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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

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Yandere Baki Head Canons:

Struck By Cupid

Yandere Various Baki Men x Fem Fighter Reader

TW: Reverse Harem/ aged up AU, uncomfortable themes, yandere behavior, drugging, creepy love letters, stalking, Kiyosumi Katou, and non consensual touching (hugs and kisses)

You’re a female mma fighter who was personally invited by Tokugawa to fight in the tournament. A shame most of the competition has taken a little too much interest in you…

Jack Hanma

You became his acquaintance in the ring just like the others. At first he didn’t think much of you until you gave him some advice for strength and technique after you defeated him. He had never felt such warmth in his life. To not only be seen and acknowledged, but to receive praise and advice rather than insults for his loss. For the first time in a long time, he blushed.

Jack doesn’t like the way his heart pounded in his chest when he sees you or how his palms sweat. It’s so strange… he’s never felt like this before.

You’re very polite and you have a welcoming aura to you. People are automatically drawn to you since you look trustworthy and friendly. Even if you aren’t, people adore you. It honestly annoyed you, but you did your best to try to be nice to everyone (a huge mistake).

Jack insults you all the time. This man has no idea how to flirt so he’s extremely rude to you. He truly means well but he’s not a man of many words. His actions will show you his true feelings but you’re quite clueless on those matters since you’d rather focus on martial arts than a relationship of any kind

“Your hair is down today… it makes you look strange. (Your hair is different today, I like it).” Or “You look pale and malnourished. How are you so incapable of taking care of yourself? (Have you eaten today? Why are you not taking care of yourself properly?)”

“Your outfit is unflattering and inappropriate for this weather. (You look cold).”

Jack will throw his jacket or shirt over you if you shiver, but the garments usually reek of his sweat and musk (and the stench of urine). He acts unphased by your refusal to wear his clothes but it actually deeply upsets him. He’s trying, okay?

Jack is painfully awkward. It’s so sad for Baki to watch his brother try to woe you and you turn him down (since you don’t speak ‘Jack’ nor look past his nagging).

Baki is the one to tell him that he smells and Jack is mortified. No wonder you constantly turned down his clothes… Hygiene after training was never on his mind but he made sure to bathe more often and to no longer reek of sweat and incontinence. He now smelled of pine and musk, a scent you didn’t seem to mind as much.

Jack is even more insistent on you wearing his clothes since the colder season still isn’t over and you still turn him down from time to time. He’s just a bit too overbearing for your taste and extremely difficult to talk to (he’s terrifying)

Jack often inserts his awkward presence between you and the other fighters. In his eyes, he’s keeping you safe from those weirdos. In yours, he’s rudely interrupting conversations you’re trying to have. But in all actuality, he is protecting you. Jack has kept you safe and you’re completely unaware of just how dangerous the others are…

Jack just wished he was able to explain his muddled feelings for you. He’s never had a crush nor has he ever touched someone intimately, he was new to all of this. He just wanted you to understand him.

Jack will eventually tire of your rejection and may become more aggressive with his advances. Especially if you’re more receptive to other’s advances. What does Katsumi have that he doesn’t? Jack is much bigger than him in every way. Just look at him… please look at him. Pick him. Love him.

You’ll eventually be cornered by him once you’re finally alone.

His large arms wrapped around your smaller frame as he pulled you close to his body. You could feel Jack’s heart hammer in his chest, his nose buried into the top of your head. You shivered when Jack deeply inhaled your scent.

“Oh um… can I help you-“ Jack suddenly flipped you around. His cinnamon eyes were wild and his palms were covered in a light sheen of sweat. Was he okay? “Jack.. are you alright?”

“I don’t mind your presence.” Jack furrowed his brows and sighed in agitation. “I… I can’t explain how I feel with words.”

“What do you mean-“ you words were caught in your throat when he leaned down to your level, his hot breath mingled with yours. He then pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his entire body trembled like a leaf from the touch.

“I like you, no.” Jack shook his head. “I love you.”

You can’t even utter a word before he placed his hands on either side of your shoulders. His cinnamon eyes brewed a powerful storm of emotion behind him. He meant it, this rude man was madly in love with you. “So pick me. You don’t need anyone other than me in this world. Only I can keep you safe.”

Katsumi Orochi

Katsumi was frustrated with his loss at first. He couldn’t believe he lost to you, an individual who appeared out of literally nowhere. He’s trained most of his life! His entire life was karate and you easily defeated him like he was some sort of beginner!

Yet you didn’t boast to him when he laid in the bloody sand. No, you helped him up and gave him a smile so sweet, his teeth could rot. And you told him that if you hadn’t reacted fast enough, he probably would have defeated you.

“I think you’re really talented. I think you’ll go far in life with your work ethic!” How could someone openly admit that? Most opponents would gloat in his face and yet you didn’t. Your optimism and kindness made his heart flutter. Congratulations! You’re Katsumi’s first crush.

Katsumi invited you to train at Shinshinkai where you often interacted with him, the karatekas, and Retsu. He often found himself admiring you whenever he thought you weren’t looking, which caused him to be teased by the karatekas. Everyone in that dojo knew he had a crush on you… except you.

Katsumi is incredibly sweet. He often compliments you or asks you for a demonstration. Katsumi is eager to learn anything you’d love to teach him.

It’s when you express an interest in learning karate that truly sets his heart ablaze. He gives you a uniform and offered you private lessons. He truly didn’t want any teasing from his students. Plus the two of you could spar to your heart’s content.

But seeing you in a karate uniform really made his mind wander to filthy places. The way the uniform stuck to your sweaty body and how he could almost see into your shirt when you pinned him to the mat. It was entirely too much.

Katsumi will start to ask you out to eat after every training/ sparring session. And how could you ever turn down free food? Your clueless self had no idea that these were dates since the two do you were in casual wear as you explored the town for little treats.

The two of you got along swimmingly. Katsumi found you incredibly easy to talk to… your relationship with him reminded him of Doppo and Natsue’s which made him believe the two of you were romantically interested in one another.

Katsumi never got around to dating due to his devotion to karate. He was inexperienced in every aspect of love other than what he’s seen between his adoptive parents. And he knew that he loved you. Katsumi has never felt this way before in his entire life.

His cheeks flush cherry red when you wipe some crumbs off his face. His words shaky when you give him your utmost attention. Your eyes never left his as he spoke, which only made him all the more nervous. Katsumi believed you were made for him. You’re his soul mate. You were interested in martial arts too and you always made him feel important. Katsumi had to tell you how he felt… he didn’t want to lose his chance.

And it was even worse when he noticed that he wasn’t the only one who held a torch for you. It made him even more competitive to have your hand. Katsumi swore he would be the one to be your lover and eventually, your husband!

So Katsumi began to hog as much of your time as he could at the dojo. He’d ask for more demonstrations and even for your help with his kindergartner class. Katsumi constantly had to adjust his pants whenever you’d affectionately lend a hand to one of the kids. You looked so natural with them… would you want to have kids? Katsumi would love to be the one to father them if you did.

Katsumi’s mind often wandered to fatherhood and marriage with you. You’d look so perfect all plump and round… he had no doubt that your children would be prodigies in martial arts as well. Katsumi looked forward to those blissful, idyllic days. It was guaranteed if you married him!

A shame Katsumi failed to realize that you only saw him as a friend and nothing more…

You jumped when Katsumi’s hand held yours at the dinner table. Your brow quirked at his red cheeks as you slowly chewed your ramen.

“I have something to tell you…” Katsumi blushed while his hands gave yourselves a firm squeeze.

You give him a smile and swallow, your head tilted off to the side. “Of course, Katsumi. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Katsumi felt his heart flutter and his palms start to sweat a bit. He sucked in a deep breath and gave you the sweetest at you..

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I met you.” Katsumi told you, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. His cheeks remained hot when you didn’t move away from the grip he had on your hand so he took the opportunity to run his thumb over the back of your hand. “Please… I need to know if you feel the same. My love for you keeps me up at night, I can’t help but imagine a life with you.”

You’re at a loss for words as you hesitatingly try to pull away from his grip. Sadly, Katsumi only held onto your hand tighter. “Oh Katsumi, I-“

Your eyes nearly blow out of your head when he pressed a hesitant kiss to your lips. A few tears fell down his face as one of his hands tenderly held your cheek.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything…” Katsumi gave you a loving smile. “I know you love me too.”

Hanayama Kaoru

Hanayama suffered a surprising defeat by your hands, one that would have been shameful… if you had let him lay on his back. Imagine his surprise to hear that you didn’t let him fall over when you knocked him out with a roundhouse kick to the head? That you helped him stand up… he was flattered.

And so, Hanayama bought you a bouquet of roses as thanks. The crimson petals looked flattering against you as you curiously tilted your head off to the side at him.

“You didn’t have to get me anything... I just had a lot of respect for you as an opponent! I can’t believe you were able to tank so many blows from me… you’re really strong.” You gave him a bright smile which made Hanayama shrink back a bit in shock. Did you just compliment him?

Hanayama wasn’t quite used to genuine praise. Sure he’d be praised by his peers, but not from his opponents. Especially not an attractive opponent of the opposite gender.

Hanayama has had his fair share of flings. Most women approached him for superficial reasons, but not you. You were a shining star that shared its warmth with the moon. Someone unattainable yet within reach.

Hanayama simply gave you a bow before he left. He was a man of few words, fewer than the other… but his actions were the loudest.

Hanayama doesn’t actively seek you out, quite the opposite. At first at least. The two of you occasionally bump into one another, which made the gears turn in his head. Perhaps this was a fated meeting. Yes… this was the work of the red string of fate.

And so began his fascination towards you. A small crush that slowly grew into a full blown obsession. One that became overwhelming to him.

It started off with small gifts (at least to him). Jewelry and bouquets of roses. Hanayama adored the flower of love that his mother once loved. He bought dainty jewelry with elegant designs so he had the excuse to see you be adorned with accessories he personally picked out (Kizaki actually picked them out)

Hanayama wasn’t much of a romantic but he was willing to try if it meant he’d earn your affection. He’d wear better cologne and make sure his suit was always clean. He genuinely wanted to impress you, by any means necessary. No cost was too great if it meant you’d belong to him.

He began to write you love letters with surprisingly neat, tiny characters. Poor Kizaki had to help him with the right words at first, the right hand man now officially a wingman. Kizaki would do anything to ensure Hanayama’s happiness.

At first you were flattered, it was so cute to watch Hanayama hang you the letters with rosy cheeks. Who knew he had such a cute side to him? He’d even gift you small clothing articles if he noticed your clothes were too baggy/tight.

But then they began to get darker. The clothing became more revealing and were your exact measurements. You never told him your size! His fantasies began to take hold of him since he wasn’t getting through to you at the same pace he was falling for you. And it was especially worse since the other fighters all hovered around you like flies to honey. It upset him. You were his. You belonged to Hanayama.

Sweet words of innocent love soon turned to the ramblings of an obsessive madman. A fact that even someone as clueless as you understood. You were terrified. Hanayama was now using any means necessary to get you into his arms. It didn’t matter what extremes he had to go to, he has loudly staked his claim on you. What the boss wanted, the boss got.

You nervously smiled at Hanayama who placed a bouquet of ruby roses in your hands. The bouquet nearly swallow you whole with its sheer size. Yet another loud declaration of his love for you. A love you were terrified of.

“Thank you, Hanayama… you don’t have to give me so much.” You shrunk back at the stern look he gave you, you hoped you didn’t come off as ungrateful.

“I can buy you grander gifts if you don’t like them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do-“

You shook your head and tugged on his sleeve, an action that made his face explode in scarlet. “No, I just feel bad since you’re always going above and beyond. I do appreciate your gifts, I think you’re incredibly sweet.”

Hanayama bowed his head as he adjusted his steam filled glasses. You willingly touched him… did this mean you felt the same way he did? That you had a love for him that burned as much as his? God, he wanted to kiss you so badly… but he had another gift for you.

Hanayama reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a neatly wrapped black box. His obsidian eyes expectantly flitted to your face to see your reaction to his gift. It wasn’t difficult to size you in your sleep since you were such a heavy sleeper, but he needed to ensure this would fit!

You felt your blood run cold when Hanayama got down on one knee. What was he doing? The two of you weren’t even dating!!!

“Be my wife… or I can’t guarantee the safety of your friends and family.” Hanayama gave you the smallest of smiles as he revealed the dazzling diamond ring in the box. His predatory gaze never left your form for a second. “What do you say? Yes or yes?”

Baki Hanma

Baki and you were tied in the finals, a fact that blew his mind. The two of you were even in strength? How was that possible? This was thrilling to him!

Baki began to harp you in public to challenge you to a fight. It didn’t matter where you were. In a restaurant, at a cafe, or at a hot spring, it was on sight!

It was when you mopped him on the floor at a hot spring that he realized how inappropriate he was being. Your eyes filled with a fire he’s never seen before while you put your hands on your towel-clad hips. The towel tied firmly in place over your chest.

“Look, I know you’re still not over the tournament results but I have a lift outside of fighting.” You ran a hand through your hair in annoyance. “We could schedule a fight, but I can’t keep brawling with you on the street. I’m not trying to get arrested for fighting some… kid.”

Baki probably looked like a fish out of water. “I’m not a kid! I’m twenty!” His cheeks flushed pink when you giggled at him. What was so funny?

“Well, you’re a kid to me.” You laugh as you ruffle the short man’s hair. “You have a lot of heart, I think you’ll go far, kid!”

“I am not a kid!” Baki blushed when you just waved him off and walked away. A kid… you thought he was a kid! Baki would show you… he’d show you he was a man… but why did his cheeks feel so hot from your teasing?

You often bump into the red head whose cheeks would always flush red when your eyes would meet. It was really adorable. You always made sure to wave and smile at the younger man. There was something about him that seemed incredibly lonely to you…

And so began a friendship with Baki. You’d go out to eat with him and keep him company. Baki wasn’t used to someone asking him about his day or making sure he ate. He wasn’t used to such genuine care that he melted into a puddle from it.

You were welcoming and bright like a ray of sunshine. You’d listen to his woes and offer him your guidance. It was a stark contrast to the last relationship he had once it had fizzled out. Except there was no nagging on your end, you understood his rigorous training.

The first time you hugged him, Baki nearly cried. You were so soft and warm… like a mother.

It took another month for Baki to realize he had a crush on you. He began to seek out your touch more and would try to spend the night in your home. Baki adored being little spoon and he adored how you took care of him. Baki wanted so much more than this friendship

And as time went on, he noticed how the other fighters hovered around you. Each one of them made attempts to get you to be theirs but Baki began to interfere. He didn’t want to be alone again! He didn’t want to live without your loving warmth.

Baki would insert himself between you and the others. He’d interrupt your food outings with Katsumi, he’d stand between you and Jack (or Hanayama), he’d interrupt Retsu before Retsu could talk to you, etc. Look at Baki and only Baki!

So Baki began to cling to you even more. You couldn’t go a day without the redhead by your side. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he clutched onto you like a tick.

The more you tried to avoid him, the worse Baki became. You didn’t want to abandon him, right? He’ll be good to you, he’s just as eligible of a bachelor as the others. He’s also a man despite being younger than you!

“I love you.” Baki whispered into your shoulder before he pressed a soft kiss to the soft skin. His crimson eyes filled with adoration for you. “And I know you’re being hounded by the others, but don’t you think I’d be a better choice?”

You tried to shimmy out of his arms but his muscular arms only tightened around you. It was useless to try to escape the hold of this crimson anaconda. You sighed and placed your hand on his forearm. “Baki, I only see you as a little brother-“

You’re suddenly spun around to face the younger man, his eyes a bit teary. His hands tightly held your arms to your side as he shook. “Is this because I’m younger? I… I can prove to you that I’m a man-“

You reached forward and held his cheeks in your hand. “Baki, it’s just the way I see you. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Sometimes you just get to be a bit too much.”

Baki melted into your touch, his hands hold yours while your thumbs stroked his beautiful face. Couldn’t you see that this was meant to be? That this relationship could be so much more than platonic?

Baki leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. His eyes fluttered shut as he softly peppered your lips until he was out of breath. “I love you… I love you so much. I’m willing to fight for you.”

Kaioh Retsu

Retsu had seen you defeat Katsumi with ease. He didn’t get to face off with you, but he was impressed. Especially when he saw that you knew a bit of Kenpo. He didn’t think an mma fighter would incorporate the ancient Chinese martial art, but you had proven him wrong.

The first official meeting with him was at the Shinshinkai dojo. Polite exchanges of one another’s names turned into a deep conversation of martial arts.

“You’re a practitioner of Chinese Kenpo, right?” Your eyes are filled with stars when Retsu nods. “Wow! That’s amazing. I envy your dedication to the craft, you must have been in a temple for years…”

He couldn’t help the butterflies that stirred in his stomach when you express an interest in Kenpo (and an interest in him). You wanted to learn Kenpo over karate? How could he say no?

Retsu taught you the basics of Kenpo and he was amazed with your natural talent for it. It made the butterflies explode in his chest whenever you gave him a bright grin once you caught onto the demonstration he showed you.

Retsu has no experience with women due to being n a temple for so long… so it’s the first time he’s ever been particularly excited. Retsu is so terrified of these new feelings that began to develop for you. But he’s too afraid to ask anyone about what he’s feeling so he does his best to mask the blush on his cheeks.

Retsu found himself making you meals and talking with you about anything and everything. He genuinely enjoyed your company… more than anyone he’s met before.

And so Retsu was in a constant battle with the overwhelming feelings that started to bubble over to the surface. And you trusted him.

“I just feel so safe with you, Retsu. Like nothing bad would ever happen to me if I’m by your side.” You give him a big grin while the two of you sat side by side in a botanical garden. “Thanks for always being so kind to me.”

You’d vent to him about the strange happenings of your peers. Retsu hadn’t realized how troubled you were so he made sure to brew you tea to calm your nerves.

It’s when your hand accidentally brushed against his that made his mind wander to places it never had before. There was no denying how attracted he was to you. How he wanted to pull you into his arms and never let go. How he wanted to keep you safe and far away from all the other fighters who made you uncomfortable. Would you like China? He’d be willing to take you to his home county- no! What on earth was he thinking…

But he refused to succumb to it! He didn’t want to lose you… he didn’t want you to be scared of him or uncomfortable in his presence because he became some animal like the others. Retsu was better than them… because you trusted him.

You lean your head on Retsu’s shoulder, your eyes felt heavier than usual after you drank the tea he brewed you.

“I’m sorry, Retsu.” Your words are a bit slurred but Retsu pet the top of your head in a comforting manner. “I don’t know why I’m so tired…”

“It’s perfectly okay. I can carry you to my room, you can have my futon.” You’re too sleepy to protest when Retsu scooped you up into his arms like some sort of fairytale princess. “I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

You give him a dopey smile and nuzzle your head into his shoulder. Your breathing now steady once you finally succumbed to sleep.

Retsu felt a bit guilty that he had slipped sleeping pills in your tea, but you had such heavy bags under your eyes… which was unacceptable! He could not believe the others never took your health into consideration. What if you fell ill? This was all for your own good.

Retsu brought you into his room and laid you in his futon. His thumb brushed a few hairs from your face in thought. One kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?

Retsu bent down and pressed a shy peck to your lips. His breathing ragged and his cheeks a bright red. That was enough to satiate him for now… he just wanted to keep you safe and healthy.

“I love you more than they ever could.” Retsu whispered while he tucked you in. “I’ll always take care of you. Sweet dreams, Bǎobèi.”

Kiyosumi Katou

Katou was not pleased about your arrival to the dojo. He was humiliated when he lost to you in the first round at the tournament and he hated how everyone crowded around you like you were some gift sent from the heavens. You were just some woman, nothing more.

Katou usually ignored you when you’d train with Retsu or spar with Katsumi. He’d ignore the way the karatekas teased Katsumi or how Retsu’s eyes lingered on you for too many seconds. Katou didn’t understand what was so special about you.

So Katou did what he did best, he insulted you. At first it started behind your back but eventually he grew enough confidence to say it to your face… a mistake on his part.

“How about we settle this with a spar?”

You ended up mopping the floor with him. His arms flailed as he tried to free himself from your rear naked choke. Your feet were way too close to his most sensitive areas than he would have liked and there was no doubt in his mind that if your feet came any closer, he’d cream his pants.

Katou eventually admitted defeat and gasped for air like a fish out of water. Drool and snot fell down his face. He couldn’t believe how pathetic he was- Katou was shocked when you used your sleeve to wipe his mouth and nose off. He didn’t understand why you took the time to clean him up and check on him when he had been horrible to you

“You should really focus more on your karate. You have so much potential.” You offer him your hand which he hesitantly took. Katou marveled at how soft your palms were compared to his… how small your hand was. “Perhaps we’ve gotten on the wrong foot, but I’m willing to start over.”

Since that day, Katou now understood why the other men flocked to you like sheep. You were strong and yet you were kind. You were confident yet humble. You were everything he wasn’t and rather than be envious of you, Katou now desired you. He yearned for you more than anything.

Thanks to you, he took his karate more seriously. Katou sought out your praise. His eyes filled with greed when he gazed upon your sweaty form. He felt his pants tighten and his palms sweat whenever you led give him a smile and a few words of praise.

“You’re doing amazing. You’ve improved so much, Katou.”

Katou’s heart flutters whenever you say his name and he just can’t get enough of you. He has to have you. Even if not fully, he’s happy with crumbs… which is why he began to steal your soiled undergarments from your gym bag. He needed this… he needed a piece of you. Katou needed more than what the dojo provided him.

Katou began to stalk you. In his mind, he knew he didn’t stand a chance to work his way into your heart so he followed you in the shadows. He was voyeur to how all the other fighters fought for your attention. Katou wished you would look his way more… he may not have been as strong as the others, but he was willing to be completely devoted to you

He began to write you notes (that he kept to himself), he took pictures of you when you weren’t paying attention, pictures of you sleeping, and he’d even dig through your trash. Which was only when he’s been without your attention for a few days. Katou knew he was sick. That the way he felt wasn’t normal, but he had no intention to stop. A part of him even wanted you to catch him in the act so you could call him every name in the book.

Yet the more rational part of him was sickened with himself so he’d drown himself in booze once a week. A vulnerable time where you finally ran into him outside the dojo…

“Katou? Are you alright?” You furrowed your brow at Katou who sat on the side of the road. His cheeks were a rosy red and he reeked of cheap cigarettes and beer. There was not a doubt in you that he was drunk out of his mind.

“D-don’t look at me…” Katou slurred his words as he pulled his jacket up to try cover his face. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

You frown and bent down to hold his cheeks, which made more color bloom to his face. Katou’s breath hitched when you checked his temperature. “Katou, I’m a bit worried about you. Have you been eating properly? Please tell me you didn’t drink on an empty stomach…”

Katou sighed dreamily as he leaned into your hands. He felt as if he was on cloud nine since you finally paid him some attention. “You always worry for me and care for me even though I don’t deserve it.”

“Everyone deserves care-“ You’re shocked when Katou began to pepper your palms with kisses. You could smell the alcohol on his breath and feel his heartbeat through each featherlight peck. “Katou? What are you?”

“I love you.” Katou’s eyes studied your face for a reaction, his heart hopeful that you wouldn’t reject him like you had the others. “I know I’m not the strongest or the best looking, but I love you. I’m willing to do whatever it takes for your eyes to be on me.”

“Katou-“ You gasped when he glided his tongue across your palm. You tried to recoil your hands but Katou firmly held them in place.

“Please, just indulge me once.” Katou begged as his body shook like a leaf. “Please... You don’t even have to do anything other than let me adore you.”

Part 2 coming soon…

I’d love to write more and tips would be appreciated. Please buy me a coffee?

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thetriumphantpanda · 8 months

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i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’.

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do.

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things.

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking.

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head.

“No, why?”

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.”

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you.

“They’re delicious.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you.

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist.

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.”

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?”

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.”

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good.

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise.

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body.

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease.

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table.

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly.

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little.

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?”

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.”

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.”

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up.

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you.

“Running away?”

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest.

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.”

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks.

“If I have to.” You answer back.

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.”

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office.

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations. Your bag sits on the floor next to it.

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk.

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.”

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.”

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself.

“You looking that sinful.”

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?”

He smirks, “As real as you and I.”

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it.

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed.

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to?

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?”

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath.

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though.

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.”

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up.

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing.

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.”

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?”

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.”

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug.

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.”

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life.

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.”

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks.

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it.

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain.

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough.

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly.

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him.

“Your mouth.”

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties.

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.”

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.”

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet.

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?”

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.”

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head.

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?”

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk.

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good.

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun.

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again.

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.”

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.”

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now.

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.”

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright.

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.”

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse.

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position.

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear.

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man.

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?”

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on.

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel.

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.”

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #The mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #plus size reader

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goldenroutledge · 1 year

Text

next to you

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x reader

word count ⤜ 1.1k

summary ⤜ mornings with your husband, rafe.

warning(s) ⤜ this work contains a MAJOR season three spoiler! but other than that just fluff? might be on the hurt/comfort side just a smidge

a/n ⤜ he looks so BOYFRIEND in this outfit! i’ve been having so much writer’s block i haven’t written in a year at least, but my babygirl mila @msgorillagripcoochie inspired me with this idea <3 this isn’t canon rafe btw literally none of my work is canon compliant

rafe cameron masterlist

Steam fogged the mirrors of the en-suite bathroom, slowly dissipating with the cooler air being let in from the bedroom. White towel hanging around his hips, Rafe sat at the edge of the bed you shared, staring down the vast space of the walk-in closet.

Fidgeting with the ring on his finger, nerves coursed through his body, and it was in times like these that he remembered the days of drinking scotch before 11am. But that was a thing of the past, he reminded himself just as quickly as the thought popped into his mind.

Today he was meeting with an old teacher from his alma mater, who grew to be one of his favorites. Probably his only favorite.

Rafe was never a scholar or anything, something Ward didn’t allow him to forget. He just learned differently, from someone like Sarah who could barely show up to school three times a week and still pass every exam.

It wasn’t until Rafe found himself with a 67% in his social studies class and less than a month left in the semester to turn his grade around that he was forced to attend office hours.

The first day was embarrassing. He felt like an idiot in the first place, seeing as his horrible grades pretty much spoke for themselves. But even more so now that he had to stay longer at school because he was an idiot.

Rafe stayed silent for the most part. Letting the professor do most of the talking, letting him know which assignments and topics he needed to perform well on to end the class with a passing grade.

It wasn’t until that Friday, his professor knocked some sense into him.

« “You know you’ll never learn anything if you don’t ask questions, right?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of sitting prisoner in the chair of his teacher’s office. “What do you want me to ask?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t have questions.” He lied unconvincingly.

“Every time I teach you, Rafe, I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re a smart kid. But I can’t help you excel if you don’t engage. I get it, alright. I felt stupid asking a bunch of questions in front of everyone in school too but I need you to be receptive. Help me help you, Mr. Cameron.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay. We can start with assigning you a peer tutor.”

Rafe wanted to laugh. Or cry, he wasn’t sure. The whole thing was just ridiculous to him at this point.

“She’ll be someone you can talk with about the material, ask questions to, someone you can trust to help you get back on track. Are you familiar with Y/n Y/ln?” »

Little did he know, Mr. Murphy would be getting the boot by the school board. Something about budget cuts, as if the kook parents of the island didn’t give enough donations to the school to keep the water fountains at a perfectly cold temperature.

Not because their books were falling apart or because their desks were chipping. Because people are selfish, and the new headmistress of the academy felt like the money could be better spent remodeling her office. It was laughable, really.

Today, that professor was back on the island, and reached out to Rafe to meet with him following the news of Ward’s death. Not that he mentioned that specifically in his email, though it was mostly implied that he’d wanted to check up on Rafe after everything.

And with all the questions he’d probably be asked today during this lunch with his old mentor, all he could ponder over was what he was going to wear. Perhaps it was a method of procrastination, to get his mind off of everything else.

Rafe sighed. “Y/n?”

At hearing his voice echoing through the house, you slid your bookmark in between the pages and followed his voice upstairs into your shared bedroom.

“You called?”

“I need your help.”

Your eyebrows raised involuntarily at the sight before you; no matter how many times you’d seen Rafe almost naked (and actually naked), he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Help getting dressed?”

He nods, confirming that you’re always good at reading his mind. “Dress me, please?”

You chuckled, pulling some articles of clothing from the hangers and drawers. It was just lunch, so it wasn’t like he needed anything too business-y. His striped blue and orange shirt had always been one of your favorites, though he seemed to look good in almost anything.

You threw a pair of boxers over to him, keeping your back turned as you still rummaged through the closet. No matter how irresistible he was, there wasn’t any time for funny business this morning.

“There’s no need to be nervous, y’know. Mr. Murphy has always liked you.”

How do you always know what he’s thinking, damnit. “Yeah. I guess.”

He pulled the striped shirt over his head while you found pants for him to wear.

“Just don’t want him to think I’m still the same loser I was back then.”

“You’ve never been a loser, Rafe.”

“Maybe not in your eyes.” His lips stretched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He put on the pants you picked for him, sitting back down to look up at you.

“Definitely not in my eyes.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so his head rested on your stomach. The tips of your fingernails lightly scratched the back of his neck as you embraced.

“Do you remember the science fair? Freshman year?”

Rafe hummed in response. “Ward thought it was stupid. I asked him to come and he didn’t. Said he would be too embarrassed when I lost.”

“And then what happened? You won the whole damn thing.”

“I won the whole damn thing.” He smiled against your skin, repeating your words softly.

“You’ve never been a loser.”

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his thighs, and gave him a sweet kiss.

“You’ve already accomplished so much.” You affirmed, reminding him of the businesses he had taken over since Ward died. Still, Rafe was unsure if he could rise to the occasion.

You took the ends of his jeans and cuffed them, knowing he’s terrible at doing it himself. They always come out uneven. And conveniently enough, he likes spending these quiet moments together. Neither of you would trade them for anything.

“I married you.” He cooed, taking your left hand in his and letting his thumb glide across the ring on your finger. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“That it was.” You cheesed, letting him pull you up to straddle him. “Next time you think you’re not accomplished, Rafey…” You peppered soft kisses to his jawline. “Remember that you’ve got me.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @babeyglo @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + rafe cameron taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @chrisevansfuturewife @drewstarkeysbitchh @littlementalpolaroids @destourtereaux @kookkyra @iammirrorball

it’s been a while since i’ve posted writing so if anyone wants to be removed from/added to the taglist please don’t hesitate to let me know! 💌

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #obx fic #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #outer banks fic

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itzjaza · 9 months

Note

TAZ SKYLAR HUSBAND HC RAHHH🔥🔥🔥

OMG THANKS FOR THE IDEA POOKIE!!!!!!!

Taz Skylar as Your Husband:

The proposal: Taz had been planning this for weeks. He wanted it to be perfect. He made Emily take y/n out for a girl's day so that he could prepare everything. He cooked her favorite meal, prepped their outfits for tonight, and bought her favorite champagne. When y/n got back it was safe to say she was surprised. After dinner, Taz took Y/n out on a walk at the beach to watch the sunset. As they walked along the sand, Taz took Y/n's hand in his and stopped in his tracks. "I can't imagine a life without you," Taz said, looking deeply into her eyes. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" y/n's eyes filled with tears of happiness. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. "Yes, Taz!" she said, smiling widely. Taz reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful engagement ring. He placed it on her finger, and they embraced each other in a tight hug. As the sun set over the ocean, Taz and then pulled her into a kiss that was ruined by their friends knocking them down onto the sand for a hug.

The wedding day: It was a beautiful day in the city, and y/n was getting ready for her big day. She was nervous and excited, but she knew that Taz was the one for her. Taz was waiting outside the church, looking handsome in his suit. As y/n approached him, he took her hand and greeted her with a smile. The ceremony was simple and elegant, and it was clear that Taz and Y/n were both over the moon with happiness. At the end of the ceremony, they exchanged their vows and said "I do". The reception was full of love and laughter, and all of their friends and family were there to share in their joy. As the night came to an end, Taz and y/n said goodbye to their guests and headed off to their honeymoon. It was the most perfect day of their lives, and they couldn't wait to start their life together as husband and wife.

The honeymoon: y/n and Taz went on an amazing honeymoon to a remote island in the Caribbean. They stayed in a beautiful resort surrounded by palm trees and white sand beaches. Taz was the perfect husband, and he treated her like a princess every day. Every morning, they woke up early to watch the sun rise over the ocean. Then they headed out on boats to explore the surrounding coral reefs. Taz showed y/n how to snorkel and they saw all kinds of colorful fish. In the afternoons, they lay out on the beach and relaxed in the sun. They talked about everything and nothing, and y/n felt more in love with Taz with each passing day. At night, they went out for delicious dinners. Taz was a great cook and he would make y/n her favorite dishes. Then they danced beneath the stars to the music of a live band. It was safe to say that y/n's and Taz's honeymoon was the most magical, romantic time of their lives. They returned home with incredible memories and a new level of love and connection.

How he would be as a husband: Taz would be a wonderful husband. He would be selfless, caring, and dedicated to making his wife happy. He would always put her needs first, and would be there to support her through thick and thin. He would be a great provider, and he would always go out of his way to make sure she felt loved and cared for. Taz would be a great conversationalist, and he would always make her laugh with his charming wit. He would be a great listener, and he would always be there to lend an ear when she needed to vent. In short, Taz would be a husband any woman would be lucky to have.

#one piece #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #live action sanji #taz skylar #taz skylar x reader

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mirnilop · 9 months

Text

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

�� synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it��s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

#🐇 penned #🌈🖼️ wh #feat. some random ocs i made up for the sake of the fic #welcome home #welcome home x reader #wally darling x reader #x reader #reader-insert #yandere x reader #i love randomly throwing in ronald dorelaine #cause we have no idea who he is or what he's like #so he can be whatever i need him to be #yandere wally darling #yandere wally darling x reader #welcome home mob au #clownsuu

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shaadiwish · 10 months

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Steal the show with these gorgeous ruffled sarees. Ruffled saree ideas for wedding and more inspirations for wedding, visit only at ShaadiWish.com

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pleasingforharry · 2 years

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Moans and Elevator Music

SUMMARY: Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

WARNINGS: heavy sexual content ;)

slow burn at first. sorry i got carried away with the actual story ahah

I wasn’t nervous, I was fucking scared shitless. I've heard numerous stories from people who were turned down a job the moment they stepped into his office. He wasn’t playing around, and he wasn’t afraid to make you feel like an utter fool. It was considered a reckless move to follow in their footsteps and apply to work under him. But I wanted that job so bad that I was ready to buy a pair of clown shoes.

Harry Styles was the CEO of Pleasing, and the biggest asshole known to man. I haven’t done any research on him because the less I knew about his asshole-y-ness, the better. I didn’t even want to know what the man looked like. It was best if I went into my interview with a clear, open-minded head about my potential new boss.

My interview was at 12:45, and I was outside the building half an hour earlier to ease my overwhelming thoughts of being late. I sat in my car and practiced how I’d sit across from him, the professionalism in my tone, the polite stretch of my smile, etc. It was pathetic but I was scared shitless.

When 12:30 hit, I decided to head inside so I had approximately fifteen minutes to find his office and, hopefully, have a minute or two to spare. Maybe he’d find it impressive and wouldn’t fire me as soon as I walked through the doors like I’ve heard happen to many people.

I was wearing a business casual outfit in hopes of showing off my personality and how I didn’t overthink things, no matter the circumstances. It was simple, it was neat, it was professional, it was perfect.

As I walked through the glass doors of the Pleasing building in New York for the first time, I realized how much it replicated the brand. It was colorful but not overpowering. Stone backdrops aligned with bright—due to the glass panels all along the front of the building—white wallpaper took over the main lobby. It was the furniture and different fonts of Pleasing that brought out the colors.

“Whoa,” I gasped with a wide smile. It would be amazing to walk into that building every day.

“Whoa, indeed,” a voice repeated behind me. I looked over my shoulder to find a tall curly headed man, dressed in black blazer and pants with a pink dress shirt, walking closer to where I stood. “It’s nice in here, right? The best lobby I’ve ever seen. It’s just so welcoming.” I nodded in agreement, subtly staring the man up and down.

“I love it, a lot actually. These people are lucky to work here all the time,” I sighed, tilting my head up to the high ceilings. I spun around to attempt to make out the pattern that scattered from the ceilings to the pillars holding them afoot. The man took a step closer as my feet twirled me away from him.

His hands were behind his back as he leaned down to reach my shorter level. Even with heels, his legs stretched him to somewhere around six feet.

“You don’t work here? I was wondering why I haven’t seen you before. I definitely would’ve remembered you,” The man spoke to me. I finally looked back at him and smiled shyly. I couldn’t tell if that was a hidden compliment, or he just had no idea who the fuck I was.

“Hopefully I’ll be working here soon. That’ll be the dream,” was all the information I gave him. I wasn’t parading the fact I had an interview with the CEO in a few minutes because I could’ve been walking right back through the front entrance jobless and absolutely humiliated.

The man suddenly smirked at me as he stood straight up again. “Then hopefully I’ll see you again soon.” I nodded in agreement and pulled my gaze away from him in search for the reception desk.

Leaving the man lone, I walked farther into the building and easily found an older woman behind a desk, typing away on her computer. I approached her and waited for her to look up before speaking. I assumed she was doing something important because of her squinted eyes focusing on the screen in front of her. I had the time to wait anyway.

“Thank you for your patience, darling. How are you? What can I do for you?” She finally looked up at me and smiled.

“No worries, and I’m great. It’s actually my first time here and I’m coming in for an interview with Mr. Styles. I just needed to know where his office is?” I explained.

“Oh, let me just check you in real fast,” she went back to her computer and typed away. I used that free time to look around the lobby.

From the reception desk, I noticed another open room off to the side of the lobby. A soft squeal escaped my lips as I realized it was a Pleasing shop for whom I assumed was solely for the employees. They were the only ones in there, using their Pleasing branded tote bags to shop. The walls were a vibrant yellow with a white flower print. I knew I had to go shopping there and get my hands on some of that merchandise.

“Okay, Ms. L/N, I have you checked in, but you are actually a little early so you don’t have to go up right now.”

“Oh, I know. I came early just to make sure I wasn’t late.”

“Mr. Styles likes people with that kind of mindset,” She gave me a thumbs up. “You’re already on the right track.”

I sighed in relief with a nod.

“You can find Mr. Styles’ office on the top floor, and as you walk down the hall, you can’t miss his glass-stained double doors,” She explained. I thanked her multiple times as I backed away to the elevators.

The employees that filled the building made themselves obvious through their work attire. The men in colorful dress shirts under their patterned blazers. The women in floral dresses and skirts. Every person’s nails were painted, some with added designs. It was exactly what I wanted to look like.

I sucked in a nervous breath as I realized what was at stake. I had to get hired, I had to get this job. I wanted it so bad. To be surrounded by the brand that took over my life in the last year. Its skin care to makeup to clothing line had me in a literal chokehold.

When I found the elevator corridor, I wasn’t surprised by the ambiance. Bright, quirky, and fun. It had a wide smile taking over my lips. I went to press the upward arrow button in hopes that one of the six elevators opened within the next minute. I knew there were a lot of floors containing a lot of people that were too high in the matriarchy to use the... stairs.

Answering my wishes, a ding and a flash had lit to announce an elevator was on its way to lead me to either my dream or doom. I was beginning to shit bricks. I looked over my shoulder, noticing I was the only one in need for the elevator.

As the doors slid open, I walked inside and pushed the thirty eighth floor button quickly. Having those few moments alone were more than useful. The wall on the other side of the elevator door had a slim mirror with a sign in cute handwriting that said, ‘You look Pleasing.’ I covered my mouth with the back of my hand to laugh as I stood in front of the mirror and adjusted my outfit.

Right when the doors warned to close, I heard a voice call out, to which I assumed towards me, “Hold the doors!” I suddenly panicked and quickly slotted my hand between the closing doors for them to open back up again. The voice sighed as a familiar face appeared, twisting to his side to walk inside. It was the man from earlier that approached my side to take in the beauty of the building. I would’ve thought he’d be upstairs by then, heading to whatever department he worked at, already. “Thanks, love.”

“No worries,” I shrugged. It was then when I realized the accent. He was British? My thoughts matched my face with a tilt of my head and a slight drop of my jaw. He stared at me confusingly for a moment before looking at the buttons listing all the floors.

His expression only grew more confused as he said, “Top floor, too? What are you doing up there?” I was taken aback by his almost offended tone, like I wasn’t worthy to have any business up there.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Styles,” I answered simply. He ran his hand through his hair as he glared at me. “What?”

“Do you know who that is?” He squinted his eyes at me.

I nodded, “Obviously. He’s the CEO of the company you currently plant your expensively looking shoes on.” I decided to turn away from him and face the closed doors as the elevator lifted us to the top. My fingers fiddled with each other as they worriedly waited for them to suddenly open.

I felt the man, I still hadn’t caught the name of, walk up behind me before shifting to lean against the wall next to me. “Another question then. Have you met him before?” I shook my head, nervously brushing at my skirt. “Okay?”

“Is something wrong?” I glanced at him beside me.

“Not at all, darling,” He smiled sincerely, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “You look great, by the way. Trying to make a good first impression?”

“Something like that,” I gazed down at my outfit and sighed proudly. “I could ask the same thing, though. You look very—” I motioned to his outfit, unable to find the right word.

“Sexy? It’s definitely the eyes, right? Think Styles would be jealous?” He smirked, and I threw my head back to laugh. “I’m surprised he hasn’t made me the public face of his company. Do you know how many more clients we’d get if this face was plastered everywhere?”

I rolled my eyes at his obvious narcissism. “I think you just proved why Mr. Styles doesn’t need you as the public face of Pleasing. Keep dreaming, though,” I teased, patting his shoulder. The man chuckled, swatting my hand away as he stood upright.

Right as he was about to speak, a sudden thud and pause of the elevator caught his words in his throat. The lights strung along the walls of the elevator instantly shut off, leaving us in complete darkness. My instinct had me grabbing the man’s arm and hugging it as I braced for impact. He was on the same page as he wrapped an arm across my collarbone and held my farther shoulder, pulling me against him.

When nothing followed the complete shut down of the elevator, I fluttered my eyes open, but was met with pitch black. Just great.

The man and I stayed frozen in our spots as I listened to his slow breathing. “What’s happening?” I whispered-asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I think it’s a power outage,” He muttered in an annoyed tone, “Un-fucking-real. How the hell did that happen?”

I knew he wasn’t asking me, but I was too panicked and frantic to not answer, hoping to get my mind off the fact I was trapped in an elevator, in the dark. ��They happen all the time, it’s probably nothing, right? It’ll come back on in a few minutes. Definitely.”

“Hey, are you okay?” He slowed down his words, moving himself so he was standing in front of me, and both of his hands held my shoulders. I couldn’t see his face and it started to terrify me, making the unfortunate situation more real. I was stuck on a fucking elevator in the pitch black dark.

“Besides having a fear of getting stuck in an elevator and complete darkness, I’m fantastic,” I laughed, copingly. I couldn’t hide in the quiver of my voice that I was on the verge of tears. My day was starting to turn to shit. But at least I wasn’t alone.

I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a hard sigh. The man had let go of my shoulders and walked away as he mumbled incoherent curses under his breath.

“This building isn’t allowed to have power outages. We are too fucking successful and busy as hell to have power outages. This is bullshit,” He started to grumble. I heard his shoes aggressively pace around the wide elevator, back and forth, behind me.

“Fuck,” I whimpered, letting my legs give out as I fell to my knees and sat back on my heels. I covered my eyes and focused on calming down my fast beating heart. “You’re okay, you’re gonna be fine,” I sighed to myself, with a slight laugh in disbelief.

I heard the man approach me again and kneel down in front of me. He gently touched my thighs and rubbed his thumbs against them. “Hey, listen to me. We are gonna be just fine, I promise you that. I’m right here, you’re not alone,” He assured me.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to stay calm but this is just really fucking unfortunate.” He laughed and hummed in agreement.

We were quiet for a few moments and it started to feel like I was alone, so I reached out for him. My hands laid on top of his own on my thighs. He turned his hands over to hold mine and I sighed in relief.

“I left my phone in my office. I just came downstairs to meet someone for a quick second. Do you have yours?” He suddenly asked.

I widened my eyes and reached into my handbag for my phone. “Why didn’t I think of that? Should we call someone?” I asked, finally able to see the man as his face hit the light of my screen.

He shook his head. “There’s no reason to. We can’t go anywhere until the power is back on. But they know people are on the elevator, and we are a very busy business, so we have to be up and running as soon as possible,” He explained. I turned on the flash and scanned the elevator, already forgetting what it had looked like.

“That’s a little comforting,” I tried to smile. The man easily returned one and rubbed my shoulder.

“Good,” He nodded, before taking my phone from me to place it in the corner so the whole elevator was lit. We both turned to the back wall to find our shadows crawling on the ceiling. “We have some company.”

“The more the merrier,” I chuckled, pushing my hair behind my ears.

“That one over there is kind of cute, though. Think she’s single?” He pointed to my shadow with a sly smirk. I darted my eyes to him and laughed.

“I think she is actually. Think you got the guts to talk to her?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. And she’s totally my type.”

I shrugged, “Maybe you should then. I mean, who could say no to the possible public face of Pleasing?” It was his turn to laugh as he threw his head back.

We both fell silent again and I didn’t realize I was still smiling until my cheeks asked to be relaxed. The man brought his hands up to play with the multiple rings on his fingers as his lips spoke words that didn’t leave his throat. I watched him quietly, hugging myself as the realization of where I was kicked in again.

I turned back around to the front of the elevator and stared at the dead buttons. I started clicking each, falsely hoping one would light up. I glanced over my shoulder at the man to find his back facing me.

I realized that his name was still a mystery to me. He was occupied in his own head so I tapped his back to get his attention. He swiftly turned around and raised his brows at me.

“This might be a weird question to ask right now, but what’s your name?”

The man chuckled, before answering, “Harry, and no worries, love.”

“Thank you. I’m Y/N,” I blew out a breath. He repeated my name softly before smiling.

“I like that name a lot, it’s beautiful,” He nodded to himself. “And thank you for joining me in this unfortunate situation, Y/N. I’m grateful to have you here.”

“Same,” I chuckled, “just can’t believe this is happening. I’m supposed to be in a meeting. Not stuck here. The last place I want to be.”

“Hey, wait a minute, I’m not so bad.” I felt a soft push to my shoulder. I laughed and did it back to him.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Harry,” I rolled my eyes. “I just had this day planned for weeks. I was ready for this day and now... I’m stuck in an elevator.” My face fell and I quickly turned my head away before he could see it. He was trying his best to stay calm, so I wanted to do the same.

Harry suddenly grabbed one of my hands and led us to the elevator's back wall. "Sit," he said, sliding down the wall. I followed his orders and sat down next to him. He scooted close enough that our arms brushed each other, but neither of us minded. “We’ll be out soon and I’ll talk to Mr. Styles afterwards to make sure you still have your interview.”

I smiled widely, “Thank you, Harry.” Then I frowned. “Wait, I didn’t even realize you guys have the same name. Isn’t that cool, right?”

Harry stared at me as his face went blank. I thought back to my words, wondering if I said something wrong.

“Sorry?” I mumbled with a raised brow. “Did I say something?”

“No, nothing. But it’s no problem. It’s the least I could do,” he shrugged, brushing off whatever I said wrong. And so did I.

We were back to our original silence, besides Harry keeping up his grumbling curses at the power outage. I chuckled under my breath at the way his accent changed the tone of his words. He suddenly stopped, and I felt a pinch on my thigh. “You laughing at me, Y/N?”

I shook my head, “Not at all.”

“You sure, I felt a little vibration coming from you. Something you want to share with the elevator?”

I rested my head against the wall, but let it turn to the side to face him. “I just think you’re probably more upset about the power outage than Mr. Styles. I didn’t think it would make you this angry,” I shrugged.

Harry didn’t answer at first, only staring at the elevator doors. “It’s just… I know how pushed back we’re gonna be now. It’s probably mayhem on every floor.”

I nodded, “Makes sense. Mr. Styles probably loves your dedication.”

“He does, I’m his favorite,” he smirked as he turned his head to meet eyes with me. I gave him a bored look before rolling my eyes. “Wow, you don’t think so? You don’t even know him, apparently.”

“I can’t imagine you being anyone’s favorite anything.”

“But I am your favorite ‘stuck in an elevator’ buddy, aren’t I?”

“Do I really get a choice? This is a first,” I shrugged. Harry laughed and smoothly slid his arm around my shoulder with a soft sigh. Without much thought of it, I leaned my head against his and closed my eyes.

I was just hoping Mr. Styles would still consider my interview that day. Harry did say he’d make sure it would happen, and I wanted to take his word for it. I was almost desperate.

To break the silence, Harry asked, “Where are you from?”

“Here, born and raised,” I answered simply. “You?”

“England.”

I chuckled, “Shocker,” as if his accent didn’t give it away. He poked my cheek and I swatted his thigh. “When did you start working here?”

I felt him shrug before humming in thought. “Don’t remember when but I was one of the firsts hired here.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.” I set my hand out in between us, and he snorted before taking it and accepting my firm shake.

“You got the shake down, very business ready, I see.”

“Think Mr. Styles will be impressed?” I asked. My head turned towards him with a smirk plastered on my face. “He might even like mine better than yours.”

Harry rolled his lips inwards as he stared back at me. I lifted my brows, waiting for a snarly remark from him, but he didn’t say anything. His eyes drifted across my face before landing on my lips.

He started to speak, but suddenly stopped himself. I frowned, reaching to flick at his nose, causing his prominent dimples to spread. He quickly grabbed my finger and brought it to my own nose to flick.

“I feel like we’ve been here for more than an hour,” I whispered because he was right in front of me. His eyes wouldn’t leave my lips, which made me a little self conscious. “It’s probably been like twenty minutes, right?”

“Time is a little tricky when you’re stuck in an elevator,” He joked, “but I’d say about that. I don’t know about you, but I’m quite enjoying my stay at Le Elevator Pleasing.” He attempted a pretty good French accent as he shut his eyes to speak.

I chuckled and clapped in amusement.

“Thank you, thank you,” He slight bowed. “Do I get a kiss or something for my performance?” My eyes widened at his brave request, but he only smirked and flicked my nose again. My words got caught up in my throat as I tried to come up with a slick reply, but that really threw me off.

Instead of answering, I glanced down at his lips and bit the inside of my own.

“Oh, love, now you’re just asking for it, yeah?” He groaned, leaning closer to my face. I kept my eyes where they were, letting my free hand fall on his thigh.

“Do you want one or not?” I whispered with a sudden new found confidence. Harry’s smile grew tremendously wide as he nodded.

He shifted his body in my direction and used the arm that was around my shoulder to bring me closer. “Are you sure, Y/N?” His voice dropped, sending all kinds of shivers down my spine. His eyes didn’t know where to look as they shot all across my face.

I nodded at his question, but he shook his head. He reached his free hand to tap my lip. Words, his eyes darkened. “Yes, please,” I let out a helpless breath.

“Good girl,” He groaned, our noses finally touching. He knocked mine softly to angle my head to the side. Our lips swiftly grazed each other and I could’ve gasped by the softness of his.

“Yes,” I repeated, grabbing the back of his head and tangling my fingers in his tight curls. I could tell he wanted to tease me again as his hand ran up my hip before digging his hand into my side.

Without letting my mind overthink it, I simply connected our lips and unconsciously moaned softly within it. Harry quickly accepted and took over.

I had only known this man for… however long… and I trusted him more than any man I know.

The kiss got sloppy and desperate. Our tongues fought and our teeth clashed. Harry’s low groans and my whimpers as he sucked on my bottom lip every so often played as elevator music. His arms moved to hold my waist and pulled me fully onto his lap. My skirt rose to my hips as my knees sat on each side of him.

I was the first to pull away with heavy breaths. His lips rested on my forehead as his hands traveled down to my ass to grope them unabashedly. “What did we just do?” I frowned as I lifted my head up to him. I expected him to be as surprised as I was but he simply smiled. “What?”

“I’m waiting for you. I’m not done, baby,” He leaned his head back against the wall, keeping his large, ring cladded fingers on my cheeks. “I love these panties, by the way. Fucking hot.” I glanced over my shoulder and arched my back to see my ass, forgetting about the set of undergarment I threw on that morning.

“It’s just black?” I looked back at him as he sighed a soft moan.

“Don’t arch like that, Y/N. Fuck me,” He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. I suddenly yelped at the hard slap to my left cheek. “Come here, baby.” His other hand came up to my jaw to pull us back into an intimate kiss.

It was a little slower than before, but definitely hotter. His hands guided my ass to rock on his lap at a slow pace. I felt short shocks between my legs as my heat would occasionally brush the new obvious dent in his pants.

My hands reached for the two buttons on his blazer and quickly slid it off his shoulders. His lips moved down to my neck as I moaned out at a specific spot he sucked at. I tried to quickly deal with his dress shirt, but my hands began to shake at the feeling of his pointer finger secretly running up my slit.

I threw my head back, giving him more access to my neck, which he hummed as thanks. His lips slid to my jaw then my ear.

“You’re so fucking hot, Y/N,” He whispered. “And you’re already soaking your panties. Who is it for, baby? Tell me.” He hooked his finger into my panties before letting it snap against my cunt. I gasped, tugging at the curls my hand was tangled in. His finger came up between us to display the pad coated.

“Please, Harry,” I whimpered, unbeknownst what I was specifically asking for. His eyes locked with mine as his tongue darted out and his wet finger entered his mouth. My lips fell apart as I watched intensely. My cunt squeezed against nothing and my toes suddenly curled.

Harry hummed as his lips wrapped around his finger before sliding it out clean. “Fuck,” his slurred. “You taste so good, Y/N. I’m gonna need more.”

Oh my god.

I started pulling at his shirt that I desperately wanted off of him. He glanced down and smiled.

“You never answered my question, darling,” He shook his head in disappointment. “Who has you fucking soaked like this? And you haven’t even been touched. Who?” What an ass. I wanted to roll my eyes, but his finger that slowly traced my heat over my panties allowed it to pass in the moment.

“You, Harry. God...” I groaned, my head falling on his shoulder.

“Good girl,” He hummed, easily unbuttoning his shirt before pealing it off his skin and throwing to the side with his blazer. I was at awe at what hid under his shirt. Unexpected tattoos sprinkled around his body, like the huge butterfly that sat dead center of his stomach. “Your turn.”

I sat back up to allow him to untuck my blouse from my skirt and throw it over my head. My hips didn’t stop rolling over his pants as I let out a small gasp. As soon as Harry caught my almost naked chest, his lips immediately latched onto my breast that were basically spilling out of my matching bra.

His hands went wild, grabbing at me everywhere. My hips couldn’t stop as I bucked deeper in his lap. He let out a single groan through his lips that were pulling down my bra to latch onto my nipple. When I pushed down against him again, his hips thrusted up, causing my hands to hold onto his shoulders for balance.

I needed him. Bad.

“Take off your pants,” I begged him as he ripped my bra off and immediately went back to sucking at my breast harshly, definitely leaving a dark mark later. His eyes were shut as his arms wrapped around my waist to hold me close to him. I arched my back like earlier, earning a whimpering moan and another thrust of his hips against my cunt.

It was getting hot as our bodies molded together, desperately needing to be close. My hands reached between us to blindly search for the zipper to Harry’s pants. He showed no intention of letting go of my nipples as his lips would switch every few seconds to suck on the other.

“I want to see you, Harry baby. Please let me see your cock. I can feel you against my clit and fuck… my cunt is so fucking tight and hot. I need you in me,” I leaned down to his ear to whisper before kissing it.

I don’t know who was more surprised of my sudden dirty talk, Harry or myself, but I was so needy for him. It was the only way to get him to let my breasts go.

“Your cunt needs to filled up, huh?” He pushed my hand away to quickly undo his pants. I lifted myself off of him to let him slid them all the way off and towards the pile of clothes. While he did that, I unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it before placing myself back on his lap. By then, it was only my panties and his boxers keeping us apart.

Harry peppered kisses along my jaw then trailed back to my lips. They brushed against each other as we both breathed roughly. My arms tightened around his neck to bring us closer.

“Can I taste you first, baby? I’m so hungry for more of you,” he asked, letting his hands fall back down to my ass and massage them. I nodded rapidly, kissing him softly. “Lay down for me, beautiful. I’m gonna take such good care of you, okay?” I smiled and moved off his lap.

Before my back hit the floor, Harry reached for his blazer and placed it under me. I thanked him and finally laid back. Harry didn’t waste any time moving between my legs. I leaned up and propped myself on my elbows to watch him.

Harry laid down on his stomach and ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he stared at the wet spot on my panties. He brought his nose closer and breathed in a satisfied hum.

“You smell so good, Y/N. Are you gonna let me eat you out? Let me play with your clit?” He asked, rubbing his finger harshly over my panties. Words got stuck in my throat as I gasped at his finger swiping over my clit. “Answer me.”

“Yes, please, Harry,” I whined, my hands running through his curls. He smirked and hooked his finger into my panties to let it slide down my legs. He didn’t move his eyes from my heat as he threw my panties behind him.

His eyes stared at my opening with an agape look, and I wanted to immediately close my legs to hide it because I didn’t know what that meant. “I know it’s not the best looking, but—“

“Shush,” Harry darted his eyes to me. “It’s so fucking beautiful that I don’t know where to start first,” he breathed before biting his lip to hold back whatever threatened to come out his throat.

“Oh, okay,” I nodded shyly, glad it wasn’t the latter.

Harry smirked, finally gliding his pointer finger along my whole vagina, flicking at my hole, my walls, then my clit, causing my hips to thrust against it.

I groaned and tugged at his hair, begging for more. His other arm circled my thigh as he brought his face closer to where I was basically dripping for him.

His sole finger finally pushed itself into me and instantly curled to hit just the right spot. I harshly bit my lip to hold back the loud moan that was about to leave my mouth. “Oh my god, Harry,” I hissed at him. He chuckled under his breath as he continued to thrust his finger at a quick pace.

His mouth decided to join him as his tongue met my clit with a long strip. My back arched off the floor, and I pushed myself against him with my hips. He quickly kitten licked my clit as he hastily added another finger, stretching my walls.

“You weren’t kidding about being tight, baby. Can barely fit my fingers? Don’t know if you can take all of my cock,” Harry groaned against my clit, coming out a little muffled. I wanted to respond, but all that came out were loud moans.

His mouth was skilled as his tongue flicked along my whole cunt then sucked and kissed my clit. His fingers pulled out of me before spreading my lips and replacing with his tongue. He plunged straight in a couple of times, slightly swirling to hit my walls. I slurred a groan and bucked against his mouth.

I continued to squirm in his hold, but with just his one arm around the thigh, he was able to keep me right where he wanted.

His thumb reached up to circulate my clit with rapid flicking as his tongue worked faster. “Fuck Harry, I think I’m—“ I hissed, pulling his head closer.

He paused his movements and planted gentle kisses against my lips and clit before finally looking up at me with dark eyes and a wild smirk.

“Not yet,” he spoke, sitting up on his knees and lifting my thighs up to his lips to line kisses down the inside until he reached my calves. “I’m gonna need you to come on my cock, darling.”

His eyes were hooded and drunk as he stared down at my completely naked body. His hands ran up my sides to my breasts and used both hands to grope each. He hummed as he leaned down to kiss both nipples and suck harshly.

“Please,” I whispered as I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing his body closer to mine. He placed both arms next to my head and rested himself on top of me. With his weight pressing against me, I felt his internal heat and immediately felt safe under him. His head fell in the crook of my neck and he attacked behind my ear with gentle kisses. His breath was heavy and mixed with low groans.

His hips involuntarily bucked against me, causing both of us to moan. I let one arm leave his neck to reached down between us, searching for his cock over his boxers. His lips left my neck to hover over mine. “I need to be in you so bad,” he basically whimpered, groaning with rough dry humps.

“I got you, it’s okay,” I kissed him as I slipped my hand under his boxers and grabbed his girthy cock.

“Oh god, Y/N,” he hissed, immediately thrusting into my hand. His teeth bit into my bottom lip with his eyes squeezed shut. I ran my finger down the length and was caught off guard by how long he was. “Are you clean? I am.”

I nodded, “Yeah, and I’m on the pill.” Harry hummed in response before kissing me once more. I pulled Harry’s cock out of his boxers and slowly stroked him.

He had to take a sharp breath to control his incoming moan. “You’re killing me, baby.” I snorted, kissing his cheek that popped out a dimple.

Harry swiftly slid his boxers off of himself, leaving us both completely naked in the half dark. My hand never stopped stroking his now fully hard cock that dripped with precum. I swiped my thumb over his tip to collect the juices, earning a puff of air on my shoulder.

“You ready for me, baby?” He asked, taking himself into his own hand and teasingly running his tip against my heat. I gulped, grabbing his shoulders and nodding. “Use your words, Y/N. I need you to tell me. Let me hear you.”

“Yes, I need you so bad. Please, I can’t take it,” I moaned, lifting my hips to attempt to suck him in, but he was quick to pull away.

“I guess so because you asked so nicely,” he smirked as he finally lined himself up with my entrance. “If it hurts, you tell me stop immediately, understand?”

“Of course,” I smiled and petted his lips with my thumb. He kissed it softly before smiling back. “Thank you, Harry.” We shared a sentimental stare for a few comfortable seconds in silence.

Harry cleared his throat when he realized what we were just about to do. He looked down between us and slowly pushed himself in. I sucked in a breath as I instantly felt him stretching my walls but in all the right ways. He wasn’t just long but thick. And he was veiny. I felt every inch of him as he continued to enter me slowly.

His head picked up to watch me with his jaw dropping and brows furrowing. He moaned loudly and connected our lips to swallow my own.

My arms tightened around his neck, and my fingers twirled in his hair, ready to tug as the pleasure increased. I felt him completely fill me up, and I knew I'd remember that feeling for the rest of my life. He was the first to have my walls clenching so tightly that I felt like bursting already.

“Tell me how it feels, Y/N. Let me hear you,” Harry demanded, eyes meeting mine. His arms slithered under my body to hug around me, holding my upper back as it arched.

I threw my head back as he leaned down to kiss along my collarbones. “You feel so fucking good. You’re so big, Harry, I can feel you in my stomach,” I groaned.

His knees finally bent to start a faster thrusting pace. Our skins slapped against each other loudly as a replica of the elevator music. My legs wrapped around his waist tightly due to my shaking legs. I was already close from him fingering me, but his cock quickly pounding my cunt was making it very hard to hold it.

I suddenly felt a wave of pleasure when he changed the angle, hitting a specific spot. My nails dug into him as I gasped. “Right there… fuck. Please don’t stop, please. God Harry,” I cried, unable to control the moans that left me.

“Right here? Did I find your sweet spot, baby? I knew I could figure you out quickly,” he whispered in my ear.

My breasts bounced roughly against his chest, feeling his warmth all through my body. It got hot very quickly in the big elevator. And loud.

Harry’s thrusts got sloppy so I knew he was getting close. His head fell back on my shoulder as his breath stuttered. His hips went faster, pushing deeper than I thought he could ever reach.

My legs tightened around him so I could rock my hips into him, brushing my clit against him, forming a new found pleasure. It was unbelievable. I knew I was close and wouldn’t be able to hold back, even if he demanded me to.

“Close, so fucking close,” was all I could breathe out as all thoughts disappeared from my mind.

“Yeah, you’re gonna milk my cock, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” I nodded. “I can’t hold it much longer, you feel so good.”

Harry pushed himself into me even faster, knowing how to get me off, though it was our first time. His lips found mine again and our tongues swirled together messily.

It felt like a balloon inside of me was slowly being poked by a needle. Only a few more seconds and I was gonna burst. “I’m coming, fuck,” I whined, holding Harry even tighter.

His thrusts continued at the same brutal pace and he reached between us to thumb at my clit. “Come for me, Y/N. Let me feel you all around my cock. I can’t wait any longer.”

That was all I needed for the balloon to finally pop. I had to cover my mouth to silence the surprising noise that left my lips. A wave of euphoria traveled all through my body as I finally let go. My body paused but Harry kept pounding in me, chasing his own release.

His hips push into me one last time before he spurts himself deep in my cunt, coating my walls. He groaned softly, dropping himself on top of me. A layer of sweat formed along his forehead and I took the initiative to wipe it away.

We both breathed loudly in sync, waiting for the energy in our bodies to come back. I suddenly felt embarrassed as I realized I was still naked under him. My arm slid between us to cover my breasts as I looked off to the side. Harry immediately noticed and grabbed my jaw to bring my eyes back to him.

“What are you doing? Don’t hide from me,” he frowned before kissing me.

“Sorry,” I blushed, “I always get like this when I’m naked, even when I’m alone.”

“Well don’t do it in front of me. I’m obsessed with your body, Y/N. Look, I’m already hard for you again,” he motioned to his cock growing against his stomach.

I gasped before laughing, patting his cheek. “Cute but I’m spent.”

“That’s fine, love. Let’s get dressed because I can’t control myself for much longer when you’re looking like that.” I nodded and waited until he sat up to scurry to the pile of clothes and change into my outfit.

I tugged at the end of my skirt once more and pushed my hair off my shoulders while inhaling a confident breath. A few words of encouragement had me knocking on the double doors of the office I should’ve been at thirty minutes ago.

I had already rehearsed my apologies for my tardiness even though it clearly wasn’t my fault. One rumor that passed around about the CEO of the company was that everything was your fault. No matter what it was.

As I waited for a voice allowing me to enter, I realized that I never received one. My brows furrowed as I knocked again. The frosted glass doors made it impossible to see if anyone was even inside. I would’ve thought Mr. Styles was on the top floor during the outage and already back in his office before I got there.

“Waiting for the big boss?” A tall silhouette hovered behind me. His hands met my hips, pushing himself against my back.

“Yeah, but I don’t think he’s here. Must’ve left to figure out the means of the power outage,” I assumed, turning around to face the man I literally had between my legs not even ten minutes ago.

His aura felt different from before. He seemed more predatory as he watched me intensely. I chuckled as his sudden change of demeanor.

“You okay, Harry?” I asked, brushing my hands down his suit, noticing the lint it must’ve picked up from being on the elevator floor.

“Of course, darling. Just waiting on someone,” he smirked, moving to the wall next to the double doors and leaning against it by his shoulder. His hand held out for me and I instantly took it. He pulled my body against his and let his hands wander unabashedly. I nodded at his response, letting him roam his hand down to my ass before giving it a teasing pinch.

“Do I still look okay? I mean, for my meeting? Does it look like I just got brutally fucked in an elevator?” I joked, scrunching my nose at him. He threw his head back to laugh before shaking his head.

“I can’t even tell. All I see is a beautiful, confident, meeting ready woman of my dreams,” he sucked up, leaning down to kiss me. “I hope this isn’t the last time you’ll let me kiss and touch you like this. I quite enjoyed today. I enjoy you a lot.”

I instantly blushed, “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t think it’ll be very professional to treat my hopefully future coworker like this. I’ll have to ask my potential boss,” I joked, hugging him by his waist. His finger nipped at my lip as he hummed. “Who are you even waiting for? I just know it’s chaotic downstairs after everyone being put back due to the outage. Don’t you have to get back to work?”

We both turned our heads down a hallway that emitted loud and quick clinks of heels. As the noise approached us, I instantly dropped my hands from Harry and fixed my posture. He continued to lean against the wall nonchalantly, so I furrowed my brows at him but he just pinched my hip.

“Stay professional,” I quickly scolded him before the pair of heels finally revealed a tall lengthy woman with her hair flying behind her as she took far steps due to her stretched legs. I could only wish for that kind of body.

“Oh great, thank god I found you. Things have gone to complete shit,” the woman blurted to Harry while frustratingly pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s like everyone forgot how to do anything.”

Harry chuckled, standing up straight to outgrow her. He glanced at me and smiled. “I figured, but I can’t worry about that right now. I have an interview.”

“Oh right, Y/N L/N, right?” She nodded before turning her attention to me. “And you must be her?”

I blankly switched my eyes between the two of them, trying to comprehend the little information I was just informed of. I was utterly confused, and still mesmerized by that woman’s body. It was surreal.

“Wait, I have an interview with Mr. Styles. The CEO of the company,” I pointed out, motioning to double doors we all stood outside of.

Harry continued to smile as the woman gave him a confused look. He reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a single key. He turned his back to us to fiddle with the door as the woman looked at me.

“Miss L/N, I think you must be unaware, but he is Mr. Styles, the CEO,” she tilted her head as she laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Have you not seen a picture of him on magazines?”

“Wait, you’re Mr. Styles!” I gasped, poking at Harry’s back. “Like the Harry Styles?” He didn’t answer, so the woman did.

“Yeah, he’s everywhere. Did you seriously not recognize this man?” I shook my head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “Well I hope you haven’t said or done anything to him that you shouldn’t have. He could be your potential boss.”

Harry finally opened the door to what I assumed was his office then turned to face us. He brought his attention to the woman first, and I made her out to be his assistant. “Can you cancel my 1:30 meeting and 2:15 lunch with Hank Rivers? I’ll be busy.” The woman instantly nodded and looked down at the iPad that hugged against her chest. Harry quickly sent me a single wink.

“Done and done. I’ll leave you until then.”

“Okay, thanks Amanda,” he said as she turned on her heel and walked back to where she had came from.

I didn’t noticed my mouth was hanging agape until Harry used his finger to push my jaw up. “You seem surprised?” He motioned for me to walk into his office, and as I passed, he pinched one of my ass cheeks.

“I just can’t believe I fucked the CEO that was supposed to be interviewing me for a potential job,” I sighed, rubbing my hands over my eyes. “Listen Mr. Styles—“

“What happened to Harry?” He walked past me and sat on top of his desk, in front of the two leather seats for guests. He motioned for me to come over and stand between his legs, which I shook my head at. “Don’t get all shy with me now, Y/N.”

“You’re the CEO of the company I wanted to work at, Mr. Styles, and we fucked in the elevator. This changes things.” I hugged myself as I shifted the weight of my legs from one to the other. “I messed things up now. You knew I was here to be interviewed by you and still let us do all that shit in the elevator, you sly fucker.”

“What would you like me to say? I’m not sorry about it, and I definitely want to do it again if you’re up for it,” he smirked, sliding his blazer off his shoulders before rolling them back to stretch his muscles.

I shook my head and took a step towards the doors. “No, never again. This isn’t right. I—“

“Y/N, calm down. I’m just messing with you, baby,” he raised his hands up in surrender. “I'll forget everything that happened, which I'd hate to do, and we can start over for the sake of this interview. Will it make you feel any better?" He raised his brows at me.

I bit my lip and shrugged with uncertainty. I didn’t regret what happened because it was really good, but the whole situation wasn’t right. I blew out a breath and ran my fingers through my hair.

Harry hopped off his desk and stalked over to me. His hands instantly grabbed my jaw and held me into a long and slow kiss. I moaned within it, holding his hips.

“I really hope you don’t want to start over because I’m already obsessed with you, Y/N,” Harry pulled back slightly to speak. Each word brushed his plush lips against mine.

I shrugged, “I don’t want to, but I feel like I have some sort of advantage now. I wanted to interview for this job like everyone else and get it with my own strengths.”

Harry smiled, kissing me once again. “That’s fair, I love that actually. I’m gonna have Amanda, my assistant, come back and do the interview. She knows me very well and would know if you’re worthy. How’s that sound?” He asked, poking my nose with his thumb as his hands stayed cupping my jaw.

“I would like that a lot, thank you.”

“Good.”

Harry pulled me in for one last kiss and landed a hard slap to my ass.

Fuck that took forever, I’m sorry ahahshah

PART TWO ;)

#harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x yn #harry styles blurb #ceo!harry #harry styles au

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pix3lplays · 4 months

Note

the aventurine thoughts are being had right now i’m going insane.

pathetic man he’s so silly and pathetic i will punch him

like. he’s so unaware and very very confident in himself.

imagine at the start of him and you dating, he gets then extravagant gifts that are definitely NOT suited to your taste. you simply smile and try to decline, but he takes it as ‘oh wow, can’t accept this, too expensive’ rather than a ‘aeons this is so ugly but i’m trying to be nice about it.’

so he keeps gifting you the gifts. at a point you’re just confused and a too lazy to actually properly decline (plus he keeps insisting and insisting and you have no room for refusal) so you just sell the gifts at the end of the day, behind his back.

maybe a little further down the line, he finds out about the gift selling. okay in fairness, you have been giving him nice gifts using the credits you get (you know… actually nice gifts that are suited to his taste) but he’s still pretty offended.

maybe he finds a records of you selling these gifts (like… receipts? idk man) and maybe he goes to confront you but he bumps into a friend of yours who notices what he has in his hands.

“oh? they clearly really hate your gifts, you know. they’ve been complaining to me about it, lamenting the fact that they can’t get anything suited to their tastes…”

“well, why didn’t they refuse?” (he still can’t fathom he idea of you not liking the gifts? when you clearly accepted them?)

“um. they tried.”

so at this point aventurine accepts defeat and pesters the friend into getting your tastes in clothing, jewellery, all your interests and the like. so you’re really surprised when you notice a shift in the gift giving — suddenly you get that really nice top you wanted, or a pair of sunglasses that have been on your wishlist for a while. suddenly you get books and tools for the things you’re interested in. you’re extremely confused.

aventurine lies. “oh, i knew this all along! i was just testing the waters, of course. a gambler simply enjoys seeing if his gambles (of gift giving) pay off or not.” for like 3 weeks he’s been giving you terrible gifts and he still can’t acknowledge he had no idea what you liked. pathetic man <3

yeah hs’s so pathetic i love him

Alright wow that’s hilarious thank you for this-

Notes: super silly, goofy Aventurine, just going off a silly headcanon that Aventurine has bad taste

I LOVE Aventurine and yeah his sense of style is GREAT but something about him tells me he also has really Bad taste sometimes too-

Kinda obsessed with Aventurine thinking ah yes: things I like=stuff you like.

No…no, Aventurine.

I’m sorry if you like this kinda stuff but I’m picturing he’s a big fan of like…OBNOXIOUS animal print. Not just regular animal print, I’m talking super obnoxious. I’m not crazy right you know what I’m talking about?? (No animals were harmed it’s just a pattern lol.)

He seems like the type who thinks that matching couples outfits are GREAT. Which, sure yeah, but…not when Aventurine’s subjecting you to his bad taste haha.

Matching sunglasses? Ok yeah that’s cute you can do that.

No no Aventurine likes to bust out the glittery clothes that you can’t even look directly at lest you damage your eyes-

You’re like no I’m sorry I cannot wear that-

And he doesn’t understand, haha…Well okay he’s gonna wear it anyways.

Aventurine’s great because sometimes you look at him and say “why are you dressed like that?” and he’s being DEAD SERIOUS when he says “like what?”

But he’s also your boyfriend. He can dress however he wants and if anyone gives him a hard time they’ll have to answer to you-

Also I was very vague when I mentioned this ask to @fire-lizard-ro and they had some fun thoughts hehe. So thank you, Roro!!

So yes your friend could give him a hint, but they had another idea I thought was also interesting.

Aventurine getting frustrated that you’re not very receptive to his expensive gifts so finally he just gives up and gets you a bouquet of flowers and…

It’s the first time he’s ever seen you genuinely excited about a gift he’s gotten you.

Then you start explaining what the flowers mean and why the gift means so much to you and then it HITS him.

O H. The gift has to MEAN something. Okay, okay he can do that. He got LUCKY with the flowers but at least he KNOWS now.

Although he’s not great at it at first. How can he make a gift “mean” something??

He discovers he has to be more attentive to you to figure out what you like. It’s a little strange at first, Aventurine taking such an interest in you all of a sudden. Asking you about yourself, not so subtly trying to figure out what you like…it’s odd but you must admit that his gift-giving skills have gotten MUCH better.

He still has this problem with getting you the most expensive gifts he can possibly get but…at least you’re actually keeping his gifts now. And he does feel Very proud when you’re wearing those new sunglasses he bought you or maybe displaying stuff in your home that he’s given you.

Unfortunately you’ll never talk him out of spending too much money on you.

Now I’m having a vision of him taking you to a fancy restaurant and he hits you with, “one of everything for you, dear?” and you’re obviously like, “No??” and then he confidently orders you one of everything anyways.

“Aventurine we look ridiculous with ALL that food coming to our table…”

But the more I think about it…yeah, Aventurine likes looking and feeling rich. He likes spoiling you too. You don’t know how to explain that the whole “money can buy love” doesn’t work on you.

Ah well. It’s how he shows he loves you, so you can’t say too much about it.

Maybe he’ll eventually figure it out but somehow I doubt it haha. But at least his gifts have gotten SO much better!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Aventurine x reader #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader

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badasgirlfriend · 8 months

Text

Step By Step | Bada Lee

pairings: bada lee x fem!oc

genre: friends to lovers, student x teacher

a/n: idk i just had an idea

parts: 1, 2 , 3.....

"Sorry." The short-haired girl bowed as she bumped into a man. He turned, his face twisted with anger, and he uttered a curse at her.

The girl winced at his harsh words, but she can't blame him, it was her fault after all. She's the one running around like a headless chicken

With a sigh of frustration, she began running once more. She didn't plan on being late, but her teacher had insisted that she remain after class for discussion of some things. To her, they were utterly stupid matters, but she had no choice but to comply. She was quite certain that the teacher was merely looking to curry favor with her, just because her mom is a famous ballerina.

"Sorry maam." Nari said to the older woman, " Do you happen to know where the-" she paused looking at her phone "Jam Republic agency is located?"

The older woman scoffed "Are you blind"

Nari was astonished by her bluntness, she didn't expect that

"It's right behind you. Even at my age, I can see better than you, it would seem."

"Well, you're not wrong about that." she replied, murmuring the statement to herself, and quickly added, "Thank you. Have a nice day"

Turning away, she saw that the old lady had been correct all along. With an exasperated sigh, she pushed through the door leading into the building,

As her eyes scanned the unfamiliar surroundings, she soon spotted the reception's desk. However, to her dismay, no one seemed to be stationed there. Walking a bit closer, she placed her bag on the ground and sat in one of thr chairs.

After waiting a few minutes, and not hearing or seeing anybody else, Nari finally decided to proceed with her outfit change. She had no desire to keep waiting around, and risk anyone seeing her in her tight pastel pink skirt and green top. Her mothers choices

Just as Nari began to stand, she spotted a tall girl exit through a doorway nearby. She was wearing a white shirt, grey sweatpants, and a grey zip-up hoodie. The girl had a white hat on concealing most of her features, making it quite difficult for Nari to take a good look at her face at all.

Not to mention, the girl was looking straight down at the ground, making it even more difficult for Nari to see her expression.

With a quick motion, she locked the bathroom door and took out her clothes from her bag. First, she slipped on the black sweatpants, followed by the grey sports bra. Then, she wore the baggy t-shirt, but didn't like the way it looked, so she instead placed it behind her neck only covering her shoulders. After a few adjustments, she stood before the mirror looking at herself

Having had enough of the ugly pink bow that was on her hair, she tossed it into the trash can. Then, she gathered her hair up into a rather messy, yet loose, ponytail, securing it with an elastic band. She looked in the mirror now happy with her appearance. She felt like herself, not like the girl her mother wants her to be

She unlocked the door and went outside, entering the now familiar hallway she saw the same tall girl from earlier, sitting in one of the chairs

Embarrassing, she witnessed her outfit change

Quietly, she returned to the chair, and took her seat once more. She waited patiently for anyone to arrive, casting a glance in the direction of the tall girl, who appeared to be preoccupied with her phone, as her eyes remained firmly fixed to the screen.

"Excuse me," Nari blurted out before she could stop herself. She immediately fell silent, feeling a sudden wave of tension wash over her. The girl turned her head toward her in curiosity, and Nari became utterly speechless, as she was not expecting her to be this beautiful. Nari found herself completely unable to move, as she was simply lost for words, and utterly mesmerized by the sight of the other girl's striking looks.

"Yes?"

Fuck, not only was she attractive and beautiful, but even her voice was incredibly alluring.

In an effort to regain some level of composure, she cleared her throat, and hoped that her voice would not crack. "Uhm, do you know if Bada Lee is here?"

"I'm Bada," the girl stated, leaving Nari utterly confused

"What"

"What...?"

However, Nari's confusion only deepened, as she was under the impression that her teacher was a man, based on the information that her friend told her before.

"You're not Bada" the younger girl blurted out, shaking her head in disagreement.

Now it was Bada's turn to be confused "Im pretty sure I am" was this girl on drugs

"My friend told me that you were a man," she said

"Well, your friend is mistaken" Bada replied with a slight chuckle. "And, my name is definitely not a masculine one," she added

"Im so sorry" Unable to hold back her rage, Nari found herself itching to find her friend, Chaeyoung. With the next class being only a few short hours away, the anticipation of making Chaeyoung face her consequences was nearly unbearable.

She was in deep shit

"You're Shin Nari right." Bada asked, and Nari confirmed with a quick nod of her head.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be this young," Bada stated, looking at Nari with a confused expression. "Here it says that you're in your thirties, so this is a surprise."

Nari felt a rush of embarrassment wash over her, and she wanted to bury herself and die "Sorry I have a habit of picking random birth years everytime I apply for something"

If Bada said no to teaching her she wouldn't be surprised

"Alright, let's not waste any time and begin," Bada stated with a nod as she and Nari both stood up "Are you familiar with dance, were you a dancer before?"

"Yes Im a ballerina" Nari nodded

Bada's eyebrow raised in surprise, yet again, and she couldn't help herself from inquiring further. "Oh, really? So, what brought about the shift from ballet to hip hop?"

"Oh, but I'm not quitting ballet completely," Nari clarified with a quick glance toward Bada. "I actually love both ballet and hip hop," she added. "So what you have here is a two-for-one dancer," Nari joked, smiling at her own words.

Bada chuckled at Nari's joke, Nari was truly a sight to behold, she couldn't deny her beauty. Ever since she had first seen her, Bada was left in a state of awe at her natural beauty, and it was something that she hadn't expected at all.

However, what she hadn't anticipated either, was the fact that Nari would turn out to be her student.

"Alright, then, we will first begin with some exercises meant to loosen up your stiffness, considering your ballet background," Bada stated, clarifying their focus "This is the main priority at the moment," she added.

Nari nodded in agreement, she couldn't wait

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potatomountain · 3 months

Text

CIY- 8

Chapter Eight

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍word count: 3.3k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: mentions of mxm relationships.

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer, @yessa-vie and @daesukiii

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Before you knew it, a week had flown by and a routine was formed. Mornings were spent going to your deli and getting your coffee, where you started picking up San's as well. You weren't sure if you should grab it today since he informed you on Thursday that he had to go undercover for the weekend.

You hadn't seen Yunho or Mingi until Friday, which you expected when you heard Mingi the night before loud and clear. Of course, you bitched at him when you saw him, surprised by how easy the banter that followed and the insults. The same thing happened Saturday and even last night you had heard him. It was getting annoying, even if you had ways to block out most of the sound, you didn't like how it made you feel.

San didn't make it any easier, casually flirting with you, laying on the charm and compliments whenever he could just to leave you flustered but he was respectful about his timing. All week until he had left, leaving you frustrated in a whole new way with his absence. The fact you missed him during the weekend left a bad taste in your mouth, you didn't want to get attached. This position was temporary at best, the unlikelihood of it being permanent better than at first but still slim.

Two weeks didn't make you part of the team after all. Even if you had a growing routine and the reception was less icy, you knew that.

Getting your hopes up was a bad idea, yet here you were, standing in line at the deli for the coffee and breakfast you got almost every morning. You debated on getting San's coffee, since he said he should be there today. Would he be beaten up like last time? The bruises and cuts had barely healed before he went off and you had to admit you were a little worried.

That might be because of your old unit. Hyunjin would complain if he had a cut on his pretty face and Jisung couldn't handle a cold. Neither could Binnie, with both Felix and Minho mothering whenever anyone was injured or feeling sick. Then there was Chan-

Sighing, you shook your head, not ready to go down that road just yet. Today was the last day of your probation and you still weren't ready to talk to him or half of them- Hyunjin had been the exception because, well, he was Hyunjin. And he didn't give you the option to be ready, he insisted on being a part of your life as if nothing had happened: which you truthfully appreciated.

“Why’s such a pretty thing like you sighing? The week just started.” A voice behind you garnered your attention, so you turned to look. A pretty attractive man widened his smile, which surprised you wasn’t sleazy in the least; despite his outfit screaming a typical sleazy man. The animal print button-up, sunglasses pushing his dual-toned hair back, and the hint of a tongue stud as he licked his lips- normally it would have you sneering but on him it looked damned good. Maybe it was the eyeliner?

Either way, he was hot, and he called you pretty. “Mm no particular reason, maybe I’m just not feeling up to work today?” You offered a smile, deciding to take it a step further. “Definitely don’t want to now, not when my day just got more interesting.”

You were glad that his charming smile turned more flirty, even more so when he stepped up next to you. “I’d have to agree, not really in a hurry for my coffee now. You are much more refreshing, pretty girl.”

“Already onto pet names? Before I get your name?” You couldn’t help but tease.

He chuckled, holding out his hand. “Friends call me Mito. Nice to meet you-” Once you gave your name, he hummed thoughtfully. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Gotta say I think I’d remember seeing such a beauty around here. New job brings you this way?”

You didn’t regret your words when he was looking at you like that, as if you were the best damned meal he ever saw and he couldn’t wait to get a taste. Hell, you were ready to let him have it. Maybe it was because he was the first in a while that had flirted with you? That was a lie, there were plenty. You just had your eyes set on someone else before… now just about anyone was up for grabs.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I recently moved to the area too. Do you come here often? To this cafe?”

“A friend of mine told me to check it out, I usually go to another one about a block away.” He hummed out, stepping with you as the line moved. “But if you’re here, that’s plenty of reason to make this a regular stop.”

“Or you could just ask for my number?” The words were out before you could even stop yourself, fighting off the heat that flooded your cheeks. Were you that touch-starved that you would be so bold with a man you just met? Who didn’t even give you his real name, just a nickname?

Did that make you easy? Should you be ashamed? Maybe, but it really had been so damned long and it wasn’t like you were going to pull your clothes off for him right now.

“Then how about your number first? And I buy your coffee?” He finally offered once he pulled his eyes back to yours.

No harm in at least seeing where this goes right? “I’ll put my number in for you.” Holding out your hand, you couldn’t help but be a little giddy when he handed you his phone, contacts already open. Few seconds later and you sent yourself a text from his, handing it back just in time for the both of you to step up to the counter to order.

He rattled off four different drinks, while you rattled off two- one of them the same as one of his. You thought it was interesting, San having a common order. “Drinks for friends?”

“Co-workers. What about your extra?” Mito countered, a cheeky grin on his lips as the two of you stepped aside to wait.

“Co-worker.” One that definitely got to you in a way a co-worker shouldn’t… you could blame your sudden boldness on him. Yeah, this was all their fault. San with all his flirting and teasing and Mingi with his constant annoyance and sex sounds the past few nights.

You tried not to show how heated that train of thought made you, nor did you want to admit it any further than that.

“Mm well they’re lucky to get a coffee on me.” He winked, not at all bothered to have bought it.

“I’ll let him know the hottie at the coffee shop hopes he enjoys his coffee.” Laughing, you relaxed against the counter next to him, the two of you sharing a flirty glance. “I also appreciate it, it definitely makes my day better.”

He shrugged. “My absolute pleasure dear, I can always make your day better in other ways too. Help you relax at the end of a long day of work.”

Now that sounded really tempting. Before you could further flirt, your drinks were announced. “Well, that’s our cue, I really needed to get to work anyways.” You didn’t think they would care, but if San was there you did want to get him his coffee and check up on him. “Call me?”

You wanted to tell someone about the hottie at the cafe… was it too soon to text Hyunjin about it? Would San listen? You grimaced at that idea. Sure, tell one man you wanted to bone about a complete stranger that was much more likely to get into your pants and fast.

“Oh definitely. Good luck, beautiful.” He sent a wink in your direction before he turned to start grabbing a few of the good sugars and things. You didn’t stick around to see what he did with them.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the street that you realized you had forgotten your usual breakfast; instead of turning around to go grab it, maybe giving you a chance to see him again, you shrugged it off. Just meant a bigger lunch or you could always order something.

Such an amazing idea for sure.

Sighing as you headed into the office, you could hear the voices in the back, but you weren’t in a rush to see them just yet. You took your time setting your bag down and your laptop before grabbing San’s coffee to see if he was back.

You might have gotten a little too excited to hear his laugh when you approached the office door, only for it to drain away when you did see him. “Fuck that looks bad.”

“I’m so touched, sweetcheeks.” He had fully taken the pet name from Hyunjin and made it his own- considering how it still managed to fluster you a bit even if you were rolling your eyes at him.

San glanced up when you hissed out, brightening up despite his black eye and arm in a sling. “I’ve missed that beautiful face.” With a dimpled grin he slid off the desk to make his way over to you, stopping only because of the glare you gave him. “What? It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Rolling your eyes you approached. “Sure it isn’t, that sling is just for show. Sit your ass down, I brought you coffee.”

“Aw, but you didn’t know I was going to be here today-”

“Can you two not with the damned couple bullshit?” Jongho sneered from his desk, currently cleaning his weapon. “If it’s not you two flirting up a fucking storm, she’s at Mingi’s throat and I can’t ever tell if they are gunna fuck or fight… or both.”

Yunho laughed from his spot, nudging his friend next to him. “Well that would be great to see regardless. Think you would come out on top?”

Mingi scoffed. “Of course I would, that tiny thing couldn’t handle me. All bark, no bite, like a damned chihuahua.”

“Chihuahua’s bite.” Yunho pointed out with a grin. “And I think this little pet would claw and do some damage. Might be hot as hell though.”

Jongho gagged, pointing his empty mag at the two. “Truth be told my money is on the chihuahua, we forget Mingi is scared of dogs that bite.”

You ignored their banter for the most part, considering it was becoming a daily thing for you, and instead made San sit at his desk while he was watching you with an expression that was almost sweet. “I was hoping you would be, sue me if that makes me soft but at the moment, you are the only thing keeping me from putting a bullet in half the idiot's heads here.” You matched his grin, taking his coffee over to the little coffee station to look for the sugars he liked.

There was a loud bang from a door down the hall, what you recognized as the back entrance, but you ignored it until an unfamiliar- or perhaps somewhat familiar- voice rang in through the office.

Only to freeze.

“I’m back, bitches!!” In a high-pitched singsong tone, a new person stepped into the office. Curious, and suspecting this to be the final detective of the unit you hadn’t met, you glanced over your shoulder.

The gaudy shirt gave him away immediately, the man from the cafe setting the coffee’s on the unused desk as he began talking a mile a minute. “Sannie my man, looking better from the fight already. Got us quite a bit of rep this time around and what better way to celebrate than with a great fucking pussy? Seriously met the hottest fucking broad getting coffee, had no idea such a beauty would be around here but like fuck- got her number.” He giggled like a schoolgirl, bringing a coffee over to San.

San grinned up at him. “You do seem to work fast but I’ll pass on the coffee. Got one already.” He motioned over towards you, Mito turning to finally notice your presence.

Seriously, what was with you and wanting to fuck your coworkers?

“How’d you get one- OH!” It was with great amusement, and perhaps dismay, that he dropped the hot beverage when he realized you were right there in the room. San was quick, catching it mid-air and cursing as he set it aside. “Holy fuck what is my luck today? This is that new job huh?”

Now you weren’t so sure you would take him up on his offer of after-work pleasure; not that you didn’t find him attractive just that you were attempting to draw a line. The whole reason you really hadn’t taken it past flirting with San; he was a co-worker.

“Hi there again, Mito. I take it you would be the famed Jung Wooyoung?” With a light laugh, you waved, attempting civility.

“You two know each other?” Mingi grumbled, leaning in as if this was juicy gossip. He wasn’t the only one, even Jongho had stopped cleaning the barrel of his gun to glance at the still-shocked detective.

Wooyoung recovered quickly, cheeky grin back. “The hottie whose number I got- was hers. Mmm, I get to see you in the office too? Damn- wait, how the fuck had no one told me we have a drop dead gorgeous Goddess as part of our unit now?” He swiveled on the others.

“Didn’t think it was relevant.” San bristled, glancing over at you and the coffee you brought. “Plus you were undercover.”

“Undercover?” Wooyoung asked in obvious confusion. “She doesn’t know how we do things does she?”

Something about the way he said it piqued your interest. You already questioned some things they did here, writing it off as part of the job and necessary: Like Mingi’s constant fucking, how bad the fights were with San, and how deep of an undercover this new detective had to be to have the same influence as Hwon- a known freelancer in the underbelly of the city. That seemed like a pretty solid reputation that would require some years, and better product than just one fighter to get.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “They set the bar pretty low, I'm sure you’ll be fine. Already making a better impression than most of them in the full two weeks I’ve been here.” You shrugged off his advances, turning to finish making San’s coffee which you just now realized you knew by heart… after barely a week.

So why did he act as if being undercover was news to him?

Before you could question him, Captain came in with Seonghwa right behind him. “She’s still in a trial run Wooyo, calm yourself. We were also waiting until you got back to see about field work…” The look he shared with his vice didn’t go unnoticed, not when you were on edge, observing every little tick between the seven of them.

“Oh so she gets to work with me now? Fucking sweet.” Cheering a little, he turned back to you with a wide grin. “So beautiful, I know I can’t compare to some of these fine gentlemen but I promise to treat you good- in the field and out of it.” With a wink he made his way over to you, more flirtatious than he had been back at the cafe. Which would have been nice if you weren’t actively fighting off attraction now.

Fuck.

Wooyoung whistled next to you. “Man were they that disappointing in bed? Wow their game must have dropped considerably. I can make it better for ya.”

Mingi and Yunho both looked up at his comment, stopping the little conversation they were having, just as you glanced up at him. “If you’re implying I slept with any of them, no. Aside from mostly San, they were more ready to kick my ass to the curb.”

You took a second to glance around the room, noticing that Yeosang had joined in and was grabbing a coffee from the few that Wooyoung brought. Seonghwa looked much more stressed than normal and even Hongjoong seemed a little ticked off, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Jongho had gone back to cleaning his gun but there was an ever present smirk on his face while Yunho seemed to be enjoying the chaos unfolding. Mingi’s reaction struck you as the oddest, as he almost appeared as panicked as San did.

“WHAT?!” The holy shriek he let out had you flinching, but he was already turning to the others. “You are telling me that you have been gazing on this fine fucking beauty for two whole fucking weeks and none of you have even gotten a taste? Shameful. All of you are absolutely shameful.” He tsked dramatically, taking in the view as you brought San his coffee. “Not even you Sannie?”

“Not all of us think with our dicks-”

“Mingi does- Fuck not even Mingi fucking Malik had a taste? Ya’ll trippin. Where does she even sit? Was she at my desk? Please say yes-”

“Receptionist.” Seonghwa finally stepped into the conversation, fixing Wooyoung with a glare while Hongjoong was giggling under his breath behind him. “Wooyoung, can you please quiet it? It’s Monday-”

He was broken off by Wooyoung’s flabbergasted gasp. “Up front alone? Damn they really gave you the cold shoulder. It’s okay, beautiful, Wooyoung is here now. Need a nice warm seat, my face is available- or dick. Wouldn’t mind being a step stool either.”

It seemed he would have ranted more if San hadn’t ignored the coffee in your hand to reach out and grab the man’s jaw instead, squeezing it still. “Wooyoung- stop. Fucking stop. Do you think it’s nice to be talking about how you want to fuck our new addition to the unit in front of her?”

“No-” Wooyoung got out through the grip, glancing over at you as you watched with a lifted brow. “I really don’t get why you haven’t- yall fuck around a lot. And she’s beautiful.”

His constant praise was a bit touching, and a few things he said had been very tempting, but you were determined to keep it professional. “I don’t want to sleep with my unit members anyways.”

“Why not?”

“Complicates the job.” You admitted, finding yourself much more calmer despite the turn this morning had taken. Back to square one really.

Wooyoung scoffed, pulling out of San’s grip to look you right in the eye. “Can’t imagine how- or are you unaware that half the time we are on each other’s dicks? I mean Captain’s office is locked half the time because his pants are down and he’s having a grand ol’ time with-” His mouth was quickly covered by San who appeared panicked.

What the fuck were you missing?

“So what, you all fuck each other? In the office too?” You looked around for clarification but the only one who would look at you was Yunho and he just smirked wider.

San seemed even more panicked, glaring at Wooyoung only to be pushed back down on the desk. With his arm in the bind, he fell back. “See for yourself, beautiful.”

Out of all the things that you could expect, watching the new detective lock lips with San was definitely not on the list. Your mouth dropped open, eyes going wide as you tried to comprehend just what you were seeing.

You didn’t have time to process at all, Hongjoong calling out your name before he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your office. The only thought in your head was why were you getting pulled into the office?

Seriously… what the fuck.

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

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