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#The only thing that's keeping me from doing that right now is the fact that this person who is slowly making things better for me DOES CARE
harstyle · 3 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
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days
Text
Incubus fyodor 1
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Dom!priest!reader x sub!incubus!fyodor
Warning: pegging, CNC, against a wall, in a church lol, also taking virginity??
Sometimes I use strap, most of the time dick or whatever. Then anyone can feel included? Idk?
This was requested by 🍮 anon, like a loooong time ago. Gonna repost it now :> (was too lazy to do so but now that you are back-)
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Fyodor was just wandering around, looking for his next victim. It was boring to keep staying at one place, he always craved something grandiose and better. One day he ended up at a church after going around town, he detested those places due to his nature. But then he saw you through the windows, a diligent priest working for god. Proud, hard working and kind. What a sight, you must have never known the pleasures of the flesh. Oh how he pitied you, guess he will just ‘enlighten’ you then~
The incubus was wandering inside the building, looking everywhere for you. Until he found you in the chancel, the sacred place. Perfect, let's see how sacred it will be after he defies god’s little helper. Protecting one’s innocence? How laughable.
Fyodor walked inside, wrapping his hands around you and holding you from behind. Hands running all over your torso, grinning in delight as he said, “come on, let's have a little fun~ I can fulfil all your fantasies...” before he could even react to it, you took hold of his hands, turning around and twisting them in the process. “aAHH-”he yelped, falling backwards and taking a few steps back, his body hitting the wall. Your hand pinning his wrists over his head, knee pressed against the wall in between his legs. He felt you apply pressure to his crotch.
The boy gritted his teeth, showing his fangs. "Are you a demon?" You asked nonchalantly, while he struggled against your strength. Fuck, why were you so strong? “Yea and? What, gonna exorcise me? Haha.” “An incubi probably, by the way you were touching me.” You came to that conclusion, not an ounce of emotion present in your voice.
Continuing on as if you didn't hear him, thinking for a second. “I suppose you wanted to feast on me?” He stared at you with a skeptical look, why did you seem so interested? Before he got the chance to ask you, you commented, “I'm sorry that you were born this way, having to rely on such sinful acts to survive.. what a pitiful being.” “What, oh no you are the pitiful thing here, I bet you don't know what pleasure is, all because of some prideful faith. Want me to teach you?” Fyodor said cheekily, grinning as he looked up at you, his knees bend slightly due to the position.
“Don't get me wrong, I don't detest your kind. God has taught us to accept anyone. In fact, i’d be willing to help you, so that you don't need to bother other innocent souls. It's the duty of a priest.” He didn't understand what you were hinting at, for him you were talking garbage. “You aren’t going to seal me or anything?” The demon was genuinely confused, you want to help him? Why? “No need to fear anything, I'm sure you have experience in this field after all.” Next thing he knew you turned him around, his back arching like a crescent moon. “What are you…” suddenly you pulled his pants down, exposing his plum butt. “Huh?! wha-" poor him, that incubus was super confused now, this can't be what he thinks it is right?
Seems like his worries came true, it was what he feared, he knew when he felt your tip press against him. “Hu-huh? Wait a second..! I-I thought you were...” “I've learned many ways to deal with succubus or incubus, don't worry I'm quite experienced too.” Then you entered him, yearning a surprised moan from the male. “Ahh..!” Fingers desperately gripping the wall, looking for anything he can clench onto, eyes looking back and trying to understand the situation. He was getting… topped? By a priest nonetheless??
Him? Up until now he has only ever been on top. What experience, this is his first! Fyodor felt another push from you, the strap slowly driving into him. “You are so tight... ah, what's your name?” “Why do you care, pull it out!” “I'm sorry, I can't do that.” “Why?!” “Because I have to subdue you first, to make you submit.” Your voice was serious as you said that, pushing more of your dick inside him. “UgHh! Slo-slow down...gentle, gentle! Ah, hu-hurts..” the boy whined now, crying softly as his dick twitched in excitement. “Oh? It is your first? Maybe you aren’t as dirty as I thought.” Still using the same emotionless voice as before, you kept unintentionally leave snarky remarks behind. All while your free hand collected the slick around his rim, covering the toy with it.
“So wet already, more than many others of your kind.” Were you mocking him? He wanted to insult you, if only the dick wasn't making his mind go blank. “Ahh...you, I won't-mhm! Fo-forgive you.” “I don't need your forgiveness, only gods.” You said, before starting to move and trust into him. Then you explained, “in order to excuse this sin I had to commit due to your existence, we will have to work hard to beg for forgiveness.” “AhHh! Ah-aHh.ah. Oh-uhh..uhm! Nghh..!” Each trust was paired with whimpers or a moan. Cute squeaking sounds escaped him, face and shoulders flushed red and figure covered in sweat now. His filthy fluids were running down those slim and shaky legs, eyes rolling into the back of his head. What was he doing, didn't he plan on fucking you at first? So how was he getting dicked down now. It was still too hard to comprehend. Yet it felt so good.. it was melting his brain, he has never felt anything this amazing before.
“Such inappropriate noises you are letting out, i guess you are enjoying yourself?” The hand which you used to collect his slick was now on his hips, holding him in place since he kept trying to wriggle his way out, trying to escape those blissful sensations. “Ah..wait..ah-Uhm! This is..no-no good..stop aHh!” He whispered, shortly after tears started rolling down his blushing face. You only picked up your pace, going faster and rutting into him roughly, sometimes you'd brush against his prostate which made him cry out even more. “Ah-aAhhH! OOHh! I'm c-close.. m’gonna cu-cum.” Fyodor breathed out, his entire being quivering in pleasure. This was heaven. Don’t get him wrong, he knew nothing of heaven but this is how he'd imagine paradise to be like. He was filled with pure ecstasy, it was damn addicting and he doesn't think he will ever get over it.
“You have to beg for forgiveness, and to excuse your pathetic self.” You whispered into his ear. Like a spell he couldn’t disobey, he immediately began pleading with.. whom? God? You? Ugh.. to think he had come this low. “AhhHhAA!! ohHh! For-forgive meHHnghh~..!!” His release came in torrents, coursing through his veins and making his legs go weak. He felt so helpless, so exposed and vulnerable with you. And it was the best feeling he has ever experienced, never in his life did he knew something like this was possible. Those noises were filled with desire and longing, loud and clear as he painted the wall white, “aAhHahhhH~!” A shudder ran down his spine, hole clenching down onto you.
The slick was all the way down to his knees now, and he was still lost in subspace. Guess the climax was pretty intense, rendering him to such a whiny mess. You weren't sure if he could understand you, but you tried it anyway. “So, may I inquire the name of you pitiful thing?” There were no answers, only breathy whines and pants. Eventually he gasped out his name meekly, mumbling, “fyo-fyodor…” After blinking a few times, you leaned down to his ear and uttered in a seductive, as well as sadistic voice. This was the first time he heard your tone change. “I'm going to keep you here, so that you wont cause troubles for others. You don’t mind being my pet fyodor, isn’t that right?” And you let go of him after finishing your sentence. Hands leaving his body. Ahh..another shiver travelled down to his core, how could he ever refuse such an enticing offer? Without your help, his legs finally betrayed his body as he crashed down onto the ground. Sitting there looking all ravaged while a sticky white puddle formed beneath him. Fyodor looked at you over his shoulder while panting heavily, tongue hanging out from his blushing face like a dumb little pet.
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Part two
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barcaatthemoon · 4 hours
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be like water || fridlona rolfo x reader ||
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you try to pull away from frido when your feelings become too much to handle.
you didn't think it was possible for you to be so stupid. there had never been a doubt in your mind about following frido and ingrid from wolfsburg to barcelona. they were your best friends, and it made ingrid feel a lot better if she was close enough to really look out for you. what you couldn't believe was how quickly you managed to fall for frido once mapi came into the picture.
in all actuality, you had always had feelings for frido. she was kind, caring, and gorgeous. however, she had always ever spoken about boyfriends. you knew that didn't mean your crush was completely hopeless, but you also had trouble imagining a reality where frido liked you back.
you could think of a million reasons why frido wouldn't have felt the same way about you. there would always be so many things standing in the way of your happy ending. you were fairly certain that frido was straight since she had never shown an interest in any of your other teammates before. if it wasn't that, then the age gap was sure to get you. you had been barely 18 whenever the two of you had met, and it didn't help that ingrid had introduced you as "the baby" of the norweigan team.
'baby norway' was what they had been calling you since your call up to the national team at the tender age of 15. you had been a super sub back then, but it had only taken you a year and a half to become a consistent starter. you'd been blessed with practically no injuries, none that required rehab or surgeries at the very least. however, all of that came crashing down around you at barcelona.
it had started with a little tweak of your ankle during practice. frido cursed herself for not noticing it earlier whenever you went down at the next game. you knew that it wasn't her fault, you had already begun to pull away from her. still, she sat with you in the trainer's room while it got checked out.
"frido, you don't have to stay here," you told her. ingrid was out on the pitch and mapi was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players. you had hoped that frido would have stayed on the pitch, but instead, she had been insistent on coming with you. it was hard for you to avoid your feelings whenever frido openly showed how much she cared for you.
"jona has already subbed me off. am i just supposed to leave you here all by yourself?" frido asked you. you opened your mouth to tell her that was exactly what she should do, but she cut you off first. "don't be ridiculous. you and ingrid were there for me whenever i got hurt. i want to be here for you too."
"frido, please. this is the last thing that i need right now. just, go take a shower and calm down," you said. frido couldn't come up with a reason to argue with you, so she reluctantly left you in the trainer's room. once she was gone, you laid back and took a deep breath. it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest once she was gone, only to be replaced by guilt clawing its way through your throat. frido just wanted to be there for you, but you couldn't get over your stupid feelings for her long enough to let her.
"so, tell me again why i'm the one picking you up from the hospital when i know for a fact that frido asked to do this?" ingrid asked you. she had been around countless times when frido offered to take care of you or escort you from appointment to appointment.
"we haven't gotten to spend much time together lately, and i missed you, that's all." it wasn't a complete lie, but ingrid knew that it wasn't the whole truth either. she pulled down a side street and turned her car off. you couldn't get out on your own, so the two of you were trapped there until ingrid got the truth out of you.
"did something happen between the two of you?" ingrid asked. you shook your head as you pulled your good leg up into the seat in front of you. you rested your head against your knee to keep it turned away from ingrid. "you still love her, don't you?"
"of course i love her, she's my best friend. i came all the way from germany for her, ingrid. i just didn't know that i couldn't be around her alone," you confessed. ingrid paused as she took in your words. you had always been adamant that you came for both of your friends, even if ingrid knew otherwise. she knew all about the secret feelings you kept for frido, just like she knew how conflicted frido felt about you.
"mapi is going to kill me for this, but i want you to stay with me for the next week or so, okay? neither frido nor i want you to be alone, but i won't force you to stay with her if you can't handle it," ingrid told you. you thanked her quietly as she started the car up again and drove off towards her apartment.
she didn't tell you about frido already being at your place. ingrid didn't tell you a lot of things, just like she didn't tell frido anything either. she kept both of your secrets until one of you were ready to come out with it. she wanted to help you desperately, but knew that it wasn't her place to put it all out in the open.
"i don't get it. did i do something?" frido was practically tearing her hair out as she sat on the couch next to ingrid and aitana. your stay with mapi and ingrid had ended over a week ago, but you were still dodging all of frido's texts and calls.
"it's not you, i promise," ingrid reassured the older woman. "the baby just has some things to work out, that's all. this is a difficult time for her, she's going through a lot."
"but why is she pushing me away? i could help her, but she won't let me." tears sprung to frido's eyes. you had always seemed closer with ingrid because of your shared nationality, but it had never been an issue for frido before. "i need a minute."
"frido, wait!" ingrid shouted. frido was standing, but she didn't make a move to leave her place. "let me drive you to (y/n)'s. i think you two realy need to talk."
"she doesn't want anything to do with me. i'm not you, it's okay," frido said. ingrid sighed and pulled frido outside. the drive from your place was pretty short, usually just a ten minute walk.
ingrid felt bad about blindsiding you, but this conversation couldn't wait any longer. both you and frido were tearing yourselves apart trying to navigate feelings and your friendship. ingrid knew how easy it could be for both of you, and that was all she wanted. she just wanted her friends to be happy, even if the thought of making a move terrified the both of them.
you hadn't expected any visitors, so ingrid and frido's arrival had taken you by surprise. ingrid shoving frido through your front door and closing it for you was an even bigger one. ingrid knew practically everything, and yet, here she was forcing you to be alone with the person who had been giving you so much grief for the past few months.
"i think we need to talk, but i don't know what to say to you," you told frido. you hobbled over to your couch and sat down. frido just stood in front of you and paced around your living room. "fridolina, calm down."
"no, i can't. i am sick and tired of being calm about this. you've got me worried sick. i care about you so much, and i want to help you through whatever this is, but you won't let me. i know that i'm not ingrid, and i'm sorry, but fuck! let me help you." frido's voice grew as she spoke, but she never really got close to shouting at you. "talk to me, please. i miss the way things were in germany, it felt so much easier back then."
"trust me, it was never any easier. we just weren't alone back then like we are now," you told her. frido glanced down at you, a look of confusion on her face. "i don't want you to be ingrid, frido. i love you for you, and that's the problem."
"your problem is that you love me?" frido asked you. you nodded, unable to look up and meet her gaze. you kept your eyes down as you felt her approach you. the couch dipped down as frido sat down next to you. you shuddered when her arm wrapped around you, even though you had been craving her affection since you started to distance yourself. "look at me, (y/n), please."
"i can't," you whispered. frido sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead. "i can't do this. i have to talk to jona. i have to go back to wolfsburg or just somewhere else."
"don't run away from your feelings. just look at me, please," frido pleaded with you. she was on the verge of getting on her knees and begging you to look at her. you didn't know why, but something in her voice compelled you to go against your instincts.
your eyes met tearful blue ones, and you nearly broke because of it. frido gently caressed your cheek, rubbing her thumb along your cheekbone as she stared at you. there was no disgust or pity in frido's eyes, which caught you by surprise. all you could see was relief. your friendship didn't implode on the spot because of your admission, which filled you with a relief that you couldn't even begin to describe.
"i love you too," frido told you. she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against yours. her eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes again. "can i kiss you?"
frido barely managed to finish her sentence before you were lurching forward. she caught your body in her arms, allowing for you to practically lay on top of her as the two of your lips met in a passionate kiss. frido began to push you back a bit to catch her breath. you let out a whine as her lips moved off of yours.
"i've wanted this for so long that i don't ever want to stop," you said quietly. frido smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "i thought you'd hate me if i told you how i felt. i had tried for so long to be cool and casual, but i couldn't. the more time we spent here without ingrid, the harder it became."
"i wish that you had told me how you felt, but i am not sure that i would have accepted it at first. i think we were both going through something, but that's over now. we have each other, and if you're willing to give me a chance, i'd like to see where this goes." frido's words made your heart swell a little with happiness. it was an odd feeling, finally having your feelings reciprocated. you didn't know what to do with yourself. you didn't know where things were going, but you hoped that they flowed as easily and naturally as your friendship with her had.
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myojinn-boo · 18 hours
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You'll Be Safe Here - Sukuna Ryomen
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You'll Be Safe Here ... Oneshot fanfic Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x reader tags: Heian Era!Sukuna, soft!Sukuna, fluffy fluff, bit of angst, hurt to comfort summary: Sukuna never knew he was lonely until he met you—until you made him feel that the way he lived before was empty. Now that you're bloodied and beaten, there was no way he'd let you slip away from him. He'll always protect his love. a/n: I'm a sucker for soft!Sukuna. Also this song just inspired me SO MUCH. Listen to it while reading. I promise it makes the experience better. The song <3
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Nobody knows, just why we're here Could it be fate or random circumstance At the right place, at the right time Two roads intertwine
Sukuna never believed in anything silly like fate. He found the idea too ridiculous. Things happen for a reason, yes. But the reasons were always practical.
Like when it came to you You didn't stay with him for this long because you're his other half, or because you're connected by some red string, or God forbid, because you're soulmates. He figured you stayed with him out of pure loyalty because he has proven himself time and time again to be worthy of such devotion—yours and many others'.
And it's not like you have a choice. You were a cursed spirit, a powerful one. People called out your name when they wished for the demise of others. They would pray to you and offer items at your shrine in hopes that you'd grant their twisted wishes. However, you did not only exist for that reason. You were a curse of balance. Not of death—regardless of what others may have assumed.
You hunted down beings with dwindling cursed energy and killed them, so that the energy may return back to nature and circulate again just how nature intended. But you also hunted down anything you deemed too strong to exist in this balanced world of yours. Good or bad sorcerers were all equal in your view. If they were too strong for your liking, you put them six feet under... ten if you were feeling it.
Meeting Sukuna quickly proved that you might not be the strongest in the land. Rather than being irked that a cocky sorcerer like him was stronger than the revered curse of balance, you admired his strength. You were too prideful to admit it at the time, but you swore your loyalty to this man.
So, as a detestable curse living in such an isolated era, you had no choice but to only have him around. Well, it was more of him having you around.
But still, you weren't like his other servants. In fact, you think you'd explode if people started thinking you were some mere servant. Sure, you offered your life to him, but that doesn't mean you were someone to be ordered around. You stuck around just for fun... as friends as they would call it.
Sukuna didn't see the importance of "friends" especially if they served no purpose to him. But for some reason, he let you stay. Even though you were at his shrine mostly to annoy him—he let you stay. He told himself that he does so because your strength and devotion may come handy later on.
But decades have passed and he still hasn't 'put your skills to use' for his benefit. So, really, why was he keeping you around?
He didn't know either.
And if the universe conspired To meld our lives, to make us, fuel and fire Then know wherever you will be So too, shall I'll be
Sukuna sat at his throne, as per usual. One set of arms crossed, 3rd arm lazily resting on the chair, and the 4th arm supporting his head with a fist—just like how he enjoyed his throne time.
He started to lightly thrum his fingers against the metallic material of his throne chair. He always had a bored expression when he sat here and normally it would be because he was busy thinking. But right now, he was genuinely bored.
He thought he was going to start convulsing and vomiting blood because his mind started wandering over to you, what you could be doing at the moment and why you weren't here at his shrine bothering him like usual. It's not like you have anything else important to do besides being at his shrine.
He had the image of your annoyingly wide grin burned into his mind. He could even hear your voice in his head as you asked, "whatcha thinkin' 'bout, 'Kuna?" for the hundredth time. Each time he'd only respond with a 'tsk' but you'd keep pestering him like it was your life's purpose. He'd always act indifferent to your insistent blabbering and questions, but he tolerated it for reasons he didn't know.
He felt like punching himself in the face for even thinking that way about you. But he'd rather not disrespect himself like that. Any form of insolence, even from himself, wasn't welcome to him.
Truth be told, he was starting to think you were stronger than him. Who on God's green earth would even have the power to make him, the strongest sorcerer, think of stupid things. The hold you had over him was just insane.
You were incredibly strong, that much he would admit. So he'd never think that you'd ever get seriously hurt.
"My Lord!" A servant barged into his throne room. Such a foolish act will not go unpunished by him. He ought to—
"The Lady's shrine has been stormed! She's in a dire situation!" Suddenly, thoughts of slicing this brat's head off vanished. You were hurt? But how? If this is some kind of joke, slicing is the least painful thing this brat will ever experience.
"And you know this how?" He asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.
The servant was trembling at this point—both due to Sukuna's intimidating gaze and the fact that the Lady could most likely be breathing her last breaths right now. "One of her servants who managed to escape was able to make her way here. She could barely utter what happened. But she was asking for your help, my Lord." He spoke, almost wheezing as he did. The servant tried catching his breath. "It seems that the sorcerers hunting her were incredibly strong and plentiful..." Sukuna thought and thought and thought—until he couldn't. It slowly sank in that you were hurt. That you may actually need his help. The insolent brat second only to him in power was actually in pain at this very moment. He let out 'tsk'.
Part of him was disappointed because you'd use him to your advantage before he could do so to you. But his current indifference was just his way of hiding what he truly felt.
He wasn't looking forward to see what your shrine might hold.
Close your eyes, dry your tears 'Cause when nothing seems clear You'll be safe here from the sheer weight Of your doubts and fears Weary heart, you'll be safe here
He simply walked out of his throne room, not bothering to address his servant's troubled expression. The only thing on his mind as he made his way to your shrine was that image of you smiling at him. His body moved on its own as it knew the way to your shrine like the back of his hand. It gave him time to think about you—without the carnage and violence that he might end up seeing you with in just a few minutes.
Again, he wanted to punch himself for thinking that way. There was just no way you'd be hurt. He reasoned that maybe your servant was being overly dramatic. After all, you tend to be overdramatic as well. It would come as no surprise if you had rubbed it off on your servants. Right?
Right?
He placed his large palm against the red doors of your shrine. It was at this moment, he realized that he rarely came to visit you here. A thought crossed his mind—a thought of regret that maybe he should have come here more often. But never mind that. Sukuna was sure that behind these doors, you'd be standing above the bodies of the fallen sorcerers with that same wicked smile on your face. You'd laugh and greet him with your annoying voice, then you'll come running up to him and smear him with the blood on your hands just to piss him off.
He'd much rather clean his pristine white robes of blood than to see you hurt.
He pushed the doors open... and at least part of his imagination was correct—there were bodies of the fallen sorcerers on the floor, but you were nowhere to be seen. He knew it. You were strong. The sorcerers you defeated were just proof of that. Now he just needed to find you and perhaps listen to your tale of how you managed to beat a large group of assailants.
But his hope was quickly vanquished as he scanned the room. Cast off to the side was you... beaten up, bloodied, and hanging on for dear life. You were slumped against the wall with your face looking down at your lap. You barely had any strength left to even lift your head to see who this new presence was.
Was it another wave of sorcerers out for your head? You could care less at this point. The state you were in made you feel weak. And the weak do not deserve a spot beside Sukuna. And knowing that, you didn't have much of a purpose anymore.
You thought you lived for balance—to hunt down anything you didn't deem to be healthy for the balance of the world. But after meeting Sukuna, you realized that your purpose was to keep him company. He was strong, but even the strong need a companion. You assumed that position because you figured Sukuna only deserved to have the strongest by his side. No more (as if that was possible) and no less.
As your consciousness faded in and out, you felt the presence walk closer to you. His overwhelming aura was standing in front of you in all of its glory. You knew... you just knew it was Sukuna. You detested yourself for allowing him to see you in such a state.
"Just end me..." you whispered softly. He crouched down. He would never do that just for anyone. If he didn't hear what you said, you expected he'd make you stand up. But the great Sukuna lowered himself for you. "Just end me, Sukuna," you repeated.
'Sukuna'? What ever happened to you calling him 'Kuna? He heard you the first time. And he lowered himself because he wanted to see what kind of expression you had while you said such an outrageous thing. End you? As if.
"And why the hell would I end you?" He asked coldly. Emotions were high at the moment. Maybe he should have been gentler. Maybe he should have asked if you were okay first. But what you said put him further into a spiral. "I'm weak. And I can't forgive myself for letting you see me in such a laughable state..." you managed to mutter.
Laughable? He grabbed your jaw harshly with his big hand and forced you to look him in the eye. Your once bright eyes were now dull and you could barely keep them open. The sight aggravated him. "How dare you ask me such a thing, brat." He wasn't mad at you. He was mad at the people who did this to you.
But he soon realized his actions could be misinterpreted. He let go of your jaw. But before your head could hang low again, two hands cupped your face to support you. His unexpected actions stirred something within you.
You felt tears threatening to pour out. Fuck. You were already bloodied and beaten, so the last thing you'd want is to cry like a loser. You bit your bottom lip as hard as you can just to stop the onslaught of tears. You were sure that you drew blood. But even that didn't stop the salty tears that relentlessly rolled down your swollen cheeks.
"Don't look at me. Please," you choked out in between sobs. He felt the warm tears touch his thumbs and trickle down his palms. He felt an odd pang in his heart. He had never felt this way before...
So this is what they call pain.
Remember how we laughed until we cried At the most stupid things like We were so high But love was all that we were on, we belong And though the world would never understand This unlikely union and why it still stands Someday, we will be set free Pray and believe
His thumbs swiped away the fat tears on your face. Even though your vision was blurry, you could tell that the once stoic expression had softened. He wasn't mad? That fact had managed to stop your tears somehow.
"This expression doesn't suit you at all. Where's your stupid smile?" He asked softly. You had no idea that he could sound like this. You wanted to laugh, but everything hurt. You thought that if you moved even a little, your rib would pierce something.
So you just smiled.
"There it is." He tried smiling back. Even Sukuna couldn't imagine he'd be acting like this in front of anyone, but that didn't matter at the moment. He wanted to see you smile again and he did. That's all he cared about right now.
To hell with it, you thought. Every single fiber of your being was hurting right now. But you forced your arms to wrap around him. You yelped as you did. But there was no way you would let this opportunity slip away. With the miniscule amount of strength you had left, you embraced him. You conveyed your devotion to him with your warmth. "Thank you for being here," you managed to squeak out. Your voice was weak and strangled. Breathing became a lot harder. You guess that you did pierce something while trying to hug him.
Even if he didn't return the gesture, you were just glad that you were able to—
But he did. He returned the gesture. He embraced you too. Your head fell slack into the crook of his neck. All four of his arms caged you in protectively. He held you like he never wanted you to go.
In all of his lonely existence, you were the only one who kept him company. His indifference and violent nature was sure to scare off anyone. But not you. You were just like him—a few screws loose, cocky, and powerful. But you had something that he didn't. You held all the warmth in the world—warmth that he had never felt before.
He finally realized why he had kept you around. The question that kept plaguing his mind was answered at last.
He needed you. Not because you were going to come in handy later. You weren't some utilitarian existence to him. He needed you because you make him feel alive.
The reason why your face would pop up in his mind at the most random times was because it was his way of keeping himself going. Knowing your voice to a T was his way of keeping himself sane. The reason why he held you so tightly right now was because he loved you.
He doesn't know what love is. But maybe it was just right to describe what he feels.
And he hated that he had to see the light of his life be hurt like this before he could realize that.
It felt like an eternity—just the two of you in a longing embrace. Now that you and he have calmed down. He was thinking rationally again. He could use RCT and bring you to his shrine where you'd live safely forever under his gaze; his servants serving you at your every whim and—
"There are more..."
Your whisper tickled his ear. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't hear the commotion outside. It seems like there were more sorcerers here to finish the job.
He pulled away from your embrace. Gently, he let you lean against the wall again—making sure you were supported somehow. Then he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.
He'll handle the rest. He won't let them get to you. He promises that.
When the light disappears And when this world's insincere You'll be safe here When nobody hears you scream I'll scream with you...
"You'll be safe here."
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myojin-boo©2024
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railingsofsorrow · 18 hours
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we'll be alright
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader
w.c: 2.4K
warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.
A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.
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masterpost
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“what are you doing?”
“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”
you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.
“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”
“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”
“have you told him?”
“no.”
her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.
“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.
seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.
“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”
you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.
“thanks, jayge,” you say.
jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.
“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.
“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.
he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.
you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”
“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.
“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”
“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”
you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”
“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”
a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.
“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”
“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.
“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”
your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.
you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.
“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.
“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.
“you said I can't.”
“you're correcting my misspellings now?”
spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.
“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.
he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.
“are you okay?”
silence. and then,
“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.
“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”
“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”
“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”
you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”
“and I don't believe you.”
somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.
“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.
spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.
“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”
“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”
“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.
“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.
“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”
“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.
he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?
spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.
he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.
he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.
it's actually the opposite.
“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.
“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”
letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”
he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”
“are you mad?”
he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”
you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”
spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”
your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.
“what?” he nudges your nose with his.
“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.
“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”
you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.
spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj
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ham1lton · 2 days
Text
TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.
— part of my maneater series.
Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.
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Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.
NUMBER ONE: IPAD
Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.
NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES
Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i’m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.
NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.
Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!
OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?
Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!
NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG
Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.
NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.
Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.
OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?
Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!
NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS
Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.
NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.
Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.
NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD
Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.
NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE
Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.
NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE
Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.
(she fastens it around her neck quickly)
Y/N: now i feel normal again.
NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS
Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.
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author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!
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leviismybby · 5 hours
Text
Cat and Mouse
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Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, mdni, nsfw 18+, fingering
Levi's eyes scan the rooftops, he can hear you, hear your footsteps. He launches his gear at the nearby building wall and steps on the rooftop, spotting your figure he hides behind a wall and waits for you to pass by. This time, he won't let you off the hook easily, you were gonna rush past him but Levi surprises you, spins you around and pushes you against the cold surface harshly. You grunt as your back hits the concrete, your eyes narrow immediately before they meet his grey ones. He will never learn.
"Captain." That sarcasm in your voice isn't something Levi appreciated, he jas had enough of your games. Before he speaks, he pins your hands above your head, last time you pulled a stunt, he isn't letting that happen again. "What the fuck is your problem?" You know why he is mad, you've caused him quiet the trouble, not that you regret it. "My problem? I don't have one. You clearly do." A brat, you were such a brat and he couldn't fathom what keeps him so infatuated with you. Maybe it's the fact that you're a thief that the MPs can't seem to catch or maybe is the fact that you outsmarted him both time he caught you. Either way, Levi wants it to stop.
"You have to stop. The military police will get a bounty on that shitty head of yours. You fucked it up badly this time." He was right, you did fuck it up, stealing from the Garrison just for the thrill of it. If Levi didn't know any better, he would say that you're crazy, than again, he isn't exactly normal either and he is the last person to judge you given his past as a thug. "Aww, thanks for caring, I don't care." You try to stir out of his grip and he only tightens it, keeping you still. "You're fucking insufferable you know that?" It was true, you were an annoyance for him, he had better things to do than to chase a petty thief around Trost but there was something about you that kept him coming back. He hated himself for always giving in.
"I can only say the same, Captain. Why do you care so much?" You roll your eyes, trying to find a way out of his grip but nothing seems to come to mind. He is too close to you, you can feel his breath on your cheek, this is getting dangerous. "I don't dammit. I will be the first to celebrate when your ass gets thrown in jail." Maybe he should do it, bring you in and let the militray police do as they please with you but his inner turmoil isn't letting him, he hates to admit it but he enjoys this, the chase and the games between you. His comrads would be disappointed if they knew, he knows your face, knows how you work so why doesn't he just report you? It's a problem that he can't slove tonight.
You don't say anything, the words coming out of his mouth were harsh but true, you did keep him on his feet and you enjoyed the attention. "So report me. Or is your ego not letting you." He hides things well behind that indifferent expression but his eyes tell you a different story, there is hate there, of course there is, you two hold mutual hatred for on e another however there is desire there too, it shouldn't be. It really shouldn't. Levi scoffs at your words, his fingers wrap around your neck and he squeezes, his other hand still firmly holding your wrist together. "You're the egotist one here. You and your shitty criminal jobs. How much money did you earn by selling sealed information huh? What is your game here?" That was his main problem, you stole from the survey corps too and he doesn't appreciate it one bit.
His fingers squeeze your throat again, he wants you to answer but he won't approve if you lie to him. "Enough and I enjoy the chase. Noel matter how big or minor my crime is, you always comr running after me. Why is that captain?" Now there is a question he wants answer at least not with words. Hos face inches closer to you, your noses touching. "Fucking annoying brat." You smirk, your eyes drifting to his lips, will he finally do it or will he run away from it like all those other times? You don't move away or lean in, you simply wait, eager to feel his lips agsint yours.
And just like that, a groan leaves his lips, his hand moving down to your hip and his lips crashing agsint yours. Returning the kiss immediately, you feel his grip on your wrist loosen and insted he interlocks his fingers with yours, his kiss getting more passionate. You let your hand fall to his hair, pulling him into the kiss even more, his body presses up agsint yours, the heat between you making a shiver run down your spine. You moan as his hand moves to your ass and he squeezes, loving the sounds that are leaving your mouth. He needs to hear more and he plans too. His grip gets more and more possessive, his hands start to roam your body, feeling your every curve. You can't go all the way put here, both of you know that but Levi is letting his desire for you cloud his judgement and he can't keep his hands off of you even out here.
The two of you keep kissing for some time until Levi pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to each other. Levi's eyes look you up and down, he wants to fuck you here and now but it's too risky, so he will simply have to do something else. His mouth starts kissing your neck, each kiss more sloppy than the other, you throw your head back, giving him more space, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. A gasp leaves your swollen lips when he bites into your skin leaving marks behind. "You smell so fucking good." He says against your skin before biting again, this time he hits your sweet spot directly, making a shiver run down your spine. You grab onto his shoulders, your body pulling it self closer to his. "Desperate are you? Fucking brat." He turns you around, your hands on the cold wall, he bucks your hips sligthy and gives your ass a firm slap, fuck the things he would do to you.
He lands another slap on your ass, his body pressing fully into yours, you can feel how hard he is for you. You bite your lip and reach out for his bulge but he slaps your hand away. "No. Keep your fucking hands on the wall understood?" You nod at his words, as much you want to talk back to him, you don't want to ruin this moment so you keep quiet and listen to what he says. You keep your hands on the wall feeling his run up and down your sides before the reach your pants. His hand slides in and you gasp at his cold fingers as they reach your core, he rubs you over your panties making soft moans come put of you. "Wet aren't you? Is this waht this whole thing is about? You want me to fuck you don't you?" Bingo, thats exactly what this whole thing is about, him finally breaching his breaking point and taking you.
Your hips buck into his hands, you want more. Levi chuckles, sending another shiver down your body, this is the first time you hear him chuckle and it's making you feel things. "Yeah? Oh you would love to have my cock deep inside of you right now. Too bad you're not getting it." He nibbles on your ear as he says that, his voice horase and rough, he is turned on beyond belief. He starts to rub you again, feeling the way the fabric of your panties is getting wet, you're phehetic, acting all though while all it took is a single touch for him to get you under his control, you melt so easily, he will indulge in that. Finally his fingers slip into your underwear and feels your pussy, his fingers runs down your slit, feeling your slick and walls, you're so wet for him, fuck he really is in trouble.
He kisses your shoulder, his fingers finding your clit, you thighs close against his hand, whimpers escape your mouth. "How cute. You're phehetic, so fucking easy to break." His fingers enters you without warning, it starts of slow, he loves teasing you but as soon as he feels your warm walls clench around his finger, he starts to finger you faster. "Fuck Levi." You say, your hands steady on the wall, he knows what he is doing. As soon as you said that, he adds a second finger keeping the fast pace, your eyes start to water as he curls them hitting that soft spot. He keeps pumping his fingers in and put of you, your actions are getting him more drunk, he loves how your body shakes just from him fingering you. He needs to control himself or else his cock will be buried deep inside of you and he can't afford that.
The more you react, the faster his pace gets, you forget completely where you are. That people can see and hear you but that's the last of your worries right now. You have Levi, the captain of the survey corps, humanity's strongest soldier fingering you on top of a building. This isn't how you wanted your afternoon to go but its far better than you ever imagined. His fingers keep moving inside of you, his other hand runs under your shirt and he grabs your breast, massaging it in his hands. "Are you gonna cum for me out here?" That makes your pussy clench aagsint his fingers again, you're getting close, that pit in your stomach starts to build up but you're not queit there yet. Levi knows how to push you over the edge, his thumb adds pressure on your clit and he keeps fingering you in a fast pace, the moan that leavs you is something you should be ashamed of, oh someone definitely heard you now, not that you care. "That's it. Good girl, cum for me, let me see you fall apart."
You can't keep your hands on the wall anymore, your grabs onto his arm with both of your hands, digging your nails into his shirt as you cum. You roll your hips, riding out of your orgsam against his fingers, he keeps them inside of you even after you cum. You catch your breath, your head falling back on his shoulder, he kisses the side of your face, he removes his hand from your underwear, his fingers are soaked. "Took about two fucking minutes to make you cum. Aren't you embarrassed?" He asks you as you open your eyes, your cheeks flushed, his hand is still on your breast and he squeezes it once more before letting go and setting both of his hands on your hips. He kisses you on the lips again, the kiss is quick and sloppy.
Eventually, Levi pulls away from you, cleaning his fingers with his cloth. You turn back around, leaning against the wall. The sun is starting to set and you don't know what to say. Levi looks your way again, he fixes his gear. "Stay out out trouble or next time I am fucking you on the wall for all to see. Understood?" That makes you laugh, he had a way with words but you wouldn't mind at all. "Oh captain my captain, if that will be the outcome, I will be gladly robbing the bank next." Your words make his eyes roll, you really were a brat. You fic yourself, fix your hair and look at him again. "See you around, Captain." You wink and get off the rooftop. Levi is left there, staring at the distance until he realised something, his wallet was missing. Damn you.
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yuri-is-online · 3 days
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Head up this ask is kinda weird.
So do you think people wear perfume in omegaverse AUs 😀? Because the fact that everyone already has scents, perfume has to kind if clash with it right? Maybe some people use light perfumes to enhance their scents, and then those "Alpha Male" (omg that just gets a whole other meaning) podcast bros call it catfishing.
Would perfume even exist in the first place? I don't really see a purpose for perfume if everyone already has a scent... but bro imagine Yuu (who isn't from an a/b/o world and is getting really confused as to what the fuck an omega is and cringes every time of the guys calls themselves an alpha. Meanwhile everyone else is trying to figure out why this weirdo doesn't even have the slightest sent. Especially jade becuase I'm on that JadeYuu shit rn) that wears perfume or cologne trying to get more. And when they can't find any at Sam's they just try to fucking make it. I mean it's a little weak smelling and some of the notes don't exactly go with the others but hey! They have something to spritz now! :)
And now their friends are doing double takes because bro you did not smell like that last night. Also it smells artificial and it's weirding them out
Anyways I sincerely apologize for making you read that.
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oh no you don't go apologizing for this confused, a/b/o is a guilty pleasure of mine (also i am doing concept drawings for asmodeaus rn. the timing of this ask made me laugh real hard) This isn't a smutty ask, but just so all of you know, I am good with those since I need the practice with suggestive stuff. I just won't be very good at it for a bit.
Anyway. I have never actually thought about this, but I have always sort of thought of scents in abo worlds to be a very instinctual thing that no amount of perfume can cover up. I don't know if you've ever encountered a scent you can taste but I have, a light in the room of a pool I was swimming in went out and let out a smoke so foul you could still feel it on your tongue and in your lungs when you pinched your nose. It was beyond overwhelming. That doesn't mean there's any less of a reason for perfumes to exist though, as I talked about in that post about Rollo's handkerchief in the past disease was thought to have been spread through foul smelling odors and bad air. If anything I could see that being an even bigger superstition in an abo world where scent is already super important. I could see people trying to make scents that complimented their natural one, maybe it could even be a courting ritual for an Alpha to give an Omega they are interested in a perfume they've made that compliments their smell and has notes of their own... Oh! Or working in notes of their scent to their own perfume to indicate interest!
a-twistedheartslonging mentioned in their tags on that post about Jade's scent that Morays use scents to attract a mate, so if you take that idea about perfume being a courting step I could see Jade just being so distraught that his beloved pearl has no discernible scent. And what's worse they keep changing what little scent they do have! What's he supposed to do with that huh? I think he'd be the only one excited by Yuu making their own perfume because it gives him an excuse to talk about the scents that Yuu likes and what perfumes are like in their world. Maybe they could make a perfume together next time (⚈_⚈)? Oh haha he's just thinking out loud he knows you aren't close enough for that ye- Oh you... you would like that? You think he smells nice and you want to know what sort of perfume or cologne he uses?
(he'd get so delulu so fast if you said that. sure Yuu you can smell just like him c: just let him dim the lights a bit first he hears that's important c: just remember to be gentle with him ok???)
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fallenclan · 2 days
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RAVENSTAR’S APOLOGY
A fic by buttercup-unlimited :3
Author’s note: Here’s me drabbling for a while. Sorry if I get any lore/pronouns wrong, I’m trying my hardest but I am very tired 😭
The cave was vast and looming, the cracked rock face seeming to climb endlessly into the inky blackness above. A single word could echo dozens of times around these walls, spreading like a whispered rumour into the ear of another. The air hung heavy with bitter cold and silence, spare the eerie rustling of shrubbery from the clearing and the occasional warning call of a nearby bird.
Leaders of Fallenclan’s past only ever tended to use part of the intimidating space as a sleeping den, preferring to make their nests in a smaller corner and keep warmth in for as long as they could. Goldenstar infamously allowed kits to play in the space he left unused, simply stating that whatever was his, was the clan’s. Even Maplestar picked merely a decent chasm to curl up into, never needing anything more. Every leader that had come before, in fact, hadn’t dared to flaunt such a cathedral all for themselves.
But Ravenstar was nothing like the leaders that had come before. No, he was stronger. Smarter. Shrewder. Grander. The day that he had received his nine lives, Ravenstar had returned to camp to make a very deliberate show of slowly building his nest, twig by twig, in the very centre of the den. A statement, if you will, the marking of what was very clearly now his territory. His eyes had glowed in a strange sort of way that day. Forebodingly. If you looked close enough, you just might have seen the rush of power going straight to Ravenstar’s head. Leadership had that effect on some cats.
Littleleaf had been there. Every day, since they were born, Littleleaf had been by Ravenstar’s side. He had watched him through his apprenticeship, arguing with his mentor at even the most trivial of things. Older cats would often say that he was a strong-willed fellow, well suited for a powerful position one day. If only they had known who he would become.
Ravenstar had lost everything except Littleleaf. The two brothers were the only thing tying one another to reality, saving each other from fluttering away in the breeze—like a leaf under a rock, safe…and yet stifled.
“Ravenstar?”
Even the name bore a sense of importance, of tension. Littleleaf regretted the call as soon as he had uttered it, not helped by the constant repeat of his word as it travelled up the gossiping walls of the cave. He felt so small, so insignificant, in this place. Something about its legacy was an all-too-cruel reminder of the fleeting nature of existence—Littleleaf almost felt as if he could drop dead right there, on the ground, and it would only be a flashing moment in time.
He took a few tentative steps forward, careful not too make too much noise on the cold stone floor. Most of the den was hidden in shadow, daring any cat who wasn’t Ravenstar to even attempt to venture further.
“Do you have any time to talk? I have some news…” Littleleaf tried again, cringing at how easy it was to boom in these chambers.
“News? This should be interesting.” A voice drawled from behind him, causing Littleleaf to flinch as he turned. Ravenstar had perched himself on a jutted-out rock somewhere high up the wall, his tail tucked neatly over his paws as he observed.
“Oh, hello. You frightened me, brother.” Littleleaf chuckled nervously. Something about their relationship, usually so close and easy, had felt strained as of recently. It was no longer so easy to approach Ravenstar.
The Fallenclan leader smiled, eyes glinting maliciously. His black pelt blended in perfectly with the shadows of the rock face, almost like they had belonged here all along. This was Ravenstar’s home now, and there could be no dispute about that.
“Sincerest apologies. I’m waiting…?” The leader mewed coolly. It was clear that he had no time for small talk, not even with his kin.
“Right. Of course. Well, we weren’t sure when to tell you, but…here we go.” Littleleaf took a deep breath. It was awkward, trying to give news to someone several feet above you. “Moorthistle is expecting kits. You’re going to be an uncle.”
Boom.
A million thoughts seemed to rush through Ravenstar’s head all at once. The coolly composed tomcat, usually so calm and purposeful in his mannerisms, seemed to struggle to maintain his balance from his vantage point as he took in the news. His facade flickered, just enough for Littleleaf to notice, and for a second or two Ravenstar was just a confused young tom again.
“Kits.” Ravenstar repeated, bright eyes darting to just about every corner of the den. “Kits, belonging to you and to Moorthistle. In Fallenclan.”
Littleleaf nodded distractedly, craning his neck to get a better look at his brother. “Yes, I…are you alright, Ravenstar? You look rather shocked.”
Ravenstar seemed to snap back to attention all of a sudden, jolted back to life by the attention of his brother, momentary crisis over as soon as it had began. He straightened his neck, focused his gaze and gave his chest a few calming licks, whispering something inaudible to himself.
“Yes.” Ravenstar eventually replied, keeping his answers concise and dry—he was back to normal, indeed. “I’m fine thank you, brother. I was taken by surprise, is all.”
Littleleaf nodded. “Alright, then.”
There seemed to be eons of silence between the brothers, both unsure of what to say next. When did it become so hard to conversate?
It was only when Littleleaf seemed to be on the verge of turning and leaving that Ravenstar spoke again, blurting words in a hurry as if in an attempt to make him stay.
“This is very good news, Littleleaf.” He mewed loudly. “More kin for you and I. More kits for Fallenclan. I’m sure…I’m sure that they will grow up to be fine warriors. May Starclan bless you.”
Littleleaf knew the words were intended for comfort, but all he could find within himself to feel was hurt. Why was his brother, so high and mighty now on his pretentious throne of rock, speaking to him as if he were any other old aquaintance?
“Why do you hold me so far from your heart, brother?” Littleleaf asked before he could stop himself. He wished that he had stayed silent, seeing Ravenstar’s false smile drop. The last thing he needed for himself and Moorthistle was tension with the leader of their clan.
Ravenstar narrowed his glowing eyes, looking bemused at best. “What exactly do you mean?”
Littleleaf shook his head, suddenly feeling very warm under the roasting heat of Ravenstar’s gaze. “I didn’t mean anything. I was just thinking out loud, really, don’t listen to me…”
Ravenstar did not look convinced. As if deciding something to himself, the sleek black tom began to leap nimbly down to meet his brother on the cave floor. Was he going to berate him? Banish him? …Hug him? Littleleaf wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.
They stood face to face for the first time in what felt like moons. Equal, it appeared, if only for a moment in time. Littleleaf often forgot that he was larger than his brother—because, in so many other ways, he was not.
“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Littleleaf apologised, trying to back out of the hole he had dug himself into. He had never believed Ravenstar guilty of the crimes some suggested he had committed, but he didn’t intend on finding out if the accusations were truthful tonight.
“No. I’m the one who should apologise.” Ravenstar insisted suddenly, taking Littleleaf by surprise. “I… am sorry, brother. “
Littleleaf practically sputtered. This was the first time he had ever been apologised to by his brother, and most probably the last. He felt that the occasion should become an annual celebration.
“I know I have been distant, as of late. Partly because of my new duties, but also…” Ravenstar let out a laboured sigh, full of tension and grief that Littleleaf didn’t even know he possessed. “I care very much for you. More than you know. But it’s difficult for me. I see so much of them…in you.”
Littleleaf didn’t need to ask who his brother was referring to. “I see them, too. Everywhere.” He half-whispered.
Ravenstar held up a tail to silence his brother—an old leader tactic used to indicate that he was not yet finished saying his peace.
“I wanted to protect you. Show you how strong I could be on my own. I wanted to be the best I could be for you, Littleleaf. I am sorry if this meant sacrificing the time we used to spend together.” Ravenstar confessed. It was clearly difficult for the leader to talk about his feelings for such a prolonged period of time.
Littleleaf stroked his tail along his brother’s back comfortingly, the way he had when they were kits. “Thank you.” He murmured.
Ravenstar inclined his head. “I am happy for you, Littleleaf. You will make a great father. And perhaps…perhaps I will make a great uncle.”
Littleleaf wasn’t sure what to say. Was there anything he could say?
Perhaps, in this fleeting moment in time, all Ravenstar needed was a shoulder to lean on.
(Beetle note: THIS IS SO GOOD!!!! i love the exploration of Raven and Little's relationship,,, its so awesome)
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aita-blorbos · 3 days
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AITA for lying to save my own life?
I (21M) was born with magic powers in a village near a kingdom in which magic is outlawed. Apparently, I’m some long foretold sorcerer with a destiny to protect that kingdom’s prince.
Anyway, I can’t NOT use magic, but also, I HAD to move to that kingdom. Partially because the guy who is teaching me how to control my powers is there, but also because of destiny, apparently.
Yeah. It’s a long story. I found out through a dragon. I have a stupid destiny. But I digress.
I haaated the prince at first, but I’ve really grown to like him and he trusts me a lot. I’m technically his servant, but he lets me get away with a lot and brings me with him into battle. I save his life using magic behind his back, but since, remember, he’s sorta the prince of illegal magic kingdom, I can’t tell him I have magic or he will literally have to kill me!!
Anyway, he’s king now, and I’ve actually had to enchant him before to get him to make the right choice in a battle against his evil half sister. I didn’t feel good about taking away his free will, but he didn’t fully understand the situation. Then again, he couldn’t understand the situation because I refused to tell him. Then again, I refused to tell him because it would involve ADMITTING TO TREASON and GETTING MY HEAD CHOPPED OFF.
I really don’t want my head chopped off.
And I mean, he’s my friend. I like to think he wouldn’t chop off my head.
But I don’t want to make him choose between me and the law—and we are diametrically opposed.
It’s my destiny to protect him, but I don’t only do it because of that. I do it because I care about him, and I couldn’t bear to lose him, and he’s an IDIOT who keeps almost dying, so it’s a good thing he’s got me.
But protecting him involves breaking the law. Hence I must constantly lie to my friend and king, hiding from him a part of myself so innate that I couldn’t get rid of it if I tried. I AM a sorcerer. This fact cannot be erased. It does make me a walking crime though.
I don’t know.
I feel bad for lying, but not for protecting him. And I don’t see any other choice.
AITA?
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nexa00x · 1 day
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Hellooo, this is a Tokyo Rev ask and I was really interested in the Mikey post u made abt him as a bf realistically since canonically he’s one of the top worst. So i was wondering, what do you think of Keisuke Baji taking number 1 place as best lover? 👀
Hello! Baji is an angel despite his wild personality. I see him as a watchdog, like in that panel in the last timeline when Takemichi meets Mikey and acts like a puppy. He's not interested in a relationship right now, but that doesn't mean he's immune to falling in love or anything.
After doing this, he probably be that guy who stands silently next to his crush in class while blushing, but his scary face makes your subconscious ignore that he's turning red as a tomato. He will probably try 10 times harder to be a good student to impress his crush.
He gets upset with himself when you find out he's in a gang, he thinks it will push you away (it would push me away, but it depends on the person).
He is faithful, either you betray him or one of you stops loving the other, because only then will the love relationship with him end. I feel like he wouldn't want you to get hurt in any way, so he's always tried to hide that he's in a gang to avoid getting in trouble.
Someone like Baji, who despite being aggressive is at the same time affectionate in his own way, and who is willing to do things that many people wouldn't do like suicide is proof that he is not only a good boyfriend, but also a good friend ...actually he's good at everything.
You probably met him thanks to stray animals, or you always fed them or you always went to their pet store. He would probably arrive talking to you about cats and the conversation would flow. Every day you went there to feed the cats and he does that too, not because of you, but because of the cats. But over time it becomes attached to you and ends up appearing there for both you and the cats.
He's the type to behave like an older brother. He doesn't get jealous, he just gets suspicious when someone approaches you. As already stated in the character's book, Baji prefers to resort to violence and before a conversation, this wouldn't change much when you were dating; If he feels like hitting someone who takes up a lot of his time, just prepare your emergency kit to take care of the person he hits later.
I see him declaring himself on an important day like Valentine's Day, Christmas or New Year's, his declaration would have been 100% his and 50% Chifuyu and Ryusei's advice. Baji, like Chifuyu, reads manga, I don't remember if it was here which category he reads, but I'm sure he was inspired by it...
Obviously everything would go wrong. Some delinquent behind him trying to fight, or him simply having brain problems because he forgot what he was going to say. In the end he was only able to declare himself even in serious moments, like moments of near death where he said something like:
"don't give up on me yet, damn it! I haven't even had time to tell you how I feel!"
That alone would be enough for days later for you to talk and resolve the matter and he would simply have to say everything. But that would take years...Baji is a man of steps when it comes to love.
First step would be trust, second would be time, third would be moments together, fourth would be denial of feelings towards you, fifth would be denial and disgust at himself for having these feelings for you, sixth would finally be acceptance of his feelings for you, seventh would be his mental adaptation to all of this, eighth would be gathering courage, and ninth would finally be his declaration. But make no mistake, each stage takes time, in the end only the fourth stage would take a few years.
Baji isn't the physical type either, in fact most Asians aren't very into physical affection. But a hug from him wouldn't bother him, just raise a question in his head.
Him trying hard not to see his mother cry, killing himself for Kazutora is proof that this man would do whatever he could to keep you happy.
He would probably, like Draken, neglect you. the only way to have a perfect relationship with him is to be like him, wild and involved with Toman. Not only would it bring you closer together, but it wouldn't leave you as attention-hungry as our poor Emma.🥺
And these are my thoughts on Baji, if there is anyone with other opinions please let me know, I like talking about it. each person has a different point of view. I was never very close to him, so I only remember a few things...
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coffe-and-tea-time · 21 hours
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KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP! KEEP PRETENDING TO SLEEP!!!
HEHEHEHEHEHE I WAS WAITING TO COOK THIS
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Coffee insanely speaking! Thanks Dear, you gimme the perfect excuse to write a second part just in time although I expected the option of talking to him to come first. Not that I'm complaining lol
Post where this suggestion came from
↪︎ ☾ I love to see you ....................................... .......................................☆ I love to hear you↩︎
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TW: yandere behavior, delusions, murder of self-preservation, stalking, obssesion, somewhat willing reader, kinda denying of bad decisions
Of course, the best option is to stay still, not because you are enjoying this no no, of course not...
Despite his soft voice that sounds rather familiar, you can't really recall who or where. So the safest option is just giving in at the moment, you didn't know how he could react so the safer the better, isn't it?
A smile starts creeping on your face against your will, seems like you are a rather bad actor when it's required, huh? 
“Oh, I'm really glad, you seem like you're finally having a good dream… will it be too greedy if I want to be inside that little dream of yours? Well, if you find that greedy, you won't be able to handle me later”
Hearing a close mouthed giggle following the whisper makes your heart flutter softly, like this is some kind of really romantic scene in his mind. You were able to hear the faint sound of footsteps, he seems like he's doing a little room tour, making it a little hard to hear him.
“Oh Dear, you were researching that thing again?”
It seems like he found his way into your phone, what was he referring to?
“Why do you keep reading so much about romance? Are these words good enough to keep your focus?... Maybe I have to start practicing oral expression? It's been a while since I felt like that, last time was when you downloaded that stupid dating sim… This is truly irritating, the names they use, the way they ‘communicate’ to you; do no justice, I can express myself way better, my love, and how my eyes change when I see you walking by… just... please, I need only one chance, and I promise you won't have a room left for doubts”
Even though he made the effort to lower his voice in order to 'not wake you up', it's clear how his tone is changing with every word depending on the topic; First, a low hint of infatuation, then, what sounds closer to a plead and, finally,...was that...hopelessness?
Honestly, in a normal situation, you would be annoyed by someone searching through your phone but only an idiot would think this man would judge you even if you had pictures of dead people there, more like he's genuinely looking for more of you, despite the fact that it's really not the ‘proper’ way, you can't say it didn't work.
“My beloved Cherry, what can i do for you to talk to me? Those characters seem to steal your attention quickly… I would be lying if I sad I'm not a little hopeful because of them though, you seem to have quite the specific taste, Cherry, and I believe I fit perfectly on them... if only I could find the right moment to get into your routine, to be part of your life…”
Weird that he worries about getting to talk to you with an ideal scene but not worrying about stalking you, but maybe it's kind of understable? Since well, everyone likes to check on their crush on social media even if they take a while to actually talk, even if this guy took it a little too far, he sounds... harmless like his wish is just to win your affection…
wait a second…
Are you truly relaxed in this kind of situation? What is going on with you? Why? Why… well, can't say you didn't ask for this, even as a joke, you know this time is different because it's real, but… why does reality feel like a fantasy right now? Is it because of him?
“Huh, I come here as a routine by now, I still get the same queries, I’m dying to find the answers soon..”
Sensing that lightly sweet fragrance once more makes you know he’s approaching your ‘sleeping’ form once again, making it easy to hear him despite his constant whispering.
“Would you let me cuddle you? Would you let me kiss you? Would you mind if I were clingy? Would you mind if I get jealous? Would you mind if it seems like I already know more about you than I should? I want to hold you my dear, I can’t wait for the day I can just snuggle with you every time we want… I really can’t wait anymore, I need to be closer to you… I guess I have no option other than to talk to you out of the blue, I dislike to be so imprudent, but I promise I will make up for it once you accept me in your life, Love”
You feel a gentle hand slightly caress your cheek as a little peck is placed on your forehead, making you almost smile like a fool if it weren’t for the fact that pretending to sleep is your priority in this sweet moment, unexpected but called for moment.
“Sweet dreams Cherry, I have to prepare what I should say tomorrow, I will put all of my efforts to be my best self to make a good first impression, I hope I snatch enough of your interest to be on your mind even for a moment”
Oh, he is definitely gonna be stuck in your mind for a while, as you try your best to focus on the sounds, you catch his steps as he seems to walk away… but you keep up with your act just in case.
So, tomorrow, huh? Seems like once again you have important decisions in your hand, should you indulge in your fantasy and let him get near you? It also sounds fun to go to him first… But, maybe you should try to avoid him? It’s the safer choice, but do you really want that? He seems safe enough not to raise any of your flags, he seemed so caring for you…
sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣
images from pinterest
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lillybearrie · 1 day
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Guys- guys! I need to talk about this because omfg arararara
Ok so I was watching sherb's most recent hardcore stream, or more accurately got not even a minute in and ran to Tumblr because I have thoughts, and maybe it's because I just binged Icarus's pov post-centross death but the first like 30 seconds or so of the hardcore stream made me realize the difference between someone like hardcore!Sherbert and Icarus.
Icarus is in a deep state of self loathing and needing to grief so so many things so many people they need to process so so much but their own father has convinced them that it's pointless that it's not worth it that they should just focus on other things like helping him in his endeavors and so they don't and instead they bear the weight of this feeling of guilt and dread that they carry it around all day every day and they use it like armor because they don't have much else anymore. They pour all of the doubt they used to have into blind faith in fable's cause because they will not process and they will not grief over the fact that in only the past 4 months they have either indirectly or directly been at fault for 2 of their friends deaths and that their very existence prompted the destruction of so many peoples lives fable caused the resets for them to save their life fable destroyed reality over and over and over until the universe was delt what is likely irreparable damage all for them and honesty we really don't talk enough about the guilt they must carry for that. Icarus wakes up and even if it's been a few weeks is immediately so so tired the weight of everything going on in their life waking up with them waking up with the voices that constantly tell them what they already know the voices the yell and scream that their wrong that their hurting people again that their acting corrupted The voices that never shut up day in and day out. And they stretch because sometimes keeping a routine in times like this is key to keeping sane and yk stretching is just generally a good habit. Their alone except for the emotionally distant basterd of a previously immortal man that dares call himself a father ( we're not gonna talk about how the stuff he instilled in ick when they were little influenced a large part of how the corruption presented itself in them during season 1 because this is not that post but if it was I would have so many words you don't even know) life right now is one big distraction and when it's not they either have a break down or they're chasing the next distraction and you can see that when they wake up because you get 2 kinds of Icarus in the morning angry Icarus who will take it out on quixis or us because they need that emotional release and we're easy targets or planning Icarus who is only thinking about what they need to do today they do mindless chores or talk with co-workers or are figuring out how to complete task fable asks of them.
Hardcore!Sherbert on the other hand is for better or worse alone completely and utterly aside from the things their's not a single actual person in their life. they farm they build they vibe and weird shit happens around them sometimes and they hear voices, they wake up and look forward to the next day even when they've been asleep for months they look in the bright side "not a bad thing tho it's important to get your sleep" they are so... free in comparison with Icarus and you can hear it in the way they talk its lighter you can see it in they way they move it made me realize how little Icarus actually truly smiles nowadays hardcore!sherbert has their fair share of struggles don't get me wrong but at they end of the day they're happy they enjoy life for the most part.
And Sherb does such a good Job acting out this fundamental difference between these two variations of the same guy. I go ababababa it think it's neattt anyway go appreciate Sherbertquake56's phenomenal acting after this long ass post psychoanalizing they way their minecraft characters wake up which is a total sane and normal thing to make a Tumblr post about at 4 am mhm
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neet-elite · 23 hours
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↳ EVENT 06. M!Kylar (Incest)
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Pairing: Big Brother M!Kylar / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,509 Warnings: incest, bath sex, yandere, creampie, cockwarming, stockholm syndrome, riding, breeding Prompt(s): 07 — incest Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: i dunno what inspired me to take a softer approach to this request, but i've been enjoying writing the really loving requests... so i hope that this is still enjoyable !! i also think kylar suits this prompt the most, so it was super fun to explore!!! tysm!
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After a long, exhausting, and humiliating day of school (or as Kylar likes to affectionately call it, imprisonment), there is simply nothing better to cap the awful experience off than to indulge in some alone time with his favourite little sister. His only little sister, the light of his life, the sole joy he experiences in this shitty world and his shitty life. To say that he relies on you for all of his comfort and happiness would be an understatement— he saps it. Leeching off of you from the moment he enters home, calling out for your attention before the front door is even closed. And the fact that you're none the wiser only encourages him to use you some more, forever pushing you to your limits to hopefully break you in as his own.
And tonight is no special exception. Away from prying eyes, in the safety of four thin walls, he begs for your affections once again. Dragging you into his room to spend the night together, just like always. And it's comforting to know that even after all the bullshit bullying he has to endure during the day, he can always count on his precious little sister to make it all worthwhile. God, he'd go through near death beatings daily if it meant he got to wrap his arms around you at the end of it all, nice and snug and soft, pretty little sister in his arms for him to coddle and coo at. Because he loves you so much, he's willing to endure whatever it takes to keep you out of harms way; so much so that he willingly puts himself into dangerous situations just to make sure you don't need to leave your shared home for any reason.
The world doesn't deserve your kindness. The town is unworthy of your cuteness, undeserving of your sweetness. Or; perhaps he's just being a selfish big brother, right? Keeping you all to himself, locked away in his tower for self serving reasons.
Like to be the only one to hear your barely audible little whimpers, how soft and pretty you sound right now, especially when his knuckles brush against your wet cheek and you shiver into him. Fuck, feels so good, doesn't it? He knows he does, playfully biting down on his bottom lip— unchecked confidence flowing through him now that he's only with you. It's funny, actually, how no one outside these four walls would assume just how cocky he can get, reserving that side of himself just for you. It's only fair, he thinks. He gets to see sides of you that no one else does, and in return, you receive authority over every aspect of your life, all in an effort to keep you safe. An innocent enough want, though he's well aware of just how degenerate he can get. How far he can twist relative honesty.
It's the least he could do for you, considering all you've got to do is exist and he's happy. Do you even know the things he goes through for you? How much trouble it is to actually keep you healthy and secure? It's like keeping a pet, only more rewarding when you take hold of his hand, little fingers locking with his own before dipping them back under the water together.
So cute! You're so fucking cute it pains him, heart hurting at the way your silky skin rubs against his own, tits pressed snugly to his chest, secured only by the warm water surrounding him. The skin on skin contact just gets to him— it's one of his favourite ways to spend time with you. Naked, bare, ignoring the moral implications of playing with his baby sister in such a disgusting way; he plays with you in far worse ways anyway. But the connection coursing through him, from your fingertips to his own, is unmatched. Causes his cock to tremble inside of you, his eyes instinctively rolling and then squeezing shut at the tight fit inside of your cunt.
It's bath time! he'd ordered you once home, pants already tenting from the way you excitedly started running the water at the mere mention of some valued bath time with big brother.
C'mere, sit on my lap he'd encouraged you once getting in the too hot water, but a little burning isn't gonna stop him from hanging out with his baby sister, now is it?
Wanna sit on it? he'd asked you once feeling you squirming around, wiggling your baby sister butt on his fat cock like routine. It's not the first time he's impaled your angel cunt in the water, and it certainly won't be the last. A regular enough occurrence at this rate that he knows cock is what you're after when he mentions bathing— not that he's any better, looking forward to getting you wet in the bath just so he can shove his dirty big brother cock inside of you again and again— routine.
It's only natural, he thinks. Given that you're disallowed from seeing anyone else, let alone any other suitors, that you'd want to explore things like sex and orgasms with your big brother. Which is luckily all according to his plan, to seclude you enough to make you think that it's your choice to date him. Greedy cock twitching inside your pretty little hole as you idly rub a thumb up and down his held hand, allowing him to slide down the tub just a little to reposition his cock at a better angle inside of you. If he keeps you all to himself like this, leaving you no other choice but to date and fuck and kiss and marry your big brother, then he can die happy.
"What did you do today?" He mundanely asks, but it's more of a grunt than anything else. Winded by the unfairly tight squeeze of your cunt, wrapped sooooo nicely around him, God, he'd kill for that cunt, yknow?
You take a second to answer, clearly preoccupied with not shifting around too much as he feels you tense up on his cock at the sound of his voice. Pretty baby, big brother will always protect you, okay?
"The usual," you yawn, and he has half a mind to pull out of your pretty pussy to instead stuff your open maw full with cock. "Mostly waited for you to get home, Ky."
Oh, how the affectionate nickname you've taken to calling him goes straight through him, fat beads of precum staining your insides all gloopy as a proclamation of love. His pretty little stockholm sister, are you even away of the things you do to him? How the banality of it all, taking a simple bath with you, is the lewdest part. Cock pulsing against your squishy insides while your tits ride against his chest, primal need dictating him to let go of your hand in favour of placing both hands on the small of your back. A little pressure added there to really make you feel the weight of your words, and by extension, the weight of his cock.
Your reaction is immediate, a sharp little squeak that he wants to force out of you again and again— but there is joy to be had in taking things slow, too. Like how when he lifts a hand up to your soaked hair to pet at, he's privy to the view of your wet cat like stare back at him, pretty pout and all. He leans down, giving you a chaste kiss on the lips as a reward for being so cute for him. "Don't you get bored of waiting for me every day? Aren't you doing something else?" He tests you, resting his chin at the top of your head to force you into listening to how hard his heart beats for you; in time with how fast his cock pulses with need.
"I— No... Seeing big brother again is my favourite thing!" You protest, and it's difficult to remain in his calm, cool, and collected big brother composure when you're whining so prettily for him like that, a little moan at the end from the way he rolls his hips against your own in the face of your absolute devotion.
Perfect, he thinks. You're already his, so he can do whatever he wants to you, right?
And while having you cockwarm him is one of his favourite pastimes, he'd be lying if he said he could do it all night. Much to his disappointment, though he tries every single bath time to do just that, your high pitched gasps and sweet little sighs coax him into movement without fail. A gentle back and forth to begin with, moving you up and down his cock with ease more so than moving himself— you can always count on big brother, okay?
And yet, domesticity calls to him. Begs to keep the slow pace, to let you hump him mindlessly once he's kickstarted your movement. You're a good girl, you know to keep moving, yeah? A simple up and down while he twirls your wet hair, gently cupping the back of your head with one hand, the other finding home on your ass to pinch and tug on your cheek. There's not a thought to be had in that dumb little sister brain of yours, is there? And there better not be, given how hard he works to make sure that there isn't. Rock hard cock stroking your insides gently, at your own pace, a satisfied hum escaping him when you huff and puff up and down his length.
"Good answer— ah—" he rewards you with a rushed moan, wrapping his body even tighter around you to get as close as possible to his little sister, wanting more than anything to melt into you, become so connected through the leaking precum dirtying your insides that all you can think about is him— because all he can think about is you, it's only fair! Even if you've proven yourself thus far to surround your world with him, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of you. Convinced by your devotion to thrust his cock up just a little, enough to knock you off balance and further into his greedy hold. "Waiting for big brothers cock?" He urges you to continue, to fuck his perverted length faster, fuck yourself stupid on big brother, okay baby?
You let out a muffled mhm!, moaned directly against his chest, heat rising to his cheeks from how cute you can be when doing something so immoral. You actually enjoy fucking big brother? Gross, he sneers internally. Only, the fact that you take part and also relish in something as vulgar as this tugs on his heart. Has his mind reeling with affections for you, grabbing a greedy fistful of your ass to aid in your bounces up and down.
Water splashes around him, the pace of your tiny humps quickening the harsher he grabs you. To the point that he has to use both hands on your pretty body, literally picking you up and letting you drop back down on his cock with insatiable need.
"Fuck, I can't— you're too good at this." he half laughs, sinking further into the water so as to allow you enough room to properly straddle him, every bounce you make on his fat cock leaving him more than a little breathless as he struggles to keep up with your thirst. Chest tight with the sight of you indulging yourself to his cock, using him just as much as he uses you on a daily basis. Oh how he loves it, to be at the receiving end of your adoration, your warm cunt sucking him further in with ever fuck, prompting his hips to hump upwards out of sheer desperation to match your sibling fucking energy.
Greedy as he is though, his hands settle possessively on your hips. Aiding in your movements in a selfish manner, forcing you to grind your puffy clit against him every time you slam your ass back down against his lap.
More than anything he strives to make you happy. Everything, literally everything he does is for you. Guided by your smile, aided by your laughter. He loves you so much, didn't you know? It's why he's helping you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, thoughtlessly thrusting in tandem with your humps, moaning out for you just as much as you sob his name. Over and over, his favourite song.
And like the good big brother he is, he knows when you're close. Takes over the job of fucking when you grow too weak to continue, despite the water splishing over his face. He'd drown if it meant you got to cum, honestly.
Rather than state the obvious, he focuses solely on helping you get there. Cooing and tutting and staring at your scrunched up pretty expression. He'll have to give you so many kisses afterwards for allowing him the privilege to see that cute face later on. Helping you grind your hips down on him in a way that his groin rubs your clit just the way you like, preferring to keep you seated there as your nails dig into his chest for slippery stability, taking to fucking his cock as deep as possible from your stationary seated position. He's barely moving, relying on the twitches and throbs of his cock inside for stimulation. But fuck— baby sister cunt feels so good, how your insides squirm around and suck his cock off so well, pretty whines spilling for him in abundance.
He stares at your face, only so that he can watch you fall apart on his big cock. Because the cut off sob you let out, followed by a gasp of his name before your moth falls open in a silent beg is so cute, fuck, he can't stop himself from cumming too. Not when your hole wraps tighter than ever around his intrusion, bullying his way inside your cunt to shoot his load as deep as possible, aiming to breed his baby sister bitch as payment for sticking by him when no one else would. Promising a future you've yet to learn about simply because you're too cute to hold back, painting your insides sticky white to mix with the bath water when he inevitably pushes some out with deep thrusts.
Gushy little cunt, still spasming around his length when he's done filling you up. It's a good thing you're in the bath with him after all, quietly cooing to you in soft privacy to get up, let him clean you while you're here. There's no one here to tell you how wrong it is for him to not only breed your cute hole, but to also clean it up afterwards with his fingers sneakily entering to scissor around a little.
And he hopes to keep you this way. Dumb, obedient, and oblivious. It's when his favourite little sister is at her cutest.
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coolshadowtwins · 1 day
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Barbie Princess and the Pauper.
SVSSS.
If you make SY Annalise, and SJ Erika, that fits with their backstories. The princess is the rich kid and the pauper is the former slave. (The image of SJ glaring at SY instead of singing ‘I’m just like you~’ is so funny to me.)
Then that would make LBH Julian, Annalise’s tutor. As I started writing this post, I was going to argue flipping SY and SJ around, because it would make sense for LBH to be King Dominic, but then I actually thought things through.
You have Prince Shen Yuan, who is going to be married to a foreign king to save his kingdom. He doesn’t want to do it. All he wants to do is read his trashy books, and is actually a little in love with his servant LBH, but he will for his people. Duty and all that.
Shen Jiu works in a dress shop in town. They don’t own him, technically. Not in the same way his past masters did. But in every way that matters, really. He owes them a great deal of money, so he can’t leave. And it’s… fine. It’s not the worst job, even if he will be working there forever after his childhood friend tragically abandoned him. But he gets food most days and the ladies (other than the owner) like him. This doesn’t stop him from being a angry, bitter man, of course. He’s still SJ after all lol
They may or may not sing a duet about doing what’s right, in the name of duty.
SY wants to see the city, just one time before he’s trapped in the castle! So LBH takes him downtown, where SY runs into SJ. They may or may not have a musical number about how much they look alike.
Then, like the movie, SY gets kidnapped. I don’t know who Preminger is here. I thought about it, and I can’t decide who to put there. It can’t be LBH’s family, tho, because then why is he there as a servant??? Anyway, SY gets kidnapped, so LBH drags SJ kicking and screaming to the castle to play the Prince while he investigates on the side. They may or may not have a musical number about LBH trying to teach SJ to be a Prince.
But then SJ has to go on a date with SY’s fiancé! And it turns out!!! The foreign king is YQY!!!!
YQY had thought SJ dead. He’s been practically a zombie for years, believing that he had failed SJ, and ruling the kingdom on autopilot. Why is he a king now? Uh, long lost son or something. Anyway, when he sees SJ, pretending to be SY, he freezes up. But then he convinces himself that it can’t be SJ! Because this is SY, obviously, who has very dedicated records keeping tract of the fact that yes, the Prince was indeed the prince his entire life and not a former slave. So he spends this entire date upset that he’s falling in love and betraying/replacing SJ.
On SJ’s part, he’s also upset about how much he likes YQY. He doesn’t recognize YQY as Qi-Ge, of course, but it still feels like he’s replacing him. Also, this isn’t his life. This isn’t his fiancé. Either SY will come back, and marry him and SJ will go back to the dress shop alone. Or SJ will stay the Prince forever, with the knowledge that none of this was every his, and he only got it by stealing another man’s life.
They may or may not sing a romantic duet that hides all the angst they are feeling.
Of course, SJ gets found out rather quickly after that. LBH has been caught and thrown in with SY, leaving no one to stop SJ from going to jail for the disappearance of the Prince. YQY is devastated to hear that SJ would do something like that, but more than that, YQY is elated to hear that this isn’t SY. It’s an unknown SY look alike, and how many of those can there be out there??? This has to be SJ, and now YQY has to help him out of prison.
Then SY and LBH escape, and come save the day, and find precious geodes to save the kingdom, etc etc etc. SY and LBH confess to each other, and live happily ever after, while YQY (after breaking SJ out of prison in a very illegal way) tearfully tells SJ that he is sorry and that he thought he was dead and he couldn’t find him and-
SJ, who just got broken out of prison by the foreign king that he had went on a date with earlier by pretending to be someone else, can only stare as he realizes that this is Qi-Ge.
SJ strings him along for a year until he feels he can accept any apology. And then they get married, because he is not passing up the chance to be a ruler of a country. Who do you think he is??
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maccreadysbaby · 3 days
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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne
batfamily + oc insert
tw: none
wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!
want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!
the one chapter in this whole fic where bentley makes a rational decision
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part thirty-nine
❝ UNLOVABLE ❞
TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 8 — 11:07 AM
BENTLEY WOKE UP SO DISORIENTED AND FUZZY AND CONFUSED THAT HE JUST STARTED CRYING.
There were bright white lights in his face, and he wasn’t in his bed anymore, he was somewhere else. There were people moving around him, but he didn’t pay attention long enough to decide who, only long enough to decide he was terrified and wanted Bruce. What time was it? No idea. What day was it? No idea. Was he at the hospital? Was something really wrong with him?
“Whoa, hey… hey there, chum. You’re okay,” 
Bentley relished in the familiar voice, peeling his heavy, kind of sticky, newly-wet eyes open to glance around the room. It took a solid minute for his brain to catch up to his vision, but when it did, he realized he was in the cave, and Bruce was sitting right next to the bed he was laying in.
He tried to bring his hands up to hide his crying eyes, but paused mid-movement when he realized he was attached to a drip.The movement also seemed to trigger a wave of soreness that washed through his whole body.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Just relax. You’re here, with me, in the cave. Everything’s okay,” Bruce spoke in his typical level, gentle tone, one of his hands landing on Bentley’s forehead like it always seemed to. Though, for some reason, he looked… really tired. Worn down. 
Bentley breathed in and out shakily, gathering his bearings, trying to stop crying for no reason for the five millionth time in his short life. (Seriously, he had to be setting a record at this point.) Instead, he relaxed back down onto the bed and let Bruce card his fingers through his hair.
“Where’s… Nico?” Was the first thing he managed to whisper.
Bruce got a strange look on his face, before he replied: “Bentley… you’ve been down here for five days. Nico and Asten went home. It’s Tuesday.”
Bentley blinked a few times. It was Tuesday? He had been… he had been completely out of it for five whole days?
He looked around the empty room warily. “What? What happened?” 
Bruce sighed softly, brushing his opposite hand through his own hair. “Someones been fiddling with your DNA, and it made you pretty sick.”
Oh. Right. Superpowers. Bentley looked down at his own feet under the cottony blanket, exhaling subtly. 
“Bentley,”
He looked back up at Bruce, who had a little smile on his face. 
“I will never, ever, ever get rid of you,” He reassured, sighing lightly. “I promise.”
Bentley looked down at his hands, exhaling shakily before he muttered: “My… my father told me… he never loved me. And, uh, that he never would.”
Bruce stayed silent for a moment.
Bentley breathed in and out. It was now or never, wasn’t it? The hard questions had to be asked so things could be fixed, right? “Will you tell me the truth?”
“Of course, bud. Anything,”
Bentley twiddled his fingers, purposefully keeping his eyes away from Bruce when he whispered: “Why is it so hard for people to love me?”
Bruce’s blue eyes grew grim, and he scooted his chair closer to the bed with a squeak. “Bentley Whittaker, you are not hard to love. In fact, you’re almost impossible not to love.”
Bentley looked away, breathing in to force away the urge to cry. “Then why doesn’t he love me?”
Bruce sighed lightly. “That’s his own choice, his own problem. It has nothing to do with you. You are an incredible, brave, amazing kid, Bentley, and I loved you the very first day Dick brought you to me.”
A moment of silence passed.
“Hey,” Bruce continued, his hand moving through Bentley’s hair again, and the child finally looked over at him with slightly glassy eyes. “You could set the whole world on fire and I’d still tell everybody you’re mine.”
Bentley looked down at his feet, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to burn. Did that mean that maybe Bruce wouldn’t hate him for all the things he did? And he wouldn’t get rid of him? And he could stay and keep living with them even though he was an emotional, irrational trainwreck of a child?
Bentley sniffled. “I’m…” Cold? Lonely? Tired of lying? “Can you hold me?”
In one smooth movement, minding the IV tubes, Bentley was with Bruce in the chair.
A few moments of silence passed.
“I wish you were my father,”
A few beats came and went, and Bruce kissed Bentley’s hair.
“I am,”
Oh, God — there it was. The one statement that utterly broke Bentley. That changed something inside of him just like his real father’s statement had. Something cracked. Something moved. 
And so Bentley did what Bentley had been so determined not to do for literal weeks.
“You promise you won’t hate me?” He muttered into Bruce’s shirt, making himself small there, tucking his knees up. 
“I could never hate you, Bentley,”
Bentley breathed in and out. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe it really was the right time. Maybe he really should do it — just get it over with. Nico would’ve done it. It was good. It would make everything better, right? Right?
“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Is what he started out with, but then backtracked, because that was not a great place to start. “I mean, no, I was. I was. But, the… uh… the night you guys thought I went missing I actually… uh… I ran away.”
Bruce said nothing, but didn’t make a disapproving sound or expression, either. So Bentley continued.
“I guess… uh… I guess it really started back when… right before school. Or right after, I can’t remember. Something was wrong with Damian. And I tried to talk to him but he got mad…” Bentley cleared his throat. “He told me I wasn’t worthy enough to be a Wayne. That I didn’t belong here and you only had me because you felt bad for me.”
At that, Bruce let out a little sigh.
“I think he was kind of sad, I dunno… I know he didn’t really want to hurt me. I think. But he did anyways,” Bentley shook his head. “And I started looking at everybody, at Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian and Cass and Steph and Duke and… Y’know. They’re all superheroes. Really cool superheroes. And a bunch of them were Robin, and I obviously can’t be Robin, but… I… I had to do something, you know? I wanted to be good enough. So… uh… Asten and Nico and I decided that… uh… we were going to go after the Secret Keeper. Because I could prove that I belonged here if I caught a villain like you guys do.”
“So you left, in pursuit of her?” Bruce inquired gently.
Bentley nodded. “Yeah. Asten found some connections between the missing people and the Areopagus and Dr. Keene, my teacher, and found this cabin in the woods that he owned that a bunch of the victims had stayed in, so we went to check it out. Which… sounds pretty random and dumb, now, I guess…” 
Silence passed.
“Uh… he found all that out by finding all the locations of where the people went missing and… uh… well. We kinda… stole Dr. Keene’s phone to get to the cabin schedules and stuff…” Bentley fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. “I know it was bad… but we wanted to help. So, uh, we met up at Nico’s house and started going to the cabin.”
Bentley exhaled heavily. Telling the truth felt strangely… good.
“We walked for a long time, and stopped by Asten’s house in Crime Alley for him to get something, and that was when Nico told me he was adopted and when I realized he had superpowers. Real ones — he has superspeed. And, well, that didn’t go over so well. He was… is really struggling with it. But, uh, anyways, Asten came back and then the Secret Keeper knocked me out and showed me all kinds of futures. Ones where I die, where I work with my father, where I was Robin… and she told me my choice to go to the cabin would lock me in and out of some. So I chose to keep going.”
Bruce still didn’t respond, keeping the door open for Bentley to continue.
“We broke into the cabin. And, uh, it looked pretty normal… at first. And then we found a trapdoor that led to the basement. Asten told me it was called a morgue,” Bentley shivered at the thought. “We opened up one of the fridges and… it was scary. I had an anxiety attack. Nico threw up in the floor. But Asten was fine, I think, and there was this computer down there that had tons of videos on it. Of our teacher, Dr. Keene, working in these labs, turning normal people into metahumans. The first one he did was his own daughter, Charlie Reins… who became The Secret Keeper. And he mind controls them all.”
Bruce exhaled.
“A bunch of the missing kids were in those videos, like Titus Lancaster and Davis Henderson. And we learned that… that… Dr. Keene was… is working for… my father. Trying to destroy you. That’s why the Secret Keeper has been attacking us. Because of me…” Bentley inhaled sharply. “Anyways, we were down there and we heard someone coming, so… we… hid in some of the fridges. Which wasn’t fun. I don’t remember much from then because I was freaking out. We ran out of the cabin and everyone was scared and Asten got his foot stuck in a bear trap and we were trying to help him and then there was a grenade and we all got knocked out.”
Bentley exhaled, sort of shaky, cringing at himself. Word vomiting wasn’t usually something people liked, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.
“And I woke up in a warehouse, but I wasn’t actually there because it was just the Secret Keeper. I saw Jason die, and it… was really scary. I… I saw you. And I begged you to bring me home but it wasn’t really you…” Bentley fought back another round of stinging in his eyes and forced himself to get it together. “Then I woke up. Davis Henderson, the waiter that got knocked out at that bar because of me, he was there and he got me out of the machine before they could do mind control, he said.”
Bruce nodded slightly. “I remember hearing about Davis.”
“Yeah. He has to wear these super huge metal gloves now, because he kills anything he touches. His mind control was broken. So he got me out, and then we went to get Nico and Asten. And I got shot. Which was scary. And… he told us about Titus Lancaster, who can teleport, and he was going to have surgery to get new mind control so he didn’t have it then. And Davis told us to find him and that he could teleport us out,” He explained. “So we ran for a while. Lots of people were killed. Davis killed a lot of bad guys that were shooting at us, and… Nico did, too, but he didn’t mean to. He has air powers now that can make you choke.”
Bruce hummed.
“But when we were running out the Secret Keeper showed up. So Davis told us to run and he fought her. I’m not sure what happened but I hope he’s okay. He saved me…” Bentley cleared his throat. “But we found Titus, who was really scared, and he teleported us to the manor. And Asten told us not to tell anyone so I… didn’t. And you know everything that’s happened since I got home. Oh — except… I went to see my father to try and convince him to stop, but he said no. And that if I told anybody anything I knew he’d use a plan b that would destroy all of Gotham. But I don’t know what it is. Oh, and Asten has fire powers. And… I guess that’s everything you didn’t know.”
Bentley sighed and looked up at Bruce, who looked near-emotionless, processing all of the information he’d just had dumped in his lap.
“I… I know those things were bad, and that I should’ve told you, and that I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, but please, please, please don’t get rid of me. I’ll be better — I won’t do anything bad again. Please don’t-“
“Bentley,”
The Bentley in question was starting to cry again. “Please don’t get rid of me, Bruce. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. You can get me in trouble and yell at me and lock me up or hit me like my dad used to, but please just don’t get rid of me.” 
“Bentley. Look at me please,”
Begrudgingly, Bentley looked up, his brown, watery eyes meeting Bruce’s icy blue ones. 
“Please don’t get rid of me. I love you,”
Bruce breathed in and out. “Here’s what I have to say, okay? You’re right. Some of those things you did were risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, and you were impressively, almost stupidly brave to do them. All because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”
Bentley looked down, wiping at his furiously leaking eyes with his non-dripped hand. 
“Do you want to know what one of the most defining traits of a Wayne is?” Bruce questioned, glancing down at Bentley with a smile that threw the child for a loop. “Being impressively and stupidly brave, and doing things that are risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, all because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”
Bentley said nothing.
“Every single person in this family, Bentley, has done something like this. Even me. Some of us more than once. And while I can’t say I’m thrilled about what you did or what you went through… You survived, you told me the truth, and you were trying to do the right thing. And, I’d have to say, all things considered, I’m pretty proud of that,” Bruce stated with a smile. “I am proud of you, Bentley. And I love you. So. Much. You’re pretty much stuck with me whether you like it or not.”
Bentley had never felt more relieved in his entire short life. Bruce loved him, and he wasn’t going to get rid of him, and he wasn’t mad at him… what kind of fever dream was this? How was it going just like Bentley hoped it would?
“Hey, bud, I want to ask you something. And I want you to be totally, completely honest, okay? Your answer needs to be yours and only yours,”
Bentley nodded slightly, still wiping at his eyes. 
Bruce breathed in deep, running a hand over the child’s head with this fond gleam in his eyes that before now, Bentley could have only dreamed of. 
“You’ve been living here for almost a year. Fostering for over half of it,” Bruce exhaled. “I think this is as good of a time as any to ask… how do you feel about being adopted, like Dick, Jason, and Tim?”
Bentley freaking lost his mind. 
(In the arms of his dad?)
dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚
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