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#I DID NOT. EXPECT THE STORY TO MAKE ME CRY
harstyle · 2 days
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the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
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I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 
“Of course.” 
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
192 notes · View notes
worldofkuro · 3 days
Note
Could you make a angst!reader x alastor story?
Prince Charming
Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader
Notes: Well, I hope you'll enjoy it because I sure did while writting it! Tw: Death. Tw: Mind Break. Tw: Blood
Thud
You stared at the blurry sky. Alastor always loved rainy nights like this, he always felt like he turned off the sound around and he could think clearer and be more in control. You had teased him, saying that you could easily destroy his concentration if you wished which made him laugh. You were his greatest weakness. You were his human heart. That's what he said during your wedding vows. He was human because you were next to him, because you were loving him. How could you not? He was your Prince Charming.
Thud
You looked weakly at the man above you who stabbed you once again. You couldn't scream or cry. You couldn’t feel any pain, you just felt.. Cold. You were sure that Alastor would feel so warm against your cold skin. He would hold you close to his chest and talk about his next broadcast’s topic. Sometimes you would ask him to bring up a specific topic you wished he would have deepened. 
Thud
You felt a tear streaming down your face. Were you going to die? Alone ? You turned your head to the side as the man took your purse and looked inside it. You were laying in a puddle of your own blood on.. grass? You tried to look around, there were so many trees… Oh yes, you took a walk in the forest near Alastor’s house, trying to give yourself some courage, before your husband’s return. You wanted to go where he had proposed to you but you didn’t expect to be followed and worse yet, you didn’t expect to be stabbed again, and again and again and again..
Will Alastor be okay? How was he going to react to your death? You husband wasn’t a violent man, always trying to talk things through, that's one of the reasons you have loved him. You didn’t want to close your eyes, afraid of not being able to open them ever again. You didn’t want your last living image being this man killing you. You wanted… Alastor.
“ Darling !”
You blinked, smiling softly. Now you could hear his voice. Maybe God sended an angel with his voice so you could go in peace. You could rest now…But not with the dreadful scream that echoed in the night.
You opened your eyes, that you didn’t even remember closing, and saw a man stabbing your assaulter. You wanted to lose your sense of hearing as the screams of the man were now cries of begging. You almost scoffed, he was pathetic. 
“ Darling, my love, mon coeur, look at me.” The man knelt next to you and then you recognized your husband, dirty in blood. You always told him that red suited him but seeing him covered in blood… Was it your blood? His?
“ Don’t do that to me, Love. Keep your eyes open, look at me.” he tried to stop your bleeding with his hands as he kissed the crown of your head. You giggled, you were right, his skin was so warm against yours. Now you could let go. Now you could say goodbye… You wanted to say goodbye.
Please God..
“ A…Last…”
“ At last ? What do you mean my Love?” he chuckled nervously, tearing his shirt to stop the bleeding. You almost chuckled, it was the first time you saw Alastor so out of control. You were almost sad to not be able to see more of it.
“ Alas…tor..” you bring your hand weakly toward his face, wiping blood off from his face. “ Kiss…Me…” you coughed blood, tilting your head to the side to spat the red liquid from your mouth. You wheezed as your vision was beginning to darken.
“ Darling, Look at me !” he took your face between his hands and kissed you like a starved man. You were surprised , you expected a cute peck on your lips, after all you had blood all over yourself, but Alastor was pressing his tongue against yours, like he wanted to devour you, to eat you,to consume you,  to be the final thing you would feel before leaving. You kissed him back weakly as you felt yourself not being able to breathe anymore.
You weren’t scared anymore, you would not die alone but in the arms of your Prince Charming and with the baby you were expecting.
He stepped back as he watched your body sink in his arms.  He stared at your face, blood looked good on you but he needed to bring you home to clean you. You wouldn’t like to wake up with blood all over the bedsheets. His sweet Angel.
His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.
He put his head against your bloody chest, waiting to hear your familiar heartbeat but he didn’t hear anything.
How odd.
“ Darling… My Love, look at me.” he stared at your face, waiting for you to open your eyes, tell him that everything was going to be okay.  His smile widened as he grabbed his hair, pulling it without noticing.
His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.
“ Are you … sleeping my Love?” he asked, tilting his head toward your face. No answer. Mhn… He knew you liked fairytales, sometimes you would not open your eyes in the morning until he kissed you like some kind of Prince Charming. He didn’t like the idea, he wasn’t nice like this but seeing the love in your eyes each time he put up this act was worth it.
He leaned toward you and kissed your lips and then looked at you. He pressed his ears against your chest.
His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.
Mhn… So, God decided to punish him for his crime of killing by taking you away from him. God took his angel back. He began to chuckle but then he laughed maniacally, his head tilted back, his smile wide.
You were his. You were his heart. You were what made him human. He did kill, hiding this side of his personality to you. He wanted to protect you, there were so many maniacs here. Just like the man who took your life.  
But with you gone… He couldn’t feel anything. He wasn’t human anymore.
He smiled as he held you in his arms. He stroked your cheeks lovingly.
His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.
“ Don’t worry Darling, they won’t kill me. How could you kill someone without a heart, mhn? I’ll avenge us my dear.”
He would become the devil that would paint New Orleans in red. He will kill them, the one who took his sweet darling from him. His chest was empty, not heart beating the only thing left working was his mad mind, already looking for a way to kill his next victims. And well, if you wanted to stop him?
Don’t throw away your shot.
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The Healer pt 3
The story continues! Hope you guys like it!
Part 1 and 2 linked here.
Enjoy!
_____________________________
The Hero’s party stood with their backs to us, arguing loudly. They obviously didn’t hear Stephanie’s call, and kept their focus on the man in front of them.
“How dare you go back on our deal?!” Jack the Hero snapped, his face twisted with rage. “You have always been our chief supplier!”
Rita the Holy Archer spoke up, flipping her long blond hair over her shoulder as she did so. “Yeah, you never turned us down before!”
The massive and imposing form of Garrett the Giant loomed over the group as he stood by with his arms crossed, nodding in agreement. The fourth and final member, Rebecca the Sorceress, leaned against the Hero, her eyes filled with tears as if everyone in the room had personally wronged her.
Seeing the group together again was… rough, to say the least. I had once considered three of them, Jack, Rita and Garrett,  my closest friends. We had played the game together before the Downfall, spending late nights going on raids and completing quests. They had been the brightest part of a life that had been greatly overshadowed by my parents’ expectations and disapproval. I had valued their friendship, so much so that I was willing to break myself over and over again just to stay by their side. I had lied to myself, that I was just as much a part of the team as they were. That I was valued, even if they didn’t always say so. That I was lucky to have them, given that I had chosen the class I did. I hated myself for my weakness, but refused to leave, too dependent on them to try to break off on my own.   
Until Jack finally betrayed me enough to wake me up to the truth:
They had never been my friends.  
As for Rebecca… my gaze settled on the pitifully crying girl. She was crying when I met her, too.
______________________
“Healer! Help! I have an injured person here!” At Jack’s frantic cry, I forced myself awake and ran out of my house, surprised to see him carrying a young, beautiful woman. Her face was unnaturally pale, her red hair matted with blood, stuck to her forehead. Her clothing was scorched in several areas, making her seem even more pitiful. I paused for a moment, feeling a brief discomfort at the sight of Jack holding her with a tenderness in his eyes I had never seen before.
We were not a couple. He had hinted his interest several times, but we had agreed to wait until the world was more stable before discussing it deeply. I wasn’t sure of my own feelings, having always considered him a good friend, but I knew that in the midst of a life or death battle was probably not the best time to give a real answer. Jack hadn’t been happy with my response, but said he understood. He hadn’t brought it up again, but the sight of his distress for the woman in his arms made me wonder if I had his answer.
Either way, it was no time to work out my feelings on the matter. I pushed away the flash of unease at the two’s closeness and stepped forward to look at the young woman. She flinched away from my gaze, her teary eyes looking up at Jack.
“Don’t bother your friend! I just need a potion and I’ll be fine.”
Jack smiled at her. “Nonsense, you fainted just a minute ago. The Healer may be useless in a fight, but she can do targeted therapy for whatever injuries you have.”
I winced at the word “useless”, a term I was all too used to from my childhood.
“Wait!” Rather than being comforted, this seemed to distress the young man more. She struggled slightly, seeming unable to free herself from Jack’s hold. “I don’t…”
I lost patience, and reached out my hand, putting it on her forehead.
“Scan.”
**The Healer has activated Scan -20MP. Target is not in your party and some information is withheld.
Rebecca the Sorceress
Class –Magic User
Title – Sorceress, Magic Student, Dependent, Poison Master.
Level 56
HP 209/250
MP 280/300
STR ***
DEX ***
INT ***
WIS ***
CHAR ***
Current status: Charm applied + 50 Charisma – 1 hour remaining.
Healing status – mild abrasions to forehead, right elbow, and anterior thigh-  10 sq centimeters total surface area.  First degree burns – dorsum of foot, and right wrist – 5 square centimeters total surface area. Mild poison toxicity – side effects include pallor, diaphoresis and generalized weakness. – 10 minutes remaining. **
I frowned as I read through the information. Jack quickly began asking questions.
“How bad is it, Healer? Will she be all right? You can fix it, right?”
“Some scrapes and mild burns, no worse than a sunburn, just needs her wounds dressed and some ointment for pain and to prevent infection. How did she get poisoned?”
“Poisoned?” He brought her into my house and set her down on my bed. “She wasn’t poisoned, she was protecting a family from bandits.”
I shrugged, getting out supplies and carefully cleaning and dressing her injuries. “The scan says she was poisoned, probably about an hour ago judging by the remaining cooldown. Nothing bad, just something that would make her pale, sweaty and weak.”
Rebecca began crying loudly as I finished bandaging her. Before I could react, Jack pushed me out of the way, leaning over to check on her. I slammed by back into the dresser, groaning with pain as it struck.
“Did she hurt you?!” He asked Rebecca, frowning as he looked over her bandages. 
She blinked back tears, regaining control of herself. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried… The way she said it… it sounds like she’s accusing me of taking poison on purpose!”
I gingerly stood up, rubbing my back where it hit the dresser. “I didn’t mean to imply…”
“Shut up, Healer!” He laid a hand on Rebecca’s head. “Just ignore her. She’s just a burden our team carries around because we happened to know her before the Downfall.”
I closed my eyes at his words, trying to ignore both the physical and emotional pain.
______________________
“Why can’t you help us?!” Rebecca was sobbing, blinking her tear-filled eyes and staring at the man in front of their group. “Don’t you know we’re humanity’s only hope?”
“They’re our only hope?”Alton leaned in, whispering “We’re so doomed.”
Stephanie and I chuckled quietly in response.
The owner of the shop, Winter, stood silently in front of the Hero’s party. He was tall, although still shorter than Garrett the Giant. Somehow his demeanor made him seem to tower over the entire group. His white hair was cropped short, at odds with his younger appearing face, placing him in his late twenties. His eyes were a bright pale blue, his handsome feature marred only by a large scar tracing across his face, only barely missing his right eye. His face was expressionless, almost bored, unchanged by Rebecca’s tears.
“You seem to be having a bit of a misunderstanding.” Winter finally spoke up, his voice quiet and cold. “I never had a deal with YOU.”
“LIAR!” Jack screamed. “You’ve always…”
“I’ve had a deal with your healer.” He raised an eyebrow. “And she’s not with you anymore. So I have no reason to deal with you.”
“The Healer?” Rita laughed, her sharp features and gaze filled with a mocking light. “That useless baggage? Why would you care if she’s with us or not?”
“…” Winter stared at her silently, and seemingly pressured, Rita stepped back, hiding behind Garrett. “Foolish.”
“We’re foolish?” Jack asked, shaken but still angry. “You’re the one who is turning down the opportunity of a lifetime. Just because of some bit…”
SMACK!
Winter backhanded the Hero, sending him down to the floor with a calm expression.
“Close your foul mouth, or I’ll close it for you.”  He raised an eyebrow. “Any questions?”
Stephanie raised her hand. “Where do I sign up to be part of his fan club?” Alton raised his hand as well, nodding.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You never change., Winter”
At my words, Winter turned towards me, his cold blank expression melting into a bright smile.
“Natalie! You’re here!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Everyone in the room turned to stare at me. I shrunk back slightly. Alton spoke up first, frowning. “Natalie?”
I sighed. “My real name, or more accurately, my name before the Downfall. I don’t like using it anymore.” I don’t like the person who wore that name, nor the people who bestowed it upon me. “Healer is a much more accurate title.”
Alton smiled and shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, Miss Healer.”
Winter’s smile faded a bit, and he walked forward, stepping on the Hero as he did so, ignoring his grunt of pain.
“Are you okay? I just heard about the price on your head. Did they hurt you?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. You know that they couldn’t hurt me if they tried.”
“Anyone can get hurt if they get caught off guard, Nat.” He put a hand on my shoulder, staring into my eyes. “You should have left a long time ago. They didn’t deserve your loyalty.”
“Well, she’s got a new team now!” Alton stepped in excitedly.
“Yeah! We’re much better than those creeps!” Stephanie joined in. The two gave each other and me a thumbs up.
Winter stared at them for a while, before sighing. “I told you that you didn’t have to fight with anyone. Yet you still race towards danger at the side of these… people. What has humanity ever done for you?”
I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a soft sigh. “Not everyone is as terrible as you think.”
“That’s rich, considering what state you were in when we first met.” The disappointment in his eyes was clear. I flinched, trying not to think of the circumstances of our first meeting.
“That’s not…”
“STOP IGNORING ME!” Rebecca cried out, fire blazing at her fingertips as she glared at all of us. As we quieted down, she focused her gaze on Winter. “Why are you so obsessed with her? She’s a useless healer! We are the HERO’S PARTY!”
Winter stepped closer, and she shrank into Jack’s side, trying to get away, but froze when Winter’s gaze met hers. “You know nothing, poison witch. A Healer is a noble profession, only meant for the strongest of heart and mind. “
“Y-you…”
“Now get out of my store.” He pointed at the exit, and after a moment of silence, the hero’s party shuffled out. Jack paused at the doorway, looking at me with a serious expression. “My offer is still open. We will attack the forty second gate in 3 days. With or without you.”
And with that, he was gone, and all was quiet.
“What idiots.” Alton sat down on a nearby chair, frustrated. “They’re going to put all of humanity at risk.”
“No more than they deserve.” At Winter’s harsh tone, everyone turned to him again.
“You don’t like humans?” Alton asked.
“Any reason why I should?”
He pointed at me. “Miss Healer is a human.”
“The exception, not the rule.”
I shook my head at his solemn reply. “We came here for supplies. Can you help us?”
“Of course.” He agreed immediately, pulling out a large bag from behind the counter and handing it straight to me. “On the house.”
“You know I’ll never agree to that.” I dropped some custom potions and gold on the table. “You have to stay in business.”
Winter shook his head, but I insisted. “Take it or I go somewhere else for supplies.”
“…Fine.” After a long hesitation, he finally reached out and took the items, carefully arranging them on the shelf on the back wall.
“…” Stephanie and Alton stared silently at the exchange between us.
“I smell drama!” Stephanie whispered loudly.
Alton nodded silently, frowning.
“Speaking of which, PREPARE TO BE AMAZED!” Stephanie stepped forward, dropping the pelts onto the counter. “BEHOLD! I HAVE COMPLETED MY QUEST!”
Winter looked over the wolf furs, nodding silently. “This is what I asked for.” His tone was unimpressed. Stephanie grinned, not intimidated.
“So you’ll pay me this time?”
“This time?” I turned to her. “How many times has he scammed you with fake quests?”
“They aren’t fake!” She defended, clutching the bag of gold he handed her. “He just has high standards.”
“Did you count your payment?”
“… I was about to.” She opened the sac of gold and muttered to herself, before staring accusingly at Winter. “It’s only half!”
“Because you didn’t get the pelts.” He inclined his head towards me. “I know Nat’s work when I see it.”
“I helped, though! I lured them all the way to her!”
“And I bet she asked for half.”
“How did you know?!” She paused. “I was going to give it to her.”
I sighed. “Just pay her the whole amount. Your deal was for the pelts, it doesn’t matter how she got them. If I want the cash, I’ll get it from her.”
“…”
“Besides, she’s my teammate…”
Stephanie jumped in. “AND BEST FRIEND!”
“…In a way it’s paying me.”
“…” He sat a second bag of gold down, which Stephanie snatched up and counted with glee. Winter ignored her, looking at me.
“You’re really doing this again? Trusting humans?”
I shook my head. “I don’t trust anyone.”
“You trust too much… you just pretend like you don’t to comfort yourself.” He thought things over. “Where are you going next?”
Alton joined in. “We’re going to go hunting in the fortieth level forest. Try to get a feel for our fighting style.”
“What about your fourth party member? Your team is incomplete.”
“Maybe we’re just picky?” Alton offered.
Winter stared at us. Stephanie broke first. “Everyone’s too scared to work with Alton, and they think Healer is a burden.”
“…”
“We don’t though! We think she’s awesome.”
Winter finally smiled at that. “Alright then.” He began packing a bag. “I’ll join your team.”
“AWESOME!”
“Is that even possible?”
“You’ll what?!”
Stephanie, Alton and I spoke up at the same time. Winter continued to pack, undisturbed by our shouts.
“You need a fourth teammate, and Nat needs someone to watch her back. It’s a win-win. ”
Alton stared at him. “Why do you think she needs your help?”
Winter didn’t flinch. “She needs it. Needed it since the beginning.”
After studying him a long moment, the dark wizard turned towards me. “It’s your call. I trust your judgement with this.”
I rubbed my forehead, feeling tired. “Why don’t we do a trial before making anything official? Go fight together. See how it goes from there.”
“… You don’t trust me?” Winter asked quietly.
“You’d have to be their teammates as well, fighting to protect humanity. I don’t see why you are volunteering. You’ve never cared before.” Was my equally quiet answer.
After a long moment of consideration, he nodded in agreement. “…Fine. A test mission first.”
“Wait!” Stephanie chimed in. “Can NPCs even join human parties? Aren’t they the ones who give quests?”
Winter placed his packed bag on his back, grabbing a bow and some arrows. “My kind are not a part of the Rules. We follow them, just like you do.”
“So you’re like us?” Alton asked, curious.
“No.” His tone was flat. “I am nothing like you humans. But I can join your party.”
“Great! Let’s go on an adventure!” Stephanie ran towards the door, and shaking my head, I followed her.
“Should be interesting.”
____________________________
The fortieth-floor forest was filled with death. Black twisted trees, grey, dried out grass. Shadows from nothing, movements that didn’t make sense. I stood in place, feeling the constant overwhelming sensation of being watched.
Alton smiled, seeming right at home. “Alright guys, this place is chocked full of undead, perfect for a good fight. We just need to get a sense for how everyone else works, and how to help each other.”
“Sounds good!” Stephanie pulled out her enormous sword and grinned. “I’ll tank!”
“Great. I’ll provide crowd control and protection through magic.” He turned towards Winter, who seemed relaxed despite the evil forest around him. “What about you?”
Winter held up his bow. “I’ll pick off monsters from the back.”
“Great. That just leaves Miss Healer…” He turned towards me. “How would you like to fight?”
His question caught me by surprise. When I fought with the Hero’s party, I had often supported them secretly, standing afar, silently using my healing magic to add further injuries to my teammate’s attacks. It was difficult, making myself appear useless while protecting and attacking at the same time.
But now… I was able to openly and honestly take part with the team.
I smiled. “I want to be in the front.”
Stephanie cheered. “Besties tanks!”
“Sounds like we have a plan.” Alton grinned, looking every inch the evil wizard. “Let’s go.”
It didn’t take long before we ran into a large group of undead. Zombies, skeletons, shadowy creatures with claws and spikes, crawled out between the trees, their eyes glowing red with hunger.
“Kill!” A gravelly voice came out of the large skeleton, staring at me. I walked forward calmly, no weapons in my hands.
Undead didn’t have blood. Didn’t have beating hearts. They needed no oxygen, absorbing their energy from the living. Which limited my options. I would have to go for attacks that caused physical damage.
Stephanie ran forward with a loud cry, swinging her large sword and decapitating the first zombie in her field of vision. Alton chanted, his spells separating the zombies out in smaller groups, hindering their movement and slowing their attacks. I could hear the buzzing of arrows as Winter calmly shot down enemy after enemy.
It was my turn.
I held a scalpel in my hand, the cool metal somewhat comforting against my skin. A group of ten zombies shuffled towards me, trying to shake off the bonds of Alton’s magic.
Wordless incantation was still in cooldown. I would have to speak out loud to activate my spells. I stepped closer to the group
“Amputation.”
**The Healer has cast Amputation x 10. – 1000 MP. **
My magic reached out to each of the zombies, chopping off each of their right legs at the mid-thigh, slicing cleanly through rotting muscle and bone. The zombies groaned in confusion, falling to the ground. I watched them carefully, recognizing they were still dangerous despite their helpless appearance.
This is when Jack or the others would rush in to claim the kill… and then complain about the automatic XP share since my magic contributed to the fight. But now that I don’t have them… what now?
Amputation was a spell that could only be applied to limbs. Small and large incision could cut their throats, but not enough to decapitate them which was what was needed.
A brief feeling of hopelessness rose up within me. The despair that had filled my days as I fought in this strange world beside others who had ridiculed me and belittled me. I chose a worthless class, one that struggles to put down wounded zombies…  
One of the zombies flipped onto its stomach, beginning to pull itself towards me, teeth bared. Simultaneously, a spell and an arrow hit its remaining leg, pinning it into place. Stephanie was still fighting her group of zombies, but seeing me hesitate shouted out: “Go get ‘em!”
They’re encouraging me. The stark contrast of this fight from my past team made me smile. I wanted to live up to the support of this strange new team. I thought of a plan, and I reached out my hand, focusing.
“Craniotomy.”
**The Healer has cast Craniotomy x 10. – 5,000 MP.**
The skulls cracked open, revealing rotting brains. I kept an eye on my numbers, even with my unusually large mana pool, I couldn’t keep spending so recklessly. I chose a smaller spell.
“Cauterization.”
**The Healer has cast Cauterization x 10. – 100MP.**
The tissue shriveled under the heat of the spell and the zombies grew completely still. As I stared down at the carnage, Stephanie killed her last zombie, prompting the end of the battle.
** Stephanie the Lovely Barbarian is credited with 8 zombie monster kills, awarded 600XP and +8 fame. Alton the Great Evil Wizard is credited for the assist and is awarded 200XP and +2 fame. You receive 8XP as a party member.
The Healer is credited with 10 zombie monster kills, awarded 800XP and +10 fame. Alton the Great Evil Wizard, and Winter the Shopkeeper are credited for the assist and awarded 100 XP and +1 fame each. **
“AWESOME!” Stephanie ran over and hugged me, ignoring my grimace as I realized how badly she smelled after close combat with rotting corpses. “We’re the best team ever! Did you see how fast we took out high level zombies?”
“Strong work everyone!” Alton seemed pleased, “A few more fights, and I think we could get a good rhythm going.”
“Here.” Winter held out a mana recovery potion to me. “Those were high level healer spells you cast today. You probably need this.”
After a brief hesitation I took it. “You recognize Healer spells?”
“Of course.” He spoke sincerely, adding. “It’s the greatest achievement one can have, to take such a path. I’m happy to help you.”
“…Thanks.” I drank the potion.
The Healer has used Potion of Mana Recovery, +800MP. 2 remaining in Inventory.
Stephanie stood in front of me, clasping her hands together with a pleading expression. “So… can we keep him? You said we could consider it after a trial!”
Alton and I exchanged glances. I still felt uneasy about having an “NPC” on our team. For all the time I had known Winter, I still did not understand his true motivations. Why was he in this world with us? Why join our team? And the real question that haunted me:
Why did he help me a year ago when he had no incentive to do so?
But the truth was, he was our best option.
I nodded to Alton, who immediately offered his hand to Winter.
“Welcome to the team.”
**Winter the Shopkeeper has accepted your invitation to join your party! He will have access to shared inventory, and his stats will become visible upon medical scan.**
The usual joining party message popped up, along with something unexpected:
** NOTICE - Due to status of new party member, special restrictions will apply to any stat or data sharing.**
Special restrictions? I shook my head. Not helping with my paranoia about trusting him on our team.
Stephanie cheered as I shook his hand after Alton. Finally, once things had calmed down, we all sat down to regroup.
“What next?” Stephanie asked, grabbing jerky from her pack.
I thought over her question. “The Hero’s party is going to attack the gate in 3 days. We should plan to be there.”
“Oh joy, them again.” Stephanie bit angrily into the jerky, as if hurting the people who annoyed her. "I can hardly contain my excitement."
“Fighting monsters, AND making sure the Hero’s party won’t stab us in the back at the same time?” Alton grinned. “Sounds like a party to me!"
I sighed, and grabbed my own food from my bag.
We had 3 days to get ready.
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natsmagi · 1 year
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happy 1yr anniversary to when the illness festered. i had no idea what i was getting myself into. To think it has been 1 year and im still this fucked up from it. love you wonder game
#i had been on a little switch story binge#i had read element and pleiades bc i saw ppl recommending them#but i had no idea that wonder game was significant at ALL#but i am the BIGGEST sucker for alice in wonderland. the 1951 animated movie was my favorite movie ever#and i would watch it CONSTANTLY when i was a kid#my earliest memories consisting of me just knowing how much i loved this film#and well anyway i remembered natsume had an alice card so i was like omg! i really should read that!!#and to get myself in the mood i even rewatched the 1951 film because i thought itd be a fun little refresher before i began reading#I DID NOT. EXPECT THE STORY TO MAKE ME CRY#AND I DID NOT EXPECT THE STORY TO MAKE ME A NATSUMUGIER#THIS STORY CAUSED IT ALL. IT RUINED ME. ALL BECAUSE I WANTED TO READ A SILLY LITTLE STORY WITH ELEMENTS BASED OFF#MY FIRST EVER SPECIAL INTEREST. ABSOLUTELY SICKENING#HAPPY 1 YEAR ANNIVERSARY BABE IM FUCKING RUINED FOREVER#nat rambles#i dont think u guys realize how deep my love for switch goes#bc like everything about them is a reminder of everything ive ever loved and found comfort in throughout my life#especially my younger years#they really do just bring me such unbelievable amounts of joy i almost feel undeserving to have something resonate this deeply with me#because thats how deep it goes#BUT ANYWAY#i cant show vulnerability online. Pretend i didnt say anything.#cant have people find out im a real person with real feelings with unique experiences in life that shaped the person you see before u today
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miallurk · 4 months
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In these days i realized i like art and writing and creating and shopping and taking walks and talking to people and cleaning and helping and studying and doing things but i'm just. too stressed, tired and burned out to do them. How great!
#i am losing my sanity day by day#drowning myself in the nearby lake seems better and better every day#why am i even writing this i have literally no mutuals or even people who'd care about#don't mind me crying myself to sleep haha#ooooh look at this pathetic baby. sitting in their little bed crying stupid tears. i should at least get tissues now while my crying isn't#fuck history fuck school and fuck me i quess#am i gonna start treating this as an actual blog and make a sideblog for reblogs? who knows! certainly not me; stay tuned for the story!#i'm gonna go and just let it all out into a pillow#vent ig#my mom is blasting holiday music in the other room lol#nice to have a whatever the fuck im having while “jingle bells” plays#at least i'm not hearing mariah carey ig#anyway i've probably hadn't been taking care of myself lately it has been worse despite me promoting it to everyone who needs#when i vented last time and it wasn't taken seriously so woop#anyway imma go try to calm myself and back to my notes i go#please gods what did i do to deserve thi s shit. fuck you#i hate it here i really do. i hate when these people talk to me i hate them. i at least can be sorta accquaitances with one but they just.#all stare and laugh? i actually can't. like i'm some fucking clown and laughing stock. just kill me at this point. i have been enduring this#for YEARS and suddenly i'm being a little bitch about it?? what the fuck. why am i so mushy all of a sudden. being shown an ounce of respect#and care made me expect it more? fuck#i'm just setting myself up for failure. i am just a giant loser and failure of a person.#everything seems so fucking hard. and pointless. i am tearing my rotten little heart apart with this. i am once again grieving things#long ago and things i never had. my everything has to be pleasing to an outsider#my value is my suffering. am i breaking enough? is this beautiful to look at#at my self destruction? i hate myself. i treat others so cruelly. i am a horrible fucking person.#my problems are not their burden - i forced it on them. wept like a baby because she left me. and what happened in the end? my paranoia got#to me. i left them. i fucking. i fid the thing i was afraid of being done to me.#this is showing so many issues.#so many things wrong with me. i shouldn't even be alive by this point - i wasn't supposed to survive past 12#i am being forced to do this every day. someone please just end my fu king suffering
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belmeran · 1 year
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i tend to write creepier things like gore but then draw fluffy things like kissing and i want to combine them i just gotta figure out how
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thedevotionaltour · 19 days
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thinking about daredevil yellow again im not. going to make it Guys.
#static.soundz#crying screaming and hitting the ground. so good. it made me cry really bad#bc whenever i think about jack n matt it always makes me think of me n my dad for various reasons#when matt said i couldnt feel his heartbeat inside me anymore. no words.#i rambled about it on my main but dd is very much intwined in an interesting and special way with my own heavy grief about my dad#and matt was a very important character to me during that time of my life for the exact same reason.#it's why i take a lot of very heavy issue when things try to make it so his dad died in his childhood as opposed to college#bc a) think it takes away a lot of the important nature of their relationship and b) my own personal projection#bc all grief at any stage is highly personal and unique and particular#but it really does feel like. matt is really just starting to become an adult (depending whether he dies when matt's in under or post grad)#(bc i can never remember which) but he's not quite a mega established one. there's still that lingering of childhood#so even though he's grown. it just hurts in a very particular way. they saw you grow up. but they didnt really see you become an adult.#they did not see the person you're going to be. that you are. that you're becoming. it feels like such a bizarre unfair moment in time.#bc why now? why not when i was younger? why not when i was truly an adult adult who is expecting to lose you now?#why at this moment and no other time?#but thinking about matt going i wish i told my dad how much i loved him.#more than anything when he goes 'i love you dad. did you hear? i love you.'#it made me cry like a fucking bitch. honest to god tearing up when i type about it. it wrenches my heart it twists it and it makes me wanna#drop to my knees and just weep and weep and weep. they are everything to me.#i have intertwined a lot of matt's grief with mine in a way that makes him so so so important to me. because as stupid as it fucking sounds#that comic and him as a character are everything to me. so genuinely. they were a lifeline my freshman year#when i was so depressed all i could do was read comics. or listen to music#i could do nothing else. i did. clearly. i did work and assignments. but dd was everything to me alongside dm#im sorry i am being an actual like nutbag in my tags im sorry i just have a lot of feelings. this story is everything to me ever ok? ok.
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'gray' made me cry laughing earlier. big, painful tears, too.
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torgawl · 1 year
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this phrase by richard siken is so dehya coded i wanna scream
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naisaa · 7 months
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okay i. didnt expect you are so not invited to my bat mitzvah to actually make me cry real tears. ???? the adam sandler teen comedy movie??? was good???? and genuinely funny??? and made me so emotional?????
idk maybe im surprised bc the last time i watched an adam sandler movie was in like 2012 and i never rly liked any of them. and with this one Some of the humor and over-the-topness was a toned down version of the same type of not rly my thing... but i liked and felt for the characters and the overall tone was so. charming?
i feel like if i was a teen i'd've haaated this movie bc of how it portrays teens. like i assumed the 'ha ha look at the silly slang and behaviors of Kids These Days amiright' would start to annoy me v quickly at the start of the movie... and i do think there were a FEW moments of it being like that. but overall i was so surprised that it just felt very loving, more like lighthearted teasing. i'm sure it'll grate on actual teens anyways (and fair enough) but as an adult the more remarkable thing was rly the palpable empathy.
'look i dont understand all of this and think a lot of it is silly or even worrying and i will make fun of it a little bit, but i can see you're struggling and i care and feel for you regardless.' like. im not even a parent but that was the vibe of the whole movie and it was. genuinely rly touching. and i did not EXPECT THAT
#you are so not invited to my bat mitzvah#i just. did not expect this movie to be what it is or for this type of story to make me FEEL THINGS#it looks like a movie id roll my eyes at bc of the schmaltzy teen drama romcom-ish tropes but??#it just felt earnest and that made it work for me#the no spoilers big thing at the end...#listen i dont normally cry during movies and when i do its like a singular tear. So When I Tell You I Was Sobbing#also sarah shermans character and entire wardrobe was a delight. bless.#N ALSO. im not jewish but currently trying to learn more abt it so idk how to put this but. i just rly liked? the jewishness of it all? :D#the setting just being like everyone here is jewish just roll w it but we do have one (1) model minority token christian kid was so funny#the fight between stacy and her dad sdkjfhfkjgdf#THATS WHY WE FOUGHT THE NAZIS?1 SO YOU COULD HAVE A MOJITO BAR?!!#pls i was on the floor#but also the only religion im personally familiar with is christianity and im so like. intrigued by how different the approach feels to me#idk why but i never feel particularly comfortable hearing christians talk about god and religious concepts#and to my surprise i dont have that at all hearing jewish ppl talk abt it?#like to bring it back to this movie. there was obv a LOT of talking abt that but instead of alienating me it feels more like#oh wow i can listen and engage with those topics without clenching my whole body for once?#and even discover that i LIKE a lot of the concepts and approaches#maybe its the absence of personal baggage? but also i just think its neat dot meme im INTERESTED i wanna know more#much to think about much to learn u__u anyway go watch it its on netflix
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camptw1nk · 11 months
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1x05 was wild icb i cried at the end of an episode that featured exploding cannisters of bull jizz
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ilovethecolorpink · 2 years
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i am so deeply invested in the taylor jenkins reid literary universe because i smile every time a character from one book is mentioned in another
#reading malibu rising. probably the book ive been most excited to read in a WHILE#because i feel like i havent been INVESTED in a book in awhile#well i read far from the tree by robin benway a few weeks ago and was pretty invested in that#but ya idk i just needed something i knew would make me excited to read#something with a STORY u know#i feel like i haven’t updated yall on my reading in forever#after it i read far from the tree and loved it (Cried sooo much too)#then i read the jungle by upton sinclar and was surprised by how much i liked it and how diff it was from what i expected#oh during all this time i was listening to educated by tara westover which was just spectacular and i loved it#truly have such high praise for it like i wanna find a physical copy so i can annotate it and just be able to display it on my shelf#which the other other audiobook ive ever wanted to do the same for was know my name (one of my top books of 2021) so.. that says it all!#then i read nine perfect strangers by liane moriarty which was just fine#my least fav from the 3 ive read tho the only one to make me cry?? the end was sweet idk#idk it was slow to start and i found most of the characters annoying but not annoying enough to dislike fjjejxwkd#actually i also did laugh out loud a couple times too but STILL idk it just wasnt giving what i needed it to give#i need to stop chasing the rush from big little lies she gave me#ok and now on audio i’m reading#the five: the untold lives of the women killed by jack the ripper by hallie rubenhold#liking it so far tho sometimes i find it hard to pay attention#and ive just recently started both notes on a native son by james baldwin and malibu rising by tjr#like less than 30 pages into both 😭#my reading this summer has been very blah but im hoping to turn that around soon#mine#reading
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bat-the-misfit · 4 months
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it took me so many years to get out of depression but to fall again into it only took me a little time... why am i even alive lol
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thewriterg · 7 months
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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰
pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family
summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—
word count; 900+
warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language
playlist; nothings new by rio romeo
A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race
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Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now
The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight
Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body
“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms
“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way
“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body
“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you
When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek
“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are
“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had
He’d glue all your broke pieces back together
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©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons
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bth3cowboi · 28 days
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paint me in lovely red, mv1xreader
masterlist
pairing: max verstappen x artist!reader
summary: a tiny slip can make your most beautiful secrets public. Sometimes the slip comes in the form of a painting, sometimes the secret is a relationship with a world champion.
format: social media au
a/n: all paintings used here were made by Malcolm Liepke! Part 1/?
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( instagram )
verstappen1updates
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liked by fanuser and 500,233 others
verstappen1updates Max just admitted that he’s in a relationship on stream! Transcript of the clip for those asking:
G: Max, they’re asking about the new painting in the background. I haven’t seen it before either.
M: Ah yes, that was a gift for the championship win from- [Stops to keep driving]. Well, my girlfriend really.
G: [Laughs] That’s cute, she’s great at painting. Oh- they’re surprised now- [Laughs] about your girl.
M: Ah- We just like to keep to ourselves, mate.
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user1 YO WHAT???
user2 and just like that we’ve lost him🥲
user3 u don’t know that man
user2 a girl can dream…
user4 sooo whos the girl?? I want to know noww
user5 a whole picture of his winning car??? she must be HOOKED
user6 after that season i cant blame her
( twitter )
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( instagram )
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername Spring is coming so new prints are out on my online shop!! Make sure to check them out💛🧡🍋
From the vault: “my yellow mirror II”, oil on canvas, 18x24. Also: my bike, me.
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user1 I just came expecting more Max honestly
user2 SAME
user3 the only thing interesting on this page
user4 ok seeing her now I get why Max let her paint him like that😂 shes cute
user5 paint me like one of your french girls- max, probably
yourfriend beautiful as always Yn🥹🫶 only focus on that
liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1
yourusername thanks bby🫶
user6 oh girl stop being so dramaticcc
user7 drop the painting of the car instead, this is boring
user8 i get it know, date rich so you can afford to do your silly paintings🤯
maxverstappen1 just lovely
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comments on this post have been disabled
( messages )
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( instagram )
inthef1paddock
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liked by fanuser and 876.334 others
inthef1paddock Max Verstappen and girlfriend Yn Ln caught together after she arrived to Melbourne for the Australian GP.
The driver had to ask through his instagram stories for fans to respect their privacy and Yn’s career after people flooded her social media with disrepectful comments, he did so by posting this selfie.
Mean comments will be deleted.❤️
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user1 People are so rude, its obvious they love each other
user2 Oh that hug🥹 what a lucky girl
user3 Did you see the video? He RAN to her, shes blessed
user4 idk she still seems weird…
lando.jpg
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 698.442 others
lando.jpg 🇦🇺 nights
tagged charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1 and yourusername;
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user1 last photo made me SCREAM, MAX???
user2 Lando is so crazy for this lol
user3 From Charles dropping it low to a hard launch he knows his public
charles_leclerc 😎😎
yourusername 🕺🕺📸📸
charles_leclerc You mean 💋💋📸📸?
maxverstappen1 Lando wont post those because he is lonely and he will cry
landonorris mate thats not true
yourusername its ok to be single lando we dont care you cried to our happy photos
landonorris I did NOT cry 🤢 you guys made me sickkkkk
charles_leclerc sick to tears
maxverstappen1 😂😂
landonorris Stoppp
landonorris Dont know what its worse, the kissy photos or the porn paintings
yourusername not porn🖕
maxverstappen1 Dont be rude🖕
yourusername I will paint you crying now idc you crybaby
landonorris Sure😂
charlesleclerc Famous last words
user4 its ok Lando I will take 💋 pictures with you
user5 me toooo, I volunteer 🤩
maxverstappen1 Please send me the rest of Yn’s photos👍
liked by landonorris and 5021 others
user6 oh wow i get lando now this is so sweet its sick😭
yourusername
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yourusername “Lando Norris, the crybaby”, oil on canvas, 24x30.
Prints will be available online soon🧡
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user1 Oh she ate this one up😭😭
landonorris NO YN
landonorris YN THIS IS SO MEAN
landonorris why would you do this😭😭 I didnt think you were serious
yourusername See, crybaby
carlossainz55 Dont worry Landito you dont look too bad
landonorris 😭😭😭
user3 LMFAO THIS IS SO FUNNY
user2 the devil work fast, but yn works faster
danielricciardo Jesus how much for this one, I will give ANYTHING
charlesleclerc No man ask for your own, this one is mine
maxverstappen1 This is not leaving my house👍 good luck
charles_leclerc WHAT? NOT FAIR, YN I WILL PAY TOO MUCH
danielricciardo Whatever he pays I will give double
yourusername Sorry its been bought already
charles_leclerc ???
mclaren Thank you Yn, this will look great in our hall 🧡🧡
yourusername 🧡🫶
landonorris WHAT
charles_leclerc oh my god
landonorris NO WAY
user4 SOLD TO MCLAREN? this is a fever dream
user5 I, too, want a portrait of me kissing max verstappen
user6 I respect Yn so much, cause she went from making tittie art of her bf to paint their friend crying while they makeout in the background
maxverstappen1 Lovely😂
maxverstappen1 Can I request one but without the crybaby?
yourusername I have a few already 🤔 whats one moree
user7 DROP THEM, I KNOW YOU HAVE THE HOT ONES TOO
charles_leclerc Dont drop them please think of the children
yourusername wow youre so boring
maxverstappen1 Make fun of him on a painting for that baby
danielricciardo I will pay for that one this time
charles_leclerc God no have mercy
yourusername dont worry i wont do that, being a ferrari driver is punishment enough
charles_leclerc 😐
landonorris LOL DESERVED
maxverstappen1 Love you my Yn❤️❤️
yourusername love you too🥹🥹
——
a/n: Thank you for reading!!! I might do a second part to this fic, I think there is so much more to do with the plot so if anyone is interesed make sure to stick around❤️🥹 My inbox is now open if anyone has suggestions or ideas they want to se me writw!
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screampied · 25 days
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saying “goodnight,” to gojo is one of the worst things you could ever tell him.
some may ask why . . it’s a simple word, a sweet farewell of good dreams if you will. but in this case, perhaps not. just a simple word, a simple word that always knew how to bring the strongest to complete tears.
“goodnight, ‘toru.” you’d murmur, swiftly running your hands through his white tangled strands. he was struggling to keep his eyes open. the calmness of your voice soothed him. cerulean irises stared right back into you before he lets off a soft sigh. his face was so relaxed, he stares into your eyes with his own becoming a bit droopy.
“goodnight,” he’d utter before his eyes briefly closes. “i love you.”
is what you thought he’d say in a moment like this. but even sometimes, reality can be faux. life’s pretty funny, isn’t it.
gojo didn’t like the word ‘goodbye’ simply because it brought back too many hard memories.
he wasn’t one to really explain why, he was more resvered sometimes than anything. he was often too embarrassed to get things off his chest. especially things like this, you did always wonder why though. how sometimes you’d kiss him on the cheek, reaching for the light before uttering off those fatal words of, “goodnight, satoru.”
despite everything though, he always gives you a soft kiss on the lips, murmuring, “sleep well, angel,” instead of goodnight. he’d hold you in his arms, stroking you gently until you fell fast asleep into his arms, where you always belonged.
why was goodnight such an avoidance to gojo’s vocabulary. it was simple, really. a bad experience, a very bad experience actually.
“i don’t like seeing you cry like that,” he’d grumble in a merely defeated voice. he sounded so different, so tired, so … weak. gojo’s voice, it was once so full of life and oh so effervescent. and now, it sounded like he was clinging onto his last and final conclusive breaths—in which he was. “hey, hey. look at me.”
you’d sniffle, glancing at gojo. your eyes were merely blind with your own pathetic tears, everything you saw through your own lens of eyesight was straight blurry. that dumb dorky smile remained plastered on his face despite the circumstances.
the circumstances, gojo satoru had been finally defeated. the strongest, considered as once the strongest, was now lying in your arms, squeezing your wrist as if it’d be the last time he’d touch you. and it would be.
“don’t cry for me. you’re gonna make me cry, silly,” he whispers in a jesting tone, brushing a thumb against the outer part of your hand. you always loved his touch, there was nothing like it. gojo actually for once seemed scared, he was always so good at concealing his emotions—but with you, that was an entire different story.
you could hear the tremble in his voice, his time was rapidly running out, and he just wanted to reassure you, even though perhaps you should have been reassuring him.
“s-satoru,” you’d reply in a shaky voice, you felt an abrupt sharp sting prod through your heart.
you didn’t expect to come to contact with the feeling of heartbreak so soon, but it hit you like a truck. you hated feeling powerless, you couldn’t do anything but just sit here and . . hold his hand.
one … last … time.
“you’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and he lifts up your hand, struggling at first. you’re kneeled down beside him as he lies on the floor. a pool of his own defeat starting to fill from underneath him before he kisses the palm of your hand. “i… i want you to promise me something though. can you do that, angel?”
“y-yes,” you immediately reply, your grip on his hand only growing tighter. suddenly, the air felt so thick and warm—everything felt so out of place. your ears, both of them rang and rang. there was a sting in your heart and it refused to go away. you were experiencing heartbreak at its finest, in slow slow waves.
gojo inhales, and you watch as his pretty lashes flutter at least twice before he says in the most broken, defeated voice you’ve ever heard.
“promise me,” he starts, and you watched as a tear ran down the corner of his eye. even he knew what his fate was coming to, everything was catching up to him and you were sharing the exact dreading emotion. gojo’s eyes flicker up towards you before he sniffles. “promise me, promise me that you’ll be here when i wake up?”
silence—pure silence was your reply, you didn’t know what to say.
but that pure silence only lasted for about three seconds before you nodded, feeling your own tears start to trickle out the crevices of your eyes. “i promise, i’ll be here, i’m always here, ‘toru,” and with a sob nearly escaping your lips, you whimper out a, “i love you.”
“i love you,” he replies with a cheeky grin, and by now he’s really clinging onto his final breaths.
all gojo could focus on was your face, the tears that swelled up through your eyes. he hated seeing you cry, he truly loathed it. with your fingers interlocked with his, gojo says in a soft broken tone, “goodnight, baby.”
“… goodnight, ‘toru.”
but instead of waking up next to gojo like promised, you woke up alone with his side of the bed empty. then reality hit you, he was already gone.
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