#just please try to do research on this man before writing him because he’s a extremely complex character | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrpenguinpants · 1 year

Text

Overdue Bills

— He knows your fake relationship with him was made purely for beneficial reasons. After everything was said and done, you both went your separate ways. So why does he keep coming back to you?

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 1: Please go out with me for tax benefits! -> Not connected but can also be read: I refuse to fall in love out of spite [ TBA ] [Masterlist]

Does this feel rushed because it is. I assumed everyone wanted a continuation but I plan on writing another fic using the original prompt but for different characters. The titles have nothing to do with the fics but I really wanted to title this, we've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty.

Alhaitham

There's only so much Kaveh can handle before he hits a breaking point and this might be it. A few months ago he overheard the librarian ask a stranger how their boyfriend Alhaitham was doing, to which he nearly broke his neck in how fast he turned. From the long pause and the plain answer of, "he's fine", which Alhaitham most definitely isn't given how much work the sages are dumping onto their scribe, Kaveh came to the conclusion that you're another creepy admirer or an attention-seeking leech. While Kaveh wouldn't call Alhaitham something as close as a friend, the man at least deserved to know there was another deranged person spreading lies. He assumed Alhaitham would confront you, knock some sense into you, and that would be the end of it. But because Alhaitham operates on a level that's incomprehensible to Kaveh, instead you've both entered into a fake dating relationship that he honestly believes is a horrible idea. But Alhaitham is his roommate, not his friend, and he doesn't have the time or care to facilitate a non-existent love life. But lo and behold the next time he sees you, there's a silver-haired man is hovering nearby looking at you with the closest thing to love his stoic face can make. Things are only weirder when Kaveh brings the sight up to you, saying that you're both taking this fake dating in stride and he's honestly impressed at how Alhaitham really put his all into this performance. Only for you to look at him as if he's grown two heads. You and Alhaitham stopped dating weeks ago.

Alhaitham isn't stupid. There's only so much rationalization he can turn to and so many excuses he can make but at the end of the day, he has to admit that he never works better than he does sitting beside you. At first, he reasoned that it was because people didn't bother him as much and you knew how to be quiet. Perhaps that's why you've skyrocketed in his requirements of friendship despite the fact that you both weren't really friends. But then he couldn't sit alone without getting restless. There’s an empty space beside him that constantly makes itself aware in his subconscious. One that screams at him that he wants you to be there, not just because you can scare people away.

It's a slow realization from there starting with him comparing you and Kaveh. For as much as he and his senior argue back and forth almost every time they meet, Alhaitham considers Kaveh an excellent mirror to him that can push his thoughts to go further. But you're different. That realization turns into contemplation when you actually listen and take his advice. Every scholar is egotistical to some degree, there's a lot of pride to take into your research, and having your weeks of hard work be written off by a blunt statement gets people angry. Alhaitham would be the first to know, he's been on the receiving end of that anger multiple times. Yet when he points out a section in your thesis to be incorrect, you simply tilt your head thinking before agreeing he was right. Crumbling your paper, ready to start all over again without any fuss. Still water versus the wave that Kaveh is. While some would call that boring, he finds it charming.

The nail in the coffin is when he catches himself labeling the chair next to him as yours. He can't justify that one and he's suddenly confronted that he severely underestimated how much he's grown to like you. He originally agreed to the idea to keep his comfortable routine without any interruptions and your introduction would fix his issue of suitors but you've played your part so perfectly that he fell for it. He was tempted to stop talking to you altogether, cutting the deal off entirely and never speaking to you again. But you're not a saint and just as he realized his feelings, your thesis was done and you left abruptly before he had any time to prepare. A glaring empty spot mocking him. Only to come back with your stacks of books and a nervous smile that Alhaitham refuses to acknowledge makes his heart beat just the slightest bit quicker.

He knows you can hear the whispers that you and Alhaitham have gotten back together. Yet you haven't said anything and he politely chooses to not say anything either. The rumors certainly haven't stopped you from acting differently and he doesn't know if that's a good thing. He knows your language is touch but now he wants to be the one near you this time. That way the first person you’ll speak to is him. By now he’s fully aware of his feelings and how far they’ve developed for him to actually start feeling possessive. So the next time you lean against him to show him a particular paragraph of a book, he wraps a hand around your waist, disguising it as him shifting you to the side so he can get a better angle to read. Under his hand, he can feel how tense you become at the casual touch, how your eyes jump from him to the floor, before relaxing and continuing on.

In hindsight, he knows by all rational reasoning he should just confess to you and get it over and done with. But there's something exciting in the way you look at him with calculating eyes that he stares back at unflinching. He thinks of it as payback for you strolling into his carefully planned life and making a mess. He’s simply allowing himself to indulge in it. Now every time you greet him with a wave, he offers a smile. When you want to drag him somewhere by the cape, he slips his hand into yours stating you'll stretch the fabric too much. And when you need to whisper something in his ear? He'll practically be in your lap with how close he leans in even if there's no one else in the room. He knows eventually you'll catch on to what he's trying to do, what he's trying to say. You've been practicing for months sitting beside him. It's finally when he invites you to the pavilion that he can see the realization on your face that Alhaitham clearly doesn't consider you just a friend. The look of bewilderment goes back and forth with suspicion before finally settling into an amused huff with the smallest of smiles.

It's late enough into the day that he knows the only people lingering in the Akademiya are either passed-out students or scholars too wrapped up in their work. All consideration he's taken to make sure you're both uninterrupted for this moment. And what a moment it is. The pavilion itself is beautiful with its blue and green stained glass windows that reflect the evening sun. The yellow flowers swaying gently in the breeze add just enough color to not be irritating. Kaveh might need to retract his statement that Alhaitham doesn't know a thing about romance because it's painfully obvious what's about to happen.

"Any more and people might get the wrong idea you know," you say as you lean against the white wall. The look of confusion is gone from your eyes, replaced with mirth. It does not make him shudder.

"About what? The library is cramped with people and the pavilion is quiet," he says like it's an off-handed comment before turning around, leaning his weight against his elbows on the railing as he turns to the side to look at the view this specific pavilion provides. "Although I can understand where you might have drawn that conclusion. I can assure you nothing like that will happen. You're not my type."

He can physically feel you bristle even though he isn't looking at you before your footsteps come closer and closer until your form is right in front of him. He still refuses to look at you but he can tell the moment you see his poorly hidden smile. He hears you let out an amused huff before you bring your hands up and settle them against the railing as well. Only you've decided to cage him in between your arms and it makes him turn to you, raising a brow. He's already lost the moment he turned but the cheeky grin you have is worth it. You look really cute when you're smug.

"If I had any interest, it would have died a long time ago. You're the worst fake boyfriend I've ever had so I can't imagine how insufferable you'll be as a real one," you shake your head exasperated but there's a small entertained look that tugs at his heart. That you know what he knows and he knows what you know. A similar feeling of understanding that he's gotten so used to. One that lets him act in such an irrational way.

"You've had others?" he asks as his arm comes off the railing to settle around your waist. You don't push him away, easily following along.

"For such a pretty face you have such an awful personality," you sigh disappointed yet the arms that cage him move to settle around his neck, twirling the silver hair at the base of his neck as you lean closer until there isn't space between the two of you.

"Oh? So you think I'm pretty?" He tilts his chin slightly down, his lips brushing against yours.

"You must have selective hearing." With your faces so close, he can see the excitement in your eyes. He's sure that he is the same. So he ignores the pleased look on your face and leans in.

Ayato

Ultimately, he's just a passerby. He decided on a whim to go along with some absurd act because he thought the sheer dread and embarrassment on your face was amusing and he wanted to see more. By all accounts, your temporary date wasn't too bad. It felt a bit refreshing being with someone that looked like they rather throw themselves in the nearby sea than stand next to the refined Yashiro Commissioner. But otherwise, that's the end of your relationship. With a few words here and there, he managed to spin the absurd story into his favor and reign in the disaster your little stunt might have caused. He's grateful that you so easily play along with him. Not a single complaint about how he lies through his teeth that someone was bothering you so he extended his help so this individual would leave you alone. It makes both of you, mostly him, look good. How people rush to make sure you're okay while your expression flickers between guilt and embarrassment is far more entertaining than anything he originally planned during this outing. But at the end of the day, you have nothing to do with each other and he owes you nothing. Your presence is ultimately inconsequential in the stream that is his life. That is until one day your relationship changes to stupidity and heartfelt sincerity.

It starts off as a joke. Ayato tends to latch onto small things that give him a momentary break from his busy and stressed lifestyle and duties. Plus there's something lighthearted about this situation that he doesn't want to let go of just yet. Unfortunately for you, Ayato's newfound joy is sneaking up on you and sending you into an early grave. The first time it was an accident, you just happened to be easily jumpy, but the second time though? The resounding screech of terror never fails to make a smile appear on his face and you're convinced that he's a sadist. He doesn't even have to try that hard, his steps are silent even against the crooked stone path that he can waltz up right behind you. But his absolute favourite part is bending down and whispering what exactly his fiancee is so interested in. It always leads to embarrassing talks of you politely asking him to not refer to you with that title anymore that he swiftly blocks by mentioning that, wasn't it you who called him your fiancee first? You should take responsibility.

He thinks your reactions are cute even if you're a bit vulgar in language, although to him that just adds to the warped sense of charm he finds in you. Thoma nearly chokes on his own spit when Ayato perks up at something behind him, suddenly dropping the calm facade of the Yashiro Commissioner and something more genuine before calling out to a "fiancee". Thoma whips around to see a stranger speaking with Yoimiya before their eyes lift and lock with Ayato's and their expression immediately sour. He doesn't think he's ever seen anyone show such a disgusted expression and he can't help but wonder what his lord has done this time. Before Thoma can say anything the stranger picks up a firework ball and hurls it at his Lord who easily sidesteps the attack, the resounding death threats only making the blue-haired man laugh.

It's fun. You're fun to be around. The entire situation is silly and ridiculous and it feels nice. Ayato had to grow up too fast, become an adult too fast, and shoulder the burden meant for later years. Something as small as a nickname, an inside joke, something he can bring up to spite someone just for the fun of it is nice. Perhaps that's why he refuses to let go and finds himself returning to you.

It's all a joke. There's no way Ayato can actually take your hand in marriage. Not with your differences in status. You think that's the only reason people entertain the idea, why he even entertains the idea. To get a reaction out of you that he can relentlessly tease and it's all so stupid. That is until he receives a different reaction that leaves him lost and confused.

You stumble upon him in the aftermath of another one of his assassination attempts. He was perfectly fine, not even a speck of dust on his white coat yet you were nearly in hysteria. Panicked hiccups as you sob uncontrollably into his chest, your tears doing far more damage to dirtying his clothes than an attempt on his life. He tries his best to console you but you can't seem to stop the tears and as much as he values staying dignified, he's almost at his limit. Hand already poised to yank you off until he falters in both mind and body when you suddenly turn your head up and he sees the expression that you hid away in the lapels of his coat. The feeling of the annoyance of having to wash his coat flew out of his mind at the sight of your teary eyes and downturned lips. A small, very small, part of his heart beats just a bit faster. An even smaller part that was buried under the title of Yashiro Commissioner perks its head over someone who was crying for him. Even though you've both talked multiple times, you and he aren't close enough to be considered friends, at least in his eyes. Yet you're currently looking at him as if you're the one that's been attacked because of the simple fact that he could have been hurt. It's...strange.

He doesn't say anything as you usher him into your home to fix up whatever injuries you happened to have conjured in your mind. He's never stepped foot into your residence and he's honestly glad he hasn't because your home is...disheartening, to say the least. He thinks the estate has more life than what was supposedly something you called home. It's not that your place is poor, you're not sleeping on a slab of rock, but it's empty. Like you don't have anything at all. The only thing you seem to carry is your small pile of books. Worn but well taken care of. So he doesn't say anything as you fuss over him, doesn't say anything about the horrendous first aid kit you bring, and bids you farewell at the door of your home. You smile at him widely and tell him to take care of himself. But when he turns to leave, he risks one last peek at you, just in time to see you close your door. You aren't smiling anymore. He stops walking.

It starts to escalate from there. The following months of sudden change are so abrupt that he has no choice but to follow along. He wants to see every expression you have. If that isn't enough, he'll find new ones for you to make.

Ayato's first impression of you is charming but in a pitiful sort of way. You have to be an airhead, you must be considering your shared first meeting. How you didn't realize your mistake and went along with everything is beyond Ayato. You and Itto are almost on the same level of denseness but while Itto does everything with blind confidence that the situation has changed because of him, you are the opposite. Wandering into your own mess as you ignore all the warning signs until it's too late. But you're also honest and upfront, two traits that Ayato has come to value immensely. He finds you endearing, so much that it's starting to overfill his teacup. So with a silent smile, he asks a question.

"Why don't you become my fiancee?"

The noodle slips between your chopsticks, a loud unflattering splat against the table echoing through the silence as you stare at him slack-jawed. He begins to worry that he's accidentally sent you into a stroke because one of your eyes starts twitching.

"Huh? Are you being for real?" you ask deadpanned. He can't help but chuckle under his fingers before resting his chin on the palm of his hand. It feels nice to be able to rest his elbows against the table without someone reprimanding him for his lack of manners. He finds your dry reaction far cuter than the blushes and swoons from the ladies that the elders forced him to take out.

"Be my fiancee." he pauses before continuing as an afterthought. "For real this time."

You pick up your fallen noodle, chew, swallow, and then point your chopsticks at him. Not convinced in the slightest. "Even if you haven't picked out a fiancee you shouldn't joke about that."

"Really?" he fakes surprise, "Then how come you're on a date with me right now?"

You choke. He pushes his teacup towards you, who takes it and gulps down half of its contents in one go. The glass clinks loudly on the table when you put it down yet it doesn't distract him from the sheer disbelief on your face as your ears grow red. He thinks out of all of the expressions you've given him, he likes this one the most.

"This isn't-It's not," you attempt to say, spluttering the entire time that remnants of the tea you just drank wet your lips.

"Yes, it is. Why? Is it bad? Do you know enjoy being taken out to dinner? I can easily arrange for something else instead," He reached over with a napkin to wipe your face. It only serves to make you more embarrassed that he's treating you like a child as you push his hand away lest you combust on the spot. There's no immediate answer. He can't tell whether you're actually considering his offer, or if you're refraining from throwing your chopsticks at him.

"No thanks. If I've learned anything it's that you'll only torment me until I die. I'm starting to think I like you even less," you grumble, shoving more noodles into your mouth.

Ayato is a strange man so he doesn't wait for the water to spill, just tips the cup over and starts again. This time he waits for you to swallow before saying anything, he doesn't want you to choke again.

"That's unfortunate. I adore you, you know."

Kazuha

While his feelings and words were true, he resigns himself to the fact that your relationship was a one-and-done situation. Impulsiveness isn't one of his qualities but as he reflects on his time with you, he gets a bit flustered at how hard he fell. He had just met you and yet within the span of a couple weeks, you managed to fill out the empty parts of his heart. He tries to rationalize that it was just the timing. He had been on the run for so long, his thoughts always chained around Inazuma, and upholding his promise to his friend. But then you happened to crash into his life, quite literally, and everything slowed to a stop at that moment. Originally it was just to protect you from a clingy admirer but then you started asking about him. What his hobbies were, what kind of dreams he had, and whether or not he would like to learn how to fly. Every day and night sitting beside you on the crow's nest, the gentle sway of the waters rocking the boat, and the backdrop of noise down on the deck was the most serene Kazuha has ever felt since he left Inazuma. But all things must come to an end eventually and even though Kazuha knows that this might be the end, you look so hopefully at him that he can't help but try to push the end to tomorrow. He just needs to garner the strength to move.

Beidou asks if he's sure about his decision to leave the Crux and wander on his own. It's not nice to make you wait even though she knows you and when you say you'll wait, you're going to damn wait no matter how long it takes. But he reassures her that he's still not ready. As much as he wants to run over the water back to Liyue, he doesn't want to bring along conflicted and aimless feelings. But he will hurry, he's been running for so long, he can run a little further for something and someone for himself. It's a bit selfish but Beidou gives him an exasperated soft smile that lets him know it's not a bad thing. Although with each passing day Beidou's ship ports, it gets harder and harder for her to break the news that Kazuha is still not back. Beidou does her best to reassure you that Kazuha isn't stringing you along, she would have drowned him in the ocean if he was that low of a guy, but she can tell that with each visit your expression grows more and more distant. Watching how you're the first one to rush down the wooden bridges with a hopeful expression that one-day Kazuha might be there only to leave with a sad smile. It makes her want to track her problem child down and bring him back to you. Not that she has any idea where he wandered too.

He ends up in the forests of Sumeru. His keen sense of smell aids him as he treks through the wilderness until he meets a strange forest watcher and a girl in green. Their a bit of an odd pair but so is Kazuha and they become fast friends. Apparently, his calm demeanor is a breath of fresh air and it's enough that they don't pry into his history. Although there are moments when he can feel their eyes on him. Perhaps living in the forest has led them both to be aware of subtle changes far better than Kazuha can smell. It starts when they trek towards the small lakes and waterbeds to gather niloptala lotus for Tighnari that he sees it. An anemone flower. Soft white petals with a dark blue center sway in the breeze as he stands watching it move. It's Collei who approaches him and explains white anemone flowers, also known as windflowers, symbolize sincerity due to their delicate appearance. According to mythology, the anemone flower was created when Aphrodite's mortal lover, Adonis, was killed and from the spot where her tears fell to the ground, an anemone emerged. She says that he might enjoy that last bit of information to use as inspiration for his many haiku poems because he's looking at the flower as if he's fallen in love. Although she warns him that when fresh, all parts are poisonous.

When Inazuma finally calmed down and Thoma informed him that he was no longer a wanted man, it was the second time Kazuha could take a deep breath and relax. He was free from running and could focus on the future. He won't lie and say that his thoughts didn't stray back to you every night. He's been gone for months and he wonders if you still remember what he looks like. But now he has to ask himself the hard question if he's ready to see you. Unfortunately, he doesn't get to make that choice.

He sees you at Port Ormos by chance, speaking to a silver-haired man before you cut yourself off mid-sentence as your eyes lock onto his. Even with everything Kazuha has been through, he feels scared. He knew he would eventually return to you but now that you're here, is he not ready? Or is he scared? He knew that asking for you to wait was selfish, that one day he may return with your hand in someone else's. Maybe that's why you're all the way in Sumeru rather than the high mountains of Liyue. All these emotions reflect back to you and he can see it, your fists are trembling even as you gaze back at him with conviction and determination. The sun shines right behind you, creating a gold halo over your tousled hair. But it makes the shadows of your strained expression darker, your eyes gloss over your jaw tense, and everything about your posture screams please don't disappoint me Kazuha. Then it's gone. Your attention back to the silver hair man, pretending as if nothing happened. You'll wait until he's ready but you won't acknowledge him when he's not. And Kazuha. Kazuha runs away.

"There you are."

Kazuha looks up to see Tighnari sitting at the table facing the entrance that Kazuha has stumbled through. It's late into the night and because his heart has more room to bear, he feels guilty that Tighnari stayed up to make sure he returned. Before he can apologize Tighnari raises a hand to stop him, sighing before he gestures Kazuha to sit down. Fiddling with his pouch he takes something and slides it across to Kazuha. An Inazuma charm. The same one you gave him when he left.

"You dropped it when you were running through Port Ormos like you had stolen something. I had to convince Cyno that you weren't a thief but you're going to have to apologize to Collei for scaring her like that," he huffs as he settles back into his seat, watching at how Kazuha raises a wary hand to pick up the charm like it'll break under the slightest pressure. It makes Tighnari soften around the edges, the worried lines of his face smoothing out as he rests a hand on the samurai's shoulder. "Are you okay Kazuha?"

It only serves to bring a pained smile to the man's face, shaking his head. No. No, he's not alright. He hasn't felt "alright" in months. He's lived his life thinking that as long as his blade was by his side, he could continue moving. But now it feels like he's slowly dying. Poisoned from the core. He thought he would be able to approach this like he had always been. That he thought he understood what he was doing and trusted the wind to guide him. But now he's confronted with his accountability and he doesn't know what to do but run. Back into the silence of the forest until he can't run any further. Collapsing onto the cold ground as he heaves for another breath. Every moment up until now replays in his head, becoming more vivid no matter how long it's been until he can smell your fragrance. It was a similar feeling to when he lost his friend, this lingering pain. It's why he decided he needed to leave first. He always assumed he remembered because of guilt. Guilt that he asked you to wait, guilt that he wasn't the one that was ready, and guilt that even after all this time he hasn't entered the border of Liyue. Yet no matter how long he goes, this feeling of guilt only remains for you until he doesn't know if that's the correct emotion. If what remains in his heart truly isn't guilt, what is this emotion that keeps him looking back at his memories of you? He doesn't know. It's his first time feeling this way.

"You're in love Kazuha. That's it."

---

There's a sudden ruckus on the ship deck that has Beidou draw her head up, her letter to Ningguang momentarily paused as she listens carefully to what her crew is so noisy about. Their voices are muffled through the thick wooden walls of her office but it doesn't sound like they're in any danger. Either way as the Captain she should check out what everyone is so excited about. She shoulders her fur-lined shawl back on and slams the doors open.

"What's got you all so- Kazuha?!" Beidou nearly chokes midsentence to see her sentence when he spots that familiar white and red hair. Even though it's only been a few months, he looks so much older than she remembers. When he said he wanted to do some soul searching, she didn't think it would make him look so...mature. It's not that his outward appearance is any different, he's still got that adorable baby face, but the air around him is tranquil rather than still.

"Captain, it's good to see you again," Kazuha smiles and gives a small wave. His hand is free of bandages letting her see the electro burns that scar his skin. She politely doesn't let her eyes linger on them for long, that's all in the past anyways. So she grins ear to ear and yanks the poor man into a headlock and a giant slap on the back. Her official way her welcome a trusty companion back.

"About time lover boy, let's get you home."

---

Not me throwing canon personalities and good characterization out the window to push my smitten agenda.

[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@genshins1mpact @creatorofstars @xoneaboveallx @timmyitsmeeee @raingoesboomboom @duhsies @thegayrubberducky @isa-solasun @afoxesgreed @yuuki4646 @angel-luv-04 @inlovewithwaffles @maddymints09 @moonssandstars

@tigerpriestess @endurablerose @ayakohana

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allysunny · 3 months

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Hello 👋 can I pls request dating and jealousy headcanons for Bale! Batman? The reader works in his company and is very sweet and generous? Thank you ❤️

Dating and Jealousy Headcanons | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 6k words

Warnings: None, I would say? Workplace relationship, if that's a tag, hahaha. Jealous and overprotective Bruce, one (1) makeout session and I don't think anything else? Do correct me if I'm wrong.

A/N: Hello everyone! Here's another one of my Bruce asks! I had a really fun time writing it - I love this man so much omg. I hope you guys have as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

Also I apologize if I got any of HR functions and tasks wrong, please do not kill me if they're not correct, I had to do some research, hahaha! Also, I've just realised how vague the information on Wayne Enterprises is. Like, what the hell do they do? I've been rewatching the movies because my family never has, and they're never clear about it lol. Except for the first movie and the whole "Thomas Wayne wouldn't want us to build war weapons" plot, what the hell do they do there???

At first, he had no idea who you were.

And honestly, could you blame him? He’s the owner of this enormous company that employs at least a hundred people.

You were working in the Human Resources department and were praised by every single one of your coworkers. You were the one keeping everything in check, from analysing performance and helping everyone set goals on what they wanted to achieve at work, to organising databases and generating reports. Those jobs should technically be made by at least 3 different people, but you were efficient and very professional, and most of the time took it upon yourself to oversee things and make sure all was running smoothly.

Bruce ran into you for the first time when you were checking on the Applied Sciences department. You had been sitting next to Lucius Fox, keeping a record of all the important work he’d done the last month, as well as going over the paperwork that outlined whatever his job entailed – while still in the AS department, Lucius was now a member of the board once again, and you wanted to make sure he had everything under control – as always, he did.

Bruce had walked in and raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen you before, were you one of his employees? Some relative of Lucius’s? His partner? Who the hell were you, and what were you doing in here?

“Ah, Mr. Wayne.” Lucius said with a nonchalant smile, standing up to shake his hand in a warm greeting. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. I was going over my Monthly Workplace Wellness Check with Miss [L/N] over here, and it seems all is in order.

“Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him, standing up and offering him your hand. This was your boss – the Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, arguably the richest and wealthiest man in the city, the boss, the man you’d never actually seen, but everyone spent no expense in talking about. And they did not lie – the man in front of you was handsome, with dark brown hair carefully slicked back and warm brown eyes that scanned you over carefully. He looked far too good in his navy suit, and you tried your best not to let your gaze linger on him – it would be unprofessional, and you wouldn’t want to be fired for sexual harassment.

Bruce, on the other hand, thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon. Your body was being snuggly hugged by a pretty, dark pencil skirt, and you wore a white dress shirt with flowy sleeves. The first two buttons were open, exposing a small patch of delicate skin and a leaf pendant. Cute.

Slipping his aloof mask back on, he shook your hand, relishing the feel of your hand on his. Your grip was firm – you were clearly trying not to be intimidated by him, but there was also something very tender about it.

“Miss [L/N], is it?” he asked, leaning back and placing his hands inside his pants pockets.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ve never seen you around here – are you new or something?”

You tried not to flush in embarrassment. It’s only normal he wouldn’t even know who you were. After all, he’s got a whole company to take care of. And it’s not like you hung around the top floors a lot – your work was among everyone else, not the board. They had their own assistants for that.

“No sir – I’ve been working here for a few years. I’m HR Director.” You replied, trying to sound confident. This was your job and you’d been doing it very well – extremely well – and you were proud of it. It was a great opportunity to let your boss know of how great of a worker you were.

“HR Director, huh?” Bruce hummed, turning to Lucius once again. “You familiar with Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes sir,” the older man replied, smiling confidently at you. “She’s been overseeing most departments for about five years now. She’s the reason everything’s going so smoothly.”

“Really?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Yes sir, it is,” you nod. “I’m very proud of my job.”

Bruce took one good look at you once again and nodded.

“Fox, I wanted to check on you about some of the, well, some of the orders we placed last week. But seeing that you’re busy, I’ll return later.”

Lucius nodded and sat back down. Unlike you, he felt comfortable around Bruce, even if he was his boss. After all, who else had helped Bruce Wayne spelunking?

“How about I fax you when I’m done?”

“Oh, I can – I could come back later if you wished to talk to Mr. Fox right now?” You asked, quickly turning to your desk to retrieve your clipboard and pens.

“No need, Miss [L/N],” Bruce responded, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt an employee doing a good job. I’ll wait for Fox’s fax.”

You placed your clipboard down and nodded, offering him a small smile.

“Thank you, sir.”

Bruce found himself returning it, before turning to Lucius and nodding in acknowledgement and then walking away.

“I’m quite sure he’s gone, Miss [L/N].” Lucius announced, an amusing smile playing in his lips. You nodded, trying to get that flustered look off your face.

The man next to you supressed a chuckle – he was sure the first thing his boss would do when he got to his office was do a thorough research on his HR Director. And it’s not like he hadn’t noticed the heat that seemed to have crept up on your cheeks. He shook his head and turned to you, focusing on the Wellness Check.

Lucius was right. The first thing Bruce did when he got to his office, was do some research on you. Who you were, what job you held exactly you held, how long you’d been in the company. Not in a creepy way (or so he tried to convince himself), more in a “How come I’ve gone so long without knowing my HR Director? Who knows what kind of people are working in my company, and how come I don’t know them all? Who knows what their true intentions are” kind of way. Not that he doubted you – Lucius wasn’t the type to lie – but he was… Curious. Very curious.

He also decided to ask around about you. No one would know you and your work better than the people that interacted with you daily.

The word around was that you were an exemplary employee. Professional, hardworking, and kind to a fault. Everyone told Bruce about how incredible your work ethic was, and how helpful you were. How you always offered an arm when asked for a hand, how you’d go the lengths to help your coworkers even if it meant you would work overtime.

“She’s quite incredible, Mr. Wayne. Very efficient, very focused,” his board members would tell him, going over the fantastic things you’d done for the company. “She’s actually personally trained each of our interns herself – that’s why they’ve picked up on their work so quickly.”

“I don’t know about your department, but we work better when she’s overseeing us. [Y/N] is really kind, she’s very firm in her job, but never rude. You know what I mean?”

[Y/N], huh? Pretty name.

“She’s an excellent communicator, fights barely happen when she’s around because she makes everyone feel heard and understood.”

“Her initiatives have significantly enhanced our company culture, that’s for sure.”

“Her consistency to always go above and beyond in her efforts would make Thomas Wayne proud. This is what he would’ve wanted Wayne Enterprises to be about.”

There were many the people that mentioned his father’s name along with yours. How he’d be proud of you, how he’d give you a promotion right away, how workers like you were exactly what he needed in his company. And Bruce was intrigued. Because, how come such a gem was working under him, and he had no idea?

He had to change that, clearly.

“Miss [L/N]?” he asked you once as you were about to leave for the day. You turned around and couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened in surprise. What did your boss want? And how come he’d remembered your name?

“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” you looked up at him and tried to focus. A million thoughts were running through your head. What did he want? Why had he chased you? Oh goodness, had he chased you? Had he run a background check on you of some sorts and was unsatisfied with the work you were doing? Were you going to be fired? You couldn’t – you’d been working here for about five years and never once slacked off. This couldn’t be happening, could it?

“I was wondering if you would like to join me to dinner later this week.” The words rolled smoothly out of his mouth, practiced, precise. He knew what he wanted and was not going to play around.

“Dinner?” you repeated, furrowing your brows. “This week? With you?”

“Dinner, this week, yes. That’s what I said.” Bruce nodded, and patiently awaited a response. He knew it might be weird. Your boss, whom you did not know, suddenly asked you for dinner?

You stared at him, running his words over in your head. Your boss wanted to have dinner with you. Your boss. Bruce Wayne wanted to have dinner with you. Part of your brain told you this was a terrible idea. Everyone knew what the papers said about Bruce Wayne, that he was a womanizer, a playboy. You didn’t want to be just another name in a long line of women he slept with.

But there was something inside of you that kept screaming “GO TO DINNER WITH BRUCE WAYNE PLEASE. YOU LITERALLY HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE”.

Except perhaps, your job. What if he asked something of you, something you couldn’t give him? What if he punished you for it? What if, all along, this was a big ploy to check his sources and get you fired?

“Miss [L/N]? Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, looking at you in concern.

Screw it. You were a damn good employee. There was no way your boss was going to fire you, murder you, or whatever other silly ideas were going around in your head. You shook them away and looked at him once again, smiling.

“Yes, sorry. Everything is fine. And yes, dinner sounds really nice. Thank you for inviting me.”

Bruce gave you a polite nod, before looking behind you, where his limo went.

“I will send you the details later then. Is Thursday okay?”

“Yes! Thursday is fine.”

Bruce nodded again, and looked at his limo, this time with a tad more urgency.

“Miss [L/N], I would offer you a ride home, but I have quite the long list of errands to attend to. I will see you later this Thursday then.” He smiled – he smiled – and made his way towards a black limo, where an older man dressed nicely opened the door for him.

You couldn’t help staring as the car drove away.

You were going to dinner with your boss. With Bruce Wayne.

Surely, there was no need to panic, right?

Turns out, there hadn’t been no need to panic at all.

In fact, things went great.

Dinner with Bruce had been surprisingly pleasant.

It started out a bit awkward, with you not really knowing what your position there was, but after Bruce reassured you there was nothing wrong with your performance at work, you relaxed.

And surprisingly, so did he.

He found himself conversing with you the way he hadn’t done in a long time – casually, truthfully, openly. Sure, he didn’t tell you all of the secrets he kept, but he was genuine in his answers about his favourite memories from his childhood, or his hobbies, what season he liked the most, or whatever other question you had for him.

It felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t merely interested in his name or title or wealth. You didn’t seem to care about those, preferring to get to know Bruce Wayne the man, as opposed to Bruce Wayne the name.

He asked you about your life and you replied truthfully as well, telling him stories from when you were growing up, sharing some of your hopes and dreams, and opening up about yourself.

Bruce thought you were fascinating – at first he thought the things people said about your kindness were just polite office talk, but after spending 20 minutes with you, he realised how true they were. You’d smiled at everyone on the way to the restaurant, letting an old couple go inside before you (even though you two had arrived much earlier), refused to ask for anything without a gentle “Please” at the end.

And he could tell you weren’t fake – he was often met with fake smiles and faux politeness everywhere he went, but he could tell you were genuine, and it just made him even more interested in you. After all, not only you were beautiful, with your hair carefully tucked behind your ears, and a fitting dress that, while modest, still managed to make you stand out, but you seemed to be beautiful inside as well.

By the time you got to dessert, you were laughing heartily, head thrown back as joy overtook you. Bruce had been telling you about the worst excuses he’d made to get out of social events, and the last few truly were something. You then realised he was not the man media portrayed him to be. No, he seemed much more down to earth, more focused, more sensible. Not at all the reckless playboy gossip magazines painted him as. It was a pleasant surprise, and you were enjoying every minute of your evening.

At the end of the night, he drove you to your apartment (more like gave you a lift, since his driver – whom you learned to be his butler Alfred – was the one who had taken you to the restaurant in the first place) and walked you to your door, like a true gentleman. You giggled and swayed a bit, having drank a tad too much of wine. You weren’t drunk, no, but you could feel that pleasant buzz flowing through your veins, the one that made you gigglier and happier and made everything a bit funnier.

Bruce steadied you by letting you hold onto his arm and caught you when you tripped on the stairs to your building. You laughed loudly and he pulled you up, allowing you to face him clearly. Your breath caught in your throat, and you giggled once more when you realised how close you were, and how you could feel the alcohol on his breath.

“I really liked tonight,” you said, nodding along to your words. You had been drinking, but you weren’t dumb, and weren’t going to ruin the lovely night you’d had. As far as you were concerned, this could simply be a dinner for him to try and get to know you better, and not anything remotely romantic.

His next words changed your mind.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m sorry if my invitation was abrupt. You’ll have to forgive me, but when I saw you working with Fox that day, I was curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yeah. Everyone said wonders about you, and you seemed like a great worker, and not to mention you’re quite beautiful – “

“You asked about me?” you giggled, covering your mouth with your hand. Somehow, that was the line your brain picked up in this whole conversation. “You’re a stalker!”

“And I apologize for that.” Bruce steadied you once again when you leaned back to laugh and let out a dry chuckle. “But I really enjoyed our evening. I was hoping that you’d accompany me to dinner some other time?”

You looked at him, eyes now getting heavier. The wine was working its magic, and instead of moving around, you stood very still, enjoying the feel of Bruce’s arms around you.

“Dinner? Some other time?”

“Yes.”

“Like a date?” You don’t know what prompted you to say that out loud. That’s what you were wondering, yes, but you weren’t actually going to say it out loud, too scared to face rejection, too scared that this whole thing was a misunderstanding, and he wasn’t interested in you at all.

Bruce looked at you, surprised by your forwardness. Not that he wasn’t thinking the exact same thing – he was – but he thought he’d have to be the one doing the pursuing. After all, he was the “stalker”, as you put it.

“Yes, [Y/N], as a date,” he nodded. “Like a date. As I said, I’m interested in you. I know it might not be appropriate, seeing as I’m your boss, but I won’t lie and say you haven’t caught my eye, and I would really like to go on another date with you.”

You smiled, hands resting on the collar of his coat.

“This was a date?”

He shrugged, “If you want it to be.”

You pretended to think, placing a delicate finger on your chin, and looking away.

“Hmmmm…. I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.” Playing the part, you stepped away from him and tried to climb the stairs to your building door. Unfortunately, your foot caught onto one, and the floor went flying on your direction.

Luckily, steady arms wrapped around your waist, preventing you from falling face first. Bruce pulled you to him once again, and this time he swore he could see all the specks in your pretty eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn’t look away. Bruce’s eyes fell to your lips for a brief second, and you followed his gaze, wishing he would close the distance between you too.

But Bruce Wayne might be a lot of things and do a lot of things – but he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Not right now, when the wine was clearly getting to your head. He was going to do this properly.

He pushed away from you and gave you a friendly pat on the arm. Upon seeing the way your face fell, he mentally kicked himself. Shit. It was the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it? He should’ve just kissed you. But you weren’t thinking straight. And he didn’t want to take advantage of that.

“Goodnight, [Y/N].” He said, offering you a smile.

“Why are you such a goddamned coward?” A tiny voice in your head asked repeatedly. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You had a great time, didn’t you? He said so himself. He called it a date. He wanted to go on another. Why were you always so scared of going for what you wanted? Why dint you just take the plunge and do what you wanted to for once in your life?

Shaking away your nerves, you stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Bruce.” You said, nodding in contempt and walking towards your building. By the grace of some god up above, you found your keys rather quickly and didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness that would’ve surely followed, so you just walked inside and closed the door behind you.

It was Alfred who had to break Bruce out of his trance.

“Perhaps you could take a picture of the building and take it with you, seeing as it is far too cold for you to stare at the real thing the entire night.” He said in a sarcastic manner, causing Bruce to stare at him and get in the car, but not without shooting one last look at the building.

He’d see you again for sure.

Things went smoothly after that.

You went out a few more times, and within about two months, he officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You accepted of course – after all, you were just as head over heels for him as he was for you.

You had to settle some boundaries for your office life to work out. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were shagging your boss for a promotion, or financial extras – not at all. So, you set some ground rules.

No PDA at work – this was rule number one, and it was the most important one. After you two started dating, Bruce found himself seeking you out more during the day, just to catch up or look at you (he was whipped). You’d noticed, and it was hard keeping yourself away from him. PDA was a big no-no. You two had to be professional and keep your personal relationship out of the office.

No pet names, no endearment terms, and minimal contact as it was. He’d once nearly gotten himself in trouble, having to switch from “My dear” to “Miss [L/N}”. It was tough and some employees looked at him funny, but he just walked away with his Wayne confidence, and no one said a word.

If you two did want to meet, it’d have to be after work hours, or during breaks, and in private. You would often bring him lunch, sit by his side in his office and just talk about your day and go over work stuff. He liked the privacy his office offered. He could have you in his lap, laugh about whatever silly reality show the Gotham gossip channels had on, and just enjoy some time off work.

No special treatment of any sort. This was very important. He couldn’t turn a blind eye to any problems you’d caused or any work you hadn’t done properly. Thankfully for him, you’d always been an excellent worker and he never had to reprimand you nor scold you. But he also couldn’t just praise you for every little thing you did – at least not at work.

It was hard, to say the least.

At home, you enjoyed being close to him, away from prying eyes, doubtful employers or clingy assistants who wanted his everlasting attention. And you could manage just fine at work as well – sure, you didn’t like seeing other workers drool all over him and beg for him to look their way, but you were also always far too busy to pay them any attention. After all, you had so much work to do.

But Bruce couldn’t say the same thing.

He’d go down a few floors to check on one particular project, or to supervise a series of workers, and find you busying yourself around with tasks, giving orders, keeping files in check, and turning in reports, and you’d look so great doing all of that. Efficient, hard-working. That’s what everyone had called you.

But then he’d see every other person had noticed the same. He could see the way other men looked at you, calling you over to ask questions and chit chat with you. They’d try to make you laugh, offering you charming smiles when they achieved so, and Bruce had to control every fibre in his being not to walk over to where you were and punch those smug grins off their faces.

Their games didn’t work on you though. You’d politely decline their advances, and declare you were taken, but some of them were too damn persistent. To those, you simply wished a good day and returned to your tasks. Something inside Bruce beamed with pride, and he would be lying if he said their upset faces did not bring him joy.

“C’mon [Y/N], it’s just one dinner. What wrong can that do, huh? I’ll take you to some place real nice,” a man in the same department as yours once pleaded, holding your hands in his. Bruce’s jaw twitched and you firmly moved away from him.

“Sorry Joe, I told you, I’m very busy. And even if I wasn’t, I have a very loving partner, and would never cheat on them.” Your voice was calm, but he could tell you weren’t comfortable with the way he touched you.

Joe scoffed.

“Some partner you have – you leave by yourself every single day. How come they never come pick up their missus, huh? If I had a girl like you, I’d come pick her up every day. What kind of douchebag leaves his girlfriend all alone? C’mon – one dinner with me and you’ll forgetting all about that idiot.” Joe moved towards you once again to grab your arm, but you moved away, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I told you; I wasn’t interested. And please do not touch me. Now, you should get back to work. Your monthly reports tell me you’ve been slacking, and I would hate to have to give you a warning.” You said firmly, raising your chin and gripping your clipboard tighter.

Joe scrambled for words, and you walked away. While brushing past Bruce, you could feel the smirk in his voice as he whispered “That’s my girl” for only you to hear.

But sometimes, he had to jump in and save you.

Well, perhaps save wasn’t the right word.

Because you didn’t need saving – he was just jealous.

You were taking a break from your weekly roundups, sitting at your desk, and chatting happily with your closest work friends. You leaned forward to whisper in a woman’s ear, and the both of you leaned back in laughter.

“Good morning, ladies,” a man in a nice-looking dark blue suit said, approaching the two of you. His blonde hair fell loosely over his eyes, and he did little to nothing to tame it.

“Raph! Hey – you’ll not believe what [Y/N] just told me,” your friend smiled, and “Raph” bent over to listen closely to what she whispered to him. He widened his eyes in surprise, before snorting in response.

“You’re kidding.” He turned to you.

You shook your head, biting the pencil you’d taken to your lips. Bruce had half a mind to walk over to you and claim your lips then and there.

“Nope. Saw it with my own eyes.”

The three of you laughed again, and Raph quickly looked around. He clearly did not notice his boss staring at them from across the room, so he pulled up a chair nearby and sat down.

You three engaged in lively conversation, and Bruce fumed at the sight of you leaning towards him every so often and giggling, bending over to whisper in his ear and touch his arm. Why were you so god damn close to him? Was there something going on between the two of you? Why the hell did he not keep his hands to himself?

Bruce’s patience snapped when he saw Raph take your hand in his and place a dramatic kiss on your knuckles. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, doing your best to pry your hand from his.

“Let go of me Raph, you’re absolutely disgusting.” Bruce noticed the way you smiled as you spoke each one of your next words, and something twisted in his stomach. A very ugly feeling that told him he did not like the way you seemed so close to Raph, nor the way he seemed to touch you so effortlessly. Why the hell was he touching you in the first place? Did he not know you were taken? He decided then and there this had to stop. This man needed to get his hands off you, right this moment.

“I’m serious – ugh – get off me, you’re sick! Get away!”

“I believe the lady has told you to let go of her hand.” Bruce’s voice echoed in the room, and nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to look at him. Your breath caught in your throat and Raph, who was sitting next to you, quickly stood up, brushing his suit.

“Sir – Mr. Wayne, I wasn’t – “

“Working? Clearly. Shouldn’t you be occupying yourself with your tasks at hand, other than harassing your coworkers?” The words left his mouth with venom, and he looked very angry – part of you had to stifle a laugh.

“Mr. Wayne, I promise I wasn’t harassing, I was – “

“Get back to your job before I do something about it.”

Raph shot you an apologetic look before scurrying away.

“Miss [L/N]?”

“Yes?”

“A word.”

You shrugged bashfully at your friend and followed Bruce. He led you away from your department, looking inside each passing room to find one that was empty. Once he found what he was looking for, he pushed you inside, locked the door behind you, and pressed himself against you, kissing you passionately.

A gasp left your lips before you returned his kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck and in his hair. He licked your lower lip as if asking for permission, and you granted it with a soft whimper which he swallowed, hands deftly pulling your hips closer and closer to him.

When you broke away for air, you noticed how flustered he was, and how his lips and chin were covered in lipstick.

“What was – what was that for?” you asked, panting.

“Couldn’t stand to see that bastard all over you,” Bruce muttered, before moving on to press kisses against the column of your neck. You sighed in pleasure and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Raph is just a friend.”

Bruce snorted.

“Yeah, and he’s clearly interested in you. Idiot. Doesn’t he know you’re mine?”

At these words, you pushed away from him and burst out laughing.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny?” Bruce asked you, raising an eyebrow.

“Bruce,” you managed to say in between laughs, “Honey, Raphael is gay!” You kept laughing, staring at his dumbfounded expression.

“What?”

“Honey, he’s gay! We were talking about how I found his work crush sending dick pics to some random guy on Grindr!”

Bruce stopped in his tracks; brows furrowed in confusion.

“Gay?”

“Yes! He’s not interested in me silly – we’re just friends.”

“Oh.”

You resumed laughing, before adjusting your clothes and trying to wipe some of the lipstick off his face.

“Bruce, were you jealous?” you asked, cocky grin playing in your lips.

“No – I wasn’t – “

“Oh gosh, you were!” You smiled warmly at him. It was flattering, and you felt slightly bad for him. He had been worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“They’re all after you. I know it.”

“They’re really not,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. “And even if they were, I only have eyes for you. You know that right?”

He nodded, kissing you again.

“Besides,” you pulled away for air, fiddling with his tie. “If anything, I should be the jealous one. Every woman in this building is in love with you. And your personal assistant has tried not once, not twice, but three times bending over your desk, so you’ll look at her chest.”

Bruce shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“I couldn’t care less. I only have eyes for you.”

“Well then, you have to learn to behave. This is still my workplace, and I still have to interact with all of these people. And unless you want everyone finding out about us, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal with your jealousy better.”

He sighed, dropping his head to rest it on your chest. You smiled and ran fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

“I only have eyes for you, you know.”

“And I only have eyes for you.” He replied, before straightening up and fixing his hair and clothes. He looked at you for confirmation and you nodded, wiping whatever lipstick he had on his face, and fixing his tie and shirt. “Perfect”, you mumbled.

Bruce gave you a quick kiss and you walked outside. He’d wait a few minutes before following.

He really needed to work on those jealousy issues.

And he did!

Sort of.

He tried not to think too much about it when coworkers of yours praised and complimented you. “Hey [L/N], heard the turnover rates stabilised thanks to you! Good job!”. “Nice outfit, [Y/N]. Makes your eyes stand out. Very nice.”. “Hey, you saw this week’s morale reports? They skyrocketed – you’re too good at your job, we should all just quit.” It made his blood boil.

He tried not to think too much when your colleagues brought you any sorts of gifts. Coffee, when you were feeling tired, cookies or some other snacks when you were hungry, some even offered to go get you full fledged meals like salads or other dishes from the cafeteria just so you could keep working. You were so kind to everyone – it was only natural the ones around you reciprocated. And Bruce loved it – he loved that people recognised how generous you were, how downright good you were, and wanted to repay in kind. But it still made him somewhat envious.

So, he decided to take action.

One particular morning, he found you in your floor, working tirelessly. It had been a very stressful week, and you’d been far too busy to even visit him at the Manor or have dinner with him. He missed you. Missed your smiles, your laughter, your voice, your touch. Alfred was positive he was behaving like a child whose favourite blanket had been taken from him. It was endearing, yet also somewhat pathetic.

He approached you from behind, ignoring the surprised and stunned gazes everyone around you gave him. He embraced you from behind, dropping his head to your neck, and kissing you there.

You gasped in surprise, face covered in an expression of astonishment. What was going on? Was that Bruce? What was he doing here? And why was he kissing your neck? You were in the middle of organising a few very important reports and did not have time for distractions of any sort.

“Bruce – what are you doing?” you whispered, voice laced in shock.

“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said, intentionally loud for everyone to hear. “You should take a break.”

“Bruce, we’re working – we can’t – why are you – “ you had no words. No PDA, no nicknames, no special treatment. Why was Bruce breaking these rules all of a sudden?

“I missed you, of course. You’ve been exhausting yourself. Look at what I brought you,” he placed a cup of coffee on top of your desk, and you gasped. It wasn’t just any coffee; it was a very special brand that you only got one or two times due to how expensive it was. “You need sustenance.”

“Wow, Bruce, I mean, thank you so much, but you didn’t have to – “

“Of course I had to. Can’t have my beautiful girlfriend burning out, now, can I?” He lifted himself up and faced you clearly. He then proceeded to dip down and capture your lips with his, hand cupping your cheek and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. He parted from you slightly, and whispered against your lips, “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t stand being away from you. Screw everyone else. If they have a problem, they can come and talk to me. I’m the boss, after all, aren’t I?”

You looked at him through your lashes and offered him a soft smile. You couldn’t lie; you too missed Bruce, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend you didn’t know him at all. You gave him a soft tug on his tie and pressed another kiss to his lips. He could feel your smile against him, and it only made him smile in return.

Bruce then stood up, straightened his suit, and caressed your cheek.

“I bought lunch. Meet me in my office in two hours?”

“Yeah. I’d like that very much.”

He stole another kiss from you, causing you to chuckle, and walked away, as if he hadn’t just shocked the entire HR department to hell and back with his actions.

It didn’t matter.

They all knew you were his now.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys enjoyed it! I love this man so much okay. And wish me luck, going to rewatch TDKR with the family. Yesterday we watched TDK and I don't think my family understood the sheer magnitude of that movie... 😔

Oh well! It'll be fun!

Once again, thank you very much! And please keep your eyes wide open, I have a surprise coming up for everyone!

Have an amazing day ahead!

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478 notes · View notes

malum-forev · 11 months

Note

If you still have Receiving/ giving a gift available, could you please write about Avenger Bucky receiving a gift from reader, for Christmas or his birthday? But he totally doesn’t expect it and gets all emotional cause he hasn’t received a gift in decades and doesn’t know what to do with the whole thing.

Yes yes yeeesss this is such a great ideaaa <3

“This is stupid.” Bucky grumbled.

“What’s stupid is that you waited until December 24th to buy your Secret Santa a gift!” Sam said, dodging the thousands of people roaming the streets of New York.

“I didn’t think the gift exchange would actually amount to anything.” Bucky groaned. “I thought we would be sent away on a mission!”

“I don’t care what your excuse for procrastination is! I just want you to buy your Secret Santa something.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what-“

Sam covered his ears. “La, la, la, la. I’m not listening, don’t want any spoilers.”

“I want to be put back in the cryostasis chamber.” Bucky sighed dramatically.

Bucky stretched the neck of the uncomfortable wool sweater someone on the team had forced them to wear. The itchy fabric made his skin red. Whoever started the ugly sweater tradition should be sentenced to life in jail. Bucky thought.

“Will you stop acting like a toddler, we’re supposed to be the adults here.” Sam spoke from the edge of his mouth to not attract any more attention.

“I’m not acting like a child, I’m acting like a senile old man. This is the appropriate way for me to act seeing as I’m over a hundred years old.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, immediately regretting the action as he pressed the disgusting fabric against his chest.

“Okay! Bucky’s turn!” Sam yelled, not wanting to bare another second of his friend’s complaining, pushing Bucky to the middle of the circle. All of the agents’ eyes were on him.

Bucky never really celebrated Christmas, back in the 40’s it was common for families to celebrate it but ever since he got out of the ice he- well let’s just say The Winter Soldier didn’t really have time for holiday shopping.

“I got-“ Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Ryan as my Secret Santa so, here’s a knife.”

The room got eerily silent as they all watched Bucky take out an unpackaged knife from one of his pockets.

Sam facepalmed himself.

“Thanks Sarge.” Ryan awkwardly smiled.

“I sharpened that myself.” Bucky said proudly.

“Let’s move on!” Sam said, this was more painful than he’d ever imagined. “Who got the cyborg as Secret Santa?”

Again, silence met everyone. The agents looked at each other but no one stepped up.

“It’s fine,” Bucky forced a small smile. “I withdrew my name from the bowl. I didn’t need anything.”

Scattered chatter was whispered before they continued with the gifts.

Bucky looked down at his watch an hour later, how much longer would he have to put up with this?

The double doors opened loudly and in you came. You quickly said your hello’s to a couple of your friends and walked straight towards Bucky. With a big smile on your face and a small bag in your hand.

Bucky gulped as you approached him.

“Merry Christmas Sarge.” You beamed, his brain was trying to process your words. Bucky felt like he’d never heard someone call him that, and no one should ever try to top it because it would never compare to how the word Sarge sounded coming out of your lips.

“Me-Merry Christmas.” Bucky stuttered.

“I’m your Secret Santa.” His eyes widened but it seemed like his reaction only made you happier. “I saw you pulling your name out when everyone left so, I decided to pick it up for myself. I hope you like your gift.”

You were truly the human form of sunshine. He thought.

“C’mon, open it. I need to know if you liked it.” You pushed the bag closer to him.

Bucky took it by the handles and peeked inside. It was a book.

He saw how you nervously fidgeted.

“When I got recruited, I researched about you- well both of you, Sam and yourself. God this is embarrassing.” You fumbled with your words. “Anyways, I read that your favorite book was The Hobbit so, I tracked down a first edition copy since well, it’s been edited since it came out and I thought it would be nice for you to have something from back when you first were alive- not alive because well- Oh god, it was stupid right? Giving you a book? You probably don’t even have time to read-“

Bucky cut you off by wrapping his strong arms against your frame.

“This is the most amazing gift I’ve ever received.” He mumbled against your hair. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.” You squeaked.

“This is incredible.” Bucky whispered, not knowing if he could get any other words out without his voice cracking. No one had ever done something as special as this for him.

“You made Barnes smile!” Sam laughed, patting Bucky on the back. “You should get a medal for things like that.”

This one's short and sweet! Hope you like it!

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <;33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

*Any gifs posted are not my own and I give the artist full credit.

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tulipsforvin · 6 months

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Hello,can I request headcanon about how moriarty brothers will act as bf or s/o pls?

How would The Moriarty Brothers Act As a Significant Other/Bf?

Characters: Albert James Moriarty, William James Moriarty, Louis James Moriarty.

Format: Headcannons.

Albert J. Moriarty

Affluent, rich and successful in almost all aspects to live a luxuriously comfortable life. What else could one ask for?

His gaze follow you anytime you look at something that catches your eye. Perhaps you didn't tell him you wanted it because you felt shy or nervous? He'd keep it a secret - his awareness of you finding something you like.

The next day you'd find it on your bedside table when you wake up, all nicely wrapped.

I reckon he leaves love notes as well ranging from short 'Good morning'(s) to professing his love for you.

Very playful with you. Always, always joking around with you. He loves listening to the sound of your laughter.

Protective. I think he's a fairly jealous man. Definitely not the pouting, sulking type but more like the 'show-them-you're-his' kind of type.

What a gentleman. And I mean, WHAT A GENTLEMAN. Back of the hand kisses, kissing your face, tying your shoelace, opening the door for you..I could go on and on.

He loves to use his money on you.

He knows what he's doing. Although he probably hasn't been in a relationship before, his experience with noble ladies absolutely fangirling over him has probably made him an expert in that field already.

If something gets overwhelming for you, for example a function, he'll shift the spotlight away from you to him so you can have a break. Just like how he does the same thing with William and Louis. Only further proves his protective tendencies.

William J. Moriarty

To be able to get into a relationship with him in the first place implies that you would need to have to break down through several walls that he built to shield himself and go through several obstacles (probably orchestrated by himself☠️).

But once you do, there's a certain comfortness he'll find in your presence. He'll be very vulnerable and turn emotional with you. Shocker. He's also really attentive.

Gets you out of predicaments with ease and can put up with your stubbornness.

He's very sweet and knows how to take care of you. Like, stroking a thumb over your lips if there's milk or something else that you didn't know was there when you just finished eating/drinking something.

Subtle, cute acts that make you swoon.

I'm so, so vey sure he writes love letters.

He's posessive, I'm sure. Contrary to the gentle exterior he has and even though he's quite soft with you, he's posessive. Proof is him going on and on about how Moran was his like a weirdo. Who says he can't do the same with you?

Not very experienced in the field of romance, but he would love to try out new things for you. There's also his intellect. This man probably does research on everything and anything relationship related to please you.

Your personal encyclopedia on all subjects. Don't know about a particular topic? There's nothing to worry about. William, of all people is your boyfriend after all.

Neck kisses. There's something he loves bout intimacy. Like, not just cheek kisses, though they are fine too but I think he loves to explore crevices of your body no one has explored before. Once again, makes him feel like you're his and only his.

Louis J. Moriarty

He likes to bake and cook for you. Anything you want to eat or drink at like, 3 in the morning? He'll trudge out of bed and go make it for you.

He's the more snuggly type. He likes to get warm and cozy with you, especially if it's cold outside.

He's protective like Albert but unlike Albert's more discreet way of acting protective, he's more direct. More agressive with his ways. Just as he is with Sherlock whenever he gets close to William.

NOT EXPERIENCED AT ALL !! He's very clumsy. He probably hasn't even interacted much with ladies before but he tries so, so very hard for you. That's so endearing.

Lots and lots of forehead and nose kisses for sure.

He's not one to talk unless it requires for him to speak so he's pretty satisfied just hearing your voice and nodding his head. A wonderful combination if you like to go on and on about all kinds of random topics.

The type to get easily jealous. He, most likely, has not had alot of meaningful relationships in his life except the Moriarty group, so when he's in a relationship - he's very territorial and gets jealous even though he seems like a sweetheart. Which he is, ofcourse - but just for a selected few.

He gets bashful in the early stages of his relationship or if the two of you are trying out something new. He also likes to bury his face in your chest and neck.

A sucker for intimacy like his older brother.

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nanamiya3 · 8 months

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Hello! As an SA survivor, I really appreciated your story with Naoya. My comfort character is Nanami and I was wondering if you could write something similar? Where reader has an anxiety attack bc of her trauma and finally tells nanami about it? She’s worried that he won’t accept her and nanami reminds her he’ll never do that. It’s a heavy topic so I completely understand if you want to pass on this! I appreciate your writing regardless so thank you for taking the time to write & post these stories :)

hii! i'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond (can you believe my last post was almost half a year ago :0) but thank you for the ask! i made this absurdly long because i love backstories but i hope you like it :)

nanami x fem reader (she/her pronouns used) - fluff & comfort - pet names (darling, sweetheart, baby) - wc. 7.7k

please note that there are mentions of SA (nothing explicit/graphic) after the little "exhibit" sections are over. if you aren't comfortable with mentions of past SA (ex: nanami asking if someone has "hurt" reader) please don't read past the little "exhibit" scenarios or don't read/expand the post at all :) again, it's pure fluff in the "exhibit a, b, c" parts, after that SA is discussed/alluded to

Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.

Exhibit A: The time you were an hour late to your first date.

—

“Come on, just trust me on this one!” Shoko exclaims as she pelts you with blueberries—your blueberries.

“Hey!” You glare at your best friend, snatching the bowl of fruit away before any more berries end up on the floor. “Do you know how much blueberries cost these days? They’re not in season right now and—”

“Blah blah,” Shoko sticks her tongue out at you. “I’m not saying you have to marry him.. It’s just one date!” She pauses, tone becoming uncharacteristically serious. “I’ve been friends with him since high school… He’s a really nice guy, very respectful.”

“Oh?” You quirk an eyebrow at your roommate, laughter bubbling over your lips. “Very respectful,” you’re giggling now, “I’m sure he’s veryy respectful.”

Shoko groans, hands scrubbing at her face. “You’re unbelievable—I need a cigarette,” she mutters.

“You’re unbelievable! You’re a med student who smokes!” you cry out, flinging an accusatory finger at her.

Shoko just snorts, waving a dismissive hand in your direction as she pats at her pockets for her lighter. “I’m serious though, I think he would be good for you.”

“Sure, he’s exactly what I need,” you reply dryly. “What was his name again? Nanami something—”

“Kento,” Shoko chimes in.

“—Nanami Kento,” you finish, twirling a blueberry between your thumb and index finger. “I’m sure he’s a great person. But you know there’s a reason why I’m never home when your guy friends are over…” You trail off, shrugging as if you’re unbothered, but Shoko sees the way your brows furrow and lips tremble. “Plus, I’m too busy with my dissertation and research to try to have a life,” you huff, easing the tension with some lighthearted humor, popping the berry into your mouth.

Shoko rolls her eyes at you good-naturedly, waggling her brows as she tries to lift your spirits. “What if I showed you a picture of him?”

Two photos, a not-so-slick mention of Nanami’s height by Shoko, and a sworn testament to his upstanding character later, you fold.

You, 6:47 PM

hey! i’m running late right now, there was an emergency at the lab. can we push the date from 7 to 8? i’m really sorry :(

Nanami Kento, 6:50 PM

Yes, of course. I hope everything is okay, take as long as you need.

You, 6:51 PM

thank you so much! again, i’m really sorry. i should be there by 8 :)

Nanami reads your text, slipping his phone into his pocket as he sighs. He had already arrived at the restaurant by the time he saw your first message—it’s too late to leave and come back now. He takes a seat in the waiting area, glancing at the bouquet in his lap. Shoko had threatened to break both his legs if he so much as breathed at you wrong tonight—he hopes you won’t find the flowers too much for a first date.

Nanami thinks back to what he knows about you. He remembers the first time he was at Shoko’s place: you were nowhere in sight (much to the dismay of Gojo, who kept asking Shoko to play matchmaker for him), but Shoko just explained that you were studying late at the library. Every time after that, it was another excuse: Shoko’s roommate can’t come because she’s busy in the lab, busy at the library, busy writing her dissertation, busy running simulations, busy reading papers, busy being a TA, busy meeting with her advisor. He’s only seen you once while at your apartment, and that was because he accidentally walked into your room thinking it was the bathroom: You’d been hunched over your desk, back to the door, and Nanami had immediately walked right back out into the hallway upon his realization that bathrooms didn’t usually contain beds and desks, shutting the door as quickly as possible so as to not disturb you. You hadn’t even turned around by the time he was gone.

That was the first and last time Nanami Kento ever saw you. At least until last week, when he received a text from Shoko detailing your contact info and a winky face, phone lighting up with a call from your roommate moments later.

“Hello?”

“Kentoooo!!! Guess what??” Shoko’s voice is all high pitched and giggly, barely containing her excitement.

Nanami thinks he knows exactly what she’s up to. “What is it?” he ventures.

“My roommate just agreed to go on a date! With you!!” Shoko’s glee is apparent, even through the tinny speaker on Nanami’s phone. “I just sent—”

“I never asked her out,” Nanami cuts in. He’s frowning slightly: not entirely opposed to the idea, just hoping Shoko hasn’t gone and planned your marriage without his knowledge.

Shoko’s sigh echoes loudly over the line, and Nanami winces at the earful he’s sure to be in for. “I know,” she’s rolling her eyes now. “That’s why—if you would just let me finish my sentence—I sent you her number so you could ask her yourself.”

Nanami’s quiet for a moment, thinking it over before he asks, “Why are you doing this?”

Shoko doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you’re both losers with no lives,” she laughs a little at her own joke, then slowly considers her next words. “And… I think you would treat her well—I know you would be good to her, and she deserves that.”

Nanami can tell how much Shoko cares about you, from the way she spoke about you to the way she threatened to buy 51% of his start up’s shares and tank the company if he ever hurt you. Yeah, he really hopes you don’t think he’s coming on too strong with the flowers.

So, Nanami sits in the restaurant patiently, checking his phone ever so often to make sure he hasn’t missed any messages from you, smiling and telling the hostess he’d like to wait a while longer to be seated. And when you do show up—17 minutes earlier than expected—he’s all smiles and reassurances. You’re feeling (and looking) frazzled, apologies spilling out from your mouth like a dam let loose as you follow him and the hostess to your table. But Nanami’s the quintessential gentleman: waving away your guilt and apologetic expression, pulling your chair out for you, handing you the beautiful arrangement of flowers, pouring you a glass of water to help calm you down, insisting you call him Kento.

And though most people wince and attempt to change the topic when you talk research, Kento’s patient as he listens to your ramblings on the roadblocks you face, the students you have to teach, the lack of common sense in the lab. He makes a point to ask questions about your research, finding it interesting because you find it interesting, loving the way your face lights up when you get to describe the implications of your findings.

You hate to admit it, already hearing Shoko’s “I told you so!” in your head as you think to yourself, but Nanami Kento might just be exactly what you need.

—

Exhibit B: The time you spent 4 consecutive days with your head in a toilet bowl.

—

Shoko Ieri, 1:58 PM

dude, what the hell are you doing right now???

Nanami Kento, 2:01 PM

What do you mean? I’m working.

Shoko Ieri, 2:01 PM

what could possibly be so important with your company that you’d be working right now??

Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM

It’s 2 PM on a Monday… Am I not supposed to be working right now?

Shoko Ieri, 2:02 PM

you’re so fucking dense you would sink in the dead sea. your girlfriend has been throwing up all day and you’re WORKING?

Nanami Kento, 2:02 PM

Throwing up? What do you mean??

**Incoming call from Nanami Kento**

“Hey assho—”

“What do you mean she’s been throwing up all day?” Kento’s voice is tinged with urgency and worry. “Is she okay? Are you there with her? Can you check her temperature? I’ll be there in—”

“Dude,” Shoko cuts in, “Don’t act like you didn’t know. There’s no way you didn’t know—I mean she’s been hurling like crazy since this morning, and you’re an asshole for not checking up on her.”

Kento’s shocked, and still extremely worried, trying to just get Shoko to focus so he can make sure you’re okay. “I really didn’t know, Ieri, she hasn’t texted me at all today.” His voice is strained, concern evident in his tone. “Please tell me you’re at home with her—is she okay?”

“Well…” Shoko considers how to best put your condition so as to not cause Kento a heart attack, a little confused on why you didn’t tell him anything. “She’s been throwing up pretty steadily throughout the day and she’s got a pretty bad fever.”

“How bad are we talking? I’m driving over right now.”

“104 degrees… 104.6 last I checked,” Shoko winces as she says it, knowing how bad it sounds.

“Oh my god.” The absolute terror in Kento’s voice makes Shoko wince even harder. “Ieri, we need to get her to a hospital—this is serious.”

Shoko shakes her head, reporting dejectedly, “She won’t go. I tried a couple hours ago but she said she doesn’t get paid enough by the school to afford an emergency visit.”

Kento’s at a loss for words.

“She said she’ll be fine since I’m ‘basically a doctor,’” Shoko finishes bitterly.

“T-that’s not… You’re not… Y-you’re just a med student—that’s not the same thing—” Kento thinks he might have a heart attack.

“I know, I know,” Shoko sighs. “But, I don’t think it’s anything too bad. She isn’t throwing up blood, her breath and heart rate are both pretty stable, and she was conscious enough to talk back to me when I tried to get her to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Kento says as he takes deep breaths, trying to not think about you dying or suffering or—“Okay. Okay. Okay. I’ll be there soon, then. We can talk later.”

“Alright. Drive safe—I don’t need another patient to look after,” Shoko jokes before hanging up.

5 minutes later, a stressed Nanami Kento is on your doorstep, rushing in as soon as Shoko answers the door, barely listening to what she’s saying as he moves towards your room. And then he’s inside, kneeling before your bed as his eyes dart over your figure, murmuring a gentle, “Hi baby, how are you feeling?”

You blink your eyes open, trying to pull yourself out of that feverish fog blanketing your mind as you slowly register who’s in your line of sight. No… It can’t be. How did he find out? He’s not supposed to be here—you didn’t tell him for a reason.

“Ken?…” You rub at your eyes, sitting up with a whimper as a wave of nausea hits you square in the stomach. “W-why are you here?”

“Because somebody told me you have a 104 fever, and it wasn’t you,” Kento tuts, tone disapproving but eyes gentle.

“Ieri…” you mumble, shaking your head slightly.

“Ieri,” he confirms, shaking his own head—this time at you. “We’ll talk more about that later… Right now, I need to make sure my darling is feeling okay.”

Your mind is still foggy, but your lips quirk up into a small smile as you tease in a small voice, “Your darling is feeling superb.” You give him a weak thumbs up and cheesy grin. “I feel great.”

“Really? Because there’s a bit of vomit on your chin right now,” Kento deadpans, secretly relieved you’re feeling well enough to joke.

And then you cry out in mock outrage, regretting it almost immediately as you clutch at your middle, the outburst costing you a fit of spasms and pain in your stomach. Kento’s mood sobers instantly as he gently rubs at your back, asks if there’s anything he can do for you, adjusting the pillows behind you to help ease you into a more comfortable position.

“You should go,” you whisper as you reach up to grip his hand.

“Now why would I do that?” Kento asks, smiling softly as he feels your hold on his hand tighten.

You turn your face into the pillows, mumbling out a muffled, “I’m sick… and gross. I can’t let you see me like this.” You groan, turning your head back to look at your boyfriend as you caution, “And you’re going to get sick.”

Kento just smiles as he cups your hand between his own. “You never look gross, and I won’t get sick because I don’t overwork myself.”

You huff out a tired sigh, weakly swatting at the hands wrapped around your own as you slur, “It’s rude to torment the sick and dying,” and turn on your side to face the wall—away from your amused caretaker.

For the next three days, Kento—with the help of Shoko, (not quite) M.D.—looks after you as you miraculously manage to regurgitate every bit of sustenance you consume. He’s cleaned that metal “throw-up” bowl on your nightstand—meant to be used in case you couldn’t get to the bathroom in time—more times that he can count. He’s changed your sheets, helped you to the bathroom, and dutifully cooked light soups and stews, spooning them into your mouth before inevitably patting your back reassuringly as you throw it up into the toilet. Most of all, he’s poked and prodded you with that goddamn thermometer: if you had the strength to, you’d steal it right out of his hands and tell him to quit being a mother hen.

But Kento just can’t help his worrying. To take care of you, he’s been staying the night over, sleeping on that couch in the living room he’s definitely too large for. Even Shoko feels a little bad for him, watching him dutifully set alarms for every other hour so he can check up on you throughout the night. The two of them work in tandem to make sure you’re okay, combining the power of Shoko’s education with Kento’s sheer stress to maximize your care.

And when you finally come to—when the haze clouding your thoughts finally clears—he’s just as patient and gentle as he has been over the past few days.

“You’ve gotta stop overworking yourself, sweetheart,” Kento murmurs into the top of your head.

“I can rest when I’m dead,” you protest, twisting from your position on his chest to make a show out of the dramatic wink you send his way.

Kento groans. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he says with a sigh, helping you curl back up on top of him.

You giggle, breath fanning out against his collarbone, amused by Kento’s exasperation. “Thanks for taking care of me though, Ken. You’re the best,” you whisper softly, turning to pressing a kiss against his neck.

“Of course, darling,” he replies quietly, voice full of love. Then, louder, feigning nonchalance, Kento announces, “But if you don’t start taking better care of yourself, you’ll be on your own, and I’ll just watch from a distance and say ‘I told you so’ when you get sick.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me!” you pout, frowning at the thought of him purposely ignoring you.

Kento sighs, pretending to be upset, “You’re right. I wouldn’t do that.” He reports dejectedly, “I just love you too much,” practically able to feel your smile at his words against his skin. “But—” he leans down and tilts your head up to look at him, thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place to maintain steady eye contact. “—the next time you’re sick or in need of help, you’ll tell me directly.” His voice is serious, as firm as his grip on your chin and it makes you nervous, like you’re in trouble, eyes darting around to avoid his gaze. “No trying to hide it, no making me worry. I shouldn’t have found out about your fever from Ieri—you should have told me yourself. I don’t want you hiding things from me, especially if it’s about your health and well-being. Got it?”

You’ve tensed up against Kento, heart hammering in your throat as you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. His free hand moves to soothe your back—trying to show that he’s not angry with you—as he drops his hand from your chin, eyes tracking the way you hang your head to avoid looking at him.

And then, after a bout of anxiousness, you nod, stealing a glance up at Kento to gauge his mood as you start, “I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t mean to worry you.” You take a deep breath before you continue, “I just didn’t want to bother you. I knew you’d drop everything if you heard I was sick and it wouldn’t have been fair for me to take advantage of you like that.” You pick at a piece of lint on his shirt, avoiding catching his eye and aiming for humor as you add, “And nobody wants to watch their partner throw up, it’s gross. I couldn’t let you fall out of love with me like that.”

Kento cracks a smile. “Darling, if you think throwing up in front of me is going to make me stop loving you, I need to do a much better job of showing you how much you mean to me.”

You huff out a laugh at that, but he’s not done, cupping your hands with his own as he looks down at you. “And you’re never a bother, baby, ever. I’m never going to be upset with you for letting me know you’re not feeling well—and you won’t be ‘taking advantage’ of me by letting me know. It’s my own choice to take care of you and it makes me happy to do it.”

You’re looking down at where Kento’s hands are wrapped around your own, but you nod, letting his words sink in as you duck your head back down into the crook of his neck. “Thanks, Ken,” you whisper, trying to hide how relieved and emotional him saying that makes you feel. “That means… a lot to me. I’ll promise I won’t hide things from you anymore.”

Your boyfriend smiles, replying with a soft “good girl” as he runs his thumb along the back of your hand. He’s glad you’re opening up, and as you doze off on him, exhausted from your past couple of days and lulled to sleep by the comfortable silence and gentle caresses, he feels a surge of affection settle over his heart.

—

Exhibit C: The time you he won a stuffed lion at the fair.

—

Today is a special day. There are no papers to grade, no students to teach, no presentations or talks to prepare, and your research has reached a point where you can confidently take a few days off to rest. Naturally, you decide to optimize this golden opportunity by doing only the essentials: Scheduling a long overdue doctor’s appointment, deep cleaning your apartment, spending as much time with Kento as possible, going to the fair…. Just the essentials!

So—essentially—you’re at the fair with Kento, ignoring your ever growing list of responsibilities in favor of overpriced food and rigged carnival games. Kento’s already sporting a large tote on one shoulder, ready to collect all the prizes you’re eager to win.

Three hours, six stuffed animals, a pizza, two churros, a basket of fries, five rides, and a petting zoo later, you find yourself surveying the prizes on display in front of the cursed ring toss.

“Awww, Ken look at that one!” You’re pointing to a stuffed lion sitting amongst the prizes. “It kinda looks like you, don’t you think?”

The face Kento’s making right now can only be described as… distaste. “No… Love, I don’t see the resemblance.”

“No, no, no, look at the color! It looks just like your hair,” you exclaim, gasping and pointing once more as you realize, “Hey! It even has a little frown on its face! Do you see it Ken?”

“I don’t frown that often,” Kento says with a frown. “I’m quite happy when I’m with you.”

You burst into a fit of laughter, wishing he could have watched himself say that. “Sure, Ken,” you drawl, patting him on the shoulder as you get in line for the game, set on winning his lion-lookalike.

However, after 4 tries and an absurd amount of money, you decide to call for backup.

"Kennn," you singsong as you turn to look at him with big, pleading eyes. "Can you help me win this game?"

Kento's heart sinks, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, he'd do anything to make you happy. On the other hand, if he helps you win the lion, he'll spend the rest of his days hearing "Awww.. Isn't he just so cute?? He looks just like you, baby!" about a stuffed, over-evolved house cat.

But, in the end, the little angel on his shoulder (with a voice that sounds suspiciously similar to yours) wins. As Kento steps up for his try, he half considers putting no effort in and losing the game just so you won’t be able to correlate his good looks to a stuffed animal. Then, he (or maybe the little angel up there) decides he can’t do that to you—it would just be too cruel.

So, Kento gets ready for his turn: rolling his sleeves up, passing you the bag on his shoulder, and sighing without meaning to.

His first try is a failure. Each of the 5 rings supplied magically bounced off the bottlenecks, frustrating him to no end. “This game is rigged, sweetheart. We should find something else to play,” Kento grumbles, turning away from the booth with an irritated expression.

You shake your head, insisting, “But this is the only game we’ve seen that has that stuffed lion!” Then, you bring out the big guns, clasping your hands together and widening your eyes, begging, “Please, Ken..”

Aaaand…. He’s a goner, always so soft and willing when it comes to you.

Reinvigorated by your pleading and determined to make you happy, your boyfriend sets out on a mission to win you that stuffed lion.

After his first try, Kento sighs so hard you think you might physically feel the wind from it tickling at your forehead.

After his second try, Kento turns to you and drops a sweet little kiss on your nose to remind himself why he’s subjecting himself to this frustrating torture.

After his third try, Kento runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his sleeves with more force than necessary as he squints menacingly at the table of glass bottles.

After his fourth try, you tug at his wrist, telling him, “You don’t have to keep trying, Ken. It’s okay.” You feel guilty watching him get more and more frustrated, but he smiles, patting the back of your hand as he tells you it’s okay.

After his fifth try, Kento looks up at the stuffed lion as he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to stay focused on winning the prize and not how annoying this blatantly rigged game is.

After his sixth try, you’re seriously impressed by Kento’s ability to remain calm. You practically had steam coming out of your ears with each of your missed throws, but he’s taking this like a champ—maybe you’ll read some of his self help books to learn his ways.

After his seventh try, Kento curses under his breath, beginning to lose his cool.

After his eighth try, Kento thinks it might be time to start believing in a deity: Maybe he would have won on his first or second try with divine intervention on his side.

And then! After returning to purchase almost ten consecutive attempts and officially creeping out the worker managing the booth, Kento’s fourth ring finally finds its place around the neck of a bottle!!

You jump up and down and clap in celebration, elated by Kento’s victory. He immediately turns toward you, excitement written across his features as he wraps you up in a hug. You’re giggling and pressing kisses onto his cheek, murmuring thank you’s against his skin as you both grin ear to ear—both entirely too old to be so elated over a win at the carnival.

And even as you tease him, holding the stuffed toy up next to his face in comparison, he thinks his patience may have just paid off.

—

Nanami Kento is an exceedingly patient man.

That’s why, as you break down in front of him, he’s patient.

Just minutes ago, you’d been okay—you’d been more than okay. Seated on Kento’s lap, breath heavy as he scattered kisses across your face—moving from cheek to nose to lips to forehead—you’d been beyond okay.

Nothing had been too out of the ordinary: though Kento wasn’t a voracious and demanding lover, the two of you had shared more than a fair amount of kisses and “makeout sessions.” And you enjoyed these kisses, these “sessions,” but you also enjoyed keeping it at that, never progressing further than a few wandering touches and a lost shirt or two. Kento, always happy to follow your lead, to respect your boundaries, would never press further when you’d break away and ask to go to bed, to watch the movie, to cook dinner together.

Tonight, you planned on spending the night together at Kento’s apartment. Falling asleep and waking up next to Kento might be one of your favorite things in the world: his hair is always perfectly mussed, voice deep and raspy, and touch gentle and loving. You always wake up happy and warm all over when you feel his arm around your middle, breath hot on your ear as he murmurs a low “Good morning, darling.”

So, you show up at Kento’s place at around 6, a bag of groceries on your arm, just like usual. The two of you work together in the kitchen, each spoon feeding the other small taste-tests, just like usual. Dinner is a quiet, romantic affair, intimate and sweet, just like usual. After the wining and dining, you two curl up in bed and watch an episode of that show you’re slowly making your way through together, just like usual.

And when you end up straddling him, TV already shut off, fingers gently twisting in his soft, golden hair, Kento thinks he can get used to this being added to your usual. His hands are splayed out across your back, keeping you close to his chest as he smiles into your swollen, kiss-bitten lips. And when he starts dropping sweet little kisses—like a saint delivering small blessings—all over your face, who are you to hold back that little whimper in the back of your throat? Who is Kento to deny the surge of desire flaring low in his stomach at your reactions? His hands slip underneath your shirt, playing with the band of your bra as you squirm against him and tilt your head up to kiss him again. He moves further—further than he’s ever gone with you—and runs a finger along the underside of the waistband of your pants, brushing a knuckle against the soft skin of your pelvis.

That’s when everything changes.

The second you feel Kento touch you lower than your stomach you freeze up, jerking away from the soft kiss you’d been caught up in. Your eyes go wide and you scramble off of his lap, breath frantic as you try to calm the spike of panic blurring your senses. You’re trying to keep an eye on Kento—on his movements and expressions and demeanor—but it’s hard with how suddenly you’ve become overwhelmed and it makes you feel scared, the way you don’t know what exactly he’s going to do next.

It was just one touch, it’s okay. He doesn’t know, he didn’t mean it, he wasn’t trying to... It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—

“Sweetheart? Are you okay? I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay,” Kento tries to soothe you, but you look at him like you’re… scared of him and he hates himself for frightening you so bad.

What happened?

He thinks he might have an idea of what may have set you off, and as your breathing becomes more and more erratic, he begins to worry.

“Baby,” Kento starts, tone gentle. “Has someone ever… hurt you like this? By touching you?”

The way you flinch at his words is enough to confirm his suspicions, but Kento stays quiet, waiting for you to respond.

You don’t want to tell him. Your eyes keep darting around, nervous gaze cast down onto the blanket as you think about how you should lie—

But, wait. You promised Kento that you wouldn’t hide things from him, that you’d tell him things about your health and well-being. You really shouldn’t lie to him, not about this, but you really don’t want to tell him.

You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to say that it was your fault, that maybe you deserved it. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to start treating you like you’re dirty or shameful, like an embarrassing secret. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to get angry at you for not telling him sooner, because maybe he wouldn’t have loved you all this time—wasted all this time—if he knew. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want him to tell you that it isn’t a big deal, that you don’t have a right to be so upset over something like this, that you’re overreacting. You don’t want to tell him because you don’t want to ruin this peaceful little thing between you and him with your own issues and nightmares. You don’t want to tell him because—

Crap. You’ve been stuck in your own head for too long. The air feels thick with an awkwardly long silence as you scramble to mash together an appropriate response, but Kento’s patient and he waits without judgement, kind eyes filled with worry.

And you really don’t want to tell him, eyes welling up with tears because you’re stressed and anxious and not sure about what you’re supposed to do.

Finally, you decide to just lie, choking out a pained, “No—” as hot tears spill over your cheeks. You feel horrible and guilty for lying, knowing that Kento has never been anything but upfront and honest with you, but you’ve never been as good and brave as him so you let the lie spread its wings and shield you.

Your breath is coming out in short, stuttered pants as you try to fight the wave of anxiety attempting to drown you, hands coming up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle your choked sobs.

You feel horrible.

You feel horrible for lying.

You feel horrible because you ruined the moment of fun you were having with Kento.

You feel horrible for this breakdown, even if you know you can’t help it, because Kento doesn’t deserve to have to deal with this baggage he didn’t ask for.

You feel horrible because being with Kento has helped you come so far out of your shell, but now it feels like it’s all been ruined, like no matter how much progress you make, you’ll never be able to fully heal, fully escape.

You feel horrible because you can’t get those memories out of your head.

You feel horrible because you keep thinking about the last time someone touched you where Kento did.

You feel horrible for ever correlating Kento and his goodness to that person, even if it’s just in your head, even if you can’t help it, even if it’s involuntary because you’re scared.

You just feel horrible. You feel horrible about everything. And when Kento reaches for you, moving to try and gently tug at your wrist, worried about your frantic breathing and the way you seem to be trying to stop your breathing altogether with your shaking hands, you feel even worse.

When you see Kento’s hand move toward your face, you flinch so hard you choke, gasping behind your palm as you squeeze your eyes shut, shoulders tightening up with fear. You’re so on edge right now and your vision is too blurry with tears to properly gauge if he’s angry at you or not, so you just figure he is. You figure he’s seen through your lie and he’s upset with you, upset for a multitude of reasons that just overwhelm you further. You figure that if your tears dried you’d look up and find an angry Kento looming above you, brows pulled low and lips stretched into a disgusted sneer.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Kento gently murmurs, pulling his hand back, interrupting your self-destructive thoughts. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me—think you can do that for me baby?”

Numbly, through all the noise in your mind, you follow Kento’s voice like a lifeline, nodding with an uncoordinated jerk of your neck.

“Good girl,” he praises you kindly. “Now I’m gonna need you to move your hands away from your mouth,” Kento instructs, adding softly, “Gotta stop holding your breath sweetheart, gotta let yourself breathe, even if your breathing isn’t quite right yet.”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod again, dropping your hands from your mouth. But, once your hands drop, you stop trying to control your gasping breathing and begin to panic at the heavy heaving of your chest. Now, you’re breathing too irregularly and awkwardly: inhaling when you need to exhale and exhaling over your exhales and struggling to just take a solid breath in because your lungs won’t listen.

Because you’re breathing too rapidly, you’re simultaneously suffocating and breathing too much, escalating your panic. You’re scared and getting lightheaded and it’s too much—one hand comes up to muffle your mouth again almost immediately.

However, this time Kento is prepared, and his voice pulls you back to reality as he murmurs, “Ohhh, baby. It’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice is low and sweet and it makes you pause, instinctively wanting to listen. “I know it’s scary, but you have to keep your hand away from your mouth. Don’t try to restrict your breathing—there you go, there’s my good girl.”

You’ve tugged your hand away again, placing it in your lap as you blink up at Kento through watery lashes.

“Alright, sweetheart, now I want you to focus on your breathing. I’m going to take a few deep breaths and I want you to try to match your breathing with mine,” he says gently. “Does that sound okay?”

You nod shakily, panic ebbing slightly as you listen to his familiar voice and begin to follow the slow rhythm he sets.

“Inhale…. Exhale…”

“Inhale…” Exhale.

Inhale… Exhale….

“Good girl, that was perfect. You’re doing amazing, love,” he praises. You know he’s just being kind—your breath is stuttering and you’re involuntarily mixing up the inhales and exhales—but Kento’s reassurance makes you feel safe and calm regardless.

After a few more cycles of breath, the dizziness fades and oxygen begins steadily flowing through your lungs as you follow Kento’s lead.

Inhale… “Exhale…”

“Inhale… Exhale…”

Inhale… Exhale….

As you continue to try to control your breathing, you reach out to pick up his hand, trying to silently bridge the gap between you two, making the small first move to show him that you’re slowly becoming more comfortable and grounded. He lets you lace your hand in his, thumb comfortingly brushing against the skin of your hand, the touch gently reassuring you that you’re safe.

Soon, you feel confident enough to wordlessly move towards Kento, letting him wrap you up in a comforting embrace. Being in his arms always makes you feel better, and now that you’ve calmed down enough to realize that he’s not going to hurt you, you press yourself into his chest, searching for his steady patience and gentle manner. Your breathing has evened out, and your mind has cleared enough for you to begin flipping back on what just happened. Kento stays quiet, letting you sort through the cascade of emotions you just experienced, but the silence doesn’t feel hostile—it’s welcoming and patient.

You were kissing Kento, and then he.. he touched you and it freaked you out, and then he was talking to you and… And then he asked you a question. He asked if… He wanted to know if—

Oh my god. You lied to him.

Oh god. You need to apologize—own up to what you did and tell him the truth. But as you think about what to do, your breath begins to stumble over itself again and your heart rate picks up, anxiety taking over your senses.

Your eyes fill up with tears and you look up at Kento, saying in a small voice, “Ken? I… I lied to you… earlier.” Your words are continually interrupted by an emerging pattern of involuntary breaths and hiccups, but you continue on, “I… When y-you asked… S-someone has hurt—hurt me.. before… I lied to—to you.”

You’re fully crying now, and Kento tries calming you down, rubbing your back carefully, heart sinking at your tears and the way your breathing begins to turn into struggling gasps again.

“Oh, darling. I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into the top of your head, continuing to gently soothe your back. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Thank you for telling me—my brave, brave girl.”

Kento’s heart hurts. It hurts knowing that you’ve been hurt in the past, that you’re sobbing in his arms because someone hurt you. It hurts knowing that you felt too scared to tell him the truth, and it hurts even more knowing that you feel scared to admit that you lied. He wants you to feel comfortable with him—to know that you should never be scared of him.

“I-Im,” you choke out through gasping breaths, “‘m sorry—I’m sorry, so—sorry. I’m sorry, K-Ken.”

You’re not sure what you’re apologizing for, you just know that you need to be apologizing for something. Maybe you’re apologizing for lying. Maybe you’re apologizing for having been assaulted. Maybe you’re apologizing to try to appease Kento so he won’t be as angry with you for your betrayal—for not being the person he thought you were. Maybe you’re apologizing for not letting him continue to touch you—for stopping before you’re hurt again.

But Kento just shakes his head kindly, patting your back good-naturedly in response. “It’s okay sweetheart. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Shhhh, shhhhhh, you’re okay, it’s okay, shhhhh,” he coaxes gently.

“I’m sorry—sorry, ‘m really sorry f-for lying to you.” You keep apologizing, barely registering his words to you. All of your guilt from everything has cumulated, and though you’re apologizing for lying, deep down you’re apologizing for much, much more.

“It’s okay, darling,” Kento tells you quietly, ever so patient as you choke on sob after sob. “I’m not upset with you, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m not angry, baby.”

His voice is so achingly gentle, and the way he rubs circles into your back makes your heart break and shatter. How can a person be filled with so much good? You expected anger and rejection, but Kento is being so accepting and sweet it makes you break down into tears. After being mistreated for so long, it feels odd to be embraced so wholly and kindly, and you feel like you don’t deserve to be treated with so much care.

Kento, however, is on a mission to make you feel better. He gracefully waves off your apologies, insisting that it’s okay, that you have nothing to be sorry for. Instead, he apologizes, bowing his head as he begs your forgiveness for overstepping your boundaries. When you shake your head vehemently, insisting he didn’t do anything wrong, he just scolds you gently, “You don’t need to take the blame for everything—it’s okay to give yourself a break. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry. I pushed you past what you were comfortable with and it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

That makes you go quiet, the silence split only by your uneven and choppy breathing—remnants of the tears still sporadically tumbling from your lashes. Kento’s apology is earnest, and his insistence that you not blame yourself makes you see the situation in a new light.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s okay for you to give yourself a break once in a while. Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong and you’re just so used to being told it was your fault that you’ve come to believe it. Maybe, even if he didn’t mean you any harm, he still hurt you, and you deserved his apology for the way it scared you.

You’re silent for a little while longer, but then you reach up and pat him on the head, fluffy strands of hair ruffled by the act of affection.

“Thank you, Ken,” you tell him with a sweet, forgiving smile. “Thank you for apologizing, but I don’t blame you for what happened. You didn’t know my exact boundaries and you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’s okay, really.”

However, there’s still one more thing in the back of your mind bothering you.

“But… Do you still.. want to be with me? I mean, does it bother you that—that—” You break off, unable to finish your sentence.

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me, love.” Kento pulls back slightly, one arm cradling your back as the other moves to wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “This doesn’t change anything, okay? You’re still the same person I fell in love with, and I’m not ‘bothered’ by anything about you. Nothing about this is your fault, and I would never treat it as such.”

You nod, relief written all over your face as you breathe out, “Okay, okay.”

“Seriously,” he huffs. “Where are you getting these silly ideas from? I would never leave you, especially not over this.”

Kento seems almost offended that you think he’d stoop so low, tapping your nose as he clucks his tongue in disapproval. You just shrug self-consciously, a little flustered by how sincere he’s being.

“Okay, then,” you sigh dramatically, scrubbing away at the last of your tears. “I guess I’ll have to just take one for the team and stay with you forever—since you’re obviously so obsessed with me.”

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “You’re quite generous, entertaining this obsession.”

“Yup,” you confirm, waving a dismissive hand as you continue in a conspiratorial whisper, “It’s your lucky day. I’m running a one-night special where I grant the favors of my fans.” A grin is slowly making its way onto your face, and your smile bleeds into your tone when you tease, “Don’t get too excited though—I know it’s big news.”

Kento has the most lovesick look on his face as he looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I’m certainly one lucky fan.”

And you giggle at that, wrapping your arms around his middle as you snuggle into his hold. “You’re my favorite fan,” you mumble into his shirt, pressing your cheek against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.

“Hey, does that mean you have other fans you like?”

—

bonus:

“What are you watching?” You ask, poking your head over Kento’s shoulder to peek at the video he’s watching on his phone.

He jumps up, shutting off the screen immediately, stuttering, “N-nothing, darling.”

You’re unconvinced, reaching for his phone as you squint at him. “Really? You seem awfully jumpy for someone doing ‘nothing,’” you deadpan. Then, you narrow your eyes, accusing, “You better not be watching extra episodes of that kdrama you said you hated without me. I know you secretly love it—it’s okay, you can admit it!”

You’ve got a smug grin on your face and Kento doesn’t even try to fight it as you enter the passcode to his phone (your birthday, of course), accepting defeat and rubbing at his temples as the screen unlocks to the Youtube video he’d been watching. He’d rather endure the teasing than try to wrestle the device away from you and accidentally hurt or scare you in the process.

“‘Helping Someone Who Is Having A Panic Attack,’” you read out loud, glancing up at your boyfriend as your eyes widen, grin slowly fading. You click on his watch history, jaw dropping as you see his recently played videos.

What Is A Panic Attack?

How To Help Your Friend During A Panic Attack

Signs Of Hyperventilation And How To Stop Hyperventilating

Best Breathing Technique To Calm Panic Attacks And Anxiety

What NOT To Say To Someone Who Is Having An Anxiety Attack

“Oh my.. Oh my god. Oh my god, Ken.” Your eyes have welled up with tears. You can’t believe he’s been researching how to help you—you don’t even have words to describe how emotional this makes you feel.

Kento has a sheepish look on his face, a little embarrassed you caught him binging those videos. “Yeah… I uh..” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Just wanted to… yknow…” He shrugs, and it’s pathetic and lame and it makes you love him that much more. “Wanted to make sure I was doing the right thing… Just in case you ever get… scared.. again.” He coughs a little, looking self-conscious. “Not—not that I think it’ll happen again but—”

You cut him off before he can get another word in, practically suffocating him as you wrap him up in a tight hug. Your arms around his neck are squeezing, but Kento doesn’t make any moves to stop you. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist, turning his head to press a kiss to your cheek as you whisper, “Thank you,” voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

—

if you've made it this far: thank you for reading :) please take care of yourself, and for all of my survivors out there, please know that it's not your fault, never will be your fault, and never has been your fault!! i love you all and i hope everybody has a great rest of their summer :D

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #jjk fluff #jjk comfort #jjk fluff & comfort #nanami fanfic #nanami fluff #kento nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk nanami #nanami x you #nanami x fem!reader #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen comfort

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jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

Reaper 12

This is 14.1k of pure smut. I hope that makes up for the wait!😇😇😇😇

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Warnings- Dom/Sub dynamics, subspace, domspace, spitting, slapping/impact play, degradation kink, praise kink, kink negotiation, mention of knife play, name calling, a mix of mean and soft Dom H. oopses.

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"What is it that you wanted to talk about?” Bunny couldn’t help the words from spilling from her mouth. They had just settled in back at the hotel after a quick stop to snack. Harry handed her some chips he’d saved from the airport lounge, wanting to make sure she was full as he took a seat next to her on the couch.

“I have some questions for you, that's all. If you have any for me we can also talk about it.” Harry spoke as he pulled open the bag of chips, “I want to know some more about what you like, yeah? Know I can make them all happen, want to see how you like it best.” He was already feeling himself get worked up.

He placed a few chips in his mouth to stop himself from revealing his true impatience. He loved to tease himself with it, hear her talk about all the things he knew he’d blow her mind with if she let him.

Bunny felt a warmth wash over her under his stare. Harry was like a wolf waiting to pounce, like an animal who enjoyed playing with his food. Her eyes locked with his again, eyes hazy with desire.

“I’m really curious. About a lot of things.”

Harry understood that. He hadn’t been sure what exactly she had been a part of or researched herself besides what she had already told him about the anal play, but he sure as shit was going to find out. “That’s good. Being curious and interested is a good thing. I think… I want to start off with what you definitely don’t think you want to do.” He stroked over her shoulder.

There was so much he wanted to do with her that the list of things he didn’t want to do was extremely small. “I know we’ve had rough sex, I’ve edged you, degraded you a bit. And you’re good with all of that, yeah?” He questioned, slipping his fingers under the neck of her shirt to feel the warm skin of her bare shoulder. Her nod was immediate and eager, making him smile. “Good. I just want to tell you that you can be comfortable with me. There’s no need to be embarrassed or hesitant to bring things up. I want you to be open and honest with me and tell me about the things you’d like to do. Your wildest dreams, things you fantasize about, things you are curious about. Should have had a better chat about this before if m'honest, and that’s my fault for not doing it.” He frowned. “But I’m gonna try to be the best I can here. So open that pretty mouth and get to talkin’.”

“I don’t think I’d be a fan of anything that could permanently harm me, but… I do enjoy a bit of pain.” She had always had an interest in it. Something about the rough touch always got her throbbing, aching for more. “The stinging feeling is really nice. I also don’t think I’d like to do anything too humiliating. I don’t think you would, because you know most of my limits. For most sexual things I’m more sensitive to rejection.”

Bunny knew she could get so into pleasing her partner, that it’s gotten her into trouble before. Sometimes she was so lost in the feeling that she forgot what she previously said she wouldn’t do. It was a shame she’d found out what she hated most was disrespect.

“I just know that I want to feel your touch on every inch of me so much that I feel it on me the next day.” The desire to be marked by his touches and kisses were overwhelming. “Want to give into you, want you to make me.”

The desires were tame, in his opinion. Dislikes basic and very do-able. He wouldn’t ever want to cause permanent harm. Quite frankly, the man would rather die than leave a mark that would last more than a few days. The thought of her in pain that didn’t lead to pleasure made him sick.

“Noted. I don’t think I need to tell you I wouldn’t ever do something that hurt you last fading in a few hours or days. But you like to feel it after, then. The burn, the sting, the ache. I like that.” He smirked to himself, fingers finding her necklace that had been tucked under her shift and fiddled with it.

“When you say pain, what are we thinking? Because there’s a few levels to it.” He shifted slightly, angling his body towards her. “We’ve got spanking, we’ve done that. Hair pulling. Biting. Scratching. All things I'm a fan of. Then you can go on to toys and impact play with them. Paddles, whips, canes. I’m not a massive fan of the cane, if I’m honest. Paddles, absolutely. Whips are a gray area for me. I’ve used them before and enjoyed them, but the person was a true masochist.” He explained. Bunny didn’t seem like the type to like whips, but he also had been shocked she liked anal play, so .

“We have pain that’s derived from pleasure. That’s what I like. Overstimulation. Making you orgasm over and over until it hurts and you’re sensitive- and doing it again.” He licked his bottom lip, knowing he had gone easier on her in the past. “I enjoy what we’ve done but I haven’t gone as heavy handed as I could be. Haven’t been as rough. We haven’t had this conversation properly, so I wasn’t ready to do that.” There was a slight pause. “You know subspace, yeah? It happens for dominant people too. S’called dom space. I’d like to venture into that at some point. Haven’t fully allowed myself to do it yet because, if I’m honest, didn’t really give a true fuck about anyone I was with beyond respecting them and caring for them as a human when we’d play like that. But I trust you.”

“Whips don’t sound fun and canes no… but I don’t mind a paddle, though your hands already feel good.” Bunny flirted, already a bit squirmy at the idea. She had a feeling he would be delivering many stinging slaps against her skin, the sounds she was already imagining ringing through her ears.

“Dom space? What does dom space feel like to you?” The girl was genuinely curious. She wanted to make sure that he was also properly taken care of, her hand reaching for his to place a soft kiss to it.

Bunny hadn’t had a proper dom before. She remembered her first time in subspace she didn’t realize what was happening, she just remembered how sensitive she had gotten and how much she forgot about. How easy it was for her partners to take advantage. Bunny had no doubt Harry would get her there and treat her appropriately.

“To me… it feels like I’m elevated. Maybe a little high. I haven’t fully felt it yet, but it’s similar in essence, I’ve heard, to subspace. I’m more aware, though. More in tune with you.” It was a difficult thing for him to explain out loud. “However, I’m okay with no whips and canes. Not my preferred method either way. I like feeling the sting in my palm.”

Harry liked seeing the flesh ripple under the hit, seeing it bloom. He loved watching her jolt and fall back into his hand, fingers digging into the sheets or curling into a fist as the hit strike went straight to their stomachs. The sound of it, the sharp snap, all of it appealed to him.

“And for us… I think aftercare will always be important. It usually is, but you’re very sensitive and I can imagine that if you drop in that way, s’intense for you.” He murmured, looking at her face as she was deep in thought. This was both an interesting and arousing conversation to have, but he needed safety first. He felt so much for her, he would never want to put any bit of it in jeopardy. “Can y’tell me some about what you’d like from me after doing something intense? Know you love to be held and praised but, do you need more? Something different?” Her needs needed to be catered to. It was his first time doing this with someone who hasn’t actually participated in this, only by accident here or there. He wanted the experiences with him to be as positive as humanly possible. “Anything to avoid after?”

“Don’t want to be left alone, even if we have to clean up or something just take me with you or lay with me.” She knew that for certain. “Probably need some water and something sweet at some point to get me back if it takes a bit, I’ve never fully dropped so I’m not sure what exactly I’d need but… yeah, just don’t leave until you know I’m back.”

Maybe this was a new thing that was developing, but she always had this fear even without the subspace. Abandonment was a tough feeling to navigate, especially having her brother and her dad in and out of the house growing up. Sometimes she worried they wouldn’t make it back, one night her dad didn’t. It seeped through into her sex life and partners, she didn’t want them to leave.

“I know after we do something intense I’ll just feel very vulnerable, so just be gentle and I will be okay. You’re already good at it, you know? I’m sure it will feel amazing afterwards.”

“Okay.” He could manage that. Actually– he didn’t know how he could do anything but gentleness and sweetness to her after the fact. That was something he was usually quite good at with her so far, thankfully. He hadn’t been confident in his ability to be gentle before they’d started.

“I’ll take note of that. That’s pretty basic aftercare from what I’ve noticed so it wouldn’t be difficult for me. I kind of want to take care of you all the time.”

The admission took her by surprise, the smile blooming on her face as she felt heat under her skin. He liked taking care of her? She preened at that. He didn’t even seem like he had much of a choice. It was natural for him when it wasn’t for anyone else, which made her feel especially good.

“Next question is… what are you the most curious about trying? Things you’ve been wanting to try with me or been a bit nervous to bring up. I want you to be open with me and tell me the real things you want so I can make sure you’re satisfied.” He moved his hand out of his shirt to knuckle over her jaw, smiling when she tilted her head to lean into his touch.

“I um…” Bunny was a bit lost on how to properly say the words out loud. It would shocking for him to hear from her, but the thought of it sent shivers up her spine. “You’ve always been really adamant on not laying a hand on me physically, never with malicious intent.” She shifted so she was facing him better. “But that stinging feeling I was talking about earlier, I want you to slap me.” The words hung in the air for a moment. Saying the words out loud made her a bit nervous, “You just… look really sexy when you’re angry and I know that I should probably be scared when I’ve seen you like that, but I’m not. All I ever think about is you fucking the life out of me.”

There had been many fantasies Bunny had about him taking his rage out on her, through sex of course. Perhaps it was something she should work out in other ways, unpack why it aroused her, but she didn’t want to. That emerging side of her wanted to explore it. Her eyes blinked up at him, expecting him to try and convince her otherwise. It seemed like her words only made him think harder.

Harry looked at her, brows shooting up at the request. It was one of the last things he had expected her to say, really. One he had to take a second to think about.

“You want me… to slap you?” He said it slowly, looking at her curiously. Harry didn’t want to make her feel nervous or embarrassed in the slightest, but it was one he was going to tread with caution. “To hit you in the face? I need clarification.” This wasn’t something to assume about.

At her nod, he licked his lip nervously before brushing his fingertips against her heated cheek. “So… explain it to me. When would you want me to smack you?” He questioned, looking at her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. “You’d want it when I’m inside you? Want me to just use my judgment to do it, or you’ll tell me when you want it?” He was full of questions, obviously. “I’m not opposed. I’ll keep it light, I don’t want any marks on your face and I know how to control my strength but, I’m very curious about how you came up with that. Is it something you’ve always liked or…” was it just for him?

Bunny felt playful, pressing a nip to the side of his thumb as he brushed over her lips.

“It’s a very recent thing, it’s definitely something you’ve made me aware of where I wasn’t before the spanking.” She thought back to the first time she felt those initial bubbles of interest. It made her cunt feel warm from the inside, the sting traveled through her in waves.

“I’d want it up to you, but I’ll also tell you if I want it… can deny the request if you need.” It was a layered request, she wanted him to claim a certain type of dominance over her. She was ready to let go for him if he let her. The conversation was making it harder for her to keep it together, but she wanted to see where else the conversation would take them.

“If you want to do it while you’re inside, that’d be hot. I’ll always tell you if it’s too much.” Bunny had a way about her when it came to him. She knew just how to deliver things to get through to him.

“Hm. Okay.” It was a little intimidating, that request. Mostly because he hadn’t imagined it before, never even dreamed of it, but he found that he would probably do anything for her pleasure. As long as it was consensual.. It was fine with him. He would try it. “We’ll try that. I wasn’t expecting that in the slightest… knew you liked spanking but that’s different. You’re gonna have t’tell me if you like it when we try it.” There was a chance she wouldn’t, and he was prepared for that. “It’s okay if you don’t. It’s exploring, isn’t it?” Her nod made him relax a little bit. He’d never had this sort of conversation with someone he gave a shit about.

“I do have some more questions though. I can see you’re getting worked up but I need you to know you aren’t getting a thing until we’ve finished discussing, so keep clenching your thighs if you want, but don’t tease me.”

Bunny was a tease and they both knew it. Harry was a weak man for her, but he wanted to continue. “What do you like so far? When we fuck… what’s the thing you like the most and want some more of? M’assuming a bit of the manhandling, moving you around and being a bit rough. I want to know what your favorites are.” He paused, tucking some of her hair back so he could see her face properly. “Cause I think I want to spit in your mouth a bit more. S’that okay with you?”

“That’s good, yes please.” She nodded and felt a tingle at the way his tone landed on her ears. So smooth and stern, yet so ready to devour her in every way.

“I really like it when you talk to me. You’re really intimidating but it’s so hot… makes me want to climb on top of you, like how you have your way with me.” Bunny was thinking about all of their encounters, thinking about how much attention he paid to her body. How he had made her feel dirty and beautiful. She wanted more.

“I love the way you talk about my body. How you make me wait. You love to tease me but I can take more.” Bunny liked a good challenge. “And um… since we’ve been in the clubhouse I um, I liked the idea of them hearing us. Part of me wanted them to see…” Her cheeks heated, looking down at her lap. That was more of a fantasy, she knew he would understand, but still intimidating to admit. “I wouldn’t mind someone watching if you approved of them.”

That got him interested. His girl was a bit of an exhibitionist, wasn’t she? He was very pleased at the moment, hearing her talking about what she’s liked that he’s done for her, what makes her go wild. He did tend to run his mouth a lot but Bunny liked it, encouraged it. He could see on her face right now that she would more than likely do anything he asked.

“My girl’s dirty, isn’t she?” He sighed, shaking his head with a little smile curled at the edge of his lips. “Like what you added there, at the end of that. If I approve. I do. I wouldn’t mind showing off. I just don’t want anyone else touching you.” That was a firm no go for him. He would blow their heads off. Harry wanted her solely to himself. “I’ll bring you somewhere to show you off if that’s something you’d enjoy. I’ve heard whispers of a club around here that we can do precisely that. But we aren’t going to let anyone else touch you. That’s a hard limit of mine. Y’understand me?”

His face was deadly serious and she felt a thrill go up her spine at it. He was that possessive of her. He’d shared partners before, she assumed, but he wanted her to himself only. The idea was very pleasing to her.

“Yes, sir. I’d love to go. I don’t want anyone else to touch us. They can just watch. I like the idea a lot.” She admitted, squirming again on the couch. The mere thought went straight to her cunt.

“Good. I won’t share.” He shot her a look that she probably didn’t need, but continued. “More hard limits of mine are vomit, bathroom stuff, not super into the food stuff besides whipped cream and chocolate, maybe… no cock cages for me, fisting for me, needles… fireplay. M’okay with wax or knife play but, I don’t want to be stabbed unless it’s a tattoo.” He was somewhat joking. He could see that intimidated her a bit, though.

“Know that’s intense. But I had to list them. I’m open to most things.”

“Oh well— yeah I definitely don’t like the sound of a lot of that either. But whipped cream and chocolate sounds fun. And sticky.” Bunny scrunched her nose at the thought but carried on, not allowing it to distract her. “Wax is good too… the knife play?” Bunny was intrigued but she wasn’t exactly sure if she would like it. “Can you tell me a little more about that? How would that work with us?” She wanted to see his vision, understand the filthy desires he kept quiet about. There was a thrill in the surprise most of the time, but she was in the mood to pick at his brain.

Harry looked so relaxed talking to her, his pupils dilated because he was truly in awe of the sight. Bunny got him going like nothing else, better than any drug or any revenge he’s gotten. His own vice.

“There’s a few ways we could do it. It’s a mix of wild adrenaline and your pain kink.” He teased, as if he didn’t have one to match. “I’d never go deep with it. Don’t even have to knick you. Just holding it to you, letting you feel the metal, the danger of it being close to your skin… it’s erotic. Danger is, I suppose.”

Harry’s whole life was danger. Filled with adrenaline releases and highs, it was something that he found to be creeping into his own sex life as he got older. He didn’t want to make her truly afraid, but the thrill went far. He knew that himself, the feeling of the cold metal running over his skin, even grazing him slightly had been enough to make him go wild.

“Could take the knife and hold it to your thigh. I’ve cut your panties off before, can do that with the rest of your clothes. Cut you out of them completely. Run it over your body. Even give you a little scratch with it. It all depends on your comfort. If you don’t want to, it isn’t a big deal. But I think you’d like it.”

It was really hot when he cut through her panties. That was a fond memory of hers.

“I did like it.” She was almost uncomfortably wet remembering how he looked at her, the slicing sound and her shock of her realizing what he had done. “I think I would like more, a scratch would feel good.” Bunny could already picture it against her skin, she did trust him with her life. He’d never harm her.

Her curiosity was getting the best of her, she wanted to hear more about what he liked. The answer didn’t quite satisfy the aching in her belly for more.

“Is there anything I do that you really like?” Bunny let her hand rest against his thigh, leaning closer into him. She desperately wanted to touch and kiss him, but they were having a serious conversation. It wouldn’t stop her from touching him.

It wasn’t that Harry had anything to hide, he just felt it was obvious. He was very vocal about the things he liked, practically everything she did got to him. The girl wanted to know.

His eyes went to her hand on his thigh, shooting up a brow as he looked back at her. She was trying her best to be good. He could see it, she was itching to be touched and vice versa, but she was holding on. It settled in his stomach, the satisfaction that she wanted to be good for him.

“There’s a lot of things I like. I like when you pull on my hair and you dig your nails into my skin. I like when you choke on me. When you let me use your mouth to fuck.” He took her hand in his own, tangling their fingers. Maybe he was taunting her a little bit.

“I like when you make noise. When you get so worked up that you babble a bit. Lets me know m’doing a good job.” His lips quirked up in a slight smirk. I do like occasionally when you’re a brat and you fight me a little bit, mostly because I like to take over and make you take it. I’ve been a bit tame with you so far with what I’ve done in the past. I’m going to keep going to work you up to more. But I want you to be vocal for me. Tell me what you like and what you want more of. That’s the shit I need for us to keep playing the way you want.” With a gentle squeeze, he released her hand and found her cheek, curling his fingers around it. Her body was practically vibrating with need and he could see it. He could feel it.

“Tell me what you’re feeling at this moment.”

“I feel really tingly…” She didn’t know what better word to use. “I feel like I need you to touch me or I need to touch you. Just want to kiss you so bad but we’re having a conversation and I don’t want to be rude.” Bunny was eager to play, she felt like she had had enough of the conversation now. It felt like it’s been ages since she felt his skin.

It made her feel so nice knowing there were things she did naturally that made him feel good. She rubbed over his hand with her thumb, though she couldn’t move it much. It was as if he was keeping her in place. Bunny kept her eyes on him, waiting patiently for his next move. His next words. She had been so good and planed on continuing. She wanted to get him in the best of moods, make him feel good after all the emotional turmoil they’ve both had.

Harry just couldn’t believe how good she was.

“I’m impressed with you.” He admitted to her. “You’re being incredible for me. Such a good girl.” The two last words came as a soft croon, his fingers gently squeezing her face as she melted into the touch. The praise itself has her toes curling, looking hazy eyed up at him with a new eagerness in her blood.

That was what she wanted. She wanted his praise and to impress him, to get him to be proud of her. That was the ultimate goal. Her restraint had given the desired effect, Harry’s approval making the tingles turn into vibrations in her body. Yes, this was her being his good girl.

“You need to ask for what you want.” He instructed. “Whether I’ll give it to you or not is up to me. But I’d like for you to speak up and tell me what you’d like when you’d like it.”

“Whenever?”

This was a big deal to her.

Bunny had never been one to vocalize her wants. She had always kept them to herself and expected her signals to do the talking for her. That wouldn’t do with Harry, but she liked it in a way. It was a challenge, but she didn’t mind asking him.

“I’m still so needy for you, you know? I can’t get it out of my system.” Bunny didn’t think she wanted to. “You’re going to be hearing it a lot more now.” She couldn’t be shy anymore, if she needed it she would have to tell him. “Because I really want you to fuck me like you’ve always wanted to.” She felt her heart rate speed up. “Want to try something new, but you can surprise me. I like it when you pick for me.” When she got to give up control.

There was something else she knew she was forgetting as she tried to rack her brain, feeling a bit shy when she remembered. “Ah and I really want a kiss before we start.”

Harry sat for a moment, looking at her with pride. She was perfect for him. Bunny wanted to give him what he wanted because it would give her pleasure. He wanted to give it to her. He really just wanted to ruin her. Make her boneless and soft and useless just for him.

“We are going to continue using the stoplight system. Green is good, more, you’re fine. Yellow… slow down. You’re okay but you need a moment or we need to pause. Red is stop. No matter what, red is stop. If you can’t talk, hit or knock three times. Do you get me?”

Her nod was immediate. That’s what she had been missing. Safe word. The intensity of it already had her feeling hot and needy and she had been rushing but of course, Harry knew what was missing. He always did.

“Yes. Yes- I get you, Harry. Can we kiss? Please?” Her plead sounded whiny, even to her, but she couldn’t help it. She was desperate and she wanted to start. “I was a good girl, right? I need a kiss. Please, sir.”

And so it began.

“Come on then. Come sit on me and give me the kisses you want.” He patted his lap, releasing her so she could climb on him.

It didn’t take much for Bunny to fling herself on him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while her cunt pressed over his crotch. Her breathing was deep, heavy with need as she paused to take a look at him.

“You’re so handsome.” She spoke fondly, leaning forward to kiss him in a kiss that was so much warmer than it was needy. Bunny kissed with intention, making sure he could feel how serious she was about this despite her horny mind taking over. Kissing Harry always felt like she was breathing, keeping him close. She took her time leaning further into his warmth. Harry’s hands were already finding their place on her body, smoothing over her hips and perky ass.

He gripped at the skin, kneading and pulling just enough to give her some type of pleasure. Very light, but sensual. His touch felt heavy with desire, every bit of pressure had a purpose.

“I am? M’handsome?” The words were spoken through kisses, right against her lips. Harry was smug. He was cocky and arrogant and it made her throb, the way he knew he was hot and he could give her what she wanted, it made her feel crazy.

“Mhm. So handsome.” She whispered back, needy with her kisses. The girl was barely giving them time to breathe, clinging to him with a need that Harry hadn’t experienced from her before. It was the most he had teased her since their first time together, the conversation having added to the arousal she felt. So desperate to be close to him, to have him all over her.

“Good. M’glad you think so, pretty girl. So fucking pretty, every inch of you. Y’know that? I think you’re the prettiest little slut that’s ever been in my lap.” He drawled, pulling back from her lips despite her whine. “You’ve got the sweetest cunt, too. Best I’ve ever tasted. Gets soaked for me. N’you let me take it bare, don’t you?” His hands pulled her closer. “You’re gonna let me do it again today. Stretch you open, fill you up to the brim. And maybe, if you’re a good girl and take it like I want, I’ll lick you clean. But you’re going to have to be well behaved and listen to every single thing I ask of you.” He nudged his nose against her own, but kept their lips from touching despite her frown. “You think you can handle it?”

“Yes, I can handle it.” Bunny was quick to answer but wasn’t so sure if she could. She was definitely going to try her best. Y/N wanted to see all that he had to offer, to listen to him despite how achy her cunt felt. He knew best it seemed. Bunny was hot, her clothes feeling tight on her skin but she didn’t dare move away from him. “Please don’t tease me too much, I really need to feel you.” Bunny wanted to connect with him desperately. She let her hand scratch at the back of his neck, smoothing her thumb over the side of it to show the sincerity in her tone.

“I will listen, I’ll relax, I just want to feel close to you.”

Their intimacy became the safest place for her. She never wanted that to change.

His eyes softened slightly at her request. As much as he wanted to play, he wanted to take care of her. He was going to make sure she was fully taken care of and her needs were met, but he was a tease. He supposed be could lay off a bit… for now.

“Okay. My sweet girl, you need to feel me inside of you. Is that it?” He stroked her hair back out of her face, smiling slightly at her nod. “Okay. We can do that. Let’s get you ready for me, hm?”

Harry slowly began to lift the shirt she was wearing, exposing her skin inch by inch. “I need to see this perfect body. Perfect cause every single inch belongs to me. Doesn’t it, my girl?” He questioned. “You let me have you as my girl. You let me touch you and kiss on you… you belong solely to me. Every fucking inch of you is mine.” His lips pressed against hers momentarily before he peeled the shirt over her head. “Tell me you’re my girl.”

“I am your girl, always have been.” She meant that as well. In her head she had always been his, it was only ever him on her mind. It was still settling in that he wanted her just as much. Even hearing him say she was his was sending chills up her spine. Did he really mean it?

She was going to believe it for right now. It felt too good to deny.

“I hope you like the sets I wear for you.” Bunny felt like they always got so caught up in the moment, rarely did they take the time to acknowledge them but she was sure he noticed. Bunny has tried her best to match the sets with her mood. The one she wore today was a deep wine color. Burgundy almost, clinging to her skin with lace detail.

She squeezed her breasts together using her arms, leaning into him to steal another kiss while he was thinking. She pressed another to his cheek and down his jaw, smiling to herself as he melted into her. It was her favorite feeling.

“Always. You’re the prettiest girl. Y’know that?” He was lucky. Harry had known that since she had actually given him the time of day. A girl like her deserved a lot better than Harry, but he was going to do his damn hardest to try and make sure he was good enough for her. To make sure he proved his worth just for her. She went around and wore pretty lingerie for him, dolled herself up and the least he could do was appreciate it.

“Love this one. The red….” It complimented her skin tone perfectly. He wanted to have this image engrained in his head forever. Her lips were moving on his skin, touching him and moving as she pleased, but he was letting her. He didn’t have any problems with it, actually. He loved letting her have her way- just for a little bit. “Want you on your knees for me, baby. Don’t do anything without instruction… but get down on them and give me your eyes. Can y’do that for me?”

“Yes, sir.” She slowly made her way down to her knees but not without stealing one last peck to his lips. Her hands moved across his thighs, for support… sure. Bunny just really wanted to feel him up one more time before she fully gave into him and his filthy plans for the evening. Her eyes landed back on his as she settled on the back of her heels, hands folded in her lap on top of her jeans. It was a bit awkward being half naked, but there was also something so hot about being exposed to him. Harry was ready to have her fully naked or fully clothed. She could see it in his eyes.

Bunny’s view from the ground gave her a new perspective on why he always asked her to get on her knees. It was for him to get into the headspace, for him to give into the desires he holds back. She could see his demeanor changing, a wave of excitement rushing through her. They’d never been this open.

“Unzip me.”

His fingers had popped the button already, letting it be a bit easier for her as he sat with his length thick in his pants. He was drawing it out, keeping it moving ever so slowly because he wanted to cherish this. Every single time with her was special, but this was the first time they were going to properly play. Her shaky hands were quick to do as he asked, unzipping the pants and going to reach in to grab him- only to stop. She realized halfway through.

“Saw that. You stopped yourself.” His hand lazily pet over her hair. “Good. Look at that… You’re learning already. S’my obedient girl.” His hand did the honors, reaching into his jeans to fish himself out of them.

His cock was sensitive, his lips holding back a hiss as it was exposed to the cooler air. Thick and heavy in his palm, he gripped it at the base and slid it up towards the ruddy tip, letting his thumb slide over the slit. His stomach tensed as he hummed in his throat at the feeling, watching her distressed face.

She wanted to be the one doing that.

“Hands on my thighs. Don’t move them until I say to.” He instructed, feeling her comply immediately. He could get used to this. “Lean over and spit on it. Get it wet. You don’t get to have it yet, but you can help me.”

Bunny looked at him for approval feeling herself throb against the fabric of her panties.They were ruined. Something about spitting was so sexy to the both of them. Bunny enjoyed watching the thickness bubble up and coat the tip of his cock, how shiny and slick he became all because of her. Even the strands of spit coming from her lips drove her wild. She could imagine how it must look for him.

Her hands stayed still with their grip on his thighs, though she wished she could do a little more. She wasn’t going to test her luck so early on, she could wait. She knew she could.

Harry brought a hand up to keep the hair away from her face, wanting to give her the freedom to move her head as she pleased. Comfort was still the most important to him at this stage.

“A bit more, baby.” Harry was watching it trail down the length of his cock, but waited for her to finish before letting himself spread it. The slick sounds that came from his strokes as he pulled back up seemed to light a spark in Bunny’s eyes.

She glowed with that permission, moving down towards him again and letting another string of spit slip from her pursed lips down to his cock. His large hand was stroking himself slowly, spreading it around as she did so while the other held her hair back, fist loose in the makeshift ponytail. He watched the scene, catching the saliva with his hand and smearing it over the length.

“Christ.” He muttered under his breath. “Thatta’ girl. Knew you could be good for me. Looks good doesn’t it?” He taunted slightly. “Getting me wet just like I asked. Looks nice, doesn’t it?”

Bunny was gagging for it. As much as she tried to be good, she couldn’t hide the desperation. The whole day, hell- the whole trip- had been foreplay. His still slightly bruised knuckles were teasing her. He was doing what she wanted to be doing, her hands tightening on his thighs as she gave him a soft little whine. “Yeah. I wanna taste.” She blinked up at him. “May I please? I want to have it.”

“You want it that bad?” Harry was fond of how eager she was to please him, his grip tightening only slightly. “Gonna stop when I say so? Yeah?” He asked her for confirmation, pulling her head a little closer to him. It was only a bit rougher than usual, but he wanted to warm her up to the feeling.

“I’ll be good.” Bunny promised him, her eyes widen and expecting to be guided down on his cock. She really liked the feeling of him tugging at her hair, it was only light, but she was already pulling her hair back a bit to keep the tension.

“Go on then, give it a taste.” He gave the go ahead, allowing himself to sit back and relax into the feeling of her hot mouth on him. Harry was never sure what to expect from her, the type of blowjob she gave usually depended entirely on her mood. It was exciting for him too, to see her open up to him in such an intimate way.

It sent a thrill up her spine as he gave in to her. She had been waiting for this all day. Part of her had loved the delayed gratification, sure, but there was nothing quite like getting her way. Immediately she took him into her mouth with excitement evident, her lips stretching over him. She focused on the tip, humming in relief as she tasted him on her tongue.

She couldn’t explain it fully, why she loved sucking him so much. With her other lovers, it had been nice but never this fulfilling. Half of it she attributed to the fact that it was just Harry. His approval, his pleasure, his affection was worth ten times more than anyone else she had ever been with. The physical act fueled her. The feel of him against her tongue, the weight of it inside of her mouth, how he stretched her mouth open to have a bit of an achy jaw as a reminder, all of it totaled up to the pleasure she got from it.

His fingers stroked over her head, eyes watching intently as she bobbed her head slightly. That part was just as thrilling, having his eyes on her as she did such an intimate act. She wanted to impress him. “You can take more than that, petal.” He clicked his tongue, hooded eyes looking down at her. “Don’t disappoint me. I want more of me in that mouth.”

Disappointing him is certainly something she did not want to do.

His instruction was all it took for her to take more of him. She took a moment to adjust her breathing and make sure she was going slow at first to get used to his girth. Her eyes began to water slightly as they usually did, but she took him like a champ. It was a struggle, but her need to please outweighed the discomfort.

“Fuck. Knew you could do it, perfect little mouth of yours.” Harry purred, already feeling the effects of relief. Just having her mouth over him was enough, the soft velvety walls were much more appealing than anything else he could imagine. She really was the perfect girl, there all along. “What am I going to do with you?” Harry asked no one in particular, locking eyes with her for a moment only to notice how messy she had gotten. “Look so pretty with your mouth stuffed, S’like you were made for it.”

She felt like she was made for it. Bunny was made for him and he knew that he was made for her. Her mouth had taken him so well, her eyes watering but the eagerness to please overshadowing any sort of discomfort she may have.

His hand pet over her face, tenderly stroking the cheek as he held her hair in the other first. His thumb smeared some of her spit over her chin, feeling her moan around him.

“Love that you’re desperate for it. S’how I feel when I get my mouth on that sweet cunt. You know that?” He thumbed over where her cheeks hollowed, taking him down again with a little gag. “Fuck, love to bury my tongue in you and make you messy for me. Tastes so sweet and you make the prettiest noises.” He pulled her further down on his cock, feeling that gag again and letting out a groan.

Bunny moaned at his words, the vibrations being sent down through his cock. Her eyes had started to water but none of it was stopping her from giving him the pleasure he deserved. His groans and the sight of his clenching jaw were enough to motivate her. He was so confident about what he wanted, never hesitating to pull her closer.

She could take it.

That was the beauty of it all. Looking down at her and seeing her needy eyes, hungry for more. Her tongue expertly rubbed over his most sensitive parts, she’d been such a quick learner. Harry swore there was no one who had known him better.

“So fucking good, came to me all on your own as well… opened up so nicely.” Harry rasped, a proud smirk appearing on his face. “Getting me ready, bet you’ve been soaked since we were in the store, hmm?”

She hummed an agreement against him, sinking down again and holding her spot there without his prompt. The need to make him feel good felt engrained in her, wanting to make her hand herself over to him on a polished silver platter to do whatever the fuck he wanted to her. Getting to pleasure him was her favorite thing to do. The weight of his cock on her tongue grounded her. She was making a mess, but it was out of pleasure.

Her trance was stopped as he pulled her off of his cock, a string of spit dripping down her chin to her breasts as she looked at him confused. She’d been doing good, just as he had asked. Why did he stop?

“Stand up.” The tone of his voice made her shiver. Harry’s demands lit a fire under her, clumsily standing up to meet him as he lifted up as well. His gaze was intimidating, her dazed eyes looking into his darkened ones with need to know what he wanted her to do next.

Luckily he had done it for her. His lithe fingers found the mess on her chin, wiping it up and smearing it on her mouth. “Open. Tongue out.” Obedient, the swollen lips fell open and Harry hummed in approval, taking two spit covered digits and wiped the wetness on her tongue. “Good girls clean up their messes. Suppose that’s why you’re Daddy’s slut.”

Bunny could feel that familiar tingly heat crawl its way up her body, a warmth only Harry could make her feel. She blossomed for him even when his words were filthy, when he looked down at her as if he was ravish.

That’s exactly what he planned to do.

Harry admired the glistening spit that stuck to her breasts, eyes trailing along the wetness until he reached her lips once again.

“So pretty like this, get to have you just how I like now. No distractions.” That alone was getting Harry harder by the second. It was just him and his girl alone in a different city. His city. “Gonna show you exactly how it’s supposed to be, just how I would have done it had I known what I know now.”

Harry promised on this trip they would pretend, but to him it felt like it was also his own fantasy that was coming true. A look into a future he never thought he could have. A normal life with the girl he wanted most.

“You want more, pretty girl?”

“Please.”

The desperation in her voice was enough to push Harry over the edge. She had told him exactly what she liked, exactly what she had been thinking about with him and her fantasies that had been lingering about her brain.

“Such a pretty girl. So beautiful, look at your skin. Flawless.” His fingers moved down her torso, feeling her tense up slightly in anticipation while he caressed her. “Beautiful little thing. Best part is, you’re all mine.” His voice dropped, slowly backing her up to the bed.

Bunny swallowed, eyes wide as she walked backwards as he coaxed her. His tone, his words, all of it was magic and sensual, hot and dirty. He didn’t stop talking and that was something that she realized she loved. How filthy his mouth could be for her. The throbbing between her legs was intense, surely enough evidence smeared on her thighs and wetting the skin. “I am. I’m yours.” She peeped, gasping as he pushed her back and made her fall on to the bed.

“M’glad you know that. Your body certainly does.” Hands urged her thighs apart. “Let me see now. I know you’re soaked. Could smell it.”

Bunny relaxed against the softness of the bed beneath her, closing her eyes to focus more on the feeling of the silky sheets and the roughness of hands over her thighs. She wasn’t trying to fight it this time, relaxing to fully spread herself out for him.

“You really are dripping, look at you..” Harry squeezed the inside of her thigh, rubbing over the skin before smacking his hand right over it. It was quick and sharp, the way she mentioned she’d like. “Could slip right in if I wanted to,” Harry dipped his head down to mutter against her skin, licking over it to soothe the sensitivity.

Bunny’s breathing was heavy, squirming at the new sensations he was bringing to her. His grip stayed tight on her, shifting her legs over his shoulders so he could have better access. “Been squeezing these pretty thighs, but you aren’t asking for what you want…” Harry was unsatisfied with her hesitation, biting into her skin just enough for her to let out a surprised moan. “Why so quiet?“

“Y-you didn’t tell me to make noise.” She squeaked, the sting of his bite making her pant. Bunny loved a bit of teeth, specifically Harry’s. She wanted his marks all over her body. To feel him when she walked. The incessant need to be owned by him was unforgiving.

“So now you’re choosing to be quiet?” He shook his head, looking up at her from his rightful place. Nestled between her thighs, his eyes were dark and glossy, hair tousled and unusually messy from her hands and the day’s work. The man looked edible. Her body reacted to every single part of him, but his beauty was something that couldn’t be compared.

“M’sorry.” She whined. “Wanted to be good. I want…” it felt hard to get the words out. His stare was almost intimidating to her, his hands squeezing over her skin and making her feel his fingertips as his lips brushed over the flesh right above her pussy.

“I want, I want, I want…” he mocked, sneering down at her. “Then say it. Tell me what you fuckin’ want. Or m’going to spank your cunt and jerk myself off onto it. Shouldn’t be this dumb before my cock gets inside of you.”

Bunny really couldn’t make up her mind. Part of her wanted his mouth on her, licking and sucking at her cunt as if it was his last meal. Another part of her wanted to feel his fingers rub up inside of her, forcing multiple orgasms from her with the calloused pads of his fingers. His cock was the most prominent thought in her mind, the feeling of fullness was something she couldn’t erase from her mind.

“I wanna feel full.” Y/N managed to say, hands moving to grab a hold of his. His forearm, his hand, anything to soothe the ache between her thighs. All she could feel was his hot breath on her, not daring to open her eyes and face him. Not when she could hear the smugness in his voice.

“Full?” He let his nose nudge through where her hip and thigh met. He pressed a few kisses there, nipping at the skin. “Not yet. Try again.” Harry wanted to enjoy playing with her body just a bit more. He liked how reactive she was to him and just how much he could test her patience.

“Please?” Her voice frayed, opening her eyes to look down at him. “I want it. I’ve been good.” She insisted, stomach jumping with breaths as his lips kissed over the insides of her thighs. He was teasing her, taunting her. All the girl needed was tom cum, but she had to admit that the way he spoke had her eyes rounding.

“You have been?” He laughed under his breath. “According to who, darling?” Giving it to her too easily would make her spoiled. He knew she could hold out for a moment, so he decided to taste a little bit. His eyes kept their vision in her face as he pressed a kiss over the top of her cunt, letting her wetness stain his lips. “A good girl would give me her eyes when she knows how much I like to see them.” The fingertips pressed harder to spread her legs open, moving his mouth down to brush his tongue up and over her clit. “Christ… Soaked cunt just from sucking me, having dirty conversations. Couldn’t believe it when I found out how nasty and deprived my seemingly sweet girl is. And even still…” he sighed, removing a hand to spread her cunt open for his viewing pleasure. “You don’t know how to ask for my cock correctly.”

Bunny tried her best to sit up, giving him her eyes just like he had asked. It was hard to keep herself up when she was already starting to float away in her mind, but his eyes caught hers and pinned her down. She couldn’t make herself look elsewhere. It managed to snap her out of the haze she was in, sinking into the sensual space they’ve created.

“I do know how…” She argued, breath mirroring the way he was breathing against her cunt. “Don’t want you to stop this though.” She collected herself, though she was still feeling shy about how much she loved his teasing. She loved when he drew it out. His mouth drew closer to her cunt once again and her breath hitched as his teeth grazed the skin and soothed it with his tongue.

“You really like teeth don’t you, baby?” He let the pet name spill from his mouth, he didn’t even realize he’d said it as he continued. “If you want my cock, ask correctly. Know you’re a bit empty, didn’t know it counted in your head too. Use your brain”

He licked a broad stripe up her cunt, sighing in relief as her hand made its way to the back of his head. He liked feeling it there. Normally he’d never let someone touch him without permission, but he craved her touch far more than he anticipated.

“May I please have your cock, sir?” Bunny asked, tugging at the hair at the back of his head. “Can I please feel you fill me? Want to feel you deep inside, want you to spank me, take me sir.”

He chuckled against her cunt, pulling back with the slight shining on his lips as he looked up at her. She sounded wrecked already, the poor thing. Harry’s favorite way to have her. “Look at that, sweetheart. You’ve got a brain after all.” He cooed, the mean words given with a sweet, condescending tone. Pulling his head up, he moved up to sit on his knees as he kept her legs pried open. “You want to be full, I know. The spanking, I can help you with.” He kept his eyes on her as he used his palm to smack directly over her cunt.

She gasped, squealing at the sting. God, did the pain feel good, but it confused her body. It hurt slightly, but it triggered her pleasure. A new sensation for her and a confirmation for him as he did it again, causing her body to jolt on the blanket and give him a whine. Bunny felt hazy and hot, lifting her hips up to ask for more.

“None of that.” He chastised her with a frown. “Keep these legs spread. If you want my cock, you’ve got to be a good fucking girl for me. Know as soon as you get my cock inside of you, you’re going to be useless so m’talking you now.”

Bunny nodded, heaving a bit as the sensation spread in waves through her body. The gentle throbbing made her clench as he kept his eyes on her. “I’ll stay still. I promise, I'm just excited.” Y/N could feel her heart rate picking up, the new level of roughness from him was turning her on even more. The way he mocked her had her jaw going slack.

“Still. Tell me what you feel, tell me if you can handle more. Need to open you up a bit.” Harry couldn’t take it much longer, he needed his fingers knuckles deep inside her cunt. The slickness he dreamed about was just in front of him, the smell he fell in love with. He thought it was time he tested her.

“Gotta stay with me baby, gonna do a good job for me so I can slip right in there. Fill you up like you’re begging for.” Harry let his fingers spread open her cunt, spitting right down onto it. “Been a bit greedy with my fingers, bet you can take a few?” He purred and slipped one finger inside.

She squirmed slightly despite her best efforts to sit still. Never in her life had she felt so empty before, but this whole day had felt like foreplay to her. His attentive nature all day, their conversation, sucking him off, all of it had her nerves on overdrive and ready to burst. His single finger wasn’t enough, but it was a relief. Her little noise had him laughing to himself, seeing her struggle with the efforts to keep her hips down as he had ordered from her. It was almost embarrassing to hear how wet she was, the sound of it audible with his actions.

“More. I can take more, I promise.” She needed more, really. Harry knew that and he was absolutely teasing her, but he loved doing that to her. He’s never gone very far with making her beg so far and their sex had been only slightly kinky, but now it was going to get good.

“You can? Greedy cunt can take some more fingers?” He taunted, grinning wickedly. It shot a fear that morphed into pleasure in her stomach. Harry noticed the way her stomach tensed allowing his free hand to rub over it, preparing her for another finger. He was still gentle, but slipped in with more force than Y/N expected.

“Oh— like that...” Bunny remembered he wanted her to speak up more, vocally guide him through the motions she was enjoying. “Like it harder, like the pressure.” It was as if he was reading her mind, fingers curling to press against her walls with more intent.

“I’m gonna stretch you out so well, love when I knead you open, how you relax against my fingers. Such a greedy cunt, still squeezing me so tight.” Harry breathed against her thigh, looking up at her through his lashes. He lapped up some more of her wetness before shifting up higher on her body.

He wanted to feel all of her, kiss her and fuck his fingers up into her till she was screaming for him to stop. Harry swore he never wanted to fill someone so badly, to take them and make them feel him for days. Another finger dipped inside causing her grip on his hair to tighten.

“Fuck me…” Bunny squeaked, feeling the burning sensation crawl up her thighs. Relaxing into the pain, the slow rocking of his fingers, the way he bit just along her neck. She was lost in it.

“M’gonna, angel. Don’t worry about that. All you’ve got to do…” he placed a sloppy kiss to the sensitive spot right underneath her ear. “Is be my good girl n’do exactly as I say. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

She keened at the feeling. His fingers were filling her up and stretching her just like he had promised, but it wasn’t enough. Bunny had always known that she was needy for him, for his attention, for his touch, but it felt extreme right now. His hot tongue on her skin and the ends of his hair tickling her, the fingers fucking into her cunt nice and slow, it was enough to send her mind into a tizzy.

“Please, please, please, please… fuck me.” She sulked, trying her hand at begging again. “I’ll be good, I’ll be the best girl, just want you I-inside.” She stuttered, eyes wet with frustration. It felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get what she needed.

Harry’s lips paused on her neck where he had been leaving traces of him, slowly moving up to peck her own. They curled up, a laugh against her mouth feeling especially cruel. “One more please. I don’t think you really want it bad enough.”

“Please.” Bunny would say anything to get it from him, Harry was aware of that as well. His excited Bunny had never been good at waiting, he was expecting her to put up a bit of a fight. “Wanted you on the other day and on the plane, waited all day today while you were talking dirty and teasing me, I wanna be good— don’t you like how tight I feel? Wanna feel how deep you can go. Please sir.”

She’d been spoiled rotten with sex, Harry couldn’t bring himself to say no. It was hard to do so when she brought out the most primal parts of him, he had focused on her body and was going to have his way with it. With just a little more patience.

“Such a needy cunt I have, been nothing but nice to you and it’s still not enough.” Harry chuckled, moving his fingers just over the spot that made her shake. “What are you going to do when you can’t have me?“ Not that Harry was ever going to leave, but the thought of her crying and begging for his touch did make his cock ache.

That wasn’t a thought she liked to have. Why did there have to be a time where she can’t have him? She was his and he was hers and she wasn’t liking that idea at all. “No- no, I always want you. Can always have you, always.” She babbled, pressing herself against him. “Give it to me, give it to me, please.” A little sob left her mouth as she cried out in frustration.

The fingers weren’t enough. She needed the closeness, the fill that only he could give her. She wasn’t usually demanding but this was driving her absolutely mad.

“God, you’re such a whiny fucking brat.” He sighed out, taking his fingers from her cunt and slapping over her cunt firmly. Harry loved getting her to this point. He had usually given in, not wanting to push her too far in the past, but now that he knew she liked it? He wasn’t going to deny himself the answers to his curiosity. “Keep these legs spread. I’m going to give it to you, and you better not fucking complain. You get me?”

“Yes, sir. Please.” Bunny nodded, feeling out of breath with all the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She had been right about her love of pain, hell, she hadn’t expected it to be this good. The sting was enough to have her hissing.

“Never seen you this desperate for my cock.” Harry chuckled, using his hand to grip her jaw. He was feeling himself start to let go, the dominance inside of him had grown comfortable with her. “You’d say anything for me to stuff you full right now.” He used his fingers to tap her face, as if to brace her for the slap that followed.

Bunny took a sharp breath, body going limp in submission. She herself hadn’t expected it to work so well.

“Give me your eyes.” He waited before removing his hand from her jaw. “Color?”

“Green! Please, sir— ah” Bunny felt his cock brush against her cunt. She had been in such a haze she hadn’t realized he stripped the rest of his lower half, leaving him in a shirt she was sick of seeing. Harry had managed to push them farther back up the bed, pulling her thighs up and over his shoulders.

“Y’want it deep? Fine” Harry didn’t hesitate to push himself past her puffy, slick folds and into the dripping cunt he’d been teasing for what felt like hours. “Fuck…” Harry breathed as he filled her in, grinding against her so she didn’t miss an inch.

“Good girl, take it… you want it deeper?” His voice grew darker, pushing himself even deeper just to hear her gasp for him again.

“Please, please, please, please…” the word fell from her mouth like a prayer as she tried to catch her breath. It was overwhelming. His cock was stretching her open despite the preparation, her eyes watering as he got her to a point she hadn’t been before. This level of need, the want to please him was lighting her nerves on fire.

“Please? You’ve got some good manners when you get what you want.” His voice was fuzzy in her brain for a moment before she felt his fingers dig into her legs. All she could focus on was the feeling of him. He was all over her, inside of her, his hands on her, his taste in her mouth, all she could think about was Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry. Her Harry.

“God… y’look so pretty like this, baby.” He whispered, dragging his fingers over her heated skin. Her legs erupted in goosebumps, not unnoticed by the man who felt satisfaction flood his body. He was the only one capable of getting her to this point. Sopping wet, begging, teary eyed and desperate to do anything for him. “This is what y’were made for. Made to please me, to be a hole for my cock. And you fuckin’ love it, don’t you?” He cooed, sweat beading on his brow as he gave a shallow thrust. “You love being mine.”

“Yours, yours, I’m yours, I love it.” Bunny cried out, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent the tear from falling but that didn’t seem to make a difference. A hot tear rolled down her cheek, her body buzzing with pleasure.

Her vision was blurry from the pleasure, the sound of her breathing grew louder as she slapping of skin led her closer to her peak. Her thighs tingled, stomach clenching as she took in the sight of his sweaty form. His muscles were tense, accenting all the ink on his body. He looked more relaxed despite his aggressive thrusts. He was finally giving her what she needed.

“Does it feel good princess?” He leaned down to kiss her cheeks, “Want me to keep working you into this mattress? You’re doing such a good job.” He breathed between kisses. “I can feel how close you are… you can let go baby, know you’re going to cum over and over again.”

The look on his face was so lustful, so intense. He was owning her. Bunny felt her cunt twitch around him. He was right, he’d keep going and going while she squirmed around in ecstasy.

She had been teased all day long. It wasn’t a shock to her that she would be close quickly, but this level of swiftness had her gasping. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Harry knew exactly what strings to pluck, what places to touch, what words to say. He was her ultimate dream.

He was hitting her perfectly. The slam of his hips into hers, holding her down, keeping her close to him, stroking her just right to make her body shake slightly with each thrust. She couldn’t get enough. The heat rose through her body as each fuck into her had her slipping onto the crest, head flooding her stomach.

A sob left her throat as she thrashed under him, his hands keeping her still as the last band snapped. Cumming all over him, she made noises she hadn’t ever before as her cunt pulsed around him, slick and hot while he fucked her through it.

“Yes, yes… that’s my fucking girl.” He snarled, smile feral as he watched her body tremble underneath his as she came for him. “Cum all over my cock. You’re perfect.” His praises washed over her, dropping her legs and moving to hover over her properly as he kissed her. He wasn’t going to give it up, keeping himself buried in her in short thrusts as he relished in the feeling of her hole clenching up around him, but he was giving her a reprise. “I know. I know, baby.” He cooed. “Feels so good to be fucked the way you’ve needed. Needed me all this time, didn't you?”

“Mmmmm” Bunny breathed out a heavy whine, at a loss for words with how alive she felt. The orgasm was still settling in. Her body was left pliable, completely at his mercy, though she was feeling more confident than ever before. Her nails were digging deeper against the skin of his back, dragging his body into her. “So long, I’ve wanted you like this.”

Her tone landed on Harry’s ears like honey, he could hear how turned on she was though she was so relaxed into it. He knew she would soon slip into sub space if she hadn’t already. He could feel her hands moving over his back, how she melted further into the sheets when she saw his smile.

“Use me up, want to be covered in you.” Y/N was willing to push some limits, Harry would know what she was ready for. “It’s even better than I imagined—“ Y/N’s eyes rolled back at the extra roll of his hips that he managed to sneak in. “I want to cum for you again.”

“Covered in me?” He crooned. “Filthy girl. You’ve already covered me with your cunt. Creamin’ all over my cock. Made such a fucking mess.” He could see it when he looked between them. The mess she had made from her pleasure, how wet she was solely for him. He hadn’t seen anything more satisfying in his life. This pretty girl, all his.

“You will cum for me again, baby. Again and again and again…” his lips brushed her ear, shallow thrusts making her stomach jump. “Because you’re mine, aren’t you? My sweet little toy.” He pressed wet kisses against her jaw, sliding a hand behind her neck to arch her up and closer to him. “All mine. My mouth to kiss, my body to touch, my cunt to fuck. I own you.” Pulling his hips back, he thrust into her hard, stealing her breath. “You belong t’me. My girl. Gonna keep making you cum around my cock until you’re sleepy, barely able to take anymore. And you’ll take it because you’re my perfect little slut. Can’t believe how filthy you’ve shown me you are.”

Bunny’s back was arching up off of the mattress as the pleasure moved up her body, she was lost in the difference she felt post orgasm. With her body still sensitive, each lull of his hips made brought her higher and higher. Her moans were full of surprise, each feeling overwhelming in the best possible way.

Harry knew just how to guide his hips in the right spots, controlled and calculated. Reading her body was easy, he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for it to be this easy. He was lost in her, his hips picking up their pace as her breathing started to pick up again.

“Know it’s a lot, yeah? You like it don’t you?” Harry needed the confirmation, he could see her eyes starting to glaze over. “Getting drunk on my cock, my sweet little slut? It’s okay, get spacey if you need to, I got you.” Harry was itching to get her to another orgasm, desperate to hear her screams for him.

Her vision was blurry as she let him wreck her. Harry was absolutely correct. He was getting her drunk on him, making her mind fizzle out and all she could begin to focus on was how good she felt. Her body was buzzing, like her nerve endings were on fire. His fingers had dipped between them to stroke over her clit, making her heavy breathing quicken.

It was so easy for her body to give into him. Part of her felt sensitive, almost overstimulated, but she loved the feel of his hands on her. “Y-yeah…” she whispered breathily. “So good. I’m hot.” Her words were slurred slightly as she let her eyes roll back, the beginnings of her second orgasm rolling over her. It felt like a chain reaction. The constant stimulation, the fullness, how safe she felt with him, all of it made her body open to his needs.

“There we go… absolutely stunning.” He grinned, watching as her mouth fell open. “Almost there. I can feel it. You’re gonna give me another one so quickly, perfect body was made to be fucked.” He nuzzled his face into her, biting down on the skin to make it sting.

That snapped the band again, a sob leaving her mouth as she dug her nails into his back. Cumming hot all over his prick, she shook under him and let out a pathetic whimper as he fucked her through it. Her mind was mush, heart beating out of her chest as the second orgasm crested. She could feel it, how wet she was making him, how she was soaking his cock, his deep groan as he felt her contract around him. She hadn’t had two in a row that felt this intense. “Oh my god.” She laughed, eyes rolling back as he pressed up against her as he kept her full while she came.

“There she is. Y’good?” He stroked sweaty hair from her face, moving it from her mouth. The check in was for both of their good. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer. “Color?” It was their first time truly playing and he needed that reassurance.

“Green. Green. M’so green, Daddy.” She mewled, eyes peeling open to look at him. His beautiful face, flushed and glistening with sweat as a tendril of hair curled over his forehead. His jaw was tight as he slowly ground into her, keeping it light as she recovered. “Do what you want with me.”

Harry took that green light and went with it.

Pulling up, he placed her legs up and gripped her thighs in his hands as he looked down at where they were connected. “You’re such a messy slut.” He groaned, pursing his lips and spitting right onto her cunt. “Rub it in. Go on.” There was a carnal lust, a primal urge to get messy and slick and have his scent on her and his cum inside of her. He was possessed, needing to get one more out of her. Her hand stroked over her clit, moving the mess of slick over her as he thrust in deep and slow. It was a warm up for the final.

“That’s good, enough.” He whispered, squeezing her thigh as he sped up a little bit. Y/N didn’t want to stop, though. As much as her clit felt a bit sensitive, the slight pain felt good. There would be a deep rooted ache in her core tomorrow, she would remember exactly what happened with every move she made- and she loved it.

“I said that’s good.” His voice grit out, looking down at her in warning as he watched her fingers circle her clit. The sight was too good. Watching her breasts bounce and her skin ripple as he thrust, her glazed eyes and swollen, messy lips? It was porn to him. Seeing her fingers touch herself was too much. She didn’t stop, though. Looking into his eyes, she smiled and continued the motions. Her face was smug, and Harry didn’t like that.

She continued her disobedience as she felt the pleasure coming back, his cock stroking deep and making her feel that fulness she had always wanted. It was a thrill to disobey for once, wanting to see what he would do. His jaw was tight as he glared down at her, giving her one more chance to pull her hand away- but she simply shook her head. It felt too good, his cock paired with her stimulation and then she felt it.

Slap.

It happened so quickly. Her head moved to the side, a sting in her cheek. His hands dropping from her thighs and striking her face, not hard enough to make her ache, but enough to definitely feel it. His hand gathered her hand, pinning it to the bed as he snarled down at her. “What did I fucking say?”

A thrill went down her spine as she stared wide eyed up at him, her skin still stinging from the slap as he glared down at her with a look in his eyes he hadn’t shown her yet. “Are you that fucking cock dumb that you can’t listen to directions?” His thrusts sped up, looking down at the wide eyed girl underneath him. Her body jostled, a weak moan escaping her swollen mouth. “Huh? Didn’t tell you to keep touching that filthy cunt. Thought you were a good girl.” He spit, shaking his head. “Now look at you. Gushing all over my cock because I smacked you. I’ll do it again.” He warned, getting closer to her face. “I’ll make you fucking listen to me, brat. Knew you couldn’t be a good girl.”

Y/N let out a wet gasp, shaking her head as her brain started to swim. The shift in position had him right where she needed him. Her body was disgustingly hot, sweat dripping down her face as he got her closer and closer. It was pathetic, she knew. She was out of her mind, but the feeling that the hit had given her had gone right to her blood. Fueled her in a different way than sex had before. “Sorry, m’sorry, m’sorry, Daddy.” She whimpered out, trying to free her hand but to no avail.

“Yeah? You’re fuckin’ sorry?” He mocked in her whimpery voice. “Too fucking bad. Showing what a whore y’are. Cock’s too good for you, innit?” His grin was wide as he watched her nod. “Yeah, s’too good for a dumb little cunt like yours… Too fuckin’ bad it’s the only one I want.” He could see it, physically see it on her face how much she liked that combination. The degrading, the reminder that she was the only one he wanted. It was the beginning to her end.

“M’gonna, m’gonna cum.” She cried out, looking slightly panicked. “Please let me, I’ll be so good. I can’t-” She gasped as he gripped her face with his free hand, roughly holding her chin as he fucked into her without that control he used to have. He was fucking her the way he wanted to- and it was so good, it hurts.

“Hold it.” He grit, feeling his own coming on. He had never wanted to cum so badly in his entire life. This was the best sex he had thusfar, feeling his sweet Bunny clenching around his cock, sopping wet and enjoying his rough treatment. When she began to squirm, he repeated the slap, this time a bit rougher. “Impatient slut. My own personal whore, like being hit in that pretty little face. Shouldn’t let you cum at all..”

It was too late, though. That had sent her over the edge. She had tried, really. She really didn’t want to disobey, but the hit, the words, the perfect strokes into her cunt? The girl crumbled. A silent scream leaving her mouth as she took him, hips bucking up and moving down as she tried to escape the punishing thrusts. “No more- ohmygod, I’m sorry, I can’t-” She clenched her eyes shut as she tried to push him off, but he didn’t budge. It was too good.

“Fuck- fuck!” The struggling, the cunt clenching frantically around his cock, he couldn't hold on anymore. A growl escaped his throat as his balls tightened, cum pouring into her. The hot load fucked into her, his face burying against her own as his hips stuttered. White hot pleasure washed over him, her free hand dragging her sharp nails down his back as he grunted with each thrust, getting it inside of her. “Every drop. Take it.” He hissed, panting. His nerves felt like they were on fire, dipped into flames as he felt her body shaking under him while he filled her up.

Y/N mewled, eyes rolling back as she fell limp underneath him. The heat of his cum somewhat soothing, body twtiching slightly as he got deep one more time before stopping. She could feel his cock pulsing, cum weakly being shot into her as he finished his orgasm- but now she was hazy. Her mind clouded, slipping down into a lax state while she laid back, feeling his lips press against her throat.

They laid in silence for a moment, Harry’s arms trembling slightly as he lifted up to look at her. “Baby?” His gruff voice had softened, no more steely tone to it as he watched her lay still with her eyes close. “Hey… sweetheart. Need you to open your eyes n’tell me if you’re alright. Check in.” He leaned down to kiss her lips chastely, watching her eyes peel open and take him in.

“Daddy?” She croaked, brinkley wetly up at him as her lip started to tremble. “Thank you. Need you. Please.” Her shaky voice made him coo, lifting a hand to push her hair out of the way and wipe the sweat off the best he could. “Was I good? I’m sorry. I didn’t listen.”

Harry had a feeling that would happen, but he was quick to reassure. “No, none of that. My perfect girl. Did so good for me. Came for me three times… Just perfect. M’so proud of you.” His voice was the most soft he had ever heard himself speak. Then again, he never had wanted to take care of someone like this before. Aftercare was important for all, but for this girl? He would do anything for her.

“Really?” She blinked up at him, hand reaching to him to place it on her cheek again. “I just want you happy. I want to make you proud. I feel so good.” She rolled nudged her face into his hand as his thumb swiped over the skin. She was definitely in some sort of subspace, had been slipping into it all day. Thankfully, Harry was somewhat prepared.

“You always do. M’so happy you shared yourself with me.” He replied, leaning over to grab a few tissues from the side table. When she began to fuss, he comforted her with a kiss to the forehead, returning to his spot. “Not going anywhere. Just want to clean up. I think we should do a bath in a few minutes. What do you think?” He nudged her to open her eyes that had drifted closed again. “Hm? Need those pretty eyes, baby.”

“Yeah.” she peeped. “So sticky.” The mix of cum and sweat, while erotic at the time, was uncomfortable to lay in. “Can we cuddle? Please?” There was a slight hesitance in her tone, as if he would say no to her about anything at all. As if he wouldn’t hand her the world in the palm of her hand if he could. She had no fucking idea how much she meant to him, how he would do anything he could for her. She was his angel, his temptation, his treasure.

“Always.” Lips pressed against her own, exhaling as he pulled back. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N. Anything at all. You’ve just got to ask.”

“Never leave me.” The reply was quiet, mumbled into the warm, sex stained air. “Keep me. I need you.”

His heart stuttered in his chest at the request. He wasn’t sure she would always want that- but for as long as she did?

“Promise. As long as you’ll have me, I’ll be yours.”

501 notes · View notes

asmosmainhoe · 5 months

Note

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful day! I love your headcanons sm! May I request sfw (asexual!) headcanons of the seven brothers with a MC struggling with an anxiety disorder, please! Tysm!

I struggle a lot with anxiety so some of the tricks and methods I mentioned in the headcanons are from my own personal experience

I suggest that you try them out, but I can't guarantee that they help you since everyone is different❤

Most of the time my body is telling me there is danger even though there IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING HAPPENING OWBSIABSJJA

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MC has anxiety (the brothers)

Gender: neutral

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks

Lucifer

Now, he has experienced anxiety to a rather small degree so he's unfamiliar with how much it can actually affect a person

Before you tell him about your struggles he might seem cold and not understanding, but he will do some research once you do open up

From that point on he will consider your anxiety for future tasks that get assigned to you. You don't have to feel like you have to push yourself or do anything that outside your boundaries

Of course the first born keeps an eye on you when he senses tension. The moment he notices that you're dangerously close to your breaking point he makes sure to signal you he's there to catch you

Depending on how bad it is he can and will pull you out of a situation immediately and everyone who asks stupid questions gets hit with a death glare

He won't leave your side until he's absolutely sure that you're doing good again

Mammon

He's the type to take things as they come so anxiety is a foreign concept to him, BUT only when it comes to first hand experience

We all know he's a caring older brother so he definitely helped some of the younger ones through a panic attack

Mammon also knows a trick or two to combat anxiety in general so he's right there to support you when it creeps up on you

The first thing he did when he found out that you suffer from anxiety was to get you a nice little notebook to carry around with you everywhere. He noticed on his brothers that it helps to write down your thoughts and feelings as they come. That way you're more focused on describing them and if you're stressing over a problem the solution will most likely come to you while you're writing

Over time his chill aura rubs off on you a little so that you feel calmer and safer just by his presence

Leviathan

Levi knows exactly how you feel and that can usually go two totally different ways

You two will either rile your anxiety up even more, because "stress + stress = more stress" or your bond comforts the both of you

It depends on the situation and the mood, but most of the time you guys are great support for each other. Sometimes when one of you is way more anxious the other finds an unknown strength that allows them get you guys through it

There is a silent mutual understanding between you and Levi and you don't have to use words to know what's going on. When it gets too much you're more than welcome to find comfort in his room even when he's not there. You find the huge aquarium calming

Levi has shown you a couple methods that work well for him and you started to use them a lot like counting to 10 in your mind and then start over again. It happens that you get so lost in it that you accidentally count to 100

Satan

That man has thoroughly researched that topic and has the means and knowledge to help you through anything

A lot of the methods he presented to you were so ridiculous that they confused you to a point where you totally forgot about your anxiety. So I guess they did work after all

Some of them do help a great deal and if the situation calls for it he can and will flip off anyone and simply swoop you away

A text is enough for him to show up at your place immediately, but behold! He brings backup!

We all know that cats are wonderful things with all the healing properties and abilities so Satan made it a habit to show up with at least an armful of them. He usually plops them and himself on you and let's their purring do the magic

Asmodeus

All that stress and anxiety is bad for your skin! He immediately gives you a lifetime supply of skin care products to keep you healthy looking

On especially bad days he drags you over to his room and runs a hot bath for you. If you need the company he won't leave your side, but you're more than welcome to use his tub by yourself

He tries to relax your muscles by massaging expensive oils onto your skin to get rid of all the tension while he whispers encouraging words into your ears

To combat your anxiety he comes up with a yoga plan completely adjusted to you depending how much experience you already have or how much you enjoy it. The plan comes with some unique breathing techniques that could help when you're in public and can't just whip out a yoga mat real quick

Beelzebub

He's actually wonderful with words and talks you through difficult situations with ease. You don't know if it's actually the positive things he's saying or his comforting and calming voice that gets you through it all

When you allow it he is going to embrace your entire body with a hug like a warm armor protecting you from all the bad things in this world. Beel does understand it though when you don't wanna be touched in the moment

I think it's obvious how he combats anxiety: food!

Three things in life are certain. Death, taxes and Beel ordering a whole buffet of your favorite dishes without a second thought

And if you feel like anything except eating then he will get you your favorite drink. If you feel too sick for food then he'll show up with hot chocolate or chamomile tea or whatever your heart desires

Belphegor

Unlike his twin he's very bad with words. The last time he tried to help you out that way he made your anxiety even worse

So he tried a different approach and bought you one of those extra heavy blankets with a matching stuffed toy. The toy is small enough to fit in a normal bag so you can carry it around everywhere. You're meant to look at it when Belphie isn't around to help you

His hugs are therapeutic and he actually fights his own sleepiness to stay awake for you so you don't feel like you have to go through all of this all by yourself

When you fall asleep next to him he makes sure to either visit you in your dream or just give you the most comforting dream possible. He can't have you get nightmares from all that anxiety. That's going to make your state even worse

---

Masterlist

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

Text

Just a Dog Walker

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x grad student!dog walker!fem!reader

Summary: As Tim's dog walker, and nothing more, you grow close to him and Kojo. After protecting Kojo from a dog fight, you learn how Tim really sees you.

Warnings: dog attack, dog bite (r), fluffy ending. (Kojo is totally fine!)

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: More Kojo, what the world really needs.

“Sergeant Bradford, come to my office for a minute?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers quickly. “Uh, sorry. No, sir, I can’t.”

Crossing his arms, Wade inquires, “Why not?”

A low huff is audible in Tim’s office, but Wade knows it isn’t him.

“Is yo’ dog under that desk?”

“No.”

“Let me amend the question. Is Kojo under the desk?”

Kojo barks happily, trying to push past Tim to visit Wade. Wade shakes his head, dropping his arms.

“Why is he here?”

“I’m working a double and I couldn’t leave him at home. What if he had run out of water or needed to go out?” Tim answers.

“You know, here in sunny Los Angeles, there are more people than I can count who are certified dog sitters.”

“Kojo doesn’t like strangers.”

“Just Kojo? Look, Tim, I get it, the bond between a man and his dog. But, there has to be a boundary, a separation somewhere. I’ll call Luna, she’s got friends with dogs and trusted, bonded employees who watch their dogs. Walk ‘em daily, train ‘em, do everything while you’re at work.”

“I can take care of my dog by myself.”

“Not while you’re at work, Bradford. He can stay for now, Lord knows he’s a better boy than you, but by the end of the week I want to know you’ve got someone to care for him.”

Tim grumbles, pushing his hands under the desk to pet Kojo. “I’ll take you up on Luna’s friends then.”

“She’ll call later.”

“You already asked her?”

“’Course I did. We have work to do. And, so you know, we can see Kojo’s paws under the desk. But nice try.”

“I tried, buddy,” Tim tells Kojo, passing him a treat from the container hidden in his desk drawer.

✯✯✯✯✯

Grad school is expensive, but since you don’t have the degree level you are striving for, you need a different job to get you through. Pushing 30 and being a dog walker isn’t ideal, but it’s paying the bills. One of your neighbors helped you open a business with proper insurance and licensing to care for the dogs of Los Angeles.

Most of your clients live nearby, and you do your rounds twice daily, studying and attending classes between. One of your favorite clients has a friend named Luna, who you love. She gets you jobs, helps you out constantly, and is like a mother figure to you. You are forever grateful for her. So, when she calls, you rush to answer.

“Hey, Luna!” you answer. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you doing? Still working on your dissertation; making progress?”

“Slow but steady, yeah. What can I do for you?”

“This is actually something I can do for you. There’s a sergeant that works with Wade; he’s got a dog and needs someone trusted to take care of his dog while he’s at work. He’s been sneaking Kojo into the station and Wade had to ask him to stop.”

“Kojo? That’s an adorable name. But, yeah, I’d be happy to meet him.”

“Awesome! His name’s Tim. I will send him your number and have Wade force him to set something up.”

“Is Tim a little rough around the edges, typical cop type?”

“Not typical, no… Just- you’ll see when you meet him. He’s great, though, deep down.”

“I’ll try to remember that. Thanks, Luna.”

“See you Friday?”

“See you Friday.”

You sit back, writing the name ‘Tim’ on your dog-walking calendar. Another client would be great for your wallet, but it seems like this sergeant will take some convincing before he hires you. This is understandable, of course, because you wouldn’t let just anyone take care of your babies, and dogs are just four-legged babies.

“Please be as great as Luna said,” you whisper before returning your attention to the research before you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Yeah, I texted her. We’re meeting at an outdoor café tonight,” Tim says before Wade can ask. “But if I don’t like her or if Kojo doesn’t like her, I’m going to keep looking.”

“Got it,” Wade answers. “But you’ve got more double shifts in your future, so don’t take too long trying to find a ‘perfect’ dog walker.”

Tim nods, hoping he can find a way out of letting a stranger into his house to take care of his dog. He checked your name, and your business seems legitimate, but there’s no way of knowing. Luckily, he and Kojo are both excellent judges of character.

✯✯✯✯✯

Luna sent you a picture of Kojo, and you spot him immediately. The man sitting beside him, though, is breathtakingly handsome. You’re shocked that he doesn’t have female neighbors and friends lining up at his door, offering to take care of Kojo (and him).

“Hi, Mr. Bradford?” you ask.

Kojo looks up at you and pants, his tail slapping against Tim’s leg.

“Yes. Nice to meet you,” Tim replies, offering his hand.

Shaking his hand, you glance down at Kojo. When Tim releases his grip, you squat and extend your hand for Kojo to sniff. He flips your hand up with his snout, stepping closer to you.

“I’m sure Luna told you that I’m a cop,” Tim continues, drawing your attention away from Kojo.

You sit beside him, lowering a hand to pat Kojo’s head. “She did, sir.”

“Then you know that if anything were to happen to my house during or after your visit, I could very easily charge you with any number of crimes. And I won’t tell you what I would do if something happened to Kojo while under your care.”

You can’t tell if his threat is legitimate, so you nod in understanding.

“Yes, sir, I understand. Kojo’s safety, and your home, of course, are of the utmost importance and I will do everything I can to do right by both of you.”

Tim nods, watching Kojo for a moment. “You’re good with him. He’s not always so welcoming with strangers; scared one of my girlfriends away once. So, I’m going to give you a chance.”

“Amazing. Thank you, sir. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“What do we need to do to get started?”

“I can offer you a few days free, as a trial run. And if you still want to keep me on afterward, we can discuss payment, sir.”

“That’s unnecessary. I need someone to take care of Kojo and you seem to be the best fit.”

“Okay. Then I will email you a link to create a client account and my website has a portal to pay. Luna mentioned that you work overnight sometimes, so if you needed me to do later or earlier visits, I can do that too, sir.”

“Sounds good.”

Tim stands, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering his hand again.

“Nice to meet you and I look forward to your email.”

“You, too. And thank you.”

Petting Kojo once more, you smile before walking away. You didn’t expect him to be so attractive, so you have to remember that he clarified you’re his dogwalker, and he doesn’t even really want a dogwalker.

Determined to make him see the benefits of someone caring for Kojo, you add him to your schedule before he even pays you. Money is no longer a concern; you’re already in love with Kojo, and now, you need to focus on not falling for his owner, too.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’d you think about her? I know you hired her, but what’d you think personally?” Luna asks, standing in Wade’s office.

Tim shrugs. “She’s very polite. Seems driven, hard-working, responsible.”

“Well, now that you’ve read her resumé, have anything else to add?”

Tim doesn’t answer, and Wade guesses, “She makes you nervous?”

“A little.”

“What?” Luna exclaims. “She’s the sweetest!”

“Not like that, Luna,” Wade interjects. “Someone wasn’t expecting a pretty dog walker.”

“Oh. Tim Bradford, I wasn’t sure you still had it in you.”

“She is taking care of Kojo. Yes, she is beautiful, but this won’t go any farther than a business agreement.”

“Care to bet on that?” Wade asks.

“No,” Tim answers before leaving and closing the door behind him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Kojo, Kojo,” you call, entering Tim’s house with the key he had made for you.

Kojo’s nails click on the flooring, rushing to greet you.

“Hey, buddy. You miss your dad? I bet you do.”

As you slide Kojo’s harness over his front legs, he licks your face, and you laugh, scratching his chest before standing to connect his leash. Kojo has quickly become your favorite dog. You visit several throughout the day, but Kojo is the sweetest and the most handsome.

When you return to Tim’s side door, it’s standing open. You know that you closed and locked it, so you pull Kojo’s leash tight, stepping back as you prepare to run.

“It’s just me!” Tim yells from inside. “Sorry, my hands were full, and I couldn’t close the door.”

Sighing in relief, you lead Kojo inside, closing the door behind you and locking it instinctually.

“Honey, we’re home!” you call.

Tim freezes in the kitchen at your teasing, borderline flirtatious tone. You remove Kojo’s leash and harness and put it away, following him as he runs toward Tim.

“Why are you home so early?” you ask.

“I worked all night,” Tim answers. “Thought you’d feel my absence through our connection.”

You chuckle at Tim’s flirting. After the second meeting, it became much easier to talk to him. Interestingly enough, Tim started the flirtatious tendencies. You tend to stick to business-related topics, but sometimes it feels like you’re just two friends – maybe more – and you forget you’re just his dog walker.

“Everything go okay at work, sir? Kojo, for one, had a great day.”

Tim says your name, a sigh more than anything. “I told you a week ago to stop calling me sir.”

“Sorry, sir- Tim.”

Tim looks away suddenly, turning his attention to the bags he carried inside while you were walking Kojo.

“Did you even wonder where Kojo was?” you ask.

“No. I know his dog walker is punctual… and a control freak.”

“Planning my day doesn’t make me a control freak!”

“You have it planned to the minute.”

“To accommodate you,” you grumble.

“Yet you won’t let me take you on a date.”

“You won’t ask.”

You fall silent, and when you think you took it too far, Kojo barks and makes you both laugh. Talking to Tim is easy, but no matter how much you love Kojo or think you could be more, you must keep everything in perspective. Tim is older, a police sergeant and you are his college student dog walker.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” you ask, answering your phone and rubbing your eyes as you look away from the computer screen.

“Hey,” Tim says. “I’m so sorry for the late notice but I’m going to be here overnight. Could you-“

“I’ll go over now.”

“Listen, it’s crazy out there right now. If you want to stay there, please do. I don’t want you out more than you have to be.”

“Tim, that’s not necessary.”

“Please. It’s not just for your safety; I’ll feel better knowing that you’re somewhere safe.”

“Okay,” you reply. “As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m insisting. Kojo is a cuddler, but that’s all you have to fear there.”

“Oh, you should have started with that. Kojo cuddles sound amazing.”

“Long day?”

“Not as long as yours. I’ll text you when I get there. Thank you, Tim.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“See you then.”

The drive to Tim’s house is short, but you hear several police sirens. Whatever they’re dealing with does seem (as Tim put it) crazy. Once you’re inside and the alarm is reset, you collapse on the couch and let Kojo cuddle up to you. You feel weirdly close to Tim, too, probably from being in his house. Falling asleep here is easy; you’re at peace, happy, and cuddled by a warm, loving dog.

✯✯✯✯✯

Waking up is not quite as peaceful. Tim is taking a picture, and when you grunt, he lowers the phone and smiles.

“That’s adorable,” he states.

“I’m quitting,” you murmur, throwing an arm over Kojo.

“You know, he didn’t even come see me when I got home? He’s a cheater, although I can’t blame him. It does look pretty comfortable.”

Ignoring him, you move closer to Kojo.

“Consider this my two hours’ notice.”

Tim chuckles, and the couch dips by your feet as he sits. When you sit up, he’s leaning back with his eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your way so you can rest. Need me to come back later?”

“No, I’m here all day. If you want to stay, you can.”

“I have a paper to finish,” you lament. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” You’re gathering your things when Tim reiterates, “Seriously. You’re always welcome here.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive safe.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s cloudy in Los Angeles, like a bad omen. You’re considering taking Tim’s offer of staying at his house to work. Kojo is the last dog you visit, and you look down at him as he sniffs the base of a streetlight.

“Mind if I stay with you for the rest of the day?” you ask him.

Kojo’s tail wags faster, but he’s still more interested in the light than you.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Kojo picks his head up, continuing toward the corner as you lead him down the sidewalk. You see something move up the road and command Kojo to stop. Unsure if it’s a dog or some other animal, you wait a moment before walking again.

With your attention on the unknown shadow before you, you fail to hear a dog running up behind you. Kojo turns suddenly, and you don’t register what’s happening as you push him out of the way.

Another dog, about Kojo’s size, with no leash or owner in sight, is on top of you. Kojo is barking, trying to help, but you yell at him to stay back.

“Kojo, sit!” you yell over the other dog’s growling.

Your yell turns to a cry of pain when the dog’s jaw clamps down on your arm, his claws digging into your side.

“Get off!” you yell, your adrenaline giving you the strength to push back.

Once you’re sitting up, you use your legs to free yourself from the dog’s grip. Kojo is behind you, unharmed, and you need to keep it that way. Flipping yourself on top of the dog, it releases your arm before moving its legs wildly, raking a paw across your face as it tries to move away.

“Go!” you yell harshly, moving enough to let it up.

Stomping your foot after it, you show the dog you’re in charge and wait in front of Kojo until it’s out of sight.

“Kojo, we have to go,” you say quickly, grabbing his leash and limping behind him as he leads you home.

Kojo focuses on getting you inside, and when you close the door and fall to the floor, he moves to your side. He whimpers, and you want to comfort him, but you are growing dizzy.

“You okay, boy?” you mumble.

You scream in pain when you raise your hand to check that Kojo is okay. After dropping your arm, your breathing grows shallow as tears stream down your face. Kojo whines again, and you want to reach for your phone, but your arms feel too heavy to move. Looking down, you suddenly realize the severity of what happened. Covered in blood and with no strength to call for help, you whisper an apology to Kojo and let your eyes drift close.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs as he turns onto his street. He’s ready to see Kojo and, if he’s lucky, you. When Tim sees your car in the driveway, he smiles and rushes toward the door. That happiness quickly disappears when he notices the trail of blood leading up the driveway. Walking to the sidewalk, he sees that it leads nearly to the corner. Racing to the backdoor, which has a large blood smear below a clear handprint, Tim keeps a hand on his gun as he unlocks the door.

Kojo’s whimpering greets Tim, and when he looks down, he sees that Kojo has blood on him. Kojo looks over quickly, and Tim follows his movement. Whatever fear he felt when he saw the blood on Kojo is multiplied when he sees you.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tim calls for an ambulance before kneeling beside you.

“Is Kojo okay?” you ask weakly.

“He’s okay,” Tim promises, leaning closer in a poor attempt to find the source of your blood. “What hurts?”

“What doesn’t? Did you check on Kojo? He seemed okay but I couldn’t make sure the blood was mine.”

Tim turns, running his hands all over Kojo. The blood is only on his fur, evidently not his.

“He’s fine,” Tim repeats, his voice breaking at the end. “You are not.”

“There was a dog free running and I- I didn’t see it. Kojo stayed behind me so I need him to be okay.”

Tears are running down your face again, mixing with the blood. Tim wants to wipe them away, but the clear claw mark over your cheek deters him.

“There’s an ambulance on the way, you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. Just stay awake.”

“Kojo- Kojo’s a good boy,” you mumble.

“He is. Can you please keep your eyes on me? The ambulance is almost here.”

You nod, and the last thing you remember is Tim’s apologetic look and a painful pressure on your side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim, are you coming with?” Bailey asks.

Tim is staring at the bloodstain on his floor and up his wall. “I’ll be there soon.”

“We’ll keep you updated. She’ll be okay.”

Tim nods and waits for the EMTs to exit the house before he begins cleaning. He scrubs until every trace of your blood is erased from inside and on the door. After animal control captured the dog, several officers went out to find the dog's owner. Nolan promised to come by and clean the driveway, so Tim concentrated his efforts inside.

“Alright, Kojo, our turn,” Tim calls, letting Kojo into the bathroom to remove the blood from his fur.

After Tim cleans Kojo and himself and throws away the blood-stained rags and cleaning supplies, he gathers his things to visit you in the hospital.

“I’ll be back with our girl,” Tim promises Kojo as he leaves.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m sorry.” You can’t stop the apology when Tim walks in.

“Stop apologizing. You kept that dog away from Kojo and I don’t- I can’t lose you. I walked in and you were covered in blood… I should have told you before that I care about you.”

“It’s my job to take care of Kojo,” you whisper.

Tim moves to the side of the bed, gently taking your hand. “You are not just a dog walker. I’ve been falling for you since the moment I laid eyes on you. The fact that you love Kojo solidified it for me.”

“I- I have feelings for you too,” you admit.

“They told me your pretty face won’t scar.”

“I barely even remember what happened.”

Tim sits beside your legs as he tells you, “Nolan and Celina arrested the dog’s owner. It wasn’t the first time he had done this.”

“Given a poor, unsuspecting college student thirty stitches while she’s just trying to spend the afternoon in her crush’s house? Oddly specific crime. What’s the code for that?”

Tim chuckles, gently squeezing your hand. “You can go home now. If you’re still up to spend some time in your crush’s house.”

“Tim-“

“Don’t tell me I don’t have to. I want to, need to.”

“I would love to spend time with you and Kojo. But I’m not sure I’m up for flirting today, handsome.”

“After the day you’ve had, just sit back and I’ll do all the flirting.”

“’Preciate that, sir.”

Tim laughs as he exits the room to complete your discharge paperwork. You smile behind him, hoping you’re not dreaming, and you finally told him how you feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Kojo,” Tim chides. “Give her some room.”

“You cleaned all the blood?”

Tim gently directs your eyes to him, leaning close to remind you, “You’re more than just a dog walker. Worth the time, the effort, the love, all of it.”

“Love?”

“Yeah. Kojo really loves you.”

You laugh, quickly remembering that you have several stitches on your side.

“Careful,” Tim requests.

“Are you certified to help someone sit still while stitches hold their side closed?” you ask.

“Depends on the patient. You? Absolutely.”

Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch before walking to the kitchen to gather some water and snacks. When he returns, Kojo is cuddled up to your uninjured side.

“Really? Again?” Tim asks.

“I love you,” you say, completely distracting Tim as he kneels before you. “But I also think I really want to quit this time.”

Tim laughs, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “That’s fine. I am looking for a girlfriend rather than a dog walker now anyway.”

“Care to see my resumé?”

“Memorized it last time.”

#tim bradford x reader #kojo bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader #tw dog attack #tw dog bite #kojo bradford. cutie pie extraordinaire.

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doraambrose · 3 months

Text

I see this alot in fanon and I think jason Todd's parents are completely misunderstood.

Disclaimer: I am not a victim of parents with drug abuse nor have a I ever done drugs. I sympathize and emphasize with people who struggle with drug abuse as there are many reasons to get into it and it's very hard on your body to get clean, I will link help organizations below. This does mean that I can be a little ignorant to the struggles so if I say anything offensive or wrong, please call me out and educate me so I don't make the same mistake

Jason's family has been retconned so many times, it's hard to keep it straight. But this is my headcannon based on what I've seen:

1. I feel like a lot of people write Willis Todd to be this awful abusive scumbag who hated his kid and his wife. If you are talking about young justice or arkhamverse, this canonically true, but I think that's far from the truth in the main universe, prime or whatever it's called. In batman 411, jason is clearly distraught by Willis' death and does try to avenge him by lashing out at Two face. We also can't forget about the incident with the penguin that led to the worst Bruce and jason characterization before gotham war. And that's because of one rhato issue where jason finally reads willis' letters (a truly heartbreaking issue: rhato rebirth 23)

I believe that Willis wasn't a bad dad. Not a good dad, but not an awful abusive one. I 100% believe he has never abused his family in this universe. And you know what, he wasn't a great person. He was a drug dealer and then a henchmen. But he CARED. He cared about his family. He tried so hard to provide for Catherine and Jason for their medical bills, food, shelter. He just had a poor upbringing and some real shit luck, trying to survive in poverty in Gotham city.

2. Catherine has been written in fanon to be a perfect caring mother who was nothing but a victim. I believe that she wasn't as good of a mother and a person as people make her out to be. And we haven't seen everything, but I believe this because she seems selfish. She seems to put herself and her drug addiction before her family, doesn't seem to even try to get clean or take care of jason or provide. Look at these panels:

She neglected Jason. He had to go out and put his life on the line day after day when it should've been the other way around. Jason was a kid. And don't get me wrong, she probably loved jason and had good intentions, no, she definitely loved him, or else jason wouldn't canonically think as highly of her and take care of her the way he did, but she wasn't perfect and I don't think she was as good of a mother as she's made out to be.

3. Canonically, jason seems to really care for Catherine, but not Willis. I have a theory about that. For why he thinks so highly of catherine: I've never had a parent who suffered from drug abuse, but I do have a parent who suffered from a lot of mental health issues like depression, diagnosed, and I feel like bpd, though it was never diagnosed. When things were bad, they were BAD. I witnessed a lot. But when things were good, things were REALLY GOOD. I feel like when Catherine would come off the drug haze, things were like that. She probably took care of him during those times and was loving and all that. Catherine is the one parent figure Jason has to hold onto (because of all the shit with Bruce, Sheila, etc.). He forcibly removes the bad shit she's done and hangs onto the good things she's done because she really did care about him and in life, it seems harder to hate your mom than your dad (from what i have heard when i did research on this from friends). I've done that for years, and idk if I'm explaining it right, but I think that's the best way I can. For why he doesn't love willis: I think up until he read the notes, he didn't have the full picture. From his perspective, willis leaves to do crime and then eventually gets caught and left forever. I think he blamed willis for making jason become "the man of the house" and have all this extra responsibility. Willis also strikes me as the type of parent who has trouble expressing feelings, so jason probably rarely, if ever, heard "I love you" from his dad. Willis also strikes me as the person who would believe that he needs to make his son stronger in order to survive, and there are a lot of parents like that, especially parents from a low income household or a history of poverty.

In conclusion, both parents were FAR from perfect parents, but they're not as evil or as innocent as people write them in fanon. They're just...people. fanon likes to write comic people as black or white, innocent or abusive, but in reality, It's a gray area. Willis had his flaws, I hc him as one of those old fashioned kind of dads who wants his son to be tough and strong and isn't good with sharing his feelings, but does truly care about his family and NEVER was abusive. Catherine was a mother who definitely cared about her family, but wasn't an innocent victim and had her own flaws.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

#jason todd #red hood #batfam #dc universe #dc comics #rhato rebirth #rhato #catherine todd #willis todd #batman #two face #dc penguin

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kitchenisking · 2 months

Text

February Fic Rec

Hey Guys, I'm sorry I'm so late this month that its already the next month😅 I went back to work this month and I have mixed feelings about it so there's that🫤 but at least there's faction - please don't tell my kindle, there's so many books on there that I got to read😓. anyway, happy readying everyone! enjoy the spring and remember to kudos and comment😘

Show Him The Love by scarlettletterr - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,911, sterek)

Everyone realizes Stiles is awesome, and actually gives him the recognition he deserves! For all his research, for his constant loyalty, for having awful stuff happen to him and always coming back for more, for trying to do the right thing even when people don't listen when they should.

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My gift for Meggplant, for the Glompfest. Hope you like it!

You feel like Home by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 24,300, sterek)

Five times Stiles gets abused by his boyfriend and and the one time everything falls into place, like it was always meant to be.

Maybe it was.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Are you really just leaving?" Stiles asked him.

"Yeah? There's no point in me sticking around, we already did what we always do." His boyfriend said, fastening his belt and walking out of Stiles' room.

It Starts When You're Around by strobelighted - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 26,406, sterek)

"Earth to Derek. You okay, man?"

Derek's eyes are drawn back to the guy in front of him, who's starting to look more worried now.

"I --" he starts, then swallows against the dryness. "Who are you?"

or, Derek gets amnesia

eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj - (Rating: T, Words: 1,195, sterek)

"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.”

The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?”

“Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.”

“Well, he just got home, so—”

Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture.

[or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other] -- prompt | a reunion kiss

Hide by dr_girlfriend - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,419, sterek)

Stiles has been rejected so many times that it doesn't really surprise him when it happens again. Hurts, yeah, because dammit — he'd thought Derek was the one. Heartbreak sucks, and he's not so sure he's going to get over it this time.

Breaking A Rule by SinQueen69 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,426, sterek)

Anon on tumblr wanted: Hiya! Please with sugar on top write a Sterek fic where derek is a business man and Stiles is a horny cockslut that sends Derek nudes while at work and Derek is pent up and punishes him when he gets home. Daddy Kink, Manhandling, Strength Kink, Bruises, Spanking, Rough Sex, Orgasm Denial, mentions of kittenplay?, verbal humiliation, gags! Tanks be safe and healthy

Soft Space by TuppingLiberty - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,492,k sterek)

This time of year, Derek has to face too many bad anniversaries - the fire, the deaths. Stiles understands when Derek has to take a break from being alpha, when he just needs his daddy.

Rated M for kink, but no explicit (or even mature) sex.

Kinktober day 4: Daddy (Starting Kinktober now so I can maybe finish in October this year)

How to Win an Argument Without Really Trying by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,288, sterek)

It started with a kiss.

Well, actually, it started with an argument.

no river, no rush by CoraRochester, ravenclawkward - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,351, sterek)

“You can’t marry me! I’m the worst choice. For one, there’s no strategic value to marrying a prince from Gajos—and if there were, I’d have been betrothed to you or Cora years ago. We have nothing to offer Beacon. I’m not even good at being a prince!” …

On the eve of Derek’s coronation, he proposes to Stiles.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me? by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,893, sterek)

Derek has liked Stiles for a really long time, like embarrassingly long. But he swore to himself that he wouldn't make a move on Stiles until he knew for sure that his feeling were returned because he refuses to force something onto the Spark.

Derek likes Stiles, Stiles likes Derek, but the Alpha is convinced that Stiles is still in love with Lydia and can't see the obvious dofus Stiles is being around him. Lydia intervenes just because she's sick of watching the two dummys not be together.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs #ficrec #fanfic

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celestiababie · 11 months

Note

svt reaction to accidentally overstimulating you until you squirt

love ur stuff btw!

A/N: I'm going to assume that you meant this for svt since I pretty much only write for them at this point. If not, please send another specifying who it was for and I'll redo it. I didn't really edit this, so I'm sorry if it's shit. ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoy it!!! Feedback is appreciated!

Seungcheol: He'd instantly want to make you squirt again, but you'd make sure you had a breather before how tries again. Lowkey becomes obsessed with pushing you to your limits.

"Fuck Y/n, you're making such a mess for me, baby."

Jeonghan: Honestly, it would surprise him more than he'd care to admit. He was just focused on finger fucking you and didn't think he was doing anything extraordinary, but similar to Seungcheol...he'd want to see if you could do it again. Might become a menace in the process.

"You can do it again, right, angel? C'mon, give it to me." Ugh I can see the smirk on his face already.

Joshua: He'd honestly take a moment to process what just happened but would be so sweet if you got embarrassed because of what happened. He'd ask if it was too much and offer to change the sheets for you while you take a bath. But don't be fooled by his sweet response because he'd definitely bring it up again in innuendos and tease you for it in the future.

Jun: He isn't quite sure how it happened, but he seems like the kind of guy that would be into it already? But he just wouldn't mention it to you or try anything in particular to get you to squirt. But now that he knows it's possible...he'd ask to see if he can make you do it again.

Soonyoung: Gets really giddy over what just happened. So much so that he doesn't fully realize how spent you are and once he calms down a bit, he'd be rushing to give you the best aftercare in the entire world. Would be cuddling you and then all of a sudden ask you questions about it.

"Did you feel good?"

"It felt good, right?"

"We can do it again if you want."

Wonwoo: This man already researched and has the knowledge stored away in his brain somewhere. But, he would never intentionally try, he was just so lost in the look on your face and how much you were moaning that he wouldn't realize he was subconsciously doing those things he read about. If you were confused or embarrassed, he'd give you a brief (unnecessary) explanation as to why that happened. He'd be really into it and want to see if all the other methods he read about worked just as well.

Jihoon: Will write a song about wanting to drown in your love with the most innuendos you've ever seen. I'm kidding, mostly. No but in all seriousness, it would trigger a cockiness in him that would be so fucking attractive. Ugh whenever he felt like getting an ego boost from now on he'd just roll up his sleeves and finger fuck you until you're screaming his name and drenching his fingers.

Dokyeom: I see him as someone who's normally sweet and very intimate during bed so he would be so entranced in the feeling that he wouldn't realize he was overstimulating you until he felt an unfamiliar pressure around his cock that would force him to pull out and thus causing you to squirt. Man would be silent, wide eyed in SHOCK, but still so turned on and desperate to cum for you that he'd ask if you wanted to keep going.

Mingyu: He's very eager to please and often gets lost in the undeniably incredible feeling of making his favorite person feel good so I'm not surprised he overstimulates you fairly often. But when he makes you squirt for the first time, it would trigger the curious experimentalist in him. After you fall asleep (after much needed aftercare) he would be on his phone all night to look up more ways to make you squirt and tell you all about his findings in the morning with the most excited look on his face.

Minghao: I think he's very in tune with his body as well as his lover's body so I find it surprising if he accidentally overstimulated you...he's too aware for that...but he would caress your body after making you squirt, trying to calm your body and bring you back down to earth with him. He'd give you all the time you needed to stop shaking from the aftershocks of pleasure, whispering loving and soothing words throughout the entire time. I feel like he'd really be into observing what his partner looks like when they cum and after they cum.

Seungkwan: Tries to be nonchalant and act like what just happened didn't boost his ego massively but you could see him literally grinning to himself as he cleaned the sheets. Will definitely want to make you do it again another time but is slightly nervous he just got very lucky and won't be able to move his fingers the same way.

Vernon: "Oh wow." That's it. Kidding (not really) This man would be so frozen just staring at the mess while you tried to calm down. You'd finally noticed him staring and if you started apologizing it would immediately break him out of whatever spell he was under and he'd reassure you that he found it hot...like really hot. Kind of a new fetish for him.

Chan: Becomes an annoying menace who thinks he's a sex god, but it's okay because he's really hot when he's confident and feeling himself. Would tease you for it in the future and probably bring it up when you're being intimate.

"Wait, should we lay down a towel? You made such a mess last time, babe."

A fairly reasonable question, but the smirk he'd have on his face would reveal his true intentions.

#asks #svt asks #svt #seventeen #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt reactions #seventeen reaction #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #🌌:celestialworks

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machiroads · 2 months

Text

Don't look, i'm about to overthink this panel

Long post under the cut.

Notwithstanding that I can't figure out what's going on with Aizawa's legs here because he's twisted around or something—it's a good panel. Look at them, they're adorable. 11/10 no notes.

Actually that's not true I have so many notes.

Will someone also please get this man a blanket for god's sake

I'm going to unpack the implications here from two perspectives: Aizawa telling Eri he got hit by a truck, and Eri trying (and failing) to save Aizawa.

Tis But A Flesh Wound

Aizawa tells Eri he got hit by a truck, and a common interpretation I've seen of this is that nobody told her what happened to him. I don't necessarily think this is true, because:

A) She rewound Mirio the day before the raid

B) She was watching the fight on TV with All Might.

Canonically, she is at least tangentially aware of what happened. Aizawa also knows that she's at least somewhat aware of what happened, vis-a-vis excerpt A.

I've also seen the interpretation that Aizawa is trying to obfuscate the truth about his injuries from her (presumably because the quirk-deleting bullets were created from her blood), but again, she was watching the fight on TV.

The most rational (hah) explanation is that he's just back on his bullshit, lying to children for his own amusement.

which is. hysterical.

Anyways, onto item 2!

The Deus Ex Machina

As we saw above, Eri rewound Mirio the day before the raid. I am not a scholar of the BNHA timeline, but I did do some research while I was writing Nine Lives. My understanding is as follows:

The Shie Hassaikai raid is sometime in September

The Jaku raid is at the end of March

Mirio corroborates these two points when he arrives at Jaku, noting that he's been out of the game for about 6 months

Post-Jaku is where the timeline gets weird.

Tartarus is breached the night of the raid on Jaku and Gunga

Midoriya is brought back to UA about a month after that

The Star & Stripe fight happens the day after that

The day after that, All Might reveals they have at least a week to prepare for the final battle. Aoyama is revealed to be the traitor on the same day.

In summary, the final battle happens somewhere in the ballpark of a month and a half to two months after Jaku / Gunga.

With the timeline sort of squared away, let's move on to the interpretation I've seen some readers make, which is that Eri didn't have enough energy to rewind Aizawa. The translation of Ectoplasm's dialogue has varied between the original leaks, the fan scanlation, and the official release, leading to some ambiguity of interpretation here, but there are a few different reasons that this doesn't make any sense:

Based on the timeline outlined above, where Eri successfully sends Mirio back 6 months on the day before the raid, it doesn't really make sense that 0 to 2 months later, she couldn't hypothetically rewind Aizawa by 0 to 2 months after he loses his leg and eye. Eri's power is wishy washy at best, but this seems like it's entirely within the realm of plausibility if Aizawa wanted to be rewound.

From a storytelling standpoint, what's the point of rewinding Aizawa to de-nerf him for the final battle if him and Monoma are ultimately removed from the fight via Sad Man's Parade anyway?

My interpretation is that this doesn't actually have anything to do with Eri trying and failing to rewind Aizawa, but rather she's trying to go rescue Midoriya and help him the same way that she did during the Shie Hassaikai raid.

The inference Ectoplasm is making is that it's too late for that, because she's at home watching the fight on TV rather than already being on the battlefield. This was also the case at Jaku, where she was canonically watching the fight on TV with All Might. She must have seen Aizawa go down and wanted to go save him, but it was already too late for her to try to help.

There's an entire separate essay worth of discussion on why Aizawa continues to live with one leg and one eye (both from a canon and a meta perspective), but I won't get into that here.

In conclusion:

This panel is fucking adorable

Aizawa continues to lie to children for fun and profit

Eri is baby and is physically perfectly capable of controlling her power at this juncture, she's just geographically removed from the action because she's like seven years old

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk

#BNHA #Aizawa Shouta #Eri #MHA Spoilers

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allysunny · 8 months

Note

Hello. Can I request a fic with Nanami and the reader? The reader has a toxic family and asks Nanami to be her fake boyfriend at the family meeting. If possible, it could be comforting.

Faking it for the Family | Nanami Kento x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings: Toxic family, mentions of weight (as in, berating and telling someone to watch what they eat), very rude comments from Reader's family, maybe some OOC Nanami? I don't know, you tell me! And please do warn if I forgot something :)

A/N: Aaaa my first Nanami request! I'm so excited about this! I love this man with my whole heart, he's my biggest anime crush of all time! Now, I do warn you, it's been a while since I've touched jjk (it was a traumatic experience, shibuya is my canon event), so if you think Nanami is OOC, then that might be why. But I can also see him being vocal when it comes to someone he cares about, protecting them and expressing his feelings - or at least trying to.

I hope I did your request justice! I'll be honest, I'm very fortunate to come from a very healthy and loving family, and don't quite know the dynamics a toxic one would have. Nevertheless, I did some research, and I hope you're happy with the final result! I also stayed up until like, 2am because I wanted to post this one before I went on a small vacation and stopped writing for a few days! Totally worth it!

“Your what?”

“My boyfriend.” You repeated firmly.

Scratch that, you were scared shitless.

A few days ago, your mother had called you, asking (more like demanding you) to come see her. According to her, only “bad, ungrateful children” abandoned their parents. According to her, you were turning into a “bad, ungrateful child”.

“You don’t call, you don’t visit. It’s like we never did anything for you, is that how you treat the people who brought you up?” She nearly cried into the phone. Victim-blaming was along your mother’s strongest talents, it always had been.

She’d also reminded you that it would be a shame if you showed up single. She gushed about your cousins, how lovely their wives and husbands were, and how you clearly weren’t working hard enough to find a man.

“It’s not like you have much to offer, dear. The least you could do is prove yourself to be useful, make sure you find a nice man and snatch him up. Perhaps if you learned how to cook properly instead of pursuing that silly passion for books… And you need to start putting some effort into your appearance! No man wants a dishevelled woman – look at how well your cousins are doing!” Then, dismissing her whole behaviour, she’d go, “You know I’m only saying this because I care about you, right? It’s for your own good.”

It made you shudder just from thinking of it.

You’d nearly glared a hole into your phone that night, considering cancelling.

You ran all options through your head.

If you pretended you were sick, your mother would just assume you couldn’t take care of yourself and visit you to do that herself.

Hard pass.

If you said you had plans, your father would tell you to prioritize the family who had sacrificed so much to give you a good life, and to stop being so selfish.

Hell no.

No option seemed good enough.

In the end, your parents would always find a way to make you feel inferior and blame you for not being able to attend. You wouldn’t hear the end of it for at least a few months.

That’s not something you wanted for yourself.

You considered your mother’s words.

Going alone seemed like a nightmare alright. But perhaps if you found someone to attend with you…

There was no significant other in your life (the nail in your coffin, just another reason for your parents to berate you, and you it’s not like you could fall in love with someone in a span of 4 days just to introduce them to the family.

And then, an e-mail from a coworker gave you a brilliant idea.

Nanami Kento was one of your coworkers.

You weren’t the closest offriends, but still – friends.

You two went out for drinks after work every so often, sometimes ordering a box of pizza to share while working overtime at the office. God knew how much you hated it, being forced to work longer than expected, but Nanami shared the same sentiment, and it made work more bearable for you.

You didn’t talk much outside of work – Nanami was a private, reserved man, and you never did have the courage to seek him out. So you settled for a few jokes at the office here and there, the occasional smile, and bringing him bread and pastries sometimes. Nanami was quite the foodie. Outside office hours, maybe a “Have a nice weekend”, or if you were feeling brave enough, a meme – it took him a while to get them, but it was amusing to get his reaction through text.

He was smart, kind to a fault, and handsome. Very much so. You knew he was single, and to be fair, you had no idea why. With those lovely, warm chocolate brown eyes and golden hair, he could get any woman he wanted. And God, his physique… You had once tripped and held onto his arm – the man was made of rock. He was a total catch, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about your little overtime endeavours to end up with a goodnight kiss, or perhaps something more. In fact, you’d developed a little crush on him, sneaking away during lunch breaks to try and talk to him, catch up, or just know how he’s doing.

That’s why he was perfect.

Your parents would be appeased, and the family gathering would be much more bearable.

“It’ll just be for a night,” You continued, trying not to sound very desperate. You weren’t sure where you stood with him – were you two close enough to ask such a favour? “We don’t have to do anything physical – just maybe hold hands so they can get off my back. I’ll be forever in your debt, please. I need your help.”

Nanami looked at you curiously. You could see his eyes clearly – Nanami had foregone his glasses during lunch break. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was reconsidering his whole friendship / acquaintanceship. Maybe he was simply coming up with a way of politely declining. Nanami had always been to kind to trifle with you or mock you, God, you’re so stupid, why would he go out of his way to help someone he’s not that close with? It was idiotic to ask.

“Never mind that.” You mumbled, quickly shaking your hand, and dismissing the idea. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a weird request and we don’t know each other that well, and – “

“Sure.”

Your eyes must’ve turned as wide as saucers. Sure?

“If it would help you out and ease your mind, I don’t mind it at all.” He replies, the soft lull of his hypnotising voice making your heart skip just a bit. “I do know what it feels like to be surrounded by people you’re not fond of.”

You suppose he’s right. Every year when the company dinner takes place, you find yourself sitting in a corner, hidden from everyone else. It’s the one time of year where you two can actually talk and consider each other more than simply two coworkers. Maybe even relatively good friends.

You beam at him, bowing profusely. There were no words to describe what you felt – this man was willing to be your fake boyfriend for a whole evening?

“Thank you so much! This means so much to me, you can’t even imagine it!”

Nanami simply nods.

“Shall I pick you up at seven?”

Most often, people stared at themselves in the mirror to check their appearance, try on clothes, maybe give them an ego boost. You? You were practicing facial features.

A hard smile for when your mother told you to “Eat less – you’re gaining weight.”

A polite nod for when one father eventually said “You need to give up those silly hobbies of yours – become a real woman, a good wife.”

A dry chuckle for when one of your many cousins gushed about the wonders of marriage, and how amazing it is they got married so young, to fully explore all romantic bliss and life alongside your soulmate – or something. You never made it twenty seconds without appearing bored of your mind and making your way to an empty chair away from others.

You just hoped they’d leave you alone for tonight, or at least stop with the comments. You wouldn’t be able to handle being humiliated in front of Nanami, of all people.

Speaking of, it’s nearly seven, so you grab your purse and make your way downstairs. Your outfit is nothing bland, just like how your parents would like it. A simply yellow jumper and denim jeans – God forbid you wore a skirt too short, or a shirt too flashy in front of your family. You’d be sure to burn at the stake for that one. This outfit was simple and modest and was sure to keep them quiet for a few minutes.

A little ring from your phone broke your line of thinking.

From: Nanami Kento

I’m outside.

You quickly spotted him in his car, and your jaw hung.

He swiftly exited the vehicle, walking towards the passenger’s side and opening the door wide for you.

You don’t know what to say.

So, he does it for you.

“Good evening.” He’s looking extra dashing, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugs his figure ever-so-perfectly, and slacks. His hair is parted as usual, but it seems much more casual, less uptight, less professional. He’s once more refused to wear his glasses, so you can see his beautiful face up close.

His strong jawline, the strong planes of his face, the thin eyebrows that never did much to conceal his eyes – he looked straight out of a fairytale. The fact that he looked so relaxed, out of his business attire and clad in casual clothes, made this vision much more alluring.

“Hey,” You answered, giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this; I could open the door by myself.”

“Nonsense.” Nanami shook his head, gesturing to the inside of the car. “Shall we go?”

As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, he left the driveway. You’d sent him the coordinates before, so there was no getting lost as long as you followed the GPS.

There was a small awkward silence between the both of you – it was only normal. You and Nanami didn’t hang out that much after office hours, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you would have no topics to discuss.

“So…” You started wearily. Might as well warn him about your family. There was no way you were letting this man meet them without being prepared. “I should warn you in advance – my family is…. Well, they’re not conventional.”

“Hm? How so?” He questioned you, quirking an eyebrow yet never taking his eyes off the road.

“They… They might make some rude comments. Or say things that make you uncomfortable. I know I told you about it the other day when I asked for this favour, but I just want to reiterate it. They’re… Well, they’re hard to deal with.” You finished. There was no other way to describe your family.

Growing up, they’d been all but supportive. Berating you left and right, making you believe you were as worthless as the trash on the street. Nothing you did ever amounted to anything. Your grades were never enough. Your passions were always overlooked – the books you read “filled your head with crazy fantasies”, the music you listened to “polluted your mind”.

If you left the house with no makeup on, your mother would assume you weren’t trying hard enough. Would say you looked sloppy and dirty, and that it was shameful to see you not even attempt to pull yourself together. And when you did leave the house looking pretty and proud of yourself, your parents would break down your confidence once more, assuring you that you’re clearly trying too hard, and that men don’t want woman who paint their faces as if they were clowns and dressed in skirts so short, they barely earned the name.

Your achievements didn’t matter. Not when your cousins earned scholarship after scholarship, brought home successful, handsome men or women, assuring the family they were well off and didn’t need to worry about much.

To your family, all it mattered was your image. To them, you were the black sheep of the family. No partner, no children, no high paying job, no success. Considering their mentality, how they still associated themselves with you was a puzzle.

Not even once did they stop to consider your feelings.

Moving out had been the best thing that happened to you.

Sure, it was hard at first.

You spent too long in front of the mirror, wondering if you looked good enough. While conversing with others, it was difficult to open up about your passions and hobbies, for fear of being shut down and dismissed.

But slowly, you’d regained control of your life. You went out when you wanted, with who you wanted. You wore the clothes you liked, without worrying about your parents’ hurtful remarks.

Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you saw a proud young woman, as opposed to the scared little girl you saw in your early years.

Which made returning to them ever so difficult. They managed to turn you back into that frightened little girl you once were, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing and making them look bad. They managed to destroy all of the confidence and self-love you’d built for yourself all these years.

“I’m sorry.”

It was Nanami’s voice that brought you back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. Clearly, a family that treats you that way does not deserve you.” He said, matter-of-factly. Like it was the easiest thing in the world, to admit the family that spent years breaking you simply wasn’t worth your time and thoughts.

“Yeah, well.” You mumbled, looking out of the window. What could you say? In theory, you knew he was right. He had to. Other friends who knew about your past told you as much. But it was a completely different story to put that into practice.

For the rest of the ride, a silence fell upon the both of you. None attempted to break it.

“Remember our story, right?” You questioned the man next to him. He stood right next to you, tall as a tower and just as unmoving. You could never guess what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

Nanami nodded silently, turning to you.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We can make up an excuse and leave, if you want to.” He said, and for a while, you considered it. It’d be nice to ditch on your family and spend some time with your coworker. But once again, you knew how this movie ended.

Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a weak smile.

“It’s okay. It’s just for one night.”

He nodded once again.

You took a deep breath and stepped forward, ringing the doorbell.

Almost immediately, the door opened, making way for a woman none other than your mother.

She looked so… so… perfect. Annoyingly so. It made your blood boil. It reminded you of how, in her eyes, you were most definitely not perfect.

Nanami glanced at the woman in front of you. She looked like a perfect copy of you. Or rather, you were a perfect copy of her. But there was a clear difference between the two: While she looked uptight, abnormally prim, and proper, way too polished, you looked, well, natural. This woman looked like her only job was to look good, while you were an effortless beauty. He can only imagine what kind of things a woman like this could’ve told you all your life to make you so nervous back in the car.

“Honey!” She chirps in a voice he can only describe as fake. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She pulls you win for a hug, mumbling and muttering about how long it had been since you’d last seen her, how unkind of you that was, how you had no consideration for your family. Ouch.

“Hi mom,” Was your hushed answer as you tried your best to hug her back. And then just as quickly, tried to get away from her bone-crushing embrace. “Y-You can let go now.”

And she did, staring right at Nanami.

“Oh.” She very obviously stared at him up and down. There was no subtlety to the way she ogled him, and you felt some strong second-hand embarrassment from her actions. “And who might this fine young man be? Did you finally step up and get yourself a nice man?”

You sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night.

Nanami stepped forward, placing a warm hand on the small of your back, a hand that slowly brought you closer to him.

“Good evening, Mrs.” He said politely, offering his hand for the woman to shake. She did so gladly, showing him a perfect smiled. A perfectly forced smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Mom, this is Nanami Kento. He’s… He’s my boyfriend!” The words felt nice in your mouth, natural. It’s like he was meant to be your boyfriend. Boyfriend. That’s nice.

“Boyfriend! Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman exclaimed, pulling him inside. “Come in, come in! Of course, you’d be late – We were all waiting for you!”

When you told Nanami your family was harsh, he was picturing something very different. Maybe some unwanted jokes here and there. A comment about your major, a joke about your driving, maybe even some embarrassing childhood stories.

He wasn’t expecting this.

“It is such a surprise that our dearest [Y/N] has finally brought someone home!” Your mother announced, sending her daughter what Nanami thought was a rather sheepish smile. “I mean, at some point we thought we would be the family’s spinster, ha!” And then she sent you the most condescending smile, one that made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Not even after discovering you have a boyfriend (well, a fake one, but she doesn’t need to know), your mother could be supportive.

“Well, I’ve always been full of surprises,” You retaliate bluntly with a tight-lipped line. Nanami slowly brought his hand under the table to squeeze yours, and when you faced him, you were met with a look that meant more than a thousand words. Stay strong. I’m with you, he seemed to silently say.

“Kento – mind if I call you Kento?” Your father interrupted loudly, not sparing you a glance. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a salaryman. I work in the same office as [Y/N].” Was Nanami’s response. You cringed at your father’s attempt to talk more familiarly with Nanami. It felt odd, it felt rigid, and you just knew what question would follow.

“Ah, I see. Well, I sure do hope you’re at least winning more than our [Y/N] here!” The older man blurted, shaking his head in disappointment. “We told her to focus on her studies, make sure she has a nice paying job by the time she finds a husband, but she instead decided to pursue those… hobbies of her, and ended up with a mediocre office job.” Then, as if his rude observation meant nothing, he added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a hard-working young man, you should aim higher and consider a career in a more lucrative field. Have you tried investing, or finances? If you want to provide a better future for my daughter, you should be prepared.”

Great, now not only was he making rude comments towards you, but he was also making rude comments towards your “boyfriend”. When would this end?

“Dad.” You cut in, scowling at him. How dare he ask such questions?

“What?” He asked, shrugging. As if these types of discussions were as casual as small talk or mentions of weathers. “I need to make sure that this man will provide for you. After all, you refused to go and do something useful with your life – “

“I think what [Y/N] has done of her life is for her, and only her to decide.” Nanami chimed in. “And as her parents, you should be nothing but supportive. It’s not up to you to decide what’s useful or not.” Your cheeks warmed at that. He sounded so clear and straightforward. He managed to do, within minutes, what you had been too afraid to do your whole life.

Your father seemed to dismiss what Nanami had said, waving his hand about and muttering some incomprehensible gibberish.

While your mother fetched the main plate, the room was filled with light chatter. Nanami leaned towards you, lips softly brushing the shell of your ear. It made your heart leap to have him so close.

“You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole dinner without throwing a plate at any of their faces.” He mumbled, hand still squeezing yours tightly. This small comment earned a chuckle from you, and Nanami smiled at the response. To anyone else watching, you two looked like a lovesick couple engaging in some light banter and gossip.

“Ah! Here it is!” Your mother gleamed, bringing in pots and pans full of curry rice, udon noodles, miso soup, and some other side dishes you couldn’t see. For all you disliked your family, you couldn’t lie – family gatherings had the best food. You had once tried to learn how to cook from your mother, but after two failed commands (in her opinion) and a whole lot of yelling, you gave up.

“You should try the curry,” you told Nanami, holding your plate securely to pour some of the food on it. “She might be a witch sometimes, but her curry is to die for.” This last part was only but a whisper, and it got Nanami to smile crookedly.

God, you loved to see him smile.

At the office he always looked so serious, so tense. Nanami hated working overtime, and no matter how nice the company you kept each other ways, you could still see the exhaustion taking over him most days, rendering him cold and distant.

Here, though?

He seemed relaxed to a fault. As relaxed as he could be in a situation like this.

“Honey!” There was your mother again. Great, you were starting to miss her unnecessary statements! “Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” She inquired, looking particularly scandalised and attempting to reach your plate.

“Yes, I am. Why? Is there a problem?” You tried to sound brave, but Nanami was quick to notice the shake in your voice and the way your hand trembled in his.

“Oh, well, honey, I just think you should be careful! Don’t wanna put on any weight, do you? I’m sure Kento here wouldn’t want you to gain some extra pounds.”

Ah, this woman clearly made a mistake.

Nanami cleared his throat and made a poor attempt at trying to conceal the anger in his voice.

“I assure you ma’am, that is the least of my concerns.” He asserted and removed your plate from the woman’s hands. “Your daughter looks amazing, and if she’s happy with herself, so am I. In fact, I think she looks particularly breathtaking this evening, don’t you? You must be so proud.”

He’d pushed your parents into a corner, and all they could do was stammer and babble and look around for any help from their relatives – help that did not come.

“I’m quite the lucky man.” Nanami gave your parents the same kind of pretentious, fake smile they gave to him, and dug into his food.

And what else could you do but smile? Mouthing a quick “thank you”, you decided to get to eating as well. Seeing your parents so flustered had given you a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in years, not in front of them, and it felt good.

For a few godly minutes, everything seemed to go well.

You were enjoying your food, and Nanami was exchanging pleasantries with some of your cousins. It seemed almost normal, the way it was going. Your cousin Ichigo and his wife, who were both ten years older than you were particularly interested in discussing the best kinds of liquors with your friend. Hiroshi tried to rope him into a talk of cars, and Makoto expressed his hatred towards overtime.

It felt too good to be true.

Probably because it was.

After dinner, you were the first to get on your feet to help clear the table. The quicker you did it, the quicker you could get the hell out of that place.

You were loading the dishwasher, distracted by the background noise of the chatter and the news that played in the television, when your cousin Emiko approached. Emiko was her parents’ pride and joy. Unnaturally beautiful, she had no real talent other than looking pretty and finding a rich man. It didn’t matter – the family loved her for it, and you’d spent your whole entire life being compared to her.

“So! ‘Cus, do tell us, how much did you pay for him?” She asked coyly. There was something poisonous laced in her words. You supposed it was jealousy – despite being seated near her husband, Emiko had spent the entire evening studying Nanami, running her eyes through his broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, no doubt drooling.

You sighed. There was never much you could do about Emiko. You either ignored her words or played into her traps, and both options tested your patience gravely.

“I did not pay him, Emiko. Nanami and I have been dating for a while now.” You replied casually. Somehow, you could still feel tingles where his hand had previously been. On your hand, on your waist. The memory of his lips against your ear elicited a full-body shiver from you. “And I’ll remind you that he’s just next door, so please be considerate.”

“Come on, no one else’s in here, you don’t have to pretend.” Emiko peeked at you. When she saw no visible reaction, she sighed, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes at you before turning to face the kitchen door. “Come on, lighten up. It was a joke. But you have to understand – you were never something to look at, were you?” She snickered, taking a big gulp of her wine right after. “How’d you manage to snatch up a guy like this?”

You were done.

This comment had been the final straw.

You knew Emiko to be mean, but this? Assuming you had to pay for a handsome man’s company, simply because she didn’t deem you as attractive? As interesting?

Were you simply not worthy of love?

You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, but before you could try to come up with a reply, a familiar voice interrupted you.

“Actually, it was I who managed to snatch her up.” Nanami was standing by the doorframe, casting you the warmest, most lovely, most caring gaze ever. You felt warm to be looked like that, like you were the most precious thing in the world to this man. “I got lucky. When we first started dating, I wondered how the hell such an interesting, beautiful woman would ever look at me.” A small chuckle. “I still do – I don’t feel like I’m worthy of her.”

Emiko was speechless. She just stared from you to Nanami, from Nanami to you, her words somehow losing their power after this confession.

You looked at Nanami and quickly wiped away the tear that threatened to spill. Seeing this, he walked over to you, pulling you closer by the waist.

“I think you’re wrong, Emiko.” He continued, not even sparing her a second glance as his hand lifted your chin up with the gentleness of someone who holds the entire world in their hands. “Not something to look at? I mean… Look at her. How could I ever be deserving of such a beautiful woman?”

You felt heat radiate from his body, and as if it was second nature, you cupped his jaw with your hands. He was so close, so impossibly close. You could make out every single one of his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes caused by sleepless nights working, the eyebrows that were usually furrowed and deep in thought – Nanami Kento was beautiful.

And according to him, so were you.

He searched in your eyes for any kind of signal. A yes, a no. A simply gesture that could change the rest of your night (and perhaps the course of your, well, relationship forever).

It was almost imperceptible when you nodded, meeting his gaze through lidded eyes.

So he dipped his head, and softly caught his lips with yours.

You’d fantasized about this once or twice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the real deal. Nanami was a good kisser. His lips moved effortlessly around yours, molding like he had been kissing you for years. The hand at your waist brought you close, close, impossibly close, so close that you couldn’t think of getting away – good. Nanami didn’t want you to ever leave his side.

And you kissed him back just as tenderly, afraid to ruin the moment. Your tongue swiped shyly across his bottom lip, and he gave you one of his signature smiles – reserved, contained, but 100% him.

Behind him, he could hear Emiko scoff and leave the kitchen. Perfect. He didn’t want a crowd anyways.

After pulling away for air, Nanami studied your face attentively.

Your eyes were wide and bright, sparkling with what seemed like magic. He wanted to kiss every inch of your face – your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He wanted to kiss your soft, plush lips again and again and again. Thank God you’d invited him to be your fake boyfriend. Nanami had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and while this wasn’t the most conventional date, he was known for being efficient and straightforward.

“Let’s get out of here. You deserve to be kissed somewhere else.” He mumbled in that raspy voice of his that did things to you. You nodded and held his hand as he led you through the corridors.

The goodbyes were ushered, and the promises to call and come back soon were very blatantly fake. Your parents, however charmed by this man at first glance, refused to hide their scowls at this point. They did not like being contradicted. Neither did your cousins – or rather, the ones that had giggled and whispered and made smaller comments at the beginning like “Wow [Y/N], such a miracle, you finally found someone!” and “Oh, Nanami-san, when you get tired of her, please do call us – we’ll be waiting! What? It was a joke, don’t be such a downer!”.

The ride home had been quiet. Peaceful.

You refused to let Nanami go, and he refused to let you go, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain when he placed his big palm on top of your thigh as he drove.

Then, as you arrived to your place, he walked you to the door, silently holding onto your hand.

You gazed up at him, and then at the floor.

“So…” Why were words so hard?

You wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had he kissed you? Had he liked it? Did it mean something to him? Was it just a distraction? Is your friendship ruined?

“I hope you know it is not true.”

“Huh?” You met his eyes.

“Everything they said.” Nanami refused to let go of your hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. “It’s not true. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and so many other things that I want to say but can’t find the words to.” He’d never been good with his words. But you thought he was doing a pretty good job.

Then, he shook his head, running a hand through his now slightly ruffled hair. “I wish I was better at this. My point is – you’re remarkable, [Y/N]. The way you care for others, the way you’re so unapologetically you, the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and be heard. Those are all admirable qualities. If your family can’t see that, then it’s their fault.”

You could just stare at him in awe.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out. On a date, an actual date. Not just some simple last-minute overtime office dinner. A proper date, just you and me.”

A date? With him?

“You can say no if you want to. I won’t force you. But I’d like to take you out for dinner. Or lunch. Or anything you want, basically, I –“ He sighed once again. “Point is. I really like you, [Y/N]. I know, I know, we don’t know each other that well, and I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but –“

“I really like you too.” You blurted out without thinking. So, all of this time, your feelings hadn’t been one sided? He too felt the same as you? All those nights at the office, all those small interactions, making the workplace an easier place to deal with, all of the jokes and giggles and antics – he cherished them too? “And I… I’d love to go out for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you want, really! The point is,” You gather yourself, smiling like a fool. “I’d really love to go on a date with you.”

In that exact same moment, while you and Nanami smiled at each other like two shy teenagers, the only witness to your awkward confessions being the moon and the lights from the city above you, you didn’t think of yourself as unworthy, as dumb, and useless and a no-good child. The hurtful comments made by your family were far, far away, like they’d happened a lifetime ago.

You saw yourself the way he did. Remarkable. Kind, talented, beautiful, and oh so worthy of love.

A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it! I love this man so much hehe he deserves all the fics! Thank you for the lovely request, I'm so glad I got to finally start writing for Nanami instead of simply reading!

Have an amazing day everyone! <3

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silaswritesthings · 6 months

Text

What kind of name is ‘Hat guy’?

Summary: You’re stressing over exams and Hat guy offers his assistance. There’s small banter here and there.

Starring: Wanderer/Scaramouche/Hat guy (whatever you prefer)

Genre: I hate college (this should be a genre), fluff

Warnings: Edited ONCE (I have an exam on Thursday 🧍‍♀️)

Author’s note: I’m alive. I haven’t posted in ages and I just needed to write something so I sat down and wrote 800 words in two hours when I can’t finish a 2k word essay for school in two weeks… (The curse of creativity.) Another thing, if you wish ti send asks please do so! I’ve run out of creative juices and well that’s it. I won’t guarantee masterpieces because well… college and all, but i’ll try my best to answer all of them because my brain is drying up and I need inspiration! likes, comments, reblogs and new followers will always be appreciated!

Word count: Roughly 800 words

It’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

You leaned against the tree behind you, the wind flicking your research papers in every direction as you stared hopelessly at the grass.

It had been a month since you had started your recent semester and with a big exam coming up, at first, you were prepared for it mentally. How hard could it be? So many people have been able to keep up with the academia’s standards and you rarely hear people complain about being unable to keep up with their work but archons, this was hard…

“I truly am incapable.” You mumbled to yourself.

“You are.” A voice tuned in from right beside you. In a moment of panic, you glanced to the side only to come face to face with a familiar pair of feet.

What? There was nothing odd about being acquainted with Hat Guy’s feet- well, to be more specific, his shoes. Most people in your class had already been subjected to being under said shoes many times. The man in question described it to you as a showcase of his superiority.

In all honesty, his research papers were enough to make the sages sweat so what other show of superiority would he need beyond that?

You’ve never had the courage to ask. You’ve never had the courage to approach him about anything, which was odd considering how often you two spoke with each other. Every conversation begun with him. At times he’d prod and poke at you as a way of getting more than just affirmative phrases, such as ‘mhm’, ‘yes’ and ‘I agree’, from you. It was quite endearing.

That is a lie.

It was very endearing, but now was not the time to dwell on that.

The hat guy, you used to call him ‘Wanderer’ because you were sane unlike everyone else who could call him ‘hat guy’ without a glimmer of hesitation. What kind of name is ’Hat guy’ anyway? Despite this, you never failed to notice the way his gaze would soften whenever he was addressed by that name. Was he insane too? Was this insanity contagious? It seemed so, because whenever you used his odd name he would smile. It was barely there but it was not something you could miss.

The rustling of papers gave you the motivation to glance up at him, and would you look at that. He was watching you with bemusement, as if you tried to convince him that he was made out of cotton wool or something.

“Even a child knows not to allow their work to be blown away so carelessly by the wind.” He spoke as he organised your notes. The wind that caused your papers to struggle in his hold made his hair dance atop his head and over his forehead.

“Unfortunately that topic isn’t in my exam syllabus.”

He scoffed before taking a seat beside you and handing you your notes. Wordlessly, you took the papers and filed them away in your folder.

“It’s not very clear.”

You blinked in surprise before turning to look at Wanderer (You’d use that name just this once…) who had his gaze fixed on the cloud-filled sky. “What?”

“Your research design. It needs to be revised a bit, especially the part concerning your data analytics.” His eyes turned to you, leaving you thoughtless.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You both looked ahead of you at the same time, silence settling between you as the wind blew around you, picking up leaves as it went by.

Hat guy sighed. “You’re much harder to talk to than me, and that’s saying a lot since I actively avoid people.”

“I’m not very good at starting conversations.”

“You’re not good at maintaining them either.”

“I’ve heard.”

Your gaze remained on the sky, it was grey. Bleak. Depressing.

Should cloudy days come with a trigger warning for academics?

During your internal struggle, Hat guy’s gaze had shifted to yours and you were so lost in your own world that he should have found it pathetic. Oh but he did, the problem was he wished your thoughts lingered on him instead.

He frowned as he gazed to the side and cleared his throat. This caught your attention but when you looked at him, his face was hidden from your view when he spoke. “I could help you with your work, if you’d like.”

Your eyes widened. “Why?”

The wind was relentless as it continued to blow, his hair dancing with the breeze as the corner of his lips shifted upwards a bit.

“I like to show off.”

You smiled. You were still upset about your shortcomings but having someone be there for you for this one moment made the weight on your shoulders drift away with the wind.

Why was the wind so persistent today anyways?

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onewildwrites · 6 months

Text

Please Please Me [Calvin Evans x reader]

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: You persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.

Warnings: 18+ no minors, smut, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), brief thoughts of somnophilia, praise kink, brief mentions of breeding kink (but no really because it’s mostly just taking about cum and creampies lol), pet names (sweetheart, honey, little wife), no use of y/n, fem reader, a little fluffy ending!

A/N: This took me an embarrassingly long time to write so I hope you enjoy, and please don’t forget to comment and reblog🫶

Calvin Evans was an incredibly dedicated chemist. He seemed to care more for his work than anything else in the world.

Late nights were almost always spent in his lab when he could be sure his scientific process would not be disturbed, more importantly there would be no Donatti banging on his door asking when his latest experiment would be done.

His commitment to his work is what many (even those who weren’t particularly fond of Evans) would list as one of his greatest strengths.

Not you though.

Definitely not you.

You didn’t want to be misunderstood, you were truly proud of Calvin and his work. He was a brilliant man who deserved every bit of praise he got. You would accompany him to every award ceremony and never grow tired of hearing speech upon speech about what a wonder he was in the scientific community.

But you were getting very tired of spending most nights in your home alone.

Every night for the past month at 1:35am on the dot, you would be awoken by the feeling of the right side of the bed sinking to the weight of his lanky body. He would apologize profusely for waking you so late, and proceed to move to the couch in the living room.

In the beginning you hoped you could at least have a brief moment of alone time with Calvin in your shared morning before he went off to work. But of course he had already left for his early row by the time you opened your eyes.

Even weekends weren’t sacred anymore since moving some of his lab equipment to his home office. Calvin would leave his office when you alerted him dinner was ready, you two would stick to light small talk ( “How’s your research going?” “This is delicious” “Anything interesting in the news lately?” “Have you heard about what happened to Mrs.Jones down the road?”) Cavin would eat quickly, finishing before you were even halfway through your food, thank you for the meal and quickly peck your cheek before going right back to his office.

Like any sane person you were growing impatient with your husbands never ending busy schedule. A woman has needs just like any man does and Calvin should know that very well by now.

Much of your early relationship was spent exploring all the ways you could please each other. After all, Calvin was a scientist and he would reason the best way to find out was to experiment. That meant hours wrapped up in your white sheets, christening every surface of his home, trying things you never would have even fantasized of doing in your wildest dreams.

You missed that time desperately now and you had a plan to get it back.

–

Calvin was never good at picking up on social cues. Luckily most people thought he was simply pulling their leg when he took a joke or a sarcastic comment seriously. But he knew something had changed with you the moment he stepped into your shared home that Friday night.

He still made sure to close the door with extra caution so as not to wake you, even though he ended up almost constantly waking you when he slunk into bed anyway. Going through his usual routine of removing his sweat soaked running clothes, grabbing a pair of clean pajamas, and jumping into the bathroom for a quick shower.

After thoroughly removing the feeling of grime from his skin he makes his way towards your bedroom rubbing his tired eyes. He knows he has only himself to blame for his recent exhaustion but he’s never been great at putting anything before his work, and that includes sleep.

As he expects there you are sleeping sweetly, your left hand resting gently under your face. No matter how many times he sees you sleep he knows he will never get bored of it.

Calvin was quickly pulled out of his state of adoration when he realized something was off with the usual picture he was used to coming home to. You were sleeping on your stomach with your leg sticking out from the duvet. And Calvin may be downright lousy at picking up social cues but he always noticed a change in his surroundings.

You most certainly never had to worry about Calvin failing to notice a change in your style or a new haircut because he was the first to comment on it. “This new dress looks lovely on you.” he’d say while kissing the exposed bit of your shoulder.

In all the years he had known you, you never once slept on your stomach (it was a deeply inconvenient position for cuddling according to you), and you definitely never let your limbs hang off the bed (some old superstitious fear you had as a child that stuck with you into adulthood).

He decided to investigate further, even if it turned out to just be him reading too much into it.

Striding over to your side of the bed he looked for anything else that might be out of place. Your breathing was normal, the book on your bedside table was laying in the same place you put it all other nights, and your nightly glass of water sat empty. He was about to scold himself for being overdramatic when his eyes caught the lack of fabric on your shoulders.

Maybe you purchased a new sleeveless nightgown, Calvin tried to reason with himself. Maybe it was just a particularly low neckline or perhaps the fabric matched your skin tone so well he just wasn’t seeing it, after all the room was dark. Yes, that was possible.

Of course he couldn’t leave it at that - oh why didn’t he leave it at that and go right to bed? “You’re being ridiculous,” he scolded himself like a child in a whisper. “Just take a quick look, there’s no harm.”

Carefully he reached for where the blanket met your exposed back, making sure not to graze your skin, as much as he wanted to.

Sure enough there it was, you, completely exposed to him. The sides of your breasts pushing out against the mattress and your round ass on full display. “Shit…” the words fell out of Calvins mouth before he could stop them. He felt like a stupid teenager getting his first glance at a nude woman all over again.

Thoughts of temptation filled his mind. What would happen if he did touch you? If his hands slipped down towards the space between your thighs. Would you wake suddenly furious that he would ever wake you from your peaceful sleep? What about encouraging him to join you and take off his towel?

Of course he wouldn’t ever be sure of the real answer as Calvin could not bring himself to touch you while unconscious. It would be downright ungentlemanly.

He shook his head to clear his mind of the thoughts.

Calvin was lifting the edge of the duvet to cover you back up when you began to move. Panic filled him as he froze completely, fearing what you would think if you caught him ogling you in your sleep. Luckily enough for him your eyes did not open, but something unexpected did come out of your mouth.

At first Calvin thought he was hearing things, maybe the exhaustion of all these long nights in the lab were finally getting to him. Although that was a strong possibility in his mind there was no doubt the noises he was hearing were coming from you. Noises he was all too familiar with. Soft, breathy, moans.

This was not a sound Calvin knew you could make in your sleep. So similar to the sounds you let out when he was on top of that if he closed his eyes he would swear that’s where he was. While being swept up by his own imagination he nearly missed the words you spoke. “Mmph…Calvin…”

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. He could no longer ignore the growing bulge under the towel wrapped around his waist. Dropping the blanket back over you, he rushed back to the bathroom.

Leaning against the sink Calvin ripped the towel from around him, freeing his hard cock. Bringing his right hand up to his mouth he spit a glob of saliva into the center of his palm. Wasting no time at all he reached down and grasped the base of his throbbing length causing a gasp to escape him. “Fuck,” He moaned, his voice trembing with arousal. Calvin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this desperate for a release.

Reminiscing about the last time he had gotten you all to himself Calvin began working his hand over his cock. The way you bit your bottom lip when you were close to orgasm, how soft your ass felt in his hands, or how you begged him so sweetly to cum inside of you. “Oh honey,” he groaned with teeth clenched. The more he thought about you the closer he got to the edge.

Keeping his arm still Calvin started bucking his hips forward, fucking his fist while picturing you on your knees below him. Your big doe eyes looking up at him with an innocent glint was his weakness. How was someone even able to look so naive with a cock between their lips? “That’s it, God you're so good to me,” he could no longer hold back.

Picking up his pace Calvins mind went blank, only the sensation of his impending orgasm could be felt. A jumbled mix of curses sprung from his lips as he watched the cum shoot from the tip of his cock onto his fist.

Calvin remained silent in the bathroom, the only sound to be heard was the heavy panting noise of him trying to catch his breath. After a few beats he decided it would be best to clean up the mess he had made, put his pajamas on and get out of there as soon as possible. God forbid you wake up for a late night bathroom trip and see him like this.

Walking back out to the living room he began to wonder how loud he had been, did he wake you with his erratic moans? Choosing to take a quick peak and make sure he hadn’t embarrassed himself further he gracefully nudged your bedroom door open a sliver. Clearly the universe was looking out for old Calvin because there you lay, sleeping soundly.

Letting out a breath of relief Calvin moved back out towards his bed tonight – the couch.

If only Calvin had stayed watching you a little longer he would have seen the sly smirk spreading across your lips.

Everything goes according to plan.

–

The sun peeked through the blinds, shining directly onto his eyelids when he woke in the morning. He had been too distracted last night to set his usual 6am alarm but he welcomed the extra rest. Honestly after the night he had Calvin was surprised he slept at all.

Figuring there was no time to waste if he still wanted to go on his morning row, Calvin sat upright on the couch, wiping the sleep from his eyes. While rubbing his eyes Calvins nose picked up an array of once familiar scents: eggs, toast, bacon, and…was that pancakes? It had been so long since you last cooked breakfast for him –again Calvin knew that was completely his fault.

Cavin was starting to forget what your warm meals tasted like, becoming accustomed to eating the cold leftovers whenever he returned home. Perhaps he could skip the row, just this one time…

Strolling towards the kitchen with a smile on his face Calvin nearly tripped himself when he caught sight of you. Standing as he expected in front of the stove top, humming along to whatever song was playing in your head while carefully flipping pancakes. What he did not expect was the lingerie you were wearing while doing it. He’d obviously lost track of time while eyeing you as you noticed him, slack jaw and all.

You fully turned towards him with a smile, “Good morning sleepyhead.”

–

How you wish you had a camera near you now. The look on Calvins face was priceless. You had never seen him so stunned before, and that includes the first time you agreed to go on a date with him.

“M-morning,” he stuttered, clearly trying (and failing) to fix his uncouth expression.

His gaze wandered across the outfit before him. A light pink set, silk top decorated with a delicate bow in the center of the chest, short ruffled bloomers, completed with a transparent tulle robe.

You turned back towards the stove. “Did you sleep well? I missed you last night. It’s always so lonely in bed without you,” you said, exaggerating the sadness in your voice.

That seemed to snap Calvin back to his normal self, “I’m sorry honey, you know I just worry about waking you up,” the genuine concern in his voice almost made you feel bad for playing it up so much…almost.

“Well you woke me up anyway, so why didn’t you just join me, hm?” You had a feeling you could see the panic on his face without even looking back.

A hitch in his breathing and a sudden step towards you let you know you were spot on. “When exactly did I wake you?” he questioned.

“Oh you know, when you were playing with your cock in the bathroom,” you stated it simply like you were telling him something he already knew. “I have to say I was very disappointed you didn’t invite me Calvin, you know I hate to think of all the cum you wasted without me there to clean it up.” You shut the burner on the stove off, moving the final pancake off the side with the rest.

Finished with the task at hand you looked back at Calvin. No longer the anxious face you were anticipating, no this was a look you recognized instantly, arousal.

Calvin licked his lips, “You dirty little minx,” wrapping his hands around your waist he swiftly pulled you towards him. His hot breath fanning across your face, “You planned all this out didn’t you?”

Batting your lashes at him you whipped out your best virginal response, “I have no idea what you could possibly be accusing me of Dr.Evans.”

He tilted his head to the side, “Are you sure about that?” His hands were now grazing further down your back causing an involuntary shiver to run over you. “So you didn’t sleep naked last night hoping it would drive me crazy? How about moaning in your ‘sleep’ expecting me to get hard?”

You shook your head at every accusation. Watching Calvin grow more impatient with your antics was only egging you on.

He let out a huff, “No? Not even wearing this skimpy thing to cook breakfast in?”

“How do you know this isn’t what I usually cook breakfast in? It’s not like you’re ever around when I do it anyway.” The facade you had put on dropped quickly.

It was clear a lightbulb went off in Calvins head, “Is that what this is about? Have I been neglecting my pretty little wife's needs?” He moved his head into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against your pulse.

Now it was your turn to stutter, “M-maybe…” Your eyes closed at the feeling of him being so close to you.

His lips moved to graze your neck, making his words jumbled, “Well I think I know just how to apologize for it.”

You were about to ask how when suddenly Calvins lips crashed onto yours, pushing every coherent thought from your mind. Caught off guard you forget to move your lips with his. He pulled away briefly to let out a hoarse whisper, “Kiss me,” The command was so gentle it seemed almost like a question.

You could never deny him of what he wanted. Moving back into the kiss you meet him with equal lust, like you both had been deprived of touch for years. God you missed this, the soft groans passing by your lips as your tongues melted against each other. You noticed a growing hardness pressed to your upper thigh. “Getting excited over a little kiss Calvin?” you teased. Your forehead rested against his, nudging his nose with yours.

“Can you blame me? I mean look at you,” Calvins right hand moved up from its place on your back, undoing the tie in the middle of your robe. You shook it from off your shoulders, letting it fall on the kitchen floor. Calvin took a step back to get a better look at you, making you whine at the loss of contact. “So perfect for me,” he said, like there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that it was true.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he sunk slowly onto his knees.

His hands pulled at the back of your thighs, squeezing the soft skin. “I’m thanking my beautiful wife for putting up with me.”

Your eyes rolled at his dramatics. “Cavin I d-” the words ripped from you before they were even out as his lips moved to the inner part of your thigh. Dragging the delicate skin of his lips across you, your eyelids fluttered shut once more. “I should have known you would need me to take care of you,” he admitted.

The petals of his lips roaming higher up your thighs he shifted you so that your legs were flush against his torso. “Don’t you sweetheart, you need me to take care of you?” Although his tone was clearly mocking it still made you feel warm inside.

“Mhm, I do I do, please,” you nodded dumbly.

His smile pressed against your skin, “How cruel of me to ever leave my sweet wife and her needy pussy all alone.” Calvins right hand reached up to the center of your bloomers, thumb grazing over your clit.

“F-uck,” you gasped, dropping your hands to grip the base of Calvin's hair.

“You’re worse off than I thought you were,” he joked. Wasting no more time teasing you Calvin lowered your bloomers, pulling them with his teeth. Your eyes sprung open to watch him work.

Biting his lower lip Calvin admired the wetness dripping from you. “Miss me?”

“Yes, God Calvin Please,” you begged looking down at him with desperation flowing from you.

His eyes met your, “You don't need to beg for me anymore honey, I’m home now.” keeping eye contact with you Calvin kissed your aching clit. Gradually escalating from sweet pecks to open mouth licks you could feel your knees lock below you. Calvin shifted your left leg over his shoulder to drown himself inside your cunt, licking from your clit to your opening.

Moans falling from your lips before you even knew what you were saying, “Yes, fuck you’re so good Calvin,” you swore he always looked his best under you, even if your eyes were having trouble focusing at the moment.

Your praise was the only kind that Calvin cared about you recalled him telling you, and now that was obvious to you. Your words clearly have an effect on his performance. Encouraging him to lick and suck your clit with vigor. His moans vibrate your core pushing you further towards the edge of your impending orgasm.

Withdrawing his face from your pulsating cunt, Calvin lays his face on your thigh. Hastily replacing his tongue with his fingers and continuing the same motions. Seemingly mesmerized by his own actions Calvin stares at your pussy while speaking to you, “Yeah? You like when I pay attention to you?” His words came out wobbly like he was the one being pleasured.

Using all the strength you could muster you tried to really look at him like this. Face flush red leading down to his neck, your slick covering most of his chin, that one vein popping out of his temple. Never before Calvin have you seen a man look so determined to please.

“Mhm Yes, God Calvin, I love it when you pay attention to me,” you groaned.

“Good because I’ll be doing a lot more of it now.” going back in for another taste, he is like a man possessed. Calvin has always been an attentive man, inside and outside the bedroom and it was clear he was trying to prove something to you at this moment.

“Fuck I’m so close Calvin,” you warned.

He broke away from your pussy for a second time, “Yeah, you gonna come all over my face honey?”

You could no longer keep your eyes open, squeezing them shut tight. You wanted to say something- anything in response but the words failed you, opting to nod your head quickly.

“Do it sweetheart, come for me, please,” he coaxed, playing with your clit at the same steady pace he had been previously.

That was all it took for you to come, nearly collapsing into Calvin's arms. He held you upright as your orgasm overtook you. His praise continued as you came down from your high, “You're such a good little wife for me, that’s it honey, come just like that.”

After a few moments calming your breathing you decided to be brave and attempt to move on your own. You joined Calvin down on the floor, sitting in his lap. Letting out a sigh as you came back to your senses, “Fuck me.”

“I would but I'm afraid I may have gotten a little overly excited,” Calvin laughed. You took notice of what he was referring to, a large wet patch on the crotch of his pants.

“Well I’m glad that took care of itself because I don’t know I would have had any energy to help you with it, you drained me.” You jested, but really you weren’t sure your brain was working properly enough to think, let alone suck Calvin off.

The both of you sat in a peaceful moment of silence after that, fixing the others' wrecked appearance. You realized that these were the moments you missed most when Calvin left, simply basking in each other's presence - even if nothing extraordinarily romantic was happening.

“You know when you want me to spend more time with you all you have to do is ask, right?” he broke the silence while brushing your hair behind your ear.

“You know it would be a lot easier to ask you if you weren’t constantly away working or rowing, right?” you asked with the same cadence as him.

That made him giggle, “Fair point, I promise not to let my neurotic ways keep me away from you ever again.” You planted a quick peck in his lips at that, delighted to hear him say it. “In the meantime is there anything else I can do to make it up to you?”

You pretended to be deep in thought about his question, furrowing your brows together and tapping your pointer finger on your chin. “How about sitting down and eating the breakfast I’ve worked so hard on with me?”

Calvin moved from underneath you, causing a frown to appear on your face. He stood up and reached a hand down, inviting you to grab it and pull yourself up. “You don’t have to ask me twice,” he smiled, pulling up two chairs to the dining table.

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