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#it was like something out of rosemary's baby

ratcandy · 10 days

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Whats a class you've taken (can be any subject and grade) that you were expecting to dislike, but actually ended up enjoying and/or learning a lot from?

Oh man this is a hard question. and also super random HSKDJGH Hi

Hmm. I can think of plenty examples of classes I expected to hate and did end up hating (chemistry), or even a class I expected to like and ended up LOATHING (debate class that was a philosophy class in disguise), but one that I expected to dislike and ended up liking? Mgmn.

The closest thing I can think of was a class I took to get a humanities credit. How my college works is that you need a certain number of credits for things not necessarily covered by your major (humanities, composition, natural sciences, social sciences, etc), and for Me, Well. Being in Entomology made it pretty easy to get natural science credit, and being an English nerd, I already came into the college with all my needed composition credits.

But I needed humanities credits, so I ended up taking a class called Women in Film. I didn't really expect to dislike it, which is why I consider it the closest thing I can think of, I just didn't expect to be like. As interested in it as I am bug classes.

Anyway it ended up being one of my favorite classes and introduced me to one of my favorite professors ever. She was this funny old lady who was constantly cracking jokes and looked at film from EVERY possible perspective, even shit I could've never thought of before. And though her criticisms on essays were considered "scathing" and "ruthless" by other students, I thought they were super helpful and awesome and I respected her 1 million times more than pretty much every other prof I've had grade an essay.

also the final assignment of the class was to make a meme based on something we learned or a movie we covered in the class and she liked the one I made so much she apparently printed it out and put it in her office. and I think about this a lot

Anyway the class was super interesting too and has totally warped my perception of movies. I don't really watch movies to begin with, it's never really been my thing, but now anytime I see any film with a Woman in it I just start picking apart the most random of things in my head thanks to that class.

Watch any film and in the back of my head I hear that prof saying "Now do you think the director is a second, third, or fourth wave feminist?" and soon enough I'm going to become insufferable @ my friends about it

we watched some weird movies in that class but honestly ? sometimes it's just the part of the semester where you watch The Children's Hour or Rosemary's Baby and have completely different visceral responses to both of these films and then go to class and everyone gets to be as abnormal about it as possible . and it's awesome

#ok thanks for the random question I love being prompted with random things #ask #rosemary's baby features cultists and the birth of the antichrist btw .and this is just something most of us were not expecting when #we started the semester with. legally blonde #things got so wild inthere #but i will say the quote ''he's like a pavlovian dog'' from my prof sits in my head all the time #''lights go out pants go off BOINGGG''

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 4 months

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the woobification of the lords is something ill never be able to wrap my head around 😭 its insane to me how people can have such a horrible interpretation of events and characters based off of what we have in the actual game

let me start off by saying that ALL FOUR LORDS DID HORRIBLE THINGS (INCLUDING THE DIMITRESCU DAUGHTERS) !

lady dimitrescu isnt some gentle giant who only hates men and loves women and treats them like queens and she just loves living a quiet life with her daughters, she kills and tortures people 😭😭 she like actively killed her maids and drank their blood 😭 they have a basement that has so much blood in it that it goes up to ethans THIGHS

they are muderous and SADISTIC, including the daughters

the woobfication of the dimitrescu daughters is always the most confusing to me. their faces are literally covered in BLOOD 😭😭 they chase ethan around and stab him will laughing and giggling, cassandra literally calls it a HUNT, it is fun to them and they enjoy it

people always try to frame it as ethan breaking into their homes while they are scared and afraid 😭 i can assure you that nobody is afraid of him at first 😭 they dont think hes an actual threat, thats why they toy with him. and dont act like they were unaware of what he wanted. they were all present at the family meeting with miranda, they were all present when they JARRED rosemary 😭 they know what ethan wants, they know who ethan is, to frame them as "minding their own business" is the most absurd interpreation you could make of them

they were all involved, they all knew what he wanted, and they all HAD what he wanted

you can feel sympathy for lady D, when she cries for her daughters with tears in her eyes, she loved them, they were her family, but you cannot deny the hypocrisy. "how can you kill my daughters for your own!" you have his daughters head in a pickle jar! her daughters werent innocent defenless babies who were scared of big ol ethan stomping around in their house, they have weapons! they wanted to hurt him, and they did, and when he fought back he won

i cannot stress enough that in every single fight, ethan is not the first to strike. he is either backed into a corner where its either his life or theirs, or he is literally being tortured/ chased around, what do you want him to do? these people have pieces of his baby, should he have lied down and died?? 😭

whenever ethan is in a situation where the other person isnt stabbing him in the abdomen 100 times he tries to HELP them 😭 he tries to help absoulute strangers of a village he doesnt even know while he knows his own daughter is missing, even when the stranger is also a jerk to him 😭 he wants allies, he isnt actively trying to make enemys, and before you cry "karl heisenberg!" im getting there...

the thing that bothers me with how people treat donna is that although she isnt the WORST she gets woobfied the MOST imo, like she is the ONLY lord (other than karl but hes a outlier because he wanted ethan to come over so they could make out on his bed) who actively lures ethan in, miss dimitrescus, yeah sure u could say that he trespassed, same with moreau, but donna literally LURES HIM IN with hallucinations of his DEAD WIFE, then OPENS THE DOOR for him and TAKES HIM DOWN THE ELEVATOR

she is literally one of the people who ACTIVELY leads him to where she is

she also uses psychological puzzles , like making ethan perform surgery on a wooden doll of his wife and making him run away from a monster that cries like a baby and calls him "dada" 😭 she did not need to do any of that... like at all 😭 she did it because she wanted to 😭 she is by no means innocent at all

she toyed with him for literally no reason other than her own desire and then ethan doesnt even intentionally kill her. he is in a situation where is his trapped in the house and has to find angie, the doll, to avoid being attacked by dolls with like 100 knives stapled onto them

its only when he defeats angie its revealed that he had actually stabbed DONNA. he didnt even intentionally kill her 😭

then moreau... poor moreau... 😭

moreau in my opinion is one of the more sympathetic lords. whoever he was in his life pre cadou has no influence or impact on his life post cadou, the cadou just wrecked his brain functions

all he is is just mirandas minion at this point, he only wants to please her and doesnt really think about anything else for himself 😭

i dont have much to say about moreau because theres not really many people who woobfiy him or pay him any attention really 😭 though i will say he was very unabashedly evil 😭 he did horrible things, such as eating the fishermen and his experiments with the cadou on the villagers, he did it for mirandas approval but its not a excuse for it, hes still a villian 😭 now we are onto karl.... this guy... the woobification of him is insane 😭 first of all, something i dont see people acknowledge is that he actually HAS killed villagers! no he doesnt just use dead bodies (which btw isnt really a step up 😭 some of u set the bar too low man) the lycan gauntlet that he made ethan run through? yeah, he used that before! he has an entire PA system set up in it! he has lights and huge spikey metal death traps! he did not make all of that just for ethan just to "play appearances" for miranda. there were other people who went through that. and they DIED!

their deceased bodies are still in there! karl is messed up and eccentric 😭 it makes him fun, let him be messed up and evil 😭 and yes, karl used DEAD bodies instead of killing people who were alive, so surely that makes him far less evil right?

WRONG! 😭

HE CONSIDERED USING LIVE BODIES FOR THE SOLDATS 😭

karl really isnt a good person, he has reasons for the things he does, he wants to take down miranda and i dont think hed be creating undead zombies in the first place if it werent for her ruining his life but that isnt justification, its just an explanation for why he does what he does. he has a sympathetic back story and motives but you cant erase what he did, hes a villain! he tries to use a baby as a weapon!!! all 4 of the lords are villains, and instead of making other characters worse to uplift your favorite character that did something bad, you can just accept that the character you like did bad things 😭 they are all fictional, if i like moreau it does not mean i endorse eating fishermen 😭 you can like a character that is flawed, or evil, or did insanely messed up things because its RESIDENT EVIL. they are EVIL! they do bad things! like im sorry! but if your fave has a villains wiki it probably means they did some bad things! 😭

i wish people would be able to enjoy a character without entirely dismissing the bad things they did. its okay to like a character that does bad things, its ok to find them interesting and fun! but you cant deny what actually happens in games to try and make them appear as innocent. you dont have to justify every little thing that they do, just accept them as a whole!

of course this doesnt apply to AUs or just posting for fun. you can change media to be what you want to make it more fun. im going to draw lady dimitrescu treating ethan like a unwanted family pet. does that mean that i think she would really do that in canon? no! she would bite him and then tie him up like a pinata and give her daughters blindfolds and bats!

but people need to be able to recognize that fanon is NOT canon.

this post is about canon interpretations,

this is just addressing people who genuinely believe that those kinds of portrayals of the character is an ACCURATE portrayal, because its not.

#ethan winters #donna beneviento #alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters #karl heisenberg #salvatore moreau #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8

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killuintense · 8 months

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could you write a one shot of Leon and fem!reader talking about having a baby together? Leon assuming he would have to go easy on the alcohol and y/n happy to give Leon baby plsss ily<3 vvvv

❝ baby fever ❞

leon kennedy x fem!reader.

summary: the idea of confessing to you that incessant idea in his head to tell you that you would be an excellent mother, was consuming Leon.

content: 1.3k words, fluff, mention of pregnancy, a very cheesy and sweet Leon, mention of alcoholism, comfort.

note: i loved placing your request, thank you very much for making it and i hope you enjoy it, ilyyyy ♡ ♡

The night seemed to be calm and typical for that season of the year. The breeze was gently breezing and ruffling Leon's ashen hair as he quietly opened the door of the house without trying to make too much noise. It wasn't too late, but he didn't want to be loud, especially after spending all day at the main D.S.O. base taking care of paperwork and reports after his last assignment at Alcatraz prison. He laughed when he remembered your concern the moment you learned that he had been infected by a virus, blaming you for not accompanying him as you usually did being an important agent of the association.

"Ahmmm..." he heard a soft sound emitted by you from the kitchen and soon remembered that little detail. Your best friend had asked you as a last minute favor to babysit her baby for that whole day as family problems had arisen. She remembered the image of the morning. You, holding in your arms that little girl with golden hair and chubby cheeks, you and your look of love and tenderness. Leon would bet that he had never seen you make that face before, and a strange feeling welled up in his chest. Almost as if from his heart exploding in a feverish sense of need it was present "So goood, what a good girl, you like applesauce, don't you?" a complicit chuckle let itself be heard and Leon hesitated to enter the kitchen where your voice came from. He hesitated because he knew that if he came in and saw you behaving in such a natural and loving way with the little baby, many incoherent words and impulsive ideas would come out of his mouth.

However, the day had been long enough without wanting to see his beloved so he didn't hesitate to leave his blue leather jacket hanging in the entrance and enter the kitchen, watching how you held little Rosemary in your arms and gave her that preparation with enthusiasm "My love..." it almost came out in a sigh, and you admired it with surprise.

"Leon!" the excitement could be heard in your voice and dazzled in your eyes "I didn't hear the door, I'm sorry I didn't welcome you, Honey" you smiled and took the baby's little hand to improvise a greeting to Leon. He could feel his face heat up and if it wasn't for the baby on top of you, he would have run to lock you in his arms, sinking into a kiss that only he was capable of giving you. Before he could speak any more, though, the doorbell rang and soon you both realized that it was probably your friend finally showing up as promised.

He could see the disappointment in your eyes, knowing that if it was for you you could have her for another day playing with your cheeks as she laughed with amusement; and the blond wondered if he couldn't fall more in love, wondered if his love for you would make him explode. He needed to make you more his than you already were. He needed to sink into you in a different way and mark you, leave something of him forever in you.

"I really wish she would have stayed longer" you mentioned once the baby joyfully welcomed her mother's arms "You know you can trust me if you need help again" you offered and exchanged words of encouragement with your friend, cheering her up and congratulating her on having such a beautiful baby. Leon also waved, stood behind you with that soft smile he was only naturally able to do when he had you around. But he wasn't being enough. He wanted to close the damn door and tell you about that crazy idea that had been going around in his head since that morning he saw you with a little baby in your arms, about that feeling that invaded him when he took you by the waist hugging you and leaving a kiss on your lips and a soft caress on the little one's cheek before saying goodbye and leaving for work. He felt for the first time the feeling of a.... family. A family he only wanted to have if it was with you.

"Ah..." once you closed the door you stretched and yawned, hanging on the back of Leon's neck to hug him tightly "I really miss you today, big boy" you teased at the nickname, depositing a kiss on his jawline as scarred as it was rough, feeling the stubble of a couple of days unshaven.

"I missed you more..." he seemed as self-absorbed as ever, moving his hands from your waist to your belly, caressing it gently. It caught your attention that he would do that, of course, but you assumed he was affectionate because of the distance and remoteness that had consumed you during that week due to work. But you didn't think that Leon's mind was wandering in a need so primitive that it even saddened him "You really would make an excellent mother" he suddenly blurted out, staring at you as he gently bumped his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, sorry for pushing you into that situation.

"Is that a proposal, Kennedy?" you smiled, you loved it when he got shy like that. That remembered you when he was younger and still didn't know how to handle himself, how he wasn't able to carry all the traumas he had on his shoulders. "Leon... do you really think I would make a good mother?" you asked unsurely, a pressure in your chest made as it dawned on you that Leon wanted you to be the mother of his children. That he wanted to take that step with you.

"Obviously! Fuck, sometimes I find myself thinking about that too much" he smiled, kissing your cheek repeatedly causing you to giggle in amusement "Can you imagine? A little girl running all over the house, accompanying us everywhere, laughing and being happy..." his voice trailed off softly and he smiled "Being happy like we would have liked to be at some point. Not thinking about abandonment and the sadness of not having a home to return to" he squeezed your waist, as if trying to be aware that you were there, that you hadn't faded away. "And I know that last year was terrible... but I need to start again, I need to forget that I can drown my sorrows in alcohol" he murmured, ashamed of himself.

"Leon..." you took his cheek and smiled, kissing his lips softly "You'll make an excellent father, you know that, don't you?" a sparkle came into Leon's eyes, almost as if the hope of a future was opening in front of him, holding your hand, happy to move forward "Although to be honest, I'd like a mini Leon" you laughed, brushing your nose against his, in a sweet Eskimo kiss.

"If it's with you I wouldn't mind having a litter of mini Leons" he joked, though in a corner of his mind his almost animal instinct thought that if you let him he was capable of filling you completely until you couldn't take any more. 'We're not rabbits... for now' he thought, and chuckled to himself before he felt you pull away to go to the kitchen.

"Especially since I'm sure if she grows up to be a girl, she's going to be a spoiled daddy's princess" you said loud enough for him to hear and started cleaning up the dishes you had messed up during the day. Soon a giggle came closer and Leon's soft footsteps came into view, catching you around the waist as he let out a mocking sigh in your ear, sending a burst of electricity down your spine.

"Don't be like that, if you love that I spoil you, mh" he kissed your neck and you couldn't help but feel your body temper. You wouldn't give up that feeling of need for anything, that feeling of Leon wanting and having the instinct to take you in a way beyond what himself could have thought. You couldn't wait for the day to come, to one day have the privilege of having a seed of him growing inside you.

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 19 days

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✮⋆˙ every serious boy needs his silly girl!; jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone! reader blurb

content: jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone! reader blurb warning: language and like...baby allusions to sexual stuff but barely, ya know??? author's note: the tags for this series is getting so confusing bc like...nicos not in this one but yall need to read the previous vlogging daughter of persephone to understand the full scope of it, ya know?? so if yall are running into this on the jason page, ig you could read it as a stand alone but i promise the other parts are just as good!! (not the self promo gag me with a spoon frfr) anyways, trust, there will be a part two for this one, you already know 🫡🫡🫡🫡

"howdy yall," you mused into the camera, cringing slightly but carrying on, "clearly, will is rubbing off on me. anyways, soooooo mom and dad's like 3005th anniversary is coming up and they're just sooooo in love that they're renewing their vows. cute but most importantly, they're having a party!!! sooooo, off to the mall we go."

"wait, turn that song up," a male voice mused from your left, a smile instantly gracing your lips. you leaned forwards but made sure to keep the boy out of view, knowing it would drive people crazy as it was clearly not nico or will or percy.

"okay, okay, just interrupt my intro, that's cool," you laughed, twisting the knob and turning the song up nonetheless. 'love grows (where my rosemary goes)' played slightly louder through the car, your lips mouthing along to some of them.

"wait- really? im so sorry," the voice panicked but you just laughed more, evidently leaning your hand over and resting it on him to calm him down.

"no, im messing with you, jase."

"you suck."

"duh! anyways, before i was so rudely interrupted, we're off to the mall to get me a new dress. nico had a date with will or he would've come with. jk, he still wouldn't have come, he hates shopping. oh, speaking of which, remind me to grab him a pair of white socks. dad said he needed them or something, i don't remember. okay, so i didn't want to go shopping alone, so i dragged my buddy here out with me!!!" you cheered into the camera, reaching over and cupping jason's chin with your hands as you put the camera on him. he just smiled and rolled his eyes at your antics, trying desperately to keep his eyes on the road and not the girl next to him.

"say hi jason," you gushed, puckering your lipgloss coated lips at the boy, who couldn't help but flirt his eyes from the road to them.

"hey," he breathed out, flashing a smile at the camera before you were pulling it back to yourself, curling up in the passenger seat.

"he's camera shy, don't mind him," you fake-whispered into the camera with a wink.

"i'll make you walk the rest of the way, don't play with me," joked jason, which had you rolling your eyes into the camera.

"you'd never."

"you're right, i wouldn't."

you darted your eyes to the boy, completely forgetting that you had a camera capturing every minute of your blush.

"how crazy would it be if i did a cartwheel in this mall rn?" you asked jason, later, as you guys walked through the mall. you pointed the camera up at him, watching as he put on a show pretending to think it over.

"pretty crazy, id say. but, please don't, yn-"

"hold the camera, hold the camera," you cut in with a laugh, shoving the camera into his hand and also handing him your purse, which he easily slipped onto his shoulder. jason sighed audibly as you did a cartwheel in the mall, nearly falling on your ass during the landing but cheering as you didn't. jason was muttering things about your safety as you came rushing back, beaming a bright smile.

"did ya see that?? stuck the landing and everything!" you cheered to the camera, clearly proud of yourself as jason returned your purse with a soft smile and roll of his eyes. '

"yeah, yeah. get a move on. next thing you know, you'll be doing backflips off the lounge chairs," jason added and you looked up at him with a smirk, that had his smile slipping.

"wait, hold the camera, real quick-"

"no, yn."

"awwww, you're no fun."

"yup. that's me. the buzzkill that doesn't want to drive you to the hospital with a split skull."

"i'd land it!!"

"yeah, okay."

"you jerk!"

once more, the video cut to jason holding the camera, just messing around as he zoomed in and out on himself in a mirror. he was clearly in a shop, sitting outside the fitting rooms like a good boyfriend would.

"jason, talk to them!! i'll have to cut all this out if you're boring!" you called from a dressing room and jason rolled his eyes before turning the camera to himself.

"okay, okay. yn's yelling at me. she's trying on a few dresses right now. i think ones, like, yellow and kinda silky lookin? and that one has ruffles...maybe?? anyways, she also picked out a blue one and red one. i'm placing my bets on the red one because it's like a nice deep red, ya know?? yn loves that color, it reminds her of her mom," jason rambled into the camera before a door was heard creaking open, his smile widening as he looked up from the camera and assumable at you.

"stop spilling my secrets. how am i supposed to remain mysterious and cool girl chic if you tell them all my secrets??" you whined, leaning against the doorway in a soft yellow midi dress, ruffles galore.

"sorry, forget that i mentioned yn's favorite color," jason winked into the camera before turning it to the girl, who did a few fake poses that left the couple laughing.

"is it the one?" questioned jason as yn stood in front of the mirror, tilting her head as she inspected it, "because i really think that yellow is your color."

"you're so sweet, jase, but lemme try on the others. i do like the ruffles but is it giving 3005th anniversary?" you asked with a teasing smile and jason breathed out a chuckle as you returned to the dressing room. jason returned the camera to himself, swallowing as he pretended to not notice his change in shade.

"yn's really...she's something," he breathed into the camera, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back against the wall, staring off into space.

"jase-face, the blue one is so bad you don't even get to see it. you'd projectile vomit!" you called from the changing room and jason laughed.

"i promise you i wont!! c'mon, show me," he prompted, keeping his eyes locked on the door to the changing room.

"okay, okay. you get to see, but not the camera," you giggled and jason was instantly covering the camera with his hand. he told you that you were good and viewers could hear the door creaking open.

"what are you even talking about?? you look so good, yn. that blue is so your color," jason's voice cooed.

"shut up! i thought zeus' golden boy couldn't tell lies or whatever."

"that's george washington."

"same thing!"

"ouch!" jason replied and your giggles were clearly heard, "okay, if you don't like it, don't get it. i don't want you to be uncomfortable, ya know?"

"you just don't miss, do ya, grace?"

"not my style," jason mused as the door shut once more. he waited a few more seconds, to recoup himself, before uncovering the camera and leaning towards it with a whisper, "she looked amazing, don't let her lie to you guys."

"okay! i think this is the dress, jase. if you hate it, shut the fuck up, okay?" you called through the door for the final time and jason rolled his eyes at the camera.

"yes, ma'am."

"ta da!! am i a pretty princess or what?" you giggled as you swung the door open, showing off the deep red dress. it had a low neck line that jason was quick to dart is eyes away from a thin spiral of ruffles that went all the way down the dress. all of this was paired with a low back as well.

"the prettiest of princesses," jason breathed out, the camera slightly slipping in his hands as he couldn't seem to pull his eyes from you. you shyly darted your eyes away but you couldn't hide your smile.

"gods, that's your color, for sure."

"jason, you've said that to every color," you laughed, jutting out your hip and giving him a pointed look. jason flashed you a smile.

"that's because every color is your color."

"you cheeseball!" you laughed, shooting forwards and softly smacking his arm, unable to hide your wide grin or blushy cheeks.

"you love cheeseballs though!" mocked jason, which earned him another smack to his shoulder before you marched towards the dressing room to change for the final time. you stopped as you reached the door, looking over your shoulder at the boy.

"hey, wanna come help me with the zipper, sparky?" you offered, smirking. and jason was instantly setting the camera down and jumping out of his seat to follow you into the dressing room, the door shutting with a harsh shove.

the video cut to you attempting to do a backflip off one of the lounge chairs, landing solidly on your ass. jason was worriedly handling the camera, the video turning blurring as he rushed to you lying on the ground, whining and laughing slightly. underneith the video, in large block letters, were the words 'do not try this at home. ive got a massive bruise on my ass and a teenage boy showed me up by doing it correctly two minutes after me, which is really embarrassing. also, jason did not let us stop for iced coffee bc he was mad at me for getting hurt.'

1.7 comments:

@/user.1: IS HE HER BOYFRIEND??? YALL WHAT IS GOING ON RN??? DOES YN HAVE A SECRET BLONDE BOYFRIEND??? OR IS HE JUST A FRIEND?? WE NEED THE FBI ON THIS CASE IMMEDIATELY

@/underworlds.favs: no comment 🤐🤐

@/user.2: did he just- did he go into the dressing room with her??? girl is this a hard launch or a soft launch i can't tell-

@/underworlds.favs: what? he was just helping me with my zipper. no other reason 🤭🤭

@/user.2: girl, that dress did NOT have a zipper do not play with me rn-

@/jason.grace: you still need a plus one to that party?

@/underworlds.favs: for you? always. how can i silly girl without my serious boy??

@/underworlds.favs: STOP USING OUR SHARED ACCOUNT TO RIZZ UP BLONDE BOYS - an angry nico

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #hoo #pjo #pjo fandom #nico di angelo #jason grace #jason grace x y/n

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moonchildstyles · 9 months

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thyme

rosemary part five: harry's tired of hiding. y/n is there to listen

wordcount: 11.4k+

—————

The next time Harry saw morning light, he knew it was real with the way he could actually breathe under the rays. His eyes ached from the amount he had cried the night before, the memory of his nightmare having drained out along with every tear.

Only a slice of light made it through the tightly drawn shades over the window, the sun bright enough Harry could only begin to assume how long they'd slept in. But, he wasn't going to argue with the hours; after his nightmare had cleared, that was the best sleep he'd had in years. With every blink of his heavy eyes, he gained more and more clarity.

There was a part of him that wanted to be embarrassed about the way he had acted. The other night when she had tried to comfort him before was nothing compared to the way he had reacted last night. With her tucked carefully under his arm, her breathing even and eyes shuttered, he figured he could quell that awaiting shame for a little while longer. He didn't need to don his facade when she wasn't even awake to witness it.

Moving cautiously, their shared pillow under his head shifted as he looked to her. That crack in the curtains allowed a splash of light to spill over his chest, leading the ray to fall over her eyes. The divine ribbon of light highlighted the curl of her lashes, the slope of her nose, and the delicate skin of her eyelids. The shadows he had seen under her eyes were now replaced with the reaching lengths of her lashes over her cheekbones. Baby hairs were wild around her face, messed from the way he had reached and grabbed for her the night before. Her hands were still tightly clutching his shirt in her palms, the fabric wrinkled and stretched in her direction.

Looking at her like this, Harry realized he hadn't ever stood a chance, had he?

This whole thing—his facade, his over-nurtured walls, his control—all turned to dust the second she tapped his shoulder and asked about cookies. He should have known then that things were going to shift, even if he never thought it would turn out like this.

All because of a gorgeous girl with a ribbon in her hair.

Seeing her at peace for the first time in days, Harry knew that girl didn't deserve this—this dusty motel, this impromptu road trip, this much deception.

He couldn't keep doing this to her. She had a life that he'd torn her from, all so he could drag her to different diners and gas stations, dank motels, and a cramped car for hours on end. She had friends who loved her, a job she woke up every morning happy to do, and a sweet little home that deserved to have someone like her live in it.

It was Harry's mistakes that had caught up with them, and (Y/N) was the one being truly punished by them. She had to sleep in strange places, shower in less than five minutes if she wanted warm water, with questionable food waiting for her at every stop. Her nails even had chips in the paint, something he'd never seen before he tugged her into his mess.

She didn't deserve this motel or his hands all over her when she didn't even know who she was sharing a bed with.

He couldn't keep doing this to her. He was running out of money, and (Y/N) deserved to sleep in her own bed and be safe while she did.

This all had to stop. Today.

Yesterday's close call told him he wouldn't have to wait around very long for them to find him again. He didn't want (Y/N) to be in the middle of it when that happened.

There was a plan to be made. Today was the day his past would have to catch his present if he wanted any kind of future.

—————

"Are we leaving now?"

(Y/N)'s tired eyes watched as Harry cleaned up the morning's breakfast (it was closer to lunch by the time she woke up, but it was still breakfast in his eyes). While she seemed to actually gain some real rest, her gaze was still tired and a little glassy as she followed him about the motel.

She hadn't said a single word pertaining to what she had seen the night before, even though he could see those soft bits floating in her irises every time she matched his gaze.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw her packing up her bag like she did every morning, ready and willing to follow him anywhere. Harry knew he was making the right decision.

He couldn't be scared anymore. Not for her.

"We're not leaving today."

Her hands paused, buried in the bundle of clothes she had packed in her duffle, eyes wide as she looked at him. "What?"

Taking in a deep breath, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. He dropped his chin into his hands, his elbows propped up on his knees. "We're not running anymore."

(Y/N) stood to the full of her height, awkwardly fiddling with her fingers. A pinch creased the space between her brows. "I-I don't think I understand."

That lance of guilt found its way to a soft spot inside him, stabbing through every layer. He had kept her so far in the dark, and she still trusted him as if he deserved it.

She didn't look away when he matched her eye contact, his own gaze unwavering as he spoke, "I don't want to run anymore, (Y/N)."

"Okay," she drawled, gaze darting down as she tried to process what he was saying, "Um, are we going home then?"

Harry's throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly around his tongue. He had to tell her. He almost wanted to tell her, even. This was the first time the story had ever banged against his chest, fighting to be let out.

She deserved to know who she slept beside last night.

"Can I tell you something?"

(Y/N) stepped towards him on cautious feet, as if she were approaching a wounded animal. She took the spot on the bed beside him, looking at him through furrowed brows and worried eyes.

"You're scaring me," was her whispered response, hands a nervous knot in her lap.

A tick appeared in his jaw then. That was what burned him the most; he dreaded the fact that he was more than likely going to hear that from her again soon.

Nonetheless, he wet his lips before taking in a deep breath, the story unraveling from his tongue.

"When I was twenty, m'sister started her master's program at a new university, so we moved to the city—me, my mum, and m'sister. My mum wanted to stay close to her, and I didn't really care. I was willing to go wherever they were. But, a few months into her classes, m'sister got this boyfriend." He tried his best not to spit out the title through gritted teeth. Keeping himself in check, Harry settled enough to sit with his eyes on his fisted hands with knitted brows.

"I...He wasn't a good guy, I knew that jus' from the couple of friends I'd made even before he and m'sister got together. It wasn't like I hadn't believed it, but when I saw how he treated m'sister and the way she tried to hide it, I knew it was all true—everything I'd heard." He steeled himself as he felt his throat grow thick. He'd never said any of these things out loud. He was hearing the story for the first time just like she was. "He was... hurting her. Me and my mum didn't know what to do; any time we brought it up to Gemma she'd get really angry, or ignore us. We didn't know how to help. It was really hard for a while.

"But, she had stayed the weekend at his one time, and she came home with these bruises all over her neck. She tried to cover them and hide them with her sweater, but I saw them. I lost it." His hands pulsed in his lap, remembering the way the rage had bubbled in him like it was yesterday. "I had never been so angry in m'life, and Gemma was trying to calm me down but I was too far past any of that. I ended up going to her boyfriend's house that night, telling her and my mum I was seeing a friend. I don't think Gemma believed me but she didn't stop me.

"I don't even know what I thought I was going to do when I got there, honestly. I just wanted him to stop hurting my sister. He answered the door when I got there, and I jus' barged in and started yelling at him. I was telling him that he was going to stop hurting my sister or I was going to do something about it." He shook his head with a humorless laugh spilling from his lips, curls spilling across his forehead. How silly he had been; if only he'd known then what he knew now. "This guy—Trevor—, he laughed at me. I don't blame him now—I was some random kid running into his house threatening him as if I could actually follow through with any of it. But back then, I remember just getting so pissed. I couldn't believe he was going to laugh at me when I was telling him to stop beating m'sister. So, I tried to hit him."

(Y/N), who had sat silently with her gaze stitched to Harry's face, had let out a soft gasp at his words. Harry's knee began to bounce, his sightless eyes never straying from the outlet in the wall he'd chosen as his focal point. "'S almost funny to think about how quickly he'd knocked me on my ass after that. It was then that I saw that there were a few other guys in the room with us, jus' watching the whole thing. I'd been too mad to see anything other than him when I got there, but now they were all sitting around laughing at me like this whole thing was a joke. I was so embarrassed, I didn't know what to do. I just sat there.

"I remember he got in my face after that. He told me that if I ever tried to have a problem with him again, it would be very easy for something to happen to m'sister and my mum. I don't even know what I said back, but apparently it was funny enough to get everyone laughing again. I remember him looking around at all his friends, he said he liked me—even if I was a little stupid. The next time he looked at me, he told me that he did have something I could do for him if I really wanted him to leave Gemma alone.

"I had jumped at the idea. I thought whatever it took, right? I jus' wanted to have m'sister back and my mum to have her daughter. I'd do anything. I must have been especially funny that day, because when I told them that, they all laughed again. He started walking around then, like he was looking for something but didn't really care if he found it or not. He was telling me that he liked me; I had to be brave if I jus' walked into his house and started yelling at him and tried to punch him. Trevor said he had the perfect job for me—if I really wanted to help m'sister anyway."

Harry's mind lingered on the next images the story conjured up. This was the moment everything changed for him. "I don't even know if I said anything to him after that, but I remember him pulling out a gun then, and handing it to me," Harry's throat felt too thick as he tried to swallow, "There was someone that needed to be dealt with, and if I did it for him, he'd stop calling m'sister. I don't think I said anything, but I remember I didn't take it from him right away, just sitting there staring at his hand. I guess I wasn't fast enough because he said if I didn't want to kill for him, he'd jus' get Gemma instead. It didn't make any difference to him."

From the corner of his eye, he saw (Y/N) go still. "Harry," she whispered, her voice thin and wavering.

Keeping his eyes forward, Harry shook his head. He couldn't look at her if he wanted to finish this story. He'd crumble if he saw her.

"I don't really remember what happened after all that well. I think I told him okay, and he showed me how to use the gun, but that was it. They gave me an address and told me to get everything cleaned up by tomorrow morning." Harry's lungs felt heavy as he tried to find enough breath for the words he knew were coming next. That night turned into the first nightmare that followed him for years. He closed his eyes, squeezing his lids shut. "I waited until my mum and Gemma were asleep before I went to the address with the gun. This... The guy, he—uh—he owed m'sister's boyfriend a lot of money, apparently, and he wasn't planning on paying it back anytime soon. They wanted me to kill him because of that. And, I did."

Behind his closed eyes, Harry saw in too great detail every moment in that dark apartment. His hands shook now just as badly as they did then. His stomach turned at the memory of blood splattering back on his face from the force of the bullet through his skull. He had been standing too close, he knew that now, but he wasn't as good of a shot back then to be much farther away. He forced himself out of that memory, his reality shifting the longer he lingered there.

"The whole thing was a mess. I don't know how I didn't get caught. The whole time I was jus' thinking about my mum and m'sister, and how I wanted to keep them safe. That was all I was doing; I wasn't brave like Trevor had said. I was jus' stupid, but I didn't have a choice, right?" Shaking his head, Harry moved on. "I went back to Trevor's right after, and I threw up on his lawn twice before anyone realized I was there. When they did, I remember them laughing and asking me if I really did it. I jus' threw up again. By the time I had it together, I remember him telling me that I did a good job—that he was proud of me. He had sent someone after me to make sure everything was taken care of and I didn't tell anyone I shouldn't, and he said I couldn't have done a better job. I think I stopped listening then; I didn't want to be there when he said things like that after I knew what I'd done.

"I had thought then that that was it. That I would always remember that night and would have to learn to be okay with it, but it was done and now my family was safe. I started thinking about whether or not I could convince them to move away, and that I'd probably need to start looking for a therapist. But," he choked out, feeling far away as he remembered those early plans, "I couldn't leave after that. He said he liked me."

The heat of (Y/N)'s gaze never wavered from where it was stuck to his profile. He felt sick thinking about what could be hiding in her pupils as she listened to him. He feared to think she saw him for who he really was now: a rotten, disgusting, awful murderer.

Forging on, Harry swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat. "He wanted me to keep working for him. He said that no one would suspect someone like me to be working those nights like that. He wanted to take advantage of that—even if I was messy and still a little stupid, he said. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to, anyway; they had too much on me. Jus' the one job would get me locked up if they wanted—or worse if they didn't want to wait that long to deal with me trying to get away.

"It wasn't until the second job was done that m'sister stopped coming home with bruises. She started smiling more and talking to my mum again. She said that she broke up with her boyfriend and wanted to be serious about school again. It was like everything was almost normal, again." These were easy times for Harry to recall. He liked to remember his family like that. "There were times I had to get... closer to m'jobs than jus' with a gun. Those days were hard, but I'd come home and they'd be watching a movie or drinking wine together, and I'd tell myself it was worth it. It had to be. That's why I kept doing what Trevor wanted.

"They had to know there was something going on, but they never asked any questions. Even if they did, it wasn't like I ever gave them anything clear. I jus' told them I was tired and working too much. It was like that for a really long time. I blocked a lot of it out, but it wasn't anything I ever saw a way out of; every plan ended with m'family or me dying, or otherwise getting really hurt. I did what I had to do and... got over it as best I could."

Looking down at his hands, he flexed the stiff joints. Thin scars marred his skin, creases from years of work that took a toll on him. The inked cross in the pocket between his thumb and forefinger was fading. Harry cataloged every detail of his own hands as he fought to stay focused amid the sickening pit forming in his stomach.

"A few years ago, there had been a rumor going around that someone had plans to take out the head—Trevor's dad. I had heard that it was a rival, but a few of the guys had said it was coming from someone on the inside—someone who thought they could run the whole thing better. I didn't really believe it, but it was the first time anything like that had gotten any of them talking. There'd been threats before, but this one felt more real than any of them with the way a couple of the guys were even planning on what to do if something changed.

"It gave me hope, honestly. If it really was true, then there was going to be a night that was so chaotic and everyone's attention would be focused elsewhere enough that no one would notice if I disappeared. So, I started making plans. I saved any kind of money I made, and made arrangements for my mum and sister and tried to get everything taken care of that I could get away with. By the time I heard something was actually happening, I had everything in place for us. Trevor's dad was in the hospital, and probably wasn't going to make it out.

"It was all chaos after that. Everyone was either trying to find whoever did it—planned it—and everyone else was with Trevor and his dad. No one was keeping track of anything or anyone. It was exactly what I'd hoped for. I went home that day and told my mum and sister that we needed to leave. Something bad had happened and to keep them safe we all needed to leave right then. I didn't have time to tell them what was going on, but I remember I told Gemma it had something to do with Trevor and I knew she knew. She helped me get my mum out after that; packing as much as they could carry and grabbing the essentials. I gave them the cash I'd saved, and they left."

This was a night Harry had never revisited. Previous jobs of his always showed up in nightmares or ran on a loop when he couldn't sleep, but the last time he saw his family was a place he never allowed his brain to go. He didn't even realized he was tearing up until he felt the pressure behind his eyes and the knot in his throat.

"My mum asked me if I was coming with them, and I had to tell her no," he murmured, "Her and m'sister would be going together, but I had to go somewhere else. It was the only way they'd be safe. I would be the one that Trevor would go after, so if I stayed away then they wouldn't get dragged into it if I was found. I had everything planned out for them: a different car, a place for them to stay, and enough money to last until they figured something else out. It was all taken care of. I—" Harry choked on the lump in his throat. "That was the last time I saw them. I don't know where they are.

"That was years ago, though. I've been going through different towns since then, jus' hiding. This is the first time I've ever been found."

Silence fell over the motel room as Harry took in a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as he tried to center himself. He felt distant from where he sat on the edge of the bed. It was surreal hearing his story in his own voice instead of living the worst parts of it in dreams every night. It was even worse this way.

A lull passed, the weight of his words a heavy third entity between them. The static of (Y/N)'s presence prickled at his side. His knee kept bouncing, his body restless the longer his story hung in the air. He hadn't considered the aftermath being so quiet; he had imagined shouting, screaming, (Y/N) running away from him. He didn't know what to do with this.

"Harry?"

He didn't make any move to acknowledge her.

"Harry? Will you please look at me?"

Her voice wavered as she pleaded with him. He couldn't ignore her like that, not when he could already picture the tears sparkling in her eyes.

His movements were stiff as he turned to look at her. He wasn't sure what he was going to find when he saw her (his predictions ranged from mortified, to terrified, to a punch to the face in hopes of incapacitating him long enough for her to run), but what he found wasn't on his list of ideas at all. She was looking at him with big, watery eyes, the irises glittering with softened edges. Her features were melted into sympathy-drawn lines, curving and gentle with a wobbly bottom lip and downturned brows.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispered to him, matching his eye contact just as earnestly as he.

Listening to her, his brows pinched in the middle. "I-I don't—" His voice cut off, shaking his head as he floundered over his words.

With a soft touch of her hand grazing over his shoulder, (Y/N) didn't pay his half-hearted denial any mind. "I-I'm so sorry that happened to you," she murmured, her voice as soft and thin as the tears in her eyes, "I can't even imagine, I don't—"

Tears spilled over the rim of her eyes then, her voice breaking off. Her breathing came in shaky puffs, her hand on his arm tightening until her fingers were curled around his forearm. Sincerity filled her gaze as she looked at him, words failing her despite every soft sorrow in her eyes for him.

This wasn't the kind of reaction he had been anticipating, not even a little. This worried him more than any other bout of anger or fear he had initially expected.

"(Y/N)," he started, his voice low to match her own secretive tone despite the lack of others in their room, "I don't think I understand... I did really bad things, (Y/N), don't—I... Don't feel bad for me, yeah?"

He could see her retaliation form on her cry-swollen lips, but before a single word could broach the air between them, she was cut off by her own whimpering cry. In a moment she had crumpled into him, dismissing the boundaries between their bodies as he was wrapped in a hug with her arms around his neck.

Harry hesitated, his hands hovering over her back as his breathing stilled. She must really not understand the full breadth of the horrors he committed if she was still willing to touch him after learning his story. It was overwhelming in a lot of ways; this wasn't at all the kind of reaction he had ever thought anyone could have after finding out the kind of man he is, let alone someone like (Y/N). It was confusing.

After a moment, he settled, reciprocating her hug and being that anchor for her if only for a few more moments until realization dawned. She buried her face in the brunt of his chest, his shirt growing damp from her tears and the heavy puffs of air that fanned out from her lips. Harry held her, petting his hands down her back and brushing her hair from her face the longer she melted against him.

Soon enough, she pulled away from him, wet eyes glistening with a sniffly nose as she gazed up at him.

With gentle graze of a hand he hadn't trusted in years, Harry brushed baby hairs out of (Y/N)'s face. She looked at him like she really believed that she should feel sorry for him, console him as if he were one of the many families he tore apart through the many jobs he worked.

"(Y/N)," he started, voice more gentle than he thought he could manage with a lump in the back of his throat, "I don't think y'understand what I did."

A fresh batch of tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head, the hairs he'd just brushed out of her face now returning. "N-No, Harry, I do," she insisted, gaze genuine between the fluttering of her lashes as she blinked the tears away, "I know you wouldn't have d-done any of that if you'd had a choice—I know that. I-I'm so sorry that they took ad-advantage of you, and that you've been so a-alone." Her voice cut off then, a harsh breath just a hair away from a sob exhaling from her in a shudder. She could only manage a whisper when she recovered, "You don't deserve that."

She broke down once more, falling into Harry's chest again. He was prepared this time, ready to hold her steady and snuggle her against him. He just hoped the hammering of his heart behind his ribs wouldn't disturb her.

Harry's breathing came in stiff pulls as he tried to process what she was telling him. While he knew he wouldn't have done the things he did had there been another option for him—had he had the knowledge he has now, he would have done many things differently back then. He knew that, but that wasn't something he ever expected another to understand. He never thought he would have the courage to share his story aloud, let alone earn this kind of response from a listener.

(Y/N) treated him as if he were the tragedy, not the villain.

His own eyes began to burn, gaze going watery with the walls of the motel going mushy and melting in with the carpet. He couldn't remember the last time he cried for himself; he'd cried from fear from his nightmares and missing his family, but nothing to mourn the kind of life he could have lead had he known himself better.

"I—" he started, the lump in his throat blocking his words before they had a chance. Harry's throat bobbed as he tried to swallow around the bundle, voice thick, "I hurt people, (Y/N). I killed them." His breathing caught around the harsh word. He just wanted (Y/N) to know, be clear with the kind of person she was snuggling against. "I ruined families jus' because I wanted to save mine."

(Y/N) only held him tighter. "I can't blame you," she whispered against his throat, the words melting into his skin, "You were in an impossible situation. It was either you or someone else, and there was never going to be a right choice. I-I can't imagine..."

Harry didn't say anything back, instead just holding her as she did the same for him. He wanted to listen to the things she was saying, make sense of them in the reality he had accepted as his for years now. But, it felt... unsettling.

In his own head, in his heart, Harry knew he was put in a situation that no one should ever be in—make a decision that was more than just unfair. But, the longer he sat with himself, especially after finishing those jobs, he couldn't imagine that anyone would ever see it that way. It was easier to believe he was a monster when he figured the rest of the world would agree. He never saw himself as the one to be consoled, that he was too selfish a creature to have earned that kind of experience.

"I'm a monster, (Y/N)," he murmured into the crown of her head, strands of hair muffling his words.

"No, you're not," she immediately argued, "You're Harry."

All those tears that had been funneling into his eyes from deep in his chest somewhere he never allowed to be free finally spilled over. Tracks were made down his cheeks, heating his skin and leaving sticky trails of salt. His breaths came out heavy and warm, uneven with he pulls through his nose. Squeezing his eyes shut, he cried silently into (Y/N)'s hair, allowing her to hold him while he took his turn crumbling.

There were still pounds of guilt and trauma sitting in the bars around his heart, but this was the first time those burdens hadn't felt so heavy.

Sunshine through the windows could be felt on his back, bleeding through the t-shirt (Y/N) had latched within her grip the longer she held him.

"Thank you," he sniffled into her hair.

(Y/N) planted a delicate kiss to the column of his throat in response.

The shadows in the motel room shifted the longer they sat bundled on the end of the bed, the sun journeying through the sky through the window. Harry didn't know how long they sat together with tangled limbs, leaking eyes, and sniffling noses, but he could have stayed there a lot longer had he been given the chance. He could barely remember the last time he'd had an actual hug before (Y/N) let alone a cuddle for at least an hour.

But, he couldn't stay there forever. He told her that story for a reason. He couldn't abandon his plan now.

Harry peeled away from her fist, her embrace around his neck staying firm enough to keep him from going too far as she gazed up at him. His eyes felt raw as he matched her contact.

"I have to go, (Y/N)," he crooned, voice crackling.

Her arms looped around his neck shifted with her hands settling firmly on the back of his shoulders. "What? Why?" she panicked some, clinging to him, "No, I don't want you to go, Harry."

Petting her hair back, he tried to soothe her as best he could despite his clumsy movements. "But, we're not running anymore, remember? I need to deal with this."

(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out as she gazed up at him. "I thought you meant we were going home."

Shaking his head, Harry stayed gentle with her, "We can't yet—not while they're still looking for us. They all know about home now, and we can't go back when I know they'd follow us. I have to take care of them here. Before we do anything else."

She looked uneasy now, gaze dropping down the planes of his face. "What do they want from you?"

"I don't know," he shrugged as much as he could with her still wrapped in his arms, "They might want me to come back, or"—Harry steeled himself at the second prospect—"I might know too much to be left running around everywhere."

Color drained from (Y/N)'s face as she listened to him. "Y-You think they might kill you?"

Harry only shushed her, a tender hand on the back of her head guiding her back to her hiding space in the cubby of his neck when he saw fresh tears glimmering in her eyes. He didn't know what to say to something like that; confirming the horror didn't seem like a good idea, but he didn't have it in him to start lying right after coming clean like he has. His fingers threaded through her hair, blunt nails scratching at her scalp in soothing runs as she whimpered in his neck.

As much as he might have wanted to stay just where he was, cuddling and hushing her as if her tears were the worst of his problems, but he couldn't push off the inevitable for much longer.

Using his grip on the back of her neck, Harry pulled her away from her hiding place. He was greeted with swollen lips and red eyes he worried he wouldn't ever see normal again. He hoped against it all that he'd get to see her smile at least once more.

"I need you to listen really well, okay, (Y/N)?" he asked her, thumb running a circuit of comforting circles on the side of her neck.

She hesitated before she nodded. "But, I don't want you to leave."

Despite it all, a genuine smile wriggled its way onto Harry's features. What a sweet thing she was, even in the face of everything he'd laid out for her. The first smile he'd made in days being offered to her.

Harry kept silent to her protest, instead untangling himself from her hold. He stood to the full of his height, offering her his hand. With her palm pressed against his, she followed suit to stand beside him, their fingers laced together.

He led them around the bed, inching towards the bedside table. With his free hand and (Y/N) behind him in the narrow channel between the bed and the wall, Harry pulled the drawer open. Inside, the black handgun he had stowed away rattling against the laminate.

Swallowing, he took the firearm and turned to face her. He schooled his features into something stern and stoic. He wanted to be strong like he knew she needed him to be, especially when she saw what he was offering.

"I need you to use this if someone comes looking for us," he told her, his voice even and low.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened when she realized what she was looking at, her immediate. reaction coming in the form of her shaking head. "I-I don't—I'm not—"

"I know," he cut her off, squeezing her hand in his, "I want this to be a last resort." Walking her back away from the side table, her brought her to the end of the bed, his back facing the window in case anyone decided to peek through the sliver between the curtains. "Hide first," he explained, "And, I don't want y'answering the door for anyone after I leave. Even if it's me, I have a key. Don't let me in even if I ask, I should be able to let myself in. Don't answer the door for anyone, especially if y'don't recognize the who's on the other side. Jus' hide, okay? Y'can hide in the bathroom if y'want, but if anyone gets in and tries to do anything to you, I need y'to use this and protect yourself."

(Y/N) could have gone cold the way she was frozen still in front of him; if not for the heat of her hand in his, he would have assumed as much. She stared at the gun he was offering towards her as if a gift, the weapon sitting in his hand between them.

"Can I show y'how to use it?" he asked her, gently trying to ease her into the non-option she had of protecting herself.

"Harry..."

"I know," he said, "Please, (Y/N). I jus' need to be able to know that I won't be leaving y'to get hurt without a chance to protect yourself."

Looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, he could see her resolve crumble away piece by piece. He hated to think about her having to use something like this as much as he was sure she did, but that didn't change the fact that someone was looking for her and wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if given the chance.

"Okay," she peeped out, her hand in his slowly loosening as she grabbed for the gun.

Her grip was loose and shaky as Harry tried to show her the basics. With the barrel aimed at the ground, he showed her how to switch the safety, something he only mimed as he didn't want to scare her more. He encouraged her to wrap both hands around the grip, finger curling around the trigger.

"It's heavy," she said, her voice a quiet whimper as her hands continued to shake.

"I know," he told her, adjusting her hold to ensure the recoil didn't harm her any more than a bone's rattle. If she had to use it, anyway.

Silence settled over them as he ensured she would be as safe as she could be while he was gone.

"Both hands, okay?" he told her once more, her grip steadying the longer he allowed her to get used to the weight. "Every time y'pick it up, the barrel needs to be facing away from you. Even if the safety's on, I don't want y'aiming it anywhere near yourself."

"Okay," she said, another repetition of the small word through his instructions. She swallowed, her features twisted into something too scared for Harry's heart to not break over. "This is a last resort right? I-In case of an emergency."

Harry's jaw ticked, hearing the waver in her voice. He hated knowing he was the reason she was preparing for an emergency like this. "Only in case of emergency, yeah."

Taking the firearm out of her hands, he left it on the bed to (Y/N)'s relief. She wiped her hands off on her pants as he rifled through his duffle bag, finding the wad of cash he'd been using to fund their run. Taking the bundle to her, he pushed it into her empty hands.

Before she could have a chance to shoot off a round of questions, Harry steeled himself. "(Y/N) look at me for a second."

That tremor of fear she'd gained after dealing with the gun remained as she looked up at him with watery eyes.

Shoving the cash into her hand, Harry ensured she was listening before he spoke. "If 'm not back by the morning, I need y'to leave. 'M going to leave the car for you, and you're going to take all of the money I have left, okay? Jus' get home. Don't wait for me or try to look for me, only worry about getting back home."

Before he could even finish speaking, (Y/N) was shaking her head, protests on the tip of her tongue. "I'm not—"

"Yes, you are," he insisted, unwilling to hear her argument, "I promised y'when we left that y'would make it home and be safe. This is the only way I can make sure I can keep that promise, even if 'm not the one taking y'home." When (Y/N) began to push against his hand with the money, he stayed solid where he stood, matching her eyes with unwavering contact. "I don't want to argue with you on this, (Y/N). This is final."

Her gaze softened, matching the refractions in the tears pearling on her waterline. "Okay," she peeped after a pause, her voice barely above a whisper.

With the bills wadded in her hand, Harry disregarded the space between them as he pulled her into a hug. She melted into his hold that was becoming familiar, burrowing her face into his neck with her hands around his middle. He curled himself around her, the tip of his nose buried in the hair on the top of her head, his eyes falling closed as he pulled in a deep breath. His arms around her pulsed, his heartbeat rattling in his chest.

"'M sorry, (Y/N)," he murmured, lips brushing the crown of her head, "'M sorry I got y'involved in this."

(Y/N) shook her head, "It's not your fault."

While Harry couldn't accept that answer, he gave his own in the form of a kiss pressed to the top of her head. "I need to go now, okay?" he told her, voice muffled in her hair.

"Where are you going?" she asked, voice small to match his.

"Not too far, I don't think, since I want to leave y'the car," he said, trying to stitch together the details of his plan after such a vulnerable start to his day.

Drawing away, she looked up at him with questioning eyes. "You think they'll find you? How?"

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. "'M sure they already have an idea of where 'm hiding."

It was clear (Y/N) didn't enjoy his answer, but she didn't ask any more questions. Instead, she followed him quietly as he readied himself to meet his fate. While it wasn't a new feeling for him—accepting the fact that this outing might be his last—it was different knowing that someone would be waiting for him, knowing exactly what happened if he didn't make it back. It felt a lot more final this way. An omen—one he couldn't decide was good or bad.

With everything ready, and a plan to grab the gun he had packed in the car, Harry moved towards the door. (Y/N) stopped him with a soft hand on his biceps.

"I'll see you tonight, right?" Her eyes were pleading as she looked up at him.

"I'll try m'best." His gaze lingered on her. She still looked at him with softened eyes and wonderous gaze despite all the ugly secrets she now knew about him. His heart ached in his chest. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

He placed his hand on her's where it was resting on his arm. He curled his fingers around her own, giving her a small squeeze before he peeled her touch away.

All the way out the door, he could feel her eyes on him. He couldn't look back.

—————

(Y/N)'s legs felt cramped, the last six hours of having been curled up in the bathtub now showing in her aching muscles. Despite that, she didn't even think about stretching out, keeping herself bundled with her legs against her chest and arms looped around her shins.

The sun had gone down hours ago, wiping away the final slice of light that was draped through the main room. The gun Harry had given her laid untouched, safety clicked, at her feet. Her breathing was the only sound in the silent room.

Every time she could hear a set of feet trudging past the front door, her ears perked, trying to find any evidence that it might be Harry. Every time she came up with the opposite answer, her heart dropped an inch more.

As much as she wanted to hear someone familiar, for a pair of those heavy footsteps to stop in front of her door, a sense of panic filled her whenever they drew too close. But, she still felt hopeless every time they moved on without a lingering second. She didn't want to be alone, but she feared what having the opposite would mean if she wished a little too hard.

The otherwise silent room left her too much room to think about what Harry had told her today.

She knew he didn't think of his story as much of a tragedy as it was. She didn't think he even realized just how terribly he was taken advantage of and convinced he had no choice but the most evil one.

He was a victim, too.

(Y/N) knew Harry. Despite all the walls he presented and maintained, she'd gotten glimpses as to who he was at his core through these last months and especially this past week. There was always an assumption that he had a few secrets hiding behind his barricades, but she never would have guessed them to be something of this nature. She couldn't even imagine what it would feel like to carry something like that around, no one there to support him.

There was no way to comprehend what it would feel like to be in Harry's shoes. Doing everything on his own for so long before running into her, allowing a small smidge of himself to show to her, only for them to land in dirty motels with tear-stains on a floral bedspread.

Harry thought he was a monster, but (Y/N) could only consider him brave. He was the strongest person she knew.

There would be no way he wouldn't return to her, then, right? He was the strongest, smartest, most capable person she knew. Their teary cuddling couldn't be the last time she saw him. Right?

Another set of voices—three different ones, this time—interrupted (Y/N)'s spiraling. Her hands clenched around her knees, her breathing pausing as she tried to listen as best she could through both the cracked bathroom door and the bolted room door.

Soon enough, the volume peaks. They were right outside the door. (Y/N) could almost clearly make out the words through the thin walls.

A beat later, not a second of lag, the voices began to retreat, the volume lowering until nothing but muffles were heard. They'd walked past. It wasn't Harry, none of them.

Closing her eyes, (Y/N) knew she had to believe that Harry would come back. She couldn't see herself leaving here without him, even if time was something they were running out of.

But, he promised her. He promised her he'd make sure she was safe.

She knew Harry, and he wouldn't break his promises.

That was how she knew he would come back to her.

—————

Despite the sore in her muscles and the exhaustion tugging at her eyelids, (Y/N) went stiff when she heard the doorknob jiggle. Not once in the hours since Harry left had anyone even lingered outside the door, let alone try to breach the lock. Her breathing stuck in her throat when the incessant noise continued. In lethargic movements, her hands held a tremor as she reached for the gun at her feet.

She swore her heart stopped when the jiggling stopped, a muffled curse being heard from the other side of the door. The voice sounded familiar—the timbre, the tone, everything sounding like the one person she'd been waiting for. (Y/N) wanted to run to the door and let him in, her instincts pushing her to abandon post. But, she had to remember: Harry had a key, he'd let himself in.

Though, a creeping argument in the back of her mind started, what if he lost his key? What if he was hurt, bleeding and aching for her help? What if he couldn't use his key and she was going to leave him to die out there all because of a flimsy rule he'd made before walking into battle?

Her hands shook that much harder, her loose grip on the gun wavering.

Over the roar of her heartbeat in her ears, (Y/N) heard the jamb give away, the sticky lock finally opening. The door was pushed open, whiny hinges creaking. She heard the door be closed after a set of heavy footsteps made their way into the motel, the lock being bolted into place once more. Only the sound of labored breathing replaced the sudden racket in the silent room.

Please be Harry, please be Harry, please be Harry.

She tried to steady her hand on the firearm the longer the silence dragged on.

"(Y/N)? Are you still here, love?"

Tears sprung into (Y/N)'s eyes at that voice, relief flooding her system. She let go of the gun at her feet though her hands still shook as she stayed stuck in her pose in the bathtub.

"Harry?"

Those heavy footsteps that introduced him to the motel started again, the pace much faster as he crossed the room to her hiding spot.

The second he appeared in the doorway, (Y/N) knew she was supposed to be scared of him. She was supposed to be at least wary of the swelling bruises beginning to form on his face, fingerprints denting the skin of his neck. Stray scratches littered his arms, specks of blood marring his skin. His hair was a mess, strands sticking at odd angles. The worst of it was blood that was clearly not his, staining his shirt, splatters reaching as far as his cheeks. The red looked especially vivid beside the green of his wild eyes and the creamy tone of his skin. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his shoulders seeming wider in the doorway with his fists clenched at his sides.

But, even with every cue telling her she should keep cowering away from him, her heart still lurched in her chest at the sight. Under all the mess and core, that was her Harry. She knew him, she trusted him, and he came back to her. How could she be scared of that?

Following the bruising beats of her heart, (Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was leaping out of her hiding place. Disregarding the stiff set of her muscles and the weapon left in the tub, she jumped through the bathroom before landing in his arms.

"Harry!" she bubbled, clinging to him in a tight hug. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, with her arms around his neck with her cheek pressed to his. "Oh my god, you're okay, you're okay, Harry."

Her tongue felt like mush in her mouth the way she could barely form a coherent thought before she was dissolving to babbles. She didn't even realize she was crying until she could taste the salt of her tears. At least that explained the sticky lump in the back of her throat, too heavy to talk around.

Harry held her just as tightly, a strong arm supporting her underneath her thighs while the other roped around her waist. She could feel every breath he made, every ripple of his muscles; she even thought she could feel the thump of his heart.

Pulling away from his neck, (Y/N) reared back just enough to see his face though she didn't go too far. Shifting her hold on him, she pushed his hair out of his face, his features watery and distorted through her tears. Smears of blood stained her palms, but (Y/N) didn't care; she could be grossed over the blood later, right now all she could see was Harry. Everything she had hoped for, for the last handful of hours had actually come true, how could she focus on anything else?

Eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom, Harry looked up at her reverently. "'M here, (Y/N)," he murmured to her, voice broken. The longer he looked at her, that glimmer in his eyes rose until it was a shimmer of overfilled tears. "God, (Y/N)."

Holding his cheeks in her palm, she nodded her head, understanding the overwhelming feeling she was sure he felt bloom in his chest. "What happened?" she whispered, voice thin.

Shaking his head, those same curls she had brushed out of his face fell over his forehead once more. Some strands were darkened with blood. "'S over," he told her, his own tone small to match her own, "'M out. They aren't going to bother me anymore. 'S really over."

(Y/N) swallowed. "H-How?"

His jaw tensed under her hands. Another shake of his head was granted. "I-I don't want to—I can't talk about that." With the way his eyes darted from her own, falling down her features in a glazed trail, she knew this wasn't something to push him on. "B-But 's done—(Y/N), 's over."

Something in him snapped then, as if he heard himself for the first time. Harry crumbled then, his features twisting and flushing as rivers of tears fell from his eyes. He cried the way he did after his nightmares—heavy and nonstop.

Harry clutched her to his body as he sobbed into her neck, having shielded himself in her hair once his breath started shuddering in his lungs. He murmured over and over It's over, it's over, it's over, into her skin, the mantra slicking her skin like the tears that ran down his cheeks. (Y/N) held him even as his grip gave out, sliding down his body until she was planted flat on her feet, her fingers running a soothing circuit through his dirty hair.

Pressing her lips to the side of his head, (Y/N) felt her own voice thin as she spoke, "You did it, Harry. You're done."

His arms around her pulsed, her body flush against his with his fingertips denting into her back from how tightly he held her. Hesitantly peeling himself away from where he was cuddled into her neck, he gazed at her with bright green eyes, bloodshot and tired.

"I-I want to shower," he murmured to her, the first thing he managed to utter other than his disbelieved mantra.

A gentle smile touched at (Y/N)'s cheeks, a breathless laugh exhaling through her nose, "Yeah?" When Harry nodded his head, his tears slowing though he didn't share in her amusement, she brushed her hand through his curls once more before beginning to separate from his hold. "Okay, just let me... I left your gun in the tub, then I lea—"

The second she tried to shake off his grip and take her own touch away, Harry resisted with a shake of his head and his hold tightening. His arms were a rope around her waist, tying her to him. "No, no, no," he bubbled, desperation sinking into his eyes, "I-I don't want to be alone. Don't leave."

(Y/N) paused where she stood, her eyes matching his watery gaze. His irises swam, softened and scarred as if she left the room, he would never see her again. She couldn't say no to him.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I-I can stay, it's okay," she soothed him, "Did you—You want me to get in with you or stay in the bathroom?"

As much as it felt odd to ask if he wanted her to shower with him despite the fact they'd never been more intimate than a few kisses over a week ago, (Y/N) felt like there were no longer lines between them given their circumstances. The things Harry shared with her and the time she spent adhered to his side were more intimate than sex.

Nodding his head sent a few curls she had pushed back back over his forehead, some strands sticky and darker than the rest. "Get in with me," he rushed out, looking entirely too fragile for someone who just defended himself against any number of people out to get him, "Y'can say no, I-I jus' need you. Y-You make me feel okay, and-and—"

She cut him off with a nod of her own head, her hand landing on his shoulder with a light squeeze to the cuff. It hurt seeing him try to explain himself when he didn't even seem to have fully processed the last day. "Okay, okay, I'll get in with you," she told him, eyes wide and matching his so he stayed with her, "I just... I don't want anything else happening."

It was almost frantic the way he was quick to reject her thinking. His hands on her back pressed her closer to him. "Of course not. I jus'... I need you."

After Harry let her break away from him, he still stayed close to her as clothing began to be dropped on the floor. Despite the static of his presence behind her and spying his bloody clothing from the corner of her eye, she didn't feel the warmth of his gaze on her skin as more and more was revealed. Even in the small space, he kept his back to her, eyes kept to himself even as his hands shook, aching to have the comfort of her touch.

Down to her underwear, she saw Harry step into the bathtub first, the gun being plucked out of the basin and left on the countertop. From her peripheral, she saw him hesitate, as if he were afraid to both touch and let go of the firearm. Moments later, he stepped into the tub, twisting the temperature knobs with the kitschy mermaid curtain pulled closed.

Letting out a breath, (Y/N) dropped the remainder of her clothing to the floor. While she was sure Harry had too much on his mind to be worrying about the appearance of her body, there was still something that felt unsettled knowing that this would be the first time he saw her naked. Before they'd even shared a handful of kisses, he was going to see her bare. If not for the fragile air around them, (Y/N) would have thought it was funny.

Tugging back the curtain just enough, she stepped into the tub behind Harry. His back faced her as he wet his hair under the cold water, neither having the patience to wait for the stream to heat up like normal. More tattoos were revealed to her now that his arms were covered, along with scars that dotted his back she wished she didn't have to know about.

At the sound of her joining him, Harry looked over his shoulder at her, hair dripping wet with pink tinted drops hitting the tub. His gaze didn't stray from her face as his eyes softened that much more just before he turned around to reach for her. He didn't pay any attention to her bare skin, every curve and dip being forgotten in favor of the comfort her touch could offer.

His hands cupped the soft of her hips as he tugged her to his chest, fingertips denting the soft flesh. His skin was cold as he rested his forehead on hers, her body flush against his while the water showered from overhead. (Y/N)'s eyes fell to his chest, watching the way the water swirled the rusty drain in a cyclone of blood-stained water. Spots across his body showed more injuries than she previously noticed in the form of bruises and angry slashes.

Harry didn't pay any of the pain he may have felt any mind, instead letting his eyes fall closed as he breathed her in. His hands on her hips shifted to loop around her waist just the way they had been before they stepped into the shower. His muscles relaxed further when the water began to warm, the spray beginning to fill the bathroom with steam.

This felt more intimate than sex even to (Y/N). She had never just been held like this, with no implication of something more coming.

He held her under the warm water as his breathing evened into steady paces, (Y/N) running her hands through his hair and his shoulders. She couldn't reach much of him with the way Harry held her, but she washed him as gently as she could with the places she could reach, allowing him to calm in her hold. Every now and then, his features twisted into something painful, silent tears falling from his eyes. She worried that she might be hurting him, but when he only held her tighter, she figured he had other things on his mind in those moments.

Despite those moments when his fragility peeked out higher, this was the most calm she had ever seen him. Water ran down his body in cleaning rivers, taking away every bit of armor he had donned for the last however many years, leaving all of the soft bits behind. (Y/N) was used to see him stoic, clean from any kind of messy feeling or interaction, but that didn't mean she didn't still pick up on his restless hands, anxious gaze, or the constant need he seemed to have to be aware of everything at all times. She'd never seen him allow his brain to turn off like he was now. She hoped the only thing he felt now was relief.

She was sure he was going to find a way to make this all his fault, that he should never be forgiven for the things he was forced to do today, but, if even for the next twenty minutes, she hoped he'd take this relief and comfort; she hoped he'd realized just how much he deserved to be treated gently.

After the bathroom had sufficiently been filled with steam, the humidity clinging to every surface despite the still open bathroom door, (Y/N) asked, "Is it alright if I wash your hair?" Her fingers glided over his shoulders, touch as tender as her whispered voice.

Harry hummed a cracked confirmation, his features giving that tell-tale twist as a slew of tears dripped down his cheeks. "Thank you," he breathed.

Blinking his eyes open, Harry watched as she reached for one of the bottles he'd left on the ledge from his morning shower. It was an odd angle she had to work with, seeing as he didn't let her move very far away, out she'd work with it if this was all he wanted to feel more at ease.

Ducking his head, he allowed her to lather his strands in the off-brand apple scented shampoo he'd purchased on sale a month prior. Suds formed between the waves, bright and sparkling against the dark color. Some bubbles popped up a pink hue, but (Y/N) didn't try to focus on what tinted them.

Instead, she scratched her nails soothingly along his scalp, letting him sink into her that much more. "I love your hair, Harry," she murmured to him, words a secret only for him to hear.

A watery voice piped up over the beating of the shower, "Yeah?"

With a small smile touching the corner of her lips. He was cute like these, even if the circumstances were devastating. "Mhm," she hummed, "Your curls are perfect, especially since they've gotten longer. And, the color's very pretty with your eyes."

His breathing labored just that much more as he listened to her, his grip on her tightening with her chest flush against his. "Me and my mum have the same eyes," is all he shared with her, his voice delicate enough to be blown away with the steam.

"Really?" (Y/N) pushed, hoping he'd talk more about his family. She hoped the memory of them would comfort him.

"Mhm," his hum came out on the whinier side, "Me, her, and m'sister."

"I remember that picture you had" she told him, rinsing her hands of the suds before urging him towards the spray, "You're all very beautiful."

Harry fell silent, allowing the water to wash away the blood that had stuck in his strands. The hot water had pushed a deeper flush onto his cheeks, making his eyes that much more green even if they did look a bit broken.

(Y/N) didn't push him for more as she reached for his conditioner in a matching scent. He kept his grip tight on her as she massaged the cream through his curls, using this as more of an excuse to give him tender care as opposed to clean him.

"What did your sister get her degrees in?" (Y/N) asked, thinking of the graduation picture he had displayed in his home. The only piece of decor he had.

His gaze softened some as he thought about his family. "She did a lot with English and psychology," he started, "She wanted to be a writer at first, but before we left, I remember she had talked about wanting to do something to help people. She started looking into things for—um—mental health and people who had gone through trauma. I-I don't know what she's doing now, though."

Listening, (Y/N)'s lips thinned. She didn't bother trying to push anymore after his last statement. She didn't want him focusing on the fact he didn't know what his family was doing, or even where in the world they were.

Pushing him to rinse once more, Harry stepped out of the spray free of any blood on his body with his injuries clean and muscles softened under the warm water. His body didn't seem so heavy now, only tired.

"Feel clean?" she asked, her own hair dripping wet against her back though she had no plans to wash the locks.

He gave her a quiet nod, a sniffle scrunching his nose.

For the first time since stepping into the shower, Harry's gaze strayed from the decent area of her face and the wall behind her, dropping down her body. She wasn't sure what he saw that had him scrunching his brows and his eyes turning sad once more.

Before she could say much to distract him, Harry's hands began to shake on her back. "I don't deserve to touch you," he whispered, voice just small enough so it wouldn't break under the weight of his feelings, "Not after what I've done."

His expression shifted with watery eyes and downturned lips. A cinch appeared between his brows. His lungs rattled in his chest though he didn't make any move to keep his hands off of her.

Evening her breathing, (Y/N) did her best to keep a cap on her own feelings. She wanted Harry to feel like he could break down, be honest about his feelings, without worrying about her. She knew that if he cried any, he would take it as validation to his words, or push whatever he felt to the side in favor of doting over her.

"Don't say that, Harry," she argued gently, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. She used the leverage of her hold to pull him down, their gazes matching. "You did what you had to do to protect yourself. Today, and every other day."

Shaking his head, Harry's bottom lip wobbled with his tears mixing in with the water dripping down his face. "I-I—Don't—I...," he cut himself off with a deep breath being sucked in, his eyes squeezing closed as he continued, "'M disgusting—I don't deserve to touch you."

Sweeping in a deep breath (Y/N) did her best to stay composed as she pulled his arms from the loop they made around her body. Blinking his eyes open, he looked defeated as if he really believed he had convinced her of his delusion and this was the punishment. Instead, (Y/N) pulled his palms to her face, her own hands guiding him. She held him steady as she puckered her lips and pressed kisses to his palms, the tip of her nose skimming his fingers as she spied him through the gaps. Finishing, she pressed them flat against her cheeks, her guiding hands staying atop to keep him from leaving her.

"I love your hands," she told him, allowing him to catch the view of her willingly holding them to her skin, "They took care of me and kept me safe as much as you did. Be nice."

A fresh batch of tears began to flood out of his eyes. Harry didn't say anything as he rested his forehead on hers. His hands on her skin turned solid on their own accord as he clung to her.

They stayed under the spray long enough for the water to run cold, clinging to one another.

—————

thyme represents courage; facing the past

eeeeep only one part left and now you know all the things about him!!! thank you so much for sticking w me for this! so sorry fi theres any mistakes and if you have any ideas or requests or anything please send them in!

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry imagine #harry blurb #harry angst #harry x reader #harry au #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #love on tour #harrys house #pleasing #as it was #satellite

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mimsynims · 6 months

Text

Fool For Love

part 5

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

~~~

Author’s Note: This is becoming longer than expected, but I’m grateful for everyone staying on for the ride.

(Btw. When I’m writing, I’m imagining this with my own Tav, but I’ve been trying to keep it GN.)

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… now you do.

You’ve finally made a decision on how to handle it, but it turns out it might not be that easy to actually do as planned.

And then you go and make it even worse.

~~~

“Tav, wake up.” A hand on your shoulder tries to gently rouse you awake. “Tav, come on. It’s time to go.”

“Nooo, just let me sleep.” You were having such a nice dream. The details are a bit fuzzy, but you remember a body on top of you. Lips, hands, teeth. Warmth.

“You go on ahead, I will make sure our fearsome leader gets back to camp in one piece.”

Astarion. That fucker. He’s the reason why you are like this. Still half-asleep, still half-drunk. “No, not you.”

Someone — Karlach? — mumbles something.

“Go.” Astarion again. “I’ve got this.”

Perhaps if you ignore him, he’ll go away.

“Tav, darling, get up.”

The nerve. “Don’t call me that.”

“Stop acting like a baby and I will consider it.”

That has you finally opening your eyes and sitting up. “I can get back on my own.” In a bit, anyway.

“Perhaps.” Astarion steps up to you and holds out a hand. You can’t see his smug smile in the darkness, but you have no trouble imagining it. “Not sure we should risk it though.”

Just as you take his hand, it dawns on you that you finally have him alone. It’s just you and him, with nothing to interrupt your conversation.

Except you’re far from sober and in a bloody awful mood, to boot.

Feeling his fingers grasping yours, the arousal sparked by the dream stirs awake again. For a few heartbeats, you do nothing but stare at this beautiful man, this wonderful, enraging man.

Everything that has been bubbling inside you comes to a head, overwhelming you until the only thing you can do is tug him closer.

“Kiss me?” You know you’re doing it again, distracting yourself, but you’re feeling too much and the only thing that can make your mind go blissfully blank is him.

“Tav, darling.”

“Please.”

“I never could say no to you…”

There’s a strange note of exasperation in his voice, but you have no time to reflect on it when Astarion gets down on his knees and cups your face oh-so-gently. The kiss is unexpectedly fierce, matching the turmoil inside you.

“Astarion, I…” You dive back in before you say something foolish.

Sex with Astarion has never been boring, but there’s a new level of recklessness to it as you both tear at your clothes and give yourself to each other. You will probably have a bruise or two tomorrow — as will he — but it’s exactly what you need; it’s as if he knows what you crave even though you can’t voice it out loud. A part of you mourns that this doesn’t mean as much to him as it does to you — that you don’t mean as much to him as he does to you. Even as you scream his name in pleasure, sadness lingers in the outskirts of your mind, tainting the satisfaction and exhilaration.

The moon and the stars watch over you as Astarion drags you into his arms, both panting from exhaustion after your mutual climax. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you revel in the feeling of intimacy, lying like this.

Inhaling, you take comfort in the scents you’ll forever associate with him: bergamot, rosemary, brandy. Blood. It’s faint, but it’s there, beneath his perfume.

You go still. Blood. He didn’t bite you. Even if he doesn’t always drink from you, he always bites you during sex.

But not this time. Why? Whatever the reason, it makes you feel rejected. Not good enough.

Perhaps he only slept with you out of pity.

“I must say I am pleasantly surprised, Tav,” Astarion purrs. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to invite Gale to your tent.”

“Perhaps I was.” It’s a lie, one you will have to make sure doesn’t reach Gale’s ears. You should take it back, but you’re hurting too much to be sensible. “Still could.”

“Him?”

“He’s a nice man.” Too nice for you. “And if he could bag a god, he’s probably good in bed too.”

Astarion sits up to stare at you. “You must be joking.”

“Why?” You feel cold, naked, and not just physically. Reaching for your clothes, you turn your back to him and try to put them on. Easier said than done. “We haven’t made any promises to each other.”

Astarion rises too and places his hands on his hips, unbothered by his state of undress. “I know, but–”

“I’ve seen you, with the others. I know. And it’s fine.” Even in the darkness, it’s difficult to face him, but you force yourself to do so. To stand your ground while you do this. “At least it was fine.”

“You are not making any sense, Tav.”

You’re too worked up to notice the note of desperation in his voice. “I saw you tonight, with the others, and I realised I’ve had enough.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but you can’t stop yourself now. “We should end this.”

“What? Why?”

You ignore his obvious confusion. “I know you only propositioned me to make sure you’d be under my protection.”

“I–” Astarion sounds taken aback. “Yes, that’s true, I guess, but listen, Tav–”

“Don’t worry, for as long as you stay with us, I’ll never let anyone harm you.”

“So that’s it?”

He sounds hurt, but it’s most likely just his wounded pride. “I’m sure you can find comfort in the arms of Halsin or Shadowheart.” Or both.

“As you will with Rath and Gale, you mean?”

The bitterness has you frowning. He has no right because as you said, neither of you made any promises. “Maybe, maybe not. That’s none of your business, is it?”

You wish you could see his face more clearly, but it’s probably for the best that the night hides his expression. The silence feels heavy as you wait for several pounding heartbeats for his reply. A wildly optimistic part of you hopes that he will object, that he will tell you how wrong you are.

When he finally speaks, it’s nothing more than a whisper. “I guess not.” Without another word, he grabs his scattered clothes, tucks them under his arm and walks away, leaving you behind in the smothering darkness.

~~~

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #fic wip

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simplepotatofarmer · 2 months

Text

seconds

a short (1,089 words) rivals duo fic about food as love and friendship for @sixteenth-day-event's love month.

Dream didn’t cook.

He had lived on golden apples and pieces of beef that could only charitably be called ‘steak’ and ‘cooked’ and then later he had lived on potatoes, raw and mealy. It had taken months to get the taste out of his mouth. Months of Techno encouraging him to eat until Dream was able to keep down more than a few bites at a time.

It had to be frustrating. Dream had been frustrated, knowing that he needed to eat and knowing his stomach and mind would rebel against it. There had been times he had lashed out and had swept the dish off the table and Techno had rolled his eyes and called him a toddler and a baby and cleaned up the mess.

And he still cooked for Dream, despite it all.

This is so stupid, thought Dream with a groan.

He gripped the edge of the counter and looked down. Half the ingredients of Techno’s pantry sat out: carrots, mushrooms, onions, even potatoes. There were herbs that Dream didn’t know but had passed his sniff test and raw beef that he had dug out of the ice chest.

He had no idea what he was doing.

If Techno was here, Dream would ask him but he was out all day with Phil doing something that was supposed to be secret but Dream knew about anyway because Techno talked and, besides, this was meant to be a surprise.

“How—How hard can it be?” Dream asked the empty kitchen, trying to hype himself up. Outside, the sun was just a little below the halfway point in the sky. “It’s just fucking vegetables and shit in water.”

It was a lot harder than Dream thought.

His hands shook trying to chop the vegetables evenly, the missing fingers making it hard to grip the knife properly and there was one moment where his hand slipped and he grazed his finger, a tiny drop of blood welling up, and Dream had to sit down until he stopped feeling as if his head was full of static. But he had done it.

He had chopped the vegetables (even the potatoes) and then had cut the meat into chunks and had to stop himself from thinking about how easily a person could be carved up. As soon as he was done, Dream had tossed the knife into the sink and refused to look at it again.

Wiping his sleeve across his forehead, Dream began to season his stew. He smelled each herb, tasted some of the spices, dumped a little too much salt into the water and scrambled to scoop what he could out and then tried to mask it with a little more pepper and rosemary. He found dandelion greens and added those, too.

It didn’t taste anything like the stews that Techno made. Dream frowned.

He needed something.

In the back of Techno’s pantry, there was a dusty bottle of beetroot wine, labeled with Phil’s handwriting. That would work. Dream carefully scooped out some more of the water and then poured in half the wine. He added more herbs and spices but stayed away from the salt.

It still wasn’t right and Dream went to the ice chest and pulled out the butter and added a chunk.

Then he put the lid on the pot and let it simmer until Techno got home.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Steam rose off the bowl of stew sitting in front of Techno.

Across the table, Dream was watching him intently, his own bowl untouched, hand on the spoon, waiting for Techno to take the first bite.

“Y’know, you really didn’t have to do this, Dream,” said Techno, stirring the stew a bit.

“Yeah, I know but—but you always cook and I thought—I wanted to cook for...” Dream trailed off, shifting in his seat, finally looking away. “Whatever.”

Techno smiled.

“Nah, I appreciate it, man,” he said. “It looks good.”

That wasn’t a complete lie: the vegetables were clearly painstakingly cut into chunks all of a similar size as was the meat and the broth had a hearty, deep red color to it. Unfortunately, it colored almost everything with a reddish-purple tint to it but that was fine.

It certainly looked better than it smelled because it smelled like Techno’s entire spice rack had been dumped into the pot.

But Dream visibly perked up at his words.

“Yeah? I mean, I didn’t have, like, a recipe or anything.”

I can tell, thought Techno. He said, “Listen, Dream, the secret to cookin’ is you’ve got to cook from the heart, alright?”

A blush, pink and splotchy, colored Dream’s cheeks.

“Ugh. Just—Just eat the stupid stew,” said Dream, not moving to pick up his own spoon.

Techno took a bite.

It wasn’t awful though Techno would have never called it good. There was an odd lack of salt and an even odder mix of herbs and spices, not all of which went together, and a buttery taste that he wasn’t expecting. The beetroot wine was a bit overpowering.

He took another bite.

“Is it—is it alright?”

There was an eagerness on Dream’s face, nervousness in his voice, as he watched Techno.

Techno hadn’t been lying when he said the secret was to cook from the heart. The fact Dream had gone out of his way to cook anything when food had been such a sticking point for him, the fact he had willingly used potatoes when there had been a point he would gag at the mere sight of them, meant something.

It meant a lot.

Techno took another bite, bigger than the first two, and spoke around the mouthful.

“It’s amazin’. You wanna do all the cookin’ from now on?”

Dream scoffed but the blush had deepened and a pleased sort of relief had settled on his features. It softened some of the harshness left behind from the prison.

“Hell no.”

“I’m teasin’ you, Dream,” Techno said, still eating.

Dream pushed his spoon around his own bowl. He was quiet for awhile as Techno ate.

“Yeah—Well, to be—to be fair, you do all of the cooking and I know I’m a pain in the ass,” he said, finally, and finally lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth. Dream’s features twisted in disgust. “This is fucking awful.”

Techno snorted, reaching across the table to pat Dream’s hand.

“I don’t mind.”

One of Dream’s eyebrows jerked upwards.

“Really?”

“Really.” Techno pushed his chair to back to stand. “Now, I’m gonna get another bowl.”

#technoblade #dreamwastaken #rivals duo #dsmp fanfic #dream smp #rivalsblr #sixteenthdayevent #disordered eating mention

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chaotic-mystery · 1 year

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Lucky Number 3 |

✰Dbf!Joel x Crybaby!reader (if you squint I'm sorry)✰

✰CW: Smut 18+, Minors DNI, Caught masturbating, a helping hand, continuous orgasms, lil bit of crying, lots of praise and pet names, Joel calls himself daddy ONCE (don't start with me), yada yada yada.

✰Songs to make this even sexier:

Rosemary - Deftones

Okay - Chase Atlantic

Meet Your Master - Nine Inch Nails

All of my dbf! Joel is pre-outbreak, but he’s not a father (I’m sorry!)

ꨄ Let me know what you think, feedback and comments are always welcomed!ꨄ

Masterlist

You had no intention of touching yourself while your dad was having a card game night with his friends in the house, but hearing the way Joel groaned every time someone had a better hand than him just made you melt into a puddle. It echoed down the hallway into your room and your thighs clamped shut in excitement.

Your vibrator buzzing against your tingling clit had your eyes rolling back into your skull, whimpers spilling from between your lips. Your knees were bent, back flush against your soft sheets as you started to picture Joel, and picture his hands all over you. The thought of him on top of you, grunting the way he was in the kitchen but this time it was because you felt so good around him, that set your body on fire inside.

Your moaning got a bit more audible as your hand moved the toy faster, your body grinding against it. Joel consumed every dirty thought inside your mind, every moan you let out was his name. You knew it was fine to be a little loud considering the blaring music coming from your dads speaker and to be honest, that man was too fine to not moan his name out loud. This was becoming a nightly ritual for you the past couple of weeks. To masturbate and think about Joel and how you needed him to make you cum so hard you’d pray to the heavens above.

The bathroom door on the neighboring wall of your room shut, and your eyes burst open at the sudden knock on your door, and you quickly shut off your vibrator, shoving it under the pillow next to you. As you adjusted your clothes and sat up, you cleared your throat and told them to come in.

There he was. Joel.

“Wh-what’s up, Joel? Did you need something?” You knew you sounded stupid asking that, why else would he be in your fucking doorway?”

He chuckled, and slipped inside your room, latching the door behind him and locking it without you seeing. “Why are you all alone in here, darlin'?” His tone was sounding a little sarcastic, like he knew the answer and just wanted you to say it. You grabbed your book off your nightstand, waving it slowly in the air. You hadn’t touched that book in weeks, but he didn’t need to know that.

“So what in that book had you whimpering like the way you were, huh baby?” He stood over you, his hand reaching out to brush his thumb over your cheek faintly. Suddenly you didn’t know how to speak, your face getting hot and your mouth dry as a fucking desert, a smirk forming on Joels face as his eyebrows raised waiting for an answer. “What’s the matter, sugar? Use your big girl words, c’mon. Tell me sweetheart, do you like moaning my name while you touch yourself?”

You tossed the book behind you and grabbed his collar, tugging him forward as you pressed your lips to his abruptly. You fell back and took him with you, Joel between your legs and an arm above by your head. He kissed you roughly, panting for air as he moved his hand a little too far under your pillow. “I found what was making you whimper, filthy girl.” Your eyes landed on the toy in his hand, embarrassment flashing on your face. “I- um” You cover your face with your hands, too shy to look at him. He shifted his body weight above you, and suddenly your core was tingling. Joel had the vibrator pressed against your sopping wet clit, eyes watching how you squirm in desperation for him to slow down.

“J-Joel that feels so fucking good don’t stop” you moan as you arch your back a little, pressing into him. “Use your manners, pretty baby.” You weren’t listening to him, too focused on your growing orgasm, when you felt a spank to your pussy. You looked at Joel and frowned, wanting him to put the vibrator back. “What’d I say, sugar? Use your fuckin’ manners or I won’t keep goin’” His lips kissed your neck, teasingly sucking the skin until you had marks forming. “Please Joel, please put the vibrator back and make me cum please. I need you so badly” He pushed his body off you and kneeled over you, his hand squeezing your breast as he pressed the turned on toy to your clit once more. He ran it along your folds, giving your nipples teasing pinches. Your orgasm started burning in the pit of your stomach, and Joel groaned in pleasure just seeing how much you were losing your mind. “Cum for me sweetheart, show me how you cum when you think about me” He mumbled in your ear as he covered your mouth with his hand, the toy working faster against your clit. Your whimper was muffled against his hand as your body jerked against him, cumming on your toy. You were trying to ride the wave and come down, but that never came. Joel kept the toy right where it was, his head ducking down to kiss you after he mockingly said, “Oh, you thought you were done, baby doll? That’s cute. I don’t think so.”

“Joel I can’t- It’s too much, oh fuck” you could feel it winding you up again, his finger slipping inside your tight entrance. He shook his head, looking at you intently, "It wasn't too much to touch your wet little pussy thinkin' about me while I'm in the other room, was it? You can handle this baby doll, I know how fucking dirty you are." The delicious words he spoke had you bucking your hips fast, your eyes squeezed shut. “Oh look at that face, you wanna cum again. C'mon good girl, cum for daddy.” Your hand tried to push the toy off your body but he overpowered you, and you came again, this time faint shrieking coming from your mouth. The wail you let out sent Joel over the edge and he couldn't put it off any longer. He groaned through gritted teeth, his belt buckle flopping loudly against itself as he ran his swollen tip of his cock against your throbbing clit before shoving it inside you.

He grabbed your thighs and slammed you into him, his groans getting louder by the second. You didn’t even recover from cumming a second time, the pleasure swallowing you whole and tears forming in the corner of your eyes. “You’re such a good girl sweet heart, fuck you feel so good wrapped around my cock like that. Cum for me one more time, you can do it. Be my cum slut, hm?” His words rang through your ears as you came one last time, your body trembling heavily, the tears rolling from the outer corners of your eyes. Joel thrusted faster and grunted louder, his cock twitching inside you before he pulled out and cums on your abdomen. He lets it all drip out before he grabs a towel to clean you off. He wiped away your tears and kissed you, chuckling softly.

“Next time, don’t let me catch you moaning my name when I’m not in the room, yeah sweetheart?"

#dbf!joel miller x crybaby!reader #dbf! joel smut #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #dbf joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #tlou hbo #joel tlou #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal

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munsonsduchess · 6 months

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Monster Smash

summary: you meet eddie at a house party and the night takes an unexpected turn warnings: underage drinking, recreational drug use (weed), face sitting, oral (f receiving), semi public sex (eddie and the reader are in a room at a frat house during a party) w/c: 977 a/n: surprise bitch! another halloween fic! honestly with the amount of ghostface content on tiktok these days it was kind of inevitable we'd end up here, i was originally just going to post the other halloween fic but this one wouldn't leave me alone

It was Halloween and you were having the worst time. You didn’t know anyone at this party your roommate had dragged you to, citing that you needed to get out more, the drinks were shit, the music was shit, honestly you were tempted to just sneak out the back door of this frat house and claim you’d met somebody if your roommate asked the next day.

You sighed and took another drink from your lukewarm beer and pulled at the hem of the black dress you were wearing. Usually you didn’t feel self conscious in the things you picked for yourself but being, less petite, than some of your peers and wearing something your roommate had picked out so you could both wear matching costumes (you got to be the bad witch) in a room full of obnoxious frat bros made you feel slightly … less confident than normal.

You were about to cut and run when a guy appeared in front of you wearing a Ghostface Costume,

“What’s your favourite scary movie?”

“The Exorcist, 1973. A masterpiece in horror cinema” you responded without thinking. You hadn’t actually expected anyone to talk to you, after being basically ignored all night

“That’s, yeah that’s a really good pick” the guy pulled his mask off and you found yourself looking into the face of the local weed guy, Eddie Munson.

Everyone you knew, yourself included, bought their weed from Eddie. His stuff was guaranteed to be the best and not laced with anything it shouldn’t be,

“It’s the line from the homeless guy in the subway ‘can you help an old altar boy father’ and then later on when they’re in Regan’s bedroom and she says the same thing in the same voice. Chills. Literal chills”

“Such a good movie. They don’t make movies like that anymore, y’know? Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Rosemary’s Baby”

“Have you seen X? Or Pearl? They have the same kinda vibes but are totally modern movies”

“I’ve seen X. Massive Texas Chainsaw vibes”

“Right!”

You ended up finding a quiet corner with Eddie where the two of you could talk about horror movies for the rest of the evening. You’d honestly never really found anyone who loved horror the way you did so it was amazing to be able to vibe with someone like this.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 👻 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The party raged on into the wee hours and by now both you and Eddie were feeling the effects of the beer and few joints you’d shared. You were feeling pleasantly buzzed and enjoying the attention of an attractive man, even if it wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s so cool that you’re into horror, most people get freaked out or maybe enjoy those like conjuring movies”

“Ugh. The Warrens are the absolute worst, by all accounts they just scam people and then use their stories to write books and make more money” you gestured widely around the room, “how fucked is that?”

“Totally fucked” Eddie agreed

“You know I almost didn’t come tonight but my roommate kinda forced me to”

“Remind me to send your roommate a fruit basket or something as thanks then” Eddie said, “cause this is definitely a way better night than I thought it was gonna be”

“It’s so cool to meet a friend tonight” you agreed, “but aren’t you like ‘working’ the party?”

Eddie laughed and you had to admit you loved the sound. You wondered if he would want to still be friends after the party was over,

“You’re cute. I mean sure it’s great talking like this but honestly, I saw you standing on your own and seriously couldn’t understand why cause just the sight of you in that dress had all the blood in my body run south. I mean, the fact that you’re awesome on top of being drop dead hot is a bonus”

Your brain short circuited for a moment and you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing,

“So, you wanna get a room?”

“Absolutely I do”

Eddie smirked wickedly at you before helping you off the couch and pulling you behind him to the main staircase and along a corridor to an empty room.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ 👻 ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“Sit on my face, come on” Eddie grinned at you, taking one of your hands and pulling you towards the bed.

You followed the tug and threw one leg over the bed and balanced on your knees. Before you could even try to think about how much weight to bear down you felt Eddie grab your hips and pull you down onto his face forcefully.

There was no way you could focus on anything but the way Eddie licked into you hungrily. His hands on your hips dug into the flesh there and you threw your head back with the intense feelings, moaning loudly.

“Oh my god Eddie”

Beneath you Eddie made a muffled noise which you assumed was positive since he didn’t stop what he was doing for even a moment.

You wondered briefly how he could breathe but the thought left your mind as quickly as it had arrived when Eddie’s nose brushed against your clit and you saw stars.

Eddie continued to suck and lick you through your orgasm and the aftershocks, the oversensitivity made you want to pull away but Eddie held you firm coaxing yet another orgasm from you until your legs began to shake. Only then did he allow you to pull away and catch your breath,

“Holy shit” you panted, trying to regain some of your self control,

“That’s only the warm up act baby. It’s just you and me and no one is gonna hear you when you scream my name as loud as you want to”

This was definitely a way better night than you’d thought it would be when your roommate forced you out tonight.

After all what was Halloween without a few screams?

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neverinadream · 1 year

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Once Dance, Chérie

Summary: Charles gets you to do the one thing most fail to do: he gets you to dance.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader // Arthur Leclerc x Fem!Reader (briefly mentioned - strictly platonic)

Requested: Nope.

Song Inspo: Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) - Edison Lighthouse

Warnings: fluff, the reader is technically younger than charles - like arthur's age, not necessarily a friends to lovers but like maybe a hint at it - maybe...

Notes: i don't even know what this is or if i like it but i can't lie, i was listening to the glee cast version of unchained melody and then i got this idea of charles trying to get arthur's best friend to dance with him at a wedding so this happened....yeah....anyway, feedback is always appreciated, it helps a lot

"Say cheese!"

"No, Charles," you shake your head, covering the lens of the cheap, disposable camera. They had been left out on the tables, with people being encouraged to pick them up and take pictures. You had enjoyed watching your baby cousins running and sliding around the ballroom on their knees, avoiding the discipline of their parents, giddy to snap pictures of other guests, plates of food, the wedding cake, and close-ups of each other's faces pulling various funny expressions. What you didn't enjoy was fending off your best friend's older brother trying to take pictures of you. "Charles, please, stop," you pleaded, finally pushing the camera away, "I really don't think Daphne wants an entire camera roll full of blurry images of my face."

"I wouldn't necessarily say that would be a bad thing," he replies, giving up on his mission to snap as many pictures of you as possible. His mouth curls into a smile as he catches you rolling your eyes, mumbling something incoherent under your breath, hiding behind your champagne flute. "Well," he clears his throat and rises from the table, "you'll at least dance with me, won't you?" He watches your eyes travel to his hand extended in front of you, the smaller glimmer of hope he had melting away as you reject him. "Why not?"

"Simple answer," you shrug your shoulders, "I don't dance."

"It's a wedding, chérie," it slipped off his tongue with ease, "everyone dances at weddings."

"Not me," you continue your protest, folding your arms across your chest.

He wiggles his fingers in the air. "Come on," he tries to entice you with a smile, "I know you like this song." You did like the current song playing. It was 'Love Grows' by Edison Lighthouse. It reminded you of Saturday mornings as a child, watching your dad float around the kitchen, twirling your mum around until she was laughing, before doing the same with each of you and your sisters. "Just one dance."

"Arthur won't like it," you tell him, trying to find a new excuse not to dance with him.

He raises his eyebrow, the corners of his mouth dropping and the smile he once had before now disappearing. "Now you're just making up excuses not to dance with, chérie," there it was again, so easily said like it meant nothing at all to him, "Arthur has been telling me to stay away from you since you were both fourteen years old. It hasn't exactly worked, has it? Why don't you really want to dance with me? Hmm?" His arm finally drops, his hands tucking loosely into his pockets. "I'll have you know, I'm an excellent dancer," he boasts, drawing a soft chuckle to spill from your carefully painted lips, "just ask Eloise." Eloise was your baby cousin and someone who had taken a fancy to Charles, tugging his hand and dragging him away to dance as often as Charles would allow it to happen.

"Eloise is seven years old, Charles," you fire back, shaking your head, "she would tell you you're an amazing singer if you were to sing her favourite song to her."

His bottom lip falls away from his top lip. "The little liar!"

"If you must know, I don't dance because I can't dance," you fold your arms, plucking your champagne flute between your fingers, tilting it to take a long sip, "I have two very clumsy left feet."

"I'm going to let you in on a secret," he says, removing his suit jacket in one simple, fluid motion. He leans forward, bending over you as he hangs the jacket over the back of your chair, all an act of his so he could get close enough to you to whisper, "I have two left feet too," into your ear. He swears he could feel the heat that pinched your cheeks, quietly chuckling when you avoided his eye contact as he straightened up.

"I, uh," you take another sip of your champagne, just enough to lubricate your dry mouth, "I thought you just said you were a great dancer?"

"I believe I said an 'excellent' dancer," he corrects you, unbuttoning his cufflinks, proceeding to roll his sleeves up, "and I've been told that my source might be unreliable." Satisfied with his sleeves, he extends his arm, offering you his hand as he attempts, one last time, to ask you to dance. "Doesn't your date deserve at least one dance with you tonight?"

"Your date?" You scoff, repeating his words back to him. He doesn't reply but grins back at you instead. "And how exactly did you end up being my date?" You push for an explanation, "because I thought I came to this wedding without a date."

He gestures his hand between the both of you, like he was trying to mime out his answer. "I have no date," he continues to wave his hand back and forth from his body, "you have no date." You failed to see an ounce of logic in his answer.

"And neither does my sixteen-year-old cousin," you fire back, pointing to the dance floor, "I'm sure he would love to have Charles Leclerc as his date tonight."

"One dance, chérie."

A sigh pushes past your lips. You knew Charles could be persistent, but you didn't think he would be this persistent. "You won't stop pestering me until I say yes, will you?" He shakes his head, grinning with a playful glint in his eyes. "If I say yes, will you promise that you will never ask me to dance ever again?"

"I pro-"

"And you'll promise to stop trying to take pictures of me?"

He rests his hand over his heart. "I promise never to ask you to dance ever again," he tells you, his face softening as you finally take his hand, "except on our wedding day." You look off to the side, biting back the urge to laugh or smile. "We'll have to dance at our wedding, chérie," he chuckles, offering you his other hand and helping you to your feet, "or did you think I forgot about it?"

When both you and Arthur were four, your mothers made a joke about the two of you being so attached to the hip that you would one day get married to each other. They were met with a chorus of disgust, the two of you shaking your heads and Arthur pretending to be sick. Charles, however, announced that he would marry you instead, because if Arthur wasn't going to marry the prettiest princess in all of Monaco, then he would instead.

"You're still the prettiest princess in Monaco, chérie."

"Five," you count, unable to ignore the flutter in your belly as he repeats it, "that's five times you've now called 'chérie' tonight. Some might say you've used it over excessively tonight. Enough times to last a lifetime."

"Would you like me to call it you again?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. He takes a second to study your face, painting an image of your beauty in his mind to remember you by until the next time he saw you. "Or, perhaps you want me to call you something else?"

"Perhaps I just want us to dance."

He nods, releasing one of your hands, and interlocking his fingers with the other. "Then lead the way, chérie," he feigns a gasp, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile, "that was number six."

TAGLIST:

@lovelynikol16 @bracedes @chelseagirl98

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader

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matchingbatbites · 1 year

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Love Grows - Part 2

More teen dad Steve! This shaping up to be around 8-9 parts, so keep an eye out for more!

Ao3 | Part 1 | Part 3

March '85

Steve gets more comfortable bringing Rosemary to school. Twice a week he brings the 6 month old along as he goes to class, and when Eddie asks him about it one day, Steve just shrugs. "I used to pay for a sitter on those days, because the usual one can't watch her, but I'd rather have her with me since everyone knows anyway." And yeah, that makes sense.

Eddie starts taking her during Steve's free period, so the guy has a chance to do some schoolwork without worrying about keeping an eye on his kid. He enjoys it, the time he gets with Rosie one-on-one, but he really enjoys lunch on those days, because Steve will bring her out to Eddie's van - which Eddie scrubbed clean before offering the first time - and they'll eat lunch and talk while Rosie stretches out in the soft blankets laid out in the back.

He gets some weird looks, including the occasional piercing stare from Nancy Wheeler that he pointedly ignores, as well as his own share of whispers whenever he goes around with Rosie. He’s grateful that the years of acting out, of perfectly honing his loud, unruly persona has left him immune to the chatter. All that matters is Rosie, and Steve, and making sure they’re both taken care of.

The first time Steve asks him to watch Rosie outside school hours, he is visibly stressed. Apparently there's a big basketball game this Friday night and Steve's usual sitter is unavailable, and is there any way he could watch Rosie for a couple of hours? Please?

There's a little voice in the back of Eddie’s mind that screams about it being a Hellfire night, and a baby would be too distracting, would just get in the way. The tantrum is quickly silenced when Steve shoots him those pleading, hazel puppy eyes, and fuck, Eddie’s resolve falls like a house of cards. On Friday he finds himself taking Rosie's carrier and diaper bag as Steve rambles on a little, clearly nervous.

"I fed her like an hour ago, so she should be okay until after the game. She should stay asleep the entire time, but if she wakes up, just hold her- And you know what you're doing, I don't know why I'm going on about this."

Eddie can't help the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches out to pat Steve's shoulder. "It's fine, man. You're worried about the game and you're projecting. It'll be okay."

Steve nods and takes a breath. "Do you want me to meet you back here after the game? Or I can come to wherever you are to get her, if that's easier."

Eddie hoists the diaper bag higher on his shoulder. "I’m actually going to be hanging around for a little while. There's a room back behind the drama department, you can meet me there to pick her up."

“Yeah, I can do that,” he says, hands twisting nervously in the strap of his own bag, and Eddie leans over, nudges Steve with his elbow. “You’re gonna do great, Stevie. You’ll have to tell me all about it when you pick up Rosie.”

Steve seems to appreciate the encouragement, gives Eddie a soft “Sure thing,” as they walk into the school together, and the younger waves before they split up and head their separate ways.

Eddie's friends are baffled when they see Rosie, her carrier placed in a spare seat so he can see her easier, and yeah, Eddie gets it. They know that he watches her sometimes, have seen him around with her, but he’s never brought her into their circle before.

Gareth is the first to actually comment on it with a curious "Hey, Eddie? Why do you have Harrington's baby?"

"Because, Gareth, I'm an excellent babysitter, and my services were needed."

He sends Gareth a blinding smile and the younger rolls his eyes, opens his mouth to say something but is cut off when Andy smacks his hand on the table.

"Listen, Eddie. I know you've got your whole, whatever the fuck, going on with Harrington, but Hellfire is sacred, man! You can’t just bring in a fucking baby because King Steve asked you to!"

The room goes quiet at the outburst, and Eddie takes a breath, places his hands on the table and leans forward as he levels a look at the guy. "Steve is raising this baby by himself, and when he needed a hand he came to me because he trusts me, and I agreed because he’s my friend. If you have a problem with me helping out a friend, Andy, then you can fucking leave."

There’s a beat as Eddie stares him down, dares him to say something else before Andy looks away, and Eddie nods firmly as he relaxes a bit, satisfied that there won’t be any more objections about Rosie being there. He starts the session soon after, and the interaction slips to the back of his mind as they all focus on the game

Despite Steve's assurances, Rosie wakes up after about an hour, but before Eddie can reach over to shush her, Gareth is on his feet. He pulls her from the carrier and cradles her in his arms, and when Eddie shoots him a look he just shrugs.

"I haven't been able to do this since Maggie was a baby, let me have this, man."

Right, Eddie forgot about the fucking eleven year gap between Gareth and his little sister. The guy probably has more baby experience than Eddie and Steve combined, and that's the only reason Eddie allows it to happen, not because Gareth looks so quietly happy to be holding a baby again. He almost says something when Matt takes her a little while later, but Gareth shows him how to hold her, how to make sure she's comfortable, and Eddie settles down, keeping an eye out while still running the game.

Over the next hour, Rosie gets passed around the table. When someone's arms get tired, she goes on to the next person, although Chris pointedly passes over Andy and hands her directly to Jeff. Eddie smirks at the slight disappointment on Andy's face, and the smug delight on Jeff’s as he cradles the sleeping baby close, shushes her gently when she lets out a weak cry.

The whole scene makes Eddie proud, proud that his boys aren’t afraid to show this level of care for a child they don’t even know, that belongs to someone they have a history of disliking.

They're completely engrossed in the game when there's a knock on the door, and Eddie looks up to see Steve entering the room. He looks around and frowns, and Eddie feels a rush of - panic? resolve? - when he glances over to see Jeff still holding Rosie.

Steve makes his way over to Eddie, and the older braces himself for a rude comment, prepares to defend his flock, to the point that he’s surprised when instead, Steve says "You could have told me you already had plans for tonight, Eddie. I would have found someone else."

The weight in Eddie's stomach lifts a little, and he scoffs as he steps over to take Rosie from his friend. “It’s fine, Steve. She’s been silent as a mouse, a perfect angel, honestly.” Steve hums skeptically, watches as Eddie straps Rosie back into her carrier before handing it and the bag over.

Eddie motions to the door, follows Steve out and closes it behind them as he says "Listen, Steve, I'm sorry. I should have asked before I let anyone else hold her, but Gareth started it and he knows a lot about babies because of his sister, and then Matt took her from him before I could and-"

He cuts himself off when he sees the amused smile on Steve's face, and he gives a confused "What?"

Steve shakes his head. "I don't mind if your friends hold her, Eddie. She's pretty used to being held, and they seemed to be careful with her."

"You don't mind if everyone holds her?" Eddie asks, trying to be subtle, and Steve, beautiful, smart Steve, just smiles wider.

"You know, when I got my face beat in by Billy Hargrove last year, it's because he was being a racist asshole towards one of my kids. I wasn't gonna stand for it, so I put myself between him and Lucas. He broke a plate over my head for it." He settles the diaper bag higher on his shoulder and takes a step back. "Your friends seem nice, Eddie. Maybe you can introduce me next time?"

Steve seems to be making a habit of surprising him, and Eddie can't stop the smile that spreads across his face as he nods. "Sure thing, Stevie. Get home safe, yeah?"

"Will do. Night, Eddie," he says before walking off, and Eddie is alone in the hall when he responds with a soft "Night, sweetheart."

Tag list:

@luciana-rowan @bidisastersworld @little-gae-shit @thehumblefigtree @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcarin @estrellami-1 @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @livelaughlexa @vampireinthesun @zerokrox-blog @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @idea-less-author @thegingerrapunzel @fantasyfr3ak @stevesbipanic @electrick-marionnett @tuesdaycats @seths-rogens @flustratedcas @qomrades @artiststarme @death-the-elf @stardustonpages @trensu @otaku-bell-livemotto @thev01dd @demolvr

If you asked to be tagged and you're not in this list, it means I tried to tag you and your name didn't come up! Feel free to ask again, and I'll try again on the next part.

#enjoy some hellfire boys being soft (mostly)#teen dad steve #love grows #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joey writes #if you want to be tagged please say so in the tags/replies #edit: now with ao3 link!

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hiskillingjar · 6 months

Text

rosemary's baby

Relationship(s): Ren Hana/Reader, Fox/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Extremely Dubious Consent, Sexual Coercion, Brain Break, Breeding, Impregnation, Bondage, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Length: 3000+ words

Summary: Fox always wanted a baby of his own. You should be so lucky to be the one to give it to him.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50675575

"Such...perfect...breeding material."

Your eyes shot wide open and terrified at the dark intention behind his words, pulling tightly at the thick bondage that was keeping you belted and spread out on his bed (was it even his? Had you been given the luxury of seeing his real self yet?), like a medical specimen pinned down and ready for examination, for dissection.

Your heart hammered desperately fast underneath your rib cage as he paced around the bed, his tail wagging idly behind him, a dreadfully amused look in his golden eyes.

"Oh god," You murmured softly, looking back towards the ceiling and doing your best to steady your breathing, lest you hyperventilate and send yourself into a panic attack.

"I know, pet, I know." He chuckled, a little breathlessly, his voice dripping with a cruel kind of desire as he leaned down towards you, the soft wisps of his hair grazing your cheeks as he ran a claw down your trembling body, assessing you like breeding stock . "But I know what you crave. I know what your body wants, even more than you do. And I know what I crave as well..." He said, then kneeling on the bed and moving close to you, the claws replaced by the soft pads of his fingers. He hadn’t worked a day in his life, not properly. "Such gorgeous breeding stock…and you're so fertile right now. I can smell it."

"Mmph..." You whimpered helplessly, your expression tight and your face hot as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to squirm underneath him a little more, trying to get away from all of this.

You were more scared of this than anything else he had done to you, more than the filming room, more than the threats of auction, anything. He had invaded you countlessly before this, of course, but never to such a degree that he would take away every ounce of bodily autonomy that you had, reduce you down to an object to be used for something so invasive.

You could feel your sense of humanity dilapidating with every second as he tilted his head, still assessing you with a hungry look on his smiling face.

"Your body is perfect for the task. And yet, here I am," He didn’t even try to hold back a laugh as his touch trailed down your sternum and to your trembling belly, his expression lost in thought for a moment, like he was thinking, imagining what he could do to you. "Without a litter to call my own." His voice was soft for a moment then, considered. "Maybe I'll fill you up and get the job done right now."

Your eyes shot wide again as he placed a hand on your thigh and pinned it still, forcing your body open for him, the cool air on your hot cunt making you flinch again.

"No, nononono, please, don't," You babbled, your words pleading and desperate as your eyes began to well with tears, your face flushed and hot. “Fox, sir, please, I don’t want it, please please please, don’t-”

"Mmph, are you thinking those thoughts, my pet?" He whispered with a salacious grin, his tongue darting out to lick his teeth in a lustful leer as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in your tears, your desperation. It seemed that your pleading was just getting him all the more excited. "Are you already thinking about a litter of my puppies growing inside of you?"

You wanted to sob, you were so wound up and frightened of the idea, but you couldn’t deny that you were thinking about it quite intently, now that he was saying all of these awful things. Your face was flushed and your body invited him closer, however involuntarily you would have claimed it to be, as his touch trailed down to your inner thighs, feeling the smear of pre-cum against your skin.

"Isn't that what you want, my pet? Your body certainly wants it," He breathed out a sigh, his voice dripping with perverse lust, the grip on your other thigh tightening just a little further, his claws digging into the soft skin, marking you with bleeding red. "You're craving it, aren't you? Even if you protest otherwise." He whispered, bringing his face close to yours again, his nostrils flaring, scenting you.

You whimpered again, jerking your head upwards, away from his invasive gaze, and biting your lip as he took a long inhale of your scent, sweat, tears, pre-cum pooling down your thighs at the sound of his threats, how fertile you already were.

Could he even smell that?

"A puppy of my very own. You could give that to me, pet. Isn’t that a wonderful thought? Aren’t you proud?" He breathed out an unsteady exhale, looking down at you with an expression of relentless hunger despite how frightened you were, despite how much you were trying to avoid his gaze. "Or perhaps two or three, filling your womb with my litter." He whispered, his mouth practically watering at the thought. "So many pretty, little puppies..."

“God,” You moaned helplessly, whimpering as your body squirmed and twisted even more. Your fluttering eyes went to the ceiling again as you pulled at the belts around your wrists, praying for a God who wouldn’t listen, your lips trembling and babbling prayers for somebody, anybody. “This isn’t a dream. This is happening, this is really happening…”

"Mmmph,” He ignored your pleas and moaned softly, pressing his face into your middle and straddling one of your spread legs, pressing his hips down against it, letting you feel just how excited this idea was already making him. "Such soft flesh, and those breasts…” He mumbled hotly into your skin, nipping and biting as he stared down at you like a man starved, trying to meet your eyes and show you just how much he wanted this. “So swollen and red and ready to feed my children."

You gasped, high and keening and desperate, as he dipped his head and tongued your nipple to emphasise his point further, as his hands went up and caressed your tummy, groping the soft flesh (imagining how it would look when you were carrying his young).

You would have to get used to sharp teeth on your breasts though, if you were to carry his young, as they would surely have teeth and fangs like his...god, he even had you thinking about it. Little babies with fur and ears and sharp teeth, suckling at your breasts…it was the thing of horror stories, and yet, you felt your clit twinge at the idea.

"Your body was made for this," He breathed out raggedly against your breast, his voice dripping with lust and desire as one hand went down to your other thigh and pushed it upwards, spreading your legs, getting you ready for him to take as he pleased. "A body made for breeding, pet..." His other hand then went up to your breast and groped hard, threading a claw through the ring through your nipple as he nipped and sucked at the other, making you shriek. "All those lovely curves. Those full hips, those legs...those breasts made to be nursed by hungry, hungry pups." He whispered hotly, breathing against your ear as his hips continued to rut down erratically. "Imagine it. My puppies filling you, and…hah, and sating themselves by your flesh."

"Mph..." You moaned softly, your eyes fluttering as he pressed himself against you, his whispered words hot and breathy in your ear as he groped your thigh, your chest, rutting himself down against you so that you could feel just how hard he was.

Would he let you play mother, you wondered?

Would he let you leave the role of a pet, a barely living and breathing sex toy that he didn’t even have a name for, and actually be a person again?

Maybe it would be worth the invasion, if he promised you that small mercy.

"Look at me. In my eyes.” He snarled then, the hand on your thigh reaching up and gripping your chin, pressing your head back against the pillows of the bed and staring down into your eyes, his own almost feral with desire. “You could be a perfect little breeding doll, for me and me alone. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to serve me?"

You tried to pull back as his grip on your chin tightened a little more, his claws digging into your soft cheeks and piercing your skin, making you look up into the mad glint of his eyes, his tongue licking his jaws again indulgently.

He really meant every word of this.

He was serious.

If there was a God, they weren’t going to save you. Not from this.

Maybe a part of you was relieved by that, that you had no chance of being saved from this life that Fox had been so generous to give you.

A small part that was growing with every day.

"And I'll never sell you either," He then shook his head with a little smile, an expression you hadn’t seen on his face before, that gave away a boyish innocence that you didn’t expect to ever see from Fox. "You'll belong to me, forever, I can promise you that mercy, pet. You’ll give me as many puppies as I want, and I’ll keep you, forever and ever, and make you mine…”

You whimpered helplessly, your wide eyes watering as you took in an unsteady breath, before you were jerked out of the quasi-trance that he had put you under, as he shifted to kneel between your spread thighs, and reached down to unzip his suit trousers.

"NGH!"

You grunted loudly as you were suddenly, without warning, stuffed full with his hard cock, sliding inside of you with barely any effort you were that wet, your eyes squeezing shut out of impulse as your body grew tight and tense, your muscles straining against the belts that bolted you to the bed.

You could already feel the base of his knot swelling as he rutted his hips down against yours, your body moving in time with him. The sensation by itself wasn't wholly overwhelming, you had taken him plenty of times and in much worse scenarios, but...that combined with the ideas he'd put in your head throughout all of this was making you cry out and whimper.

"Imagine how lovely you’ll be, nursing our babies. Those little sweet little puppies that came from you," His voice was a ragged whisper in your ear, looking you over as he thrust his cock deep inside you, in and out, a relentless machine working hard for what he wanted. "Feeding them from your body, taking care of them, loving them...do you...do you think you could do it?" He then purred, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he brought a hand down to cup your breast again, toying with the swelled nipple as a means to tease, not to torture. “Would you do it for me, baby?”

You bit your lip as he groped you, as he toyed with all your most sensitive spots and got your mind hazy and delirious with pleasure, so you couldn’t possibly say no to his offer, but you couldn't deny that even without the pleasing sensations, it was...a pleasant thought.

Taking care of your children with your body, tending to little beast-kin pups that looked like him and you combined, conjoined, a mixture of the very best of your features and the very best of his.

You had nightmares about the prospect in your real life, but that was a lifetime ago now. That was an entirely different person. The person you were now understood what a privilege it would be to do this for him, to carry and birth his young.

He was always so generous with you.

"Do you want that?" He whispered, his voice almost sounding sincere as he continued to thrust into you, as the hand on your chin went upwards and cupped your cheek gently, a sign of affection usually reserved for lovers. “Do you want my children?”

"Yes...yes, sir," You panted, your mind half-mad (all mad, certainly) as you took desperate lungfuls of air, just trying to keep present and conscious when you were so close to losing yourself.

"Good girl, gooood girl," He purred with his own delirious smile, his hands gripping your body, his caresses becoming more possessive, more lustful, and more demanding. "Say it again...say you want it with your words, baby. Come on now."

"I want to be your breeding doll," You moaned open-mouthed, your body arching and your head thrown back as you thrashed underneath him, like you were possessed, losing yourself in your own pleasure as he slowly eased and pressed even deeper, his knot spreading you wide open. "I want your puppies!"

His own face was a little flushed just hearing you, and his breaths became ragged and his expression feral and hungry.

"You'll do it all and you’ll do it so perfectly, sweetheart,” He murmured, his breathing heavy and his hand squeezing your chest even harder, marring your skin, your soft flesh. “You'll be my pet, my little breeding doll, yes, yes, always. You'll raise my litter of beautiful little puppies...they'll be our family. Do you hear me, pet?" He growled then, a mad grin of sharp teeth growing wider as he looked down at you, his whole body shaking with lustful excitement. "Do you hear me? They’ll always have us, always…we’ll never abandon them or hurt them, will we?"

“No, sir,” You murmured, your voice slurring as your cunt swallowed his knot greedily, your muscles clenching so tight that Fox couldn’t resist a long moan, pressing his forehead against your collarbone as he pounded even deeper.

“Good girl,” He growled, his golden eyes growing dark with desire as he glared back up towards you. “You’ll be such a good mother, such a good mommy…”

You whined softly, pressing your naked body up against his (the best that you could while you were still belted down), totally boneless despite how much you were struggling, as he pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth, claiming your lips in a rare display of possessive affection for you. His eyes were wide with excitement, his body pulsing with desire as he claimed you completely.

His breathing came out short, heavy inhales against your neck once he pulled away from the kiss, as his mouth continued to work desperately for more of you, bites against your jaw, your neck.

“I caaan’t,” You whined desperately, squeezing your eyes shut and panting against his skin as he placed a hand on your throat, his lips against your cheek, almost a kiss. “Nghh, too much, please…”

His grip on your throat tightened slightly. It's not quite a choke hold, but it's getting there.

"Shhh..." He whispered softly, his mouth breathing hot and heavy against your cheek, giving you a little nip, adorning you with more bruises that tied you to him. "You can do this, mommy. You want this. Need it. "

Your eyes rolled back into your skull as he gripped your throat even tighter, your breath stuttering and your body incredibly tense as you focused all of your attention on normalising your breathing, feeling the pulsing heat of his cock pounding into your cunt. His grip on your throat was slowly tightening just a little more, the pressure now bordering on actual choking.

He wanted you to feel him completely, and for you to give him everything you had.

Your sanity, your mind, your body, your womb.

“Tell me you want it,” He demanded with a shocking amount of finality to his words, biting his own lip so hard that it was almost rupturing the skin, making himself bleed from his own desire. “One more time, so I know. So I know…”

"Breed me," You pleaded, your eyes fluttering as you looked up at him, like he was the God that you were praying to. "Give me your puppies, Fox, please..."

Fox’s fingers tightened around your neck as he heard your desperate words, his lips trembling just a touch against your cheek as he let out a low grunt from the very back of his throat. He pulled back from your cheek and ran his tongue over the patch of marred skin on your shoulder, his teeth slowly beginning to sink into you again, his mouth tasting with desperation to be even closer to you.

You couldn’t hold back a pained moan as his mouth worked aggressively against your skin, as he devoured your body with lust, hunger, and pleasure, his sharp teeth puncturing the delicate skin of your shoulder and his hips somehow moving faster and more erratically, on the very precipice of pleasure himself. His breathing was heavy as he felt your body surrender completely to the pleasure, and all he could think about is giving you more and more of it.

"I've got you..." He whispered, a low growl against your neck, his words catching just a touch as he pressed a bloody kiss to your jaw. "I'm not letting you go until I'm done with you. "

"Never let me go," You slurred softly, your mouth staying open with desperate gasps as his grip on your neck tightened even more, your vision starting to go fuzzy. “Never let me go…”

With that, with a vicious snarl from the very back of his throat, a second aggressive bite pressed into your shoulder, and his claws digging deep into your chest, marring you with bloody injuries as he always did, he stilled with a spasm, and you felt him spill deep, deep inside of you.

Finally letting go of your neck, Fox drew back and pressed his body against yours, his grip on your chest slackening as he let out a deep and long sigh of satisfaction. He buried his head against your neck uncharacteristically, searching for the warm space between your shoulder and your jaw, and his mouth resting against your skin as he panted, doing his best to recouperiate as you lay slack underneath him

You were barely conscious as you took in your own heaving breaths, but you could feel him move your thighs to rest over the top of his knees, hitching your body up and…well, giving his puppies the best chance inside of you.

You didn’t stop a delirious smile coming to your face as you felt his seed inside of you.

You would lie here for days if you needed to.

To give him what he wanted. And what you surely wanted now too.

#the price of flesh #fox tpof #ren hana #ren x reader #ren x mc #fox x reader #fox x mc #i've been thinking a lot about the inherent body horror of pregnancy so. this i guess #this is part of kinktober i just wanted to do a separate posting for this since it's a long un

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