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#this is so late you sent this like months ago i’m sorry i just got madney INSPO
navybrat817 · 5 months
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Indulgence
Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.
“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”
“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”
“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”
“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”
“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”
You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.
“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.
You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.
You were more than happy to help.
“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.
You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.
But it wasn't that cut and dry.
“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.
You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.
He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.
That was where you came into the picture.
If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.
“You wanna be my angel?”
You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.
While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.
Unlike your last boyfriend.
As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.
Was it a recipe for disaster?
The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.
His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.
You had it bad.
“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”
Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.
Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.
“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.
He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”
You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.
“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.
“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.
“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.
Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.
He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.
It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.
“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.
He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.
He wouldn't budge on that rule.
“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.
His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.
Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.
You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.
Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.
“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”
His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Three months since we started this,” he answered.
You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.
A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”
Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?
“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”
You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.
And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.
He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”
“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”
He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.
“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”
Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.
You trusted him and he made you feel safe.
“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.
A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.
“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.
So were you.
It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.
You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.
He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.
Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.
“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”
A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”
“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”
He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.
“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.
“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.
“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.
He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.
“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”
You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.
“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”
“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.
And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.
Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.
“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”
Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.
“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”
You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”
In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.
He took you to heaven when he was inside you.
“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.
“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”
“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”
Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.
Flaws and all.
“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.��
Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.
“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”
It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.
“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”
“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”
“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”
“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.
“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”
Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?
Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”
He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”
The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.
Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”
Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.
“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.
A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.
It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.
Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.
You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.
At least, that was what he told you.
You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?
Had you taken care of him?
Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.
“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.
“You okay?”
“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.
For now.
He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”
“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”
His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”
You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.
You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?
Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.
“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.
He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”
Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.
You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.
“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.
He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”
Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.
“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”
He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”
There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.
One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.
You wondered if Bucky told her about you.
“What’s there to like?” He asked.
You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”
“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.
“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.
Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.
Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.
“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.
It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.
And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.
Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?
“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”
“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”
You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.
That day changed your life.
“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”
“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.
In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.
Permanently.
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I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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harstyle · 1 month
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the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
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I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 
“Of course.” 
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
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slttygeto · 10 months
Text
CURSING MY NAME, WISHING I STAYED.
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જ⁀➴ synopsis: you never got the chance to say goodbye to each other in 2007, you never thought you needed to. ten years later, you are still unable to find the right words as you stand in front of his lifeless body. if suguru geto was truly dead, who was the man standing in front you almost a year later?
જ⁀➴ content warning: angst, hurt/no comfort, manga spoilers, slapping and choking.
જ⁀➴ word count: 1,4k
જ⁀➴ note: this was requested about a year ago and I only got the chance to work on it today. enjoy :)!
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You never associate Suguru with spring, despite it being such a lovely season, you remember it being the one season where he decided he needed to pull away. It was subtle, but you could feel it. He ate less, spoke less, he didn’t want to hang out as usual. You didn’t go on missions anymore, but you tried to be present. Even when summer came around and all hell broke loose.
You associate Suguru with autumn. Satoru doesn’t say a single word when you say it loud, when you tell him that that the orange leaves falling down and painting the road remind you of your past lover, how your love for him felt that way when he left—fragile, easily crushed. But Satoru would beg to differ. He could see it in your eyes, how they refuse to meet his when Yaga brings up the man’s name. It hurts to lose a best friend, but it hurts even more when you have a best friend and a lover in the same person.
Ten years later on Christmas Eve, Satoru has to put his best friend to rest. He doesn’t need to call you or tell you where he is, you just know. You show up as Suguru is taking his last breath and you stand there, unmoving. Your love for Suguru didn’t feel like autumn anymore. The tears running down your face were warm, and your chin was quivering as you let out a pathetic sob.
“I’m sorry.” What was Suguru apologizing for? For killing people or for betraying the people he loved the most? You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, didn’t even bother to wipe the tears blurring your vision. You just stared at him, how a smile was dancing on his lips as he saw the two people he loved the most standing in front of him.
“Perhaps in another life,” Suguru’s voice is quiet, and you seem to take notice of how pale he looks. “I am who you’ve always wanted me to be.”
You wanted him to be many things, but it seemed unfair for him. If Suguru was truly unhappy while in Jujutsu high, then maybe you were never meant to be together. If he couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world, then perhaps destiny played its cards wrong. If you were never able to keep Suguru around, then Suguru was never yours to keep in the first place.
You watch as the life slowly fades out of his body, and Satoru turns away from the corpse of his best as you kneel down in front of it and hold his lifeless body in your arms, the heart wrenching sobs that you let out force the strongest sorcerer to stand behind you and place a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s time to go.”
--
 “You’re late, (name).” You never associated Suguru with autumn after his death. In fact, no season could do your past lover justice. Yet the person standing in front of you reminded you of winter—cold, mean and lifeless.
Why was Suguru standing in front of you?
You and Satoru are unmoving as the familiar body of your best friend and lover approaches the two of you. You don’t speak, your lips are frozen as you stare in shock at the same person whom you’ve been mourning his death for the past twelve months.
Geto Suguru passed away on December 24th. You’ve been mourning his absence for almost a year—so who was this person standing in front of you?
“I don’t remember you being this quiet, my love.” The pet name sent shivers down your spine, and you watched as the hand of your past lover reached towards your face to hold it. You craved this, to be held by him again after so long, to feel the warmth of the one person who promised you a lifetime of happiness—only to break that promise so soon. You pull away harshly when the tip of his fingers touches your cheek, and Geto Suguru seems to find your hesitance extremely funny.
“Who are you?” You step back towards Gojo, and you don’t need to look his way to know that he was just as taken aback as you were. Wide blue eyes staring in shock at his best friend—his one and only. It was sad that Geto Suguru (while he was still alive) was your enemy for longer than he was a loved one or a best friend.
“Geto Suguru of course.” Liar.
“My six eyes…” Satoru starts, and your heart breaks at how panicked he sounds. “My six eyes are telling me that you are Geto Suguru.”
But he wasn’t Suguru. This wasn’t the man you fell for, nor the man you fought last year. You refused to believe that he somehow came back to life. Not when you kneeled in front of his corpse and held him in your arms.
“But my soul knows otherwise! So hurry up and tell us, who the hell are you?!”
It’s a gut wrenching feeling as you watch the man in front of you open up Geto’s head and toy with it as he wished. He lets out an ugly laugh, one that doesn’t match Suguru’s beauty.
“It’s a cursed technique that allows me to hop between bodies by switching brains. Of course, it lets me use the innate techniques within the body, I coveted his cursed manipulation and these exact circumstances.” His eyes then land on you and a sinister smile is dancing on his lips.
“You,” he starts, taking one step forward towards you. “As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories, begged Gojo Satoru and Shoko Ieiri to not get rid of Geto Suguru’s body, am I right?”
As pathetic as you seem in this man’s memories.
You didn’t know what to react to first. His words felt like a thousand burning knives, each one stabbing you from a different side. You fight back the urge to jump on him, you know you’re at disadvantage because Satoru was bound to this prison realm.
“I did.” Your response is short and quick, and the man in front of you chuckles at how dry you sound.
“He loves you a lot, you know?” Kenjaku pauses for a second, and the time he takes before continuing makes you feel as though he was mocking you. “Always wished he could trade places with the strongest sorcerer. You two were close, it always nagged him.”
This wasn’t true. This could never be true because Satoru and Suguru were closer than ever. You don’t remember a single instance where you felt as though Suguru was jealous of his best friend. This man was trying to shatter you in hopes of trapping you the same way he trapped Gojo Satoru.
“How are you gonna let yourself get used like this, huh?” Satoru sounds enraged. “Tell me, Suguru!”  
You are just as shocked as Kenjaku when his neck twists, a sign of resistance when hearing Satoru’s loud yell. It was almost as if he heard him and wanted to wake up, to free himself of the man who was using his body to toy with the feelings of his loved ones. He then laughs, and again it sounds evil as he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Ha! No way! This is a first for me,” his eyes then fall on your frozen figure and by the look on his face, he was up to no good.
His hand makes its way towards you and wraps around your neck, you get that his intention was to choke you. But when his hand refuses to squeeze around your neck, the look on his face turns into an annoyed one. Kenjaku couldn’t hurt you, Suguru didn’t let him.
Unfortunately, he still had more control than the original soul occupying the body and his hand manages to grab your neck and push you up against the wall, knocking the wind out of your chest.
“You’re getting in the way.” No matter how hard Gojo tried to shift the attention back on him, Kenjaku seemed to want to get rid of you and as fast as possible. You find yourself thrown next to Satoru, tied up in similar bounds.
“Goodnight, my love.” His hand caresses your cheek, and you’re forced to feel his cold touch against your skin. You hear a smack and your cheek stings, teary eyes forced to stare into his cold ones when he roughly grabs your jaw.
“Let us meet in the new world.”
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2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
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seonghwaddict · 10 months
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say my name — song mingi
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request by anon. "This is my first request to anyone ever so forgive me if this is..idk incoherent 😭. But lately I've been thinking about a short smut story where the reader (fem) being a backup dancer for ATEEZ and Mingi catching feelings for her over time and then end up fucking in the dressing room and maybe one of the members walks in idk have fun with it. 🤭"
idol!song mingi x backup dancer!reader. genre. smut. warnings. smut below the cut, explicit sexual content minors dni, fingering, some dirty talk, use of petnames (doll, baby), slight dom/sub dynamics, dom!mingi, swearing, intentional lowercase. please let me know if i missed anything. wc. 1.2k.
lilo's notes. i'm back!! this is the first request i've received, hopefully i did it justice. by the time i finished writing i forgot that anonie asked it it's possible for another member to walk in and join.... sorry about that. but anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this!!
listening to. perceive by doma cyno.
masterlist
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“fuck, baby,” a hand swiped through your folds, gathering the almost embarrassing amount of arousal from your core. “you’re so wet.”
you like to think your day started off like every other day. you woke up at 7 am, ate breakfast, got ready for the day and arrived at kq two hours later. you went through some choreographies with the other backup dancers until 4 pm, left to run some errands, and then returned to practice some more on your own.
since your first day at the company only a few months ago, you’d always take a few hours after your shift to perfect your art more than you already have. sometimes you’d spend those hours with the other dancers who showed up for the same reason, but surprisingly, a lot of the time it was mingi who found himself practising his group’s or his own choreography alongside you.
the first few times felt awkward, to say the least.
you yourself weren’t really one to strike up conversations with random people, and considering he was part of the group you had to dance for, you were afraid of slipping up and losing your job. but, eventually, he talked to you. after that, things were easier—you’d joke around, take breaks to go eat something, help each other and sometimes even stop what you were working on to choreograph something together; just the two of you.
it was only a month or two later that you caught yourself looking at him in a less than friendly but rather heated way… and much to your surprise, you slowly started noticing his own lustful glances—lips red from biting them and hooded eyes tracking your every movement. but, alas, you weren’t one for first moves.
considering all of this, you weren’t surprised at the position you were currently in; on the floor of the practice room, legs hooked around his as you sat between them, mingi’s lips against the side of your neck, one arm around your waist and the other with his hand inside your panties (your shorts had been discarded long ago, along with his shirt) as he faced you to lthe mirror, forcing you to watch his every movement.
he swiped his middle finger through your folds, gathering some arousal and then slowly circling your swollen clit. a breathy whimper escaped your lips as you threw your head back on his shoulder. the combined sensation of his finger around your nub and his lips kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck sent another wave of wetness gushing out of you.
“eyes on the mirror, doll,” he moved his head up to whisper right into your ear with that husky voice of his, gently biting down on your earlobe. he removed his hand from your pussy for a moment, letting your legs down to slip your panties off before hooking them over his thighs again. you were practically dripping as he exposed you. “i want you to see what i’m doing, watch how your beautiful little body reacts to me.”
reluctantly, you nodded and pulled yourself off his shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the arousal smeared between your thighs. a moan escaped your lips as he gave your clit a particularly firm tug, his ring and middle finger pressed against the skin on either side of it and pinching gently. you tried holding back your following moans, but the quiver of your thighs gave you away. though, you felt better knowing you weren’t the only enjoying this so much, his erection strained against his pants and poked at your ass. 
his movements against your heat were slow but precise, eliciting pretty little whimpers and moans from you. the hand wrapped around the front of your waist moved up, featherlight touches leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he gently brushes his fingers over the fabric of your bra. then he nudge the straps down your shoulder and let the bra cups fall, his hand immediately going to tweak at your nipples. 
“f-fuck…” you cursed quietly, trying your best to stop your eyes from fluttering shirt from all the pleasure and keep your eyes on the mirror as he asked.
two of his large fingers circled your entrance, massaging it before slowly pushing in. jaw slack at the stinging stretch, you watched as they disappeared into your vagina, breath stuttering when he curved them just enough to brush against the right spot. your hand snaked it’s way behind his head, tugging on his hair gently.
“oh, look, doll,” you heard him groan behind you, feeling his smirk against your neck, “look at how well you take my fingers…”
and with that he slowly began pumping his fingers in and out of you, digits firmly pressing against the spongey spot inside you each time, increasing his speed more and more as his thumb continue circling your clit. he watched your face in the mirror, analysing each twitch of your muscles and each flutter of your lashes to perfectly adjust his movements. in any other context, you perhaps would’ve appreciated how perceptive he was. but right now you wanted nothing more than to savour the feeling of his fingers, anticipating how his cock would feel in you. 
before you knew it, the familiar knot of an orgasm began tightening in your abdomen, your body squirming.
“shit, mingi…” his name tumbled out of your mouth in a drawl and his movement stopped for a moment.l before he continued at a more rigorous pace. you could’ve sworn you felt his erection twitch behind you. 
“say that again,” he growled, “say my name.”
the rough scratch of his voice made you impossibly wetter as you obeyed quickly. “mingi, o-oh…”
after that it didn’t take much longer for you to snap, coming down hard on his fingers, muscles jerking and back arching as his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your noises.
“keep it down, baby, someone might walk in and see you at my mercy.”
he pulled his fingers out of you and caressed your thighs. it didn’t take to long for you to calm down from your high, chest heaving with deep breaths as he whispered praises in your ear. despite the fact you just had an orgasm, you knew you still wanted more.
“i-i need… i need you,” you tried, face flushed as you hinted the best you could.
“hm?” he chuckled. “and what exactly do you need of me?”
with a huff, you grinded yourself back against him, against his cock, but he moved his hands to grip your hips firmly and stop you. 
“that won’t do,” he shook his head. “i want you to use your words, doll. can you do that for me, baby?”
a moment of silence passed between you. it was awkward or anything, a teasing grin on his face as he looked you in the eyes through the mirror, your brows furrowed before you sighed.
“god, mingi, i need your cock in me.”
he grinned, hands tugging your shirt and bra off before sitting back on his knees and turning you around. mingi leaned over you, cupping your chin before kissing you with a bruising hardness. once he broke the kiss, a malicious spark shined in his sharp eyes.
“anything for my doll.”
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network. @cromernet
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 6 months
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I'll Be Home for Christmas - Bob
Pairing: Bob / Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only
Warnings: Some Crying and Slight Angst; No Physical Descriptions of Reader; Reader is a Teacher; Use of "You" but No Y/N
Summary: Bob promised you that he would be home for Christmas.
Master List
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Dating a naval aviator wasn’t easy. Bob's schedule was erratic and never usually worked in their favor. He could be in one place one day and a completely different continent the next or out in the middle of the ocean. And it wasn’t easy to communicate with him when he was deployed. Emails and letters were about all you could usually manage. 
For Bob, you would do it all over again to keep him in your life. But that didn’t make the holiday season any easier. 
Bob, along with the other Daggers, had been deployed for the last six months. Somewhere in the Pacific, that was all that you knew. He told you that they would be docking today and so you waited outside the school where you worked, anxiously waiting for his call. The call about whether or not he would be home in time for Christmas or not. 
Fiddling with the necklace that he bought you for your one year anniversary nearly three years ago now, you sucked in a breath when your phone started to ring. The photo of you and Bob on the hike you took on his birthday last year.
“Bobby?” you called softly, answering the call. 
“Hi, honey,” he returned, his voice sounding clearer than it usually did on these types of calls. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you,” you replied, smiling bashfully. “What about you?”
“Exhausted.”
“What time is it over there?”
“Pretty late.”
“Well, thanks for staying up to talk to me,” you stated, a bit concerned about Bob. He was uncharacteristically short with his sentences. “How’s Phoenix and the boys?” 
“We’re all good.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Did you get the care package that I sent you?” you asked softly, fiddling with your necklace.
“Oh, yeah, I did, Honey. Thank you for sending it.” 
“Did you send a video over to Leslie? She was putting a movie together for the kids.” 
“Yeah, I did, Honey. She’s got it.” 
“Thank you for doing that. The kids will really appreciate it.” After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, you asked, “Are you okay, Bobby?”
“I’m fine,” Bob replied, his voice cracking a bit. 
“Bobby.”
“Honey, I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“I'm not sure that I’ll make it home in time for Christmas,” Bob revealed, causing your heart to shatter in your chest. 
“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s not your fault. There’s always other holidays.”
“I’m so sorry, Honey. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
“Don’t worry about me. Just focus on coming home safely. Whenever that is.”
“I will. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. And I really miss you,” you replied, your voice breaking at the end. 
“I really miss you too. And I’m so sorry, Honey.”
“Stop apologizing, Bobby. Just come home safe and that’s good enough for me. I love you.”
“I love you too. Bye, Honey.”
“Bye, Bobby.”
Hanging up the phone, you sniffled and wiped your tears away. You let out a steadying breath, trying to calm yourself down, before grabbing your bags and heading inside the elementary school where you worked. 
It was the last day of school before Christmas Break and so, it was your class’s Christmas party. You got to school early to set up, but now you might need to use the time to gather yourself. Opening the cabinet, you smiled sadly at the photos of Bobby that you put up. Hanging up your coat, you wiped your tears away and quickly moved to start setting up. 
~~~~~
Meanwhile, just a few miles away from your school, Bob was holding his head in his hands, looking like he was going to be sick. The other Daggers were gathered around him, all having returned home just a short while earlier. 
“He’s this beat up about it?” Hangman sighed, leaning on the car. “All he did was a little lie.”
“It’s a wonder that you’re still single,” Phoenix replied dryly, shooting him a look. 
“I made her cry,” Bob whispered out quietly as Fanboy patted his back. 
“She’ll get through it, Bob. And you only had to lie to her for a couple hours,” Fanboy reasoned, motioning for the other Daggers to speak up. 
“She’ll forget all about it once she sees you,” Phoenix replied, looping her arm under Bob’s and pulling him to his feet. “Now,  come on, we’ve got some shit to do before the big reveal.”
~~~~~
“One, two, three, eyes on me!” you called, clapping on the numbers and then pointing at yourself. When you saw that all of the kids were looking at you, you added, “Alright, do you guys remember when we made those care boxes? For the service men and women?” 
Various kids shouted out that they did remember, causing you to nod and smile. Since you worked in a Navy town, many of the kids in your class had parents or other family members in the Navy. The care packages had been a personal project that you decided to bring to your class, since you knew that a lot of the kids would be in a similar position as you—wishing that someone that they loved so much came home for Christmas. 
“Alright, well, Ms. Sullivan put together a video of them opening the boxes that we put together. So, if everyone could sit in their seats quietly, we’ll start the movie.”
You dimmed the lights before the video started up and slowly sat in your seat, waiting for Bob’s video to pop up. Kids in your class would yell out when they saw their family member, which made your heart both swell and break at the same time. The video continued on until Bob’s familiar face appeared on the screen. 
“Hi, everyone,” he called, waving to your class. 
“It’s Mr. Bob!” one of your kiddos yelled out. 
“Yeah, it’s Mr. Bob,” you mumbled sadly before you paused, frowning slightly as you examined the video more closely. “Is that the cafeteria?”
“What?” Ms. Sullivan asked, trying to hide her smile. 
“That’s the cafeteria,” you stated, getting to your feet. 
Walking up to the screen, you scrutinized the image of your boyfriend as he pulled out the items from the box, including ones that you definitely didn’t put there. Confused, you turned to Ms. Sullivan when the door opened and the lights turned back on. 
Looking at the door, you spotted Bob standing there in his flight suit, beaming at you with such a loving smile that your knees wobbled. Choking out a sob, you sprinted over to your boyfriend, causing your kiddos to scream and cheer. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing tears of joy as he pulled you to his chest. 
“It’s Mr. Bob!”
“He came from the video!”
“What are you doing here?” you cried, fisting the back of his flight suit. “I thought that you couldn’t come home.”
“I’m sorry, Honey, but I lied. Can you forgive me?” Bob asked, rocking you back and forth. 
“Of course, I forgive you,” you choked out as Bob wiped your tears away. You snuck a chaste kiss before straightening up. “I love you so much, Bobby.”
“I love you too, Honey. And I’m really relieved that you forgave me because otherwise this would be really awkward.”
“What are you . . .”
You held a hand to your mouth as Bob slowly got down onto one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket, causing your kiddos screams to reach new heights. Bob opened the box and you swore you almost fell to your knees. He looked at you with those big blueberry blue eyes, which were filled with so much love and devotion.
“Will you marry me, Honey?”
“Say ‘yes’!”
“You have to say ‘yes’!”
“Of course, I’ll marry you, Bobby,” you replied softly.
He stood up and you pulled him in for another chaste kiss that promised more when there weren’t thirty-five six-year-olds staring at you. He slid the ring onto your finger, where it would stay forever. Turning to your kiddos, you laughed and tried to wipe your tears away as they raced towards you guys. Bob squatted down again, accepting high fives and a few hugs, which only made you fall more in love with him. 
As if that was even possible. 
School was released shortly afterwards and after cleaning up the Christmas decorations and Bob hauling stuff out, the two of you walked out to your car. The Daggers told you that everyone would celebrate your engagement tomorrow, but tonight, it was just you and Bobby. 
“I told you that I’d be home for Christmas,” Bob replied, opening your door for you. 
“You did,” you agreed, pressing a less appropriate kiss to his lips. “And I think that the only time you’ve ever successfully lied to me.”
“And the last,” Bob promised, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas, Honey.”
“Merry Christmas, Bobby.”
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allysunny · 6 months
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Guiding Lights | Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader
Synopsys: Nanami barely acknowledges you once he gets home. It's late and you've been waiting for hours. Again. Lately, it's all you seem to do for your husband. Wait, while he arrives home later and later. You decide to confront him about it, and things escalate.
Words: 6.5k
Warnings: Angst, heavy angst. Like, super angsty. Arguments and yelling, mentions of cheating, neglect and death. A very tired Nanami who's overworking himself. Angst with comfort, angst to fluff. Very happy and cheesy ending. Hopefully not OOC Nanami. Do let me know if I forgot something!
A/N: Hey guys!!! Oh my god I have been working on this fic for quite a while hahaha! I started it a few months ago, but then you guys started sending in your (lovely) requests, and it sort of got lost in my drafts. But I really wanted to get it done, so I focused on it again. Also, I'm terrible at summaries, I'm so sorry!! </3
I think this is my Magnum Opus so far. I really like how it turned out. I love my man Nanami, and I love angst (lol obviously), and I've always thought about this specific scenario. This is sort of like, the fic I've always wanted to read, you know? A "fine, I'll do it myself" fic, if you will, hahaha!
Well, I hope you enjoy reading it!! I certainly had a blast writing it <3
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The door to your apartment closed as softly as it opened, and if you weren’t so intent on confronting the man who had just walked through it, you wouldn’t have heard the sound.
Looking up from the show you were watching and just paused, you take your husband in. He’s clearly seen better days. Shirt and tie slightly dishevelled, hair askew, large bags under his tired eyes. There is a big cut ripping his suit, and a smaller one on his jaw. 
“I’m home.” Nanami mumbled, taking said jacket off and placing it on top of the couch.
“Hey,” You replied, unsure of what exactly to say. You’d been awake for hours now, patiently waiting for him to come back, but now that he’s standing in front of you, you don’t know what to tell him.
You must’ve not thought things through, because instead of keeping quiet and letting this man enjoy some peace and quiet (something he seemed to lack), you decide to speak your mind.
“You’re late.”
Nanami sighed. He does not dare to meet your eye, instead making his way towards your kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. “There was a curse that needed to be exorcised. I was closer to the location, so they sent me.”
“You could’ve called.” He hadn’t even kissed you. Just walked straight to the kitchen, barely acknowledging you. “I was worried.”
“Well, I was busy.” Nanami put his glass down and rubbed his forehead. He looked drained. The sharp edges of his face look like they could cut your fingers, should you touch him. The exhaustion was piling over him, and it was clear to see.
You didn’t wish to push his buttons – God knows how hard his work as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was. But it’s not fair for him to leave for hours on end without telling you his location. You don’t want to control him, nor keep tabs on him all the time; you just want to make sure he is safe and doing okay.
You just want to make sure your husband will return to you and your son at the end of the day.
“And you couldn’t have spared me a minute? Just a text would’ve been fine.” You said, standing up and walking to him. Too busy to call? It would take him less than a minute to tell you he was safe.
“[Y/N], I didn’t have the time to call you.” Now he looked at you. Those beautiful hazel eyes which usually regarded you with affection and care, looked fatigued and weary. These eyes belong to a man who has seen too much, a man who is in desperate need of rest. But no matter how much you tried to coerce him into taking a break, he wouldn’t have any of it.
Ever since you had your son, he was more intent than ever on working and making sure curses were exorcised as soon as they appeared. All to keep your bundle of joy safe, to make sure he grew up in a better world. But lately, it seemed like he was stretching himself too thin, taking on every single mission, arriving home later and later.
“I was worried sick. You look hurt.” Nanami looked away once more when you approached him. Just as you were about to raise your hand and inspect his jaw, he turned away from you.
“I’m fine. You should go to sleep. It’s late.” His voice was almost devoid of any emotion. Is this what Jujutsu Sorcery did to people? Wear them down, strip them of their humanity and emotions until they were but a vessel of what they had once been?
When you first started dating, Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. He’d get home on time, every single day, just so he wouldn’t keep you waiting. He’d treat you like you were precious, because to him, you were. And now it seemed like he was perpetually tired, like there was something holding him back from the sweet man he had once been. You suspected he hadn’t held your son in a few days. Nanami always stopped by Haibara’s room before he went to sleep, just to watch his slow breathing and make sure all was well. But it had been weeks since you had seen him hold his child.
“Kento, you’re not fine. Just… Stop pushing me away. Please.” You reached out to touch his arm, and he shakes it away.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, but it’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.” How could he be so careless about his health? Was he not aware of the family waiting for him at home?
You shake your head. You really didn’t want to do this. Not today. Not now. You’re tired – Haibara had been fussy all day, asking for “papa”, and there was nothing you could do to soothe him. And your husband looked tired too. Let’s not do this today. Not now. Go to bed, you thought. Go to bed.
Unfortunately, your mouth was quicker.
“Oh, yeah? Well, when’s it gonna be enough?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a scratch. Well, yesterday was just a scratch as well. So was the day before. And the day before that. Is tomorrow going to be just a scratch as well?” Your voice was rising, and you were fighting hard to keep the tears away. “It’s always justa scratch. When is it going to be enough for you to stop? When’s it going to stop being just a scratch? Huh? When you break an arm?”
“[Y/N].”
“When you lose a limb?”
“[Y/N].”
“When you lose your life?!” You tightened the grip you had around your body, using your arms as a shield against the despair and hopelessness you felt. You seemed to have stunned your husband into silence. Nanami breathed softly, looking at the floor. “When is it going to be enough for you?”
“I’m doing this for your sake.” He mumbled softly. 
“Maybe you were, once. But not anymore. No, you’re doing this for yourself.” 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Now it was your husband’s turn to raise his voice ever so slightly. His fists were clenched by his side, and his shoulders moved in sync with his breathing. “I’m out there, every night, doing this for you. For our son, for our family.” 
“No, you’re not!” 
“Yes, I am! If I’m out there, exorcising those disgusting creatures, it’s because I want our son to grow up in a safer world! I don’t want him to live in fear, I want him to be safe. And that’s exactly what I do.” 
“You say you care about your son, but you haven’t seen him in days.” You scoffed and shook your head. How could he say such things when you knew damn well he hadn’t even seen him? Let alone hold him or play with him. And the lack of attention from his father was clearly taking a toll on Haibara, who cried and cried, eyes anxiously looking for the tall figure he learned to associate with comfort. Not that he didn’t like you - you were his mother, and arguably, the only person he truly knew, but a baby boy needs his father, and Haibara didn’t seem to have his. 
You stare at your husband, noticing how time has changed him. The once gentle features have turned knifelike, his eyebags have become wide and deep, his eyes perpetually tired behind the fatiguing-looking glasses. What could possibly be more important than his family?
An unsettling feeling starts pooling in your stomach. You’ve tried not to entertain this idea for long - hell, you couldn’t think about it without becoming nauseous. Because he would never, would he? He’s your husband. The father of your child. Meeting another woman behind your back is clearly unthinkable, right?
The voice in your head that you’ve been trying to quiet down this whole time gets louder and louder. Ask him, it says, ask him and find out the truth. You deserve to know it, you’re his wife. What if he’s hiding something? Ask him. 
You want to trust your husband. You really do. You love him and always have and always will. But your mind is playing tricks on you, the weariness of the day and lack of comfort from this very same man messing with your brain. 
“Is it someone else?” You ask, feeling braver than you felt.
“What!?” he looked at you, eyes wide in surprise. As if what you’d ask was completely preposterous (to him, it was). 
“Have you been seeing someone else, Kento? Is that why you’re not home?” You were sounding surprisingly calm for a woman accusing her husband of cheating on her. 
Your husband shook his head vigorously, looking you in the eye. 
“I’m not. I haven’t been seeing anyone else.” You got a glimpse at your Nanami, the one who’s caring and sweet, the one who holds you when you cry and talks softly when you’re overwhelmed. You see him right now, in the way he assures you there’s no one else. 
“You’re not home. You arrive late, leave at the crack of dawn. Don’t hold our son, don’t touch me. Is this why? Do you have someone else? Do you love someone else?”
“[Y/N], I told you, there is no one else. I’m not seeing anyone,” he sighed, signalling his own exhaustion (as if it wasn’t evident by the way it clung to his face, body, and soul). “I’ve just been busy.” Nanami repeated, turning away from you, to place his glass in the sink.
“Too busy to see your own son?” 
“I told you, I’ve been busy, [Y/N].”
“He’s your son!” 
“This is my job - “
“We’re your family!” 
“Well, you can’t expect me to stay home all the time and cater to your every whim, can you?” Nanami had never yelled. Never in your time together you’d heard him raise his voice at anyone, let alone you. But the man before you couldn’t be your husband because he’d done just that.
“I’m not asking you to stay home and cater to my every whim!” Tears clouded your vision, and you stuttered pathetically, still trying to hold your ground. “I’m just asking you to be more considerate!” The more you spoke, the more you stuttered, the more your tears fell. Nanami, your sweet Nanami, your caring and loving husband would’ve never allowed this years ago. He’d have embraced you and kissed your forehead and wiped your tears. The man before you has no intention of doing that. 
“I have a job to do, [Y/N], I have a duty, I made a promise -” 
“You made a promise to me when we got married!” You wiped your tears away. Or tried to - they wouldn’t stop coming, big lousy tears that ran down your cheeks and made you feel even more miserable. “You made a promise to our son when he was born! And now look at you - you haven’t held him in days!” 
“He’s a baby, [Y/N]. He won’t die from lack of affection from me. God damn it, he won’t even remember it! You’re making a big deal out of nothing!” 
“You say that because you don’t spend time with him! I’m not making a big deal out of nothing; I’m telling you you’re neglecting your son!” 
“[Y/N], he’s a baby!”
“He misses his father!” Now it was you yelling, sleep and rest long forgotten. No, right now, all you wanted was to get to the bottom of this, to once and for all make your husband see reason. “He cries for you because he misses you! I miss you! Your family misses you terribly and all you’re doing is pushing us away!” 
An ear-piercing cry erupted from the monitor next to you. Hell, you probably didn’t even need the monitor. Haibara’s cries were loud and heart wrenching, and you snapped out of your rage fuelled trance as soon as you heard them. 
“Haibara,” you whispered, pushing past your husband and all but flying upstairs. You opened the door to your son’s nursery, and maternal instinct took over as you made your way towards his crib and picked him up. His tiny fists were clenched, and he waved his arms and legs around, crying his little heart out. 
“Shhhh, shhhh…” You cooed softly, taking him in your arms and pressing soft kisses against his forehead. “Mommy’s sorry, my love… Mommy was yelling, wasn’t she? She’s sorry… It won’t happen again my darling, I promise… I’m so sorry…” You cried, cradling his little body against yours.
Upon hearing your voice, his cries subsided, and the baby looked up at you with teary eyes, hands coming up to touch your wet cheeks. 
“Mama?” He asked in that tiny voice of his.
“Yes, my love, mama’s right here. I’m sorry. Mama was yelling, it must’ve been so scary.” You wiped his tears, kissing the top of his head. 
“Mama,” he said again, tapping his hands on your face once more, as if making sure you were there.
“Yes baby, mama’s here. Mama’s right here.”
“Papa?” Haibara looked around, and his lips turned into a pout once more. “Papa?” 
“I’m sorry, my love. Papa’s busy. He’s working hard to keep us safe,” Please don’t cry again, you thought, go to sleep baby, just go to sleep. Mommy needs rest too, especially after today. 
“Papa? Papa?” His cries became more insistent, and you tried your best not to burst into tears again. You felt like a failure. A failure of a wife, a failure of a mother. You felt like the home you tried too hard to build and cherish and fill with love was crumbling apart. 
“Go to sleep baby, okay? Papa’s busy, but he’ll see you some other time. Right now, he needs to rest because he’s been working so hard… And so do you, baby. Just get some rest, alright? Please.”
You sniffled a few times, singing and talking to him slowly, the way you knew calmed him down. “I’m so sorry for yelling honey, so, so sorry… It won’t happen again… How scary it must’ve been for you… It’s alright now, see? Mommy’s here, she won’t yell anymore…” 
You rocked Haibara and placed him so he was lying down in your arms. He looked at you first with a confused gaze, then with a small smile, and finally with a sleepy expression. Your sweet baby boy, who was all furrowed brown and blonde locks of hair, exactly like his father. Your sweet, sweet son, who’d babble in excitement when you twirled him around the living room and danced around as soft music played and knocked his head against yours in a loving gesture. He was your one weakness. You’d do anything for him. 
The love you have for this child is stronger than words can communicate, and you wonder how Nanami can possibly ignore him as easily as he does. 
You rocked Haibara some more, humming a tune you knew he liked. Once you turned around, you spotted Nanami leaning against the door, staring at the both of you in a mix of awe, hurt and sadness.
You returned his gaze, unsure of what to say. 
What even was there to say? 
The life you’d so lovingly built for yourselves seemed to have come crashing down, until all that was left were broken pieces.
Nanami approached you two, with slow heavy steps. Once you managed to get a good look at his face, something inside you broke. 
Nanami was crying. 
Big, silent tears rolled down his cleverly sculpted cheeks, and his eyes drifted to the sleepy baby in your arms. 
And then he did something neither of you were expecting. 
He sobbed. 
Loudly. 
So loud, little Haibara stirred in your arms, looking over to the source of the sound. 
His face twisted in confusion, and his pouty lips parted to utter a single word. 
“Papa,” he babbled, hand pointing in his direction. “Papa. Papa. Papa.” Haibara mumbled over and over again, arms flailing in Nanami’s direction. He twisted his whole body, muttering “Papa” and whining loudly.
“Haibara,” Nanami whispered, hands coming up to cradle his son - an adorable sight, really. Your husband, with his big, strong hands, handling a tiny baby with the utmost care. He held Haibara straight, and cried once the baby knocked his head against his, gurgling in excitement and flailing his arms around. 
“Papa!” If your son was or had been sleepy, he didn’t show it, instead babbling a single word repeatedly, hands either coming up to touch his father’s face, waving around, or clapping. “Papa!” 
You wondered how long it had been since Nanami had held him. It was clear Haibara missed him, and although the sight before you was heartwarming, it still hurt that, for this to happen, Nanami had to ignore his child. 
“My son,” Nanami cradled Haibara carefully, leaning his forehead against the baby’s. “My sweet, sweet son. I have been such an idiot. I’m so sorry…” He kept on sobbing, kissing Haibara all over his face, head, and hands, as if trying to convey his regret in some way. “I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.” 
It was both heartbreaking and heart enriching. There he was, your husband, finally holding his son, finally apologising, finally making amends. You knew him to be telling the truth. Nanami might be stoic and cold on the outside, but you got to him. You knew him, inside and out. You could tell when he was genuine, and, well, he’d never been more genuine than now. 
Nanami turned to look at you, eyes still puffy from the tears. He shook his head once, then twice, then turned to face his son once again. 
“I’m so sorry… I’ve been neglecting you all this time… My family, my own family… I promised to take care of you…” This confession only made him sob louder. Your son quickly picked up on the atmosphere because he too started pouting, and expressing his discomfort through sounds. 
“Oh -” Nanami was quick to change the baby’s position, making him lie down on his arms. “Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s fine now, alright? Why don’t you go to sleep and give your mother some rest?” 
“Papa,” Haibara blinked his eyes once and reached up to touch his father’s face. Nanami smiled, holding his son’s little hand in his, pressing a soft kiss against it. 
“That’s right. Papa. Papa’s here.” 
“Pa - pa,” Your son was interrupted by a big yawn. He blinked at his father once again, and quickly turned around, snuggling against his arms and chest. 
There was something about tall and strong 7 to 3 sorcerer Nanami Kento melt while holding a tiny baby in his arms that made you chuckle. You wiped your tears and watched as your husband kissed your son’s forehead one last time, before putting him down on his crib once again.
Nanami made sure to check Haibara’s crib, gazing at him with that adoring look in his eyes, before exiting the room. You did the same and did not need to be told twice - you followed your husband, who was already in your shared bedroom, sitting on his side of the bed and facing the wall. 
Leaning against the doorframe, you stared at him. 
None of you wanted to break the small bubble you’d been immersed in. Although you hadn’t spoken with each other, the last few minutes with Haibara had spoken volumes. It was as if the ocean of hurt and neglect had been breached by the child who was a careful mix of the two. 
And yet, it still hurt to address the elephant in the room. 
You’d hated yelling at Nanami. You’d never done it. And he’d never yelled at you. Not even towards his most eccentric and insufferable coworkers, Nanami dared to yell. He believed arguments and misunderstandings could be solved without raising one’s voice. But he’d gone and done the one thing he promised never to do.
It was Nanami who, after what seemed like an eternity, reached across the ocean. 
“I’ve lost my focus,” he said, still staring at the wall. “I’ve gone and ruined the one good thing in my life.” 
All you could do was listen. You’d waited too long to hear these words. 
“The truth is, I’m scared.” There it was again, that vulnerability in his voice, that softness and truth that reminded you your sweet husband too was human. “I’ve been scared ever since Haibara was born. I want to make the world a better place for him. I don’t want him to grow up surrounded by curses, always looking over his shoulder in fear…” He clenched his fists, only this time, the anger wasn’t directed towards you. 
“I thought if only I worked hard… If only I worked all these extra hours, I'd be making a difference. I’d be protecting my family.” 
You had no control over your body, but it didn’t matter. Your heart would always follow Nanami Kento, and right now, it was telling you to go to him. You stood near the bed, just a few feet away from his sitting figure. 
“You are protecting your family,” you said, just as softly as him. 
“No - no, I’m not. What if something happens while I’m gone? What if I’m not home, and someone gets to you first?” Nanami sighed, voice laced with fear. You could tell he was close to tears once again. “I’ve been so busy trying to take on each and every mission, I forgot to protect my family in the most important way - next to them.” 
You remained silent. 
There was nothing you could come up with. He was right. Those were your words and your thoughts. Then why was it that when they were finally uttered, you felt sadness rather than happiness or relief? It pained to see your husband hurting. 
You sat down next to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, an encouraging gesture. 
“I miss you…” he continued, tears now running freely. “I miss you two so much… Haibara… Haibara’s growing up without a father… And it’s all my fault…” Hunching over his knees, Nanami took his face in his hands, crying silently. “And you, my love - you’ve been here all this time, working so hard to keep our family together, and I was too blind to appreciate it… I’m so sorry…” 
He then looked at you, and you saw years of your relationship fly by. 
In his eyes, you saw your first meeting. You saw the day he bought you coffee for the first time. Satoru playing matchmaker. You saw your first date, full of nervousness and a fleeting kiss that lasted no longer than a few seconds but was enough to leave you both flustered and breathless. You saw the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, a bouquet of bright pink camelias in his hand. Him holding you close after you’d loved each other for the first time, hands tracing patterns on your back, whispering words of appreciation and love in your ear. 
You saw your wedding day, the first dance you two shared and how he smiled like a fool despite all the teasing from Satoru and his students. You saw him carry box after box, unpacking items and decorating what would later become your loving home. You saw the way he cried in your arms when you showed him the positive pregnancy test, and how he kneeled before you to kiss your stomach. 
You saw him holding your hair back while you puked, always so attentive, making sure you were fine. Him massaging your feet, rubbing your legs and preparing you meals according to your cravings. You saw him hold Haibara for the first time, hazel eyes ever the softest. You saw him sleep with your baby the first few weeks to ensure you had enough rest. 
You watched as he got up earlier and earlier each morning, some of them even going as far as to forget to kiss you goodbye. You saw him arrive later and later, claiming he was “too tired” to eat with you, “too busy” to see your son. 
You saw all of this in a span of just a few seconds. You saw all the love, the regret, the hurt, the pain, the happiness and desire, all of it. You saw the life you had carved together, the house decorated to your and his liking, the way it just felt like home, and lately felt like anything but.
Nanami left the bed and knelt before you, eyes still watery. 
“I’m so sorry,” he started. “I’ve been a neglectful husband. I’ve been taking you and our son for granted.” Slowly, he took your hands in his. You allow him, having missed his warmth, his comfort. “Will you forgive me?”
That was the question. 
Would you?
Could you? 
“You don’t have to answer me right now,” he shook his head, thumbs circling your palms affectionately. “You can take all the time you want. You can think about it, make me suffer all you want - hell, I deserve it, after all that I put you through. Just… think about it. Please. Even if you never forgive me, just know that I am so, so sorry for all the suffering I caused you. I’ve been such a terrible husband…” 
HIs cries don’t seem to subside, and he lays his head on top of your hands. 
It breaks you to see your husband like this. No matter how much you were hurting, no matter how much you missed him and his absence broke you inside, you never wanted to see him hurting.
Instinctively, your hands flew to his hair, caressing it softly, massaging his scalp like you always did during lazy Saturday mornings, when he’s clingy and needy after having worshiped your body thoroughly, or during Sunday afternoons, when you watched your son play with his toys in the garden. 
Nanami’s shoulders sagged, and he rested his head fully on your legs.
You think about what he said. 
Forgiveness. 
Could you ever forgive you husband after all the pain he’s caused? 
After the late nights spent with dread, fearing the worst, after the early mornings devoid of any affection and love, after the distant weekends and inexistent holidays?
But even as you thought this over, your heart had already decided for you. 
You’d walk to the end of the earth for Nanami Kento. And you were sure he’d do the same. 
Delicate hands are placed on the sides of his face, and your husband looked up, a pained expression in his eyes. 
“I love you,” you whispered, hoping that somehow, someway, these three little words would convey just how deep your adoration for this man goes. “Of course I’ll forgive you, Kento.” 
His chocolate brown eyes seem to sparkle, and he holds his head higher. 
“What?”
“I love you. We can fix this. I know we can.” 
“Yes - [Y/N], yes. We can. I can. I will. I promise you.” Kento placed his hands on top of yours, holding them gently. After all, he’s holding the entire world in his hands. 
And although you just want to skip to the good part, you shake your head, interrupting him before he can get too excited. 
“But,” you began, “You need to change. This needs to change, Kento. I… I can’t raise a child on my own. I can’t nurture a home all by myself.”
“Yes - yes, you’re right. My love, I’m so sorry.”
“I won’t ask you to give up Jujutsu Sorcery.”
At this, he seems to tense a bit. You knew how important your husband’s job was to him. After all, he was keeping people safe, making the world a better place. It was terrifying, but it made him happy, and that’s all you could ask for. 
“Just… Be more careful.” These words are uttered with the utmost softness, in fear of breaking the little trance you were in. “You have a wife waiting at home for you. A son. Your family needs you. And I know you’re making a difference out there, but we also need you here. With us.”
“And if some day, you do end up working overtime, just… Please say something. Just to let me know. I don’t want to know your whereabouts all the time, I don’t want to control you. I just need to know you’re safe.”
Nanami nodded. Eagerly. It was as if you’d just told him you would gift him his weight in gold three times. In fact, you’d given him something better than that. Your love. Your forgiveness. To Nanami, getting you back, winning your trust again, that’s what truly mattered. 
“Thank you.” He kissed your hands. “I will. I promise, I’ll change. I’ll be a better husband for you, and a better father to Haibara. My love… My sweet wife, the love of my life… I can’t believe I took you for granted. I was so worried about failing you, I forgot what was truly important. My family.”
“Kento,” you said, shaking your head. Your eyes filled with tears once again. “You have never disappointed us. You will never fail us.”
“If I didn’t work hard enough to clear the world of curses, I would. If I don’t make a difference, I’m letting you two down. I want to protect you. I don’t want to lose you like I lost…” Nanami was unable to finish his sentence. You knew he still felt responsible for the death of his friend. Too responsible. When you suggested naming your son after his best friend, he’d choked up and cried. It is a beautiful tribute, he’d tell you later. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“Nonsense.” You spread your legs and pulled him by his face. Nanami quickly got the hint and stood in between them, facing you directly. “You are making a difference, Nanami Kento. You’re making the world a better place. Haibara and I are so proud of you.”
Nanami wept, and you wept with him. He leaned his forehead against yours, and you cried together, not sure of where his tears ended and yours began. You closed your eyes, hands still on his cheeks. 
“I’ve been such a terrible husband. Such a terrible father.”
“It will get better. Promise me you will be better.”
“I will. I promise. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s in the past now, Kento. Let’s focus on the future. Please.”
“I’ll make it better. Cross my heart, [Y/N], I will. I’ll start right damn now, by doing something I haven’t done in a long time.”
Nanami took your chin in his hand, angling you towards him. Then, he leaned forward, kissing you softly. You let out a noise of contentment and kissed him back, hands pulling his face impossibly closer. It’d been a while since he’d touched you, let alone kissed you. You missed this. You missed him. 
You kissed him with the hunger of a starved woman, and he kissed you with all the regret he had. You poured all your sorrow into this kiss, while he tried to communicate just how much he loved you. Your tongues moved in sync, and the kiss felt like home. 
When you eventually parted for air, Nanami opened his eyes, taking you in. Eyes red from the tears, cheeks puffy, lips plump and swollen. He hated seeing you in pain but thought himself deserving of torture for making you suffer this much. 
“I missed you,” he whispered, kissing your lips again, this time quicker. 
“I missed you too,” you replied with what looked like a hint of a smile. You hadn’t smiled in a while. Nanami knew this and chastised himself mentally. Never again would you suffer like him. And never again would he be the cause of your pain. 
“I’m taking the rest of the week off,” he mumbled, staring into your eyes. He’d almost forgotten how they had the loveliest of colours. In fact, they’d become his favourite shade. Waking up to those gorgeous eyes of yours had once been his greatest joy in life. He would make sure to make it a priority once again. “Damn it, I’ll take the whole month off. We’ll spend some time together. Just you, me, and Haibara. How does that sound?”
You giggled. And how lovely was the sound of your laughter.
“That sounds perfect. I’d love that very much. I think Haibara would too.” 
“Yeah? You think so?”
“I know so. He’s been missing you too much. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to spend some time with Papa.” 
“Well, I am ecstatic to spend some time with my little one. And my beautiful wife as well.” This one earned a bigger smile from you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, crashing your lips onto his with vigour. 
Nanami chuckled against your lips, and parted from you, getting up and extending his hand towards you. When you cast him a confused look, he nudged his head towards the en-suite bathroom. 
“I need to wash the day off me. Will you join me? Please?” 
And how could you refuse when he asked you so nicely?
The bath was by far the most relaxing time you’d had the past few months. You sat with your back against Nanami’s chest, and felt the tension leave your body as he lovingly massaged your shoulders and back, placing kisses along the line of your neck. 
You washed his hair, massaging his scalp and putting his hair up in all sorts of weird shapes, earning a few smiles from him. 
You kissed him with slow languid kisses, caressing his jaw, shedding a few tears of happiness, sadness, sorrow. He replied tenfold, whispering words of adoration against your lips. 
It wasn’t sexual or lustful. 
It was caring, slow, loving. It was a man showering his life with love, showing her he cared, showing her he loved and cherished her, and would never again take her for granted. 
Once you two had rinsed off and dried yourselves with towels, Nanami gently applied body lotion in your body, kissing the spots he’d covered in hydrating cream. 
“You smell nice,” he mumbled against his skin. 
He carried you to bed, lying you down and scooting over to you. How you’d missed being held by the man you loved. How you’d missed his weight next to yours, his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You turned to him, nuzzling his torso with your nose, placing your hand on top of his chest. You could feel his heartbeat and relished in it. It meant he was alive. He wasn’t dead in some ditch, all alone and away from his family. He was right there next to you, safe and sound. 
“I’m sorry for getting lost.” You heard Nanami whisper a few moments later, when the world is quiet and dark, when you two were the only souls still awake.
“You’re back now. You came back to us. Thank you for coming back.” You kissed his pectoral, and he kissed your forehead. An exchange. 
“I won’t get lost again. I promise. Not as long as I have you to guide me. You’re my light, [Y/N]. My guiding light. You and Haibara. I love you two so, so much. I would do anything for you. My family.” 
“We love you too. We’re so glad you’re back.”
“And I’m here to stay. I really am. Tomorrow’s going to be all about you two, I promise. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I said Haibara wouldn’t remember. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was tired. I know that’s not really an excuse, but I promise to make up for that behaviour.”
This is what you loved most about your husband. He was down to earth. He recognised his flaws and worked on them. Whenever he made a mistake, he made sure to apologize for it. Your arguments in the past (although small and dumb compared to today) had never gone unresolved, with calmness and willingness to listen from both parties. You could count on your husband to be the respectful diplomat.
You looked up at him. He had his brows furrowed, the way he always did when he was thinking, the way you’d seen your son do once or twice. He was the spitting image of his father.
“I know,” you said, caressing his jaw. “I’m sorry too. For yelling. For saying all those things. Saying you didn’t care about us. I know you do. You’ve been busy, but –“
“No.” Nanami interrupted you. “Don’t that. Don’t say it’s not my fault. I appreciate your apology, and I understand what you mean. But you were right. I mean, I do care.  You know I do. But I lost sight of what truly mattered.” The cadence of his voice soothed you, and your eyes got heavier as each second went by.
“I was actually going to say, ‘You’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse to brush off your family’. Oh no, Mister, you aren’t getting off the hook so easily.”
Nanami chuckled and kissed your forehead once again.
“You’d never let me, I know.”
A few silent moments went by, with only the sounds of your and Nanami’s soft breathings signalling your presence.
“[Y/N]?” It was quietly ushered, and you’d miss it if you weren’t so connected to this man.
“Yeah?” you replied, just as quietly. It was such a fragile moment. Better not to speak too loudly in order not to break it.
“I love you.”
You smiled.
“I love you too.”
He heard the smile in your voice, and it made him smile too.
“You’re the love of my life.”
“You’re the love of my life as well.”
More silence.
Followed by your husband, again.
“I love our family.”
“I love our family too.”
You snuggled closer, inhaling his scent. It was intoxicating. Musky and manly, and it made you swoon every time. Great choice in body wash – a choice made by you.
“Are you smelling me?” Nanami chuckled, his eyes too closing.
“You smell really good.” Now you were the mumbling one. Nanami had to work really hard to understand what you were saying.
Perhaps the night had run its course.
“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, placing one last kiss on top of your head.
“Night night, ‘Nami…”
You fell asleep in your husband’s arms with a content smile, and a full heart, and Nanami refused to let you go.
He’d lost focus, been to hell and back, too afraid to let his family down.
But as he held half of his world in his arms (and lovingly thought about the other half, comfortably tucked in his crib), Nanami felt blessed. He’d gotten incredibly lucky, with an amazing woman who loved him for who he was and always made sure to remind him of that, and a son who inspired him to be a better man every day that went by.
As he thought about how wonderful his life was, Nanami smiled.
You and Haibara, his guiding lights.
He would never get lost again.
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A/N: That's it! Whew!!! Well, once again, I really hope you guys liked it! I loved writing it - Nanami and angst might be my favourite combination, hahaha. Or anyone and angst. I just really like the feels. Anyway, I hope you guys have an amazing day!
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flowerbetweenfangs · 2 months
Text
Marked By the Moon: Part One
CW: Dubcon due to heat/breeding. Originally posted on A03.
An oldie, but one of my favorites.
Buzzing shook the nightstand. Bluelight pierced through the blackness, making it impossible to ignore. 
Reaching forward, Carmen groped across the polished wood, then seized her phone. Sitting up on her bed, she pressed the glowing screen to her ear. Sleep clogged her throat and eyes as she grunted out a greeting. 
It was just after four in the morning. She knew better than to say “Someone better be dying”, because a call this early meant somebody probably was. 
“‘Lo?” She gurgled, blearily staring in the darkness. Sweat clung to her face and clothes in the summer heat. Her window was open, the breeze doing little to cool her off. 
“Carmen!” The voice on the other end was frantic. “You’re not going to believe this!” Several dogs barked and howled in the background. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but we’ve got an emergency surgery.” There were several grunts as her coworker pulled something. “I think some poachers got to him. It looks like he was torn open by a bear trap.” 
The words floated in the air, before bringing horrific images to mind. Carmen’s phone beeped, indicating there were messages sent, images attached to them. 
“I’ll be there soon,” Carmen was out of bed and throwing on her clothes. “Start prepping.” She pulled her dirty blonde hair back without brushing it, making sure it was secured in a knot at the back of her head. Squeezing into her jeans and a presentable shirt, she quickly grabbed her phone and quickly looked at the incoming messages. 
What followed were images of a male ginger wolf, with a large wound on his leg and shoulder. His fur was damp, having been cleaned up. There was a muzzle around his snout, but his eyes were open and alert. He looked directly at the camera with what could only be described as a lupine scowl. 
No matter how many injured animals she saw.  Carmen always sniffed and felt a pang of pity for them. From little Spot and Mittens getting into a spat to the various wildlife people brought in, every creature needed a caring touch. 
“He really tried to fight me when I put on the muzzle.”   Anna’s words read. “ But a good jab of sedatives has him going night night. He’ll be completely under when you get here.” 
“Sorry buddy,” Carmen said aloud to no one. “But your jaw could tear off our arms.” Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she started to psych herself up for the upcoming meeting with this new patient. There were several wolves in the area, but they tended to stay in the mountains and parks, away from the city. A local wildlife reserve rehabilitated them and worked closely with the clinic, taking on all sorts of feral creatures that didn’t belong in the city. 
The poor thing was probably all sorts of confused. 
Going to the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and sputtered, slapping her cheeks to wake herself up. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and let the rush of mint further energize her. This was going to be one for the books. 
Seizing a canned coffee from the fridge, Carmen grabbed her keys and stumbled out the door. Guzzling it down, she drove through the dark streets, slowing strategically at speed traps. The one good thing about her random late night trips, the normal people of the world were still asleep. Although it was nearing a full moon, so the crazies of the world would be out. 
Something dug into her hip. At first, she tried to ignore it, but it dug into the sensitive skin at every movement. It felt sharp. Adjusting how she sat, Carmen tried to keep her eyes on the road. She was waking up, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it. 
Once she pulled up to a stoplight, she looked down to see a flash of silver wrapped in a leather string. 
Reaching down, she fished it out and saw the trinket she’d bought a month ago, a piece of rose quartz with wire wrapped around it, a small crescent moon, tree, and wolf charm tied to the gemstone. It had been a weird impulse buy. She couldn’t help but think of how thematically appropriate it was. 
Ducking her head, Carmen slipped the leather over her head and tucked it under her shirt. The light turned green, and she floored it once she got on the highway. The night whipped by. Rolling down the windows, Carmen let out a scream to further wake herself up. It was going to be a long day. 
It was barely four thirty when she pulled into the animal hospital. 
Anna let her in before she reached for her badge. She looked frazzled, her eyes wide and bloodshot. There were small scratches covering her arms, but it was a side effect of the job they were more than used to. Passing off the coffee, Carmen took the clipboard and quickly skimmed the contents. They didn’t have a lot of time. 
“He’s completely out,” Anna said as they rushed to the surgery room. “I think he’s a juvenile. But it’s hard to tell.” 
“Then let’s make good use of the time,” Carmen stopped to wash her hands. Once she was certain they were sufficiently clean, she went through the door. 
On the metal table was the body of the wolf. His hind legs were being propped up by a stool. His paws and ears twitched in his sleep. Instead of chasing rabbits, he was probably thinking of chasing sheep. Or perhaps deer. Hell, he probably could take down a bear if he wanted to. 
“I knew wolves were massive, but this guy is just…” Carmen fanned herself with the clipboard, trying to wrap her head around the sight. 
“Huge?” Anna asked, arching a brow. “Even when I worked at the park as a teen, I don’t think the wolves there got this big.” She took a long drink from the coffee. “He’s bulky too. Nothing but muscle in there.” 
“Yeah.” Carmen rubbed her eyes. The sight of the patient had completely sobered her up and released sleep’s hold on her. “Alright. Let’s patch this guy up.” Approaching the table, she placed a hand on the wolf’s haunch. 
There was almost an audible snap as his jaw clenched, lips curling back to show his fangs. His whole body went rigid under her touch. Slowly, his upward eye opened and tracked, staring at her. 
Carmen’s stomach dropped and she sucked in a breath. His paw twitched, brushing against her thigh. His claws could easily tear open her clothing and skin if he so chose. Silvery drool dribbled from his mouth, hitting the floor with a wet smack. 
Blinking rapidly, Carmed put a hand to her chest and kept her breathing under control. The gemstone firm in her grip, she willed the wolf to go back under. Something tugged at her, and she smelled something… Musty. 
The wolf’s eye rolled back and slowly closed again, his body relaxing. The drooling stopped. When Carmed rubbed her eyes, the puddle of drool was gone.
She was more tired than she thought. But she needed to give this patient the best care. 
At least the sedatives were doing their work. Anna hadn’t seemed to notice the incident, having rushed to the front desk when the bell chimed, indicating they had another patient. No doubt this one would be making the rounds on social media, if not the local news. 
She washed off the wounds again, then made quick work of them. His skin and fur were so thick that her tools were warped and bent when she started. Putting away the tools, she went and found the newest set she’d managed to scrounge up the money for. 
 Sutures were simple. Once she’d pieced most of him together, she bandaged him up. It was almost comical to see an entire roll wrapped around his leg, tufts of fur peeking out between the cloth. His paw twitched when she touched it. 
Now she had to convince a wild animal to ignore his base instincts. With man’s best weapon. Painkillers and more sedatives. 
His eyes moved under the lid, his nostrils flaring and lips twitching. 
They didn’t have an Elizabethan collar big enough to put around his head. Carmen doubted it would stay on even if there was one. He would probably find some way to tear it off. 
Hurt, thrown into the hospital parking lot, muzzled, sedated, then probably going to wake up drugged out of his mind. 
“Don’t worry,” She said, patting the side of his head. “I’m sure the assholes who did this to you are going to get what’s coming to them.” His heartbeat thrummed under her fingers. Hands sinking into his fur, Carmen found it somewhat comforting. Warm. She found herself leaning down to rest her head on his side. Stopping herself, she pulled back. 
How tired was she? Maybe she should have drank the coffee instead of passing it off to Anna. 
Sighing, she rubbed her eyes. 
Then, there was a growl. 
Eyes opening, she saw the wolf staring at her again.
No, not staring. The light was gone from his eyes. His paws twitched, like he was running in place, but in his sleep. She debated on tying his paws, but knew the poor thing would only wake up more confused and scared. The sedatives would work on him for another couple hours. Moving the patient to another large kennel, she locked him inside. 
Exiting the room, Carmen went to the back room and sat down, curling up in a chair and closing her eyes. 
It felt like she’d only blinked when she opened them again. Her whole body was stiff and sore. Tilting her head back and forth, she heard her joints popping and cracking. Taking in a deep breath, she got up and went to check on the patient. 
He had been moved to the kennels, a private section to keep him away from the domestic pets. His head laid on a pillow, his whole body limp. The exhaustion came through the glass, his expression pitiful. 
“I called the Wildlife Reserve.” Anna said, coming in with a steaming mug. “They’ll be here to pick him up in half an hour. They had some… Colorful words for me when I told them we had already gone ahead and done surgery on him.” 
Carmen crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I still want to know who the hell did this to him? Who sees an animal and thinks “You know what, I should hurt him?””
“I dunno. Crazy.” A buzzing rang through the room. Sighing, Anna turned on her heel and went to greet the customer who had just walked in. 
Walking up the glass, Carmen put her hand on it. The wolf tilted his head to look up at her, eyes looking sorrowful. His sides heaved, the barrier muffling the whines. 
Then, his head snapped to the area behind her. Looking back, Carmen saw uniformed men with a large cage. They towered over Carmen, their bodies thick with muscle. Their uniforms had the logo of the local wildlife reserve. 
“Oh. I thought you wouldn’t be here for a while.” Carmen straightened. 
“When we heard about the wolf, we had to make quick time.” One said, offering his hand. “Especially knowing he was injured.” The gloves were thick, ready to take on any bite. He was maybe mid thirties, with salt and pepper hair and dark eyes. 
Carmen took the hand, shaking it. She wasn’t even sure if  his fingers could move within the fabric. 
“Well, he seems to be responding well to the medication. Here’s what we dosed him with.” She found the chart and passed it over to the agent as the other moved to the wolf’s room. He was younger, maybe in his early twenties with dark hair pulled back into a tail. 
“Good. Thanks for taking care of him. We’ll try to see if he belongs to a pack not too far from here. If he doesn’t, then we’ll make sure to release him somewhere safe.” The man handed her a card. “If you want to visit him.” 
“Of course,” Carmen heard the sounds of a struggle. Whirling around, she saw the wolf snarling and growling, lunging at the Agent despite the muzzle. They had him in a hold with a catch pole. He went to try and paw it off, before collapsing with a yelp when he put weight on his injured legs. 
“Stand back, ma’am. I have to go help him.” The agent rushed into the room as the wolf continued to pull and twist, trying to get himself free. 
When he opened the door, the wolf suddenly shot forward, knocking him aside and heading straight for Carmen. 
“Shit!” Carmen didn’t have time to move as the wolf barreled into her. When she hit the ground, the Agents managed to get hold of him again. 
Then, he lifted up a massive paw and raked it across her arm. Two long crimson lines formed across the skin. Blood welled up, dripping onto the floor. 
“Carmen!” Anna shrieked, rushing over. “Oh my god, are you okay?” 
“It’s fine.” Carmen insisted, getting to her feet. Drops of crimson fell on the floor. The skin was already red and puffy. “Jesus.” She struggled to draw in breath, her heart leaping into her throat. 
The wolf continued to pull and tug at the Agents, but the second wind seemed to have gone out of him. Once they got him into the cage, the fight completely went out of him. With a metallic WHUMP, he collapsed, staring at Carmen through the bars. 
“You need to go to the hospital.” Anna insisted. “That looks bad.” 
“ER visit is not in the cards.” Carmen argued. “Can’t afford that.” She winced and cradled her arm. “How far away is the closest urgent care?” 
Walking to the desk, she pulled out a first aid kit, popping it open with one hand. At least they had plenty to handle small incidents. No way was she going to walk through the front lobby while bleeding like a stuck pig. Pulling out disinfectant, she went to the bathroom and applied it. 
The burning sensation nearly made her black out from the pain. Her head hit the wall, and she barely registered what Anna was saying. The other Agents were apologizing, or at least Carmen hoped so. 
“- about ten minutes?” Anna frowned. “I’ll fill out the incident report.” She looked Carmen up and down. “You don’t look so good, you should take the rest of the day off to rest. I’ll call someone from the other clinic and see if they can cover the surgeries. Thank God those guys knew the nearest Clinic offhand.” 
“Probably go there all the time themselves." Carmen shrugged. Anna reached over and helped hold her arm still. 
"Thanks, Doll.” Carmed winced again, seizing a roll of bandages and binding her arm the best she could. The Agents were gone, with the cage loaded in a trailer. “I’m not even mad. Poor boy was probably scared out of his mind.” 
***
The Urgent Care had just opened when she pulled up. Once admitted, she sat in the room, still cradling her arm. She didn’t dare unwrap the wound to get a better look at it. 
When the door opened, Carmen jerked her head up to look. 
The man who came through was older, maybe mid to late 40s. His hair was completely white, small bits of stubble on his face. Tired brown eyes looked her over, dark circles under them. A fatigue they both seemed to recognize and share a sympathetic half smile over. 
“Alright, tell me what happened.” His voice rumbled, still raspy from sleep. He held up a clipboard, clicking a pen to take notes. Old fashioned, then. She caught the name on his nametag, Esau Remington . 
“So, I’m a vet,” Carmen began, unwrapping her arm as she recounted what she thought was needed. He paid attention, unblinking and nodding. 
By the end, his brow was furrowed, the pen’s clicker tapping against his lips. 
“Are you sure it was a wolf and not a really big dog like a shepherd or a husky?” 
Fishing her phone out, Carmen showed him the pictures that Anna had sent her. His frown deepened, his brows rising to meet his hairline, the pen twirling back and forth between his fingers. The corner of his lip twitched, and he sucked in a sharp breath. 
“Well, I’ll be damned,” His cheeks flushed and he gave a nervous chuckle. 
“Sorry about the language. It’s not every day you see a wolf.” Clenching his jaw, he looked at the wound on her arm. “Just the scratch? He didn’t bite you anywhere?” 
Carmen shook her head. “No. They had a muzzle on him.” She winced as he rolled her arm between his fingers to look the gash over, making sure there was nothing inside it. The skin was more swollen, the congealing scabs weeping with clear fluid. “I’m up to date on my rabies shots and the like, unless you think I should take a booster?” 
Shaking his head, Dr. Remington sighed. “No, I think you do need sutures though. He did a number on you.” 
The pen scribbled as he took down a few notes. “I’m going to write you a prescription for some antibiotics and steroids. Take them all , even if you feel better.” The tone did not offer an argument. “And I’m going to recommend you take the next few days off. If you have a wily patient, you’re going to rip the sutures back open.” 
Carmen let a groan slip past her lips. The Doctor seemed taken aback, pen pausing mid scribble. Brow cocked, he looked her over. 
“I’ve got a lot of patients I need to look after.” She complained. “The wolf was a wild card, normally I just handle check ups.” 
“I’m sure your patients would appreciate you in a healthy state.” Remington argued back gently. “Take some time off, don’t strain yourself.”
  He looked over his shoulder, then back to her. “I know when I have some days cleared in my schedule, I like to go camping with some of my friends. We go hiking, swimming, and get to see nature.” Looking pointedly at her wound, he shrugged. “Although it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re a little sick of nature right now.” 
With a sigh, he began to prep her arm. Another round of disinfectant, making her hiss with pain. 
“I don’t mind nature.” Carmen shrugged, wincing as he began to apply the first suture. “Just don’t know if it’s a good idea to make a spontaneous trip into the woods with a messed up arm.” She tried to force a smile, but hissed when he pinched her wound closed. 
Dr. Remington tilted his head to the side with a grunt of agreement. “True. But it was just a suggestion.” His Adam’s Apple bobbed and he swallowed hard, his lips moist. “Not to mention the meds you’re on… Probably will make you too woozy to do anything strenuous.” He chuckled. “I got a little ahead of myself, sorry.” 
Carmen shrugged. “I get it. A little early, trying to wake yourself up.” 
"I find it hard to sleep some nights. Especially around this time of the  month. Always finding people doing stupid things. Must be the full moon." 
Once he’d finished stitching her up, he presented her with a prescription and doctor’s note. After calling the clinic back, Carmen assured Anna that she would be back as soon as possible. 
At home, she popped the first round of pills and collapsed onto her bed. 
When Carmen woke up next, sweat soaked her sheets. Panting, she pulled herself from her blanket cocoon. The cool air of the night was like ice. Shivering, she popped another round of meds, then  got into the shower, letting the water pour over her. 
The sweat and grime from sleep rolling down into the tub made her feel a little more like a human. Her phone was blowing up with texts from Anna and other coworkers. Pushing her phone aside, Carmen collapsed onto her bed again, shivering and trying to cover herself up enough to combat the shivers, but not feel overheated. 
Shaking, she tried to claim sleep, but it refused to come. Getting up, she began to pace back and forth across the floor, feet slapping loudly across the hardwood. The walls around her seemed to close tighter. 
Opening her window, she popped out the screen and leaned out. A spell of dizziness hit her. Head swimming, she nearly fell forward. Holding tightly to the sill, she yanked herself back in, rear slamming hard against the floor. Leaning against her bed, she took a few shaky breaths. 
Closing her eyes, she drug the sweat soaked blanket down from her bed and wrapped it around herself, falling into a fitful sleep. 
When the first rays of sun pierced the open window, chilly winds of dawn rolled over Carmen and made her hair stand on end. The necklace pressed into her hip, leaving red indents over her skin. Fishing it out, she simply tossed it aside, watching it skitter across the floor and come to a rest against her dresser. 
Crawling to the window, she pulled it closed and then collapsed under it. Curling into the fetal position, Carmen fell into another fitful sleep. 
She found herself standing next to a woman made of stone. A crescent moon covered her eyes like a mask, her mouth open in a howl. A silver wolf draped itself across her lap, head thrown back to mimic hers. Cracks and chipped off pieces had worn it down, but it still held a beauty to it. 
The grass around it was green and lush. Thick trees grew around the statue, the song of the forest crying out. Animals, insects, bubbling streams, wind, all of it calling out to something in her. Taking a few steps forward, she looked at the wolf. Its stone eye seemed to move, looking right at her. Even though she was clothed, it made her feel naked and nervous. Stomach flipping, she took a few steps back. 
“Come to me, my child.” A woman’s voice whispered in the wind. 
The golden sun had become the silvery moon when Carmen opened her eyes again. Her whole body ached. A throbbing in her head and arm helped drag her away from the land of sleep. She saw the necklace tightly clutched in her grip, leaving an impression of the moon in her palm. 
Every muscle protested when Carmen drug herself off the floor and took the meds. They went down hard, nearly making her throw it back up. 
Filling up a tall drink of water, she guzzled it down to fill her stomach. Hunger gnawed at her, staving off sleep. Breathing hard, she took another shower and let the hot water soothe her muscles. 
The strange fever and fatigue had worn off, replaced with an energy that she hadn’t felt in years. Blood sang in her veins, wanting to run. Even in the shower, she found herself shifting from one foot to the other, eager to start… Something. 
Stepping out of the shower, she found herself dressing quickly. Hair still damp, she pulled it back and mapped out a potential run she could do. She just had to go outside. Get away from the walls of plaster and sheetrock. 
A smell made her pause. It was buried under her smell. But she could still pick it up. Pulling out her pants from the other day, she pulled out the business card and sniffed it. A small drop of blood was on the corner. Hers? No. The scent drove her wild. She held it close and inhaled deeply, before pulling it back. 
“What the hell am I doing?” Setting it back down, Carmen rubbed her face, sweat pouring down her brow. She stared at the address, the image of the wolf coming to her mind. 
He stared at her, looking pitiful. Then, his claws flashed and raked across her arm. When she fell to the ground, she saw the statue. 
“ Come to me, my child .” The woman’s voice whispered in the wind again. “ Join the hunt. ” 
Walking outside, Carmen let the night air roll over her and went to the car, heart thrumming. Pulling out her phone, she punched the address of the wildlife reserve and then prepared to travel. 
Her drive was a blur. Tunnel vision made her unaware of how fast she arrived, or even if she was driving safely. Static crackled in her ears, making her hair stand on end. 
The mechanical voice telling her she’d arrived at her destination was what brought her back. She stared at the spot illuminated by her headlights. A line of trees, then a chain link fence. More foliage behind that, but it was too thick to see past. 
Getting out of the car, Carmen slammed the door and began to take a few steps toward the fence. The wind shifted, blowing a scent toward her. Wrapping her fingers around the links, Carmen inhaled.
  Closing her eyes, she let the smell wash over her. It caressed her very being, tugging at something within her. Dropping to her knees in front of the fence, she clenched the links tight enough for her knuckles to turn white and her injured arm to throb. Metal warped under her grip, the coppery scent of blood following. 
Bringing her hands down, Carmen saw crimson pooling in her palm. A laugh escaped her and she sat with her back to the fence. Lapping at the wound, shook her head. 
“What on earth am I doing?” She started to stand. Her body protested at the movement. The soreness was back with a vengeance. Closing her eyes, she pressed her bandaged hand to her face, pulling it away to see it soaked with sweat and grime. 
Staggering to her feet, she ignored the tantalizing scent as she headed back to her car. When Carmen put her hand on the roof, the smell hit her like a load of bricks. Opening her eyes wide, she turned back around to look at the line of trees. The area around her was tinted with a silvery-blue hue, but it was almost as bright as day. 
This had to be a dream. None of this made sense. Leaning down, she touched her forehead to the warm metal of the car. 
“Just wake up.” She urged herself. “You’re having a bad reaction to the medicine.” 
Slowly, she raised her head. 
Time seemed to slow down. Turning back toward the fence, she felt her feet moving on their own, dragging across the asphalt. 
Something glistened on the links in the silvery light. Reaching out, she brushed her knuckle to it. Once she touched the metal, it sent a jolt through her.  
Then, she saw the small gap in the links. Someone had cut through it with bolt cutters. But they’d put it back to where it was almost invisible to anyone far enough away. No wonder she had been able to bend the metal so easily.
 Clenching the fence, she pulled it back and crawled through, metal raking across her back. Wincing, she dropped to her stomach and drug herself through, feeling more tugs at her clothing. 
Once she stood up, her arm was throbbing, the pain making her head spin. Staggering, she sniffed the air. The scent was stronger than before. Her whole body ached, but she had to follow it. Cradling her arm, she began a slow walk. 
Cicadas cried, a creek flowed, and the wind continued to blow, stirring a few stray wisps of her hair out of its knot at the back of her head. 
Then, she came to a break in the trees, showing a sheer drop. In the meadow, a group of wolves ran around, wrestling and snapping at one another. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw one stop, then stand up on its hind legs and sniff the air. It turned a massive head around to look right at her. 
“I knew you’d come.” A voice called behind her. It was gruff, like it wasn’t used to speaking. As it rumbled through her ears, Carmen’s hair stood on end. 
Slowly, Carmen turned to see a bipedal wolf looking at her, its hindleg bandaged and stiff. Its shoulder was also wrapped up. 
The wolf took a few shaking steps toward her. Then, it dropped down onto all fours. Even then, it still looked her in the eye. Drool glistened on its teeth as it licked its muzzle. Then, she saw the same eyes, in what she recognized as a lupine scowl. 
Her ginger wolf from the clinic. 
Now she knew she was dreaming. 
It took another step toward her. She backed away, stopping when she felt the give of the ground, warning her of the drop below. Heart hammering in her throat, she could only stare at the wolf as it took a few steps closer to her.
Her stomach fluttered. Fear? No. Something else she couldn’t identify. Head swimming, she tried to string thoughts together to make a plan of escape. However, her vision began to blur. Daring to blink, she took in a shaking breath. 
Something tore through the grass. But she didn’t dare take her eyes off the creature approaching her. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she focused on the visible threat. 
“The Goddess has blessed you. And you’ve been marked by her hounds.” Ginger grumbled, nose nearly touching her. The inhales were strong, almost like a human. 
“You’ve gone into heat.” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, hot breath rolling over her skin. Something about it made the ache worse, spreading it through Carmen so fast she nearly screamed. “You’ll send the rest of the pack into rut.” 
Then, a large silver wolf slammed into the ginger, swatting him with a human shaped front paw. The action was so quick, Carmen could only gape. Her knees nearly gave out, but she managed to keep herself upright. If she went over the cliff, she’d drop and probably break below. But if this was a dream… 
Ginger flew back, screaming in pain. The noise shook her thoughts loose and she gasped, reaching out for him. Crimson blossomed on the bandaged haunch and shoulder. His back legs gave out as he struggled to get on all fours again.
“You bastard!” He barked at the silver wolf. “You broke my leg!” Yelping, he looked at Carmen with pleading eyes. “Help me!” 
Carmen took a step forward, only to feel a hand clamp on her shoulder. Claws dug into her skin, making her stand still. Then, she was whirled around to face the silver wolf, who towered over her. 
“You shouldn’t be out here.” The voice rasped. “Not without being taken into the pack first.” His nostrils flared, his pupils blowing all the way out as he stared at her. Brown eyes, glinting with the want for a hunt. His scent overpowered Carmen. 
Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered to wake up over and over again. 
The fear held fast to her, not allowing her to move a muscle in fear of both wolves tearing her to shreds. 
Then, the hand on her shoulder went to her waist, picking her up. Before she could scream, it squeezed tight enough to push the air from her lungs. Finally, she opened her eyes to see that she was moving. Well, the wolf was walking, simply carrying her like a ragdoll. His massive paws had wrapped around her, although he’d taken care to not scratch her further with his claws. 
Ginger flew at them with a snarl, his back leg suddenly seeming to work perfectly. 
Silver swatted at him, then heaved. The wolf flew through the air, screaming as he went down into the meadow below. When he hit the ground, the crunch echoed through the night. Carmen felt sick, her stomach heaving. Covering her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut again. 
There was a grunt. Air whipped around Carmen, stirring the scents again. An impact jostled her, and she opened her eyes. They’d landed in the meadow, the other wolves approaching, much more cautious in their steps. A few sniffed, inching closer with flared nostrils, but never close enough to touch. 
The smell made her mind swim. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and she shivered. All the eyes on her were like hands, caressing her very being. Each one hungrily taking her in, assessing her. 
The ruined pile of fur and bone groaned. 
“Your brother decided to go against the rules and try to bring another member into our ranks. Without permission. Or consent, for that matter.” Silver growled. “So now, he must put himself at the mercy of Diana.” He set Carmen down, setting his massive hand on her shoulder so she couldn’t run. His touch froze her further. Not even a breath passed her lips. 
The wolves sat or laid down in the grass, staring at the pair. They knew who the one in charge was. 
“What’s going on?” Carmen choked out, eyes watering. “Please. Tell me or let me wake up.” She slapped her cheeks, stopping when Silver’s hand wrapped around her entire uninjured forearm. It was a gentle, but firm grip. 
“No one touches her.” Silver insisted, before forcing her to face him. His eyes seemed to stare into her very being. They looked alert, but so tired. More fluid dribbled onto her legs and shoes. But she didn’t dare break the gaze. To assert dominance with a canine, you couldn’t be the first to break eye contact. 
Hopefully the same rules applied to lupines. Alpha and Omega only applied to captive and family packs, but this was all she knew to work with. 
As they stared at one another, Carmen felt the fear and desire to know more about everything warring with one another. Part of her wanted to escape the dream no matter how, the other part wanted to stay and listen. Sit on her haunches like the other wolves, watching him speak. 
His eyes explored hers, flicking over her form to take her appearance in. The gleam only added to his dangerous look. His pupils were slightly dilated, his muzzle twitching. His tongue tasted the air around her. 
Silver broke away first. A sigh of relief escaped her, and she dropped to her knees. Silver’s grip on her arm didn’t release. Closing her eyes, she urged herself to wake up. 
Then, she was being pulled back to her feet. Arms cradled her, twisted and alien enough to make her uneasy, despite the strength behind them. She tried to not shake, but her body refused to listen. 
“What do we do?” One of the wolves asked. “Her scent is going to roll on the wind. If she’s changed, there might be others we don’t know about.” 
“Guard the entrances. Make sure no one else gets in.” Silver rumbled, before he started to walk, each step jostling Carmen enough to nearly make her cry out. 
Then, he took her away from the meadow. There was a hole on the side of the cliff. Bowing his head, Silver brought her inside. Only then did he set her down on the stone floor. Once he’d done that, he went to the mouth of the cave and sat down. 
“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Carmen begged, not daring to move from her spot. “Did… Did you kill that wolf?” She’d have to call the Wildlife reserve when she woke up to check on him. 
“No. If Diana is merciful, he will be healed when the moon and sun switch.” Silver didn’t look at her. “You care about the one who did this to you? Was he your mate?” 
The question made Carmen blush. “N… No. I just…” Her brain felt addled. Why was she getting flustered over a wolf? “I took care of him. He was already hurt.” 
Silver snorted. “We’re sturdy. Don’t worry.” He slammed his paw on the ground. The open palm slapped hard, the noise amplified in the cave. Carmen resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears. “As you saw, he wasn’t nearly as injured as he pretended to be.” 
Still, getting flung over the side of the cliff… 
Carmen shuddered. “I just… I want to go home. Or wake up.” She scratched at the side of her head. The blood on her palm smeared on her cheek. 
Silver turned to look at her sideways. “You think this is a dream?” 
“Talking wolves, seeing them walk upright, it’s like a werewolf movie.” Swallowing, Carmen flinched when she felt the sting of pain, more blood dripping on her clothing. 
Standing upright, Silver approached her, taking her hand in his massive paws. Rolling it back and forth, he stared at it. Then, he slowly leaned down and ran a large pink tongue over the wound. The sensation sent a shiver up Carmen’s spine. 
The wound slowly began to shrink, before sealing itself closed. Carmen stared at it in awe. She flexed her fingers and brushed them against the twisted digits that now clutched her hand. Silver’s fur suddenly bristled, and he dropped her hand, turning away from her again. 
“You are werewolves, aren’t you?” Swallowing hard, Carmen tried to calm the roaring in her ears. 
“Correct.” Silver sighed. “We don’t bring pack members in willy nilly. It was supposed to be a tight ring.” He scratched at the ground, his claws bringing up grains of stone. “And not without my permission. Every werewolf in this pack is under my protection. They abide by my rules. In exchange, they are given this area to run every cycle.” 
“Why haven’t I changed?” The words were hard to force out. 
“You’re refusing to.” Silver turned to face her fully. “You’ve surely felt the way your body is hurting? How you need to do something, but you’re not sure what?” His nostrils flared, his pupils nearly overtaking his iris. “The Goddess has touched you. But you’ve managed to keep control, I’m impressed.” 
His hands shook as he reached for her. Claws traced her cheeks, making her hair stand on end. The scent of him was overpowering, making her mouth almost water. Something in her ached. 
“You are safe now. If you give into the change, you will not harm yourself or others.” He assured her. “I will take you into the pack. Every moon, we will come here. Once you are recognized as a member, we’ll do what we can to make sure that this is as painless as possible.” 
His hands on her, the rumbling of his voice, his scent, the way the air tasted around him drove Carmen crazy. Trembling, she felt herself nearly falling again. Why was she so weak in the knees? 
Something in her finally let go. The world exploded in silvery blue, the scents, sounds, and feelings overpowering her. Gasping, she felt her back arch. 
She suddenly jolted forward, slipping from the grip of Silver. He stared at her with wide eyes, flinching when she touched him. Burying her hands into his fur, inhaled his scent, listening to the rapidly increasing beat of his heart. 
The touch seemed to awaken something in him, his rapidly growing erection brushed against her midriff, pushing the hem of her shirt up. 
“N-no.” He weakly tried to push her away, nearly tripping over his feet as he tried to get away from her. “You can’t.” 
A fire formed in Carmen’s belly. She felt the emptiness inside her clawing up into her womb, begging to be filled. Dropping to her knees, she panted, sweat trickling down her brow and upper lip. 
“Please.” She said, her mouth dry. “Please. Help me.” Her eyes widened and she felt heat flash through her. The scent rolling off her mingled with the air. It was hard to resist the urge to tear off her clothes and start plunging fingers inside herself. 
Silver’s erection grew, beads of precum dribbling from the tip as he inhaled her scent, tasting it in the air. Silvery saliva drooled out of his mouth, and he stared at her. But he didn’t dare move. His hand gripped the mouth of the cave, looking ready to rip it down rather than come near her. 
“You must have your first change,” He urged her. “Please. Let the Wolf inside come out.” He flexed his free hand. “My fangs and claws would rip you to shreds.” His voice was growing more raspy, each word a chore to push past his teeth. 
Carmen’s body twisted as she cried out with a need she’d never felt the intensity of before. Her throat felt raw from the primal screams escaping her. She tried to find the part of her mind and push for the change to occur. Begging the wolf to come out. 
The other wolves were making their way over. Their scent made Carmen launch herself, only for Silver to clothesline her. With a grace that suggested practice, he managed to push her back into the cave. With his hand still tight around her waist, he laid Carmen on the floor. 
“Diana, forgive me for what I’m about to do.” He muttered, holding her to the ground. “You can’t scream like that. You’ll make every wolf in the area come running.” His cock brushed against Carmen’s clothed groin, the sensation sending another blast of lust through her. 
“Please.” Carmen panted, unable to catch her breath. “Help me.” Eyes watering, she reached for the Wolf’s arm, gripping it tightly enough she thought she might burst her stitches. 
“I could rip you in half.” He shook his head. “You’re not changed. You’re not made for it.” His nostrils flared, his hands shaking and gripping her tighter. 
“Help me change.” She urged him. “Please.” Why was she in so much pain if it was a dream? There was no way she’d been this horny in real life. Sure, she’d wanted sex before, but never this bad.
Sighing, he looked over his shoulder to the entrance of the cave. It was empty. But each movement and second he made her wait was agonizing. 
Slowly, he took his hand off her. With considerably less grace and control, he tore off her pants and underwear. The full scent of her arousal hit him. His hand slammed the open area above her head, his cock dribbling onto her thighs. A few drops landed on her exposed groin. Crying out, she bucked her hips up, reminding him what needed to be filled. 
Leaning down, he nuzzled against her neck, his nose cold. Fangs traced over her skin, making her gasp. Warmth followed as his tongue went across her neck, trailing to the collar of her shirt, leaving a large wet spot. Tensing, he ran his hand up her stomach, slipping it under the fabric of her top. 
It rested there, his open palm’s warmth mingling with her own. Slowly, he slipped it off her, taking care to not tug on the bandages on her injured arm. His claws tore through the cheap fabric of her sports bra, but the loss wasn’t going to break her heart. 
His eyes rested on the necklace now laying against her chest. 
“Diana forgive me,” He said again, before pushing her legs apart. His fur tickled her bare skin. It was softer than she thought it would be. Lowering his head, he lapped at the wetness forming between her legs and spilling out into the floor. 
The touch of his tongue made her cry out. Her legs locked around Silver’s head, forcing him to inhale her scent and arousal completely. Whether the motion or her cries finally made him let go, it seemed to awaken something in him. 
Growling, he sent a rumble through her that shook her very being. Breath escaped her, and she fell back flat, drowning in the pleasure. 
Grabbing Carmen’s thigh, Silver plunged his tongue in deep, rolling his head with each lick. She thought she would scream, but all that came out were quiet moans of satisfaction. Her hands tried to grab at something, to distract her from the sensation long enough to hold her rapidly approaching climax. She settled on resting her hand on his head, pushing him in further. 
Her legs went slack, shaking with desire. He gave a few more licks, before pulling back and running his tongue over her clit. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure over Carmen, making her cry out and arch her back, wanting to be filled again. 
Then, he pulled back, fur slick with her arousal. Breathing heavy, the Wolf stared at her entrance, his warm breath tickling her wet folds. Leaning down, he licked the ground and lapped up every drop of her that had spilled out. 
He picked her up off the ground, pressing her to the wall. Carmen’s legs snaked around his waist, barely able to hold herself up. Rocking his hips, Silver, growled in her ear. The breath tickled the curve of her neck, making her shiver. 
“Tell me you want it.” He rasped, the tip prodding against her. She could feel their fluids mixing together, dirtying the cave floor. 
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Carmen nodded. 
“P-Please.” She begged. 
Then, he entered her. She was so slick it slid right in. Once she’d wrapped around him, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down. Rolling his hips, he thrust up into her. Arms wrapped around Carmen’s body, he kept her from scraping against the stone of the cave. Cradling her head, he had her look at him. 
“Your pupils are so wide, I can’t see your iris anymore.” He growled, each thrust sending pleasure through Carmen. “I didn’t think my cock would fit, but you’re taking it so well.” The words weren’t teasing or hurtful, he seemed just as surprised as her. “It’s like you were made for me. There’s a little bit of the wolf getting teased out.” 
Carmen couldn’t deny the pleasure sweeping through her. She wriggled her hips and took him to the base, gripping him tighter. The growl that escaped him was one of pleasure. His thrusts were strong, each one filling her with white hot heat. Every moan and gasp that escaped her echoed loudly in the cave, no doubt funneling into the meadow. 
“Hold me tightly.” He encouraged her. “Scratch, bite, yell, let yourself fall to your base instincts.” His thrusts became almost vicious, impaling Carmen and reaching deeper than she thought possible. 
She screamed, tearing at his fur. The cries encouraged him further, and he bucked his hips hard, slamming into her. Bareback scraping against the wall, Carmen took it all in, pleasure building in her stomach and bringing her closer. 
There was no way she should have been able to take his cock. It was too big. The thought of it entering would have made her scoff, but now she was drawing it into her like it had always belonged. 
Then, she grew uncomfortably tight. Wincing, she dug her nails into his thick fur. Part of her was tempted to bite down on his shoulder, but the sensation would probably shock him into letting go of her. 
She grew more slick, wanting to take him all the way in, thicker cock be damned. It needed to be all the way inside when he came. Rolling her hips, she tried to press herself down against him when he thrust up. 
“Fuck… The knot.” Silver panted. “I’m about to-” 
He winced when she wrapped her legs tighter around him. “Wait, I’m going to-” His eyes were clouded with lust, his tongue lapping her neck. Words became grunts and growls 
Carmen’s body tensed. Throwing her head back, she nearly slammed it against the wall of the cave as the orgasm ripped through her. She clenched down onto the cock inside her. 
The pressure made Silver howl, and he erupted. Thick ropes of fluid filled Carmen, then dripped onto the floor. Two more aftershocks followed, although they paled in comparison to the first, merely spilling more onto the stone and Silver’s feet. 
Panting, Silver brought her down, collapsing onto the cave floor. His rapidly shrinking and softening cock was still slick with Carmen’s wetness. 
Carmen crawled over to him, falling onto his chest. His rapidly beating heart gradually slowed, his shallow breaths becoming deeper. Within moments, he was snoring. 
Closing her eyes, Carmen laid against his sleeping form. Even though he was a beast, it felt safe. His clawed hand rested against her thigh, the other encircling her chest and pulling her to him. 
***
Slants of light fell on Carmen. Groaning, she tried to move. Soreness filled her body, her joints and muscles straining against the movement as she tried to rouse herself. The floor underneath her was cold and hard. Hadn’t she closed the window last night? 
Looking down, she saw her naked body. Bruises traced up and down her hips and thighs. Stone was beneath her, scents of sex and animal mixing with her nose. 
Warm hands clutched her close. A half hard cock rubbed against her leg. 
“Mmm…” The person holding her groaned, pulling her back down to the ground. Stubble scraped against her bare shoulder, followed by a kiss. Squirming, she resisted the urge to twist away. 
“Morning.” The grogginess was clear in the voice. 
Carmen felt a familiar soreness between her legs. Panic seized her when she realized what had happened wasn’t a dream. 
Slowly, she turned to look down at her partner. 
And into the half asleep face of Doctor Remington. 
228 notes · View notes
luvjunie · 8 months
Text
— Unforgettable ( 3 )
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part one • part two • part three • part four • part five
pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader
contains: sooo much fluff, plot progression, a glimpse into reader and miles’ relationship, the moment we’ve all been waiting for 🤭, and another itty bitty plot twist
summary: a bump in with a certain boy at the bodega threatens to ruin your previously perfect afternoon until he offers to fix it. you assumed things would end there, and then you ran into him again. wc: 3,254
a/n: i know y’all ain’t think i forgot about this series!!! but here’s a long chapter as an apology since i made y’all wait so long </3 also did i say an ‘itty bitty’ plot twist? cause i be lying. recap of part two is in small italics!
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“You had her approval as soon as you called her Mrs. Morales.”
Your head tilted in question, eyes panning to the ceiling in thought. “Isn’t that normal? Calling someone’s parent by their last name?”
A comfortable silence settled, just for a moment.
“You’d think so.” A smile curled Miles’ lips, the memory of when he’d introduced the first girl he’d ever liked to his parents flashing into his mind; his interest in tossing the ball paused momentarily as images from the past flooded his thoughts.
Wait… Why was he thinking about her?
. . .
“Miles?”
“Milesss?”
“Huh?” Miles blinked quickly as he brought himself back to the present, his slightly startled gaze landing on your puzzled expression.
“Earth to Morales?” Your tone leaked with a playfulness as you quirked a brow at him. “Did you hear a word I just said?”
“Nah, sorry,” Miles cleared his throat, then scratched his forehead with a laugh he hoped didn’t sound too awkward. “Just spaced out for a sec. What’d you say?”
“I saiddd,” Laying on your stomach as your thumbs twiddled along the screen of your phone, you sent a quick text before you continued. “—It’s getting kinda late, and if I’m not home in the next thirty minutes my Grandma will alert the entire police force over my absence.” you chuckled, the perpetual buzzes of replies sounding from your phone only furthering your point.
“Oh— Yeah, you’re right. My bad, I didn’t even realize.” Miles stood and grabbed his coat from the hook off his closet door before he turned towards you with a warm grin.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”
Miles had been staring at his ceiling ever since he got back home, headphones blasting music over his ears to drown out the inevitable. For what seemed like hours, and for what probably was, he was trapped in an endless rumination he didn’t want to be a part of.
The grace his weekend temporarily granted him had unfortunately come to an end, and before he knew it, there was a knock on his bedroom door that reminded him of the upcoming drive him and his dad had to make back to Visions.
“Dude, this is so stupid. My head is about to explode from all this thinking.” Clad in a wifebeater and plaid boxers as he laid on the top bunk, Miles whined out what had only been his hundredth complaint in the span of fifteen minutes.
“And I can’t find my bonnet!”
Miles’ voice was muffled by the fluff of his pillow, the same pillow that was clutched tightly and caged between his arms as an effort to cling onto the last bit of his sanity. Also the same pillow that’d gone flat nearly two months ago. How convenient.
He thought talking Ganke’s ear off about all his feelings would help sort through his thoughts, but it did the exact opposite. Miles’ feelings for you were growing, that was an undeniable fact, so he still couldn’t figure out why after an entire year, Gwen was still on his mind. Why couldn’t he just forget about her?
“I really like this girl, man. Like, really, really like her. Like, Sunflower ain’t got shit on this girl, like her.” Miles blinked, astonished at his own words as he carried on, “Like, I offered to walk her home instead of having my mom drive her, like her—“
“Bro— Bro. I get it,” Ganke interrupted.
“I didn’t even know I could feel like this for someone else!” Pulling himself into a seated position, Miles let his legs dangle over the side of the bed. “I mean, I even let her meet my parents. You know how I am about that!” He exclaimed, arms outstretched as if they would help him present his case better. Ganke, in fact, did not know how he was about that.
“That obviously means I’m over Gwen! Right?”
No answer.
“Right?”
“I dunno, dude! Now you see why I don’t even bother dealing with that kind’a junk. It’s confusing as hell. “ Ganke’s eyes darted from side to side as they tracked the video game on his PC’s monitor, tongue poking at his lip in intense concentration. His half-baked advice to Miles was as much as he could muster without losing focus on his Call of Duty mission. “That’s love for you, man.”
Miles’ eyes went wide and his heart began to race. “Woah woah woah— I ain’t say anything about love!” Technically, he did, just in different words.
With a weighted sigh the controller plunked out of Ganke’s hands and down onto the desk, ‘MISSION FAILED’ flashing in bold onto the screen.
“Alright, look,” Ganke spun around in his chair and glanced up at the top bunk. “If you like this girl as much as you say you do, why don’t you just go for it? What’s stopping you? A girl who’s not even here anymore?” he scoffed. “Quit dwelling on the past and look at what’s right in front of you. You know, someone who’s actually in this universe.”
Miles sat with pursed lips as he stared down at his open palms, treading in the water of his thoughts.
“You know what,” Head raising, he looked to his roommate with a newfound determination. “You’re right, Ganke. Starting tonight, I’m done thinking about the past.” Miles nodded.
“Great, now either let me get back to my mission in peace, or grab a damn controller and help me.”
Ganke was right. Gwen’s gone, and she wasn’t coming back. It’s not even possible.
Miles let the conclusion settle within him as he dug around in the junk drawer for the spare controller.
It’s time for him to move on.
As you relaxed on your back in the room you’d been in more times than you could even remember at this point, head idly bopping to an album by Tears for Fears, you thought back to the time before you knew Miles. And even though you hadn’t known him for nearly as long as you’d known yourself— maybe just caught up in the whirlwind of something new and exciting, or him in general— you couldn’t help but feel as if his presence had been missing from your life this entire time.
Spending the day with him had become as normal as breathing to you. His space had become your space (his words), and it rang true as you hummed along to the tune echoing from the record player on his desk.
“Help me to decide. Help me make the most of freedom, and of pleasure. Nothing ever lasts forever…”
The song ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’ wrapped you snug in a warm sense of nostalgia, it having been one of your favorites since middle school. And paired with being around your favorite person— you were sure you never wanted to leave this moment. You smiled to yourself at the upside down image you had of Miles as you let your head hang over the side of his bed, the beads on the ends of your braids clinking against his wooden floors when your head tilted with a new found query.
“Miles,”
He hummed, but it wasn’t the kind that sounded as if you’d interrupted him, or as if he were annoyed. It was the kind that let you know he was interested in whatever you wanted to tell him, and that you had his attention even if his eyes weren’t on you.
“Okay, bear with me here. And answer carefully, because this kind of decides the type of person you are and whether I’ll even speak to you afterwards.”
“Wait, what is it?” He quickly looked up at you—upside down you, at least— with concerned eyes and you struggled to hide your grin.
“What color do you think science is?”
“Are you serious?” He deadpanned.
Your brow raise was his answer.
“Green, obviously.”
“Interesting choice. Why green?”
Miles shrugged, “Cause of the environment. Plants are green. And when I think of plants, I think of photosynthesis. Photosynthesis, equals science. Therefore,” pen in hand, he made a ‘viola’ gesture. “Green.”
“Mm,” You scrunched your nose, eyes panning back to the ceiling. “I guess I can see that.”
“And math is blue.” He tacked on.
“Blue!?” You balked, flipping over onto your stomach so his face was right side-up now. “Math? Blue? Are you deadass?”
“As dead as ass can be.” Miles quipped with a snort and continued to scribble away at the page he’d been sketching on for the last half hour.
“History is blue, not math!” You scoffed.
“Alright Y/n, what other color would math be then?” He asked incredulously.
“Red, duh.”
“Red?” He repeated breathlessly. “Why would math be red?”
“Well,” you started, “Math makes me angry. And when I think about anger, I think about the color red, just like everybody else does. And I hate red, just like I hate math. Numbers and letters do not belong together, just like pineapple on pizza. Therefore,” you mimicked his previous gesture to the air with a confident grin. “Red.”
“Pineapple— Numbers… What?” Miles blinked at you with both disbelief and confusion, the corners of his mouth threatening to expose his amusement as they lifted. “That’s it? That’s your grand explanation?”
“Mm-hm.” You hummed proudly, chin perched in both your hands.
Miles shook his head as his smile finally made itself known, dimples and all the moment your lashes batted at him.
“Not gon’ lie to you, that sounded like a whole bunch’a bullshit.” He laughed at your fake offended expression.
One of Miles’ favorite things about you was how you always seemed to ramble about everything, and nothing at the same time. He thought it was adorable.
“Well, the math part I understand, I guess.” he shrugged. “But you can’t possibly hate the color red all that much.”
Your brows furrowed at him, “What makes you say that?”
“Cause,” Miles turned his sketchbook towards you, the drawing he’d been working on this entire time revealed to be a moment he’d caught of you, gazing up at his ceiling just the way you were a moment ago. “Look.”
You nearly felt your heart stop as you took in what was in front of you. All this time while you were in your own world, singing along to whatever song came and went, he’d been focused solely on you. You dragged your eyes up from the paper so they’d meet his, your calves swiftly tucking under your thighs when you rushed to sit up in a straighter position.
“I—Is that me?” You blabbed out before you could think.
“Nah, it’s Boo-Boo the fool.” Miles huffed out a laugh. “Yes, it’s you dummy.”
Gentle strokes of red to the thin paper framed your face and lips, the attention to detail he used brought your eyes to life on the page, and he’d even managed to capture the beads on the bottom of your braids, too.
“How the hell did you do that?”
He shrugged shyly and turned his artwork to face him once more, studying the page as if he hadn’t been doing just that all this time. His heart was beginning to race faster than he’d originally predicted, and he wondered if he should’ve shown you.
“It’s kind of muscle memory at this point.”
Miles heard the words that came out of his own mouth, and you did too, but it was like the both of you comprehended exactly what he’d said at the same time.
“Don’t—“ He tried, but it was too late, you were already gushing, and he was already blushing.
“Awwwww!”
“Please—“
“Milessss!” you teased, ignoring his plea.
“Stop it.” Flustered, he shielded a smile behind his hand and tried to look anywhere else but your face.
“You’re so cute when you blush.”
Things were beyond easy with Miles.
The two of you never ran out of things to talk about and he always matched your energy, as if he were the other half of you.
There were no awkward moments, or pressure towards the other about making a move, because deep down you both knew what this was, and that everything would fall into place with time.
It was apparent in the way he looked at you, in how perfectly you fit in his arms when he hugged you goodbye, and how you always relaxed in his embrace when he would hold onto you just a bit longer.
Your first date went perfectly. Well, not really, but that’s what made it even better.
An ominous ‘be ready in 20 mins’ text to your phone and about a half hour later, Miles popped up at your door, pink tulips in hand and a smile big enough to match his signature jacket.
The two of you decided to catch a movie after a short train ride to the theater, and he let you pick. Horror being one of your favorite genres, that’s what you went with, and like everything else that came with you, Miles agreed.
But just thirteen minutes in at one of the simplest jumpscares (if you could even call it one), Miles let out a scream belonging on one of the highest vocal registers your ears had ever heard, and it sent you into such an uncontrollable fit of laughter that you ended up accidentally spilling your fresh popcorn all over the floor.
Miles’ ego wasn’t nearly big enough for him to remain embarrassed once the tears started rolling from your eyes, and eventually, the laughter he tried to stifle made itself known to everyone sitting around you. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone.
It only took two minutes of you guys cackling and snorting before the both of you were asked to leave, and you had no idea how you made it out of the theater with how hard your stomachs were cramping.
Sure, the movie hadn’t gone quite as planned, but you didn’t mind and neither did he. As long as you both were in each other’s company, you wouldn’t mind watching paint dry.
The blue hue of the night had long enveloped the city, and as you and Miles sat up on the roof of his apartment, the dimmed fairy lights twinkling in the darkness from where they were strung across the perimeter, you made a mental note to study up on the movie you told your Grandma you were staying out late to see.
You leaned into Miles and rested your head on his shoulder, knees pulling to your chest as you exhaled softly.
“You cold?”
Far from it, actually.
A perpetual breeze prompted your bodies to curl into each other more, though goosebumps and chattering teeth were nowhere in sight, only fingers secretly inching closer and hearts growing fonder.
“I should be asking you, I’m wearing your jacket.” you joked.
“Nah,” he chuckled. “I’m alright.”
The silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to go home just yet and Miles wasn’t ready to say goodbye for the night, so you stayed.
This had become a new norm for the two of you, so much so that this was pretty much how all your hangouts ended. You’d stay just a little longer, and then he’d take you home. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but for some weird reason you always felt much safer when you were with Miles, like he’d be able to protect you if anything were to happen when the two of you were together.
“Y/n?”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever been in love before?”
Miles’ voice was quiet, nearly drowned out from the lively sounds of the city around you. You were surprised you even heard it.
You swallowed, and it took so much effort to form your lips around the simple word you answered with. “W-what?”
He cleared his throat as his posture straightened slightly. “Like, do you know what love is? Is what I mean...” He clarified quickly, mentally cursing himself for how badly he worded things, even if it’s what he meant. He didn’t even know if you felt the same.
You lifted your head from his shoulder, prompting his own to turn towards you, but you didn’t meet his eyes. You settled for toying with the sleeve of his jacket as your heart began to thrum a little faster.
Nibbling at the inside of your lip, you inhaled quietly before answering. “When they’re the first person your mind thinks of when you hear the word ‘love’. Or maybe when the thought of them gets you out of bed in the morning instead of your alarm clock. You know when you know, basically. That’s what I was taught, and I think it checks out.” you glanced over at him, and he felt like time stopped when your eyes locked.
“Do you?” you asked.
“H-Huh?” Miles was enthralled with how pretty you looked, and how your features were perfectly illuminated by the gentle glow of the city lights, so much so that he could hardly think straight.
Rolling your eyes and suppressing a giggle, you shook your head at him. “—Do you know what love is, dummy.”
“Not exactly— uh, I don’t think so, no.” Miles’ jaw tensed and his gaze met yours once more. The twinkle in your eyes temporarily dimming due to the fear of this all being in your head.
“Oh.” you murmured.
“But I think I know what it feels like.” He said softly.
“Really?”
Lips parting slightly for a shaky breath to pass, Miles nodded. “Positive.”
Your eyes fell down to his lips almost immediately, then lifted back up to see that his had done the same to yours.
“Well… What does it feel like?”
The question left your mouth long before you could’ve thought to stop it, yet regret was the last thing you felt. What you were feeling was something entirely different.
Your faces grew closer until your noses brushed against each others, a second spared as a chance for either of you to bail on what you both knew was bound to happen in a matter of time.
He leaned in and you let him— let your arms curl around his neck and his around your waist so your lips could meet faster. Let your lips move against each other’s because it felt right, because that’s what you knew love to be. Letting something happen because it felt right.
He felt right.
Miles pulled away, but barely, his breath warm against your lips. “Come to my parent’s party tomorrow?” He blurted.
Hands holding the back of his neck, you blinked yourself out of your daze, brows furrowed. “What?”
“My dad, they’re making him police captain. We’re celebrating tomorrow, here, and I want you to come.” Miles licked his lips. “Well I— I was gonna invite you anyway. But now I really want you to come. And I wanted you to come before this happened, obviously—“
“I’d love to.” You smiled, and let him pull you back into him the second you’d given your answer.
Miles remembered what it was like to be so head over heels in love with someone that it consumed him entirely. How it corrupted his days and fogged his mind with nothing but the thought of them, and he could feel himself slipping back into it again, but this time, with you. And if he were being honest, it kind of scared him, how quickly you’d claimed his heart.
But what he did know was that you liked him, and he liked you. He’ll admit, he didn’t expect his feelings for you to develop as fast as they did, for them to hit him as hard as they had. But he was past that now. Tomorrow was going to be special, and not just for his family, but for the two of you. He was finally going to take the leap he’d been too scared to make before tonight.
You were the perfect girl, that he was sure of. And who’d be dumb enough to not accept perfect when it was right in front of them?
He wanted this. He wanted you.
But any chance for another sensical thought was interrupted when the impossible happened.
‘Impossible’, being the multi-layered hexagonal portal that suddenly opened up on his ceiling, and the blonde-haired, gap-toothed girl he thought he’d never see again, appearing with it.
Bright and beaming down at him with a heart-halting grin, Miles felt his stomach drop as soon as she spoke.
“Miles!”
Shit.
taglist: @burymeinside @secret-ssociety @whatamidoing89 @urmotherswhor3 @valovesyou @inlovewithfictionalppl @edgyficuselastica @motherwanda @mybfmiles @axeoverblade @miumiulicious @sukisprettyface @gwennesy @simpnotapimp @kanvis @cleo-dearts @retirement-home @lunaramune @silas-222 @citrusequalsfrogs @itsberrydreemurstuff @spritecranverry @mewhenimanangel @wisteriaflowersss
(if you asked to be tagged and i didn’t tag you, that’s because your user didn’t show up 💔)
747 notes · View notes
solarmorrigan · 2 months
Note
Hello there! I’m not entirely sure if you’re still doing the whole angsty-ish prompt thing, but if you are could please consider doing, “Shit, are you bleeding!?”, with steddie and Steve being the one bleeding?
Maybe Steve never actually took care of his bat wounds and they reopened or smth??
If not then that’s totally fine! Feel free to ignore :)
THIS IS VERY LATE, I'M SORRY. I know you sent this request months ago, and believe it or not, I didn't forget about it! It haunted me. (Not really, but I did keep it in mind, and I finally managed to get a little thing out for it! I hope this is a little like what you had in mind?)
[CW: blood, mentions of injury]
-
They’ve done it.
They’ve actually fucking done it.
They pulled off the whole stupid plan, no one is dead (except for Vecna), they’re right-side up, the gate has resealed itself – it’s over.
They won.
And now, there’s just one thing left to do.
Nothing official, really, just something Eddie had promised himself he would do if he actually managed to survive (odds hadn’t seemed to be in his favor at the time, so he hadn’t expected to have to follow through, but he’d also promised himself there would be no more running away). In a way, he’d promised Steve, too, so he thinks he’d better deliver.
(At least, he hopes that’s what he’d communicated to Steve; he hopes that’s what that meaningful look and that significant nod that passed between them had meant and that he’s not about to get his ass kicked after surviving the siege of a bat tornado in a mirror version of his trailer in a fucked up alternate dimension.)
Eddie gives Dustin one last affectionate pat on the back, skirts around where Robin is babbling something enthusiastically at Nancy, who looks a little too shellshocked to do much more than listen with an almost disbelieving smile, and makes it over to where Steve is standing by the front door. He’s got his back to the group, hunched over a little as he fiddles with something beneath his unzipped jacket, but he perks up the moment he hears Eddie’s voice.
“Steve,” Eddie calls, more quietly than the last time, but with no less gravity, and just like last time, Steve turns back, his gaze falling heavily on Eddie.
Before he can talk himself out of it, and horribly aware that this isn’t really the best time or place (but then again, if not here, then where? If not now, when?), Eddie steps closer, steps right into Steve’s space, cups one hand to his ash-smudged cheek, and leans in to kiss him.
He barely even has a moment to wonder if he’s made a monumental mistake before Steve is kissing him back, tilting his head and pressing closer and moving his lips against Eddie’s like this is all he’s ever wanted to do. If the rest of the trailer has fallen conspicuously silent, Eddie doesn’t notice.
The kiss doesn’t last long (not as long as Eddie would like), but that’s alright; it feels like there will probably be more.
“Wanted to do that earlier,” Eddie murmurs as they pull apart. “But I didn’t want you to think it was some kind of last-ditch wish fulfillment because I thought I was going to die. Figured now would be better.”
“Now is good,” Steve says softly; his eyes are a little hazy, a little unfocused (and damn, had Eddie done that?), but they find Eddie’s without trouble. "Now is great."
And then it’s Steve’s hands on Eddie’s face, curled carefully at the edges of his jaw, drawing him in for another kiss. It’s only the feeling of something wet sliding across Eddie’s skin that distracts him and makes him pull back. Steve’s hands fall away, and Eddie reaches up to swipe over his jaw and looks down at his hand.
His heart thumps when he sees red.
“Am I–?” He reaches up again, rubbing his fingers across his skin again, but he feels no pain, finds no injury. “Are you–?” Eddie looks now at Steve’s hand, heart jumping again when he sees more of the same smeared across Steve’s fingers. “Shit, are you bleeding?”
Steve frowns, reaching up with his clean hand to try to swipe the mess away with his thumb. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but he sounds distant now, a little breathless in a way that Eddie can’t blame on any kiss.
Eddie reaches out and spreads his hands under Steve’s jacket, pushing it open to get a good look at him, and finds the damning dark spots spreading across the fabric of the t-shirt underneath.
“Shit,” Eddie hisses. “Shit, shit, Steve–”
“Might’ve pulled something,” Steve murmurs, “fighting Vecna.”
“You think?” Eddie is aware that he’s getting a bit shrill, but he thinks that he really can’t be blamed. “Wheeler!”
Nancy is there in an instant, and Robin is at Steve’s side just as he starts to wobble. She gets an arm around his back and he hisses, reminding them all that the bat bites on his sides aren’t the only wounds he’d sustained.
And then Nancy is barking instructions, and Robin is talking, quiet and rapid-fire at Steve as they sit him down on the couch, and Dustin is demanding to know what’s wrong (and if Eddie thought he’d been getting shrill–), and Eddie only manages to get him out of the vicinity by telling him to go call an ambulance.
“He’s gonna be fine, Henderson, but we need help,” Eddie says firmly, giving him a shove in the direction of the phone. “We’ve got him, he’ll be fine.”
And Eddie hopes to God, to Satan, to who-the-fuck-ever it is he’s supposed to be praying to at this point, that he isn’t lying to the kid.
He’s just gotten Steve – he can’t lose him now.
227 notes · View notes
ssspideysense · 3 months
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₊˚ෆ bad habits
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summary: peter tends to act on impulse — that’s what got him here in the first place.
pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader
tags: fluff, pining, peter’s a hopeless romantic
wc: 2.7k
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What makes something a bad habit?
People usually use the phrase when they mean too much of something— too much coffee in the morning, too many cigarettes a day, too much to drink on the weekends. Overindulgence. Lack of self control.
Peter thought about this as he waited, the skin-tight material of his suit doing absolutely nothing to block the chilling rain running down his back. Past the city lights glimmering against her window pane, the apartment inside was dimly lit. He could make out the splash of colors against the hallway from the living room TV. It wouldn’t surprise him if she fell asleep on the couch again— she had a bad habit of staying up too late, biting off more than she could chew most nights and paying for it a few hours later. He wondered briefly, and hoped a bit selfishly, that he maybe had something to do with that.
He knocked again. Louder, in a little rhythm— bum ba bum, bum ba bum.
No more than once a week. That’s how it started out, however many months ago, when he crawled through that window for the first time. Swinging by more than one night a week would be way too much. He had things to do, really, and so did she. It wasn’t realistic to expect her to wait around, twiddling her pretty little thumbs, keeping her schedule free for a chance to let him into her bedroom window at 12:17 am.
12:18 am.
12:19 am.
Peter shivered. The cold had started to seep into his skin, but the chill that ran up and down his spine wasn’t from the sudden downpour.
Even the glimpse of her figure, a dark silhouette he could pick out in any city crowd, was enough to set off that tingle in the base of his skull, even for just a moment. He watched her scurry over to the window, an apologetic look tugging on her face.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t hear you,” she said, and her voice was music slipping over the smack of raindrops against the iron fire escape, “oh my God, get in here, will you?”
If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. Sometimes he was grateful for the mask and the few freedoms it allowed him—
“Wait here.”
—she couldn’t see the way his entire face lit up as he happily maneuvered through the window, or the way his eyes followed her as she wandered over to her linen closet to grab a towel for him.
Peter stood in a puddle on her hardwood. Obedient, embarrassingly so.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked. In the relative dark of her quiet bedroom, she handed him the towel, gazing up at him with the kind of eyes that make poets pick up pens.
“I should probably be saying yes, since it’s midnight, but I’m going to be disappointing and say no,” she chuckled under her breath and took a small step back.
Peter wrapped the towel around his shoulders like a kid getting out of the pool. It smelled like her laundry detergent, a scent he never thought he’d catch himself daydreaming about when he was miles away and objectively much busier with something much more pressing.
He had a bad habit of letting his mind wander, especially when it wanted to grip onto memories of her.
“You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning,” he replied.
She sent him a pointed look with a raised brow. “And so are you, when you wake up sick. What the hell are you doing? Does the song Itsy Bitsy Spider not ring a bell?”
She fussed over him. He liked it when she fussed over him.
“Yeah, y’know, the part where he climbs up the spout again is my favorite, actually.”
There was a pair of sweatpants and a big hoodie thrown at him before he could even pretend to argue against them.
“I’ll put some coffee on,” she said, gliding away, leaving him to drip quietly in her bedroom as he watched her back disappear down the hall.
“Decaf?” he called after her.
“Do you really want decaf?” she called right back.
She’d slipped from view, little clinks and clunks from the kitchen catching his ears. Peter shrugged the towel from his shoulders and started to peel his suit off. It’d become a second skin, literally and figuratively, clinging to every inch of him, making him shudder as the warmth of her apartment replaced the cold wrap of wet spandex.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind, bug— trying to be more health conscious this year,” Peter replied with a grin. In reality, he knew she’d be up all night and woefully exhausted the next day if she got her hands on some regular coffee, so he’d gladly take one for the team with decaf.
He stood at the foot of her bed in his boxers, looking down at the change of clothes she insisted upon him.
It was strange, the way Peter was utterly exposed like this, not even behind a closed door for a breath of privacy, but it didn’t bother him. The suit and the mask sat in a heap next to her radiator and it didn’t matter. He pulled the comfortable cotton up to his hips and slipped the hoodie over his head.
Soft, warm, foreign yet familiar all at once.
He heard her footsteps, heard them pause at the mouth of the hallway. The gut-drop feeling of meeting her gaze unobstructed, bare-faced and messy haired, wasn’t the same as it was the first time. Or the second, or third— she knew his face just as well as he knew hers at this point. Anxiety faded over time, replaced with a new, giddy sort of rush that started in his chest and spread over his body in waves.
She made him feel like a teenager again, and she didn’t even have to do anything. It was a little pathetic, maybe, how much he looked forward to these kinds of nights, but he’d ruminate about that later in the quiet of his bed.
Peter padded his way down the hall to her, moving through the space like he belonged there. He took in her small smile as she leaned back against the kitchen island. The smell of coffee hit him once the machine started to gurgle softly on the counter.
“Are you still cold? I can crank up the heat,” she offered as he drew closer. Her gaze fell on his mouth then— more specifically, the cut on his bottom lip. A little hiss escaped her as she reached up and brushed her thumb beside it.
He looked down at her with a slightly amused expression, watching her brows furrow down as she examined his face.
“No, it’s fine. I’m already walking around in your clothes, waiting on a cup of your coffee. I feel like a Tinder date that’s vastly overstayed his welcome, and I just got here,” Peter quipped, letting her turn his head by his jaw and study him some more. Her soft fingers caught his stubble but she didn’t seem to mind.
She arched a brow at him and eventually pulled her hand back. “I’ve never had a Tinder date crawl into my eighth-story window before.”
“I’m not really an expert on romance, but something tells me that’s a good thing.”
Her hum was low as she turned and gathered two mugs from the cupboard above her. “Tinder isn’t exactly the place to look for romance anyway, Spidey,” she sat them down with a clink.
Spidey.
He’d chosen to start with his face last summer. A bold choice, truly, but it felt like the safer option at the time. There was eight million people in New York— a couple thousand guys were bound to look just like him.
A face without a name was the tiniest breadcrumb he could drop to satiate that need, that desire to feel seen by her in some capacity without completely laying himself out there.
It was a dance he didn’t know the steps to. But she played along well, stumbling in the dark with him and letting him lead, however awkward and shaky.
Peter leaned against the counter and watched her pour two cups. “It’s not? I’m not really in the dating scene. Do people still meet out in the wild these days?”
And she gave him that little chuckle under her breath he liked. “You sound old,” she mused as she reached into her fridge. The pale light bathed her in a sweet, domestic sort of glow that one could only feel in sweatpants in the kitchen after midnight.
“Hey— I’m only twenty-six,” he countered, dipping his head despite the little grin growing on his face.
He watched her pause, just for a moment.
Another breadcrumb. A thread.
But she didn’t draw too much attention to it. Peter pictured her tucking it away for future reference.
“Well, to answer your question, yes. I guess people do still meet out in the wild,” she poured the creamer and scooped the sugar and reminded him that she knew so much about him without really knowing him, not yet, and he both loved and hated that, “but I’m probably not the best person to ask about all that. I think if a man randomly approached me in a bookstore or something, I’d probably assume he was some kind of weirdo.”
Peter hummed, his brow furrowed but his lips twitched into a lopsided grin. His fingers were cold when he gently accepted the drink from her.
“Alright, noted. What about guys that fall out of the sky and crash into your fire escape?”
He peered at her over the top of the mug as he took the longest, hottest drink of his life— anything to avoid the reality of what he just said for a few moments longer.
His throat burned, but it was fine.
The air felt heavier then, thick like the air outside as her gaze flicked over his face.
“That depends. Is he kind of awkward in a weirdly charismatic way?”
And Peter swallowed down the lava for a chance at a deeper breath without choking, “I mean— in this completely hypothetical and improbable scenario, yeah, I’d— I’d say so,” he replied.
The corners of her mouth curled up softly. “And did he come back a week later, trying to apologize with four different types of candy at ten o’clock at night?”
He cleared his throat to try and hide the chuckle that almost slipped out. “He didn’t know what kind you liked,” Peter said, that heat trickling up to his face for a different reason.
She blew on her coffee before sipping it, because she clearly had more sense than he did, and shrugged.
“Helping you out with a broken nose and a concussion makes for a more interesting story to look back on,” she replied softly.
This line they were toeing was a tightrope, strung high and taught and delicate.
Sometimes Peter wanted to take the leap. Just dive right onto the other side, tugging her along with him.
The clock on the stove read 12:37.
12:38.
“Do you think about it? The night we met?”
And she sat her mug down on the counter beside her. The sweater she wore was loose and comfortable on her frame as she crossed her arms. “Sometimes.”
“Just sometimes?”
“Do you?” she countered, tilting her head just a bit to the side as she gazed up at him.
Peter leaned back. His mug was empty, the roof of his mouth was a bit sore, but he swallowed regardless. “I do, sometimes.”
“Just sometimes?”
The rain outside picked up. It smacked against her windows with the whistle of wind just underneath it all.
“Sometimes, when I can’t sleep. I’m usually thinking about the last time I saw you, though. Much clearer picture there,” he said.
She rolled her eyes and looked off to the side, though her soft, slight smile cut the air of annoyance she tried to hold on to.
“Stop,” she mumbled, shaking her head, “that’s not fair.” He had a feeling he knew what she meant— and he had to agree, watching her avoid his gaze.
Peter reached a hand out to pull her arms out of their closed off, crossed position. Despite the tension in her shoulders, she was soft, pliable, letting him grasp her wrists and guide her forward gently into his torso.
He wrapped around her, his nose in her hair, committing the scent of her shampoo to memory.
“I know,” he mumbled back.
She was quiet, her cheek pressed against his chest in that borrowed hoodie she thought he looked criminally good in. After a few moments of his fingers lightly tracing shapes between her shoulder blades, she sucked in a breath. “That’s not fair, either, Spidey.” And she was right again.
He had a bad habit of trying to fix everything.
“Peter,” he said, his voice low against her roots, “it’s Peter.”
The wind shook the windows. She was nearly laying on him with how he held her, his long frame leaned back, arms circled around her shoulders. His breath came in calculated waves, but she could feel the rhythm changing the longer she stayed silent, along with his heartbeat under her ear.
A deep breath in, a deep breath out.
“Peter,” she tried it out, and it felt like hearing her voice for the first time.
His fingers splayed over her back and his palm smoothed up her spine. “Yes?” he mumbled back.
She had a bad habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve, at least around him.
“I think I might have a thing for guys who fall out of the sky and crash into my fire escape.”
Overindulgence, lack of self control— whatever it was, it didn’t matter, really. Peter smiled against her scalp. A low rumble of a chuckle vibrated through his chest. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head once, twice, and squeezed her against him.
She let out a little grunt in response, feeling too much like a squeaky toy to not laugh. “Pe—Peter—super strength, remember?”
“Right, yeah— my bad, bug,” he loosened his hold just enough for her to look up at him, her palms now flat on his chest between them. “But, y’know, you have some pretty weird tastes. I should’ve known when you picked the gummy bears over the Reese’s.”
12:52. He had one foot dangling on the other side of that line he spent far too long thinking about.
And she laughed that laugh and scrunched her nose up the way she did when she found something amusing, yet dumb. She did that a lot when he talked. He took it as a personal victory every time.
“You really don’t have any room to call me weird. You run around the city in spandex every night,” she mused, her lips curled into a smile.
“It makes me aerodynamic.”
“Yeah, you were real aerodynamic when you smacked your head on the rail—“
Peter was never really a planner. It made sense in the moment, to lean in and kiss her, his hands shifting to either side of her jaw. And it made sense the way she hummed into his mouth, either from surprise or the fact that she was very much in the middle of a sentence. But it was alright, because they stood there in the middle of her dark kitchen at 12:55 am, and her lips were soft, much softer than his.
He decided he could excuse every one of his bad habits, maybe write them off as quirks instead, because as he kissed her, he realized that every single one had led him right there; drinking decaf coffee in borrowed sweatpants, listening to the rain and her deepened breathing.
She pulled away just enough to speak, their lips still brushing against each other, “I wasn’t done—“
“Neither was I,” his tone was nothing but a playful tease, and he kissed her again, “how rude of you to interrupt me like that,” and again, “honestly, sometimes I can’t believe the lack of manners in this city.”
Her laugh was grounding when his head was busy floating. She smacked his chest lightly. “Lack of manners? Let’s start with you. You crawl in through my window soaking wet, drink my coffee in my clothes that I totally don’t keep around for you just in case, and kiss me without permission,” she gave him the grocery list and he nodded to each point over-attentively, humming along.
“Right, yeah— you forgot the part where I interrupted you.”
“And you interrupted m—“
Peter kissed her again.
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velocesainz · 3 months
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Hiiiiiii would you want to do
Childhood bsf Annabeth chase x Apollo reader who is dying of an illness that can't be cured , only Luke and reader know about it and reader refuses to tell anyone else, wanting Annabeth not to worry thinking that reader just gets sick often.
When Annabeth leaves for a quest when reader's sicker then normal only to come back and reader is gone only leaving a sentimental gift to both Luke and her behind with a letter saying goodbye and sorry something like that ?
She/her or they/them please do tell if you cannot write this
I love this request, thank you so much!
Summary: reader is dying of a terminal disease and nobody knows except Luke. Annabeth sees that reader is getting sick but doesn’t think much of it but realised when it’s too late
Warnings: very sad, angstyyy, mentions of death
Pairing: Annabeth Chase (platonic) x Apollo! Fem! Reader, Luke castellan (platonic) x Apollo! Fem! Reader
A/n: this might be the saddest thing I’ve ever written and I’m here for it. Make sure to request!
Percy jackson masterlist | Main masterlist
Improper Goodbyes
Reader pov:
I was in the bathroom in the apollo cabin spewing my guts out into the bowl along with blood. I found out I had cancer a few days ago since father had sent me a letter (I am the favourite child).
I was just sitting on the floor thinking about how I was just going to disappear. I felt relief but also was overwhelmed by the faces of all my siblings and friends especially Annabeth, my best friend since the day I was born.
I was sitting there thinking about all the good times I had at camp when the door burst open revealing Luke, my other best friend.
“Hey y/n I was thinking about heading out to pick some strawber- what happened?” Luke asked incredibly worried seeing the blood in toilet bowl.
I didn’t want to tell him but he deserved to know. As one of um closest friends he deserved to know what was wrong with me.
“I-I have cancer Luke. Leukaemia stage 3. Incurable” I told as I saw his face drop with every word I said
“H-H-How long do you have left?” He asked me and I could see tears springing into his eyes
“6 months maximum. I’m sorry Luke” I told him and looked away, I couldn’t bear to see Luke crying
“We’re going to make these 6 months the best you’ve ever experienced. Let me just tell ever-“
“No Luke. You’re not telling a single soul about this.” I cut him off
I looked back at him and he gave me a sad smile. He was upset that I wouldn’t let him tell anyone but he also wanted to respect my wishes.
“Alright then. But if Annabeth finds out and tells the rest of the camp don’t blame me! Now come on, we have memories to make” Luke said as he dragged me out of the Apollo cabin
Timeskip:
I was talking to Annabeth by the fire when I felt nauseous again. This is the 5th this happened today and Annabeth seemed to be catching on slowly
“Hey y/n are you alright? You seem to be extremely pale and sickly looking recently” Annabeth asked me
“Yea I’m fine, just been a little under the weather recently” I lied through my teeth
“Nothing a little ambrosia can’t fix! I’ll go get some for you right now” Annabeth said as she got up but I pulled her right back down
“There’s no need for that Annabeth. I have some back in the cabin, I’ll drink it before going to bed don’t worry about me” I tried reassuring her but she didn’t really seem to buy it
Annabeth pov:
Why was y/n acting so weird? It’s weird enough that she’s been sick for so long and in top of that she refuses to take ambrosia even though she takes it multiple times a day when she is sick.
Am I missing something here?
No Annabeth, you’re overthinking it. She’s a child of Apollo, she can take care of herself.
“Annabeth, Percy and Grover please join me up front here” Chiron called out probably to inform us of another quest.
I was really getting fed up of being dragged by Percy everywhere for his troubles and quests. I wanted to spend more time with the others at camp.
I want to take care of y/n like how she took care of me.
I rarely even see her anymore since she’s mostly just locked in her cabin or I’m on a quest with seaweed brain.
I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I hope this ends soon.
Timeskip:
I was packing up for the quest and just as we were about to leave y/n came up to me along with Luke .
“Can I hug you? I really want to get a hug from you before you leave for another long quest” she also mumbled something at the end about this being her last hug or something but I didn’t pay much attention to that.
“Of course honey! You don’t even need to ask, you know I absolutely adore your hugs” I said as I hugged her.
I then realised how much thinner she had gotten. I could feel the bones in her back as I hugged her.
I again didn’t pay attention to it because some people here at half-blood have had really bad flu and other diseases but have always recovered from it.
But this time felt different. I felt a strong twine in my gut. Something was wrong.
Probably in the quest. That always happens.
Y/n pov:
I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker day by day and I knew my last few moments were drawing closer.
I started writing letters to the ones I cared most about and also gave all my stuff away leaving only the sentimental pieces for the ones who mattered the most to me
It hurt to let go of this beautiful place but our fates have been decided and there is nothing we can do to change it.
As I laid on my death bed surrounded by my cabin mates and Luke they told me how much I meant to them and how much they will miss me.
I couldn’t focus on that however. I just wished Annabeth was here with me. I wanted to say a proper goodbye but she wasn’t here.
I felt my eyelids grow heavier and heavier. I could barely speak but I had to tell Luke what I wanted to say to Annabeth.
“Luke tell Annabeth that she was the most amazing friend I could ever ask for and also give her this” I told told him as I gave him a letter that I had addressed to Annabeth.
Luke pov:
I couldn’t believe it. My best friend was dead and her last wish to see her childhood best friend couldn’t be fulfilled.
I felt grief sadness and guilt overcome me as I feel to my knees next to her body.
The only person who truly understood me was dead. How was I to move on?
I walked with heavy steps to my cabin and I saw her ring on my bed with a letter.
That ring meant to much to her. It was given by her mother and it contained the most beautiful sapphire I had ever seen.
She never let anyone touch it since it meant so much to her. I guess I meant just as much to her as this ring.
I looked at the contents in my hand. Annabeth’s letter along with a small box.
If only Annabeth was here. Y/n would’ve passed away surrounded by all of whom she loved.
Annabeth pov:
I returned to camp after the quest but that feeling never went away.
Everyone at camp looked grim and depressed, especially the Apollo kids and Luke.
I tried to look around for y/n but I couldn’t fine her anywhere.
Luke came up to me and handed me a letter and a small blue velvet box.
“Y/n wanted you to have this. It was her last and only wish” Luke said with a coarse and scratchy voice. It sounded like he had cried for hours.
“What do you mean last and only wish? Is y/n ok? What happened to her?” I asked Luke hoping to find some answers but he just gave me a sad look.
“Read the letter. You’ll understand everything” he told me and left
I hurriedly opened the letter and read what was written:
Dear Annabeth,
I hope I was able to give this to you in person but if not then so be it. You have been my best friend for over 10 years at this point and our friendship was the most cherished thing I ever had. You made me laugh, think, enjoy life and many more things. I’m sorry we couldn’t grow old together like we said we would but just know I’ll always be supporting you along the way. I have stage 4 leukaemia and it is incurable. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier but I didn’t want to worry you. This is getting really long but I just wanted to let you know that you were the best thing in my life and I will always be with you in your heart. Please don’t grieve over me. I love you.
Your best friend,
Y/n
Tears pooled in my eyes as I continued reading the letter. After I finished I opened the small box which had her necklace inside it.
Her most prized possession.
It was given by her father. A bow and arrow pendant with the most beautiful diamond I had ever seen. She wouldn’t even let people see it forget touching it.
How was I to live without my best friend? I can’t be without her.
Why are the gods so cruel? Why did they have to take her away?
I broke down in the middle of the field crying.
Everyone passing by gave me sad looks and walked away knowing I’d want to be left alone.
My best friend was dead. My sister. My lifeline. My support and my soul had been ripped away from me.
All she wanted was to see me before she died and I couldn’t even do that. What kind of a friend was I?
She was gone and there was nothing I could do to bring her back.
A/n: Let me know your guys feedback on this and let me know what other people/genres you want me to write about! Requests are open. Kissies ✨
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riboism · 2 years
Text
ateez headcannon | innocent things you do that drive them crazy
a/n: someone sent me this request a while back, and i’m so sorry but I think I deleted it by mistake :( I hope whoever that person was sees this, and I’m sorry it took so long to make! They never specified if they wanted this to be fluff or smut, so I kinda did both lol.
genre: fluff, suggestive (nothing crazy)
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Seonghwa: When you put on makeup. Especially lipstick.
You always took forever getting ready, and that would really piss off your very punctual boyfriend. One evening, he barged into your room, annoyed to see that you were still getting ready when you two were already ten minutes late for the dinner reservation. “Do you know how hard it was to get a reservation here?” he nagged, “The restaurant is half an hour away, and that’s not including the five o’clock traffic that’s gonna…” He trailed off as he watched you apply your lipstick. The sight of you opening your mouth wide and rubbing the cherry red nub over your lips made his knees weak. From then on, he never complained about your tardiness again. Instead, he’ll lay on your bed after getting ready, resting his head onto his palm as he watches you play with your makeup. He admired how you knew just what to do; how much blush to put on, what colors to blend over your eyes, how steady your hand was as you drew on perfect black lines over your lids, and of course, how sultry you looked when you pouted your lips and rubbed the bright red color on. He especially loves it when you go over the red with a lip gloss. The way your juicy red lips moved when you talked was mesmerizing, and he’d feel only a little bad when you’d ask him if he was still listening to you. He thought your lips looked even more kissable, but you never allowed him to kiss you, afraid that he’ll ruin your makeup. But your pleas went in one ear and out the other, and Seonghwa leans in anyway for a messy and passionate kiss. You’d be so annoyed afterwards, digging into your bag for your compact mirror so that you could fix this mess. Some of the color would transfer onto his lips, but Seonghwa never bothered to wipe it off. Instead, he’ll walk around happily, proud to show off the glossy red lips that he now shared with you.
Hongjoong: When you wear something that he bought for you. 
It’s safe to say that about 60% of your closet was stuff that Hongjoong bought for you. You’d tell him to go to the store to pick up a gallon of milk, and he’ll come back with a brand new outfit for you instead. One night, you arrived to the resturant where your boyfriend waited for you at the corner table. He was stunned to see you in the silky green dress he had bought for you just months ago. Of course, he was the one who picked it out, but he never imagined just how good you’d look in it. Too bad, he thought to himself, too bad I’ll have to rip it off of you when we get home.
Yunho: When you come back from a run.
Yunho was fast asleep while you went out on your early morning run. You came back half an hour later, the sound of you rummaging through the drawers for a towel awaking him from his slumber. He loved how you looked after your work out; your hair all messy with a few flyaways sticking out, your cheeks flushed from all the circulation. He admired how your sports bra always matched your leggings, and the way the pants hugged your thighs so perfectly. Yunho pretend to be asleep, opening his eyes just enough to watch you strip from your sweaty workout clothes. You’d never guess how much your sweaty, tired, and out of breath state turned him on. How badly he wanted to touch you, to give you another reason to be out of breath. But he knew you’d never let him anywhere near you when you were like this, and so he would have to reach down and take care of his hard on by himself before you come back out from the shower.
Yeosang: When you get your nails done.
The first thing you did when you got home from the salon was show your boyfriend Yeosang your new set. He stopped playing his game and took your hands into his. He examined your acrylics, admiring the pretty designs and colors on each nail. You usually did earthy or nude colors, but today you decided to do a bubblegum pink shade. Something about the color pink on your nails gave Yeosang a rush. He lost himself in a daydream, imagining how pretty your hands would look right now, gripped around his hard cock. “What do you think?” you asked, a little concerned with how quiet he was. You worried that maybe he didn’t like it. “Is it the almond shape? Or the color? I thought I’d try something different today. Is it bad?” He snapped out of his daydream and gave you a reassuring smile. “No, no. It’s pretty. I like it.” He brought your hands up to his lips, giving them a quick peck before swiveling back on his chair and returning to his game.
San: When you play with the drawstrings of his sweatpants.
You walked up behind San as he cut up some garlic. “What are you making?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Well I wanted to make mac n cheese, but the store didn’t have any colby jack, can you believe that? So I...” your fingers twiddled with his drawstrings, untying and retying it as he went on tell you about the grocery store fiasco. It was a habit of yours to play with his drawstrings, sort of like a fidget thing. You didn’t really think much of it. Sometimes you didn’t even realize that you were doing it. Your boyfriend, however, was very aware of this habit of yours, and it never failed to turn him into putty. The feel of your fingers so dangerously close to his waistband made him a little dizzy. The confident boy you were met with when you first walked into the kitchen was now a stuttering mess “and um...and I thought m-maybe I can make something with uh...with pesto...” You let go of his drawstrings and gave him a quick peck on the cheek “Sounds great. Let me know if you need any help.” Needless to say, he did need your help, but not with dinner.
Mingi: When you play with his hair.
Mingi’s loved lazy Sunday’s with you on the couch. You were reading a book when he came into the room, and he invited himself to come sit next to you. He laid his head on your lap, signaling you to play with his hair. Without looking away from your book, you brought your free hand down and ran your fingers through his silky hair. Your fingers grazed at the side of his head, rubbing them gently over his ear lobe. That was his sweet spot and it turned him into a drooling mess. He was completely paralyzed from your addicting touch. He wished you two could stay like this forever. Although this was just a sweet and mindless activity, Mingi couldn’t help but have perverted thoughts. As you read on, Mingi thought about how good it would feel if you played with his hair like this while he goes down on you. He’d probably fall asleep right between your legs.
Wooyoung: When you're sick.
Wooyoung loved being babied. But he loves babying you even more. You're pretty independent, which was something he both adored and hated. He wanted to be able to take care of you sometimes, but you never let him. He tried to hide his excitement when you told him that you were coming down with something. Now was his chance.
Wooyoung thought you were so cute when you were weak and needy. Despite you telling him that it wasn’t a serious illness, that you had the cold under control, he still insisted on tucking you into bed, blowing on a spoonful of hot soup before feeding it into your mouth, and making you endless cups of tea. And when your sinuses kept you up at night, he didn’t hesitate to slip a hand into your panties, giving you a slow and gentle orgasm to help put you to sleep.
Jongho: When you ask him to kill a bug for you/ when you’re scared.
You hated when the weather got warmer and sticker because that meant you had to deal with seeing unwanted visitors in your home. One night, when you were getting ready to shower, you noticed a very creepy looking centipede hanging around the shower drain. A shiver went down your spine, and you immediately ran to Jongho. He looked up from his phone, instantly knowing what was wrong from the scared expression on your face. “Where is it?”
“Shower drain” you replied, your voice a little shaky. He sighed as he walked over to the bathroom to take care of the situation. Jongho would act annoyed with how frequently you came to him for help in these situations, but secretly he liked it. He liked that he was the first person you’d run to for help. He also liked how you’d hide behind him, watching nervously as he disposed of the pest. He thought it was cute how you squirmed around when he’d chase you with the napkin he used to collect the dead bug. As sadistic as it sounds, it kind of turned him on.
When it was his turn to pick a movie for movie night, he always picked horror. He loved seeing you get all tense, clinging onto his arm right before a jumpscare. He was your security blanket, and he was happy to be the one to protect you, to be the one you felt most safe with.
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taglist: @hyuckilstan​ @ateezsatinysworld
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probably-writing-x · 20 days
Text
Better For You
Spencer White x Reader
Summary: You knew Spencer outside of his ‘Spider’ persona. You knew the boy he was outside of the school crowd. But when the two worlds collide, will you see him for who he actually is?
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of spiking, cursing
———
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“Spencer White?” You glance up from the diary in front of you, “Starting today?”
The tall boy in front of you clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. You can call me Spider.”
You scrunch your nose at his request, “Yeah I’m not gonna do that.”
He scoffs, “Alright, and what do I call you?”
“(Y/n),” You respond, “It’s just us two today so I can show you the ropes.”
“Can’t be that hard right? Sell people tickets, serve popcorn, pour a few drinks?”
You stare at him with a black expression, evidently unimpressed.
He looks down at his feet and then back up to you, “Okay, where do I start?”
Spencer was about the same age as you, you assumed. Your boss had said he came across as ‘confident and enthusiastic’ in his interview but both of those things seemed a little uncertain now.
You’d been working at the movie theater for nearly a year now, your uncle knew the manager so you’d been a shoo in from the moment you were old enough to work. It was long hours, late days, annoying customers, but it earned you money and that was all it needed to do.
“Let’s start with popcorn.”
———
That was two months ago now. You now spent nearly every shift with Spencer. He made the long nights feel like they ended earlier. He snuck you free food, dealt with the annoying customers for you, sped around the screens quicker than you so you didn’t have to do as much cleaning. He took extra hours so he could work when you worked.
You’d learnt in that two months that he was working here after an argument with his mum where she told him he’d never worked a day in his life. He’d taken this job to prove her wrong. That was on one of your late night shifts after a midnight screening. It was just the two of you and he was evidently down, evidently in need of someone to talk to. He’d opened up to you. You’d told him that you were sorry, though you weren’t exactly sure what for. He’d laughed and told you that if his Mum saw him like this she’d tell him this wasn’t work.
He drove you home that night, same as every night. And he thanked you before you got out of the car. He didn’t tell you what for, just said ‘thank you”. He needed it more than you did.
Now, he had your number and you had his. And you texted when you weren’t at work together. He sent you songs he thought you’d like, mainly from rock bands he’d heard at a concert that weekend. You sent him films he should watch and he forced himself to watch them, giving you a running commentary with text updates every few minutes.
You spoke to him more than you spoke to your other friends. You told him things before you told them nowadays too. But you two never saw each other outside of work. Separate schools, separate lives.
“Here,” You hand him over a stack of medium cups to add to the supplies at the counter.
Spencer takes them from you, loading them up onto the pyramid of cups you’d been making. It was a quiet day.
“You know if these fall you’re picking them up,” You comment, handing him another two cups.
Spencer adds them too and steps back with his hands raised as if he’s going to catch it, “Yeah, yeah, I figured.”
You grin, both of you admiring your handiwork.
“So,” He steps back to lean against the machine behind him, “I had a question.”
“A question,” You repeat, “Mysterious.”
“I know we’re not working on Saturday. My mates are having a party at the weekend, it’s stupid really, like this graveyard thing,” He shakes his head, “I was just… would you… would you want to come?”
You frown a little, as if taken aback but not wanting to admit it, “Are you…”
“You don’t have to, it’s a stupid idea really, I don’t know why we-“
“Yeah, I’ll come,” You nod, “I’m not here, so I’ve got nothing else to do.”
He smiles, “Alright, well then it’s a date.”
“Is it?” You cock a brow, folding your arms over your chest.
“I-“ His cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, “Shut up.”
Spencer rolls his eyes and steps forward, collapsing down the pyramid of cups into stacks in front of him.
———
Spencer texts you the location and you walk there as the sun’s going down - a little later than he’d suggested so you didn’t look awkward and eager.
It’s eerie when you think of it - a clearing in a graveyard converted into a party location. There’s already a crowd building, a mismatched stack of alcohol at one side and a littering of people you didn’t recognise mingling around.
Why had you agreed to come? You didn’t know a single soul here beyond Spencer. And surely he had other friends he’d want to see? The thoughts of turning around and pretending to have never arrived start coursing through your head. Your feet come to a stop, as if you’re preparing to disappear back into the surroundings.
“There you are!”
And there he is.
Through the crowd, you spot the familiar sight of that blonde floppy hair. The way his face curls up into that signature smile. He’s holding a red solo cup in each of his hands, extending them wide as if hugging you through the air.
“Was starting to think you weren’t coming.”
“Yeah, I’m still not sure about the whole… graveyard thing.”
Spencer laughs, “Yeah you just need to drink enough so you don’t think about it.”
He hands one of the cups to you and you take a sip.
“Careful, they’re probably spiked,” A girl walks past the two of you, eying Spencer with evident disgust.
She’s got dark short hair and a brightly coloured jacket with a black dress and she looks at you as if shes worried about you.
“Fuck off Amerie,” Spencer snaps, rolling his eyes at her.
You glance up at him and back to her and she offers you a small smile like she’s trying to warn you of something. She walks off over to another group of people and Spencer turns back to you.
“What was tha-“
“Come on, I want to introduce you to some people,” He places a hand gently on the middle of your back as if guiding you through the crowd.
There’s a group of boys over the other side, shouting loudly at each other and making vulgar gestures to go alongside whatever conversation they were having.
“Oi dickheads,” Spencer calls over, “Be normal for a minute, ay?”
The boys stop and turn around, both of them looking at you and then back to their friend.
“This is (Y/n),” He looks down at you and then back to them.
“(Y/n)!” One of the boys grins widely, “We’ve heard a lot about you. You moved in by Spider right?”
“Wh-“
“This is Ant, and that’s Dusty,” Spencer gestures between the two of them before you can say anything else.
“Nice to meet you,” You smile softly, “You know Spencer from school?”
“Yeah, basically since we could walk,” Dusty smiles at you, “We can tell you all the gory details.”
“Alright, alright, I’m right here,” Spencer shakes his head, standing close enough to you that his side is against yours, his arm still placed on your back.
He’s got that way about him. The feeling that you could just melt into his connection. You couldn’t explain it, but in a crowd of people you didn’t know, you were glad he was still beside you.
———
“So how does the dunny situation work here?”
Spencer turns to you and laughs, the two of you now at the edge of the party as people had started dancing in the middle. It was dark now, and you were stood just inches closer to Spencer to make the most of his radiating warmth.
“You find a spot where nobody can see you, and you put in some squat training,” He smiles, the kind of smile that creases his eyes.
“Oh how glamorous,” You wiggle your brows, placing your cup into his hand, “I’ll be right back.”
His fingertips linger on yours as your hand pulls away from his, his eyes lingering on you for even longer as you walk away.
You trail out away from the crowd and down a small path away from any prying eyes until you bump into the sound of giggling girls just ahead of you.
“Oh shit, sorry, I was just looking for somewhere to piss,” You clear your throat.
“Hey, wait, wait, wait,” One of the girls looks over to you, “You’re the girl that Spider was with right?”
It was the girl from earlier. The one Spencer had told to fuck off.
“Yeah, I’m (Y/n),” You offer a smile.
The girl’s friend stands up and zips up her trousers, both of them walking closer to you.
“I don’t want to sound like a cunt, but just be careful with him,” The girl, Amerie says.
“Am,” The other girl hits her arm, “You’re going to scare the poor girl.”
You look at her and fold your arms around you as if shrinking away from them, evidently uncomfortable.
“He’s just…” The other girl begins, “Very outspoken. He’s not exactly the nicest guy at Hartley.”
“He’s a grade A cunt,” Amerie adds, “And you seem like way too good for him.”
“Alright, we’re gonna go before Amerie says anything worse,” The other girl confirms, “Have a good night yeah?”
They both walk past you and you stand stuck in your spot, repeating over everything they had said. Spencer had been the nicest boy ever since you’d known him. He was thoughtful and funny and he was who you looked forward to seeing every shift. But everyone here seemed to be talking about a different boy when it came to him. To the girls, he was like the worst guy they’d known. And why had he lied to the boys about how he knew you?
“(Y/n)?”
You turn in your spot to see him stood behind you, far enough away that you can only make out his silhouette in the dark.
“You’d been a while, I was just making sure you were okay,” He speaks so softly you feel your heart skip a little.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” You clear your throat, walking towards him.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer offers, “I reckon the coppers will be here soon.”
“Yeah,” You smile at him lightly, “I’ll probably book an Uber-“
He holds his cup out towards you, “I’m not drinking. I’ll drive you home.”
Spencer tugs his jacket off from his shoulder and places it around yours his hand slipping down beside your arm until his hand is hovering beside yours. You interlock your hand with his and he smiles once more, like he’s relieved at the contact.
———
The drive back isn’t far, and the empty roads make it even quicker. Spencer still indicates every time he needs to, drives the limit rather than anything over, glances at you every so often to make sure you were okay in the passenger seat.
He pulls up in front of your house and shuts off the engine.
“So, will you be rushing back to a graveyard party any time soon?” He leans his head back against the headrest and turns it towards you.
“I think I’ll stick to the beach or a house party for now,” You nod, running your hands over the cold skin of your thighs.
Spencer laughs, “Yeah I-“
“Can I ask you something?” You interject, the thought practically spilling from your mind.
He frowns, nodding slightly.
“Why did the boys think I was your neighbour? Did you not tell them we worked together?”
Spencer swallows the lump in his throat, “I didn’t tell them about the job.”
You furrow your brows, “Is working at a movie theater really that bad?”
He lets out a deep breath, “It’s not that.”
There’s a stillness in the air between you. That sort of tension that he always managed to dissipate. He’s calm and yet the air seems to be full of all the nerves he could muster in your presence.
“I don’t really talk to them about anything with my Mum, or home, or anything. And I guess I figured if they knew about the job they’d start asking questions and it’s just… not something I tell people.”
“You told me.”
Spencer chuckles a little, “You’re easier to talk to.”
You smile at him and the tension in his shoulders seems to relax a little, “I guess I can pretend to be your neighbour next time.”
“Next time?” He raises his brows, “So you did like the graveyard.”
You laugh, your gaze averting to the darkness looming over your house, not a single light on.
“So, my parents are away,” You say quietly, like you’re now the one holding all of the nervous energy, “Do you want to… I mean you could…”
“Yeah.”
You laugh, unsure at what point in your time knowing him had it become so easy for Spencer to make you nervous.
———
He sits at the end of the bed whilst you get ready in the bathroom. You take off your makeup, wash your face, tie back your hair and change into your pyjamas. They were one of the cuter sets you owned - different to the normal baggy t-shirt you’d wear. But if there was ever a time to wear a nicer set, it was whilst Spencer would be the one you were sharing a bed with.
When you walk back in, he looks up from the book he had in his hands - one he’d taken from your nightstand.
“Didn’t think that would be your kind of thing,” You nod towards it, walking over to your side of the bed.
“Too many big words,” He smiles, setting it back down and shuffling backwards on the bed.
He was wearing only his t-shirt and boxers now - his other clothes folded in a pile on the chair in front of your vanity.
“Okay we’ve got a problem here,” You comment, looking down at him.
“What’s that?” He asks, swinging his legs around so that he’s sat at the side of the bed facing you, his knees bumping against your legs.
“This is my side of the bed,” You mention.
“Oh is it?” Spencer cocks a brow at you and you hum in response.
His hands reach out and gently brush the skin of your thigh, trailing upwards towards your waist as if drawing you towards him. You let him guide you, shifting until you are straddling his lap. Neither of you speak, Spencer’s hand moving around to hold your back, one remaining on your waist. Your breath catches in your throat, eyes focused on his like you’re seeking that comfort.
“Can I kiss you?” Spencer whispers, the words seeming to tumble from his lips.
You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Yes.”
The corners of his mouth upturn just slightly, his eyes flicking between your eyes and your lips. And then, he closes the gap just enough. His lips press against yours, soft and cautious but somehow so certain of themselves. His hand moves to cup your jaw, drawing more of you to him as his fingertips tangle into your hair. When he pulls away, his lips curl into a smile, forehead pressing against yours.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do that,” He whispers, as if not wanting anything else to ruin the moment.
You laugh, leaning into him, “This is still my side.”
Spencer chuckles, holding one arm tightly around his waist to shuffle you both back across the mattress. He shifts to lay you down on one side of the bed before settling down on the side beside you, his arm outstretched to pull you into his chest. You can feel his heart beating against your ear and you’re relieved for a second he is sharing in the same adrenaline that you are.
His fingertips trail up and down your arm, the most delicate touch he could muster.
“I’m sorry I lied to the boys about you,” He speaks the words quietly into the air of the room.
You tilt your head upwards just enough that you can see his face, “We already spoke about this, you don’t have to-“
“Yeah but I didn’t apologise properly and I should do,” He nods, “It shouldn’t be your problem to have to lie to them too.”
“Would it really be so bad if they knew you had a job?”
Spencer shakes his head, tucking his other arm beneath his head on the pillow, “No, it wouldn’t. I just don’t like the thought of them knowing everything that goes on at home. It’s easier to go into school and act like none of that exists.”
You lean up onto your elbows and turn to face him, reaching up a hand to run through the hair falling at the side of his forehead, “Would it not be easier if you could talk to them about it?”
He wraps an arm around your waist, his eyes flitting between each of yours, “I don’t think I’d even know what to say.”
Spencer leans up just enough to kiss you again, gentle and fleeting.
He pulls you back down to his chest and tugs the blanket up over both of you. The pair of you stay there, like that in each other’s arms, until his breath starts to even out and he falls asleep - though, even then, his arms don’t loosen from around you.
———
Spider is back at school on Monday morning. He’d spent all of Sunday with you - waking up at your house, driving you both to work, and then taking you to dinner afterwards. It was the first time he’d ever woken up and instantly wanted to text someone, sending you a quick ‘good morning’ along with his complaints for not wanting to go to school today. He felt like a child with his first crush. Though, when he thought about it, maybe this was the first proper crush he’d had. No other girl had made him feel like this. And he’d savour it for as long as he could.
“Oi dickhead, are you listening?” Dusty interrupts his thoughts, the two of them walking towards the locker room to get changed.
“No,” Spider shrugs, “Do I need to be?”
“You missed a killer end to the party man,” Dusty points out, pushing the door open to where the rest of the boys already were, “I can’t believe you left early.”
“Oh come on I think Spider had other things on his mind,” Ant points out as soon as he overhears the conversation.
“Yeah who the fuck was that chick?”
“Does it matter? Either way Spider was going to fu-“
“Cut it out,” Spider snaps, to nobody in particular, just hoping for anything that would stop the topic of conversation.
“Aww is Spider precious about his latest conquest?” Ant frowns, “You’ll be onto the next one by this weekend.”
“Have you ever just thought of shutting up Ant?” Spider questions, reaching down to tie the laces of his trainers, “I mean, seriously, is it so hard to think (Y/n) might just be a good person? Someone I actually like hanging out with?”
“I don’t think that’s what they’re doubting,” It’s Malakai that speaks this time.
Spider looks at him, uncertain.
“If she’s a decent person, the last guy she should be around is you.”
For a moment, he feels the silence around him. The same tightness in his chest that he got at every dinner with his Mum. The same voice in his head telling him it was impossible for him to be good.
“Well,” He clears his throat, standing up from the bench, “Good thing I don’t need to listen to you cunts.”
When he walks out onto the field, the girls are already crowded around in conversations with each other. Spider walks over, crossing towards the opposite side of the field.
“Oi Spider!”
It’s Amerie that yells after him. He turns around to see her and Harper making their way over.
“You know we told that girl from the party to stay away from you,” Amerie states strongly, offering him her most judgemental look.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You might be able to put on an act for her but she deserves to know how shitty you are.”
“Are you kidding?” Spider scoffs, “You don’t even know her, why’s it your place to say anything?”
“We don’t know her,” Amerie shrugs, “But we know you. And no girl deserves that.”
He glances around at the rest of the people on the field, across to where the boys have just started filtering outside too. Not a single person here thought well of him. Even the boys, his friends, they saw him as the boy that said what they wouldn’t say. He was funny to them before he was good. He was someone to laugh at before he’d ever be someone to talk to. He’d become a show piece at this school. The controversial one that said what nobody else would.
“Ever thought that I might want to be a decent guy? That if I actually liked someone it’s genuine?” Spider shrugs, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Oh fuck off Spider, are you even capable of that?”
“Maybe.”
———
You’d been on Spider’s mind for the whole day. And, as soon as the final bell rang, all he could think of was getting to you.
It’s not a far drive, just the other side of town. But he speeds as if it’s some sort of last ditch attempt to get to you. He hadn’t thought to text, or ask where you were, or ask if you were free. He just knew he needed to get to you. And when he pulls up in front of your house, he realises this is as far as his thoughts had taken him, he wasn’t sure what that meant now.
He knocks on the door, harshly as if he’s channeling his nerves into the sound.
It’s not you on the other side. Instead, an older woman, bearing some resemblance to you in the brightness of her eyes.
“Hi, can I help you?” Her brows furrow but she smiles at him welcomingly, warmly.
“Um-“ He clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck, “I just-“
“Are you (Y/n)’s friend?”
Before he can respond, you come up behind the woman and grasp her shoulders, “I’ve got this one Mum.”
You glance to Spencer and smile, instantly relaxing the tension in his shoulders.
“It was nice to meet you,” Your Mum nods to him, turning to you and giving you some sort of knowing smile as if exchanging silent words.
You step out of the front door and pull it almost-closed behind you;
“What are you doing here Spencer?”
“You didn’t tell me what the girls said to you at the party.”
“I-“ You wrap your arms over your chest as a breeze courses past both of you, “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Didn’t matter?” He half laughs, his shoulders dropping, “They practically told you to get as far away from me as you could.”
“Yeah. And that doesn’t mean I believed them.”
Spencer smiles at you just a little, but it falters quickly.
“Why do they hate you so much Spencer?”
He pauses, taking a deep breath as he looks at you like even the sight of you is enough to calm down all of the worry coursing through him.
“My whole life it’s just been me and my Mum. I didn’t have siblings, my Dad was never in the picture. And so I had this one person left that was meant to love me. You know? That was her job, right? She’s my Mum, she just needs to love me and we’d figure the rest out. My Mum treats me every day like I’m the worst guy on the planet. I’m a guy and she thinks that’s enough for me to be someone she should hate. To her, I’m destructive and thoughtless and I have all this potential do a world of wrong. She reminds me of that every day, with everything I do. She’s reminded me of it so much that I started to believe it. That’s the guy I am to them at school. That’s the guy they know. And I’d hate me too if I was them.”
You feel a lump forming in your throat, wanting to reach out for him and tell him everything he needed to hear. To heal all those years of hurt that sat on those young shoulders.
“I don’t want to be that guy when I’m with you.”
You feel it then. The way your heart skips a beat once more.
“I want to be better.”
Your face breaks into a small smile, an instinctive response.
“I believe you,” You practically whisper the words, “Everyone else might have a lot to say about you but I know the person that you are with me.”
You step forward towards him.
“And I don’t think that guys so bad.”
You watch as he visibly relaxes, grasping out for you as soon as you are within reach, his hands snaking around to your waist. Your hands move up to his chest, linking around the back of his neck.
“You deserve a chance to be better Spider,” You smile, reaching up onto the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his lips.
He hums against the contact, pulling away to say, “I prefer Spencer.”
You chuckle and he wraps his arms tighter around you, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He breathes in the scent of you in his arms, feeling his heart slow in your hold. He’s sure he could stay there forever. And you’re sure that you would let him.
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#368
“Where are you off to?...  The mall?  Well, your friends will need to wait.  We have something to talk about. 
“I have looked after your step-dad, my brother, for his entire life, and I have gotten to know your ma just these past few years.  I trust Doyle with my life.  So when he and your ma ask a favor to have you live with me while they work out their problems, I can’t say no.  I told them that I don’t expect any problems from you.  And they assured me that you are a good boy and that you would follow my rules.  Well, after a long twelve-hour day at the job site, I want to relax with a Scotch Whisky and a nice Macanudo cigar.  Well, imagine my surprise that the bottle of Johnnie Walker, that I opened earlier this week, is well over half gone.  I know how much I drink; that bottle would last me a month and a half at least.  Care to explain?... 
“Well Vinny, don’t ever insult my intelligence again.  That is a battle you will never win.  You drank my Scotch.  Now you have to deal with the consequences. 
“C’mere!...  I said ‘Come here!’  Lay your sorry ass across my lap; you’re getting a good old fashioned ass whooping. 
“…I don’t give a shit that you turned 18 only a few months ago.  You ain’t too old to be put in your place….  Don’t you dare head to the door….
“…I told you not to underestimate me.  Hold still.  I was a state champion wrestler in High School.  I was also a cop before my heart problems.  I know how to take down a bitch like you.  Quit squirming.  Let’s get these sweatpants off you….  Going commando, hunh? 
“…What?  Don’t have something stupid to say?  It’s time for you to pay for your fuck up.  This is a nice ass.  So smooth and pale pink.  Too bad I have to welt it up.
“That’s one.  One of twenty… on each cheek.  Two…  Three…  Now this cheek.  Fuck yeah.  My hand is going to be sore for a while, but I don’t care.  Six.  Seven.  You are starting to go red here.  Boy you got a hot ass!  Ha! Literally it’s very warm. 
“Your crack needs some color….  What the fuck?  You are wet in your crack.  It doesn't stink.  Fuck!  This is lube!  What the fuck?...
“Ha! You were going commando to the mall in sweatpants and your ass is lubed up?  No, you have something lined up to get fucked.  Ha! Ha!
“And I bet…  Don’t try to fight me on this, you have enough lube here for me to easily glide in my finger… like this.  Oooh, there’s your prostate.... I can tell you are cleaned out.
“So, let’s start this conversation over.  Stand up….  I thought that’s what I felt.  Your pecker is hard from you being spanked.  Ha!  I love it.  Look I am totally fine with you being a sperm burper.  Fuck, get laid whenever you want.  So want to tell me where you were really going?
“Have a hook up?  That’s nice.  Is it from one of those apps?...  Let me see his profile….  Give me your phone….  Which app was it?...  Let me see.  This him?...  So you like 43-year-olds?  That’s cool.  I’m a little bit older than that.
“Oh, your chat with him is interesting.  Very interesting….  So you like sucking on ‘Daddy’s toes?’  This is fucking great…. Quit protesting.  I do love it… all of it.  I love that you are rock hard. 
“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.  I am rock hard too.  Yeah, I’ve played with boys before. 
“Here let me take it out for you.  Boy you got me leaking.  Grab a hold of it.  It’s a sizeable piece hunh?...  I see you licking your lips.
“Shut up….  One moment….  There!  I just sent him a message saying that you are going to be twenty to thirty minutes late because your uncle needs some help unloading some things.
“On the bed….  I don’t give a shit.  You got me hard; you are going to take care of it.  I want that red ass of yours.  Atta boy.
“Spread your legs as far as you can.  Just lay there.  I prefer when my holes don’t move around.  And if you can, don’t moan.  Just be the hole you are destined to be.
“Fuck!  It is like silk in here.  I am going to enjoy using this hole daily….  I said don’t say anything.  You live in my house with a hole I can fuck, you better believe I’m going to beat and breed this hole.  You got that?  Beat and breed.  Beat and breed.  I hope your mouth is as good as this pussy hole of yours.  If not, I’ll train ya right.
“Oh man, I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna flood your guts.  Here it cums.  Here it fucking cums.  Get ready boy.  Uhhh!  Fuuuuuck!  Hell yeah!  Fuck!  Goddamn!  Fuck!
“Goddamn!  I love your ass.  Clamp down as I pull out.  Fuck yeah.  I can tell this isn’t your first fuck….  Don’t worry, I won’t tell your ma or my brother.  They don’t need to know. 
“Get up.  Clean me off….  What?  Look at my cock.  It needs to be cleaned up.  Get your mouth on my dick now.  Don’t question me on this….  Atta boy.  You are going to learn that living here requires you to follow my rules.  Rule one, you are getting beat then seeded when I want.  Rule two, you clean me up after yourself.  My cock rules this house and those in it.
“Ok.  Get dressed.  No, you cannot use the bathroom.  You are going to your hook up with a messed up ass, loaded up good.  If he should ask, tell him your uncle unloaded a week’s worth of baby batter in your pussy.
“Now go.  I want to hear details when you get back.  Oh and Vinny, in the future, if you want some Scotch, just ask.  Considering I’m going to beat your ass one way or the other, you kinda earned it.  Now go. 
“And take care of my babies.”
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Text
Misunderstandings - (Cassian x Reader)
Hiiii! A little piece for @writingsbychlo and @azsazz brilliant idea of Starfall Week!
The prompt I used was: Character A has been waiting alone for an hour and Character B is nowhere to be seen.
This was fun to write! I hope you like it, and Happy Starfall Week!
Word count: 1968
Warnings: None.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・
He wasn’t coming. 
Cassian clearly wasn’t coming, and you felt fucking stupid. 
I’ll meet you by the clock tower at eleven, was what he’d said. Eleven had come and gone, the chimes booming above your head. The Starfall celebrations had promptly swept through Velaris, and you — here you were stood, waiting for someone who you should have known would never give you the time of day.
You knew Cassian to be swaggering and cocky and teasing; the Mother knew, you’d seen that side to him more than any other since he’d come into your family’s store and asked why he’d never seen you before. His visits had become more frequent over the last month and a half, and when he’d asked you to meet him on Starfall, your stomach had flipped and sang like the damn skies above you currently were. 
But perhaps it was all a cruel joke. Perhaps Cassian had never been interested in you at all. You hadn’t met his Inner Circle, but you knew how greatly they celebrated the holiday. Of course he wouldn’t want to meet you on Starfall.
Your arms chilled by the air, you felt like nothing but a fool as you descended the stone steps of the clock tower and began your walk back to your home. You’d bought this dress especially for tonight, a pretty cream number that you thought made you look delicate and soft. You certainly didn’t feel delicate and soft as you tore your heels from your feet and carried them as you walked, bare soles slapping the pavement. 
You were almost back at your little cottage when you caught the sound you’d so eagerly awaited earlier — the thunderous boom of wings above you. You didn’t even bother looking up at the sky, knowing that whichever of the Illyrian males it was would be by your side before you had a chance to clock them. Perhaps Cassian had been a true fucking coward and sent Rhysand or Azriel to let you down gently on his behalf. Gods, you hoped not. You weren’t sure you could deal with the humiliation. You turned into your street—
And stumbled to a stop to avoid barrelling into the figure that swooped down, landing in front of you. 
Cassian grinned. Grinned, and shook the wind from his hair. “That was close.”
You stared at him, your lips not even slightly twitching into a smile. Your face was entirely deadpan as you took in the clothes he’d swapped his usual Illyrian leathers for — the fitted burgundy shirt and dark breeches. His hair was left down about his face, and he looked…playful. Damn handsome, but playful.
Too bad you felt anything but playful in that moment. 
Cassian’s eyes swept over you, then, and his grin softened into something different. You’d be forgiven for thinking it was a little coy, flustered. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you.” Your response was clipped. You stepped past him, beginning your walk once more.
“Uh…” Footsteps approached you from behind, and he was darting into your path again. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“We agreed to meet.”
Finally, you stopped. Finally, you allowed your eyes to meet his hazel ones. A look of pure confusion shadowed his face.
“We agreed to meet almost an hour ago, Cassian.” You said. “I got cold and tired of waiting.”
“Hey, I’m sorry I was late.” He stepped towards you, his brow furrowing. “I was just…sorting something out. Time ran away with me.”
“Sorting something out.”
He nodded.
You shrugged. “What were you sorting out?”
“…I can’t tell you—”
You cut him off with a sigh, stepping past him again. You weren’t doing this — couldn’t do this. He could return to his friends and laugh at your expense if he wanted, but you were going home.
“Hey, wait.” He grabbed your hand. “Y/N, will you stop?”
“No, Cassian, you stop. I’m not playing your little games. You can find some other female to do that. I know it doesn’t make any fucking sense for you to like me, but I genuinely like you, so kindly leave my feelings alone.”
Your impassioned speech had utterly silenced him. He blinked at you, realisation seeming to wipe the confusion from his face. He studied you once more, frowning.
“Is that what you think?” He asked. “That I’m pretending to like you as some sort of joke?”
You shrugged, lifting your chin. Refusing to flush with humiliation. “You may have only noticed my existence in the last month or so, Cassian, but I’ve seen you around Velaris for years. You have a type — I am the furthest thing from that type. And I am perfectly comfortable with my soft stomach and thick thighs and all the other things I’m expected not to like about myself. That doesn’t mean I’m going to allow those things to be the butt of the joke for the High Lord’s general.”
You pushed past him again, but he was having none of it. He yanked you back to him, both gentle and firm. “You are way out of line, Y/N. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with males like you, Cassian—”
“Males like me?” He stared down at you. “Bastard-born brutes? A nobody with the title of Warlord slapped above his head? Don’t make assumptions about me, sweetheart, because you couldn’t be more wrong.”
You held his gaze, searching the sincerity in his eyes. Perhaps you were being unfair — perhaps you had jumped the gun a bit. You just…you’d been taken for a fool too many times. And you liked Cassian so much that you didn’t think you could take it from him.
You lowered your gaze, glancing down at your feet, but his warm, callused hand was gently gripping your face and forcing your eyes back to his.
“Don’t group me in with those assholes that have treated you that way. Please. I’m not them.” His voice was far softer, gentle. “I like everything about you. Especially your soft stomach and thick thighs. I like you so fucking much, and that is why I asked you to meet me tonight. Because Starfall is special to me, and I think—I think you might be, too.”
Guilt sliced at you as you stared up at him. You definitely should have listened to him before making assumptions. You relaxed your body, showed him that you were open.
“I’m sorry I was late.” He said again. “I said I couldn’t tell you why because I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. I wanted to show you. If you’ll let me.”
You sighed softly. “Of course I’ll let you. I’m sorry, Cass—”
“Don’t worry about that. Just…do you trust me?”
Yes, you realised, you did. You nodded. 
He smiled, lacing your fingers together. “Just a quick flight, and you’ll see why I was late.”
He was already lifting you up into his arms. You blinked, glancing up at the sky. “Is this safe? With all those stars zipping about?”
Cass smirked down at you. “It is — so long as you don’t fly too high. It’s a damn beautiful sight, too.”
Before you had a chance to consider, he was holding you tight to him and launching into the air, your scream swallowed by the wind. Your nails dug into him as you buried into his chest, vaguely aware of the whooshing above you — the sound of passing stars.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”
“Yes, well, some of us are used to being on the ground.” You cracked an eye open, daring a look. “And stop smirking.”
“You’re not even looking at me.”
“I can tell.”
A great, booming laugh left him as he swooped and glided with expert ease. You couldn’t bring yourself to drink in more than a few glimpses at the iridescent trails of light that exploded around you. You clung tight to Cassian’s firm body, burying into his shoulder.
“I’m going to land now.” He warned you. “Just a heads-up.”
You felt your stomach flip as he banked hard, the sensation of falling making you want to scream right into his ear. But it was over within seconds, Cassian executing a flawless landing that you barely felt as his feet planted on the ground.
You didn’t let go. Didn’t look up.
“…we’re back on solid ground, Y/N.” He squeezed you. “You can let go. Not that I’m complaining.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
A soft laugh was breathed against your hair, and you felt him peeling your hands from his body and setting you down on the ground. You swayed, feeling your legs wobble. Cassian was clearly trying not to laugh as he steadied you.
You scowled. “Sorry that we’re not all overgrown bats accustomed to flying.”
“I’m sorry.” He grinned. “You just look so wide-eyed and bewildered. Like a little squirrel, or something.”
“Just show me where you’ve taken me, bat-boy.”
Within seconds, it was as though all the swaggering cockiness had leached from his body. He seemed to steel himself with a calming breath, and then he was stepping aside, exposing you to the view before you.
“This is why I was late.” He said quietly, grabbing your hand.
You sucked in a gasp. Words completely failed you as you drank in the sight of the private hilltop viewpoint he’d created for the two of you. Faelights flickered and glowed around piles of blankets and cushions, and there was food — far more food than was necessary for two people. Plates and plates of fruits and cheeses and meats and desserts. And bottles of juices and wines, with two chalices set beside them.
Your lips parted, you angled yourself towards Cassian. “I…you did all this?”
He swallowed nervously, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Do you like it?”
“Cass, I—this is amazing.”
You went to take a step forward, but he stopped you, gently tugging you back by your hand. He turned you to face him, and your eyes met, him staring down at you and you up at him. His thumb brushed the back of your palm in gentle sweeps as he swallowed again.
“I…really like you, Y/N.” He said quietly, a soft pink hue touching his cheeks. “Since the day I walked into your family’s store, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. That was why I wanted to do this — to show you that you’re special to me.”
Your mouth went dry. And all you’d done was jump to conclusions and accused him of being an asshole. With a frown, you stepped closer, snaking your arms around his waist. He immediately folded you into him, pressing his chin atop of your head.
“I’m sorry, Cass.” You murmured, tilting your head back to look up at him. “Really — I am. Thank you. This is…nobody has ever done anything like this for me before.”
“Well.” He smiled softly. “I’m honoured to be the first. Maybe I’ll be the only one.”
You truly hoped so. Nothing but pure, unadulterated love shot through you as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes and kissed him. You loved him. You fucking loved Cassian.
He kissed you back for a moment, cupping your cheek. And then he gently peeled his lips from yours, smiling. “Want to eat while watching the stars?”
You nodded vigorously, taking his hand in yours. “Anything with you.”
As he led you over to the blankets and cushions, you heard the distant boom of the Velaris clock tower chiming twelve, and the burst of stars colliding above you. 
Cassian sat, pulling you onto his lap, and stardust rained down on you as you ate and talked and laughed. 
The most memorable Starfall you’d ever had. One of many to come, you hoped. 
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・
cassian tag list: @brekkershadowsinger @wandas-dream @nightscourtt @luna-1-3-5 @ruler-of-hades @chocolatecakelargeshake @asemkta @lucyysthings @a-frog-with-a-laptop @iammichellekocwin @illyriansimp @azrielsbabyg @brookeduggann @toohardtoforgetcth @gmey11 @historianscalledusfriends @basicbittywitty @koemi-kimo @sadiebluewin @angelatinasstuff @eos-princess @theunforgivingsworld @lysjeonsworld @aaronwarnerswifereal @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @str4vvberry
general tag list: @angrymilfs @lunaralaraspace @maddithefangirl @wandas-dream @his-sweet-nightmare @kennedy-brooke @chocolatecakelargeshake @daily-dose-of-sass @missaddamsworld @reiincarnatiion @linduzmunna @leeknows-wife @nightcourtwritings @ann-writes-universes @cosmic-whispers @simplefan-638 @lucyysthings @judig92 @shannonsaid @azriels-mate123 @iangelofmusic @baybay123455 @poisonousgirlie @kuraikei @sweetandsourwrites @clarkie-carmody-blog @myheartsalwayswithyou @lavenderdreams22
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wongyuuu · 10 months
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Enchanted | csc
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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 1.2k summary: in which you meet seungcheol for the first time
requests are open
a/n: a small thing in celebrations of cheol's birthday 🍒
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You nodded quietly to the man in front of you. His name had completely left your mind and you lost track of whatever it was that he was talking about. Your cheeks were already numb from smiling for too long.
There was nothing you hated more than attending those parties on your brother's behalf but Jeonghan did so much for you that going somewhere you didn't really like and having to play nice with people you didn't care for was something that you were willing to do. 
That party, especially, was a little worse because there wasn't anyone you knew so there wasn’t anyone to help you hide, anyone who could keep you away from the boring conversations. But all you had to do was endure it for another hour, just sixty more minutes until you were finally free to go home.
You and Jeonghan had an understanding that when he wasn’t able to attend one of these events — either because he was busy or because he just didn’t want to, more often the latter —, you had to be there for at least three hours. Someone needs to be there to represent the family, he said when you complained. And since he did all the boring work, the parties and the networking were left to you. 
At first, you enjoyed it to some extent. It was a perfect opportunity to put on some makeup and wear a pretty dress. But soon you learned that once one attends a couple of events, they’d seen all of it. 
“Sorry, I’m late,” a man said on your right. 
You were completely caught off guard when the stranger put his hand on your lower back and leaned in, his warm breath against your ear.
“Jeonghan send me” he whispered softly before placing a quick kiss on your cheek, his lips on your skin for barely a second
At his words, your stiff body relaxed. It wasn’t the first time an unknown man had approached you at one of those events, but he was the first one to do so at your brother’s request.
You turned your head to look at the stranger and your breath got stuck on your throat. The man was mesmerizing. His face wasn’t familiar at all to you, you’d know if he was. There was no way you’d forget a face like his. 
He had big eyes, bright but also with a hint of mystery in them, a bit mischievous too because he knew that his arrival had thrown off the man in front of you.
“Seungcheol,” the man who had been talking your ears off said, dragging your attention back to him “I haven’t seen you in years”
Seungcheol.
You played the name on your mind over and over again, trying to place him in any of your memories. If Jeonghan had sent him to save you from boredom then he and Seungcheol were close. Friends even. You had attended those parties for years and it was the first time he had sent anyone for you. 
“Ji Hu,” Seungcheol said “I got back a few months ago”
God, his voice. It was like silk. It was different from when he whispered, more filling in a way. 
The two of them briefly shook hands before Seungcheol whisked you away. He walked you to your designated table and pulled the chair out for you. You sighed in relief once you sat down, thankful that the pressure on your feet eased down a little bit. The shoes you wore were beautiful but way too uncomfortable. 
"How do you know my brother?" 
Seungcheol suddenly raised his hand, and a second later a waiter was by your side, placing a glass of water in front of you.
"Jeonghan said to not let you drink," he said when you made a face at the water "And to answer your question, we went to college together"
No matter how much you thought about it, you had no memory of Seungcheol. Of course, you didn't know all of Jeonghan's friends from college but if Seungcheol was there it meant that your brother trusted him enough — which was something to be considered because Jeonghan hardly trusted anyone. 
"I don't remember you" 
"We weren't really friends at the time, we just attended college at the same time and had a few classes together. I went abroad to get my master's. Jeonghan and I only reconnected," he tilted his head to the side, unsure if that was the correct word to describe their relationship "last year"
You nodded quietly. That did make a lot of sense. Seungcheol had never been to any of those events, no dinner in Jeonghan’s house, no golf either. There was no way you'd forget someone like him.
"How did you guys get in touch again?"
Seungcheol smiled at you, a glimpse of a gummy smile showing before he quickly sobered up. You could swear that your heart skipped a beat.
"Aren't you a curious little thing" you smiled then too "Who do we still need to talk with tonight? I know Ji Hu isn't one of them. If I remember correctly, five minutes by his side is worth weeks of a conversation with a normal person"
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You ended up staying at the party longer than sixty more minutes. Somewhere along the way networking for Jeonghan took a back seat and you just stayed there talking with Seungcheol. 
He talked about living abroad on his own for his master’s, how he considered staying to get a PhD but how ultimately he just wanted to come home. I missed my family too much and though I had friends there I still felt alone. How Jeonghan's job offer came at the right time so not getting a PhD didn't feel all that important when he weighed the pros and cons.
Seungcheol found out that you attended those parties as a way to repay Jeonghan for taking care of you when you were a teenager, for allowing you to hide behind him so he took almost all the cursing from your rebellious teenage years.
"You make it seem as if you were setting buildings on fire" he laughed "If it makes you feel any better, Jeonghan never complained about any of that. He only had nice things to say about you. Granted, we weren't the closest people you'd find but still"
That was the first time you had fun, real fun, at any of those events. You didn't need to hide behind fake smiles and pretty, and carefully, chosen words. Seungcheol made you feel comfortable, made you laugh, and seemed to genuinely laugh with you, rather than at you. 
You didn't want the night to be over. If anything, you wished for it to last a little longer. You wanted to talk with him, wanted to get to know him more. 
"I had fun tonight," you said outside.
Seungcheol waited by your side for the car, his hand still placed on your lower back as it had been almost the entire night. You wished it would take a few more minutes for it to arrive. 
"I did too" he sounded sincere, a second later the car arrived "I'll see you soon, y/n"
You couldn't contain the smile that spread through your face when Seungcheol closed the car door and the driver pulled the car away from the curb.
Maybe, you thought, attending those events again would be so bad after all. 
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