach. A quote.

Do you ever wish you could turn back time? Fix a mistake? Go back to when everything was perfect? When you could hold her and she was yours? Because same.

He hurt you. She didn’t know what he did, but she knows he hurt you. Her first guess was cheating, and she was going to stick to it. Maybe your chill nature was because your walls were up so high. Maybe your intense laughter wasn’t because you laughed all the time, but instead because you hadn’t laughed in a while. And it was all his fault—fuck Lee Taeyong.

He works at a video game store. No—he owns an arcade to be exact. She was going to see him. She needed to observe him in person. See his vibe. In the mean time, she can follow you on Instagram. That’s not too weird, right?

January 17, 2020 — 7:30PM

“Welcome to T’s.” A dull voice speaks.

Although the lighting in the arcade is practically blinding—all the neon creating a cool atmosphere, their customer service is awful. Probably a telling to his personality if that’s the kind of people he hired.

She waited for a moment, waiting for more. How can they just assume she knows what she’s doing? What kind of place was this? It’s a Saturday afternoon, and it shows because people are everywhere. Kids are running around, and adults are talking trash to eachother as they bet money on who will win the car game. “Men.” She sighs. But with her sighs brings the man she’s looking for. He’s almost blending in with his all black clothing, but she knows it’s him. He’s hard to miss, but not because of his features. It’s because she hates him.

Her current outfit; a tight red dress and dangerous heels aren’t really arcade attire, but she doesn’t care. She clacks her way over to Taeyong, who is surrounded by many people. He must be popular. He definitely cheated on you. The girls around him were ridiculous. So much for missing you.

She knows approaching so quickly would be foolish. It wouldn’t make sense. She decides instead to creep around, wanting to know who these people are. As she gets closer, she can recognize almost all of them. Chungha—your seemingly bestfriend was here, some guy with his arm around her shoulder. The Johnny she had seen pop up on your feed a few times, the Ten, and lastly, the Momo. Momo also seems to have some unspoken feelings about you.

She could feel it in the way she comments under your pictures. You couldn’t notice her flirtatious nature, but it was there.

The most beautiful human in the world.

My favorite.

Can I be you?

More like—can I be with you?

“Excuse me.” Irene finally speaks, interupting their laughter. She was hoping they’d give her a dirty look, so she could have even more of a reason to turn you against them, but they don’t. They look at her in synch, smiles still on their faces.

“What’s up?” Johnny says, a dashing grin on his face. Another who thinks she’s too beautiful. Exactly how she felt about you. “Are you new around here?”

Chungha punches him in the shoulder promptly, clearly not a fan of his approach. Irene can see why she was your chosen best-friend. Then again, was she really your friend? I mean, all of these people were hanging around your ex boyfriend and the only person who wasn’t here is you?

“Sorry about that.” She apologizes. “Us pretty girls are hard to come by, and they get extremely thirsty.”

She’s funny, but not as funny as you.

“Oh it’s fine. I’m Irene.” She introduces, placing her frail hand out. It connects with Chungha’s, and it’s genuine. “He’s right. I am new here. I’m a tad overdressed, I see.”

“I’m not complaining.” Johnny adds, receiving a punch from Taeyong this time.

So, he’s somewhat of a woman supporter too. I mean, he didn’t have to stop him from his words, but he did.

“I’m Taeyong.” He sighs, but he doesn’t place his hand out. That’s odd. The glow of games is making all of them look nothing less of models, but that doesn’t mean she’s impressed. No one was better than you.

“You know, you’re allowed to touch a girl other than your family and Y/N.” Johnny jokes.

The mention of your name makes everything in Irene’s body spike. They were acknowledging you, even though you weren’t here, which means maybe you didn’t mind them being here without you. Or maybe you and Taeyong weren’t exactly broken up. Something complicated instead.

He doesn’t say anything, just squints at his friend in an evil manner.

“Y/N.” Irene interrupts, putting a hand on her chin. “I met someone with that name last night.” She says. She knows exactly what she’s doing. “I work at Velvets, and this girl came in. She was wearing a necklace with that name.”

She watches for Taeyong’s reaction, and she gets what she wants. The mention of the cafe makes him almost flinch. Velvets must have been a place you two frequently visited together when you were dating. But then again, why did you seem so clueless about the menu? No, you weren’t. You mentioned you tried other coffee. It must have been with him. The way you laughed, it all makes sense now. You were thinking about him. A memory popped up.

She wants to ask if you were his ex, but that would be crossing the line. She had only known them for two minutes. It would seem too odd.

“Was she wearing sweat pants and a hoodie?” Momo questions now. Her hands are crossed over her chest, and Irene can’t read her. She doesn’t like that. Momo somewhat has her guard up.

“Yeah. I think she was.”

“That was definitely her. She’s been dressing like a complete bum lately.” Momo giggles now. If she didn’t already know this was her competition, she knows now. Momo is giggling just from thinking about you. You must make her laugh a lot. Irene doesn’t like her judgemental nature. You would be perfect in every state if she was a real one, but she’s not. So maybe she isn’t going to be a problem after all.

“You described her perfectly.” Irene seethes, quickly switching back to her normal state. The bright smile, and pink lip.

“How was she?” Taeyong questions. He still cares. She can see in in his eyes, but even if she was blind, it wouldn’t matter. His voice was so frail when talking about you.

“Oh brother.” Ten sighs

“I have a right to know.” Taeyong argues. He’s frustrated. He’s hot headed; at least when it comes to you.

“She seemed perfect to me. Laughing a lot, making jokes and stuff. I apologize if I’m out of place for this, but what’s going on? Is she okay?”

All of their faces seem to freeze for a mere second. They’re not uncomfortable with her question, but it seems like they’re wondering do they have permission to tell your buisness like that. They’re looking at Taeyong, presumably because it’s technically his buisness too.

Chungha is the first to speak. “She’s fine. These two,” she points to Taeyong, and then seemingly to thin air, “they broke up.”

Momo is oddly silent. She’s seemingly fuming, but no one is paying attention to her. That means none of these people know about her feelings for you. She’s been keeping it bottled up this entire time.

“Oh...sorry for asking.” Irene quickly scrambles, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I should’ve put that together by myself—

“It’s okay, beautiful.” Johnny places a hand on her shoulder, and she wants to slap the stupid grin off of his face, but he was going to be useful. He was stupid, and naive. One pull down of her panties, and he would tell her everything she needed to know. She moves into his touch, giggling just a tad.

The vibration of her phone distracts her, and she quickly searches for it in her Louis purse. You followed her back. One by one, you’re liking her pictures, and she can feel her heart beating hard through her little chest. Was her fairytale going to happen? Was she finally going to be able to fall in love again? God, she loved you already. Your sexy demeanor, your perfection. She needed you, and she would do anything to get it.

The bell of the shop dings, indicating that more people are walking in. From the way that they all freeze once again, she knows exactly who it is. She turns around and there you are. Her knees so badly want to get weak, but she controls herself. Today, you’re wearing an oversized t-shirt. She can’t tell if you have shorts on under, but she hopes you doesn’t. The shirt is from some band you listen to, and you have white converse on your feet. High top.

Momo is the first to greet you. She practically jumps into your arms, and Irene notices the way you don’t seem to mind. Her brain is starting to shock her, jolting her anger to all the wrong places. She could fucking kill Momo right now. The two of you are spinning around, Momo’s legs around your waist and you inhaling her scent. Everyone else is looking at the scene with a soft smile—they’re so stupid. How can they not see?

Momo finally returns back to the floor, and now you’re looking at her. She quickly fixes herself up, so quick, that you don’t even notice.

“Irene?”

The way you say her name is causing her to pool. She wants to hear you say it for the rest of the night. She takes a deep breath, not hiding it this time before she strides to you, hugging you. She knows this won’t make you uncomfortable. You seem to be willing to catch some affection for people you like. When she feels your hands on her middle back, she inhales you. You smell like spring, even in the winter, and that’s so beautiful. You’re so beautiful. She allows her cheek to graze against yours ever so slightly, and your noses to touch before she backs away. She sees the way you bite your lip. No one can see you but her, and she likes the thrill. It’s dangerous.

“Johnny.” You sigh, walking past him without a look. You don’t like Johnny—that’s obvious. Was he possible the reason for you and Taeyong’s break-up? “My Tenny!” You screech, putting his face in your hands like a baby and kissing his cheek softly. You have a soft side. “Chungha~” You sing, embracing her tightly. Now it was the big reveal. Would you speak to Taeyong? Or would you two do the awkward stare.

He still loves you. It’s obvious in the way that the love practically pours out of his eyes, and his hands shake. “Y/N.” He whispers. It’s like no one else is in the room. You must have not seen any of them in a while, based on the way they stare at you admiringly.

“Hey.” You whisper back, slowly moving to hug him. He closes his eyes for a mere second, and it’s all over. Now you’re back beside Irene, who’s very pleased.

“Irene was just telling us that the two of you know eachother.” Johnny speaks. He’s trying to get back into your good graces. It’s so obvious it’s painful.

“Yeah.” You smile, but not at him. “I was at Velvets getting my usual, and then we met. Surprised to see you here though.” You’re looking at her now.

“What? Just because I’m in a dress means I can’t be a gamer?” She jokes, and everyone around laughs. Everyone but Momo.

“No. Momo wears dresses.” You say, slapping her thigh gently. Why do you keep touching her? She’s standing right here, looking good for you, and you’re flirting with Momo? “There’s just a lot of assholes in a place like this. You don’t seem to be interested in that.”

“Well, how about I prove you wrong? Loser has to buy the other coffee.” She prompts.

She hopes everyone else looks jealous. Especially Momo. Knowing you, even if you wanted to say no, you weren’t going to deny her.

“Any coffee?” You question with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything you want—that is, if you win.”

“I say we have a tournament.” Momo adds in. “I mean, it’s been a while since we’ve all been together lile this.”

Shut up, slut. God, Irene just wants to wrap her hands around her neck. She had to get you away from her as soon as possible.

“Sounds good to me.” You agree. “Is that cool with you?” You look back at her. You’re already hooked enough to have to ask permission when you had only known her for 24 hours.

“Does it matter if she is?” Johnny mentions.

“Johnny!” Chungha screeches. “Why are you being such a dick!”

“Don’t answer that.” Ten prompts, taking his friend by the hand and leading him outside.

“Anyways, that sounds like a great idea to me. Let’s roll!” Chungha yells in sorority fashion, and now all of you are going to where the fun is. There’s a million games to choose from, but it seems like you guys have a section you’re leading her to.

“As you can see, the games only get harder and harder from here.” You explain to her, placing a hand on her lower back.

“So like, kids shouldn’t be going this far.” She giggles.

“Exactly. Consider yourself privileged.” You wink.

“Just because I’m short and cute does not mean I’m a child.”

“You’re going to have to prove that to me.”

You’re definitely flirting with her now. And to make it even better, more fiesty than she had expected it to be.

“What are you doing after this?” She flirts back, placing her hand on your back now.

“You’re taking me to get coffee.”

“Velvets will be closed.” She pouts.

“I didn’t say you had to take me to Velvets. They sell hazelnut coffee everywhere.”

“You really think you can beat me, can’t you?”

“No. I know I can.”

And you did. You beat the clean breaks off of her in every single thing. The whole tournament went to hell as you and Irene were completely in your own world. You ran from game to game like children.

You weren’t rude enough to not say goodbye, but it was quick. You knew exactly what was going to happen after tonight, and you needed it. It had been too long.

“You’re not coming over?” Is the last thing you hear right before you and Irene head out. It’s Momo again, and her eyes are sad as she seems to know exactly what’s going on. “We haven’t had the big sleepover in so long, and I cleaned my house.”

Irene is reading you like the open book you are, and you’re fighting it. You haven’t seen your friends in a while, and you want their attention. You love the fact that they miss you, and you miss them even more, but you don’t crave them like you’re craving her right now.

“I promise next weekend.” You try to plead.

“But I got drinks.”

“A promise is a promise.” Now your pinky is out. The way Momo seemingly gives up on her complaining shows that your promises held weight. She connects her pinky with yours, before lightly caressing your knuckles with her thumb. You don’t think anything if it, but Irene knows, and her eyes are burning holes into her skull.

As soon as the two of you reach the car, you’ve forgotten about the coffee.

With a slammed hand on the foggy window, Irene is in bliss.

“So much for that hazelnut coffee, huh?” She purrs, kissing you once more.

“You still owe me.” You giggle.

“You’re absolutely right.” She’s now crawling down your body, fully prepared to repay you for your victory. More like her victory. She had won, and it was easy. You were easy, and yet she still loved you. She would never let you go, and anybody who got in the way of you two being together forever will feel her wrath.

February 17, 2020 — 2:00PM

“Wait wait, so you’re telling me that I leave for two seconds, and Y/N and Irene are fucking?”

“Not just fucking—fucking dating.”

Johnny and Taeyong were catching up, just as brothers did. After being pulled out of the arcade by Ten, it had been decided that Johnny needed a break from his crew. There was clearly some animosity—rightfully so within the group, and a month break was much needed.

“I didn’t even know Y/N...”

“Exactly.” Taeyong finishes for him, taking an aggressive sip from his coffee. With the slam, some of it splattered on the table. He can’t help but think about how you would immediately clean it up as little things like that bothered you, if you were here that is.

“Well, how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t understand how this happened so quick. I mean, think about how long it took me and Y/N to start dating. We talked for what felt like years before you guys pushed us to make it official.”

“You mean pushed you.” Johnny corrects, sipping his Americano with shade.

“Whatever. I just don’t like it. I mean, this Irene girl just shows up, and takes Y/N away that quick? That quick?”

“I mean, she is fine as hell. Are you saying you wouldn’t be down for that?”

“Can you not be gross for like two seconds?” Taeyong fumes.

“Shh.” The congregation of the library says in unison, causing him to throw his head down in shame.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Month of meditation actually did something I can assure you.”

“I want to look into her.”

“As in, like stalk her? Do you really think you’ll find anything?”

“I don’t want to, but this all happened too coincidentally. I know you think I’m crazy,” a nervous habit formed as a little boy, Taeyong is scratching his elbow like a manic. His rash has appeared, and rash equaled bad news.

“Well, you know I’m on your side. You might be stupid and crazy, but as your best friend it’s my job to make sure you don’t do it alone.”

They weren’t alone, even when they thought they had found a secluded area. She was there, disguised as a typical college girl. She sported a bob that made her look extremely basic, and her ears heard every drip of that conversation. Of course, being the idiots that they were, a bathroom break included them leaving all their belongings on the table.

February 21, 2020 — 12:00AM

“Do I know you?” The blonde girl says in a low voice. She’s scared as she approaches her vehicle. She worked the late shift tonight, and deep down she knew it was a horrible idea, especially when her boyfriend was too drunk to come and get her.

“You don’t need the extra money—I got you, babe.”

But she ignored him.

“No, but I know you.”

“Did my boyfriend sleep with you? Because if you want revenge, I’m not the one you need to be speaking to.”

“What would make you think that?”

“Past trauma.”

“So he’s cheated before.”

“No, past trauma.” She doesn’t know why she’s entertaining this stranger. Maybe it’s because she’s so beautiful. You can’t help but to trust her, even in such a suspicious predicament. I mean, she was leaning on her fucking car like she pays the note. “Are you an addict or something? I barely have anything for myself, okay? Maybe next week.”

“You’re Johnny’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“I’m calling the police.”

But Irene snatches her phone from her, slamming it on the ground. The black gloves that cover her hands secure her non-existent finger prints, and the phone shatters.

“Literally what the fuck!” The blonde screams, but it doesn’t matter. They’re in a parking garage and there’s no one here to save her. She tries to run away, but Irene is just too quick. The knife that was behind her back connects to the back of her neck, and she haults.

“This is for your nosy fucking boyfriend, who believes that he can somehow find out about my past and make Y/N leave me. How foolish of him.” She chuckles, letting the blood trickle down her arm.

She’s crying and screaming, but as stated, it’s irrevlant. Irene 2 — Johnny 0.

February 18, 2020 — 9:00AM

“I just...I just can’t believe it. I told her not to work that stupid fucking shift.”

“It’s not your fault, Johnny.”

“Yes it is. If I wouldn’t have been drunk out of my ass, I could’ve saved her somehow—I don’t know. But now she’s gone. I loved her. I loved her so damn much and I was finally pulling it together because of her.”

The rest of you sit on the couch, struggling to find the proper words for such a tragedy. Johnny is sobbing into his hands now, while Ten is rubbing his back gently. Taeyong is off to the side staring into space. You’re familiar with this look. He was thinking heavily about something, but you obviously would never find out what it was. Chungha is sitting on your right, rocking back and forth. Her nails are chopping at her fingers—a clear sign of her fearfulness. Similar to Taeyong, Momo is silent. You expected her eyes to be on you in search of some answers, or silent suspicions, but she refuses.

Finally, Irene is beside you to the left. You didn’t know Johnny’s lover that well, but you knew she was a decent girl. She didn’t deserve this, and you couldn’t even imagine what would it would feel like to lose someone you loved. Anyone sitting in this room. Her frail hand is locked on your elbow while her thumb is trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispers. Her lips find your shoulder in something sweet and comforting. “Who would do something like this? Did she have an ex boyfriend?”

It takes a minute for Johnny to find a response.

“She did tell me about some guy who began to get a little possessive, so she broke it off. But she never mentioned him coming back.”

“Maybe it was him.” Irene says quietly. You can tell she’s trying not to say too much, as she hadn’t been hanging with the crew for too long. You’re grateful that she’s here for you.

“Let’s just let the police do their job.” Momo finally speaks, standing up from the loveseat she sat on alone. Something is wrong with her, but you’d have to figure that out later.

“Let’s order some food.” You decide, standing up as well. “I know you might now want to eat right now, but it’ll clear you head even if just a little bit. We are all under a lot of stress right now.”

“I agree, babe.” Irene commends, smiling at you sadly.

“Alright.” Johnny sighs. He also rises, but he goes straight into the back of his apartment instead. None of you were worried about him hurting himself. You knew he needed time to let his emotions out, as he was constantly trying to be society’s definition of a man.

Your phone vibrates, and it’s Irene who’s hitting you up.

I think you should check on Momo. Was she friends with her? She just seems really upset and I know how close you two are.

You have to contain the smile that wants to come out for the sake of the situation, but she was so perfect. She didn’t get jealous about anything. And she was so in love with you. It had been too long since you could confidently admit that this wasn’t a one-sided situation.

Your feet are approaching the kitchen softly, trying not to make such a scene. Momo is leaned over the counter at first, but when she sees you she tries to straighten up.

“Hey.” She whispers, preparing for eavesdropping.

“Hey.” You say back.

Why was this so awkward? It was never like this before.

“I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine.”

Which means she’s not. You see her observing your current outfit—yoga pants with a shirt she had bought you years ago covering your body.

“Do you want to talk later?” You offer, putting a tiny smirk on your face remembering that usually made her feel better.

“I think that would be good, actually. I don’t know if we’ll have the time, but maybe when everyone’s asleep?”

“The best thing I’ve heard all day.” You open your arms out, and you know she won’t deny you. She lets out what seems to be all the stress from her week as she lets you engulf her. It had been so long since the two of you were close like this. On your nights where you couldn’t sleep from past thoughts, it was Momo who would come over and hold you until you could.

“I’ve missed you.” She mumbles into your shoulder. “So much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I haven’t been exactly here as much.”

“Irene...I know.” She pulls away at the mention of her name, and it’s odd timing. “Let me just ask you something— as one of your best friends?”

“Go ahead.”

“Don’t you think the two of you are moving a little fast? I mean, we saw the girl for the first time a month ago, and now you’re all committed and in love with her. I’m just concerned.”

She made several points. It wasn’t that you made people wait for you in the past. This whole scenario was just too quick, especially since you had just gotten out of a relationship not too long ago.

“Are you insinuating that I’m not over Taeyong?”

“No.” She’s confident in her answer. “I don’t want you to be with him anyway. He cheated on and is a fat jerk.”

You snort at her last two words, and she’s punching your shoulder lightly even though she’s laughing as well.

“You’re so negative minded.”

“Continue.” You breath out, covering your mouth.

“I just feel like—

The door flies open, revealing Irene on the other side. “Sorry to interrupt, but have you ordered the pizza yet? We’re all starving.”

In reality, she wasn’t in the mood for food. Ten and Taeyong had went to the back to check on Johnny, and Chungha was using the bathroom. She had heard your whole exchange and to say she was pissed was an understatement. Why didn’t you try and defend her? You should have walked out of the room, and straight into her lap the minute the slut tried to question you on something she knew nothing about.

Both of you look like you’ve been caught, and she relishes in that. The fear that is in both of your eyes.

“Yeah I got you.”

That’s all you have to say to her? First, Momo was able to get you to open up that fast, when you hadn’t even revealed to her any details of you and Taeyong’s relationship.

“Or, you can order it if you want. Me and Y/N were just catching up I’m sorry to take her away.” The slut speaks. Her voice bleeds cockiness, even though her face is soft and sweet. She knows that Irene is mad. She’s enjoying it.

“Okay.” Is all Irene mumbles before going back to the living room.

“What was that about?” Momo is looking at you in confusion and fear. She had always had suspicions about Irene. She just seemed too nice—too willing to be everything you needed, when in reality she didn’t fit the role.

Momo had been in love with you since she met you. Your smile, the way you loved everyone no matter their differences, and your seemingly never ending talent of making her laugh. You were magical, but she was okay with being on the sideline. She had done it for two years straight while you were with Taeyong, and even during your nights of crying over she kept it to herself.

She knew keeping it to herself was only hurting her, but she was willing to be hurt for the sake of your happiness as you were happy with Taeyong. She could see how much the two of you loved eachother, and even after everything went down, she didn’t want to stop your journey of loving herself to have to figure out a way to reject her feelings nicely.

“Guess I’ll have to find out later.”

You seem frustrated as your leg is tapping up and down—even though you’re not sitting. Your breathing is getting faster and faster, and she knew this picture. This is exactly how you used to react when Taeyong made you upset, or neglected your feelings.

“Does she know what pizza you like?” She decides on, trying to pick your mood up with her bare hands as you were always able to do for her. She finds herself dancing slightly—her go to when she didn’t know what to do.

“I should probably go find out.” You smack her exposed stomach before walking back into the living room, where everyone has returned. Momo is behind you, and Irene is staring straight at the wall.

“The pizza should be here soon.” She whispers without removing her eyes.

“That’s goo—

By soon, even she didn’t seem to have meant this soon. The door is being knocked on quite aggressively, and all of you are looking at eachother trying to decide who’s going to answer.

“I’ll get it.” You step up. You were always the one in the group who would rise to the things you knew they were scared to do. Before you can even put your hand on the knob though, the banging is coming again, this time even louder. “I’m coming!” You spit full of attitude, and at the same time, everyone but Irene is rising to the occasion to stand by your side. You would always protect eachother—even from the pizza man. Johnny steps infront of you, opening the door himself.

It’s the police, and they don’t look happy.

“Are you Johnny Suh?” The chubby officer questions.

“Uh—yes.” He stutters. “The police said I wasn’t getting questioned until tomorrow.”

“Oh cut the crap.” The other offer says. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Cierra Valdez.” He rips the handcuffs from his belt, and he’s trying to turn Johnny around, but Johnny will never go down without a fight.

“What are you talking about!”

“Get off of him!” You yell, immediately trying to pull him in your direction. Everyone else follows, together more powerful than the police. Johnny is out of their grasp for just a few moments before a gun is pointed towards all of you.

“Drop your hands now!”

“You’re not gonna fucking shoot us!” Taeyong screams. It was the most passion Irene had heard come from his lips, and she was quite entertained. She was entertained by all of this. If you wouldn’t have been letting Momo flirt with you, she would’ve gotten up to shield you, but you didn’t, which is why she’s sitting on the couch in fake shock.

“Y/N get over here!” She yells. She doesn’t even have to wipe the sly smirk off her face as nobody is looking at her.

But you ignore her.

“I didn’t kill her!” Johnny is crying all over again, his whole face soaked in tears. “I loved her. Why would I kill her?”

“Anything you do or say will be held against you.” The Miranda rights are flowing out of the officer like he does this all the time, and now they’re dragging him out. His back is scratching on the cement.

“Y’all have to help me!” Johnny screeches. The whole apartment complex can hear what’s going on, and it’s killing him inside. He didn’t kill the love of his life. He didn’t. “I loved her.” He cried once more. “I fucking loved her!”

Continued

#red velvet #red velvet irene #kpop #lgbt kpop #kpop imagine #red velvet imagine #irene imagine #nct #nct 127 #nct imagine #nct taeyong #nct johnny #kpop angst #irene scenarios #whew #nct scenario #nct angst #nct imagines #sm

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dreams-of-valeria · 4 years

Note

For the Xmas request thing can you do 7-Fluff and 1-Smut together?

@chiefharbour asked:

For the Christmas prompts, could you do Smut # 1 & #9? I’m living for your writing!

Cold cuts

F7: Christmas gifts

S1: Secret Santa

S9: Dealer's choice (Surprise)

Pairing: Jim Hopper x female reader

Warnings: Age gap, language, dirty talk, Hopper being his sexy-ass self, SMUT

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the sweet things you guys have said! I am overwhelmed with all the love and although this isn't strictly secret santa, I hope you like this one! Merry Christmas!

Word count: 3,156

You swayed your hips in beat with the smooth acoustic that pervaded the air of the small kitchen, as you wrapped your Christmas gift to Hopper.

Elvis crooning about being left alone on Christmas rang from his record player and with you alike, because it was 10 pm and your boyfriend wasn't home yet. You found it odd to call him your boyfriend--juvenile even, but maybe it was just the townsfolk rubbing off on you. They definitely were, considering you just said townsfolk.

As long as their opinion on age gaps in relationships didn't rub off on you, you didn't care.

Two years ago, you were just the new girl in town whose sole reason to pick Hawkins was to leave her bankruptcy behind as she paid off her student loans. A lot of help your marketing degree was doing you in a place where people called the ATM a banksy. You hated living there and missed the nice life but little did you know that meeting a certain policeman would make it all worth your while.

What followed after that fated and chaotic meet at the bank was petty banter and frustrated sighs, which took both of you a month to understand was pure sexual tension and once you'd fucked and got that out of the way, you had plenty of time for the romance.

Neither was of you was very fond of the chocolates and flowers bit, but were experts in the nude. Sure, there were plenty of gooey and touchy-feely memories along the way, and the amount of gentleness Hopper showed threw you at times. But at the same time, you loved how rough he was with you in bed. It was what you were both good at and you had no complaints. Except for the tardiness.

You sighed as you did the final knot and wrote his name on the card, vowing not to bring it up. You would not be one of those people who chastised their partner over the amount of time they spent doing their very crucial work. Provided it didn't extend beyond 11 pm. Your patience really started to wear thing close to the witching hour.

You headed to the tree and placed the small present by the trunk, grinning in anticipation. You couldn't wait to see his face when he opened it. Your heart beat in wait as you tightened the bow of your grey robe, and fidgeted with the ornaments to cut time.

You noticed that your present was the only occupant under the tree, and told yourself not to be disappointed if Hopper forgot to wrap his. Or get you a gift in the first place.

It was unlikely, but still a possibility. He was just so fizzled out lately, and you hoped it was only a bad streak.

You had just corrected the tilt of a rogue red bauble when the lock turned behind you and your boyfriend (--lover?) walked through the door, brushing the snow off his coat and boots.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted him at the entrance, leant against the wall with your arms crossed. His face looked flushed like you'd just sat on it and rode it to your climax, and there was something to be said about his unruly hair.

“I know I'm late, baby. Some people, I swear to God . . .” he grumbled as he passed by you, leaving an ice cold kiss on your lips before he settled before the fireplace, warming himself up.

You watched him as he rubbed his hands together, and the way his arms flexed underneath that tight uniform shirt. It was the hottest thing you'd ever laid eyes on, and never failed to leave you wet and wanting.

“Dinner smells amazing,” he commented with a smirk, shooting you a look from under his thick eyebrows. They matched his beard, all rich and prickly, and you suspected one of the reasons he kept it was because of the noises you were making when he went down on you.

“Did you spend all day cooking for me, darlin'?”

You smirked at him with your arms crossed.

You couldn't cook to save your life. Which meant your significant other was calling Swanson's TV dinners his darling. Nevertheless, the endearment made your knees weak. And your panties damp.

“Oh you know how I can't resist my gastronomy when I'm waiting on my tardy hunk.”

“Gastronomy?” He frowned as he kicked off his boots.

“Word of the day,” you told him as you took a seat on the couch next to him. “I thought we could do presents first.”

“I'd rather do you first, but sure,” he shrugged, turning to face you as smiled. You shook your head and watched him with a face-splitting grin, expecting him to retrieve his present from under the tree. But he just sat there watching you quizzically, dumb as the doorknob that's been keeping you company on Hopperless nights.

You sighed and told him what he was supposed to do, but he simply twisted his face unwillingly. “I'm burned, sweetheart, could you get it for me, please?”

“It's two feet away, Hop.”

“I'm not as young as you are anymore.”

“Oh really? You weren't born with a receding hairline?” You snapped as you fetched him his present, but he man laughed, which nearly made his eyes close. You absolutely loved those laughs.

“Should have thought of that before you fell in love with an old man, kitten.”

“I'll remember that for next one,” you teased, making him laugh again as he took his present with a thank you.

Maybe it was your excitement rubbing off on him, but he suddenly seemed thrilled that he had a present with his name on it. You imagined he didn't get a lot of presents before you, when he lived in that Godforsaken trailer like a hibernating hermit. You'd flat out refused to move into that rectangle and that was when he had mentioned a cabin his grandfather had owned, and the two of you had made it your own.

“Let me guess, it's a sign up sheet to Smokers Anonymous?” He teased as he undid the ribbon, and you found your back straighten in anticipation.

“Don't be silly, that's for New year's.”

He let out an amused snort as he peeled off the paper and opened the small box, and his smile died immediately on seeing the content.

It was exactly what you'd expected. He frowned deeply at the piece of paper, with the words 'Pull Me' scribbled across in your handwriting. Hopper looked up at you for answers, but you simply got to your feet and made your way over to the record player, and changed discs. You figured after Elvis, Eartha Kitt would set the mood just right.

“I don't understand,” Hopper let you know as the disc crackled for a few seconds before the song started. You wordlessly made your way over and stood in front of him with a smile, hoping his gaze would land on the ribbon tied around your robe.

It did soon enough. They didn't make him the Chief for nothing. A smirk spread across his lips when he saw it, perfectly capturing the naughty but playful mood Eartha was lilting.

You saw his eyes darken as his hand tapped his thigh, signalling you to get on. You gulped down your heart in your throat and straddled him, kneeling on the couch on either side of his legs.

“Closer.” Hopper demanded, and you leaned forward until your waist was inches away from his face. He moved his hands out of his lap, and you hoped he would touch your bare legs, and slide them up to the apex. Your heart thud in anticipation, and nearly flatlined when he locked eyes with you and took the end of the ribbon into his mouth and held it firmly between his teeth. It took you a moment to understand you had to move back for the bow to come loose.

His eyes were on you throughout the delicious process, but only until your robe parted and revealed a glimpse of red lace.

Hopper's breath caught and he looked up at you to confirm his suspicions, and you smiled as to say yes. Before he could tear your robe away, you stood to your feet again, Eartha Kitt's silky voice giving you courage.

You lightly swayed in place to the beat, and slipped the robe off your shoulders bit by bit, until you were standing only in your lingerie: a red demi cup lace bra with matching panties and a garter belt.

Hopper's breath caught, and you witnessed first hand what it looked like for a person's jaw to hit the floor. Just to up the ante, you moved around in an impromptu dance with the music, giving him sexy rolls of your hips and a view of your back, and watched him grow restless in his seat.

His knuckles blanched from squeezing the edge of the couch, but a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips. You watched the crotch of his pants shift from within and smirked, turning around to give him another look.

The song was approaching its end, and you could hear the couch springs shift. But you still yelped when his arms closed around your waist and pulled you back to straddle him as he attacked your lips.

The disc had screeched and absolute silence lingered for a beat, before Hopper slipped his tongue into your mouth and your body reacted. Loud.

His hands were frisky and urgent, just like the first time you had sex. You couldn't wait to get each other naked and take everything as quickly as possible. It didn't turn out to be quite as quick as you imagined, just like when you fantasized about him with your fingers in your underwear before you knew each other, fucking your brains out.

His calloused hands cupped your breasts and kneaded, and given the sheerness of the bra, it might as well not have been there at all. It wasn't in the next second, as his fingers unclasped the hook while his tongue still teased yours, danced with yours.

You pulled back for a breath of air, and he locked eyes with you as his hands ran over your erect nipples, pinching and twisting them until they matched the color of your lips.

“F-fuck . . .” You hissed, grinding your hips onto his bulge as his tongue teased your nubs, and you fisted your hands in his hair, goading him to swallow you whole.

Between his prickly beard and moans that vibrated through you and the friction of his pants against your clit, you could feel yourself close to your release, and started to pant in welcome.

But he clamped your hips down captive and bared his teeth against your nipple as he spoke.

“Not so fast, baby. I get to tease you too.”

“Hop, please,” you panted as your vision blurred. “I'm so close.”

He smiled wickedly.

You knew exactly what begging did to him.

“Then finish,” he breathed, before shifting you onto his left thigh. You also knew exactly how much he loved it when you rode his thigh.

“Yes, sir,” you grinned despite your aching need and started off slow, watching him as you rubbed your core against his thigh. You did it knowing it would make him cocky and let it go to his head, but you loved the dominant side of him. Especially in uniform.

Your moans escalated fast enough as you grinded against his thick cord of muscle, and Hopper helped you by flexing occasionally, hitting your clit in a rhythm. Your hand squeezed his shoulder as the other steadied yourself against the couch, and the zing birthed from your apex, and then exploded until it touched every nerve ending, and you collapsed in his lap into a moaning mess.

“That was nice,” you panted, moving your head that was on his shoulder so you could see his face, but only saw neck. Licking your lips, you kissed your way up his neck, and Hopper's answering groan was everything.

You nipped along his skin, determined to leave a bruise. Somewhere his collar couldn't hide it. Hopper said it made him look unprofessional, but you knew that secretly, he loved showing off to the entire town what you did to him. He certainly returned the favor.

Your fingers set to unbutton his shirt as you devoured his neck, the warm flesh yielding easily under your lips. Hopper was in his undershirt by the time you'd moved back to his lips, and his fingers lightly trailed down your bare back and ending behind your knees.

You yelped again when he threw your back to the couch and hovered above you, throwing his white tee over his head and onto the floor. You stared up at him with pure, unrestrained lust, and his eyes drank it all in. Every pant and heave of your naked chest spurred him to pace up undressing, and the way you licked your lips nearly sent him off the edge.

“Do you know how gorgeous you look right now?” He panted as he unbuckled his pants, kneeling between your legs.

“Yes,” you smirked, sitting up to help him get his pants off, but he pushed you back down, tutting as he pinned your arms by your sides. Your hips inadvertently met his, and you locked your legs around his waist, feeling him hard against your core.

“Tell me what you're thinking,” Hopper pleaded, kissing down your neck.

“I was thinking how nice it would be to watch you fuck me like this.”

“Yeah?” He gritted his teeth as he kicked off his pants completely, and his erection bounced free.

“Yeah,” you panted, lifting your hips as he slipped your panties off. “How nice it would be to watch your cock disappear inside me.”

Hopper groaned into your neck as he positioned himself at your entrance, and teased you by rubbing himself between your folds.

“What else?” He watched you roll your hips, wanting more.

“We'd finish and then have dinner.”

Hopper paused his teasing to glance up at you in confusion.

“And then I can hound you about not getting me a Christmas gift.”

He chuckled, kissing your nose. “Baby, I am the gift.”

Your back arched when he pushed inside all the way at once, and you could never get used to the feeling. Of how it made you feel full. Complete.

“Oh, God,” you moaned, fingers digging into his biceps as he moved.

“I did get you a gift, by the way--Godamnit, you feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Your words were punctuated by his thrusts, slow but relentless. “What is it?”

“All good things to those who wait.” He whispered in your ear, before angling himself differently. “Hold on,” he instructed, and your hands immediately flew to the couch, gripping whatever they could. You knew what was coming.

Hopper got up to kneel and grabbed your hips, before starting a rhythm of deep, penetrating thrusts that made your teeth clatter. You held on to the arm rest as he moved, as he made your body feel incredible with only a few inches of his. Well, quite a few inches.

You smiled and bit your lip as Hopper's moans quickened, and you knew he was close. He reached his thumb down to your clit and rubbed, and you felt that zing ready to explode again. You sat up on your elbows and watched him disappear deep inside you, as his fingers helped you along to a climax that was even more spectacular than the last.

You fell back as stars formed in front of your eyes, and soon felt his release inside you, before Hopper's heavy, spent body collapsed on top of you.

You panted out your highs, wrapped in each other's arms like that. The only sounds were from the crackling fire, the heartbeat in your ears, and the breath of the man you loved above you. This was exactly how you saw your evening pan out.

After a while, when you'd circled your fingers in his damp hair, he asked, “Where'd you get the lingerie?”

You smiled. “Believe it or not, Flo helped me.”

He snapped his head up to look at you, face blanched.

“Not like helped me pick it out, jeez baby,” you chuckled, smoothing his hair back. “I meant she told me about a store in Carbondale.”

“That's two towns over,” he commented, nuzzling his head back into the crook of your neck.

“I know.”

“Looks like Flo helped both of us,” he said after a while, and freed his arm from underneath you.

“So you liked it?”

“Of course,” he smiled, hovering on his elbows above you. “You want me to get exercise one way or another, but I didn't mean this is what Flo helped with.”

You frowned, seeking out answers from his crystal blue eyes. Hopper sighed and stroked your face, leaving a feather like kiss on your lips.

“She pushed me--well, threatened is the word really, that if I didn't stop jerking around and give you this gift I've been carrying around for a year, she would burn my hat.”

“You've been carrying a new microwave around for a year?” You frowned.

“No. What? No.” Hopper shook his head. “Wait, you wanted a microwave?”

“Yeah? To cook dinner.” You said in a matter of fact voice, and he sighed with his eyes closed.

“I'm sorry to break it to you, princess, but I'm not spending that much money on a girlfriend.”

You stilled, and his playful smirk was the only thing that kept you from going off the rails. And then when he held out his gift to you, your heart did go off the rails.

“However, I would change my mind if it was for my wife,” he smiled, holding the small diamond ring between his fingers in the space between you. You could feel your jaw drop this time as tears came to your eyes, and your hand flew to your mouth.

You knew about his history. You knew he had had an unsuccessful marriage, and still, he was willing to try. For you.

“So, what do you say, kitten? Microwave or not?”

You chuckled through your tears, holding his face in your hands to kiss.

“I'm gonna reheat so many leftovers for you, baby.” You sniffled, and watched his lips form into a grateful smile. And it only grew as he slipped the ring onto your finger, shedding a few tears himself.

“Sorry I didn't have time to wrap it.”

You chuckled between kisses, stroking his hair lovingly. “You can make it up to me.”

“Newly engaged sex?” He grinned, eyes full of adoration.

“After dinner,” you promised, standing corrected.

The evening did not pan as you'd foreseen.

And you were grateful.

#jim hopper imagine #hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper fanfic #hopper x you #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper x reader #stranger things #hopper smut #hopper thirst #jim hopper smut #david harbour #hopper fluff #hopper x oc #christmas writing prompts #christmas

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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years

Text

3 times Bette was afraid to touch Barry and the one time she wasn’t

Obvious AU where Bette is still alive. I felt that there was some potential with her so here it is.

Their was a loud crash bang, but Bette didn't even look up. Probably another brawl between the new recruits. No one wanted to use the tazer less they accidentally shock themselves when she tried to head butt them.

It had been days since she been in the normal world, and she was slowly accepting this was what her life was going to be like until she died or until she gave in.

She had been dead for precisely a day before returning back to life. According to Eiling, she had been shot and blown up. But with the help of a man named Savage, they connected to a group called the Time Masters and hired the Pilgrim.

The Pilgrim was a woman able to stop time, another meta-human of some sort, and she went to the split second after Flash had run off and she blew up. Retrieved her body and with some extensive bomb-detonations, DNA analysts, and other stuff that Eiling didn't comprehend well enough to explain to her, she was alive.

Bette couldn't really wrap her mind around the whole Time Masters thing, and Savage or the Pilgrim but she chose not to dwell on it. After all she could make explosives with everything she touched who was she to judge.

The one thing Eiling made sure to keep were her powers. Unpredictable as ever. She had been too dazed and confused to really fight back when they brought her into the room.

The room was large, probably ten feet wide, ten feet in length. All white with padded grey walls and a large see-through window spanning the front next to the door.

They put her in the middle of the room. Strapped her to two chains hanging from ceiling into a elevated T or crucification-position. It prevented her from being able to move her hands around to touch the chains on her wrists or touch anyone/thing else.

She was hanging with no firm grip on the ground and she teetered on the toes of her boots. Preventing her from getting enough leverage to make a proper kick or at least that would make an impact.

She stayed in this position for hours on end, her back straining and arms aching from being stretched as her body longed to touch the ground. They wouldn't even let her eat with her hands, they spoon-fed her and gave her water. She was only unstrapped to go to the bathroom.

Which was a toilet and sink located at the upper right corner of the room. She was thankful that no perved had decided to look but it was still degrading. Treated like a wild animal, and going without the privacy of a stall.

Eiling was determined as ever to make her into a weapon, and he hadn't let up his threat that he would force her. Every day she would be tazered, hit, kicked, and water boarded.

This wasn't new for her, she had dealt with this while she had been serving on the Gulf Cost. Interrogation techniques and pain and she had become immune to most of them. She took comfort with the fact that they wanted her alive to be their living weapon so as she gasped and panicked for breath as the water bag placed over her head, suffocating her. She remembered they wouldn't go that far.

Although sometimes she wanted to give in, such as the nights they tried the sleep deprivation tactic, brights lights, loud noises, cold water splashed over her every time she was about to nod off. What would happen if she said yes?

Maybe they would finally unstrapped her? Maybe they would let her go into a regular room and sleep for once and maybe get a home and call me and special missions? Finally know what the date is?

Those thoughts were quickly pushed out when she reminded herself that as a living weapon, they wouldn't see her as a person.

Only a fighting machine. They wouldn't let her go back to her old life nor help her control her powers. It wasn't worth losing her humanity and independence to fight enemies if she didn't get a say in it.

She had joined the army to fight for the American way, but fighting for the government. She had a feeling fighting solely for the government might be killing more than terrorists but more anyone who tried to fight against it's precious leaders. Her stubbornness kicked in and she used all her will and tactics she learned at training to refuse.

"One thing different in this scenario," Bette snorted to herself, "There's no army to come looking for me. No one even knows I'm alive."

The crash sounded again, along with Eiling shouting and Bette curiously looked up.

She saw a red blur rush through the facility and Bette gasped. The familiar red blur, who had tried to help her all those days, possibly months ago.

He had honestly tried to help her with her powers, and one of the only ones who didn't look at her with absolute fear when he found out about her powers.

Flash looked through the window at her. He knocked Eiling's head against the glass and kicked open the door.

"Flash" she whispered, horsely. She jingled the chains uselessly and cringed as her torso recoiled in pain.

"Bette you're alive!?" Flash asked incredulous.

"Clearly," Bette snapped, Flash unsnapped the chain and she fell to the ground.

"Let me help.." Flash reached for her hand.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, scorching away from him, "I can handle myself."

She gripped her hands tightly, making sure not touch the floor, and pulled herself up by her elbows. Then promptly felt a searing pain in her ribs and buckled to the floor.

"Bette, we need you to get you out of here. You can't walk." Flash insisted as she crawled on her elbows and knees to the door.

"I don't have gloves on. I don't want to hurt you." Bette hissed.

"I can handle this, come on" he tried to reached under arm and attempted to get her to standing position but she kept squirming out of his grasp.

"Trust me." The speedster said with urgency. Bette looked at him, and relaxed her muscles. If anyone would get her out of this. He would.

She offered him her wrist. He took it and took her to the outside world in a woosh of air.

She found out it was 2016, she had spent two years in that place and has sustained from 7 cracked ribs, a severe concussion, a slight fear of water, broken ankle and dislocated knee cap.

There had been other people kept captive at the place, but she had been the only one to stick around with Team Flash.

Caitlin offered her a new set of gloves and although she couldn't participate in missions until she was healed, she helped out the Labs with random jobs and surveillance.

It had been quite dull, but once she was fully healed from her injuries, Cisco suggested as a professional trained solider, that she could teach them to fight better.

She had been training them but Caitlin and Cisco soon ducked out after the first session, claiming that their expertise lied behind the computer screen and they rather be able to sit on their chairs without sore butts.

Barry, she learned his name was, continue to train with her since he was the one doing most of the fighting. She had to admit, despite some posture and technique problems since he depended on his speed, but he had the basic skills down and the superspeed reflexes helped him a lot.

"Okay Bette, stop I'm woah" he ducked her roundhouse kick "I'm done."

"It's only been 20 minutes," Bette protested, taking another head-butt at him. It felt so good to be exercising again.

"Can you let it up a little?" Barry asked.

"Do you think Zoom would let it up a little?" She elbowed him in the shoulder.

"Fine," He panted, and aimed another upper cut at her. It would have been an easy block, but she hesitated and he sent flat on the ground.

"What happened there, bombshell?" Barry asked as she got up. She smirked, Cisco had started to nickname her Bombshell after she explained that one of her best talents in the army was as a bomb detonator.

"Nothing. I mean.. I would have blocked it, but you know...hands. I'm so used to touching myself." She cringed, "Sorry that sounded so wrong."

"Well you have your gloves now. So come on throw something at me. Punch.” "I'm okay, really." Bette wiped her pants.

"Oh come on punch me. You've got to get use to touching things again, so try to hit me." Barry insisted.

"It's fine, I'll stick to kicking."

"Bette," Barry whined, exaggeratedly "Punch me. It's not hard. I won't even defend myself. See" he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Even more of a reason not to," Bette protested with the image of his head exploding into a thousand little pieces.

"But I'm use to it. It'll be fine. People punched me lots of times" He grabbed her wrist, and attempted to squash it against his face.

"Then have them do it. I'm not going to," She pulled her hands back. "You can't fight without punching people" Barry chided, shoving her backwards.

"Really? Because I was beating your ass two seconds ago." Bette snorted, dogging another swipe at her. She tried to flip his legs with her own when he grabbed hers midway and threw her over.

"Oh look who's beating your ass now," Barry taunted, as she tried to up kick him again, once more with the same results and again.

"Damn Bette, keep fighting like this and we'll have your butt imprint on the floor." Bette growled in frustration.

He kept knocking her over and circling around her with his damn superspeed until she finally snapped and sent a smooth undercut to his jaw.

He fell to the floor with a thud, Bette bend down to his side,

"Oh my god, Barry I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it so hard!"

"You did it" he cheered with such a happy grin that Bette had to laugh "Great job," He reached for a high five.

"'Another time" Bette glanced wearily at his hand and cracked her knuckles -

Eight weeks later, Barry had taken to what he called Operation Touchy and Bette sincerely wished he would choose a new name.

Ever since the punching incident he felt that she had to get acquainted with physical contact again and every week, after training he would "introduce" her to a new sense of touch. After punching, it had been slapping, after that it had been handshakes. It was sort of ridiculous and unneeded if you asked her but he kept trying.

There was another factor too.

The more time she spent with him, the more she came to admire him. She didn't want to admit it, but she was starting to get a small crush. At first she had tried to convince herself it was a misplaced feeling and that she only was grateful for helping her, no love whatsoever.

Besides he was dating Patti, she was not that kind of girl to ruin someone's relationship. He would be better off with Patti, she was as normal and awkward as he was. They were perfect together.

But then they started to get to know each other. That was one way not to get over someone. He started to tell her about his mother and how he had come to live with the Wests. He talked about his bio-engineer dreams, and school and how he used to get bullied when he was younger.

He also introduced her to some of his favorite shows, and after he found out she had no idea who Dan and Phil where they spent the entire afternoon looking up videos. He would send an occasional but very energetic email, saying "THEY POSTED A NEW ONE? IT'S HILARIOUS GO LOOK? LOL FUNNY!"

She admired his optimism very much, she never met anyone so happy, and it brightened her day to hear him crack a joke in midst pressure. One time he had sent a Dubsmash of him dancing to Gangam Style/Harlem Shake/Whip n Nae Nae and she almost collapsed on the floor, laughing.

She had never seen anything like a grown male attempting whip Gangam style then do the worm and trip over a bowl of popcorn.

Today he "introduced" her to poking. Which she was pretty sure just an excuse for him to annoy her.

Afterwards he invited her to watch Mean Girls at the Lab because Patti was working a night shift.

"Isn't this a chick flick?" Bette asked as he placed a bowl of popcorn on the desktop.

"Well, yeah but it's written by Tina Fey!" She looked at him blankly "And stars Lindsey Lohan" he added like those two names would be an obvious answer to why a PG-13 move from the early 200s would be so awesome.

"Watch and you'll understand," He sat on the rolling chair beside her and accidentally knocked his knee against hers. An act that shouldn't have been so electrifying for her but it was. She blushed and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

Bette felt a little disappointed that he didn't seem to have noticed their knees touching but she hissed at herself, "Patti Patti Patti Patti.” "What was that?" He asked her.

"Nothing" Bette chirped, and blushed again.

Eventually she fell asleep at some part about a Halloween party and she thrashed restlessly. She had been having nightmares ever since she got her powers, usually world-about-to-end-all-thanks-to-her-types but sometimes she had general ones of fallen friends as their body parts were sent flying fifty feet in the air or when they were beheaded and militated by the Taliban.

Currently it was a flashback to being water boarded, over but this time Eiling wasn't letting up. She felt the burn of his bullet going into her chest.

"Wake up!" A disembodied voice called and she woke up. Barry was holding her by the shoulders and shaking her awake. "Are you okay? You were about to fall off your chair."

"Uh yeah, a nightmare. Regular PTSD stuff, ignore me." Bette waved him off and tried to settle herself back into a comfortable position.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"No. I'd rather not, I, Eiling that..um. Death hurts nothing much you can say about that.”

"Right, I get it" Barry nodded sagely. He reached his arms around her and she stiffened, unsure what to do.

"Now this is called hugging" Barry said, soothingly, stroking her hair. She felt her heart flutter a bit as his warm chest rested against hers, with his soft even breathing.

Slowly she put her hands around his back and rested her chin in the crook of his neck. He was so warm and so soft.

But like all things it had to end, and Bette wanted to slow the rapid flutterings in her stomach. "It meant nothing, just friend hugging a friend. He has a lovely girlfriend of his own who deserves him" she thought to herself.

But "I think I like hugging the best so far" she added shyly Barry grinned, "Me too, it's a lot less painful than slapping." ————

She had been about to leave S.T.A.R. Labs after Barry had returned from saving the subway when she spotted him, sitting melancholy on the patient table.

"Hey Barry, are you okay?" She asked him softly He sat silent.

"Did someone die? Do you want to talk about it?" She asked. "Patti," he sighed deeply.

It had been a month since Patti broke up with him, but he still had hurt feelings. She couldn't blame him, he had been over the moon with her but all the secret keeping and lies took a toll. Despite her feelings she hadn't want them to break up because of it. She actually encouraged him to tell her but it all came too late.

"Sometimes I feel like, I won't be enough for anyone. I'm too secretive. My intelligence scares them off. I'm too much like one of the girls. I've always been friend-zoned." Bette frowned, he must not only be talking about Patti,Iris was in this too.

"And then, I always make such lame excuses and jokes." This was more than the break-up, this was his whole self-esteem in the balance.

"Every time I try to find someone, I do but I end up losing them or endangering all the rest of the female population finds me utterly disgusting!"

Bette couldn't stand to see him like this. He resembled a symbol of hope and life to almost everyone in Central City, and although he couldn't save everyone he tried. He cared and he should know this.

"Barry, I want you to listen to me. Although it feels like it. You can't hold all the faults of the relationship on your shoulders. It's a relationship, a bond between TWO people. So for every mistake you made she made one too, it's not entirely one. Furthermore you're an amazing person Barry Allen.

You have more sense of fairness and justice in you than most people have in their pinkie. You want a fair trial, and you always put 110% in what you do. Believe me, people appreciate that. And in terms of people you care about. Barry you are the sweetest being in the universe. You cheer people up, you reason and sympathize with their troubles. What woman wouldn't love that about you. Know what else they would love about you, let's review" she started counting off her fingers.

"Singing voice is angelic, body 12 out of a scale of ten, your intelligence is outstanding and there is nothing cuter than when you start talking about what you love, you put your friends before your self and that's always very admirable, and most importantly you never stop being you. Which is what every girl looks for. That's true honesty."

Barry looked at her, mouth agape. "You're talking about me?" "Of course I am.” And for once, Bette didn't think about her hands or touching or anything else in the world. She only saw him and all the traits she had described. The incredibly smart, geeky man who saved the world on a daily basis. The man who had helped her in the darkest time and always looked at her with a smile.

She pulled his head closer to hers, gently caressing his cheek as she stared into his piercing brown eyes, and kissed him.

She pulled back, looking at his face for his reaction. "Thanks for what you said" Barry said, looking away.

Bette felt her heart dropped down to the floor, he didn't feel the same way, this was so embarrassing. Even if she had been gone for two years she doubted that people suddenly kissed to cheer friends up. She moved to leave.

"Now may introduce you to French kissing?" he asked. Bette turned back to him, and saw his eyes shining. "Yes" She pulled him closer, and fell into a tight, comforting embrace.

#bette sans soucie #plastique #barry allen #the flash #au #my fanfic #my fanfiction #the flash (2014)#3 times Bette was afraid

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lovehotelreservation · 4 years

Text

Angel Cake - Heavensent [1/?]

Summary: It had been a while since Mista had stepped foot into a church, but he knew an angel when he saw one. He was facing straight into hell, but just one glimpse at you saved him from his fate.

A collection of the day to day life between you and Mista.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Reader/Mista

[Next chapter]

AFTER SEEING HONRY MISTA ART, I’M GOING BACK TO MY LUNA ROOTS FOR THIS SLICE OF LIFE COLLECTION!!! THIS WILL BE UPDATED AS INSPIRATION COMES TO MIND, BUT WHAT I CAN SAY IS THAT U CAN EXPECT SOME FORM OF LEWDIEZ AT SOME POINT IN THE FUTURE

I HOPE U ENJOY!!!

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

Rare were the moments when Mista would turn to prayer.

Since his descent into Italy’s criminal underworld, he really had no place for religion in his life.

Especially when the soles of his Versace boots would just be tracking blood onto the church floor.

However, it was during these moments after a rough mission when he could barely make out the golden clouds of heaven that had him willingly call out to God.

With streaks of crimson on his face and a lit cigarette haphazardly stuck between his lips, Mista remained sprawled on the stairway. He couldn’t even recall why he was in this part of Italy in the first place.

There was a mission, he barely succeeded, and now he was about to expire while hiding away from an enemy famiglia like a coward.

His face was probably too fucked up at this point to even try Face ID on his phone and he was delirious from exhaustion to think about his passcode. Sex Pistols were just as drained to even try to look for help.

All he could do was stare blankly up at the night sky and wait for God to pick him up.

.’..sorry for that time I didn’t tell Giorno about Abbacchio pissing in his drink, sorry about that time me and Narancia pranked on Fugo for 7 months straight after he rejoined us, sorry for that time I accidentally snitched on Trish to Buccellati when she wanted to skip school for New York Fashion week, sorry for…’

He couldn’t even begin to think of the last time he sought forgiveness for his transgressions, let alone pray in thanks for a meal. Still, despite shrugging off mass for the longest, he couldn’t ever quite seem to part with the golden cross necklace that he wore underneath his sweater.

It was a gift from his grandparents upon his baptism as a baby. While the thin gold chain was changed out in length as he grew, the simple cross stayed the same.

Even when he began living alone, even when he took up life as part of Passione, the necklace remained with him always. A memento of the past, something to tie him to a greater being above. Whatever the reason may be, the necklace stayed.

At this rate though, Mista wasn’t going to be able to think of anything soon, let alone as to why he kept the necklace on his person.

His vision was blurring and he was beginning to feel a chill.

Sluggishly, he reached up to his neck, fumbling around for a sliver of metal before his fingers drew out his cross. The apologies in his mind were becoming more incoherent, jumbled. All he could do to express his repentance was spit out his cigarette and bring his necklace up to his lips as his eyes closed.

At least, up until the astonished gasp of ”Signor...! What-- What happened to you?!” caught his attention.

It was a struggle to get his eyes to open, but the sensation of soft warmth pressing against his cheek and then his neck motivated him to keep trying.

The moment he did, he was no longer looking up at the night sky, but at a glimpse of beauty.

Namely that of yours.

While Mista wasn’t aware of how stressed out you were as you fussed over his wounded state, he nuzzled up into your touch however much as he could while murmuring out,

”Angel, be gentle with me while you take me to the gates.”

#guido mista #jjba #reader insert #Angel Cake #Fic #queue've got me burning up

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wakaoujisenhime · 4 years

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Can a request a fic where levi's s/o is still in the underground and practically runs it then something happens (maybe scouts getting killed) which gets her to a trial (just like eren in s1) and she gets to the corps but she's as rude as she was on the trial even when she sees levi then somehow levi manages to make up with her?? idk please do your magic

A/N: Ok so I didn’t intend for this to turn out how it did! It’s actually quite funny how the trial became some kind of Danganronpa/Phoenix Wright hybrid, but I hope I could capture what you wished for! Please enjoy it .◟(ˊᗨˋ)◞.

and yes...the ending was planned to be that way ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Tags: Levi x reader ✅ SFW ✅ slight fluff ✅ minimal angst ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

You idiot - Levi x reader

Humanity’s strongest soldier was quite the nostalgic type of person, despite his appearance. If someone claimed that he would like to stare out his office’s window and reminisce about the good old times in the underground, people wouldn’t have believed that. Yet here he was doing exactly that.

For him, it was perhaps the hardest and most lonely time in his entire life. Had it not been for Furlan, Isabelle, and you.

At first, it had been just the three of them, you joined their crew later on after witnessing a fight between them and some of your teammates. After separating and calming them down you proceeded with an introduction of yourself.

(Y/N)...

You led the majority of the underground people and their respective crews almost like a mayor. Every shop and every inhabitant knew of your capable and fair way of handling confrontations or business in general. They knew, respected, and loved you, especially Levi.

At first, he was reluctant to be one of your many supporters so instead of relying on rumors, he decided to construct an image of you by himself based solely on his own impressions.

That was perhaps the first time he came across gossip that turned out to be based on reality. You exceeded his expectations in more ways than one.

Whatever you did or said had a great impact on Levi and even made him change some of his bad habits, abandoning his laid-back gangster lifestyle was one of his many changes.

And not soon after, the young man joined the survey corps - a decision he wasn’t so proud of, so he decided to keep it from you. Being able to leave the underground and be a part of that squad was something you had wished for since long ago, so he thought that this news would’ve scarred your friendship.

So after some months, he disappeared without telling you anything, leaving you behind confused, sad and a tad scared.

You asked yourself if you did anything wrong.

Did you upset him by any chance?

Why would he leave without telling you anything?

You were friends...right?

Levi’s sudden disappearance left you with a sour and hurt feeling. You tried to come up with an excuse that should’ve erased at least some of your negative thoughts, but you failed...

The man frowned as he remembered the expression you wore the moment you first saw him again...in court.

Erwin had sent some of the scouts down to the underground to recruit more soldiers, some weeks ago. On that day Levi had to do some paperwork so he stayed behind in the headquarters. You, on the other hand, had to run some errands at the other end of the underground, so you ended up missing the survey corps.

The moment you came back the thing you were greeted with first was a pair of cold handcuffs around your wrists.

“You killed some of our scouts and hid them behind building XX...the exact same building you came out of some minutes ago.”

That was the accusation the police had thrown at you, based on the fact that your boots were stained with a few drops of blood and that you were the only person without an alibi for the time of the crime.

The majority of your followers supported you and knew that you’d never commit such a crime - especially not against the organization you wanted to be a member of - but much to your dismay, the military police were way more adamant than anyone would’ve given them credit for.

It was just a matter of time and the news had already reached the captain’s ears.

“There’s no way (Y/N) would do that…!”, he thought.

Of course, as Erwin’s right-hand man he had to be present during your trial and stand there, accusing the woman he had so much respect and love for…

Love…

Since when did he fall in love with you? What was the trigger and why did he never mention it to you?

So many questions and he still hasn’t managed to find a single answer to any of them.

He wanted to sort his feelings out before the trial so that you could return to the underground as the innocent woman that you were before the accusations of murder had stained your white vest. Unfortunately, the firm knock on his office’s door signalized him that the trial was about to start, alas there was no time for him to rearrange his thoughts.

———

The trial had barely begun and almost everybody was ready to vote you as guilty.

Firstly some of the guards had to literally drag you to the pillar in the middle of the room, some bystanders even had to help out in restraining your struggling figure.

When they tried to tie you to the column though, you managed to throw one of the several men onto the ground.

If that had not been enough to shift the jury’s opinion about you then fear not, since that wasn’t the end of it.

You insulted the police, stating just how incompetent they were for arresting you just because of your old and dirty shoes. You even went as far as to actually spit in front of you the moment the judge had commanded you to stop yelling and resisting.

“What is that idiot thinking?”

Looking at the way you mocked the entire courtroom kept Levi on his toes the entire time and luckily there was a person who knew why and was willing to help him out.

“Excuse me, judge, may I speak?”

The deep and raspy voice of the survey corps’ leader echoed throughout the entire room, silencing not only you but also the entire bench. It was the first time you looked to your left side and noticed the familiar face that had apparently one focus - namely you.

“L-Levi…?”, you whispered in disbelief. And even though no one heard your silent voice, he was aware that your immediate change in behavior was caused by him.

“Right captain Ackermann?”

Erwin suddenly calling him in such a formal fashion was something the soldier would never get used to, but it was the wake-up call he needed right now. The black-haired man caught a glimpse of Hanji who was pointing at a thick stack of papers she held onto.

Evidence.

He cleared his throat and looked up at the elderly man who eagerly awaited what Levi had to say...

———

“(Y/N), hold up!”

“Stop following me Levi, I want to be alone right now!”

Ignoring your plea, the man took a hold of your wrist, causing you to freeze up and involuntarily oblige. You didn’t want to turn around and faze him, too afraid to show the happy and relieved face you were making.

The reason behind your good mood wasn’t because you were pronounced innocent, nor was it because your long-lived dream to join the survey corps had finally come true, no...

Levi had saved you...and the way he did it, made your heart race.

“Your honor, I’d like to run this case by you one more time…”

“If I’m correct, then the military police arrested miss (L/N), because she had no alibi during the time of the crime, correct?”

“Did the officers take her statement about where she was because there have been some new findings concerning that…”

“There have been several people who saw her talk to XX during the time some of our scouts were murdered.”

“Furthermore...it has come to our attention that another person was seen with the victims just before they lost their lives.”

“Oh and concerning the issue with her shoes...they’ve been this dirty since I’ve known her.”

“(Y/N)...look at me.”

You hesitated but after some time you once again gave in to his request.

“How long has it been since the two of us looked into each other’s eyes like that?”

“Since you left the underground...you jerk”, was your answer, and to make sure he understood that the insult was just a joke, you softly punched his upper arm.

The frown that contorted his features reminded you of what had happened just a few minutes ago.

Just a few minutes after the judge had agreed to pronounce you as innocent, the three main faces of the survey corps took you to their main office.

Erwin had then started a speech, talking about how they had found evidence that the real culprits behind the killings were actually aiming for you and whatnot. You didn’t or better you couldn’t listen to the man you once respected and dreamed to work for...at the moment the only person you gave your entire attention to was none other than Levi.

The two of you were looking at each other, your expressions perfectly recreating the inner turmoil that occupied both of your minds.

Guilt. Sadness. Worry. Anger.

Annoyance. Relief. Wonder. Countless questions.

It was evident that right now wasn’t the best time to tell you the reason you became part of the survey corps.

It was not because of your skills, but because of the judge’s fear that you’d run rampage if the jury had voted for guilty.

Unfortunately, Erwin wasn’t a man to sugarcoat the truth, so he straight out told you that it was all just a pretense and that right now you were under severe surveillance.

“I’m leaving.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not some of your reckless cadets that need surveillance 24/7, I’m a full-grown woman that can look out for herself and besides I think we all saw just how good your ‘surveillance’ was when your scouts were killed off down in the underground, didn’t we?”

“(Y/N), what are yo-“

“Shut up, you ungrateful prick. I’ve had my fill of jerk for today, so please refrain from talking to me and Sir Smith...I think we can agree that neither you nor I want to play babysitter so let’s all just take care of our own business without the whole ‘I’m the leader so I have to do this’ mentality, ok?”

After saying that you straight out left the room, not even bothering to close the door and that’s how Levi ended up following after you...which brings us to the present situation.

“Even after so many years, I see that you still haven’t changed that rude attitude of yours.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden retort and caused you to chuckle.

“Render me surprised...who would’ve thought that the adorable Levi Ackerman who used to look up to me would one day become so sassy.”

He should’ve at least cracked a smile at that, but he oddly didn’t and you had a hunch why.

“(Y/N)...I’d like to explain some things to you, so will you listen to me for a second?”

“Well it’s going to take more than just a second, isn’t it?”

The moment that question left your mouth, you instantly regretted it.

In truth, all you wanted was to finally clear things up between you guys and luckily Levi appeared to desire that as well.

“I’m sorry that I disappeared without telling you, but I was afraid that the moment you found out about the offer I had gotten, it might hurt you since I-“

“Since you got the position I wanted before me?“

A reluctant nod followed instead of an answer and all you could respond to that was: “You idiot.”

After that, you couldn’t help but laugh at how pointless all of it had seemed and not soon after the man in front of you joined in.

Your laughing voices resonated around the silent and usually dull halls of the survey corps headquarters.

Levi was laughing at himself and how stupid of him it was to assume your reaction beforehand, despite knowing full well that all you ever wanted was the absolute best for the people who were most important to you.

You were laughing at how immature your way of acting was towards the court, Erwin, and most importantly Levi. It was no secret that you felt bad for making him feel that way and it honestly surprised you at how much he had grown as a person since he’d left the underground. His growth had really surprised and impressed you at the same time, you even played with the thought of confessing to him right then and there, but then again...that might’ve been a little bit too much for your first ‘real’ conversation after so long.

Is now a good time...?

A pair of grey eyes looked at your laughing face as you slowly started walking away.

If not now...then when?

His hands were sweaty and trembled ever so slightly causing his nervousness to go up on a higher level than it already had been.

It’s now or never!

“Levi? What’s wrong..?“

The man just realized that he had held onto your hand, stopping you from walking just like before.

“(Y/N)...”

Do it!

“...”

#snk scenarios #aot scenarios #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi x reader #snk angst #aot angst #snk fluff #aot fluff #━𝚂𝙽𝙺 #━𝙰𝙾𝚃 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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bakusquadup · 5 years

Note

Same anon as before!! Some detailed descriptions of them would be absolutely awesome if you wouldn’t mind!! :D

Hey friend! I’m happy to provide some descriptions for you! All of them are under the cut.

Onishi and Yamamoto are at the top of the list because you mentioned them last time, but I included everyone else in PP just so I could have all the info in one place (it’s kinda a lot of characters, sorry). I still can’t believe anybody would consider drawing them 😭 Enjoy, I guess?

-Shelley

Just a note: I’m using feet and inches here because I’m more used to it, but obviously everything would translate to centimeters because most of them are Japanese

Onishi Tokito (aka RedBolt)

Body: SMOL boy. He’s not even five feet and yet he is full of rage (he’s about 4′10″, but tells people he’s 5′0″). And even though he’s small, he does have three years of UA hero courses under his belt and has enough muscle to get by. He has crimson red skin

Features: His hair is a slightly darker shade of red than his skin and his eyes are a slightly lighter shade of red and seem to glow slightly (they also reflect light like animal eyes). His hair is mid-length and shaggy, curling up at the ends naturally, but he will sometimes spike it up into a mohawk just because he thinks it looks cool (it doesn’t) and makes him taller. His eyes are wide and rounded, which makes him look younger than he is

Personality: He’s incredibly high-energy and is usually stuck in one of two moods: angry/bitter or smug/sarcastic, so he’s either smirking or frowning all the time. On the rare occassion that he genuinely smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle up and he has one dimple on his left side. He has a big sense of pride and likes to pick on others when he does better than them, but despises having the favor returned

Hero Costume: A baggy black jumpsuit that cuffs at the bottom like a pair of joggers and has a sleeveless top. He wears a thick red belt around his hips with small bags hanging off that hold small metal items (like screws and washers) and hand cream (because his hands dry out from using his quirk too much). In the colder months, he throws his favorite zip-up sweatshirt over top of the costume (it’s also red, he really likes red)

Quirk: “Red Lightning.” The true nature of his quick is hard to pin down, as it has the thin, branching sparks of electricity and its shocking capabilities, but it is a pale red and it seems to flow like a liquid. He’s speculated that it’s a combination of lava and electricity, but he doesn’t really care enough to figure it out

Other Info: He gets super competitive, even with things that he knows he’s bad at, so he’s known to cheat at any competition that he feels he needs to. He’s probably only ever said sorry twice in his life

Yamamoto Kei (aka Midas)

Body: Super tall and lanky. He stands at about 6'6", but he also hunches, so it’s more like 6'8" when his posture is good. He’s a certified bean pole that shot up in first year of high school, but never gained the weight to fill out his frame. He’s so pale, his skin seems to be transparent sometimes

Features: He has two different colored eyes, which are slanted and narrow. His right eye is gold, which is his natural color and the other is a muted brown. The brown eye is a piece of tech that a support company built for him when he lost his left eye in second year during finals. There is a thick pink scar running around the outside of his left eye, which he likes to show off because he thinks it’s badass. His hair is just above chin length, dark brown (almost black), and perfectly straight. His fringe covers his gold eye because he likes to hide it and he can see better out of the artificial eye

Personality: Yamamoto is pretty low-key most of the time. He speaks in a low voice and really only contributes to conversation when he feels he has something worth saying (although, sometimes those important topics are just a dumb meme). The only one that’s able to really rile him up is Onishi because he draws out Yamamoto’s competitiveness. He does have a slight wild streak as he loves anything thrilling and may act a little crazy when it comes to seeking those things out

Hero Costume: He wears many separate items so if he needs to solidify one of them with his quirk, not everything solidifies right away, limiting his mobility. Has loose black shorts with thick gold stripes that run down the outside of his legs. Under that, he wears black compression sleeves with two royal blue stripes and one thinner gold stripe between them. The compression sleeves are tucked into knee-high black boots with fabric soles to allow him to slide on smooth surfaces, but sometimes they will appear gold when he needs to activate his quirk on them (the weight it great for kicking enemies!). On top, he wears a matching black tank top with the same gold stripes. He has a royal blue belt that clips around his waist with a gold buckle shaped like a crown. He also wears the same compression sleeves on his arms and a pair of royal blue fingerless gloves

Quirk: “Golden Touch.” Pretty much self-explanatory. He is able to turn the things he touches into gold (any part of his body, not just his hands), but it acts more like a golden shell rather than solid gold. He can also remove the gold whenever he wants without injuring a living thing inside it. If he keeps his quirk activated, it will not only solidify the thing he is directly touching, but whatever that item is touching as well. For example, if someone grabs his jacket sleeve, he will solidify his jacket and then eventually the person holding him (although, he tries to avoid this because his clothes become much heavier). He can use this to skate along the ground by creating a path on the ground and sliding with his specially-designed boots

Other Info: He will sometimes pin his hair up during hero training because of its length (he doesn’t like the sensation of it flopping around while he’s running). Because of this, he always has bobby pins in his pockets and the girls have started going to him if they need some

Amy Coleman (aka Oracole)

Body: Tall and lean. She’s just under 6′0″ and has a dancer’s frame with long limbs and toned muscles. She has naturally tan skin, but does not tan more if she’s out in the sun, only freckles a little

Features: She has white-blond hair that previous went down to her waist and is naturally straight. She would wear it in a tight ponytail, until it got singed off by Endeavor. It is now chin-length, so she curls it in the morning to get a wavy texture and more volume. Her eyes are piercing ice blue and angle down on the outside. Her brows are darker than her hair, closer to dirty blond. She has a spattering of very faint freckles across her nose

Personality: She’s very outgoing and loud; always willing to make a friend and needs to know what’s going on at all times (basically, a typical American). This can often be her downfall, as she ends up as somewhat of a gossip. She feels that any information she gained without the help of her quirk is fair game for her to talk about. She’s generally high-energy and gets riled-up easily, except when she is using her quirk, in which case she makes a complete 180

Hero Costume: She wears a dark teal fitted jumpsuit with a high neck, ¾ sleeves, and white white piping that runs up her limps and down the center of her torso. Over top of it, she wears a black corset-like/belt thing around her ribcage. It’s wide and has two clasps that hang down and connect to the bags strapped around her legs (also black). She wears black, steel-toed combat boots on her feet that her father bought her from an army-navy surplus store back in the U.S.

Quirk: “Third Eye.” When her quirk is activated, she gains the ability to see into the future or events that are currently happening for which, she is not present. She does not use it to see far into the future and it tends to get unreliable and multiple possibilities arise, but she will use it for events within a couple minutes to allow for preparedness when fighting. She also uses it to keep an eye on her teammates in the middle of a training session. No, she does not use it to cheat on exams

Other Info: Whenever she gets too excited, her American accent becomes more pronounced and she starts making grammar mistakes. Her accent is always a little present, but it becomes much worse. She will also occassionally swear in English (Onishi has started picking up on them and copying her)

Suzuki Youta (aka Umbra)

Body: He’s about average at 5′7″. He has some muscle, but he’s also on the scrawnier side because he relies on his quirk most of the time. He hasn’t built up the bulk that some hand-to-hand fighters have. His skin is pitch black, so it’s sometimes hard to see his features unless in direct light

Features: His hair and whites of his eyes are also black, but because they aren’t matte like his skin, they reflect light and are a little easier to see. His hair is short on the sides and a little longer on top, puffing up when it gets frizzy. It’s difficult to discern his appearance head-on without pointing a light directly at his face, but he has narrow eyes with monolids and a rounded nose. When looking at him from the side or back, he just appears to be a silhouette

Personality: Suzuki is a man of few words, speaking very little except to Inoue and choosing his words very carefully. He has a keen eye for detail and analysis, so he is very good at determining someone’s weakness and how to take them down or make them improve. For this reason, he is often sought out by classmates for training tips, but the attention makes him uncomfortable

Hero Costume: It’s literally just a jet black body suit. It has some structure to it, like bubbled-out sleeves and slouchy pants, but it’s meant to blend in with his skin. The only item he carries with him is a metal flashlight that fits into a pouch on his suit. He’s going for an aesthetic and damn, if he’s not gonna stick to it

Quirk: “Shadow Manipulation.” He can manipulate his shadow to do as he wills it, including things like grab people, holds falling structures, slide under doors to see inside the room, etc. If he is standing in the shadow of a larger object, such as a tree or something, he can control the larger object’s shadow, but only if the surrounding area is light. This means, he cannot control anything in total darkness (he’s basically useless) or on cloudy days. He needs a very defined shadow, which is why he carries a flashlight, so he can at least make a small shadow to work with. He’s best on very sunny days

Other Info: He doesn’t get very animated, except when talking to Inoue. Sometimes, classmates will sneak up to conversations between the two of them in a hopes of catching one of Suzuki’s rare smiles (his teeth are also black, don’t get too excited though)

Inoue Yumiko (aka Alchemia)

Body: 4′11″ and besides that, pretty much average in every other way. She has an average build without much muscle because she mostly relies on her quirk. She has a medium-light skintone that is more warm-toned

Features: She has cute, rounded features with a small rounded nose and wide, dark-brown eyes. Her face is very circular. She has dark brown hair with a slight wave to it that comes down to her mid-back. In comparison to her classmates, she is probably the most “ordinary” looking

Personality: Pretty much everyone likes Inoue. She is kind, smart, and humble, so most of the class likes being able to work with her on anything. She has a tendency to be indecisive, which is unideal for hero work, and she sometimes has a hard time speaking her mind because she doesn’t like conflict

Hero Costume: A sky blue and grey outfit with wide-leg shorts, a sleeveless top with a slouchy, layered neck and thigh-high matching socks that tuck into a pair of high-top sneakers. The outfit has silvery triangles that go around her hips, the cuff on her shorts are silver, and the soles of her sneakers are as well

Quirk: “Morph.” She can transform anything she touches into a different shape/molecular configuration so long as it has the same chemical makeup (i.e. no making diamond from iron, sorry). She has the easiest time just changing the shape of something, like turning a steel pipe into a sword, but can do more complicated transformations when given more time

Other Info: Her younger sister is a first year in the general studies department. She (the sister) didn’t want to be a hero and doesn’t really have a quirk strong enough for it, but she wanted the connections that came from going to UA

Himura Kenji (aka Obsidian Fire)

Body: Taller than average at about 5′10″ and with a lean build. He is trained for hand-to-hand combat, but is more agile than just strong, so he does not have the bulk of somelike like Mirio, for example. He has relatively pale, cool-toned skin

Features: He has short, inky-black hair that he normally slicks back with gel (he’s not ugly, so it looks good on him, but it’s still douchey looking). His eyes are firey red, narrow, and many would describe them as “boring a hole through your eyes” based on the cold intensity behind them. He is classically handsome, with high cheekbones, a narrow nose, and sharp jawline, but he’s also one of those people that once you know their personality, they aren’t as attractive

Personality: Selfish and competitive. As he has gone through training at UVA, he’s slowly developed a superiority complex and often treats those he deems unworthy significantly worse (he especially hates Quirkless people). He is rather talented and intelligent and, because he puts on a mask for the public, people tend to like him initially. Most of the hero course hates him, but students in the other courses usually like him

Hero Costume: His top is fitted and long-sleeve and has a thick black lapel, similar to a tuxedo, and there are two black bands around his wrists. For his pants, he wears solid black with grey kneepads and a pair of low grey boots (shapes similarly to Timberlands) with tungsten soles. His clothes are all made from a high-tech breathable fabric that can resist extremely high temepratures

Quirk: “Heat.” Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Himura can produce heat from his hands in the form of a dark red glow. If he directs it in a very specific beam, he can cause it to stretch further. Currently, his maximum temperature is just over 4000 degrees F, so hot enough to melt most metals, but not things like Tungsten. In first year, it was closer to 2000 degrees

Other Info: Himura actually has a close friend in the support department. The two of them collaborate on a lot of stuff and he is probably the only person at UA that Himura will be a genuine person around without acting like a complete asshole. No one has figured out why he’s so special

Ishigaki Kaito (aka Dagger Fin)

Body: He’s about 5′9″ and he’s partially a shark, so he has a giant shark head with gills and his fins come out in the water. Because of the shark head, he’s pretty thicc. Bluish-grey skin that matches his quirk

Features: What do you want me to say? He’s a fucking shark man (think great white). He doesn’t have any hair. His eyes are jet black

Personality: Ishigaki (who insists everyone call him Kaito) is very outgoing and excitable. He doesn’t have the best social skills as he’s on the dorky side and has a hard time conveying what he means, but he’s easy to like and fun to talk to. He’s definitely not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it with raw enthusiasm

Hero Costume: It’s basically just a wetsuit made from a more breathable, thinner material so he can swim faster

Quirk: “Shark.” I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory. He can do basically anything a shark can in the water and some of it out of the water. Highlights include: High speed swimming! Multiple rows of teeth and powerful jaws! Sensing electric fields!

Other Info: When coming up with a hero name, he first chose “Shark Boy,” but he got yelled at for stealing the name of an American hero. As a joke, he still repeatedly tells people he’s “just a Shark Boy, looking for his Lava Girl”

Fujii Megumi, Megu for short (aka Lancette)

Body: Another smol child. She’s not super short (about 5′0″), but she’s very skinny. She has some muscle on her body and it’s quite defined because she has so little fat. She’s albino, so she has very white skin

Features: As mentioned before, she’s albino, so she has blond hair that is practically white with eyebrows and eyelashes that match. Her hair is very straight and thick and goes down to her butt to help her quirk. Her eyes are wide and constantly look like a deer in headlights because they’re so big. Her eyes are a light reddy-pink color

Personality: Megu is slow to open up to people, generally wary of strangers and quiet around those she hasn’t spent much time with. Once she has opened up to you though, she has a quick temper and hotheaded personality. She often winds up in arguments with Onishi because he likes to push at her buttons or Ishigaki because he’s a little inept at talking to girls. Sachi is her closest friend in the class and she would do absolutely anything for the people that she cares about. Her loyalty runs deep

Hero Costume: A full-body light pink fitted suit with overlapping white rings along her hips, shoulders, ankles, and wrists.

Quirk: “Dagger Hair.” She can sharpen her hair into blades that float around her and can grow and shrink at will. Because it hardens into a nearly impenetrable material, she can also use it as a defense

Other Info:

Mifune Sachiko, Sachi for short (aka Sachi)

Body: She is about 5′5″ and is on the curvier side, again with the normal muscle that someone would have from constant training. She’s half-black, half-Japanese because her dad’s American, so she has a darker skin than her classmates

Features: She has dark brown, almost black eyes that are almond shaped with long lashes. She has very curly, black hair that comes down to her shoulders and she parts in the middle

Personality: Sachi doesn’t like to be involved in drama, so she often comes across as a silent observer. She’s generally more mature than some of her classmates (*cough* Onishi *cough*) and is more laidback. She’s more open and accepting of differences between people and because she thought she was quirkless for a while, she doesn’t discriminate. Because of her relaxed attitude, she can come across as cold and uncaring

Hero Costume: Her costume leaves a lot of exposed skin so she can touch people (must be her actual skin, not clothes), so she has neon yellow biker shorts and a matching high-necked sports bra. A black cursive S runs along the right thigh of her shorts. She also wears a pair of distance-vision goggles that help her see what villains she may be attracted to from afar

Quirk: “Attraction.” She can make anybody that she thinks is attractive into a zombie of sorts, so long as she touches them. Their minds and eyes will go fuzzy and they automatically move to protect her. Many people misunderstand her quirk and think it either applies to anybody or think it only applies to men, but she’s pansexual and it’s just whoever she thinks is cute. Just for fun, here’s a list of people in the class that her quirk works on: Yamamoto, Amy, Mirio, Hadou, Inoue, Suzuki, Himura, and Reader. She thought she was quirkless until she was about 12, because she didn’t get the whole attraction thing until then

Other Info: Because she’s got bigger boobs than many of her classmates, she dealt with quite a bit of harrassment her first year at UA. Some of her classmates didn’t like that and so developed the Sachi Protection Squad (Ishigaki, Megu, Suzuki, and Inoue). She doesn’t really need the help because she can kick-ass, but they like doing it anyway. Also, she knows English because of her dad, so Amy and she can be seen whispering in English to each other sometimes

#anon #asks #shut up shelley #my ocs #powerless prevail #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #i know this is not what you were probably looking for but im just saving this for reference lol

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creditalibi21 · 2 years

Text

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#Wolf Script #Where there are sheep #The wolves are never very far away

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junkpoetic · 3 years

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We are writing a novel as we go. This is in the moment unedited. It’s probably a horrible a idea but why not? This is a story of friendship and the ties that bind Elliot and Paulie. Let’s have fun creating something in the moment.

Cheers. -K.P.

Swimming Into View by K.P. DeLaney

One.

Paul Buchanan.

The peculiar thing about time is that you think you have it until you don’t. This was especially true for Elliot Knox, who now in his late forties, still hasn’t accomplished most of his goals in life. Sure, he went to college, but he never graduated. He dropped out to work at a party supply store before moving away from the northeast to North Carolina to work at another party supply store before realizing he in fact had no money and no future in Carolina. He moved back home and went back to community college before dropping out again. The wave of life carried him along through his twenties and he okay despite what he would tell you. If Elliot were telling this story, it would be heavily self-deprecated and depressing, so I am not going to let him do that for the sake of the story.

Elliot began running at quite a young age. It’s foggy when he actually began taking it seriously, however it’s safe to say it was sometime during adolescence. He was never the fastest but kept a pretty good pace and won a few events for the South Hinder Lions, his high school track team. He kept running right on through his twenties, but on and off cigarettes, and a healthy drinking habit kept him out of shape. He would go months without running until something happened to trigger a startup. Triggers included breaking up with Louise, which he did several times in his early twenties, much less in his later twenties until he married her months before his thirtieth birthday. Other triggers included one-night stands during the days he and Louise were not together. Also, nights when the alcohol took over and he felt incredibly awful… running always made the awful better. If not for Louise, I am not sure if Elliot would have made it out of his twenties. In fact, I am sure of it because I saved his life. It’s the only reason he agreed to let me document his marathon but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Every year, for probably last fifteen or so, the two of us took a trip to Boston and spent a week fucking around. It was the one week a year we would become unhinged. We had pact. What happens, happens and that was the end of it. No matter what, never spoken of again. The early years we dubbed “The Larry Bird Years” because well, Larry Bird was a fucking problem, and the city was electric. We happened to be there June 7th, 1986 when Bird posted a triple double and shot down the Rockets giving the Celtics their sixteenth title. We weren’t at the game, but we were at a pub on Causeway Street doing shots of tequila with women we hardly knew. The game wasn’t even close, but Madeline and Carol were… the devil is in the details and hopefully by the time Louise reads this it’ll folklore. I had never seen Elliot unhinged. He’d never tell me, but I am pretty sure it was the first night he ever tried cocaine. See Madeline’s nickname was MadeLines. I still can’t get him to admit it, but he would never deny it either. He kept in touch with her every year when we returned, but the trips sobered as we grew older. When we were younger, we’d a share a hotel room. Now we like our own space but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.

I became a writer while Elliot was fucking off his twenties. I am novelist still trying write a best seller. In the meantime, I do freelance work. I am happily married to the same Carol that we met years ago the night the Celtics took the title with two children of our own. Elliot is my daughter’s godfather. Life is comfortable and completely okay. The trip to Boston is probably the most exciting week out of my year nowadays and I am okay with that. I don’t want to digress; this is Elliot’s story.

Somewhere amid the blur that was last year’s trip, Elliot and I had a conversation about how we used to be and how we are no longer the same men that were years ago. Time and evolution have eroded us into shells of what we once were. To me that’s life and I don’t have a problem with it. I am okay with being a forty-seven-year-old fading into obscurity. But Elliot wasn’t. He grew upset with himself that he no longer could stay out all night. He no longer could eat the foods he used to it. His libido had diminished… well not his, but Louise’s. His belly flab had gotten out of control, and he hadn’t run a mile in at least six years. So, after a few drinks, he came up with the crazy idea that he would run the Boston Marathon. I called this idea bullshit, and ridiculous but here we are.

The thing about Elliot is he doesn’t ever take the time to master something. Sure, I believe if he really wanted to run a marathon he could. If he changed his diet and trained properly, why not? Elliot’s year of training consisted of zero training. He maintained the same diet and drank. He even snuck a cigarette here and there when Louise wasn’t home, or out behind his garage when she was home. Even the days before the marathon, he turned back time. He vowed to stay out late like we used to. I tried to keep up but sleep beckoned. He reconnected with Madeline who never really opened up about her personal life. She had an indent of where a wedding ring would go, otherwise the only jewelry she wore was a gold crucifix around her neck that hovered just above the small amount cleavage she revealed. He could not help her attraction to her. She was so magnetic, and he was a paper clip. Elliot kept her mostly to himself. They’d meet up after I would call it a night. She’d meet us for brunch usually once every trip and Elliot made it sound like they were only friends. He played it off like they hadn’t spoken other than when they’d reconnect on our trips, but I am not an idiot.

We arrived in Boston on October 6th, four days before the race. Elliot bought a pair of red Asics from a local sporting goods store then ran seven miles the first day and three miles on the second day. He rested on the third day and by rested, I mean that he ate pizza, drank Sam Adams, and fucked Madeline once before bed, once around three in the morning, and once more in the morning. Thankfully he refrained from smoking as far as I know. I had to shake my head when I heard her leaving his room about an hour before he had to report.

The deal was that he finished the race, it did not matter how long it took him. I wired him so he could talk to me throughout the duration. That’s how I took my notes and then afterward we would sit down and go over my notes and he could add to them. For me, I wanted it to be Elliot’s story. His brain. His journey. I am just the vehicle putting the ink on paper. I spoke with Carol briefly before meeting Elliot for eggs and toast and then I proceeded to set up my computer at a Starbucks a block from the finish line.

The thing I admire about Elliot is his willingness. He simply believes things into reality. I do find it hard to believe that you can just get up and run a marathon. But he believes it and that’s really all the training he needed. To be honest I think he got the idea when he saw a feel-good story about a dog that followed its owner running a marathon and finished. He figured one mile was no different than twenty-six point two and if a dog could do it, he could too. He figured seven hours of sleep and two jugs of Pedialyte, and a light breakfast would suffice…

I mentioned before that I saved his life. I think since then he’s always felt like he owes me for that. He has always tried to help me come up with the perfect story to write and become published because he’s known that has been my dream since we were kids in English class. He hated English class, so naturally I let him copy my notes and helped him cheat on tests when I could. That’s what friends do… whatever it takes. I have a small suspicion that he is running the race in attempt to give me a good story. I think a small part of him wants to prove to himself that he can do it but if he truly wanted to do it for himself, I think he would have trained at least in the slightest.

It was a warm October morning. Much too warm for October, but probably perfect for running a marathon. Once I booted up my computer, I put my headphones and suddenly could hear the rustling of the microphone against the inside of Elliot’s shirt. His breathing was calm. We ran a microphone check and then it was all systems go.

“Can you hear me E?”

“Roger that, Paulie.”

“You sure you want to do this pal?”

“Born to run baby.” He laughed.

“Alright, I am going silent. We’re recording now, anything you say can and will be used against you.” I teased and pressed record.

“Remember when we beat that school from Syracuse for the state title?”

I kept my promise of silence.

“We’re going to do it again today Paulie.” He continued.

He proceeded to laugh and clapped his hands together twice in order to hype himself up.

“You remember the night you lost your virginity Paulie? The whole town caught wind of it within the hour… only victories today.”

I laughed although I am incredibly nervous for what he is about to put his body through. Why I am I the one who has the anxiety?

Elliot Knox

“Jesus, it’s a fucking ocean of bodies, I can hardly jog without stepping on someone else’s rubber soles. Remember that scene in Titanic when the boat just sank, and it was arms and legs flailing on top of one another? I think that’s what this is like only on land of course. I think I already have to take a piss. Way too much Pedialyte. Fuck. You remember that day we pissed ourselves to get out of school? Epic idea on your part. I remember I was sitting next to Alice Templeton. I think she may have had a crush on me, until that moment of course. Was that the same day Mikey Porter got beat up? I wish you would answer me… I can literally hear the room you’re in. Dishes clanking, fuck, I really have to pee.”

.73 miles- Stops off to urinate in neighborhood shrubbery.

“Ahhhh. Much better.”

“Jesus E, you haven’t even gone a mile.” Paulie laughed.

“I thought you were radio silent?”

“I’ll make exceptions.”

“Hey if you put music for me on will it fuck up communication?”

“Probably.”

“Well, that sucks.”

He shook his dick in the shrubbery before putting it back in his shorts and resumed running.

“Smooth sailing now Paulie.” An empty bladder took care of a lot of things. Not to mention a lot of runners passed him while he was stopped so he had much more room to run. Much more room to breathe. Space is an incredible thing.

He talked about how fresh his legs felt. That first mile was the most important one to him. Sometimes you run and it’s really evident that you’re running. And then sometimes you run, and the feeling is weightless, which of course, is why you run in the first place. That fresh feeling is something he was able to maintain. He was always the same through the years. No matter what age we were, he was the same. Like your old childhood bedroom… it never changes. No matter, it will always smell like you. It will always your room. Time goes on yet the room stays a tattoo in time. The fingerprints on the walls. The dents in the sheetrock. The accidental paint splatter from when the steady hand slipped onto the ceiling. Even the dust remained the same. I think about the things that have happened in my world since I left my childhood bedroom. That room still sits patiently holding everything that made me. It’s comforting and sad simultaneously the way things never stop moving.

1.34 miles- Sneezes twice. Stops and looks at the road behind him.

“I am feeling strong Paulie. You still doubting me?” Elliot teased.

“You still have almost twenty-five miles to go.” Paulie could not help but join the banter.

“Don’t do that. Just like last night when you commented on my fourth Sam Adams. It’s very poor taste.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hard to watch my friend drink a brewery before running a marathon.”

“You’ve always looked out for me man. I appreciate you.”

“Let’s not get mushy; long road ahead.”

“Ten four, roger that, rubber ducky.”

“Asshole, save breath for words that actually matter.”

“By the way, has the Sox game started?”

“Almost… you really going to bet on it while running a marathon?”

“I need something man.” He laughed. “They play Toronto?”

“Yeah, the Blue Jays are favored.”

“Put a hundred on the Sox for me. No way they lose today.”

Paulie laughed and then made a phone call and placed the bet for Elliot.

He began humming a song because the silence and the sound of his footsteps slapping the against the pavement became so monotonous. I had a hard time deciphering the song at first and then it clicked that it was Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way. Around noon I packed up my things and made way for a bar. I wanted be able to watch the game while talking to Elliot.

2.3 miles – first sign of cramping.

“I have to stop for a second Paulie.”

I guffawed “It’s been two miles!”

“Relax. I got this.”

I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge Elliot’s problems. He emphasized how real he wanted this story to be. He said zero restrictions and that he was okay with me exposing flaw. He was always so interesting in the sense that he accepted his flaws so freely, yet never wanted to put anyone out by asking for help. He was strong to acknowledge flaw, yet too weak to fix them. The way he saw it, we all have flaws and there’s no escaping that. So why not embrace them? He liked to gamble. He drank too much. He loved the art of fucking so much I have to wonder if that was an addiction too. But what’s the point in putting him under a microscope? Life is short. He’s fucking happy. Or at least I think he is. He seems like he just to wants to live until he dies. It’s really quite refreshing seeing him in the wild. These annual trips to Boston are just that. Wild. He is running the God damn Boston Marathon on zero training just for the fuck of it. As I am writing this I am realizing what I love most about my friend. He does what he wants and celebrates every day that he is alive. That perspective is incredibly dangerous for orthodox living, and I completely envy it. Every year, the moment the wheels hit the freeway, he comes undone, and we are seventeen again. And I fucking adore everything about that.

#novel literature

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samingtonwilson · 7 years

Text

7 Things Said on Leonard’s Couch

Summary: Leonard McCoy’s couch is host to many conversations.

Warnings: language

A/N: first vignette style fic with len! i wish i liked this a lot more. there are parts of it that i love, though

one

It’d been a long day.

Between chasing after Jim to make sure he would actually attend his physical and admonishing Jim for making you chase after him, you were exhausted. You needed a long shower, an even longer nap, and the absolute longest break.

But, of course, being a physician aboard the Enterprise meant your showers were never long enough, your naps were far too short, and breaks were infrequent. You had to find relaxation in the little things and your favorite thing to find relaxation in, or rather on, was Leonard’s couch.

You were seated at the far right, your back against the light grey armrest and your legs outstretched before you. You’d abandoned your boots in the corner of his quarters long ago, spreading your toes and contracting them only to repeat the process with a little more wiggle each time.

Leonard’s eyes stayed on your hands, though. From where he sat at the far left, seated the correct way so his feet were flat on the ground, his eyes didn’t waver from the bright red liquid in your glass. He watched as the disgusting, overly sugared sports drink sloshed against the walls of glass on one side, then sloshed against the other with each of your small movements.

He wanted to reach out and snatch the glass away, he wanted to dump the drink down the drain. Sure, he could argue he was dumping it for your own good— that many grams of sugar per serving could never be canceled out no matter the electrolytic value— but he really wanted to dump it for fear that his light grey couch might bear a bright red stain, a stain he would never get out no matter how obsessively he scrubbed at it.

You brought the glass to your lips, taking a long sip but ultimately only taking down a cubic centimeter of its volume.

He sighed in discontent, his leg bouncing in agitation.

“Something wrong, Len?”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, the hazel distant and pinched with worry. He shook his head, muttering unconvincingly, “Tired is all.”

Once he finished talking, his sharp gaze went right back to your glass. He watched as you turned it in your hands, watched as you purposely let the liquid move from left to right, watched as you had the audacity to swirl it as if it was expensive wine and not a drink football coaches would be bathed in after a successful match.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you lifted the glass to your lips again. You sighed and lowered it without taking a sip. “I thought you said this stuff’s disgusting.”

He scowled, his gaze still fixed and pointed. “It is. S’like downin’ an entire jar of sugar.”

“Then why are you staring at it like it holds all the wonders of the universe?”

“No reason.”

You shrugged a shoulder, still thoroughly unconvinced but you decided to let it go. It wasn’t until a small drop dribbled down the outside wall of the glass, splashing unnoticeably against the couch cushion beneath you that you finally understood his problem.

“That’s it!” he shouted, pushing his tired body from the sofa and snatching the glass from you. “No more fuckin’ neon drinks on this couch! You’re stainin’ everything!”

Of course, he should’ve realized the violent movements of his hands would send what remained in the glass spilling all over his blue uniform tunic, creating a much bigger stain than you probably ever would. But it was too late.

He didn’t scold you when you laughed, though, he only chuckled with you as you threw your head back and tears slipped from the corners of your eyes.

two

Three hours ago, you planted yourself on Leonard’s couch, right in the middle with your legs folded onto the surface. Three hours ago, you fired up your PADD and pulled up a novel Jim had begged you to read months ago but you’d blown off in the name of irritating him as much as possible. Three hours ago, you began staring at the screen with a forgotten plate of browning apple slices beside you and sat almost perfectly still, save for your scrolling finger.

Leonard had gotten a lot done in that amount of time. He’d tidied up his bed, scrubbed down all the dishes, wiped down every surface, and folded all of his laundry. He would glance at you every few minutes, though, hoping you would set the goddamn tablet down and look at him, or talk to him, or just pay him the slightest attention.

He knew you liked his couch— you claimed it was far cozier than the couch in your quarters as the fabric was insanely soft and the cushioning was so fucking fluffy. He had just always held out a little bit of hope that maybe it wasn’t the couch you liked so much— maybe it was his company. You were around one another all day anyway in the medbay and, during meal times and shore leaves, you never strayed too far from the group of friends you’d made during your Academy days— a group Jim always called the dream team as it consisted of the captain himself, Leonard, you, a preliminarily reluctant Uhura that would now lay down her life for any of you, and a still very reluctant Spock.

There was always a part of him that thought those signs pointed towards you liking him as much as he’d always liked you. With your loud laugh, quick-witted sense of humor, and total lack of ability to take shit from him or anyone else, you were exactly what he needed and he thought maybe you’d see and understand his characteristics and realize he was exactly what you needed, too.

There was a corny, cheesy, cliche part of him that found comfort in the whole alternate universe thing Spock Prime explained to you all years ago as it meant there was another version of him somewhere, in some reality that had you, that got to love you as openly as this reality’s Leonard really wanted to. But he continued to hope that somehow the universe the two of you ended up together in was this one— he would’ve given anything for that.

But your infatuation seemed to be solely with his couch, the time display now indicating you’d been seated in the same spot for four hours.

He decided enough was enough. With a slapping of his hands against the freshly polished counter he stood behind, he gained your attention easily. He frowned. “Sugar, don’t you think you should be gettin’ up soon?”

“Why?”

“‘M not lookin’ forward to having a you-shaped dent in my fuckin’ couch cushions for the rest of our time up here.” He sighed. “You need activity.”

You looked back down. “Reading is an activity.”

“Activity involving movement.”

“Listening to you lecture me is creating a lot of downward movement right here,” you answered, pointing to your lips that were now weighed down in a frown.

Despite himself, Leonard cracked a smile and snorted. “Get the fuck up, time for dinner.”

“Where are your Southern manners? Where is that Southern hospitality?”

“You’re leavin’ an ass print in my couch. You don’t deserve Southern manners or hospitality.”

three

The away mission was supposed to take less time than it did. It was meant to be a quick trip down with the intention of resupplying a sorely lacking Federation hospital with some of the many medical tools on board neither you or Leonard thought twice about keeping— after all, they needed it more.

But, because the attack-prone border planet was so remote and so cut-off from the many advances every other planet now relied on, the two of you and your many overly-competent nurses stayed put for hours just teaching the hospital staff the basics of each tool and what to do if one of the many rogue Klingon attacks depleted them of any necessities, like electricity.

It was safe to say you were standing on weak legs the instant you were beamed back. After the debriefing Leonard thought was nothing short of completely useless, he guided you with whatever strength he had remaining to his quarters and didn’t have to ask twice for you to make yourself at home.

He replicated a nice mug of coffee for himself and an even nicer mug of peppermint tea for you, the steam warming the cold tip of your nose as soon as you took the blue ceramic vessel from him.

He sighed as he sat back, tipping his nose upwards so he stared at the ceiling. “What if they run out of supplies sooner than we anticipated?”

“The Bradbury’s heading in this direction— should be passing by here in, like, two months time,” you said, the tiredness caking your voice surprising to the both of you. “Could just warp over if need be.”

He turned his head to look at you, your own head tipped back like his but your eyes shut. “Darlin’, you sound exhausted.”

You lifted your tired lids and face him as well. You traced the lines on his face that were more pronounced with his own state of burnout, his dark hair messy and his eyes dull. “That’s because I am exhausted.”

He nodded, straightening out his position and pointing towards your legs. “Put ‘em up here, come on.”

You lifted your head only to tilt it questioningly.

“Put your legs on the couch, sweetheart. If there’s one thing these legendary hands are good for, it’s an excellent foot rub.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

four

Jim sat across from you, his elbows on his knees and his chin upon his palm. He tilted his head as he looked at you, blue eyes wide and filled with enough concern to drown you and the rest of the Enterprise crew. He didn’t say much, though. He just took random sips of his drink and nodded every so often.

Leonard sat beside you, his arm draped over the back of the couch so he could run his hand up and down your upper arm or give your shoulders a squeeze if need be. His gaze never left your red-rimmed eyes, your trembling lips, your restless fingers. He didn’t say much either. He just clenched his jaw in anger and loosened it each time you looked his way.

His hands were made for healing. Everything he’d been taught in medical school, during his residency, his fellowship, and his years in Starfleet Academy pointed toward only using his skills to mend, to treat, to fix. But right now, as he saw tears leave your eyes and hiccups break your breaths, he wanted nothing more than to use those same hands to hurt the person that had the nerve to leave you like this.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t overstep, he couldn’t intervene, he couldn’t impose a permanent solution on a temporary problem— it wasn’t his place and he knew that, especially when it came to the goings on of your family back on Earth. It was only his place to comfort you, to listen to you, to be there for you— and that’s what he did.

“Move into my place when we get back,” Jim suggested, smiling a little when you scoffed. “I’m serious! I keep the place clean, I’ve got premium cable, I cook—”

Leonard snorted. “You can barely boil water.”

“Okay, well, I can order takeout,” he amended, laughing when you cracked a smile. “We’ll change your number, too. Maybe even your name. Keep you totally hidden.”

“Then we’ll burn your fuckin’ fingerprints off and get you a new social security number,” Leonard added dryly, rolling his eyes. “Go the full nine yards and pay for plastic surgery. No one’ll find you.”

You finally laughed, the sound taking Leonard’s scowl and practically flipping it. You sighed then, rubbing your tired eyes. “Tell you what, I’ll take you guys up on that the day the government finds all the bodies I’ve buried in Golden Gate Park.”

“What about the ones in Half Moon Bay?” Jim asked, a single thick eyebrow raised.

“They’ll never find those,” you winked, shaking your head. “Fuck, I’m so tired.”

“Sleep here.”

Your eyes found Leonard’s, trying to find a hint of humor over his features as you blinked moisture away. “What?”

“Sleep here,” he shrugged. “You said you didn’t want to be alone and it doesn’t have to be on the couch, I can take the couch. You just need to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Can’t sleep in the bed with me, Len?” you asked with a tilted head and a small smile, that glint in your eyes he loved so much causing his stomach to flip. “Afraid you’ll join the bodies buried in Half Moon Bay?”

Jim, watching the two of you with a grin, nodded at Leonard when the latter glanced his way. If he had it his way, he’d be lighting lavender scented candles and turning on some mood music before leaving. Something to get the two of you to go at it already.

five

You were due to depart the Enterprise in less than an hour for a well-deserved shore leave and your sense of urgency increased tenfold with each passing second.

Leonard had never seen you like that before. Hair wild, eyes wide, lip bitten. Each time you cursed loudly and whimpered, he needed to shift in his seat and look away. It didn’t help that you were bending over the couch every few seconds, clawing at the cushions and kneeling to look under the light grey piece of furniture.

When you set your hands against the edge of the couch one last time and bent as you lifted a cushion, he traced the arch of your back, the swell of your bottom, the length of your legs. After what felt like hours, he sighed loudly and covered his lap with a throw pillow. It was all too much.

“Sugar, did you ever think it might not be here?” his voice sounded rougher and heavier even to him. He cleared his throat. “D’you check your own quarters?”

“It’s here, Len,” you said in a breathy voice, moving back so you could kneel.

He really didn’t need you to be kneeling so close to that… region right now. He shifted again.

“I was wearing it last night when I feel asleep—”

“While I was talking.”

You smiled apologetically, your eyes growing wider as you looked up at him. You bit down on your bottom lip again and he thought he might combust. “Did I apologize for that yet?”

“You did,” he nodded, leaning forward to lean his forearms on the pillow in his lap. Your noses were close enough to brush together as he said in a soft voice, “It’s just a necklace.”

You leant away, scoffing. “Don’t show me those stupidly beautiful hazel eyes to try and convince me that finding my necklace isn’t important!”

“They’re not that stupidly beautiful,” he said with a wave of his hand, his smile a little smug. “Darlin’, we ain’t gonna make the last shuttle if you keep this up.”

“I lost a necklace to this thinly cushioned bed of rock, Len! I need to find it! It cost me—” you paused. “Well, it didn’t cost me a lot but it’s mine and I want it back!”

“I’ll buy you a new one, just stop bendin’ over the fuckin’ furniture and get to movin’ off this floatin’ disease incubator.”

six

You were laughing at something you’d just said, your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut. Your hand sat atop your stomach and your giggles shook the walls of the room and the walls in Leonard’s chest.

He felt himself begin to laugh as well. It wasn’t because what you said was so funny, it was just the sight of you so full of joy that made the laughter contagious.

When your giggles were far less frequent and far lower in volume, you lifted your head and wiped under your eyes. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t even funny. I don’t know why I amuse myself so much.”

“Somethin’ in the air bein’ circulated might be making you delirious.”

You smiled wider. “Very reasonable suggestion. I should confront Scotty.”

“Yell at him when you do,” he said with a nod. “The man’s terrified of you.”

“Is he really? Good, he should be.”

“He’s just never heard you singin’,” he noted, smiling when you sent him one of the scowls he usually offered you. “He hears you singin’, he’ll never be afraid of you again. Tone deaf as shit.”

“Excuse me? I’m the next Whitney Houston.”

“Next who?”

“It’s classical music, Len. Widen your horizons.”

There was another few minutes of back and forth until the two of you grew silent. It was a comfortable silence during which all he could think about was living in a comfortable silence with you for as long as he had left. However in order for that to be anywhere near possible, he’d have to tell you how he felt. He’d have to get past all the uncertainty forcing him to live in fear from the moment he met you years ago until now, he’d have to break down every wall he’d been building up from the moment he’d filed for divorce until now.

But he felt ready to do it all.

“I might,” he began, sighing and shaking his head to himself. “It’s possible that—” he sighed once more. “I… have feelings for someone on board. Significant feelings. Feelings I thought I wasn’t goin’ to be capable of since my divorce. And they’re— I need to talk about ‘em.”

seven

You nodded— twice. You smiled at him a little.

But you didn’t know what to say. Part of you was afraid to encourage him— he could say something that would break your heart to the point that each beating in your chest would force you to double over. And part of you would have jumped at encouraging him— that part of you thought he could say something that made you feel so full, so whole that any subsequent happiness would seem insignificant.

With some prompting from Jim, you’d begun to realize your feelings for Leonard were never really going to go away. No matter how many people you dated, no matter how many people you convinced yourself to like, those feelings were here to stay.

Maybe it was his kindness, maybe it was his dryness, maybe it was the drawl of his voice— whatever it was, you couldn’t stand the idea of ever kissing someone that wasn’t him, ever saying you were in love with someone that wasn’t him. It all seemed impossible.

When he didn’t speak and only stared at you expectantly, you smiled again. “Who is it? Is it Jim? I saw the hearts in his eyes while you guys ate lunch together.”

“S’not Jim, sweetheart.”

“Is it Uhura?” you asked, nodding upwards. “She’s hot. I mean, you guys barely talk and she is with Spock—”

“Darlin’ —”

“Is it Spock?” your eyes widened. “He’s hot, too. It’s just the whole Uhura thing and the volatility in your relationship—”

With a lean in your direction, he captured your lips with his. One of his hands sat against the side of your face and his other clasped around your hip to prompt your movement.

When the cloudiness in your mind and feeling of finally in your veins subsided a little, you listened and moved to straddle his lap. You sighed into his mouth when his arm wrapped around you tightly, the roughness of his hand against your face combined with the softness of his lips creating a warmth you’d never experienced before.

He broke away first, smiling as you followed his lips and sat back with a pout. “Sorry. I needed you to shut your mouth for a quick second so I—”

“Could’ve just told me to shut up.”

“I practically just did that and you’re still talkin’,” he laughed, shaking his head. He then sighed and searched the depth of your eyes with the eyes that only held a thin ring of hazel around dilated pupils. “In case it’s not obvious enough now, I was talkin’ about you, darlin’. I’m so in love with you.”

#i really really do wish i liked this more #i feel like there isn't enough len which doesn't even make sense but i'm needlessly hard on myself that's just who i am i guess #leonard mccoy #bones #leonard bones mccoy #WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY NAMES #bones mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader #bones imagine #leonard mccoy imagine #mccoy imagine #mccoy x reader #star trek imagine #star trek

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