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#I’m really happy with how this turned out
nervoussagittarius · 2 days
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do you still have wisdom?
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matt sturniolo x reader
summary: in the midst of your wisdom teeth removal, your boyfriend and his brothers become your caregivers, request
warnings: fluffy, language, one suggestive comment, talk of needles and surgery,
the camera started rolling as you lethargically placed yourself in matt’s arms. today was the day you were getting your wisdom teeth removed and it was safe to say you were extremely nervous.
“tell everyone how you’re feeling y/n/n” nick said.
you lifted your head from matt’s chest and you replied, “i feel nervous about being put under anesthesia and i’m just really tired.” you felt matt footing shift slightly as he chucked.
matt moved from holding you to just wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “yeah so y/n didn’t really sleep last night, but you’ll have all the time to sleep tonight, okay?” you looked up at him and nodded with a small smile.
“so we’re going to go to the dentist and we’ll see you guys there.”
about an hour went by before you were sat in the chair, laying back, getting ready to receive your iv. you were not excited. you didn’t have a big fear of needles, you could tolerate them. it was the idea of the needle being in your arm for a long amount of time.
the three boys stood around you in a comforting manner. nick and matt stood to your right. nick filming while matt held your hand and soothingly ran his fingers through your hair. chris stood to your left paying attention to what the doctors were telling you guys.
“we’re going to put your iv in and it will give you the anesthesia so you’ll be out shortly after that. we’ll be in and out for the next couple minutes to see how you’re doing.” your doctor said as he started prepping your arm for the needle. you turned your head towards matt as he made goofy faces at you as a distraction.
“thank you.” you guys all stated as the doctor left your room. your eyes almost instantly started to become heavy and you felt sleep begin to take over.
the drowsiness became more prominent as the boys started to make jokes. “y/n, what kind of cup doesn’t hold liquid?” chris asked laughing. your eyes fluttered shut as you held a finger to your lips to shush him. “a cupcake.” chris finished making nobody laugh but himself.
you reached your arm up over your shoulder to gets matt’s attention. you blindly hit him and he looked down at you. “what’s up, love?” he asked.
“please ask chris to stop making jokes. i can’t focus on him right now.”
chris gave you an offended face as nick and matt broke out into a laughter. “you heard her chris, stop talking.” nick said almost in tears from laughing.
the doctor came back in just as you fell fully asleep. “okay y/n, we’re going to test your memory later. your password is grape.” you deliriously nodded in agreement. matt stayed by your side rubbing your shoulder for as long as he could before ultimately getting kicked out of the room.
the three boys stood in the hallway half focused on eachother and half focused on you. “how are you feeling matt?” chris asked, patting him on the shoulder and coming around to stand next to him. “i feel okay. i know how much pain she’s been in so i’m glad we’re getting that taken care of. i’m happy we’re all here to support her.”
the camera panned to you in the chair just as you started to lift your head slightly. you quickly side eyed the doctors as they readjusted you to leaning back.
a short time passed before all four of your wisdom teeth were extracted and your three best friends were allowed back in your room.
“how are you feeling y/n/n?” chris asked.
your were still a bit out of it and the gauze in your mouth slurred your words. “i’m cold.” was all that you got out. you were feeling emotional so when the three boys all looked at each other because they forgot your jacket in the car tears started to brim your eyes.
“awe sweetheart don’t cry we’ll figure it out. here you can have my long sleeve.” once you realized matt was next to you it was like your heart did a one eighty. “oh hi matt! i missed you!” you exclaimed lovingly as your words blended together.
“i appreciate the offer but i can’t put the shirt over my iv.” you said with a tiny frown. almost instantly chris started removing his zip-up and draped it over you. “hey! thanks chris.” you gave him a loopy smile.
“hey y/n, do you remember your password?” your doctor asked as he came back into the room to type on the computer. you instantly gave him, and the three brothers around you, a very confused look. “like for my phone?” you were extremely confused at this point and you couldn’t get much out of the three boys who were laughing their asses off. your doctor took over trying to explain. “we gave you a password that you were supposed to remember. do you?” you shook your head at him. “that’s okay we’re going to give you another on and if you remember then you can leave and go home. your password is ocean.”
“ocean, got it”
you thought for a second before speaking up again. “hey doc, how long until i can suck dick again?” nick and chris had officially lost it at this point. cracking up at the fact that you had no idea that your exposing all of your and matt’s secrets. matt only blushed and tried not to smile when you smiled up at him and grabbed his hand in yours. you tried to wink at him but it came out more as a delayed blink.
the doctor didn’t look shocked at all. you figured he’d been used to receiving this question. “you have to wait until your incisions heal. so a couple weeks.” and with that the doctor left the room again.
you looked at matt with a sorrowful face. “sorry matt.” you remorsefully said. trying to change the subject matt spoke up, “what’s the password, sweetheart?” you looked at him lovingly. “you’re pretty.” you said reaching you hand up to rest on his cheek.
“thanks baby.”
“hey, between me and nick whose your favorite?” asked chris as he poked your shoulder in an annoying but excited manner. you looked at him, then at nick, and then back to matt. you looked straight into the camera nick was holding before firmly stating, “i don’t have favorites.” chris rolled his eyes at you.
“and if i did have a favorite it would be matt, duh.” hearing this matt leaned down to kiss your forehead.
“y/n, what’s your password to go home.”
“um? lake?”
“ohhhh so close. it is a body of water. it was ocean.” chris cooed at you as he rubbed your shoulder.
“your new one is sushi.” “oh i love sushi.”
you reached up to rub your eyes forgetting that your were still connected to a couple of wires. “ow you mother fucker.” you commented looking down at you arms. “please kiss it.” you said lifting your arm up to chris since he was closest to your iv.
“listen kid, i love ya but i’m not kissing your arm.”
“that’s so fucked up. i’d do it for you.” you complained. hesitantly, chris leaned down to place the lightest peck possible to your arm. “thank you. matt, i love you” you quickly changed the subject. he was caught off guard at your sudden outburst. “i love you too, y/n”
“nick, chris, i love you guys too.” “we love you y/n.” “love ya y/n/n.”
the doctor made his way back to the room to see that your medicine was all injected through your veins. and started to take your iv out. “do you remember the password to go home, y/n?”
“yep it’s sushi.” you said as you kept your eyes on matt to avoid noticing the needle coming out of your arm. he ran his hand up and down your arm to comfort you. “that’s right.” nick said patting your leg to congratulate you on remembering.
the doctor got a wheelchair to take you to the car. when you made it to the parking garage matt helped you into the passenger seat and gently kissed your cheek letting you know he had to go get the parking pass.
you leaned back in your chair and sighed contently. “i just love him so much. he’s so perfect and babygirl.” nick and chris laughed as matt came back to the car.
you held your teeth to the camera showing them the container. “i have to put my teeth under my pillow so the tooth fairy brings me money.”
“you’re bloody teeth are not going anywhere near my bed.” “our bed.”
the video ended shortly after that with you grabbing matt’s hand and telling the viewers to enjoy the video while you enjoyed the dominic fike album chris put on for you.
comments:
i love how flirty y/n is in anesthesia
matt was so boyf in this video
y/n is right matt is babygirl
chris is such a little brother it’s unreal
nick is really giving us the content we need
an: this is all i’ve been thinking about for the past day. also i started a tag list so go comment on it if you want added 🤍
taglist: @norr1ssturni0lo @recklessmatt
tags for this post: @thetriplets3 @mazzystar111
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gi4hao · 1 day
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💋 ˎˊ- you ask to leave lipstick stains on their face
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-> ot13! fluff, 1 mention of making out in hoshi’s, mention of kissing dino’s neck :> (also not proofread yet bc i’m too lazy)
-> reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3
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— seungcheol
although he’s a bit confused by the question, he’s more down for it than he’ll ever admit. he insists on keeping your phone in his hand to take pictures, which he’ll definitely add as a widget among your apps. it’s hard for him to stay still while you kiss his face tho, because he’s used to immediately kissing you back… which he eventually does once his face is full of reddish stains.
— jeonghan
he’ll giggle his way through it, that’s for sure. head resting on your lap, he makes it hard to get precise stains because he can’t stop squirming after every kiss. still, he looks very happy with the end result as he admires himself in the mirror. “i’ve never looked better,” he beams before kissing your lips, transferring some of the lipstick on his, “can i do it to you?”. and so begins round 2, during which he’s just as giggly.
— joshua
100% okay with it, and he’ll stay surprisingly still during the process. a patient smile on his lips, he keeps his eyes closed while you pepper his face with kisses. “i feel like a canvas,” he says, “it’s pretty nice. mostly because the painter is really hot”. you playfully hit his shoulder, because he knows how much this kind of remarks fluster you. “well you’re a really hot canvas too,” you add, hands on his jaw to plant a comically loud kiss on his lips.
— jun
another giggler, obviously. he acts as if it’s the first time your lips touch his face, making him feel almost ticklish. and just seeing him grinning from ear to ear makes you sort of forget about your initial plan: long story short, the stains mostly end up on his mouth. “it’s a look!” he says, looking at his reflection in his phone before putting it down to kiss you again, “will definitely want to recreate it again…”
— hoshi
he says he’d let you do whatever you want, yet he can’t help but ask “how does it look?” after every. single. kiss. and he looks so proud when you finally show him the end result. he thinks it looks kind of hot (and he’s not wrong about that). actually, there’s no guarantee he won’t turn this wholesome activity into a makeout session… the stains are already showing that he’s obsessed with you, why not continue down this road?
— wonwoo
his cheeks have never flushed so quickly before. you wanting to leave lipsticks stains on his face is kind of like… you trying to claim him as your boyfriend… and he kind of loves it… so yes, he would hold his glasses in his hands and just pray that you don’t tease him too much about the pink shade on his cheeks. “you’re awfully silent,” you playfully remark between two kisses. “well, you know… just trying not to lose my mind,” he replies, carefully looking away.
— woozi
at first you think he accepts just to make you happy… but you notice he’s actually really into it; like when he offers to reapply the lipstick himself after the first few kisses. and he does it very carefully, tongue sticking out as he follows the natural curves of your lips. “are you in love with me or something?” you tease him with a fake frown. letting out a sigh, he gazes at you with a serious expression: “my cheeks are covered in the shape of your lips… i’m madly in love with you.”
— dokyeom
he’s shocked you even asked for his permission, because this man is always down for kisses, no matter the reason for them. also, he thinks lipstick looks really sexy on you but that’s besides the point… his heart does a little jump when he sees you being extra careful before kissing the mole on his cheek, because you want to make sure this stain is the most perfect one. “can i take a picture? it’s for my lockscreen,” you ask, and he swears his heart is about to burst. “you can do whatever makes you happy, my love.”
— mingyu
for you, he’s a living doll. it’s very rare for him not to be on board with something, so naturally he will also say yes to that. and seeing how gorgeous these stains look on his tanned skin only feeds your mind with further ideas. “wait… i want to do something else,” you say, readjusting your position until his forearm is at your lips’ reach. he burst out laughing when he feels your lips crash against his bicep. “now i’ve claimed your pretty face and your pretty muscles,” you happily state, before letting out a squeal as he pulls you closer. “you’ve claimed all of me a long time ago, beautiful”.
— minghao
yeah, sure! why not! but he’d want to take it up a notch and make it artsier. “can you leave some here as well?,” he asks you, pointing at the collar of his white shirt, “i’ll go over the stains with some fabric paint later”. so you do as told, because nothing make you feel as loved as minghao considering you his muse. “perfect,” he nods when you show him the end result, which makes you feel even more flustered, “that way you’ll always be with me. and that’s all i could ever ask for,” he smiles, and you’re pretty sure now is a good time to finally give his lips some attention.
— seungkwan
he is so down for it he could even go grocery shopping with those stains on his face. in fact, he seems to enjoy it so much that you get a little carried away. “i thought you meant about ten kisses… not ten thousands,” he teases, looking at his reflection in the mirror. most of his face is covered in lipstick, but the softness of his skin is the only one to blame. “forgive me for loving my boyfriend too much…” you playfully roll your eyes, which prompts seungkwan to trap you in his arms and give you a taste of your own medicine, leaving so many kisses on your face you can barely think straight.
— vernon
it’s not the first time you ask him to partake in something you saw on social media, he’s more than used to it. “peak boyfriend activity,” he states as he leans back against the couch, lovingly watching you apply the lipstick. he tries his best to keep a straight face during your kisses, but there are a few chuckles he can’t hold back, simply because it makes him so giddy. “i just know this will be my new contact picture…” he says when you’re done. as you take your phone out of your pocket, you correct him: “actually… this is going in the groupchat”.
— dino
oh he would be so smug about it. “i’m all yours,” he tells you, his own lips puckered to make sure you won’t forget to kiss them too. “this is as close as i’ve ever been to happiness” he adds when you’re done, with a (slightly exaggerated) peaceful sigh, “kissed, marked by my lover’s lips, and seconds away from asking if you can leave some on my neck as well…”. you look at him with crossed arms and amused eyes, but you both know you’ll end up doing it right away, especially when he’s looking so, so handsome right now.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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le-poofe · 1 day
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Finally~
I wanted to make a little something to say "Thank you for reading" to cap off WYS! Excuse me while I get mushy for a second-
Y’all are the reason this was able to get done. Your enthusiasm for updates and how the story unfolded really means so much to me. It was the little things that kept me motivated, even during the long hiatus. Seeing you guys pick up and point out little details sprinkled throughout the comic always made my day and gave me a sense of validation. Reactions to things like the surprise of Sans’ nightmare or Grillby’s comfort all made me super happy. And you guys gave the finale pages the sweetest reception I could ask for. l'm so grateful that you stuck around for the whole thing!
Overall, I’m very pleased with how this turned out! Interestingly, the main thing I’d want to change if given the chance is how I wrote Sans and Grillby themselves. Especially Sans’ dialogue. My characterization of them has changed quite a bit over the years (hard to tell bc I don’t draw them a lot atm). But that can’t really be helped. Just like the way that my art style changed over time. Hindsight does that stuff all the time. Nitpicking aside, I stand by the creative decisions made by 2019 Me
The funny part is that the original comic was 17 pages and I got them all done before hand so I wouldn't run into the issue of falling into a hiatus between pages!!! If y'all are interested in a bts post, I’ll try to dig up those og pages from my old computer. And maybe I'll show the even rougher epilogue draft I threw together for shits and giggles to see if I could get the page count to 69
Sansby has already been super special to me for a long time, finally getting this done and seeing the response strengthened that. I’ve had so many people find me through WYS over the years, it blows my mind. The messages from people who hold it dear really means the world! Without you guys this comic wouldn’t be what it is now. Thanks for Staying~
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arieslost · 9 hours
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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
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word count: 860
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo
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jjunae · 2 days
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NYC ⸺ sjy
❔ spiderman pays you a visit 〡 spiderman!jake x fmr warnings! lil implications of skinship, swearing ( LIBRARY )
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‘are you upset?’
‘no, of course not. do i look upset?’ you asked, teeth grit, while you aggressively flipped through the pages of your book, hardly bothered to spare a glance towards his direction.
‘i don't know. pretty, can you look at me?’ jake pleaded, and you closed the textbook shut, eyes flitting towards the window. he was always there, in his red and blue, web-themed suit. you’d, eventually, grown a habit of leaving it open, just for him. 
‘don’t call me that.’
‘i knew you were mad. i promise, i'm not hurt,’ he said, his hand reaching to pull the mask off his face. you instantly jumped off your bed, scrambling over to him, to drag him inside your room. you slammed the shutters down, before turning to face him. 
‘are you fucking stupid? i’ve told you a million times! don’t pull it off, even if you’re just out my window,’ you snapped. it was evident you were irritable.  
‘sorry,’ he muttered, while he flung the cloth away. 
‘don’t throw your shit around my room,’ you grumbled, while he bent over to pick up the mask off your floor, quietly mouthing a “sorry”, yet again. 
you looked him up and down, your eyes scanning every inch of his body. he had a bloodied lip, and a couple of scrapes and cuts. not too much, you thought, while pulling out the first-aid box you’d kept for him. 
‘sit,’ you instructed, and so he did. he knew exactly where to sit; he’d been in this room at least a million times, for this very reason.  
‘i’m sorry,’ he started, causing you to furrow your brows. 
‘i really am. i didn’t mean to stand you up, something was happening down at oscorp, and you know jay works there, so i-’
‘wait. you think i’m upset because you stood me up?’ you cut him off, with a tilt of your head. 
‘yeah? i know you’d got us reservations, and i’m so sorry. i know it meant a lot to you, so i’ll make it up to you,’ he swore, a hint of confusion seeping into his eyes. 
‘jake, i’m not upset about that. i know you have a duty to fulfill,’ you murmured, hand reaching to push back the sweaty strands of hair falling over his forehead, ‘it’s just, i’m always so worried. i know i’m being silly, but i’m scared for you. i don’t know what’s happening to you, or what you’re doing. is it so hard to tell me where you are?’ you asked, your voice slightly quivering. 
‘no, i don’t like calling you. what if someone traces your number through my call records? i don’t want your safety to be compromised, but i guess that doesn't make sense, yeah? i mean, you’re always exposed to danger, because you’re close to me,’ he finished, with an awkward chuckle. 
‘i chose to be with you, even though i knew about you being spiderman. it was my choice, so quit acting like a hero; like you’re responsible for me, all the damn time. i’m my own human,’ you spat, grabbing him by his cheeks, looking into his eyes.
a part of you knew, he could’ve stopped your hand if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he was trying to understand you, though it was hard for him. god, if only he knew how much you loved him. 
‘okay,’ he said, slowly. 
‘okay,’ you nodded, letting go of him, and you both maintained a comfortable silence, while you patched up his cuts. 
‘what about my kiss?’ he complained, after a pause. it was (another) habit you had, kissing him after you were done helping him out.  
‘you’ll get it. be patient, spider-boy.’  
and, patient he was. sim jaeyun returned home as a happy man, with pink-colored smudges imprinted on his cheeks.
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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!
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dazednmatthews · 1 day
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could you write stressed college gf headcanons for chris too 👉👈 matt's are so damn cute
chris x stressed college!gf headcanons:
-something about chris you’ve noticed since you’ve been together is that he has a habit of feeding off peoples energies, but possibly in the worst way
-so when finals come around and you’re an anxious, stressed mess, so is he
-and because of that, he’s constantly looking up the material you have to study and telling you random facts about it in hopes that it helps in anyway
-“hey babe,” he says while you sit as his computer desk, highlighting things in your notes. “yeah?” you say, not tearing your gaze away from your notebook. “did you know that 95% of the ocean is still unexplored?” you do glance at him that time, eyebrows furrowed. “yes i did. why do you mention it?” “well i’ve just been reading about marine science for a couple hours and that’s just fucking insane to me”
-it never really adds anything to your review, but it makes you smile regardless at how hard he’s trying
-his support is absolutely unwavering, so as soon as you start to doubt yourself or talk down to yourself, he’s there to put a full stop to that shit
-“i’m never gonna fucking pass,” you flop back in his bed, blowing a frustrated breath out. “i can’t remember any of this shit and it won’t matter how long i spent studying because i’m gonna get in the exam room and absolutely choke-”
-“stop talking about yourself like that.” he’d cut you off. “you’ve been working nonstop to pass this test and you’re like the smart person i’ve ever met. i don’t wanna hear any of that. the more you say it, the more you’ll believe it and it’s just not fucking true. understood?”
-it makes your heart do backflips
-i think he’d be the type to pack you a big of snacks or a meal for days he knows you’re gonna be in the library all day studying
-you’d come up to the living room with your bag slung over your shoulder and your hair still wet from the shower and place a kiss on his cheek as you leave. “i’m going to study, baby. i’ll probably be back late.”
-“thats fine, ma. don’t stress yourself out too much.” he’d pause the show he was watching and turn in his seat on the couch slightly. “i made you some food to take with you. make sure you eat it, i worked hard on that.”
-“chris, this is so sweet. you’d didn’t have to do this.”
-he’d give you a strange look. “why wouldn’t i? i need my girl to be taken care of. plus i knew you would ignore me if i told you to eat. shit is so annoying.” he’d roll his eyes while you shrug.
-“oh fuck off. sometimes i just forget.”
-he would also help you study, using all the guides you’ve done. he’s soooo the type of bf to give a kiss for every right answer too. it keeps you motivated and keeps him happy. kissing you is his favorite thing to do after all.
-when you would get so stressed and anxious about failing you would cry, his heart would actually break
-you would be on like hour six straight with no breaks and he would close your books, starting to put everything away
-“chris, what the fuck are you doing! i have so much more to do.”
-“no. you’re driving yourself crazy and it’s not good for you. you’re done for tonight. i’m gonna run you a bath and then we’ll watch a movie.”
-you’d pretend to be mad but actually be so grateful he could see you were close to breaking down. to be loved is to be known
-chris goes with you in the morning and waits for you in the car while you take your test
-he’s waiting for you outside on the hood of your car when you come out, wringing his hands nervously to hear how you did
-when he sees the sad look on your face he instantly goes to grab you and make you feel better
-but when you told him that you passed w flying colors he is so proud of you he nearly cried.
-“yes! that’s my girl! i knew you could do it, baby. my girlfriend, the scholar.” and he’s peppering kisses all over your face while hugging you tightly
-you soak in the moment with a warm heart because you have the best boyfriend in the world and it baffles you just how much he believes in you. you are so in love with him
-and he loves you exactly the same
TAGS:
@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds
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wittlesissyb4by · 2 days
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Normalcy
"I'm so sorry! This…this never happens!!”
She drew her lips in a line and nodded, like she’d heard it a thousand times before, then went back to smacking her gum as she balled up the soggy diaper with practiced precision.
“No! I’m serious! I’m a grown man!! It’s not like I walk around pissing myself all the time!”
She scoffed, then shrugged. “Well you weren’t doing much walking—first of all—more like waddling. But you mean to tell me you never wet yourself? You’ve never wet a diaper before?”
“No…i…”
She inclined her head to the corner of the room, where a big sack of loaded diapers sat in a blue see-through bag.
“Okay…fine, I do. But only after a very long time period!! You don’t understand! My wife will leave me in them for the whole day!”
“I’ve only been here for an hour…”
“Yes but…” i wanted to tell her that was because my wife had made me drink three entire baby bottles of nasty fluids before she left. I tried to hold it. I really did. I didn’t want her little ‘babysitter’ to see me in a soggy diaper. In hindsight, i should have just let it all out with my wife and begged her to change me before she went off with that other dude. “It’s not a regular thing!”
“She told me you wet the bed.” The girl said, hardly even blinking as she taped my plump padding into a ball.
It was hard to explain that one away. Sure, there were several drunken nights where I’d blacked out and woken up with wet sheets in our marital bed. My wife was none too happy, but somehow those incidents kept happening even when I was sober, until she finally grew sick of it.
“So how long have you been in diapers?” The girl asked, setting my old one to the side and grabbing a fresh pamper. She asked it so casually, like it was a common point of conversation.
“3 months…” I said, unable to deny it anymore. “For the last two weeks it’s been 24/7. She…threw out all my underwear.”
The girl nodded as if nothing were out of the ordinary, tapping my thighs, apparently signaling for me to lift. I did so without incident, allowing her to slide the new diaper underneath.
“Do you make poo poo’s in them too?”
“No!” I said instinctively, but again she looked at me like a rugrat attempting an obvious lie.
“So if I go put your head in that bag, you won’t suffocate under a cloud of your own shit?”
Her words were cold, I had a feeling she’d do it too.
“Okay…fine. I do…”
“Do what?”
“P-poop…”
“Poop where?” She grinned, still smacking her gum, “I want you to tell me.”
I scrunched up my nose, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I poop in the diapers.”
But she wasn’t satisfied, “now tell me wike a baybee!”
She couldn’t be serious, but when her face turned stern with impatience, it told me that she probably wasn’t someone I should cross.
“Uh…i…” I felt my voice growing smaller, higher, “I make poo poo’s in my pampies!!”
She smiled wide at that. “How do you poop?”
“I…what?” I asked, voice returning to normal.
“How do you do it? Do you crouch? Get down on hour haunches and make a pushy? Or have you learned to go in any position already? All the men I babysit have a different method. It’s adorable. One of them even has to sit on the potty in order to go!“
“I just…do it…I guess. I dunno?” Usually squatting, it came out surprisingly easy that way, but I didn’t want to tell her that, and she didn’t press further, just seemed intent on making me blush.
“Well…I don’t feel like changing a poopy diaper today. So you’re going to get the plug, okay?”
P-plug?
She reached into her diaper bag that she brought herself, and pulled out a rather large silicon buttplug.
“Oh…i dunno…” I said, squirming on top of the diaper splayed out beneath me. “My wife and I don’t really do butt stuff…”
But she just smiled and squirted some lube on it, painting the glob over it with her fingers. “It’s cute that you think you have a say in the matter.” She giggled, “legs up!”
Before I knew it, my ankles were in the air. It was like she had some sort of power over me that I couldn’t resist.
I winced as she pressed the plug to my hole, gently working it in and out, in and out. I had to bite my lip to keep the squeals (and moans?) in. It felt…surprisingly good.
By the time she’d worked it all the way in, there was a little puddle leaking out of my chastity cage. It had spread onto my belly button while my legs were in the air.
“Sorry…” I said as she grabbed a baby wipe to clean up the sticky mess I’d made.
"Don't worry about it.” She smiled, amused. “It's...normal..."
“Is it?” I asked, feeling a sense of relief.
“Sure.” She shrugged, but it came off sarcastic. “Well…not normal to be a grown man in diapers. To poop said diapers. Not normal to have your wife go off and hire a babysitter to change your diapers. And definitely not normal to have another man fuck your wife. But leaking a little cum through your chastity cage while getting a plug shoved up your ass?” She tossed the sticky wipe down into my open diaper, lifting the front so she could tape it on, “yea, I guess that’s pretty ‘normal’…”
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ellecdc · 12 hours
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i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃
idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.
now i bid you good day my lady 🫡
I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for
poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat
Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.
“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.
“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.
“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”
Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”
The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.
Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.
The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.
“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.
“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 
“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 
“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.
“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”
Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.
“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.
“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 
“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 
“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”
It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”
They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”
Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 
And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.
You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”
Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 
“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 
You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.
“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.
You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 
“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”
“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”
“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 
Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 
Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”
You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.
“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.
“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.
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zexapher · 3 days
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Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days
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They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.
The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.
You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.
This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).
Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.
The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.
Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.
Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.
Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!
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thegettingbyp2 · 3 days
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Hello! New to your account but i love your spencer reid x reader!!! 💕
Saw ur requests are open so im grabbing this opportunity to request a jealous spencer reid hehe something like they’ve been friends and then something happened, jealous!spencer appears lmao idk how to explain things lol
Thank you tho! Love lots!
The Way I Love You
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Spencer Reid wasn’t someone who inherently hated anybody. But he hated your boyfriend. At first, he thought that it was because the two of you had been best friends for so long, he was the only person you fully confided in, and then you met James and, all of a sudden, everything changed. You’d spend more time with him and then you’d go and see a film that Spencer thought the two of you were going to see together. However, it really clicked for him the first time he saw you kiss him.
Spencer Reid was in love with you. And he hated that James plucked up the courage to ask you out first.
However, the longer you were with James, the more Spencer could see just how one-sided your relationship with him was. More and more, you’d come into work disheartened because he’d cancelled yet another date night and then whenever you’d bring him to the infamous dinners at Rossi’s, you’d be the one trying to sit with him only for him to find an excuse to wander away. It broke Spencer’s heart to see you quickly shake off the feeling of disappointment to follow him, and how you’d be glowing with happiness as soon as he showed you the slightest bit of affection.
It was when you came into the office for the fifth day in a row, with your eyes red-rimmed, that he felt all of the anger and jealousy he’d been feeling for the entirety of yours and James’ relationship bubble over the top.
‘He cancelled again, didn’t he?’ Spencer asked when you sat at your desk next to him, not really needing an answer.
‘Just drop it, Spence,’ you replied, sounding exhausted.
‘What was his excuse this time? Couldn’t be bothered? Too tired?’
‘Spence, please.’
‘When are you going to see that he’s only around when he wants to be, (Y/N)? That he only wants you, uses you when he wants to get his dick wet!’ Spencer’s voice had risen as he spoke and the volume of his voice paired with what he said caused your eyes to widen and to be thankful that the two of you were the only ones in the office at the moment. You’d been friends with Spencer for 7 years and not once had you heard him speak like that.
Not knowing how to respond, all you could think to do was to get up and leave the room. You heard Spencer call out your name as he got up from his own seat to follow you but you refused to turn around. The only thing that stopped you was Spencer’s fingers wrapping around your wrist, pulling you to a halt. ‘How could you say that?’ you asked, your voice a barely there whisper as tears filled your eyes when you looked up at Spencer. His eyes softened and he tugged you into him slightly closer.
‘(Y/N), I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just hate seeing you accept the way he treats you. You don’t deserve to be with someone who loves you like he does. His love’s like a disease, (Y/N), and if you let it carry on for much longer then you won’t be able to step back and you’ll be stuck with him.’
‘Yeah? If he doesn’t love me the right way, what is the right way someone should love me?’ you asked, lowering your eyes, not wanting to get your hopes up.
‘You should be loved by someone who loves you the way I love you,’ he blurted out and your head shot up to look at him. ‘You should be loved by someone who knows how lucky they are to be loved by you. Someone who would bring you flowers just because he saw them and thought of you. Someone who wants to be around you all the time, even if it’s just to sit in the living room together and watch TV and - ’
Spencer’s words were cut off when you stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder as you felt a few stray tears fall from your eyes. As he had been speaking, you’d realised that not only did you want a love like that, you wanted a love like that with Spencer and you felt yourself relax when his arms wrapped back around you like a vice.
‘Ask me,’ you said, your voice muffled by the fabric of his cardigan.
‘What?’ Spencer asked, wanting to be sure of what you were asking of him in order to avoid making a fool of himself.
‘Ask me what you want to ask me?’ you repeated, pulling back slightly to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips.
‘Leave him? Go on a date with me?’ Spencer asked shyly, knowing that what he was asking of you was a lot.
In response, you reached up on your toes and pressed your lips gently to his. ‘Consider him left,’ you said against his lips, making him sigh happily against you as he deepened the kiss.
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tzuyusluv · 2 days
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☀︎ Return of Happiness
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genre -> fluff
pairing -> enha’s niki x reader
warnings -> idol au, mentions of getting married, niki teases mc slightly
word count -> 0.6k
summary -> meeting niki after a long tour
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This plane ride back to Korea was longer than the three month long tour. Maybe it’s because during the tour you were too distracted by seeing all your fans, the new places and being splashed with water by your other members to really think about being in a different country from your boyfriend and friends.
It felt like it had been three days since you boarded, but looking at the time on your phone showed it had only been an hour and a half. You still had around eleven more to go until you reached Seoul’s airport and most likely another hour until you could get out of there if you were lucky.
Looking at the time again, you sigh when you see that only a minute has passed. Your leader, who sat next to you, placed their hand on your shoulder gently and rubbed their hand against it, comforting you.
“I know you want to go see him. You will once we land. The company always gives a few weeks break after a tour.” They whispers softly. “You can go to sleep and dream of giving Riki your gifts from every city we visited. I’ll wake you up an hour before we land.”
Sleep sounded good. Especially as an idol who often didn’t get enough sleep. But yet, your mind just couldn’t stop thinking. You thought of every concert, the outfits the fans war that sometimes rivaled yours when you were on stage, your members who were littered throughout the plane. You thought of Riki the most though. How sweet he was, how his humor always landed with everyone he met, how he was so much taller than you and treated you so gently, like a porcelain doll.
You started to drift off at the thought of him. Eventually your eyes shut and you fell asleep. Dreaming of Riki.
You woke to your leader tapping your shoulder. “Hey, we’ve landed. I tried to wake you at the hour mark but you didn’t want to.” They explain gently. Stretching as best as you can in those small spaces, you look around as everyone started to stand up and grab their packages. “Manager says that there’s a surprise out there.” They say standing from their seat to count where the rest of your members are currently.
“A surprise?” You ask. “Manager never surprises us.” Your leader nods in agreement. Waiting for everyone to clear out, you move in the aisle. Your leader following and grabbing both of your guys luggage’s. When the rest of your group eventually groups back up, you exit the plane while expressing your thanks to the flight attendants.
“Ok I was told we have wait here for manager.” The leader stops the group. You lean on your luggage, still tired and oblivious to the grins that your members are giving you.
Jolting up when you feel hands on your waist, you turn around thinking it was one of your members seeking revenge for you pouring a water bottle over them. Instead you turn and meet Riki.
“Hey jagi.” He says smiling while you stand there dumbfounded. “Wow I’m so hurt. Not even a hug.” He fake pouts. You snap out of your trance before lunging on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist. “Missed me that much didn’t you?” He teases as he gently kisses your temple. Hiding your face in his neck, you nod your head as best as you can. “Well don’t worry. Your manager said that I can sleep over tonight as long as the door is open.” He says against your skin before kissing it again.
“Got gifts for you in every city.” You mumble against his neck. “Wow stealing my ideas now huh? First it was my heart, then my ideas. What’s next, my last name?” He teases you again. You just shake your head in disbelief at his words. “Don’t worry Jagi. I’ll make sure to get your managers blessings before.”
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princessslutt · 2 days
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can you make one where the reader is like a huge huge fan of sanrio, like anything to do with sanrio, and she will eat that shit up, rafe pretends to find it annoying like "why do you have an obsession with that stupid ass cat 🙄" but whenever rafe sees anything related to sanrio, anywhere he immediately buys it and gives it to her
Btw I love ur writing sm !! 💓
rafe knows you’re a big sanrio fan, but he acts so surprised when he sees that you have more things than the last time he came over.
“really? you bought more of this shit?” rafe announces, groaning and shaking his head.
you just smile, turning to look at him with a plushie in your hand. “I like them rafey! they’re so cute!”
rafe rolls his eyes, grabbing his keys and signals you out the door with a little pat on the ass. you yelp at that, turning around quickly and giving him the finger.
“I’m just gonna let that slide” rafe sighs, not wanting to deal with your shit today and having an actual good day.
rafe walks over to the passenger side door and opens it for you. smiling, you get into the car and watch him run over to the drivers side door and get in.
“so what did you want? this s-sanrio shit or how ever you say it?” you giggle at his stuttering, finding it funny and adorable at the same time that he just wants to make you happy.
you nod, turning over to pull your seatbelt over you as you kick your shoes off, rafe doesn’t exactly care that you like to get comfortable in his car, just as long as you not mess anything up or get something dirty.
rafe pulls into the nearest target, because that’s were they supposedly have the cuter ones.
rafe gets out of the car and opens the door for you, letting you get out of it and closing the door behind you.
he doesn’t like to admit it, but he likes to hold your hand when walking around. he doesn’t want to lose his sweet girlfriend.
by the time you get inside, you’re already running to the aisle they have the sanrio stuff in. squealing at all the brand new collections they have.
without even realizing it, rafe throws random shit that he thinks you would like. you turn your head to see a cart full of your favorite things.
you swear you got teary eyed. “thank you rafey!!” you say happily, twirling around to put whatever what was in your hand in the cart.
“anything for my princess.”
˚˖𓍢ִ🐈✧˚.🌷୨୧ ⋅˚₊
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Text
the girl next door 6
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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You can’t remember the last time you had the house to yourself. Even if your mother’s just next door, it feels a little lighter around there. And you’re happy for her. Maybe having Steve around will be good. He can be an outlet so she doesn’t have to put all her frustrations on you. 
She was happy when she left, even excited. That’s another rarity in your life. 
You start your day off with a tea. The apple cinnamon bags are a bit old so you use two. You bring the cup into your room and get your table set up with your pencils and sketchbook. You open the window to let in the sunlight, the natural light much brighter than the yellowed bulb above. 
You know your mom would tell you to do something more useful than just scribble in your sketchbook. You got the dishes done last night. Steve offered to help but you deflected as you foresaw your mom’s disapproval. You can’t let company pick up your slack. 
You try to wipe away the anxiety of last night. It’s over now. You shouldn’t have worry very much about it again. 
You finish your tea. It’s cold by the time you get to the dregs. You sit back to look over your sketch. Your eyes feel a bit fuzzy from hyperfocusing on that one stamen. You rub your brow and yawn. The sun shifts and you look over at the old alarm clock on your nightstand. It’s close to noon. 
Something else catches your eye. You look up at the window across from yours. The curtain ripples around the gap before it’s pulled open from inside. Steve stands on the other side of the pane. Can he see you? 
You can’t tell as he turns away without acknowledgement. The glare of the sun should hide your room well enough. You never really thought of it as your blinds are closed more often than not. 
You get up to rinse out your cup. You stretch your legs as you pace in the kitchen. You’re restless. You’re so used to your mom and her demands and expectations, that having your own time feels aimless. 
You could surprise your mother with dinner. Have it in the oven when she comes home. It’s still early but you can make something more than boxed macaroni. It will be a good cushion to fall back on when you remind her about tomorrow’s appointment. 
🏠
When your mother returns, you can see the fatigue around her eyes. For as little as she goes out, you’re not surprised. What strikes you, is how happy she is. You help her to her recliner and she sighs as she leans back. 
“Such a nice man,” she keeps repeating.  
You smile and let her regale you with a recounting of her day. Still, you can’t help but wait for the pendulum to swing back to normal. She leans her head in her hand, her eyes distant. 
“I swear, the universe sent him to me,” she says, “it had to. It was how much I need someone.” She drops her hand and traces her finger around the armrest, “sick, got a lazy daughter, stuck in this damn house...” 
There it is. You frown. You mash your hands together and waver. 
“I made dinner,” you offer. 
“I don’t want KD,” she snips. 
“I made... I made shepherd’s pie,” you offer meekly, “should be almost done.” 
“Hm, wondered what that stench was.” 
You frown. “I can put it in the fridge for tomorrow. Be good to have something we can just heat up after the doctor’s.” 
“Doctor?” She grumbles, “eh... I forgot.” 
She slumps and her eyes dull. You can’t help the pang in your chest. Sometimes you wish it was you who was sick. It feels like you deserve it more than her. 
“Hopefully it’s good. If you can get the surgery--” 
“Surgery!? Surgery. You keep going on about the damn thing,” she barks. “They can’t fix me, girl, get that through your head.” 
“I know, mom, but they can help--” 
“Like you help me? Crittering around here like a rat!” She hits the armrest violently, “would ya leave me be?” She closes her eyes and turns her face away, deflating once more, “ruined a good day...” 
You sniffle and slowly turn on your heel. You should have known better. You should have just left her alone. As much as she rants about you staying in your room, she prefers you there. Out of sight, out of mind. 
🏠
The next day, your mother doesn’t say much. Her silence is just a bitter as her words. You don’t push it. She gets in the car without argument and you set off into town. Even if she says it’s a waste of time, she listens intently to the doctor and answers all his questions. It’s only when she has to go through the tests that she shows her agitation. 
After some hours spent at the specialist clinic, you’re free to go. Your mom is just as quiet. You feel her mood roiling in the air. Her hand is shaking to the point that she’s hissing at it. 
You steer down to the corner and linger at the stop sign. 
“Mom,” you squeak, “you want some orange julius? A treat for the way home?” 
“Don’t talk to me like a damn child,” she snarls. “Let’s just go. I’m tired. Got no blood left in me.” 
You nod and bite your tongue. Maybe you can just put her to bed. Her naps are a respite, though you find yourself anxious in the silence, terrified of waking her prematurely.  
As you pull onto the suburban avenue, you slow and approach your drive. You pull in and shut off the engine. You get out and go around to help your mom. You open her door and she hauls herself out, tisking under her breath. 
“Didn’t see him,” she mutters. 
“Good afternoon,” Steve’s voice answers your question before you can ask. You look over the hood as he waves from his porch, “busy day?” 
Your mother steels herself and forces a smile, “just went to the doctors.” 
“Oh, everything okay?” He asks. 
“Sure,” she chimes, “just some tests. Nothing serious.” 
“Good to hear,” he stands behind the porch railing, arches crossed, “day’s not over yet. Still lots of time to enjoy the sun.” 
“Mhmm,” you mom grabs onto your wrist, shaking you as leans into you. “Nice day out.” 
“I was gonna do up a milkshake, if you ladies wanted to join me I got plenty to go around.” 
“Milkshakes?” Your mother considers, “mm, I’d have to change out of these.” She looks down, “smell like a hospital.” 
“Sure, take your time,” Steve says, “how about you, honey? I got strawberry. You seem like a strawberry type.” 
“Eh, she’s more a vanilla type,” your other cackles. “Plain.” 
“Got that too,” Steve ignores the joke. “I understand if you’re tired out though. Don’t wanna be too desperate over here, just wouldn’t mind the company.” 
“I’ll be over soon,” your mom assures him, “she’s got some laundry to do.” 
She keeps hold of you and points you towards the house. You help her inside, even though she does her best to hid how she clings to you. Her steps are uneven and stunted. You get through the front door and help her sit on the chair you keep by the door, just in case. 
“Goddamnit,” she’s shaking pretty bad. “Help me, you dumb girl.” 
“I... I don’t...” 
“Get my goddamn inhaler. I forgot it this morning.” 
“Oh, uh, okay.” 
You hurry down the hall and to bathroom. It isn’t in the cabinet. You go back out and scan the table. Not their either. You find it next to her recliner. You wish she’d keep it one place. You go back to her and hand it over. 
“I’m gonna go over,” she says before she huffs from the canister, “you’re gonna stay here. Out of my way.” 
“Alright,” you agree. You prefer that anyway. 
She takes a minute before she gets up. She shooes you away and you retreat to your bedroom. You sit on your bed and wring your hands, waiting as you listen to her. She doesn’t say goodbye before she leaves. Only the front door slamming lets you know she’s gone. 
You exhale and pull the fold out table up to the edge of the bed. You open your sketchbook and stare at the pencil. You don’t feel like drawing but you have nothing else to do. You just sit, looking at the amaryllis. You can pick out every flaw in your work. You close the cover and frown. 
A knock startles you and you stand up. Oh gosh, it’s probably Marge. What is it now? Is the siding too stained? Are the steps crooked? You get up and shuffles down the hall. You open the front door, hiding behind it as you poke your head around. 
Steve has the screen door propped open against his elbow. He holds a tall glass filled with pink, “here. Figured I’d bring this over.” 
“Oh, uh, thanks,” you accept the condensating glass, a wide straw poking out of the whipped cream topped drink. 
“Maybe next time you can pop over too,” he suggests, “I’ve been working on getting the pool going...” he grins, “it’ll be a good summer for it.” 
You nod and look down at the milkshake. 
“Really nice of you,” you say. 
“It’s nothing, sweetie,” he puts his hand on the door above him, looking down at you, “enjoy.” 
“Uh,” you look at him then at the straw. You don’t want to be rude. You put your lips around the tip and take a sip. “Mm, yup, good. Thank you.” 
His blue eyes stick to you and he drags his hand down the door, “I’ll make a deal. You come over to see the pool when it’s ready, and I’ll make you another. How about that, sweetie?” 
You push your lips out. It’s not nice to say no. He didn’t have to bring you the milkshake or invite you. You shrug. 
“Okay,” you agree, “erm, thanks again.” 
He nods and taps the door frame before he steps back. He gently closes the screen door and you watch him through. He turns and strides down the stairs. You shiver as the cold glass numbs your fingers. Hopefully, he forgets about the pool thing. You don't even have a suit.
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 days
Text
The Fox and The Fawn
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High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel
Part Six
Summary - Weeks have passed since the discovery of your Carranam status with Eris, but even as time floats by, you're struggling to grapple with the emotions that are haunting your every step, and someone appears to solidify those thoughts as truth.
Warnings - angst, fluff, found family love, mentions of trauma, ptsd themes, Nesta getting caught out, flirting, soft pining
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five
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Eris struggled to remember a time when he was truly happy, when his life didn't revolve around the cruel clutches of his father.
It was a blessing really, how you had tumbled into his life, and he thanked the Mother each day that you spoke for him that day in the Night Court, he commended your bravery for speaking against your blood, and he watched you in awe when you had made the decision to forge the right path for yourself.
Eris' life had never been one of happiness, of fulfilment and laughter, of dancing in the rain and living in the moment, but, you had made it be that way.
Two weeks had floated by, far too quickly for his liking, but he took it as a good sign. Part of him thought that you'd retreat back into your shell that you had worked so hard to break free of once he told you of Rhys' motives, and it was hard to deny your strength when the news had only spurred you on.
It wasn't odd to see your nose burrowed into a book, and whilst Nesta read her smutty little fictions, you had focused on books that would elevate your power and understanding, and it wasn't long until you had pulled Eris to the edge of the estate, to the place where the water kissed the rocks, and asked him to touch you again.
Carranam.
It was a term that Eris hadn't heard of, and it wasn't something you had told him about, even after your powers had merged into one and black flame weaved through your joint limbs.
A soft humming danced through the air, soft crackles of the open fire sounded from the hearth before him, it's gentle glow illuminating the seating room that you had touched with comfort. Willow strewn atop you, her head on your chest that you were using as a perch for your book, your legs flung over Eris' thighs.
Two weeks had flown by, and he had never seen you look so strong, Autumn had seeped into you, and if he didn't know who you were, which wasn't possible, he would truthfully believe that you were born in Autumn. After he had told you of Rhys' motive, of the truth that had been hidden from you, you had asked Eris to help you to train your abilities, and he done so without question.
Many moons had gone where he had returned home battered and bruised, questioning why he had told you that he could take whatever you could throw at him. Turns out you could throw a lot.
And hard.
Eris had never seen darkness like it, not from Rhys or even Azriel, your darkness was playful with you, curling and coiling over your skin, but when you thought of attacking, even for a split second, those inky tendrils that resembled the blood of demons became poised and lethal, dancing like snakes over your shoulders.
The darkness didn't harm you though, it wound itself around you like a kindred spirit, like it felt sorry for you.
What are you thinking about, Fawn?
Warmth formed a shield around both of you, a shield that no one dared to prod. When you sat with one another, reading or chatting about everything and nothing, anyone who entered the room knew well enough to leave you both alone.
Your gaze flickered to him, a smirk tugged at the right corner of your lip. From what he knew, which wasn’t much, Carranam meant that you could speak telepathically to one another, that your powers balanced one another in blissful harmony.
I’m thinking about which one of your oils to steal, my skin has been feeling rather dry.
The echo of your voice in his mind was low and sultry, and you looked through your lashes at him. Eris enjoyed the moments he could spend alone with you, even if you didn’t speak much, your presence was an anchor to his consciousness, a thing that held him down to reality.
An incredulous glance was spared your way.
You look rather radiant to me.
Blushing, you turned your attention back to the book in your hands, trying not to squirm as his eyes roamed over you. It was hard to not notice the longing stares and proud eyes, the curved upward lips and the way he dressed when he knew he’d be spending the afternoon with you.
Eris always tried to impress you at every turn.
An array of fruits lay on platters on the table to your side, he knew that you were a stress eater, he had watched you pluck grapes from their vines at the turn of every page to try and distract your mind from whatever raged within it.
Golden light glimmered about the room. It was only you two that evening, Lucien had taken Elain out for dinner to silence her incessant begging to see the court where he had grown up, and Nesta was burrowed in her room on the other side of the house, no doubt nose deep in one of her fantasy novels or thinking about Cassian and everything that had transpired.
The guilt had settled into your heart, the guilt of being the reason that Nesta had walked away from her mate, and from her own sister. For you.
Eris’ fingers drifted up your calves, as if he sensed where your mind had roamed to.
I’m fine.
It’s okay not to be.
Silence.
Huffing, you folded the page of the book so that you could resume it later and placed the large thing onto the table with a dull thud. Willow sighed in your lap, and you scratched the place between her eyes to coax her back to slumber.
I feel bad.
Eris shuffled, craning his body to look at you properly, his hand resting gingerly on your knee, waiting for you to continue. It was so difficult to concentrate when he touched you, from the ghosting lingering hands on your hips during training, to the tender touches to your shoulders when you were bustling about the kitchen.
You’re all risking so much for me. Nesta has lost her mate, her and Elain have lost Feyre, Lucien has lost yet another home. I struggle to believe that it’s all worth it.
You had cried the moment Eris had admitted that Rhys had threatened war against the Autumn Court, a place you had come to love dearly. The browning leaves and the golden sun, the scent of bonfires and cinnamon, and the gentle chirping of the foxes that scoured the woodlands were what gave you solace, even the ways his people looked at you with hope and awe made you feel like you belonged.
We are your court, y/n, Eris spoke to you sternly, his voice echoing through the blank canvas that shrouded your mind. There is nothing that we wouldn’t do for you.
You shouldn’t have to.
The ability to speak to one another through your minds was a different feeling compared to that of Rhys' daemati talents. You were glad that you hadn't been gifted the ability yourself. Rhys was able to infiltrate and control the minds of anyone he wished, he had the power to influence their thoughts and, in some case, shatter their minds entirely. What you and Eris, your Carranam, shared was unlike that darkness, what you shared was the brightest of lights and warmest of summers, speaking through your consciousness felt natural and welcomed, like returning home after a long day, what you shared felt relieving.
"A home isn't a place, y/n. It's a person. Home is wherever you make it with the people who build it with you," Eris' voice was as soft as autumn rain, rain that drizzled over the trees and gave them life whilst the sun poured through the branches.
You went to curl your knees to your chest but Eris wouldn't let you, he didn't want you to retreat into yourself, drowning in guilt. Eris lay his hands firmly on your knees to keep your legs draped over him, to have your smooth skin brushing against the cloth of his briefs, to let you know that your place with him was one of safety and respect.
"And if I decide that my home is here?" Your question trailed off, you fiddled with seams of your nightgown, a long plum coloured satin number that was modest but sinful in the same swing.
"I would be honoured," Eris' fingers reached for your face, grazing the curve beneath your ear and following it across your jaw all whilst his eyes admired the fire burning in your own.
If Eris knew of the effect he had on you, he didn't let on, how he made your heart race and thoughts cloud, you weren't sure how he'd react if he did. Would he turn you away? Would he sternly tell you that your place was not meant to be by his side? Would he choose you?
You weren't sure what to think of it, but you knew for certain that you were so screwed.
The day had long since disappeared and you didn't know how long you'd been sat there with Willow and Eris, in that bubble of serenity that you actively sought out since the first instance it had occurred. It had been a long day, your mind was reeling with pain and guilt, and you had needed to feel a moment of peace, a moment where you felt like you belonged somewhere in the world. That's when Eris had led you to the seating room, he had lit the fire and whistled to his hounds, all of which lay scattered around you on the free seats and on the rugs adorning the floor, and then there was Willow who always found her place beside you.
Eris couldn't even find the will to be annoyed about it before he had nestled in beside you, placed your legs on his lap, and told you that no matter what happened you would always have a place in Autumn, and, if you chose to leave, he would happily give you whatever it is you would need to build a life that you wanted, that you deserved.
It was his own tortured soul that craved to give you whatever you desired, he couldn't give himself the same luxury, but he could give it to you.
As if sensing his own self-doubt and the lingering emotion of feeling completely unworthy to breathe the same air as you or else taint it, Eris pulled back, and an unwelcomed shiver ran up your spine at the sudden movement, "It's late," the look on your face wounded him, the flash of dismissal that clasped around the ring of burnt orange and molten gold in your irises.
Shaking your head softly, you rose from the seat, Willow groaning at the movement of you sliding out from beneath her, "It is," you reached for the book on the table and held it close to your chest, taking a moment before retreating toward the staircase but not lingering there at all before pattering upward and disappearing from sight.
Gods.
Eris ran a hand over his face and threw his head backward, sighing. There was nothing that he wanted more than to know what your lips tasted like, how they would feel moulded to his, but he couldn't let himself find out. After everything you had been through, you deserved real love, you deserved to know what it felt like to be independent, and Eris didn't believe that a life with him would do you any amount of good. Eris believed that he was an evil male, many would agree with the thought, and he couldn't allow himself to give into that carnal desire to be with you.
In whatever capacity you could allow, Eris wanted to be in your life, and if that was simply as a friend, then he would choke down every emotion he could to ensure that friendship lived as long as you both did.
"She doesn't believe it, you know?" Eris' head snapped to the side to see Nesta lingering in the archway to the room, her silver eyes flittering about the space with intrigue as she inhaled deeply and smirked softly, to herself. When Eris didn't answer, waiting for her to explain, she continued, "If y/n thought that you were evil, truly evil, then she would have never aided you that day."
Of course Nesta Archeron had to be the voice of reason and truth, "She deserves better," Nesta cocked her head to the side and examined him, but more than that, she was noting the moulded scents that clung to the air.
A tingling harmonisation made the hairs on her arms stand on end, it was both of you, your scent of freshly blown out matches and adored parchment with a hint of jasmine, and his scent of pine and warm oranges, of subtle spices and apple pie straight from the oven.
Stupid. Blind. Fools.
Nesta took a step into the room, allowing your scents to wash over her, a strong prominent smell that threatened to overwhelm her senses, "After I was Made, y/n was one of the very few people who understood me, she saw straight through the mask I had dared to wear around her and picked it from my face piece by piece."
Settling into the armchair across the way from the High Lord, Nesta smiled fondly, lost in the memories of you, and continued, "I wasn't the best of sisters to Feyre and Elain, but as soon as I met y/n, I found myself working for a second chance to do things right. That's what y/n can do, she can make you feel like you can change, like there's still time to turn the tables and be the person you have always wanted to be," Eris listened intently, a soft smile on his lips, "I may have lost Cassian, my mate," she swallowed hard, "And my sister, and nephew, and friends if you could even call them that," Nesta looked to Eris, she looked deep into his soul and saw parts of you burning within it, "But I would lose it all again, in every life, if it meant that I had her. The person who made me believe in the goodness of the world, in the light that existed in me, and mended parts of me that I didn't even realise were broken."
It was an honest conversation, one that Eris didn't think would ever occur again.
"She wouldn't allow you to go to war for her," the atmosphere shifted, "She would sooner rather give herself back to a life in that prison than risk anything happening to you, and you wouldn't be able to stop her from doing it."
"Is it something she thinks about?"
Nesta craned her head to look over her shoulder, half-expecting you to be stood there, but when you weren't, having confined yourself to your room prior to Nesta's appearance, she sighed, "I know it is."
Time halted for a moment, and his breath became caught in his throat. So much work had gone into training your abilities, from both of you, if war was to rage on then no army would be able to stand against you.
That was the problem.
In doing that, in decimating armies and going to war against your own brother, the entire land would see you as what Rhys had made them fear. A monster. A putrid thing of the darkest pits of Hel.
"You never told her what you found," Nesta stiffened, "When you went Under The Mountain, you told her that Azriel didn't find anything. Not we, not I, just Azriel," Nesta leaned forward in her seat, her silver eyes blazing with flames of warning, "What are you hiding, Nesta? What did you find Under The Mountain? What did Amarantha do?"
"Rhys can never know, and she can only know when she is ready to."
And so Nesta told him what she had seen, what she had felt, and once she had finished, she sat back and said nothing as the colour drained from his face.
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A morning alone was exactly what you needed.
The early morning light had woken you before the rest of the house, and the sleep you had gotten was deep enough to allow you to dream, dream soundly enough that you had woken feeling lighter than you had felt in weeks.
Birdsong drifted through the woods, your cloak drifted along in the gentle morning breeze, and the dry leaves beneath your feet crunched under yours and Willow's weight as she trotted beside you over the mound of earth. Axos snorted in the background as you nearly slipped over a damp twig that slipped under your foot, and you looked back to the stallion with a craned brow.
The courage to ride Axos on your own had sprouted from nowhere, the notion of it called to you as soon as you had glanced to the cream riding boots from Eris, and you had dressed in your riding gear quickly before entering the stables and asking one of the stableboys to ready the stallion for you.
Axos was more surprised to see you than you were to see him, and the beast had even lowered himself a few inches to make your ascent a little easier.
You weren't entirely sure where you were going, or where you wanted to end up that morning, but it had been hours and you were happy to find the place where your feet wished to carry you.
Unbound hair drifted over your face, and you blew the strands away as you continued to climb upward, up and up until you couldn't see Axos anymore, up and up until the ground and air began to turn cold and your breath was wisps of smoke before your face.
Expecting a spectacular view, your heart stopped beating in your chest when you saw it.
The large black wings and the coiling grin.
"Hello, sister," his voice drawled, he was dressed in his usual attire, a black suit of sorts, wearing a face you couldn't quite read.
Rhys was far enough away that he couldn't reach through the wards and grab you but close enough that you could feel his anger rippling along the barrier of the Autumn Court.
Looking about the space, you felt like a rabbit backed into a corner, waiting for the dogs to tear it apart. Willow bared her teeth at him, and he looked at her with such insignificance that it made your blood roar.
Turn around, y/n. Just walk away.
Those violet eyes roamed over you, flaring at the sight of your unbound hair, the cloak, the clothes covering your skin and the riding boots smudged with mud. How Autumn had poisoned you, "You look different."
"Why are you here?"
Rhys smirked, finding amusement in your reluctance to engage with him, "Just because we can't get in, doesn't mean we can't go above."
The earth rumbled as another body joined the fray, and you winced when you saw Azriel take his place at Rhys' side. Of course he had been tasked with soaring over the court, he was keeping an eye on you.
"I knew it would only be a matter of time until you ventured out on your own," Rhys stated. Azriel's eyes were wide as he took you in, his lips cast downward and eyebrows scrunched, contorted in pain as he saw the same sentiment lying in your eyes, "It's time to stop this nonsense, y/n. You've made your point, now it's time to come home."
In the distance, you heard Axos call out to you, Willow moved to stand in front of you, seemingly believing that she alone could protect you if the High Lord dared to make a single move to reach through those shields.
"I'm not coming back."
Rolling his neck to keep his temper in check, Rhys clenched and then relaxed his fists, exhaling through his mouth is a perfect o, "Do you know what is going to happen if you don't? You are property of the Night Court, people have been killed for less."
There was no choice but to throw up your mask, "The only one I belong to is myself, and you'd do well to remember that. Let's not forget who holds the true power here, brother."
Matching his façade of calm, you caught his lip twitch, "I will kill them all, Nesta, Lucien and Elain, even your precious Eris, and every male, female, or child who would dare to try and keep you from me, and I will make you watch as I do it, until you submit yourself."
Kill Nesta. Elain and Lucien. Eris.
You would not let your mask break, you would not let him see the panic that ravaged within you, "I will burn your court to ash if you even try it. I wouldn't bother testing me," you raised your hand against your side, allowing those black flames to spark at your fingertips and lick up the skin of your forearm. Azriel gasped softly, the flame reminding him all to well of his own afflictions, and he stepped back.
Wincing in your chest, your heart skipped a beat or two, you had never wanted Azriel to think that you'd hurt him, even if your bargain prevented such a thing from ever occurring. The horror in his eyes made you believe for a moment that you were the monster Rhys had spread the word of.
"Not even you could survive my wrath, Rhys. And now that I know of everything you have done to keep me chained, you're lucky that a shield stands between us."
Rhys smirked, it was sadistic and menacing, it was something that fuelled your nightmares, "Everything I have ever done was to protect you. The power you have is not natural, it is not from this world."
You inhaled deeply, a feline grin tugged at your lips and you kept quiet, waiting.
"Stop pretending that her power doesn't threaten everything that you are, Rhysand, which isn't much," you didn't need to glance over your shoulder to know that Eris was stood behind you, you could feel his face hovering to the side of your head, you could feel his fingers move to rest on your waist.
"I would say that it was nice to see you both, but that would be a lie. Don't come here again," you turned your back to them and caught a glance of Eris, of his stone cold face and deadly stare, deadly enough that you were sure that Rhys wouldn't be safe from it even if he was six feet under.
Making the decision to walk away, to descend the hill, shivers prickled down your spine at the words that flew through the air, "I won't warn you again, y/n. Come home, or I will make sure that you are left with nothing."
Eris placed a hand on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric atop your skin in attempt to soothe you, and he guided you onward, and you didn't once look back at the males you once called family.
Neither of you spoke a word on the descent, even Willow padded alongside you silently with her head hung low, her nose kissing the ground. As soon as the ground was flat and Axos was back in your view, you couldn't help but speed to the nearest tree and use it as leverage as you emptied the contents of your stomach.
Palms rubbed slow circles into your back, Eris' soft voice called to you and he moved your hair from your shoulders so that it didn't become covered in the liquid. After a few moments, you let out a panting breath and wiped your lips with the back of your hand.
"I didn't realise how far we'd gone. I'm sorry."
Eris looked to you confused and hurt, hurt that you'd think he would ever scold you for exploring your home, "Are you alright?"
The nod you gave him wasn't at all convincing, that paired with your shaking form, he knew that Rhys had gotten under your skin. Without hesitation, Eris pulled you into his chest, entangling his fingers in your hair and held you as sobs broke through your lips, "I didn't want to believe it, I didn't want to believe that it was true," the sounds of your broken words hurt him.
Amongst all of the fire and sass, amongst all of the kind words and wonder, there was still a little girl inside of you that wanted nothing more than to be loved, to be valued and protected in the most pure sense possible.
An entire life of chains had dulled you, taken parts of you that weren't theirs to take, and Eris was finding it hard to restrain his anger, he was finding it hard to not set the High Lord alight and chuckle as he burned.
Whatever happened to Rhys from here on out was solely your decision, Eris wouldn't take that from you.
And in that moment, as he stood in the woodland of his court with you broken and crying in his arms, did he mull over Nesta's words in his mind and decide that loving you openly was better than depriving you both of the notion.
Love was a risk, but he would rather waltz into the unknown, whether that mean death or not, with you by his side than allow either of you to spend another moment believing that you were unworthy of happiness.
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Authors Note
It's getting hot in hereeeee
Hope you love it! x
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145 notes · View notes
mikkomacko · 2 days
Note
Thank u for doing requests ! What about giiving kisses on mob boss Nico’s scars (if any)?🥹🥹
This is so sweet oh my god I’m gonna cry. (This also somehow turned into a smut scene at the end so happy first smut scene of mob boss Nico!)
Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I did it justice!
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It wasn’t a big dead, not really. Just an off-handed remark Jack had made after Nico chirped him for getting a bad haircut.
“You should spend more time worrying about that lip of yours than my haircut.” He’d yapped, motioning to the recently split lip Nico had gotten. “Eventually your girl’s not gonna wanna kiss it better.”
It had healed just fine and yeah for a bit there you’d avoided the raw wound, but now that it’s just a sliver of a scar it’s fine, right?
Nico can’t help it. He’s picking at it, smears of shaving cream still splattered across his jaw and cheeks. He picks at it until the skin of his lip is red and raw, and it hurts so badly he has to stop.
In a frantic spiral he’s suddenly spotting all the little marks on his face. Every scar left over from teenage acne to fist fights to hitting his head on the coffee table as a child, Nico feels manic as he takes them all in.
Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved. Maybe he should’ve let his beard grow out, creep up his cheeks and down his neck to hide all the ugly marks.
Down and down and down the rabbit hole he goes. Wiping the shaving cream off with a towel, Nico spots the ugly mark on his collar bone from where he’d been nicked with a knife. The one on his abdomen from where he’d been kicked with steel toe boots.
Something ugly and ashamed rises in his chest, threatens to choke him. He scrambles out of the bathroom, haphazardly shutting off the light as he rushes to the closet. In his haste to cover himself he misses you already lying in bed. It’s not until he’s yanked on a hoodie and sweatpants, finally able to breathe easy, does he notice you watching him with bewilderment.
“You ok boss?” You ask him, slightly amused.
Nico runs a hand through his hair, feels like throwing up. What if you saw all of them? Like really saw them? Sat in front of him and saw all those ugly spots at once, all his ugly spots?
“Fine,” he mumbles, climbing into his side of bed. He feels stiff and awkward, ignoring your gaze as he reaches to shut off the bedside lamp.
You make a confused noise in the dark and Nico blinks until his eyes adjust. Then he’s lying back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers ache to reach for you, to touch your skin. But he’s terrified of you touching his skin and suddenly deciding you don’t want to anymore.
Stupid fucking Jack and his big mouth.
The sheets shuffle, the mattress moving with your weight. “Nico?” A hand pats down the duvet, then slithers across the blanket until it’s resting over his chest.
“Hm?”
“Baby you’re on the edge of the bed.”
“M’just hot.”
“Maybe it’s the winter clothes you just put on?”
Nico hesitates, scrambles for an excuse. “Not feeling well either. Don’t want to get you sick.”
“You ate three plates of pasta, Schoa. I don’t think that’s contagious.”
Clearing his throat, Nico pathetically shrugs. Something’s welled up in his esophagus, is choking him and he wants you to reach over and make it better.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong or am I gonna have to piss you off first?”
He closes his eyes, feels the weight of your hand on him. That feeling chokes him again, makes him panic until he’s spiting out his worst fears to you.
“Do you still want to kiss me?”
Nico expects you to laugh, to kick at his leg and tell him he’s being ridiculous. But he thinks the pathetic whimper of his words has given away how dire this topic is to him.
“Oh baby,” you breathe out, “I want to kiss you all the time.” You sound sincere, like you’re thinking about kissing him right now. It makes his face hot, embarrassed and insecure for some reason.
His silence is thick, hanging in the air so heavily you have to sit up in bed and crawl over him. Nico can’t help it, his hands moving on their own to find your hips as you push the blankets back and straddle his thighs.
“Nothing could ever make me not want you.” You whisper. In the dark he finds your eyes, the moonlight coming through the window gleaming in them. They look shiny and blurry, warped by the night- no by him. Because he’s got tears in his waterline.
“You didn’t want to kiss my lip,” he mumbles like a child, “when it was hurt.”
You stroke through his hair, press your palm to his cheek. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”
“What if next time it’s worse? What if the cut is bigger and then the scar is and it doesn’t get better?”
“What-Nico where is this coming from? Did something happen?”
He’s silent, embarrassed again. “Jack said if my scars get any worse you won’t want to kiss them better anymore.”
“Oh Nico baby,” you huff in disbelief. “Have you ever noticed that Jack doesn’t even have someone to kiss his scars better? Who does he think he is?”
You’re right, but he doesn’t feel better. So he just shrugs, makes some weird noise of protest in his chest because he’s scared and hurt.
“Can I please turn the light on?”
Nico leans into your palm, heart thumping loudly in his chest but he mutters his consent. The lamp flicks on and at first he’s blinded. But then you come into view, one of his shirts on your shoulders and you’re pretty hair frizzy on top of your head.
You look so beautiful over him.
“Oh my god, what has Jack done to you?” You ask softly, stroking your thumb under his droopy eyes that are still wet with unshed tears.
“I don’t know,” he mumbles.
Your fingers trace his face, over the soft skin of his freshly shaved cheeks and the slope of his nose. Your thumb outlines his lips, your eyes following its movement with such adoration in them it makes his heart ache.
“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” you say with earnest, stroking the scar on his lip. “No cut or bruise or scar is ever going to change that.”
“Yeah?”
You lean down, ghost your lips over his. “Yeah Nico,” you promise, sealing it with a kiss. He runs his hands up your back, holds you as you trail kisses over the little marks of his face.
Nimble fingers dip beneath his hoodie, touch the warm skin of his stomach. “Can I take this off my love?”
Sluggish, Nico nods. He sits up enough to help you wiggle it off of him, falling back into the pillows as you throw the hoodie to the side.
You sit back, admiring the skin of his chest and abs with your hands and lidded eyes. “All I see when I look at you, is the brave and strong man that I love.”
Sliding down his body, you mouth at his collarbone with soft and needy lips. Nico sighs contently, lets your breath tickle his skin and grows warm at the way you touch him so sweetly.
Sometimes he wonders how you can treat him so softly, how you can take him in those soft hands and turn him into a puddle.
“Baby,” he whines, unsure of what he’s even calling for. All he knows is that he loves you and you’re making him feel so good.
“Let me love on you,” you request, word pressing into the column of his throat. “Let me show you how beautiful and sexy you are Nico.”
He tangles his fingers in your hair, shudders as pleasure nips at his belly and blood rushes to his cock.
“Fuck, yes, please.”
You’re slow and diligent, finding any and every place on him that is marred or changed and showering it in kisses and loving touches. He’s sweating and panting when you get to the edge of his pants, peeling the band down to reveal more and more of the scar there.
“This one’s my favorite,” you say so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.
“Huh?”
He lifts his head, brain foggy with lust. You peer up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking sultry over the planes of his body. Lips hovering over the mark that trails down the v of his hips and the top of his thigh.
“My favorite,” you mumble into his skin, kissing at the point of his hip. Then you’re pulling his sweats down even more, innocent eyes watching him hiss when his cock jumps free, red and hard against his abdomen.
“Why?”
Your lips curl up, wicked as you bite into the inside of his thigh just enough to make him twitch. “Because I get to see it every time I’m down here.”
Nico’s brain short circuits, shuts down when you bite into his skin again and it feels so good he might come untouched. He doesn’t want to though, not that he needs to tell you that.
You nose at his cock, mouth wet and hot against the base of him and his bones turn to jelly. He falls back into the mattress, widening his legs for you to get closer.
Grounding himself with fingers in your hair, Nico whimpers when you drag the flat of your tongue up his length, gentle fingers wrapping around his girth.
“Baby,” Nico whines again, and you’re already kissing at the thick head of his cock, all teasing flicks of the tongue and lips sticky with precum.
“I know pretty boy,” you assure, sweet and loving. Nico moans, ears growing hot at the pet name. “So pretty, from those big eyes of yours all the way down to your pretty cock, huh?”
His hips buck up, eyes rolling back and he twitches in your hand. Jesus Christ, now he knows why you love when he talks you through sex. The rawness of your words, the truth in your tone, how utterly sweet you sound saying such filthy things.
“Make me cum,” he begs, tugging on your hair encouragingly. “Please just -fuck!”
You swallow him down easy, fitting his cock into your warm mouth just how he taught you. Like it’s habit now, to have his cock dripping into the back of your throat while your tongue licks at the underside of him.
Nico’s so worked up and sensitive he’s already throbbing and threatening to blow his load. That fire licks at the base of his spine, curls his toes and has him blubbering nonsense. You bob your head, drooling down his length and cupping his balls in your palm.
You’re so soft and warm, so loving in everything you do. Nico thinks it might kill him one day, how much you love him. But that would be a hell of a way to go.
His cock throbs, twitching in the hollow of your cheeks and you stroke a free hand over that favorite scar of yours. That’s at it takes and he’s seeing stars, coming so hard on your tongue it twists painfully at the pit of his stomach.
Dropping his hands from you, heavy like his bones are made of lead, Nico fights to catch his breath. Your merciful on him, easy and gentle as you kiss your way back up his torso and to his mouth.
Nico doesn’t peel his eyes open until you’re messily mouthing at his parted lips. Your tongue tastes like him, breath hot and he groans into your mouth as he kisses you back.
“I lied,” you pant when you part from the kiss. “This one’s my favorite actually,” and your pecking a kiss to the scar on his lips.
“Baby you just sucked the soul out of me,” Nico croaks, wrapping his arms around you and pinning you into his sweaty chest. “I can’t take anymore compliments.”
You giggle, touching your nose to his. “It’s the truth this time, I love that one. It’s the first thing I see every morning, the first thing I see after you kiss me.”
Nico hums, smacks a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Yeah? Do you think that’s pretty too?” He goads, smirking when you blush and roll your eyes. “Pretty like my cock? Or pretty like my eyes?”
Laughing, you wiggle in his hold to try and get away. “Oh shut up!”
“Noooo keep telling me how pretty I am, boss please?”
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