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#a few days later he has this life's memories back
vividxpages · 2 days
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༉‧˚📖❀༉‧₊˚."the craving"༉‧˚🤍❀༉‧₊˚.PART 2
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Read Part 1 here 🤍
pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 7200
summary: After your night at the inn, the tensions between you and your betrothed Jacaerys are running high. Finding yourself curious about the kind of lascivious literature your prince has been reading, you decide to go on the search yourself - with pleasant consequences for the both of you…
warnings: pining, the return of the infamous Targaryen kamasutra diary, oral sex (female receiving), making out, handjob, aftercare, cuddling
a/n: there is going to be a third and final part after this one <3 let me know what you think, I always love to chat and thank you for the love Part 1 got!
𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃
You had always loved the library of Dragonstone.
The endless shelves bursting at the seams with history provided a peace and quiet you sometimes found lacking in your life, especially recently with the dark shadow of war looming over your family.
As you wandered through the many narrow passages between the books, you felt your mind calm down. With only the distant sound of the wind outside and a few busy scribes working around you, you dedicated yourself to your mission of the day.
You were not going to leave the library empty handed, not before you’d found what you desired; the mysterious diary Jacaerys had spoken of, in the night back at the inn…
The truth was simple, yet tangled and slowly driving you to the brink of your sanity; every night since your return to Dragonstone, you found yourself unable to sleep, at the brim of madness. Memories of Jacaerys and you, pressed against each other in the small bed as he slowly took you apart with his fingers and lips, haunted you.
You wondered if it only had been a desired dream, since your betrothed had gone back to being sickeningly sweet and attentive to you after your return. Jacaerys had taken most of his mother’s blow and the angered worry for the both of you, defending his choice to keep you safe through the night in front of the Queen’s entire council.
Standing beside him, your cheeks had been undeniably red as he had recounted the night of the storm, purposefully leaving out the part where he had fingered you to a mind-blowing orgasm, of course.
After the questioning, you two had fallen back into the same old dance and its rhythm as if your feelings for one another still had to be suppressed. But perhaps being sweet and chivalrous was Jace’s own method to keep himself under control before your long-desired union.
After all, you certainly did not have such methods for yourself.
The late hours in your chambers had been spent staring at the ceiling and listening to the waves crashing against Dragonstone. Tossing and turning, you had only been able to imagine the ghost of his touches on your skin, over and over, until you had to either firmly press your legs together or rarely indulge in your own wild imagination and the world of pleasure Jacaerys had opened up for you…
Since his quarters were close to yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if the same frustration sought him out at night and if he dreamed about your lips on his, your wetness on his veiny hand as he touched your most intimate part…
You took a deep breath and focused once again, traveling along the shelf where diaries and old reports were stored. A pleasant burn rested in your stomach, knowing Jace might’ve stood in the exact same place as you or would even return here to find that his precious book had been taken…
You grinned as your fingers drifted over a particular bound spine, a victorious flutter going through your chest as you noticed the lack of dust on it, although someone had seemed to hide it in the second row.
This was going to be a very interesting evening.
A little later, you were back in your quarters, curled up in the cozy velvet armchair by the high windows and completely absorbed in the book resting on your lap.
The diary you had hidden underneath your cloak on your journey back was open, a well-kept secret of your family now in your hands. In the privacy of your own four walls, you silently thanked your prince for his erudition as your eyes darted across the old rough pages.
You quickly discovered that the diary had been written by a nameless female ancestor of yours, her old ink writing elegant but faded. Her entries stretched themselves over nearly two decades, starting with her very first intimate encounter with a man and continuing to describe the adventures of her youth until she eventually found her forever love.
At the bottom of the very first page, she had scribbled: to all the princesses after me and their princes who should do good to take proper care of them. The little dedication made you smile.
Soon, you had begun to devour each entry without even noticing, the thrill of knowing Jace’s fingers had turned the same pages only spurring you on in your eagerness. And this diary was certainly…something.
It was lustful and forbidden and very, very detailed. You nearly choked on your own breath once as your dear ancestor had not spared any sexual details in her vivid descriptions, the stories sometimes accompanied by tasteful sketches of what her tumbling had looked like. You had never seen anything like it and soon, you found yourself squeezing your thighs together with your heart pounding in excitement.
Your thoughts wandered away from the current story and imagined how Jace must’ve felt reading those filthy passages. In front of your inner eye, you saw him sprawled out in his bed, dark curls resting on the pillows and his face brightened by the candles on his bedside table.
Had he been as aroused as you were feeling now?
In the inn, he had told you all he could’ve imagined while reading was you and your cheeks burned with realization, possessing the full knowledge of what he had meant back then. Did he find relief for himself when it had become too much, clinging to the book with one hand as the other slowly played with himself underneath the blankets? Did he whisper your name, squeezing his beautiful eyes shut as he-
A knock at your door sharply cut through the silence and you startled, nearly dropping your precious reading matter. Quickly, you cursed and put it back on the small table beside you, brushing out your skirts and taking a deep breath.
“Yes?”
Your heart skipped a beat as the door opened and Jacaerys peeked into your room, a small worried frown on his youthful face. “Good evening. Are you alright?”
You nodded, gesturing for him to come inside. Your betrothed closed the door behind himself and walked up to you as your eyes began to travel on their own, over the red and black of his attires, his dark curls lush and glossy in the candlelight of your room.
“I was worried about you.” Jace confessed to you, raising your hand to his plump lips and kissing the knuckles in greeting. This was a new habit of his and you were not complaining, although the small gesture always made you weak in the knees. “We missed you at dinner. I brought you something to eat, in case you weren’t feeling well.”
Only now you realized how dark the sky behind your windows had gotten already. Gods, how much time had you already spent with this book?
Your chest warmed at the sight of a well-filled plate in his hand, presenting everything he knew you liked from the kitchens. With a grateful smile, you admitted: “Thank you. I’m alright, I simply must’ve forgotten the time. I was…occupied.”
Jace raised an amused eyebrow at your odd explanation, placing the plate on the table, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Shall I leave you to it then?”
“No.” You answered quickly, your heart already longing for him although he was right in front of you. “I’d love some company. We’ve both been busy lately.”
Lately. Ever since the night of the storm, but you had not talked about the events at the inn since then.
Jacaerys let out a small – relieved? – sigh at your answer and the two of you sat down in the armchairs, your stomach growling at the variety of food your betrothed had organized for you. After a moment, you lifted your gaze to his and added quietly: “I missed you.” And it was true in more than one way.
“I missed you, too.” He replied in a heartbeat and watched you peacefully as you began to eat. The unexpected dinner was a wonderful treat after a long day like this, but it was not enough to distract you from the fact that you had not really been alone like this ever since that night. “I have not been neglecting you on purpose, I promise. You are way too dear to me for that.”
You looked at him with big eyes, quietly munching on a small sweetmeat as you shook your head. “I was not thinking such a thing, Jace. I know how busy your day is, now more than ever. Has your mother fully forgiven you by now?”
As you had foreseen, Rhaenyra had been out of her mind with worry when you had not returned as appointed and had given her son a very stern talk right in the dragon’s cave where you had eventually arrived at with your dragons. (The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if your dragons would’ve been able to take the late flight back to Dragonstone that night. If their sudden change of behavior – your own creature more affectionate towards Jace and Vermax oddly cuddly with you - could be any indicator, you almost suspected your beasts had somehow made a pact with each other to bring you closer…)
Jace sighed and rested his head against the back of his armchair. “I try to make it up to her every day, believe me. But if thrown into a situation like this again, I would not choose any different. I’d always choose you. Us, together and safe.”
“I’d choose the same.” You whispered breathily, your heart singing way too fast for an innocent confession between betrotheds like this. Underneath your conversation, something desiring and dark slumbered, only waiting for the right moment to jump out and remind you of your spent time between the sheets together. You swallowed, quietly adding: “You protected me that night, from the storm and my own reckless decision I would’ve made and I am grateful for it. I have told the Queen so myself.”
“I know.” He gave you a soft smile, the one that was only reserved for you, his princess. “I think deep down she has forgiven me already. She just likes to see me working even harder these days.”
You chuckled, taking a bite of a ripe strawberry with relish. When you looked up again, Jace’s eyes already were on your lips, how they curled around the sweet fruit and your tongue darted out to lick the juice from your fingertips, his dark pupils blown wide, body tense.
Suddenly, the dress on you felt way too tight for your body, your senses widening under his intense stare. But just like that, the moment was over and Jacaerys cleared his throat, causing you to go back to your dinner.
You wanted to curse yourself for your own timidness. You had shared far more than a space like this before your betrothed knew how you tasted and felt on his fingers and even before your wedding night had happened. So why were you so flustered out of the sudden?
In an unobservant moment, Jace casually reached for the book on your table and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. You were helpless to watch as his eyes widened shortly with recognition, looking intently at the subtle cover.
“This is…” You had no idea how you wanted to end this sentence.
Jacaerys opened the diary right where you had placed a soft ribbon between the pages, his eyes skimming over the page before he looked up at you with a sly grin. “Ah. One of my favorite chapters.”
Oh gods.
Both embarrassment and excitement pulsed through you as heat crept up your neck at his knowing smile.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He asked adoringly, his fingertips softly tracing the ribbon. “Was my description not vivid enough so you simply had to find out for yourself, to see if I lied?”
You proudly lifted your chin, trying to feign confidence and ignore the shaking of your hands at his look fueled with unfiltered desire.
“Of course you have not lied to me. You were way too…” You bit your lip, your mind traveling back to the way he skillfully crooked his fingers against your sweet spot, dirty words leaving his heavenly mouth as he praised you… You cleared your throat, brushing your hands out over your skirts. “I knew you weren’t lying, but I had to see for myself. For…educational purposes.”
Jace nodded slowly and hummed thoughtfully. “I knew you were curious…” He leaned forward and offered you the book back. A notch confused, you took the diary from his hands, the old clothbound almost familiar already in your grasp. “And believe me, I am not here to interrupt your education tonight, princess.”
A low fire sizzled through you at the mischievous smile he gave you. It was a smile you couldn’t resist and you prayed you knew what this meant for you tonight. After all, you were going to be Jacaerys’ wife, sooner rather than later, and he was going to be your husband. You blinked at him innocently before you reclined against the pillow in your back, your fingers brushing over the golden edges of the diary.
“How considerate of you, my prince.” You said sweetly and a quiet exhale left Jace’s lips, clearly affected by your playful undertone. “Maybe we can learn together. That is, if my betrothed doesn’t have any other plans for the night?”
A dazzling grin made its way on Jacaerys’ face and with an elegance only the prince could possess, he leaned back against his armchair as well. He gestured invitingly to the diary in your hands and nodded at you encouragingly. “By all means, go on.”
Gods, in what situation were the two of you stirring yourselves into once again?
You forced yourself to remain composed in front of him, opening the book once more and beginning to read. But you only managed to drift over a few words before Jacaerys’ voice cut through the comfortable silence of the room and your head snapped up.
"Out loud." He said, simple yet demanding, his eyes burning embers sending a shiver down your spine.
"W-what?" Your voice sounded thin, perhaps a little intimidated but also...intrigued by your betrothed's command. The look in his eyes was the same he executed in the council room, sharp and attentive and willing to fight for what was his.
"I want to hear your voice." He explained, softer now. "Please read to me, princess."
You stared at him and the heat from before in your rosy cheeks started to spread like dragon fire, claiming your entire being. The dress on you felt way too tight and although you were not wearing your clammy riding leathers anymore, the same tension had now taken possession over you. And it was all because of the prince seated across from you.
Jace rested his chin in the palm of his hand, licking his plump lips as he kept your eyes captive with his own. After a moment, he nodded, a small encouragement you needed to return to the page in front of you.
With your finger ghosting over the soft ribbon, you began to read:
“When I met him that night, it was like our previous encounters from before had vanished, leaving me alone with my carnal desire…” You read to him, feeling him shift in his seat just outside of your vision. “The prince has been kind to me before, but as the hours went by and our wine glasses emptied, there was something else in his eyes, something I felt wanted to devour me and make me his. Taking him into my bed was inevitable and we both knew it.”
It was scandalous and wrong, to speak such lewd thoughts out loud with your betrothed right before your very eyes, but something made you continue, your voice growing stronger as you carried on.
“I was not aware of my own body like this until he made me, taking my hand in his own and showing me what I was capable of…” You swallowed thickly, the words hitting way too close to home. “Like he was painting flowers on my skin, my body bloomed under his touch and awakened me as if I had only slept my life away before…”
You thought of the rain splattering against the window, how Jacaerys had undressed you and how right it had felt to let yourself be kissed by him, your bodies melting together underneath the blanket until you had forgotten where you began and he ended. There had been safety back then and you knew there was safety in this moment as well, your Jace a steady and relying presence by your side.
“He surprised me, in more than one way, but what surprised me the most was when he went on his knees for me…” You lifted your head at the sound of fabric rustling and breathed out shakingly as you watched Jace stand up from his chair and kneel down in front of yours, looking up at you with his lips slightly open.
“What are you doing?” You whispered breathlessly.
“You’ve read this chapter before?” He asked back, gulping.
You nodded slowly, not able to look away from his pretty eyes. “Twice. It is written quite…poetically.”
Jace chuckled, easing your nerves as he softly stroked your naked ankle. Scandalous, indeed. “So you know how the story goes, my love?”
Gods, he was going to be the death of you.
“Yes…” You whispered, not trusting your voice anymore.
“If you’d allow me, I’d like to give you the same pleasure.” Jace proposed slowly, his voice a little hoarse. “I-…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since we shared a bed. I try to be…a good betrothed, but every night I close my eyes, I still hear your sweet voice, I feel your body against mine and it’s driving me mad with want.”
You were shaking as you leaned forward and cupped his cheek with one hand, successfully making him halt in his confessional ramble. Softly, you stroked along his smooth cheek with your thumb as he melted into the loving gesture. “Jacaerys…Why do you think I wanted to find the diary like you did? If you declare yourself mad, then we are both out of our minds. I have been thinking about you too as I was reading. You are all I can think about and I desire to be with you again.”
He looked at you like you were the sun, the whole world to him. “So you’d let me…?”
You nodded fiercely, your finger drifting over his cheekbone and his bottom lip. You exhaled softly as he pressed a quick kiss to the pad of your fingertip. “I trust you. I know you’ll take good care of me.”
“I will, always.” Jace vowed and took your hand in his once again, this time lifting your bare wrist to his mouth and softly kissing it, making you sigh longingly. Then, he gently led it back to the book in your lap and smiled at you. “Read to me, princess.”
You cleared your throat, trying to push all nerves away from you as you continued with the story.
“I was overly aware of his presence between my thighs, soothing yet commanding as he slowly unwrapped me, a prize he had dutifully won with his chivalrous affections…” You read and tried not to squirm as Jace slowly began to lift your light skirts, exposing your naked legs to the warm air of your chamber. You felt his hot breath fan over your sensitive skin, goosebumps rising in his wake. When his knuckles brushed along your calf, you bit your lip, suppressing a small groan.
“What happens next?” Jace wanted to know, his voice warm and deep and lulling you into a certain headspace. Briefly, your eyes met as he exposed your knees and with a sigh, your legs opened, making space for whatever he planned for you. And oh, how you knew what he planned and how much it affected you already, knowing exactly what was going to happen…
“He took his time and ignored my pleas, relishing every little buck of my hips as he neared the sacred place where I desired him the m-most-“ You faltered as you felt his lips on your knee, one single featherlight kiss before he moved on to the other leg, repeating his actions.
His hands brushed appreciatively over your skirts and higher and higher they went until you heard him exhale in awe. “You’re as beautiful as I remember…May I?”
“Yes.” You lifted your hips, assisting him in his efforts to get your skirt out of the way, but just as you lost yourself in the sight of him on your knees for you, he admonished you with a single look and nodded to the diary between you. You laughed quietly, your head spinning from the sensation of his hand stroking up and down your leg. “I believe I might’ve gotten betrothed to a devil instead of a prince.”
“A devil wouldn’t do what I want to do to you, princess.” He murmured, his warm palms now resting on your thighs, oh so gently drawing little patterns into your skin.
You soldiered on bravely, although it was getting harder to think when he spoke to you like this. “I was no stranger to the secret pleasures happening behind closed doors, but with him, I felt like I have never truly known them. He looked at me like I was his personal meal at a feast and he was a man that has been starving, desperate for- oh!”
You stumbled over your words, a hiss escaping your lips as his knuckles suddenly brushed along the damp fabric of your underwear. The sensation of his touch on the wet spot over your folds sent a sharp shiver down your spine and the glassy look in Jace’s eyes, fixated on your clothed center in front of him, did not help to ease the tension in you.
“For?” Jacaerys repeated dazed, licking his lips before he softly mouthed at your naked thighs, the muscles quivering underneath his sweet assault.
“For her.” You exhaled, but he only cocked his eyebrow at you.
“Come on, princess, you know the word she uses.” He tempted you teasingly, lazily reaching out and tracing a circle over your soaked-
“Her cunt-“ You breathed out, sweat gathering on your brow as your mind rushed down your body, making it harder and harder to concentrate on the diary in your hand. Your eyes fluttered closed as he peppered kisses along your inner thighs and his curls tickled your smooth skin.
Distantly, you felt his fingers unlace the little ribbons on the side of your underwear, gently exposing your heavenly center to him for the very first time. You heard him groan under his breath, his imagination during your first encounter underneath the blanket exceeded by the sweet reality of your weeping cunt for him.
“Princess…” He hummed absently, shuffling closer to you, his eyes flickering back and forth between your wet rosy folds and your half-lidded eyes. “I want to know how the story continues, don’t you?”
A tiny whimper left your lips as you tried to make sense of the words in front of you with Jacaerys so close to where you needed him so desperately now. “My cunt was a flower blooming under his attention and with each touch of his, another leaf seemed to blossom, making me f-forget myself and…gods, Jace, please-“
Finally giving in to your pleas, Jace pressed a kiss to your aching clit and set you aflame with it.
A surprised gasp left your lips as your hips twitched on their own and you dug your fingers into the armrest by your side. Your taste only barely grazed his lips, yet Jace groaned and rested his forehead against your thigh for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose himself while he stroked the soft flesh under your belly.
Jace slowly lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders – the way he had often dreamed about – and nudged you to continue, his burning gaze not separating from your pink pussy.
 “His tongue licked fire into me, unforgiving and merciless at my open whimpers and when I thought the pleasure I felt could not ascend more, he proved me wrong-“ You bit down hard on your lip as he dove in again, kissing your folds and clit like he had kissed your blue lips at the inn, experimental and delicately and forbiddenly good. “-and pushed me further, beyond the veil and further.”
“Gods, you taste divine…” Jace murmured against you, his tongue darting out to lick one fat stripe up your cunt, making you release a long drawn-out moan you could not keep in anymore if you tried. “Let me hear you, princess, I want to hear every little sound from your sweet lips.”
“T-the pressure in me kept tightening itself as he played me like a delicate violin, his spit mingling- gods, fuck-“ You squeezed your legs shut as Jace licked and sucked at you, the noises where his mouth worked outright dirty and driving you insane. “-mingling with my own juices, his eyes never leaving mine as he lapped at me…”
You had no idea if you were even speaking a coherent language anymore. You were floating, levitating above yourself and the boy between your thighs, devouring you as if you were the best thing Jace had ever been granted to taste.
Jacaerys once again did not let it show that he was just as new to any of this as you were, expertly eating you out like he had never done anything else. He kissed your cunt with eager passion, varying between slow licks of his tongue and fiery kisses and sucking against your clit until you could not keep up with him anymore, your body melting into the armchair behind you.
As you stumbled once again over a sentence, you mewled and instinctively held on to the first thing in reach. It was the best unconscious decision your body could’ve ever made for you.
Jacaerys let out a guttural groan, the vibrations of his sound sending a jolt through you as he moaned right into your cunt, your fingers tightening their newly found hold on his soft curls. His fingers dug into your plush thighs and you lost yourself just a little more when he looked up to you.
His swollen lips were glistening with your wetness and Jace looked drunk on you, his eyes hazily glazed over as he held your stare, leaning into your hand holding on to his hair.
Your head fell back, your mouth opening to a silent blissed-out o-shape at the intensity of his mouth on you and before you knew it, you found yourself begging for your betrothed, his long fingers carefully spreading your folds apart for him.
“Jacaerys… please-“ You whimpered, brows scrunched together and breath hitching as he soothed his fingers over your sensitive flesh once more. The book became useless in your hands as the words blurred together in front of your vision. “I can’t go on anymore, please.”
He barely separated himself from you as he sighed into your cunt, deeply breathing you in and intending to never unlearn this feeling. “I know you can do it, princess. Come on, I want to know how the story ends, don’t you?”
You couldn't care less about how the godsdamned story would end anymore, but you saw the way Jace was looking at you, the dragon of your house lingering just beneath the surface. He was serious and you would not leave this seat before he had you right where he wanted; on the same high edge he had led you to in that tiny little bed…
And oh, how fast you were racing towards it.
“There was no escape from the heaven he brought on me and as- oh…as I felt my end nearing, I knew I was ruined for an…any m-man after him who’d dare to compete- ah, Jace, a-against him-“ You whimpered, your thighs shaking on top of his shoulders as he went on and on on you, his perfect mouth nearly making you go cross-eyed for a moment.
Suddenly, your vision whitened out, the diary slipping from your limb grasp and falling to the ground as Jace’s tongue breached your walls. Your back arched and you let out an incoherent string of curses, humming and gasping pathetically as his nose rubbed against your clit and Jace’s long lashes fluttered closed. You could not help but stare at him in wonder, your beautiful betrothed worshiping at the altar of your hips, dragging his skilled tongue through the mess he had made of you.
He was exquisite.
And finally, you seemed to have fulfilled your reading duty and he was satisfied with the outcome.
Jace groaned deeply and placed his hands on either side of your waist, drawing you closer to the edge of the chair and towards his mouth, his hot breath fanning over you and sending shivers down your spine.
“Are you close, princess?” He mumbled lowly, not bothering to separate himself from you, his lips sending little jolts through your nerves.
“S-so close…” You nodded quickly, head thrown back and fingers still carding through his hair, his hands and mouth on you the only things that still kept you on this world. “’s so good, Jacaerys, I’m going to…”
His hands found yours and as he laced your fingers together, he kissed your swollen wet clit again, gently suckling on it and moving his head just a little bit, his teeth lasciviously grazing over you-
You let go of yourself, combusting into a million little stars through his guiding touches. Your peak was washing over you in powerful waves, your hips still grinding against Jace’s eager mouth, chasing the taste of your release on his tongue as if it was the saving water in a hopeless desert.
“Perfect…” Jace murmured as he looked up to you in awe, his cheek admiringly resting on your thigh and you let out a breathless chuckle, chest heaving and heart thundering as he licked his lips clean of your release. “You are divine, my love.”
You were puddy in his safe hands, sighing happily as he kissed your leg and swiftly scooped you up into his awaiting arms. You gladly clung to him and as he carried you towards your enticing bed, your disheveled skirts were dragged behind you over the floor as your legs wrapped around his waist, one of his hands soothingly brushing over your hair as the other supported your bum.
He could’ve walked to the edge of the earth with you like this, you were content, nuzzling his neck like an affectionate kitten and breathing him in. What a grand blessing your sweet betrothed was…
While you still tried to calm yourself down from your peak, Jacaerys gently placed you on your soft beddings and sat down beside you. He kissed your chin, your temple and then both of your fluttering eyelids, his hands securely stroking your sides as he leaned over you.
“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly, seeking your gaze.
You smiled at him, reaching up to tuck one of his curls behind his ear. “Magnificent.”
Jacaerys blushed and kissed your cheek to hide it. “It wasn’t too much?”
“No.” You slid your hand to his nape, an idea blossoming in your mind. “It was new and…intense, but I loved it. You were good to me, Jace. Although…there is one thing I am still longing for, my prince.”
He furrowed his brows. “And what would that be, beloved?”
You drew him closer until he hovered over you, his own breath quickening as yours fanned over his lips. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbone and you leaned in to whisper: “I’ve not kissed you since that night.”
His pupils dilated. “We should change that.”
You grinned into the kiss as you both closed the distance and a deep part of you relaxed, as if you had been holding your breath ever since you took off to Dragonstone that morning. Jacaerys carefully held your face in the palms of his hands, but you felt that he was desperately needing this just as much as you did.
You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, although you were well and thoroughly sated for the night, only hungering for Jace’s pleasure now. You pulled him on top of you and sank into the pillows behind you, relishing the feeling of his lips moving against yours once more.
It was like the two of you were learning together, becoming better and better at knowing how to do this. He liked it when you playfully bit his bottom lip and you felt yourself growing hot when he licked into your mouth and time did not matter anymore as you made out with each other.
While his own hands were ghosting over your sides, his lashes brushing against your cheeks and tickling you, you steadied yourself on your elbows and pressed your chest against his. In a moment of tender weakness, you smoothed your hands over his chest and flipped the two of you around.
Jace let out a surprised grunt as he landed on your pillows, wondrously looking up at you and drinking in the sight that was you, now snuggly seated in his lap. His hands went to your waist, caressing your hip bones through the fabric of your skirt.
“Maybe I should make you read to me as well, my prince.” You considered sweetly, delighted in the way he breathed a little harder. “See how long you can concentrate while I play with you, hm?”
“Princess…”
You grinned, kissing the rest of his sentence away and sensually tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. After all, he was not the only one educated in the practices of pleasure now. Time to show what your nameless ancestor had taught you through her diary.
He opened his mouth, surely to protest and insist he was fine once more, but you simply gave him a look and he closed it again. The evidence for his arousal was hot and hard under you and when you experimentally ground your hips down, a small whimper left his lips.
“I will not have you end the night unsatisfied again, Jace.” You told him sternly, making yourself comfortable and at home in his lap as you nestled with his belt.
He shook his head, although you could see the desire still burning in his dark eyes, sparked by your sudden initiative to take some little control back. “Seeing you come undone was more than enough for me already, princess.”
You shushed him, your fingertip on his lips. “Let me make you feel good too, Jace. Please.”
Jace brushed your hair back and for a moment, you could see him arguing with himself before he finally gave in to you. “Yes. You…I would like that, if you want.”
A victorious smile made its way on your face. “I do.”
You clumsily fumbled with his belt as you slowly began to kiss his neck, exploring the sensitive skin you had not felt against your lips before but could not get enough of now. Jacaerys obediently made space for you and leaned back, his mouth opening silently and eyes closing as he concentrated on only you and your hands and lips on him.
Quickly, you found out a spot that made him hiss, a sensitive patch just beneath his earlobe, when you unbuckled his pants and slid your hands down his front, over his muscled stomach, down and further down until-
Jace moaned, his fingers digging into your hip bones as you palmed the front of his underwear, feeling him almost throbbing with need against your wandering hand. You leaned back in curiosity to take a look at your beautiful boy, biting his lip and blinking at you with worship written all over his face.
“Help me a little here.” You whispered and held out your hand to him. Jace let out a shuddering breath, realizing your intention. Chapter eight. You clearly both had read it.
You trembled as he let a little bit of his spit drool down into the palm of your hand, holding your eye contact and when your own spit joined and you freed his cock to wrap your hand around his length, he hissed as if he had burned himself.
You could not decide where you wanted to look. He was beautiful, longer than you had imagined and a little curved and you couldn’t stop yourself from thumbing the slit, the precome of his tip easing the way as you slowly began to stroke him.
“Fuck…” Jace bit his lip, suppressing a little whimper, but you were quick, your thumb touching his bottom lip and encouraging him not to stifle his sounds. You had no idea what you’re doing, the reality was different from when it was all just words on a page, but you seemed to do something right given Jacaerys’ reaction to your slow and tender strokes.
“Does it feel good?” You wanted to know breathily, your lips brushing against each other as Jace bucked into your hand, unable to control himself as your hand slowly took him apart.
Jace nodded, chasing your mouth as he cupped the back of your neck and drew you close, devouring you in a hot and passionate kiss that made your hand stutter with distraction. Your other hand was squeezing his shoulder and you moved together, a dance danced best in your bed, with the one you loved and who loved you back.
“Princess…” He whispered, his whole sight angelic and holy to you as you watched him mesmerized, the slick sound of your hand around him drowned out by the string of moans leaving his plump lips as you twisted your wrist. “Gods, ‘so good to me…I’m- I’m not going to last as long as the men in those stories…”
You chuckled, lightheaded with the endless love you felt, only doubling your efforts to make your betrothed feel good at your hands. You leaned your forehead against his and breathed: “I do not care. It’s you I want. And I want to watch you come undone, Jorrāeliarzys, as you watched me.”
He whimpered, eyes fluttering closed as you slowed your hand. It seemed like Jacaerys preferred it this way, a touch so drawn out it almost felt like nothing, but was everything. You peppered kisses along his neck and exposed collarbone, coaxing him towards the same cliff you had tumbled off earlier, feeling his shivers and the strain in him as you took care of his need.
“Come on, Jace…” You lured, pressing one last kiss to his open lips before you added near his ear in a whisper: “Come for your wife, my love.”
Jacaerys’ head fell back as he released a languorous long moan, his cock twitching as he spilled his seed, your hand guiding him through the high as you watched him awestruck by his beauty. You stayed close and leaned against him, playing with his hair as he recovered, a panting mess you had made of him and you felt yourself cuddling close to.
“Are you okay?” You whispered when he did not speak, only drawing you tight against him and combing his fingers through your hair.
“Yes…I’m perfect.” He murmured and nuzzled his nose against your neck. “Just need a moment. You are a gift from the gods, my love.”
You blushed, busying yourself with gently tucking his length back into his pants and sighing happily. “This silly little diary, huh?”
You laughed together, the vision of two young lovers, happy and sated. The adrenaline and giddiness of both your actions was coursing through your veins at full force, now that the haze of pleasure had lifted from your mind.
After a while, he grimaced at the mess on your hand and you laughed quietly as he grabbed his cloak from your nightstand and quickly wiped it off for you.
“It’s not that bad.” You insisted giggly, but he was having none of it.
“I won’t have you having to sully yourself with my mess.”
“Jace, earlier your chin was covered with my-“
“Shh…” He shushed you gently and pulled you close, sinking into the pillows with you tucked against him, your head fitting just perfectly underneath his chin. You had missed the way your body fitted perfectly against his own, not protesting anymore as he hugged you close to his chest.
„I can hardly wait to get married to you…” You mumbled sleepily against his neck, your hand finding its way into his lush curls.
He smiled against your temple, his arms drawing you closer against his chest as he rested his chin on your head. “I will relish every day I’ll have with you by my side as my wife then. As I relish every moment with you now, my love.”
You hummed happily, an undeniable warmth spreading through your chest at his promise. Drawing a tiny heart on his chest, you looked up into his eyes with a plea. “Can you stay? Just a little longer until I’ve fallen asleep?”
Both of you knew he could not stay here for the night. It had been a challenge already to slip into your quarters without raising suspicious questions. But if the prince would spend the night in his betrothed’s chambers? You’d raise a scandal neither of you wanted to face or deal with.
“Of course.” He cooed and you relaxed, melting in his embrace as he carded his fingers through your hair. “I’ll stay.”
“Good.” You murmured sleepily, timidly kissing his jaw one last time as exhaustion claimed your body and bones. It was the sweetest déjà vu, your embrace similar to the one you had shared in the inn. But only this time, your hearts beating peacefully in sync with each other.
“Sleep well, princess.” Jacaerys whispered tenderly and watched as you drifted off into sleep.
He did not leave you for another few hours, but when he eventually had to, he swore himself he was going to make you fully his as soon as possible…
Perhaps a conversation with his mother was more than overdue.
𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃
my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
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wickedsmille · 2 days
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de-aged!Jason and it's tim's problem
Warnings for Jason being a wee little bean (sort of), Tim's super stellar skills with teenagers and the lack of any kind of editing. I wrote this and abandoned it so long ago but discovered it and was like aw, ok, s'kinda cute. :v
It's a tame gen fic with platonic cuddles and vague mentions to Jason and Tim's not so fantastic childhoods.
So. *vague hand wave*
“No. No way.” Tim is freaking out. 
He has ample reason to freak out because -
“Who the fuck are you?” Jason demands. 
Except, it isn’t Jason because Jason is over six inches taller with over a hundred pounds of extra muscle. Jason is nearly Bruce’s size, not some long limbed, gangly teenager just starting to grow into his shoulders. Granted, the surly scowl and inner fire is all Jason, as is the narrow eyed suspicion. So is the far too large leather jacket and armor hanging off him and the domino barely holding on. It’s a small blessing he’d forwent his helmet for patrol. 
“Your worst nightmare,” Tim replies automatically. 
Realizing the inappropriateness of what he’s said, regardless of his always wanting to say it, makes him grimace because, yeah, for a while he kind of was Jason’s worst nightmare. They’ve slipped into something approaching civil co-workers since Jason decided to invade Titans Tower to test him via a vicious beatdown but they are nowhere near take care of each other after a magical mishap territory. 
At Tim’s words, Jason drops down lower into a fighting stance and squares up with Tim, unafraid and ready to brawl even if Tim is obviously trained because only the rare few decided to go out at night in a costume and mask without the skills to back it up. And Tim is bigger than Jason. By maybe an inch but he’ll take it. It’s still a victory considering adult, not magically de-aged Jason is a behemoth. 
Waving his hands frantically, Tim amends his previous statement. “That came out wrong.”
“How does ‘Your worst nightmare’ come out wrong?” Jason spits.
“Okay, tell me you’ve never wanted to quote a movie in the middle of a fight,” Tim shoots back.
Jason seems to chew on Tim’s words before he loosens up and stands though the tension refuses to leave and the wariness remains. “If you make one wrong move I’ll smack the shit out of you.”
“Been there, done that,” Tim says as his mouth gets away from him again. 
“Wait, what?”
Later, when he’s alone, Tim is going to bang his head against a wall and smother himself with his own pillow. He can’t <i>wait</i> so long as it makes him forget the misery that is this moment in which he can’t keep his mouth shut and he has a teenage Jason Todd staring him down like he’s crazy. Which, fair. None of the Bats are sane, per say.
“What do you remember?” Tim asks tiredly.
Jason chews over his words, coiled tight and still ready to strike. His gaze roves over Tim before he finally says, “I am. Was? Robin, I think. But I was just living on the street. So, I don’t,” Jason trails off, unsure. 
“So you remember some stuff from being Robin and some from before that but not everything?” Tim guesses.
Nodding hesitantly, Tim fights the urge to slap a hand to his head. Why not make things more complicated by not only taking years off Jason’s life but also jumbling the memories he does have? Tim doesn’t mind. This is perfectly fine. Without going over each detail, there’s no way to accurately tell how much Jason does or does not remember. It’s clear he remembers being Robin but not moving in with Bruce. The two things are so closely linked, it doesn’t bode well for what other holes are in Jason’s mind. But it’s fine. 
Tim decides not to say anything else and runs his hands through his hair. It’s a good thing Bruce isn’t in town, JL business as usual these days unless one of the big name Gotham Rogues starts causing trouble, or he’d be all over tiny Jason. There is one other plausible candidate to stick on Jason Duty. A candidate already in Gotham and primed for endless cuddles and forced bonding sessions since his newest victim is spending a few weeks respite at the Kent Farm. Dick is going to be ecstatic.
Reaching up, Tim turns his com back on and pretends like Jason doesn’t flinch. “Nightwing?”
“RR,” Dick greets cheerily. “What can I do you for?”
“I’ve got a situation.”
The shift between Dick the Brother and Nightwing the Protector is stark as he asks, “Are you in trouble?”
Hesitantly, Tim hedges, “Well, not <i>me</i>, but. You’ll want to see this. Meet us back at the Cave in twenty.”
“Us?”
Tim clicks off the com and mutes it. Sure, it’ll drive Dick up a wall to not know what’s going on but Tim doesn’t feel like getting badgered into telling the whole sordid tale of Red Robin and Red Hood getting bested by a two bit magician with a splintered down piece of wood and a pointed hat. Embarrassing would not even begin to cover it so he doesn’t fancy having anyone else drop into the conversation, Barbara.
The lesser of the two evils is obviously to let Dick stew in the knowledge that Tim is safe and whole but hiding a secret. There is no other possible resource. None that would save Tim’s already wounded and dying pride. 
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Jason tells him harshly.
Tim fixes him with a flat look. “I’m not dealing with this, your brother can so you can either come with willingly or I’m tossing you over my shoulder and you’re still coming with.” How crazy is it to think he could easily carry Jason.
Jason tries to stare him down but Tim cocks a hip, crosses his arms and waits patiently. Eventually, Jason relaxes by inches. 
“Something happened to me, didn’t it?”
Tim can’t help but roll his eyes no matter how unfair it is to Jason since he can’t remember. “No,” Tim replies sarcastically, again knowing he’s being unfair but the universe started it by getting him into this mess. 
“You don’t need to be a bag of dicks.”
“You don’t need to use such language, young man.”
Jason looks like he sucked on something sour as he crosses his arms and hunches his shoulder inward. There’s a faint dusting of pink over his cheeks. It makes Tim feel a little bad. As far as he can tell, Jason is fifteen again, which sends a pang of hurt through Tim’s chest with the implications, which means he has all the false bluster and bravado that comes with being a teenager with the added bonus of being hypersensitive to embarrassment and criticism. He should stop being such an ass. 
Heaving a sigh, Tim waves Jason over as he turns his back and starts making his way down the alley to where his bike is parked. Hesitantly, Jason follows but his steps quicken as they draw near and he gets a look at Tim’s bike. The resistance is gone and replaced with awe as he circles the machine despite Tim swinging his leg over and mounting it. Patiently, like a saint, he allows Jason his moment of wonder. It is a beautiful work of ingenuity and power. 
Then the seconds drag out. Looking over his shoulder, Tim raises a brow and shrugs a shoulder towards the back of his bike. “So, I did tell Nightwing twenty minutes.”
“And the longer I keep us here the faster you’ll have to drive,” Jason replies without missing a beat, bent over and inspecting the anti-locking mechanism on the back brakes.
Tim grins, small and dangerous. “Alright. I’ll give you a couple more minutes.”
He gives Jason more than a few minutes because he knows the streets are empty and he can safely push his bike faster than he would without an excuse like chasing bad guys or coming to someone’s rescue. It took some coaxing to get Jason on and even longer to get him to wrap his arms securely around Tim but, once they had set off and Tim ran his third red light, both of them settled in for the too fast ride. Midway, Tim decides to show off and skid through a particularly sharp turn. It’s a flawless maneuver and Jason shows his appreciation by whooping loudly.
Tim does it again once they reach the cave. This time, he drifts into a narrow parking spot between the Batmobile and Nightwing’s bike. Jason’s arms tighten around him as they skirt the edges of the Batmobile by millimeters and he doesn’t let go even after they’ve come to a stop and Tim has killed the engine. Eventually, Tim has to pat Jason’s arms to get him off so Tim can breathe properly again. Jason promptly scrambles off at that. 
By the time Tim is turning around to face the main part of the Cave, Dick already by their side with a worried furrow to his brow. He blinks once at Jason, looks at Tim, blinks again at Jason then melts. 
“Oh my gods,” Dick says softly. He looks delighted and Tim does not envy Jason who’s eyeing him critically.
“When did you get so old?” Jason asks unkindly. 
Dick throws a hand over his heart and actually looks slightly offended. “Wow, okay, so I’m not <i>old</i> -”
“Yes, you are.”
“And, wow, I forgot how much of a little shit you were,” Dick finishes fondly. 
Jason bristles and looks like he wants to shove his hands in his pockets but the armored cargo pants are hanging too low for him to manage it without looking ridiculous. 
To make up for his earlier mistakes, Tim cuts in to take pity on Jason. “Turns out the guy we were chasing was the real deal. I assume you can give Zatanna a call and handle it?”
Together, Dick and Jason both ask, “You’re not sticking around?”
Tim glances between the two of them, bewildered. “Uh, no? I get enough second hand teenage angst from Damian.”
Jason doesn’t look happy about it but Dick does. He nods amicably and smiles widely. “That’s alright, I volunteer myself as tribute.” 
Without warning, he moves towards Jason with his arms raised and posed to envelope the teen in a patented Dick Grayson Hug. Swiftly, Jason side steps him and slides behind Tim so he’s blocking any other attempts Dick might make. Some of Dick’s joy falls but he looks undeterred as he lowers his arms and doesn’t move forward again. If Tim weren’t hanging onto some old hurts still and feeling petty, he’d feel a little bad for Dick. 
Tim shifts, trying to edge his way over to the computer so he can type up his report and be on his merry way but Jason gets closer and follows him like Tim’s shadow. The entire time, Dick keeps staring. The longer it goes on, the more Jason scowls at him. It is hilarious and, were Tim a casual observer, he would have burst out laughing long ago. As it is, he’s an unwilling participant in Dick and Jason’s detente and caught in the middle as Dick barely restrains himself from draping himself over Jason while Jason looks more and more like he wants to kick Dick in the nuts. 
Pointedly, Tim sits down in the computer chair which leaves Jason nowhere to go. He sticks by Tim’s side regardless, eyeing Dick who has followed them like a puppy waiting for a treat. Cuddles with his younger than normal little brother being the treat. 
There’s quiet for a few blessed minutes before Jason asks awkwardly, “What’s your name? I didn’t get it before.”
“You never asked before,” Tim says absently as he starts to write up his report. His fingers may go a little faster than usual in an attempt to hurry his escape. “But it’s Red Robin.”
“Like the restaurant?” Tim doesn’t have to look at Jason to know he’s judging. He can hear it.
“Yum,” Tim says flatly. 
“And,” Jason starts. Tim can make out Jason shifting awkwardly. “What about your real name?”
Tim cuts a glance Jason’s way and takes in the frown, the hardened edge to his eyes as they look between the Cave and Tim, the uncertainty. He shouldn’t feel guilty. He doesn’t. It’s not like he did anything wrong. But Jason didn’t either. The wannabe mage got lucky and it could’ve easily been Tim drowning in his uniform and overwhelmed by the way everything has changed from what he remembered. 
Looking back at the computer and continuing the report, Tim caves and answers, “Tim. My name is Tim. I was the Robin that came after you.”
“So this,” Jason pauses to wiggle in his armor, “was my idea when I passed on Robin?” Tim looks to see Jason giving the guns hanging from hips a dubious look. Right, he probably should have taken away the firearms.
There is so much wrong with what Jason said and has left unsaid. In no universe does Tim want to volunteer himself to answer. No amount of cutting edge tech, unlimited Zesti or epic W&W campaigns could make him handle this conversation. 
Tim searches for Dick who’s apparently made himself look busy at one of the closer work benches. His hands have stopped tinkering with the grapple gun he’d been poking moments ago and his back goes rigid. No matter how miffed he is with Dick, he doesn’t have the heart to make him handle answering Jason either. Lying is an option. Lying is a fantastic option but Jason deserves more than that.
Carefully, Tim settles on, “Yes, all that was your idea. You didn’t really pass on Robin but I don’t think we should get into it. I hope you’ll trust me and leave it alone for now.”
The silence stretches on between them, broken up only by Tim’s typing. 
“Okay,” Jason eventually answers. “Don’t get me wrong, I trust you about as far as I can throw you.”
“Let’s not test that.”
“What if I want to?” Jason asks cheekily. 
“Then we’ll see how far I can toss you,” Tim tells him simply.
“Oh, it is on, Tim.”
“Like Donkey Kong,” Tim agrees. “Later though. I’m trying to finish this and then I need to leave.”
“Didn’t peg you for a cut and run kind of person.”
“More the strategic retreat kind.”
“Sounds like you’re scared,” Jason goads him.
Tim spares him an unimpressed frown. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”
Jason smiles, sincere and cocky. “Is it working?”
“Hardly,” Tim drawls as he puts the finishing touches on the report.
He stands to leave once he’s saved and exited out of the file. Immediately, Jason’s hand shoots out and grabs Tim’s wrist. Surprised, Tim looks at him and doesn’t fight the tight grip Jason has on him. 
“Don’t leave me with him,” Jason mutters.
Tim looks at Dick who has the audacity to plaster on an innocent smile while leaning casually against the workbench. He can see it now. As soon as he leaves, Dick will be all over Jason. It won’t be the regular, suffocating attention Dick focuses on a sibling when he zeroes in on a member of the family. Oh no, it’ll be a hellish combination of guilt and excessive affection to make up for time lost and amend mistakes years in the past. Tim pinches the bridge of his nose just thinking about it. 
“Why don’t I drop you off with Alfred?” Tim counters.
Jason brightens but he doesn’t let go of Tim. “Alfie’s here?”
“Indeed,” Alfred says primly from his spot next to where the Cave connects with the manor. “Master Tim, why don’t you help Master Jason out of suit while Master Dick and I see to finding him something more suitable to wear and finishing dinner?” Alfred says it like a question but it’s far from it. 
Dick starts to protest but one look from Alfred has him clamming up. He scurries over to the lockers at Alfred’s prompting to change and shower before coming up where he’ll be waiting. Dawlding is strongly discouraged. 
Tim can recognize when his plans to flee have been thoroughly foiled. Looking Heaven-ward to plead the universe for mercy, Tim spins in the chair to face Jason. He looks a little terrified so Tim smiles gently. 
“He’s right. It can’t be comfortable wearing that and I’m familiar with the security measures built into the suit. Is it alright if I help?” Tim asks him first. Slowly, Jason nods and Tim watches as he swallows hard. Tell you what, why don’t I take the guns and I’ll walk you through everything else?” Tim offers.
“Oh gods, please,” Jason says quickly. His mouth snaps shut after, the flush on his cheeks moving up to the tips of his ears. “I mean, yeah, sounds good.”
Tim bites his lip to keep from laughing and silently disengages the security on the holsters and slips it off. He instructs Jason on how to do the same with the rest of the armor. He keeps his voice level and void of any condemnation or coddling as he does so. Surprisingly, it’s mostly painless. At least on Tim’s part. Jason looks about ready to bolt which Tim gets it, he does. The whole thing reminds him of school locker rooms and playing catch up on social norms in the worst setting possible.
That mildly traumatizing experience over with, Tim slaps his thighs and stands. “Why don’t we grab something to eat and get you into something less,” Tim stops and waves his hand at Jason but doesn’t continue. 
Even the compression shirt and pants underneath the suit are too large on Jason. He frowns down at the clothes and says sourly, “It’s not my fault I grow up to be a behemoth.”
“True,” Tim concedes. Again, they’re skating the edges of an endless rabbit hole he doesn’t want Jason to fall down. While he seems to be handling the situation well, no doubt prepped by Bruce for all manner of insane contingencies as a part of his training, Tim doubts a recounting of Jason’s death would go over as well. “Clothes and dinner then?”
“I’m not a kid so don’t treat me like one,” Jason snaps. 
“Stop looking like one and I will,” Tim counters. “I’m going to go change but you know the way up if you don’t want to wait.”
Although Tim isn’t expecting Jason to still be in the cave by the time he’s dressed down in sweatpants and a t-shirt after a sorely needed shower, he hurries through his usual after patrol routine. Just in case. The foresight turns out to be fruitful since Jason is meandering around the Cave, pausing to examine something he doesn’t recognize. When Tim comes out from the locker area, Jason’s head swivels around. 
This time Tim has no plausible reason for Jason to blush but blush he does as he looks over Tim. Deciding to ignore it, Tim finishes drying his hair and lets the towel sit around his shoulders. He nods towards the exit up to the manor. 
The trip up is uneventful. Alfred appears beside them as they emerge from the Cave and holds out a neatly folded pile of clothes. Jason takes them gratefully and ducks away to the nearest bathroom while Tim makes his way to the kitchen. With so few in the house, it’s rare they sit down in the family dining room and, as he anticipated, Alfred has dinner spread out on the nook tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. The food looks delicious, smells delicious, but Tim’s itching to leave and he knows, if he sits down with everyone, he’ll get wrangled into staying. 
From behind, Jason appears once more and Dick follows after, hovering as one does when their little brother has been demoted to extra tiny little brother. Jason, for the most part, takes it with grace by giving Dick only one heated glare over his shoulder. Jason comes to stand before Tim then Dick falls into line too. He descends on the food, plating it up and chattering away. Tim indulges him, hums where he needs to and answers any questions Dick throws his way, but Jason stays quiet. 
He doesn’t make a move to grab any food for himself which is not Tim’s problem. Jason has shown he remembers living in the manor, being Robin and Bruce’s son, so there’s no reason he can’t help himself. Tim leaves him to it so he can dig around in the pantry for one of the energy bars he knows he squirreled away in the back when he moved out for exactly this situation. As he’s shutting the pantry door, victorious with a couple bars in his hand, Jason is looking at him. He’s eyeing the food in Tim’s hand then looking at Alfred’s spread like it’ll bite him. 
It takes a second for the pieces to click together but Ra’s doesn’t call Tim Detective for no reason.
Sidling up to Jason’s side, he holds out one of the bars which Jason takes hesitantly. 
“I get it. I can grab more if you want,” Tim tells him kindly. 
Jason looks ready to beat him with the protein bar as he hisses, “What would you know, rich boy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your Bristol accent.”
“Packaged food is safe, right?” Tim asks him rhetorically, his voice cold. Jason’s comment rubs him the wrong way. “Don’t have to worry about something being in it or being spoiled. Hard habit to shake when you fall back on old conditioning.”
Jason flinches back. 
“Hey, you guys coming?” Dick asks through a mouthful of food from where he’s seated at the table.
“Nah, neither of us is very hungry,” Tim lies smoothly. “We’ll probably grab a couple snacks.”
Dick looks upset about the change in course, frowning around another forkful of food. Like magic, Alfred sweeps into the room before Dick can protest. 
“Perhaps retire to the sitting room? I can have an assortment of snack items brought in. I dare say a calm night in would do this family good.” There’s a knowing glint in Alfred’s eye.
Remembering Dick’s propensity for cuddles and Jason’s resistance to it, Tim bumps Jason’s shoulder as he says, “What do you think? Or do you want to pick?”
“Library, I’d prefer the library,” Jason says automatically.
Alfred smiles without smiling. “Very good, Master Jason. I’ll bring a few things up to you and Master Tim if you’d like to go get settled now.”
“Actually-” Tim tries to interject. Jason will be fine. From what Tim’s learned, the library is Jason’s safe space, he’ll have food to eat and he’ll have Alfred to help him through. Tim isn’t needed. He’s not even sure why he’s being so nice.
It’s not them. With no idea on how to overcome the bad blood between himself and Jason, Tim hasn’t tried to repair their relationship and Jason hasn’t made any effort to either. Really, Tim should’ve left Jason to Dick and Alfred back in the cave. Putting his foot down would’ve had him gone already, sitting in his nest and ordering pizza while going over his active cases. 
But Jason looks so lost. He’s fronting, falling on the familiar anger and confidence he’s always had. He’s regressing back into a mindset more befitting the streets now that he’s so uncomfortable and likely feeling cornered. It’s so unlike the Jason Tim knows. Jason’s always been full of piss and vinegar but this softer version? It makes Tim’s heart hurt a little but in a way he can’t ignore. 
Like Jason has read Tim’s mind, his hand wraps around Tim’s wrist again and he pulls him out of the kitchen.
Leading them into the foyer and up the stairs, with his back to Tim, he asks, “How did you know? About the food.”
Taken aback by Jason’s aggressive exit and his new role as a tow-along, the truth slips out. “Uh, my parents. They left me alone a lot and forgot sometimes about the groceries. I got sick a couple times from eating spoiled stuff so I stuck to non-perishables.”
In answer, Jason grunts. “That’s fucked up.”
“My therapist agrees.”
“You have a therapist?”
Tim laughs. “Of course not. What respectable Bat does?”
When Jason laughs with him, it shakes loose something warm in Tim’s chest. He shakes away the feeling as Jason pushes into the library. Once they’re inside, Jason releases him. He doesn’t move right away, instead choosing to stand and survey the room.
Working on another hunch, Tim walks past Jason to a closet tucked away in the corner. Throwing the door open, he gatherers as many of the pillows and blankets inside as he can fit in his arms, kicks the door shut and dumps his haul on the bay window overseeing the back gardens. He arranges it all to make a comfortable looking nest. Once done, he nods in approval and gives himself a pat on the back. He cracks open the window as a finishing touch and presents his handiwork with a flourish.
“Easy exit, sight lines to all access points and extra pillows perfect for relaxing,” Tim says. Jason stays locked looking at him so Tim raises a brow. “Are you going to grab a book or stare at me all day?”
Jason jolts out of whatever trance he’d fallen into and quickly says, “Yeah, yep, I’ll go do the book thing with the reading.”
Tim smiles fondly as Jason trots into the shelves to retrieve a book. Tim can hear Jason as he searches for a book. The sounds are not encouraging. There’s a lot of murmured curses, grunting and frustrated growls. Once more, Tim resigns himself to helping out Jason. It doesn’t feel as much like a chore anymore.
“Issues?” Tim calls.
“They’re all 1st editions!” Jason yells back. “Who does that?”
“Give me a second,” Tim hollers back. 
Because Tim had a hard time leaving well enough alone as a kid, he knows Jason’s old room has several well worn copies of Jason’s favorites. Ones that could get thrown in a fire and he’d be out a couple bucks to replace it, cheap copies he can use over and over again till the pages are fraying and the spines have separated. Tim picks the lock on Jason’s old room and grabs a couple of the most worn down paperbacks. A young Tim may have been armed with curiosity and a lack of boundaries but he didn’t go so far as to read Jason’s favorites. Definitely not. That wasn’t a thing. 
Back in the library, Jason has settled into the seat of the bay window. He holds out the books to Jason who takes them and inspects each. 
“Are you a mind reading meta or something?” Jason asks him suspiciously. 
“No, nothing like that,” Tim replies.
“So someone just fucked you up real good like me?”
Grinning ruefully, Tim shrugs. “I like to think I turned out alright.”
“Yeah, you did.” Jason clamps his mouth shut after his off hand comment and his face goes red. Suddenly, he’s a lot more focused on the books in his hands than talking to Tim.
Tim’s not touching that with a ten foot pole but it’s still amusing. He settles on the floor, content to wait for Alfred, snacks and the excuse that it’s getting late so he can slip away guilt-free.
“You’re seriously going to sit down there?” Jason eventually asks to break the companionable silence between them. 
Seeing a possible out, Tim responds, “I can go somewhere else if you’d rather be alone?” He doubts it since Jason has imprinted on him or somehow deemed Tim a safe person and latched on but a man can hope.
When he looks up, he meets Jason’s eye. The blush is back in full force. “No, I don’t like being alone,” he admits grudgingly. 
The something warm in Tim’s chest is back again, stronger than before. It makes his brain soupy, or it’s the exhaustion and need for sleep. Either way, Tim tells him, “Neither do I.”
“So get up here,” Jason demands. Very pointedly, Tim looks at the bay window and the distinct lack of space to fit an extra person. Aggressively opening one of his books, scowling at the pages, Jason mutters, “Just fucking get up here.”
When Jason hops out of burrow of blankets and points at the window seat, Tim figures he can humor him. What’s the harm, after all? If anything it proves the point that although it is incredibly comfortable with the way Tim layered the blankets there’s no way they could both fit. He spreads his arms wide to encompass the fact that there isn’t enough room for them to share. 
The humor drains right out of him as Jason steps up to the window, his expression twists together in a curious mix of angry fear and climbs into Tim’s lap. Tim would like to amend that. Jason awkwardly climbs up into his lap. Actually, it is super awkward. 
Tim’s so stunned by the forwardness of the actions that all the words he wants to push past his lips get stuck and die on his tongue. 
Like this is any old day and not what’s shaping up to be one of the weirdest days of Tim’s life, Jason scooches over as far as he can till his back is pressed against the window. He’s half turned towards the ceiling but tucked tightly against Tim’s side. It’s not cuddling, not really with Tim’s arm pinned between them and Jason doing his best to squeeze back so they don’t touch even though it’s unavoidable. It is tangentially related to cuddling though. 
Jason starts reading. Tim starts staring at him blankly.
“You’re shit at cuddling,” Jason grumbles.
As if Tim’s brain couldn’t break anymore, here comes a teenage Jason to bulldoze over the semblance of a higher thinking he’d been able to scrape together. With his mind officially offline, Tim’s mouth takes the wheel.
“I haven’t had much practice.”
Taking Tim’s arm, he pulls it out from between them and sits up enough he can get it around his shoulders. Once satisfied, he grabs Tim’s other arm and drapes it around his chest as he lies fully on his side. He even nuzzles into Tim’s chest then goes back to reading.  
What.
“My mom used to cuddle me like this,” Jason whispers, eyes never leaving the pages of his paperback.
How is Tim supposed to handle that? He is not equipped for this. They have officially bumbled, dived head first, into things better handled by Dick. Or Steph. Or Cass. Not Tim. But is he mad about it? He has to stop and think about that.
Tim tightens his arms and scoots down a little to get into a more comfortable position. He’s no expert on cuddling but it seems like something that can take a while. Until Jason is back to his fire-fed-gasoline attitude, Tim can deal with this, he decides. He’s already caved to every other whim Jason has had, has helped him feel more centered when his entire world has shifted, so he may as well stop fighting it so much and get it over with before Jason gets the chip back on his shoulder. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. 
Sleepily, Jason asks him, “You keep watch, yeah?”
Patting his arm, Tim hums, “Yeah, no worries. I’ll be the look out.”
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notes-of-nari · 2 days
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Stray Kids as the Friendly Ghost
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I.N •You were intrigued for many years about the mysterious boy who lives in your twin house. You have seen him randomly either in your shared garden or at the doorstep of his side of the house. Even though you had always wanted to strike up a conversation with him you always decided to do it later because you were afraid that you might embarrass yourself by going there and stuttering (cause you knew pretty well that you were most probably having a crush on him)
•Speaking about crush, it all comes crashing down when you tell a friend of yours about him and she goes on to reveal that the other side of your twin house is actually empty?? You don't believe it until a little call to the person who sold you the side of your house reveals that the other side is indeed empty.
•however when you walk back home you find him sitting on the swing in your shared garden his eyes closed as he silently seems to sing along to a song that plays from his headphones.
•You trip on a stone and nearly fall. He opens an eye and looks at you and notices you look at him. His eyes widen in surprise as his palm flies towards his mouth. he then runs towards his side of the house.
•Your mind is completely in turmoil as you wonder who this mysterious person is. After a sleepless night, you decide to find out the truth for yourself. So you march up to his side of the house and loudly knock on the door. You earn a few suspicious glances from your neighbours but no one answers the door. •You wonder if studying too much has made you go crazy and see things. But this guy was your crush! Is his presence also like your non existent love life?
•However your efforts are fruitful. One day as you stand at his doorstep ready to knock on his door,he opens the door right at that moment. "oh hii" you greet him and his eyes widen again before he shuts the door right in your face. "rude.." you mutter before he opens the door again and looks at you in disbelief. "you can see me?" he asks. "yeah" you shrug. "no wayyy...no.." •you notice a few tears falling down his eyes as he suddenly hugs you. He seems to be shaking as he sobs. You are frozen unable to understand what's happening but you pat his back hoping he would calm down. • "No freaking wayyyy" It is now your time to express your disbelief as he reveals that he is a ghost? He introduces himself as Jeongin. • You are soon able to accept that he is indeed a ghost. (rip your non existent love life/and crush) • Even though you both were awkward at first after some time you both become good friends. However a few days later you wake up to find seven ghosts glaring at you. "If you hurt him we will kill you" One of them threatens while holding a knife at your direction. "No minho is just joking. we won't kill you but please take care of Jeongin yeah?.." the ghost with an Australian accent says before he pulls his friend away and the seven of them disappear.
•"Jeongin the ghost" as you now fondly call him ,drags you on his random late night walks as he explores various parts of your little town. •Judges your fashion taste like Anton ego judges food. What kind of garbage are you wearing in this household? This is uhh a hoodie.. skirt and trousers.". Shakes his head in disappointment while mumbling something that sounds like "looks like a Disney series came to life"
•you wake up one day with a whole fashion critic report on your bedside table. you only have three black hoodies,two jeans,one skirt,and 2 black tee shirts? Let's go shopping bitch.
•Every messy person like you who has a gold fish memory deserves a friend like him. "Did you see my note book?" "You left it on the chair" "Did I visit the doctor last month" "yes you did..you even brought a guide to crocheting on the way back here" " oh shit I forgot that I brought such a book" "jeongin did you take my chocolate chip tart?" "You ate it last Sunday remember?" •Helps you pack your clothes for your three day college trip.But he literally overpacks amidst your protests. "come on jeongin it's just a three day educational trip. I don't need 5 t shirts" He is not pleased about the fact that you removed all the extra clothes he had packed for you. So later that night when you are asleep he adds all those clothes back into your suitcase. Fast forward- 1st day of the trip night, you open your suitcase to find a whole ton of clothes. "YANG JEONGIN!!!!!" ------The ghost who is chilling back at home suddenly sneezes. "I guess she is thanking me for adding the extra clothes" He smiles and shrugs. •If you need someone's true and honest opinion on anything he is the number one choice. No sugar coating just the honest hard truth. •When you ask him if he can help you with your college assignments, "do i look like someone who survived past the 1st year of college?" he deadpans before disappearing. • He gifts you with a pair of shoes and a cake on your birthday. You are so happy and grateful so you try to hug him. But he runs away out of your reach. "come on dude let me hug you once.." "no" he runs around the house ( he doesn't disappear like usual though?) "you hugged me first" you remind him of the day he hugged you after he realized that you could see him. "that was a one time thing" he shouts as he leaps away from your reach. BangChan / Lee Know/Changbin/Hyunjin/Han/Felix/Seungmin
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yesokayiknow · 9 months
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they try, honestly they do, but the doctor isn't a stationary creature and never has been, especially not when they know there's something they could help with. which is to say, it takes a week of soft quiet life before he starts begging kate for a job. kate in turn withstands three weeks of the doctor's incessant begging and big puppy dog eyes while donna noble stands right behind him and mouths don't you fucking dare before she makes a counteroffer: he can work in a lab (the 'very far away from active duty' is implied) as long as he meets with unit's therapist.
and he refuses, of course, loudly and profusely, right up until donna very gently but very firmly tells him that it really could help, actually.
so. therapy. the doctor assumes it won't do anything. the unit therapist is no nonsense and unflinching and very very bright, and twenty minutes later the doctor sits outside the room hyperventilating while kate finishes paperwork and kindly doesn't mention the way he's all but curled into her.
the second session ends much like the first, and the third, and then the fourth he walks out with dry eyes and a tremulous smile. the fifth, kate calls donna and she takes him home and they drink hot chocolate and he doesn't start talking again until the next day. it takes him seven sessions to be able to stay in the room for the full hour; kate pats him on the back and then finally allows him to build a shield for her office as a reward. she sits outside the therapist's office every time he has a session, even though she has to have better things to do. they don't talk about it.
unit only has files on things the doctor's done on earth, and even then, only sometimes, which means that when the doctor talks about some things he just. edits, a little. talks about two weeks in a confession dial and a month in prison, because maybe then he doesn't have to think about the enormity of it all. and every single time he does this, the therapist looks at him and very kindly calls bullshit. it's weird, being known. it's different with donna. he is donna and donna is him, in ways they will probably never talk about. but he sits in that cluttered little office for an hour a week (sometimes two or three times, if he's doing particularly badly) and he feels seen.
after four months, there are memories he can touch without flinching, and people he can talk about without crying. he starts spending a couple of hours just sitting in the vortex, not because he's hiding or running but just because he likes the way it feels against his skin. he cooks dinner every other night and washes up when he doesn't. he takes out the bin every week even though it's rose's job, because he loves her. and he can say that now, and he doesn't think about her short lifespan or about all the other people they've loved and lost. he can say that and just mean it.
part of his contract is an agreement to never offer a trip to a member of unit unless it's actual life or death (the small chemical leak in the lab doesn't count; he takes shirley to new mars anyway) but he finds himself toying with the idea of asking for a session in the tardis. just once, just to see. the therapist looks at him and sees him and it is monstrous and they keep looking anyway and now the doctor can sit through a family dinner without wanting to tear his skin off and he doesn't know any other way to say thank you.
it's funny, almost, how quickly he grows attached to this person who picks through his hurts and rifles through his traumas and holds direct eye contact while doing so. the doctor talks about their deaths and their crimes and their cowardice and the therapist nods and asks him how he feels and it's. it's terrifying. it's beautiful. it's the worst thing he's ever ever been through, and the best. he feels ripped apart and put back together in a way that few people have ever been able to— huh.
after his sixty eighth session (he's unable to not keep count) the doctor walks outside to where kate is annotating a schematic and says, thoughtfully, they're the master in disguise, aren't they. and kate says oh 100% and please don't let them know that you know because they will definitely go to the second stage of whatever long con they've been hatching and they're too good at this for us to let them go
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myeagleexpert · 21 days
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The Perfect Boyfriend
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𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖛𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖕 𝖒𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖊𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘
Doppleganger/Skinwalker!Yandere x YN (AFAB) Summary: Despite living in a pink world, there's a little voice in the back of your head that tells you that there's something strange with your boyfriend. It can't be anything important, right? (You'll regret not listening to it) Warnings: (Toxic relationships, obsessed relationships, mental manipulation, the smell of rot, description of death, description of fear and panic, a little sentimental smut, The thing loves you - too much.) Uncertain motives. He tries to keep you trapped. The term 'YN' and 'you' is used several times in the fanfic for better grammatical use, my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. <3 PT1: Candlelight dinner PT2: She Knows
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It was already night when your boyfriend showed up at your door, well… er-EX boyfriend. You and Kain had been together for a few months, but when you realized how toxic and rude he was, you felt the need to break up with him. Just a week later, he shows up at your door asking for forgiveness and begging to have you back.
“Shall we at least talk?” Kain’s voice sounds like a broken record that became softer and more pleasant to listen to as he spoke, like a person with a hoarse throat from a hangover, which… well, that was Kain almost every day.
He says, offering you a beautiful bouquet of Japanese flowers, in shades of pink and pastel pink, of various sizes, wrapped in paper that imitated butterfly wings, wrapped in such an elegant and harmonious way. It was an incredibly beautiful and thoughtful bouquet. It was actually an image you had recently visualized at the flower shop and in your desired heart. Point 1 that something is wrong.
Kain has only given you flowers exactly 3 times. All three of them were cheap plastic red roses, still with the price tag on them when YN picked them up and an unmistakable smell of old invaded her nose so much that it made her cough, she has always been sensitive to smells.
These smell of harmonious and enchanted nature, as if one of Monet's beautiful paintings had come to life. But YN is hurt by the aggressive breakup, mulling over painful old memories while trying to maintain her pride with a glass or two of wine. With her mind clouded by sadness and anger, she fails to realize that the man in front of her is strangely… strange.
"What's the bouquet for? You're not going to buy me with that." YN crosses her arms and looks skeptically at the beautiful flowers.
"Please! Accept it as a peace offering!" he says approaching YN with the bouquet, trying to place it in her arms almost desperately.
They were too stupidly beautiful to refuse… but there is something in her heart that tells you to close the door immmediatly.
Sensing your hesitation, he tries to convince you once more.
“Just a conversation, nothing more. I know that… we didn't end up on the best of terms… but please, I need to talk to you.” The man looks at YN with sincerity and devotion in his… blue eyes? YN could have sworn that his eyes were beautiful brown.
“Okay. Okay. Just ONE conversation. And after that… I don't want to see you in front of me anymore.” The girl stomps her foot and maintains her angry and indifferent posture as she receives the flowers and opens the door wider so he can enter.
“And don't even think about jumping on my couch like last time! I'm still paying for the conc-“ Normally Kain would have thrown his muddy sneakers on the floor and sprawled on the couch, but to the girl's surprise, he was right next to her, waiting for her to guide him.
“Did I break your couch? I'm sorry, let me pay for the repair now, okay?” Don't pretend to be nice in front of me, just look at him pretending to be innocent as if he hadn't thrown in my face that the problem was mine.
“I don’t want anything from you, let’s get things moving.” YN spits out the venom, entering the room and placing the bouquet on the table while the man follows her wherever she goes, until they sit on the couch (the one that isn’t broken) in the living room.
In better light, YN can see that there’s something different about him. And Kain dyed his hair, his short black hair was chin-length, the ends highlighted in rich caramel tones. The skin that was once worn out by tiredness and nights of drinking was almost porcelain, clean, with hardly any prominent pores. The thin, frowning mouth had soft, kissable lips, his jaw was well defined too. The post-breakup glow, huh?
“You look different…” you make the observation as you settle into the couch, trying not to seem interested in anything he might have to say, but curiosity is addictive, right?
“Did you like it?” He lights up when you notice and runs your hand through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear as he approaches you.
It's for you.
When he tries to get closer, you aggressively place a pillow between the two of you, much to Kain's dismay, who seems to immediately wilt at your attitude. "I said different. Don't let it go to your head." As sharp as a Tramontina knife, you cut him off immediately.
"You said you wanted to talk, come on. Talk." You snort, putting on a serious posture and looking him straight into his fake eyes. Contacts, Kain? Seriously?
"Ah.. yes, I wanted to talk to you YN." He turns towards her, giving her all the attention she once begged for. A bitter taste invades your mouth, like the feeling of receiving a gift that your child would dream of receiving, but you miss as an adult. A belated gift, that means less than the dust on the soles of your shoes.
“I ask you to reconsider… we've had our ups and downs in our relationship, but I know it has a lot of potential. Let's try again, let me show you how much I've changed, how happy we can be together.” He tries to give a friendly smile.
Change in a week? Nah, spare me.
“Nobody changes that much in a week, Kain. I don't move out of resentment and you've never changed out of guilt.” YN puts him against the wall coldly. “Why do you want to get back together? You called me worthless and now you see the potential in us? Humph… Your offer isn't the best.” She snorts as she looks at him with disdain, wanting to know where all this is coming from.
“Wait! Please!” Kain approaches and desperately takes her hand. “I know I was rude and rude to you… I was selfish and I never gave you the value you deserved. I was terrible and you have every right to refuse me…”
Oh, and how I do.
“But if you give me a chance, I promise you won’t regret it-“
“Oh, I don’t want to pay to see. In the last fight I ended up punching the wall… I don’t want to wait for you to hit my head.” Your gaze is furrowed, irritated and for a moment you notice the same look pass quickly through Kain’s. Is he upset that you threw that in his face?
“I’m sorry about that scene YN, it wasn’t me…” the last part rings so true that YN raises an eyebrow skeptically “You didn’t deserve to go through that.”
Masculine hands move to hold YN’s cheeks as he gently caresses them. They seem too big.. but let’s leave that thought for later. He’s different.. and little by little you’re feel disarmed by his attitude.
“I can’t live without you. Please… just give me one chance to prove to you that I’m your best option. That I’ve changed. That I can be better.” Kain's voice is like a warm blanket, enveloping all your senses… like a mermaid would envelop a sailor until he drowned.
He's never spoken to me like that. He's never used that tone with me.
As the red lights in your head go off, you try to pull away from his hands. Seeing your attempt to pull away, he tightens his grip and moves even closer to your body. There's something strange in his blue eyes… maybe it's a devotion you weren't used to… or something strangely… uncanny.
"YN…" he whispers sweetly and delicately, moving even closer until your eyes are staring directly into each other's.
"I love you… so much. You mean so much to me." He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against yours. "Give me a chance… just one."
Something possessed you at that moment. The wine must have messed with your head. You must have been drugged. The water was bad. You must be sick. You must have been PMSing. Or ovulating. Or menstruating… because there's no rational reason why you gave in, and nodded slightly with your head tilted to accept his offer.
"Are you serious?" He looks into your eyes and finds no lie, just a hesitation. "I'm so happy! You won't regret it!" He hugs YN and wraps her in strong arms, burying his face in her shoulder while placing small kisses on her face.
When you hug him back, very suspiciously, you notice that his body is different. Taller, more muscular, more attractive… he couldn't make such a change in a week, he didn't even go to the gym.
"YN, look at me…" with a delicate hand on her chin he guides her to his lips, where they kiss delicately, savoring each other's presence. Until the smell of his perfume invades your nose, enveloping you in a light trance.
Kain smells like expensive perfume.
He always smelled like alcohol and cigarettes, something you always complained about. He now had a feeling of cleanliness and elegance, the leather jacket was new too. The smell of perfume is almost suffocating. Why would he be wearing such a fragrant and expensive perfume?
When the two of them are separated for air, Kain looks with so much devotion and love while caressing her lower lip "I love you."
Kain smiles in a way that YN had never seen him smile like that. Big mouth, too white teeth and some sharp hidden fangs.
There's something wrong with her ex-boyfriend.
----
But two weeks later… YN forgets about it, keeping any survival instinct or voice of conscience in a drawer at the back of her mind, along with the unpleasant memories of the relationship. Mentally thanking him for having changed.
It was as if she was floating on clouds and Kain was her ray of sunshine.
As time went by, YN fell more and more in love with Kaius, as if she was getting to know a new side of him. It was as if he had created a rosy and passionate world, where he controlled all reality around her, solving everything for her. YN felt trapped in a state of enchantment and dependence almost like a drug addict, laughing alone and going limp in his presence.
It was fascinating for Kaius to manipulate YN's emotions, keeping her trapped in a state of passion and blind trust while he himself fell into a state of disillusionment. Every gesture and behavior of his was calculated to make her fall even more in love, while he tried hard to hide any detail that could reveal the truth. YN found herself increasingly trapped in the spell, unable to realize that the man she had fallen in love with was… too perfect, a romance novel, the kind she had most innocently dreamed of until the adventures in hidden paragraphs. Kaindid everything perfectly and still left her wanting more.
It's been two great weeks, YN visits him at his house almost every day and they're getting ready to live together, she's been going out with her party-loving friends, she's been so productive at work that she got a promotion today!
“Congratulations YN! I knew our project would boost you in the company.” Your boss praises you, it was hard and delicate work but she knew that by putting herself in your hands she would prosper.
“Thank you very much for your trust.” You smile at her.
“The guys are going to celebrate the success after work, are you coming?” she asks, noticing that you're not getting ready to go out
“Oh no, I promised I'd go out with my boyfriend to celebrate today. But I'm going to celebrate the weekend with you guys!” you say, reminding her that you're still going out with the company this weekend, but she looks confused
“Your boyfriend? Didn't you guys break up two or… three weeks ago?”
“We're back together, and he's better than ever, can you believe it?” you show her a picture of the two of you at the eco-park, him holding your waist while smiling beautifully.
Your boss looks suspicious, she could swear by the name of the company that she'd seen him somewhere before, like a piece of information on the tip of her tongue that's soon forgotten strangely… but she tries to give you a vote of confidence “Err… I'm happy for you. But remember, we've had clients who were wolves in sheep's clothing. Enjoy the honeymoon phase.” She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. “Call me if you need anything, dear.”
Wolf in sheep's clothing… interesting.
You think about this as you ride back to his house on your motorbike, and right on the way you enter the usual flower shop and meet Thomas, the friendly old man who sells the flower shop.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas!” you greet him as soon as you arrive at the store. His tired eyes soon find your presence as you explore the garden in search of a plant that catches your attention.
“Good afternoon, girl.” He walks towards you in slow steps, supporting himself with his old wooden cane.
“I think I’ll take this one here-“ you point to beautiful white alstroemerias.
“Your boyfriend is allergic to these.” He warns, looking at them. “He came here the other day and when he was going to touch this one, it looked like my cat, he started coughing and almost vomited when he touched the plant.”
You turn your head to him in confusion. Kain has never been allergic to flowers.
“I found it strange, because people usually aren’t allergic to this type of alstroemeria.” The old man scratches his chin thoughtfully but then laughs to himself. “But I suppose, each organism works differently.”
“That’s true, the human body has one of those.” You laugh with him, but then you notice him staring at you. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s taking good care of you, isn’t he? You look very radiant, girl.” The old man’s soft voice breaks any tension you were feeling before, and with a slightly blushing face you admit that yes.
“You know, the first time he came in here I thought he was a drunk when I bought those red, plastic roses… on your first date.” Mr. Thomas’s body shivers with disgust at the boy’s lack of romance.
“Oh my god… my head hurts just remembering, he dropped some flowers and came staggering, he smelled terrible of cigarettes.”
“It’s likely he wasn’t drunk… but high, Mr. Thomas.” You whisper to him.
“And how did you fall in love with something like that?” the rolled eyes make YN laugh a little at the florist's drama but before she could say anything he continues
“But the second time he came, he seemed like a gentleman. He walked elegantly through the plants and I was surprised when he chose that bouquet of Japanese flowers…”
“Me too! I wanted them so much!” you sigh in love
“Exactly the flowers you wanted…” he murmurs softly as he picks up a dead leaf from one of the vases
“But that's not what caught my attention, dear…”
“What caught your attention?” Was it his muscles? His hair? The beautiful way he speaks?
He spends a few seconds thinking about how to tell you exactly what it was that made him feel....
“A few years ago, when I was young, I traveled for work and spent a week away. When I came back, the first thing that caught my attention was the smell I could smell from the door…” the old gardener narrates his story with his eyes clouded with nostalgia and worry, as if he wanted YN to understand his point making you feel anxious…..
“My wife had been dead for 3 days… The putrid smell was terrible.” The words are almost like a whisper “I never forgot that smell.”
“That boy smelled like death the second time he came here.” As the gardener looks directly into your eyes YN feels her breath catch in her lungs.
What does he mean by that?
“What did she die of?” YN curiously asks him
“Heart attack or something like that.. I'm sorry. I…” the old man shudders and sits in a nearby chair visibly shaken by such memories while you get him some water trying to somehow give him comfort.
“Oh YN, the smell was very strong and terrible…. when that man came in here I could only remember that.” The man's vision was blurred because he loved his wife very much, he held on tightly to his cane to keep himself steady.
"I'm sorry about your wife, I'm sorry I made you remember all this…" YN crouched down next to him as she picked up the glass of water, feeling guilty for such emotions in the old florist.
He then looked at YN with pity for her kindness, big confused and kind eyes stared back at him, old Mr. Thomas and decided to swallow his tears as he tried to compose himself.
"I'm not saying your boyfriend is a zoombie or anything like that" he laughed as he slowly stood up "But I'm saying he smelled really bad when he got here, remind him to take baths, okay?" he said with the same funny tone as always, playing with the rhymes and tones of the words while to lighten the mood she laughed at him.
"Oh, he smells much better now." You said remembering the bubble baths you took together
"Was it you who gave him that perfume? Good choice.”
What?
“What perfume, Mr. Thomas?” you ask, helping him to the counter.
“It’s an expensive perfume, very good… I think I’ve only smelled one person wearing it, the mayor of the city in 1980. Good taste, it’s an extremely refined perfume.”
“O-oh… yeah.”
“Now he wears it a lot, I felt suffocated in his presence…” he says, adjusting his clothes and cane. “Well, me and my plants.” He laughs to himself.
“Sorry about that, I know they’re sensitive to strong smells.” You laugh.
"I give him a second chance, he brings me really pretty flowers, huh?"
"Oh, the romantic ones."
YN drives confused back to Kain's house, she remembers the drive being longer before they got back together, there were more houses in the neighborhood and that he still lived with his parents. In two weeks she has never heard of his parents… or the neighbors… or the dog he had… where are they?
Her steps are automatic and before she knows it she is in front of a cozy and chic house, with plants in front decorating a beautiful backyard with very green grass and all doubts and questions disappear when she knocks on the door, anxious for her dear boyfriend to answer.
Almost immediately the door opens, he seems to always be waiting for her like a dog anxiously awaits its owner, he would never leave her waiting.
“Good night, darling, I missed you so much.” He wraps her in a comforting hug and gives her a sweet kiss on the forehead, inviting her to come into the house, taking off her coat and boots, a gesture that always makes butterflies fly in YN’s stomach.
Oh, the little gestures < 3…
Wait, what is he wearing?
“Oh, you look beautiful in an apron, you know?” YN compliments her boyfriend, giving him a mischievous smile.
He was wearing a pastel pink plaid apron, with red lace the same shade as his cheeks when he hears her compliment.
“Oh, did you like it? I-i just wanted to surprise you, my love. Let’s celebrate, remember?”
“And how could I forget?” YN hugs him and he quickly wraps his arms around her again “I’d rather be here with you than go out to celebrate with the company.”
“And I’m going to make you enjoy every bit of tonight…” he murmured with a smirk on his lips as he brushed their noses together in a delicate gesture. He took YN’s chin between his fingers, guiding her head to within inches of his mouth. At this moment, YN’s hands began to roam Kain’s body, transforming the moment into something more intimate.
“Oh darling, what a big body you have…” she said in a husky tone, playing with the hem of his shirt. A sneaky hand left trails of fire on Kain’s body.
“It’s to protect you better, my love…” he chuckled, pulling her closer to him with his hands on her waist. The air was heavy between the two of them, and YN delighted in seeing her boyfriend’s pupils dilate like a cat’s.
“Oh darling, what big eyes you have…”
“It’s to see you better, my little one…” he chuckled softly, and his large hands began to explore her body, from her hips to her breasts, firmly cupping her breasts. goosebumps on both of them, some sparks of passion starting to turn into dangerous flames….
“But darling, what big hands you have…” the young woman's body is pressed closer against his warm body as she bats her eyelashes innocently, an innocence that doesn't reach the small smirk on her lips
“Oh, yes darling, I have nice big hands, don't I? It's the better to hold you, sweetheart……” in a husky and low voice he answers, bringing his mouth to YN's neck giving long kisses in the region Kain lets out a soft moan as YN runs her hand through his hair encouraging him, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure down his spine.
He looks at YN, blue eyes full of desire and an almost primal hunger, as he continues to kiss and tease the delicate skin…
“Oh but.. darling?” YN breathed
“Yeah?” Kain breathed back
“And why such a big mouth?”
He licks his lips as he brings his girlfriend's face closer with one hand, inches away from her succulent lips, possessively squeezing her curves with the other, making YN moan slightly, their heartbeats synchronizing as they look intensely into each other's eyes…
"It's fo-" The oven alarm goes off, a high-pitched and unromantic sound, making the two young lovers frustrated by the break in the moment.
YN grunts, leaning her head against Kain's chest, feeling embarrassed now that the sound of the alarm has brought her sanity back. She always feels like she loses her self-control around Kain. He laughs lightly at her reaction and strokes her hair gently.
"Hey, it's your surprise in the oven…" he kisses the top of her head "Go take a shower, honey, it's time for me to finish the preparations, okay?" She nods and lets go of him, climbing the stairs to the first floor, almost floating, still recovering from the previous moment with a silly smile on her face, the same one Kain had while preparing the frosting and strawberries for the cake…
YN's nose only realizes now that the house has a very sweet smell, normally she is already used to the smell in the house but today the traditional smell of roses and homey is more like an open candy store, when entering the room she notices that there are more air fresheners than usual in every corner and corner. Kain knows that Yn has a sweet tooth, always looking for desserts and sweet smells and he was very happy to make this house as comfortable as possible… but is he not exaggerating? Nah, never.
The young woman enters the marble bathroom, now with feminine touches everywhere the eye can see: Skincare that smells like tutti frutti gum, soap that smells like strawberries, shampoo that smells like raspberries, towels in a shade of pastel pink, matching the bathroom rugs and the flowers near the mirror.
YN laughs dreamily, who would have thought that for such a big man with such a rough appearance, Kain wouldn't be more than happy to have the same feminine smell as his girlfriend? He insists, as they take a shower together. He insists while using the same floral perfume as his girlfriend, claiming that he wants to have the same smell as his girlfriend, he feels closer to her every time she does leave and he could recognize her sweet scent.
YN leaves the bathroom refreshed and radiant and puts on a comfortable dress but with a slight neckline, delicate pink with white polka dots to match her boyfriend's cute apron. She sighs in relief that the day is finally over and all she will do now is enjoy the night with Kain, he always made her worries melt away with the slightest touch, and with the slightest touch from YN, Kain felt determined to do everything for her.
They were a perfect couple and beautiful to behold.
The world was pink with cotton candy clouds.
The background music was like a fairy tale from an old romance.
What more could she want?
As she dries her hair, she receives a message from her boss and ignores it thinking it must be a photo of the company's celebration or a request to reform some document. Not today, she thought to herself. When the messages became frantic, YN began to find the situation strange and, shrugging her shoulders, decided to pick up her cell phone and check what was happening.
She held her breath.
It wasn't a photo of the company party.
It was an image of Kain's body, dead in a car accident.
It wasn't a message asking her to reform some document.
It was a message in capital letters that screamed in desperation:
Boss: YN THIS IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND. Boss: KAIN DIED IN AN ACCIDENT THREE WEEKS AGO. Boss: RUN AWAY IMMEDIATELY!
YN feels the world fall apart as she lets her cell phone fall from her cold hands, while she keeps the storm of emotions inside her in a confused way. Trembling, she sits on the carefully made bed, and a cold hand tries to cover her half-open mouth. In a state of shock, all the girl can do is stay paralyzed, staring at the emptiness in the room while her hair drips and wets the bed.
No… this can't be real…..
She looks at the photo once more, a big red circle marking the date: It happened three weeks ago.
How….. is this….. possible?
She tries to reason while catching her breath, a mixture of sadness and fear taking over her heart.
"Honey, everything is ready! Are you going down now?" Kain's voice echoes through the house, he is asking at the foot of the stairs while drying his hands.
Fear is not enough.
Panic takes over YN's body so much that she starts to shake horribly and any logical thought disappears, becoming paralyzed.
"Will you be long, sweetheart?"
I need to get away from here. This man wants to kill me. OMG. OH MY GOD! WHAT DO I DO?
"YN?" a voice with more authority in its tone, as if demanding to know why she is not responding.
Amidst the accelerated beats and the pressure in her ears, she hears him take a step on the stairs and terrified she tries to hide it.
"N-no!… ah…. I'm looking… for my perfume." She tries to hide it by stretching to open and close the drawer next to the bed, pretending to be looking.
“Don’t be long, my love, I already miss you <3” he hums in a sweet and passionate tone as he returns to the kitchen.
Quick.
Action plan. Quick. I need help.
YN: Okay, what do you mean by that? (message not sent)
YN: Who is this man then? What is he? (message not sent)
YN: I need to get out of here, please come and get me! (message not sent)
A shiver runs down the girl’s spine when the internet suddenly goes out, what could have happened to her? Will I have to deal with all this alone?
Oh my God…..
She runs a trembling hand through her wet hair trying to calm herself down with all this and for the first time in two weeks she hears the little voice inside her head, the one that said there was something strange with her boyfriend.
He doesn’t know that I know.
An advantage? Yes.
Disadvantage? Anything could be in his plans.
What is he using me for? Why is he pretending to be my boyfriend? Is he behind the real Kain's accident? What if I call the police? What if he wants to kill me while I'm sleeping? What if he poisons me…? Oh no.
YN's eyes widen at the possibility and an overwhelming anxiety takes over her body, her breath catching in her throat, her heart racing, sweat running down her forehead.
"Sweetheart, do you want me to escort the princess to her royal kitchen?" the voice of the aforementioned person is heard in the hallway, he is in the middle of the stairs humming "Have you found your perfume yet, love?"
A second passes.
And another.
"YN, are you okay?"
You need to get out of here. Quickly.
"…… y-yes…… I, I'm… coming down now, okay?" disguising it in a shaky voice, she slowly gets up from the bed and picks up the perfume on the headboard next to the bed, applying it with difficulty because the sweat on her hands made it slip.
She swallows the terrible urge to scream for help, to jump out the window, to tear her hair out, and takes robotic steps until she leaves the room, passing through the damn hallway like a sheep going to the slaughterhouse. At that moment, the various sweet air fresheners make her feel nauseous and her head spins. She rests one hand on the wall as she goes down the stairs, her eyes wide as she holds her breath.
Slowly she takes in the scene: The dining room looks like it came straight out of a romance movie, there are rose petals on the floor and candles in vintage candelabras on the table, in the middle of the table there is a beautiful decorated pink cake and at the entrance is the perfect boyfriend.
"May I have the honors, my princess?" He extends his hand in a chivalrous manner and YN, as an instinct of her body for having done this scene many times, gives him her hand.
Kain's eyes are full of devotion as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of YN's hand, looking her directly in the eyes during the act, the action takes seconds to finish.
“I’m glad you chose me. And as promised, you won’t regret it.” He takes her by the hand and gently pulls out the chair, waiting for his lady to sit down. YN is doing everything she can to not freak out, trying to act as normal as possible, trying to relax at any cost so he doesn’t notice.
“T-thanks for the… kindness, dear.” With a dry mouth she says.
He hums in return, “Oh, anything for you.”
YN can’t help but think that everything he says and does has a hidden meaning now, like a predator sadistically toying with his prey. The young man brings the cake closer so YN can appreciate the vitsa, which he spent the afternoon learning on YouTube how to decorate a cake with icing and create a romantic setting.
“Well…” he clears his throat “I hope you like it, it was my first time doing something like this and I really wanted you to like it.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while giving a charming smile
“Y-yes… yeah, it’s beautiful, love.”
YN forced a smile as she struggled to stay calm, trying not to show the chaos that was unfolding inside her. Her hands were still shaking as she watched Kain cut a piece of the cake and place it on a plate for her.
The strange man, still in the role of the perfect groom, decides to be more romantic and proposes to feed her, in a cute way. He asks YN to open her mouth while trying to make it seem like a sweet and loving scene.
"Open your mouth, honey. Let me give you a piece of cake. Say 'Aah~"
YN opens her mouth automatically, while her mind is still stuck on her boss's words. Her expression is almost absent, as she tries to maintain the facade of apparent calm in front of her boyfriend. Kain puts the piece of cake in YN's mouth and observes her face, thinking that her apparent passivity was a product of the romantic scene they were having. Meanwhile, YN could only think about finding a way to escape from there as quickly as possible.
With each bite, YN felt the fear increase even more, praying to any being in the heavens to save her, for someone to clean up this mess, for her to have the strength to stop him. A wave of ultra sensitivity hits her mind, a result of stress and anxiety, and she can't stop thinking that it's all too much… too much. The cake is too sweet, sickly sweet, the frosting is too pink, the cherries taste too much like cherries, the background music was a soundtrack from her favorite romantic movie making her hair stand on end to the point of pain, capturing every sound and vibration in constant alert, as if at any moment he would take out a knife and stab her.
While YN ate the piece of cake, her mind was still stuck in trying to find a way to escape that situation without giving herself away. She tried to act as normally as possible in front of the stranger in front of her, while her heart was pounding with anxiety and fear.
“Are you okay, love? You seem tense… isn't the cake good?” Kain asks, gently running a hand over YN's cheek and involuntarily she pulls away.
Kain's eyes widen and a twinge of sadness passes through his blue eyes.
YN regrets that.
“S-sorry, love… I'm just tired from work.” YN tries to act as normal as possible but he can almost see through her that there is something bothering her, or to be more exact, he can see through the neckline of her dress that the beautiful woman's heart is abnormally racing.
“But… but the cake is delicious!” To prove the point, she herself picks up the fork and takes a piece of cake to her mouth, holding back the urge to vomit. “Beginner's luck, maybe?” she laughs and teases him a little.
Act normal, woman. Act normal or he'll notice.
“Who knows?” He smiles at her, not understanding what happened but decides to save this subject for later to enjoy the romantic dinner
“I've always been lucky on my first times…” he winks at her
“O-Oh…” YN laughs embarrassedly, not hiding the blush that rises on her cheeks
Dinner soon ends, YN comments a few things about work while Kain gives details of how his day was and in the end they go to watch a movie on the couch cuddling wrapped in soft and warm blankets. YN who was previously so interested in the cinematography of films, obsessively observing each character and each angle now doesn't even know the name of the film or what genre it is.
Would it be horror like a terrible joke of the storm inside herself? Would it be a romantic movie to continue this psychotic game of house?
All she can think is that now is the perfect time to run away.
Now that Kain is sleeping so soundly in her arms with a contented smile.
The clock strikes midnight and with a little trick she manages to leave without waking him, making her steps as light as a feather as she walks to the door, the only source of light being the TV playing scenes from the movie.
Her heart was beating strongly in her veins, she could hear her own heartbeats in her ear as she took a deep breath until she reached the door she had dreamed of, the exit to salvation.
As soon as she puts her cold hand on the doorknob, a brutal realization hits her in the face, she doesn't have her cell phone… and she doesn't know where it is.
With a sharp gulp she decides to go without it because this might be her only chance of survival, she tightly holds the motorcycle keys and opens the door.
"Where are you going at this time of night, sweetheart?" the creature's voice was like a roar held back by teeth, Kain's figure was on the other side of the door making her blood run cold immediately, YN's cell phone was in his big hand with the messages with her boss open.
His figure towers over her trembling form, his head twisting in an inhuman manner, watching YN intently, a horrifying smile on his lips.
For the first time in two weeks, YN smells a repulsive, rotten smell.
A scream is heard.
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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Every like, repost and comment is very welcome and appreciated. ♥
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earthtooz · 1 year
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fluff with a lot of angst, reader is injured and in hospital for one scene but it's not graphic, lovesick!bakugou
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during the many years you’ve loved bakugou katsuki, you have only seen him cry three times.
the first time, you were alarmed. where you fell asleep on the couch awaiting your boyfriend’s return, you did not expect to wake up to the sound of sniffles and the sight of drying tears.
“katsuki? what’s the matter?” you asked cautiously, immediately sitting up to wipe his tears away.
your touch, like a healing balm to the blond, lets you treat him like glass when both of you know he is nothing akin to fragile.
“‘s nothin’,” he gruffly huffs, voice cracking a little.
“if you say so,” you murmur skeptically, knowing better than to prod when it’s bakugou involved.
“were ya waitin’ for me?”
you nod. “i thought we could eat together but- what time is it?”
“almost nine.”
“oh. i thought we could eat dinner together but your patrol must have ended a lot later.”
his heart aches pitifully, worsening when he watches you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to come home so late.”
“it’s okay, i get it.”
“we can still eat together, if that’s okay,” he grumbles, looking away bashfully and missing the way your face brightens.
“that sounds lovely, i’ll go heat up dinner-“
“-no, i’ll do it. it’s my fault for coming home later, i’ll call you when it's done.”
bakugou is out of your sight before you can argue any further. as you watch your boyfriend disappear, you’re left pondering on the couch as to why he was acting so uncharacteristically. did he have a bad day? did something happen at work? was he unable to save someone? that’s can't be the reason, he always-
“dinner’s done!” your boyfriend calls from the kitchen, disrupting your thoughts.
when you asked, it didn't sound like he had a terrible day, in fact it sounds like he had a successful patrol, but you cannot fathom any other reason for his melancholy, but if he’s forgotten about it, then you will too.
but... bakugou doesn’t forget. he still remembers when midoriya first alluded to the inheritance of his quirk from all might, he remembers the night vision goggles kirishima broke when trying to save him that one time, he remembers your favourite things and what makes you happy; he remembers everything.
and he’ll never forget that the tears he shed tonight were over the fact that bakugou will never get to show you how much he loves you.
bakugou katsuki, for the first time, realised just how painfully human he is.
he has a heart that beats for you, limbs that longingly ache to be near you whenever he’s not, a mind devoted to you and a cursed mouth so incapable of expressing it all.
if he could, he would wrestle the night sky to give its stars to you instead because you love stars. you love the stupid things in life that bakugou can't give. he can’t give you everything you could ever want and with that realisation, bakugou discovered just how beatable he was.
you may never know the multitude of bakugou’s love for you, and that fact alone brings him to tears as he gazed upon your sleeping figure on the couch, resting peacefully until his arrival.
the second time, you wake up confused.
the lights in the room are dim, there's a machine beeping intermittently and you think it's a heartbeat monitor but you don't really think too hard about it because your body hurts.
you have to blink a few times to get the blurriness out of your eyes, but you eventually comprehend the sterile walls of a hospital room. then the memories come back one by one, a patrol gone awry, evacuating citizens and... ah, being slammed into a wall back-first by the villain. explains the pain.
then you register the looming figure beside your bed, a pair of widened vermillion eyes gazing into your own with untameable blond hair to match, you can't help the smile from spreading on your face when you see your lover.
"hey," you cough weakly, throat dry and scratchy from lack of use.
next thing you know, bakugou's bulky figure is draped over yours, forehead resting on your chest as his arms gently snake around your torso, bringing you into his chest and pressing himself firmly against you.
you feel him; his relief, his sorrow, his devotion, his painful sobs as he shakes against you and it kills you that the only thing you have the strength to do is run a hand through his hair. you want to kiss him, to tell him that it's okay and that there's nothing to cry about, that you're here and nothing will change that, but you're so very sore and barely in tact.
"don't do this shit again," he threatens weakly and you feel his tears seep through your hospital gown. "you had me so fuckin' worried, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, i can't believe you'd do this to me, do you know how much it sucked to be without you?"
"sorry, katsuki," you whisper and he looks up at you, glossy eyes and quivering lip.
"promise me you'll never do this again."
cupping his cheeks with your hands, there's a rush of deja vu as your thumbs catch his tears. "i don't know how realistic that promise is given that this is my job-"
"-your job is to save lives, not go crashin' into buildings, idiot."
you laugh gently, a stabbing pain making itself known in your gut when you do. your wince doesn't go unnoticed by bakugou, who knows you better than the back of his hand and his heart lurches at the slightest evidence that you're in pain. "still, i won't make promises i can't keep, you know how our jobs are, katsuki."
he frowns, furrowing his brows. "then i'll promise to always be there for you. don't go where i can't."
"that's not realistic."
"watch me."
"okay then, deal."
there are questions you still want answers to, but for now, you'll let the blond continue crying with his ear pressed against your chest.
(you won't ever know about the few days bakugou has spent in your hospital ward, absolutely miserable as he looks upon your gaze with anticipation. he hates how helpless he is, that he can't do anything to rid of this horrible feeling in his chest but wait for you to wake up. he hates that he can't any semblance of peace, he hates the man that love has made him, but most importantly, he hates being without you.
you won't ever know the struggle it was to get bakugou out of your room for even just an hour. midoriya and kirishima had to wrestle him in hopes of getting some proper food together, and yaomomo and todoroki had to literally block the door with various items to prevent his entrance.
you won't ever know how alienated bakugou felt, unable to face your shared home without you in it. without your music playing, without your shoes messily thrown at the genkan, without your comforting presence to return to when all is said and done, there isn't much of a home for bakugou.
you won't ever know how desperately bakugou clung to your hand, fiddling with it whenever he needed a safe haven.
you won't ever know the amount of tears the blond had shed by your side, hunched over your bed, with nothing and no one to comfort him but the sound of the heartbeat monitor.)
the third time, you cry too.
it's your wedding day.
when the news first came out, japan practically roared with excitement and anticipation for the special day that their two favourite heroes would wed. the enthusiasm has not dimmed down even months later, and now, as you're one door away from your lover, you feel it buzzing in your bones.
it all goes by in a blur. one second you're about to trip over yourself in nervousness and the next, you're walking down the aisle with a stunned bakugou failing to keep his composure at the altar. despite the amount of close friends and family around you, all you can see is the love of your life who looks at you with unmatched adoration and affection in those ruby irises of his.
up close, however, all you can see are the tears forming in his eyes, and his first sniffle takes everyone in the room by surprise. no doubt, this is their first and last time seeing their beloved hero cry.
more tears are shed and then, it's just waterworks from practically everyone in the room as bakugou breaks down even more.
thank goodness for a private wedding because you know he is never going to live it down if the press got their hands on this image.
a close friend of yours hands you a handkerchief and you wipe away bakugou's tears with a teasing smile, unable to keep your wobbly laughter at bay as your lover- japan's symbol of victory and heroism, turns to nothing but putty in your hands. he lets you treat him so delicately because you've seen him at his lowest, most shaken, and most unlovable, yet still decided to stay.
"sorry," he apologises as you dab at his tears, words reserved for you and you alone. "you're just so... divine. i can't believe i'm marryin' you."
you feel your first tear roll down your cheek and bakugou catches it before it can go too far, wiping it away.
"such an embarrassin' way to start our wedding," he grumbles.
"embarrassing for the both of us, but memorable no doubt," you try to reason.
"everything is memorable as long as i'm with you."
"such a sap," you whack his shoulder lightly. "have you been saving that line for today specifically?"
"you should wait til the vows. bet mine are better than yours."
"i didn't know you could be a poet."
"only for you."
"well then, i can't wait to find out what else you are, katsuki."
"i'll always be yours."
you laugh, "i'm glad to hear that 'cause i love you."
"i love you even more, i'm crying just to prove it."
"your tears are dangerous."
"yeah well, you're marryin' these tears so."
"like i said, i can't wait."
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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bluerosefox · 5 months
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Gray and Graysons
One of the Bats has a secret. Something they never told to the others.
They were so very young but they have memories of a sibling, so small and tiny. They remember the burst of warmth they had in their heart when they held the tiny baby for just a moment.
But they weren’t allowed to keep them, their family couldn’t raise them. Money was tight, just enough for three but not for four, despite their shows always bringing in a crowd it was getting harder and harder for the world to be wowed by them in the new age and their sibling was too small and tiny and needed to be cared in a single place than for them to be on the road. Their lifestyle was not good for his tiny sibling apparently.
They had to watch as their parents gave his sibling away to people in suits, them promising to give his baby brother to a loving family when they find a ‘home’ for him. He watched his parents try to be strong only for his mother to break down once the car left down the road, his father holding her and apologizing, the rest of the circus troupe all silently coming over to give the heartbroken family condolences.
Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson had tears running down his face when he last saw his baby brother.
A brother he got to name before he had to be given away.
Daniel ‘Danny’ Grayson.
-x-x-
Dick never told the others. If anyone dug deep into his past they might find his brother’s birth records maybe, if someone got around to digitizing the paperwork for him but given the fact he was placed in the US childcare systems just a few days after his birth and the fact that Dick was still pretty young they most likely believed he didn’t remember his baby brother now. Not after so many years.
But they were wrong, Dick remembers. And he kept the secret close to his heart and memories.
And the only physical evidence he had was a single picture of him holding his brother, a smile on his tiny face towards their father who had taken the photo of them together. When he had lost his parents, lost most of the things that connected him to them, to his past in the circus that had been his whole life, had been taken from him in Gotham’s ruthless childcare system, he held on tight to the picture in secret. Hid it away from anyone trying to rip it from him, hid it from Bruce when the man took him in days later, hid it from Alfred despite how gentle the butler was towards him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t risk losing his photo at the time, he hadn’t trusted anyone and by the time he did he didn’t have the heart to reveal it.
So yes, the existence of his baby brother Danny was his most guarded and best kept secret.
So that’s why Dick, as Nightwing, nearly died from a heart attack when leaving a Justice League meeting he spotted a familiar face among one of the new engineers working in the Watchtower.
It was like seeing a young version of himself. Only, Dick could see that the young man was more than a copy of him, so much more than a clone. He held many traces of John Grayson but also had a bit more of Mary Grayson than Dick did. Small details that Dick foggely remembers taking note when he had held his baby brother.
“Hey, hurry up with that report Gray!” Shouted the head engineer from down the hall, his hand beckoning the young adult to come over.
“Coming! And boss, I told you Danny is fine!” Danny shouted back before hurriedly leaving a stunned Nightwing.
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nathaslosthershit · 7 months
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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)
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(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.
“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.
‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.
“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”
“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”
“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”
“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time. 
“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”
“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.
“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.
“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”
“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.
“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”
“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”
“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”
“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”
“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”
“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”
“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.
“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”
“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”
The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family. 
Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.
Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.
“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.
“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?” 
In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.
Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.
2K notes · View notes
imaginaryf1shots · 2 months
Text
You’re Mine | Charles Leclerc
WC: 6K
Possessive!Charles x Innocent!reader
Summery: You’re Arthur’s childhood BFF, you’ve been around the Leclerc for years before you had to move away. But now you’re back for a few months, not knowing that you’re here to stay.
Warning: Manipulation, jealousy, toxic relationships, more things to come.
AN: Honestly I have no idea what I feel a bout this, I’m not 100% satisfied. I may delete it later. my fist attempt at a dark fic.
Also, this was requested a very long time ago, I lost the request, though.
Masterlist
Charles Masterlist
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Growing up in Monaco, you went to the same school as Arthur Leclerc. Arthur, with his messy brown hair and infectious laughter, was your closest friend. Your friendship began in a playground and quickly formed an unbreakable bond. You’d always race your bikes down narrow lanes, building sandcastles on Larvotto beach, or exploring the markets with insatiable curiosity. You two were inseparable.
Your families met because of your bond, and they formed their own friendships. It was due to the closeness that your families formed that you got to meet his brothers.
You saw Charles and Arthur karting, and you;d go with them from time to time, but while they were competitive and wanted to do it for life, you just wanted to join them and have fun. One of the reasons you and Arthur got so close is because you got into what the other liked and had fun while doing it.
Yet, in the background of your friendship with Arthur was your crush on his older brother, Charles. Charles is older by a few years and carried an air of confidence that captivated your young heart. He always seemed so cool, had that unattainable air around him, his striking looks and natural charm didn’t help. He was the epitome of everything you admired, but to him you were just his little brother’s friend, a mere child.
Charles has always been so sweet with you, and no matter how much time passed the blush that always graced your cheeks around him always stayed, it was permanent whenever he was in the same room as you.
You remember vividly the simmer afternoons spent at the Leclerc household. Arthur would always drag you along to play video games or just spend time together, while Charles, often busy with his racing aspirations, would give you a smile. Those moments, however brief and meaningless in the scheme of things, fouled your childish infatuation. You watched him from a distance, never expecting to actually catch his attention one day.
You thought you were discreet with your crush, but once you’re out of earshot, the adults would always joke about it, your mums dreaming of being one family one day and planning the wedding. It amused them to see how much you hung on every world Charles said and looked at him as if he was an angel, and how oblivious Charles was.
You remember the day your world turned upside down very well, it’s etched in your memory. Your father announced out of the blue, “We’re relocating to New York.” He said, excitement in his voice. The news felt like a punch to the gut. You were only twelve, but the thought of leaving Arthur and your familiar world behind was devastating.
“We’ll stay in touch, promise?” Arthur, who was equally crushed by news said his voice was shaky but he was determined. You both exchanged trinkets as tokens of your friendship. A bracelet from you and a racing car from him.
“Always.” You replied, tears brimming your eyes.
The move was a whirlwind, and soon you found yourself in the concrete jungle of New York City, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of Monaco. Despite the distance, you and Arthur remained in touch. Long phone calls, video chats, and countless messages kept your friendship alive. You shared your experiences, your struggles, and your triumphs, growing up together despite the miles between you.
Years passed, and your infatuation with Charles dimmed to a fond memory as you immerse yourself in your new life. But as you matured, you often wondered how different things might have been if you had stayed in Monaco. The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a faint but persistent echo of your childhood dreams.
Now, at twenty-one, you stood at a crossroads, ready to reconnect with the past. The opportunity to return to Europe for a summer was too enticing to pass up. Once Arthur heard about it he was ecstatic at the prospect of you two meeting again, and plans were quickly made for your grand reunion. The anticipation of seeing him again, of revisiting the places that shaped your childhood, filled you with excitement and a touch of nostalgia.
Little did you know, this trip would be more than just a walk down memory lane. It would be a journey that would intertwine your fate with Charles once more, in ways you could never have imagined.
The plane descended towards the Côte d'Azur Airport, and as you gazed out the window, your heart raced with anticipation. The Mediterranean's blue expanse sparkled below, the coastline of Monaco coming into view. It had been a decade since you'd seen these familiar sights, but they felt like a distant yet vivid memory.
After clearing customs, you wheeled your suitcase through the bustling terminal. Your excitement was palpable, mingled with the nervousness of reuniting with a childhood friend after so long. Would Arthur have changed much? Would your bond still be as strong? It has been the same online but, being face to face could be different.
Stepping out into the arrivals area, you scanned the crowd. And there he was, Arthur Leclerc, standing tall with that same mischievous grin you remembered. His hair was a bit shorter, his features more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. A spark that video class couldn’t carry.
“Y/N!” Arthur called out, his voice filled with joy. You waved back, and in moments, you were enveloped in a tight hug.
"Arthur! It's so good to see you." You said, pulling back to take in his appearance. “You’re so tall now.”
"It’s good to see you! You look amazing." He replied, his eyes shining with genuine warmth. "I can't believe it's been ten years, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too.” You say tearing up, Arthur’s eyes get glossy as well, and you’re hugging once again, this time you stay in each other’s arms for a bit longer.
“Come on, let's get you out of here and catch up." Arthur says after you pull back, he takes your bags and heads to his car.
The drive from the airport to Monaco was filled with laughter and stories, both of you eager to fill in the gaps of the years apart, things that haven’t been said on calls. Arthur had grown into a confident young man, his passion for racing more intense than ever. You shared your adventures in New York, the highs and lows, and the dreamlike quality of returning to Europe.
As you arrived in Monaco, a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The narrow streets, the bustling harbour, the luxurious buildings. It was all like you remembered, yet with a sense of newness. Arthur drove you to his family's home, where you'd be staying.
Stepping inside, you were hit with memories of your childhood. The familiar scent of the house, the photos on the walls, it was like stepping back in time. Arthur took your bags to a room in a house, before you followed him.
“Y/N!” A delighted voice came from the kitchen as you walked in. Pascale Leclerc, Arthur’s mother, emerged with a warm smile. She looked hardly changed, still radiating the same kindness and elegance you remembered.
“Mama Pascale!” you exclaimed, rushing to hug her.
“It’s been too long, mon ange” She said, hugging you tightly. “Look at you! All grown up and even more beautiful.”
You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. It feels like coming home.”
“We’ve missed you around here. Arthur has talked non-stop about your visit.” Pascale’s eyes twinkled.
Arthur rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, she’s finally here. And I’ve got big plans to show her around.”
“I’m sure you do. But first, let’s get you settled in.” Pascale laughed. Arthur led you to your room.
“You’ll be staying in Charles’s old room.” He said, opening the door. “He moved out a while ago, but we’ve kept it nice for guests.”
The room was spacious and neatly arranged, with a large window offering a stunning view of the city below. It felt both strange and intimate to be staying in Charles’s old room, surrounded by remnants of his past, trophies, posters, and photos of his racing career.
“Wow.” You said, looking around. “This is amazing.”
Arthur grinned. “Glad you like it. Make yourself at home. We’ve got dinner in a bit, and then I’ll show you around the house.”
After freshening up, you joined the Leclerc family for dinner, minus Charles and Enzo who were out of Monaco for a race. The meal was filled with laughter and stories, and you felt a warmth that you’d missed in New York. Pascale’s cooking was as delicious as you remembered, and the conversation flowed easily, with Arthur and his mother making you feel like you’d never left.
Later, Arthur gave you a tour of the house. As you walked through the house, memories flooded back, each room telling a story of your shared past. You spent the first week catching up, going to your favourite sports when you were young, going into Nice, meeting his friends and having the time of your lives.
"Guess what?" Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye as you joined him in the living room, one afternoon. "I've got a surprise for you."
"A surprise?" You echoed, curious.
“Charles got us tickets for the Spain race next weekend.”
“Race?” Your heart skipped a beat. “That sounds incredible, thank you Arthur.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Charles when we see him.” Arthur shrugged off your gratitude.
”I will.” You say softly, a hint of nervousness hits you.
That evening, you and Arthur walked along the promenade, reminiscing about old times. The city was alive with activity, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging, a feeling you'd missed more than you realised, making you want to move back here and not return to New York after the summer.
You flew to Spain with Arthur, it was like going on a trip with your best friend after speaking about it for years, the trip made it out of the chat. You made it for qualifying day, you dressed casually, but delicately. Your style is very feminine, yet stylish, and you weren’t afraid to show some skin here and there.
You followed Arthur through the vibrant energy of the race circuit. The roar of engines, the cheers of the crowd, it was electrifying. Arthur was in his element, greeting fellow racers and team members with ease.
As you walked through the paddock, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Turning, you met the gaze of the one and only Charles Leclerc. He was standing with his team, his attention focused entirely on you. Time seemed to freeze. The boy you once had a crush on was now a strikingly handsome man, exuding charisma and confidence.
Charles hadn’t looked you up on social media so he had no idea how you looked after 10 years. Yet, he had no doubt in his mind that the female Arthur was walking with is you. His eyes ran over your cream sundress with small flowers on it, the straps were thin and there was a slit up your thigh. With every step Charles could see your leg peaking through.
Charles approached, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Arthur, who's this?” He asked, though his gaze suggested he already knew.
”Y/n, you remember her from school, she moved to New York.” Arthur grinned.
"Of course, Y/N. You've...changed a lot." He said, his voice heavy, thick.
“Well, I’m not eleven anymore.” You say with a sweet smile.
”Clearly.” Charles says under his breath, you’re more beautiful up close. “Welcome back.”
”Thanks, Charlie, it’s good to be back.” Your heart fluttered, the old nickname slipping so easily from your lips. Charles had to swallow and force a smile, it’s been seconds since he saw you again, and you already have some type of effect on him.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. You watched the quali with Arthur, cheering loudly as cars zoomed by, the drivers skillfully navigating the track. It was exhilarating, a stark reminder of the world you'd once been so close to. Charles qualified P2. You weren’t able to see him for the rest of the day, due to briefing, and strategy meetings.
The next day during a break, Arthur introduced you to some of his friends, including a few drivers. You chatted amiably, feeling the warmth of their welcome. But all the while, you were acutely aware of Charles' presence. His gaze followed you, filled with something more intense.
At one point, you found yourself alone with him in the team’s hospitality area. Charles leaned against the table, his eyes locked onto yours.
"So, what do you think of everything so far?" He asked, his voice smooth.
"It's amazing." You replied, trying to steady your nerves. "I've missed this energy."
"I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s good to see you again, Y/N. You’ve grown up." He smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a shiver down your spine. The way he said it, made your heart race. There was a hint of something possessive in his tone, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it is.
"Thank you, Charles. You’ve...changed too."
”Here give me your phone, so I can put my number in.” Charles held out his hand and you gave him your phone. Charles quickly punched in his phone number and saved it. You were distracted by some shouting some people were doing and didn’t see what he was doing, giving Charles the perfect opportunity to send himself your live location and delete it from your chat. “Here you go.”
”Great.” Before you could delve deeper into the conversation, Arthur returned.
"Ready to head back?" He asked, looking between you and Charles with a knowing smile.
"Yeah, let's go." You said, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.
Back in Monaco the days flew by in a whirlwind of races, dinners, and nostalgic explorations with Arthur. Yet, no matter where you went, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Charles’ eyes on you. Always watching you.
Charles would appear at the cafe where you and Arthur were having lunch, or join you for a spontaneous outing. His attention felt flattering, a validation of the childhood crush you’d once harboured.
One afternoon, you were walking around Monaco, before you had to meet Arthur after his appointment. While you were walking Charles found you and took the liberty to stay with you. Charles suggested a walk along the harbour, and you agreed, enjoying the idea of catching up with him.
As you strolled along the waterfront, Charles’ hand brushed against yours. The first time you deemed it an accident, but as it kept happening, that childish blush you used to have in his presence reappeared.
“You know.” He began, his voice low and serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you since you came back.”
”Really?” You looked up at him, surprised by his tone.
”Yes.” He said, his eyes darkening slightly, but he gave you a slight smile to cover up his inner thoughts from showing. “I can’t help but feel protective of you, you’ve grown up so much, and… well, I don’t like the idea of you being here alone, so just whenever Arthur is busy just call me, yeah?”
”Yeah, I will.” You continued walking with Charles, when a store caught your eyes. "Charlie, can we go into that store?"
“Of course.” You and Charles head into the boutique. Charles places his hand on your back as he guides you in the shop. Your cheeks flushed, you thought he'd remove his hand once you're inside the shop but his hands stayed there. Charles followed you around the shop as you looked at all the trinkets, a vintage jewellery box gaining your attention.
“Charlie, look, isn't it cute?” You pick up the box and open it, turning to show the man behind you, Charles's hand stays on you, but it moves from your back to your waist.
“It's very cute.” You look up only to see him looking at you, you bite your bottom lip to stop the smile from forming on your face, Charles' eyes fall onto your lips before they go back to your eyes. You turn back around and look through the shelves, smiling to yourself now that he couldn't see your face. Or so you thought, Charles caught your smile in one of the mirrors on the shelf. He was happy that he made you smile, your smile is so sweet he wants it all to himself. After a bit of browsing you end up with a couple things that you liked. The guy at the till smiles at you, Charles' jaw clenches. Charles' hands drop from your back to his pocket he takes out his card and hands it
to the guy.
“Charliee, I can pay.” You whine and try to give the guy your card, but Charles takes your hand in his and drops it.
“You're never paying when I'm with you, amour.” You pout but put your card back in your small bag you carried with you, trying not to over think the pet name he called you. Charles takes the bag from the cashier and you both head out, this time Charles' arm is around your shoulder. You're walking closer to each other now. Closer than before for sure.
“Thank you.” You tell him after a moment of silence, you look up at him and his face is much closer to yours now with his arm around your shoulder. “F-for buying me this, and-and for keeping me company with Arthur being busy.”
“Any time, whenever Arthur is busy just call me I'll always keep you company.” Charles says with a charming smile, reiterating what he said earlier. “Even if you want to take a break from him just tell me."
“I will.” You say with a giggle.
It was another race week and you're invited, Arthur was with his friends in F2, and so you decided to stick with Charles for most of the day. He introduced you to Rebecca and so you sat with her for lunch before KiKa also joined you and soon also Lily came. The girls were super polite they didn't ask you what your relationship with Charles, they all went through fazes of wanting to keep their relationship private, and
not confirming anything. Charles knew what he was doing, he was walking through the paddock to go from one place to the other when he saw the female gathering, he walked up behind you placing his hand on your shoulder. You look up startled before smiling when you see Charles, he greets the ladies. He leans to whisper in your ear.
“Do you need anything?”
“No thank you, don't worry about me.”
“Hard not to.: He says before he gives everyone one last smile and he leaves. The girls all share knowing looks, but keep their thoughts to themselves. It's been a while since Charles has been in a relationship, but they can see the signs.
When Charles finished his duties and heads back to where you are, he stops dead in his tracks. You're talking with Lando, smiling at what he's saying.
"Come on, mate, it's just Lando." Carlos who was walking with his teammate said seeing the look on Charles' face. He's not happy, at all. Why is Lando talking to you? Didn't he know you're with him? What could he be saying that's so funny? Lando isn't that funny. Charles walks up to you and places his hand around your shoulder, Leaving Carlos to go talk to his own girlfriend.
"Hey, I see you met y/n." Charles says with a cold smile.
"Yeah, I was telling her about Quadrent." Lando said, he picked up on Charles' demeanour and it left him confused, Charles is always kind, and easy going. He's never cold or standoffish.
"Why?" Charles asks and you look up at him confused.
"Charlie." You mumble softly, he glances down at you before his eyes settle back on Lando, who looked very uncomfortable at the moment like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "I asked him what he does when he's not racing."
"Hmm, okay, we have to go." Charles says and doesn't leave room for argument before he steers you away from the conversation and Lando.
"That was a bit rude." You mumble to Charles, he sighs and looks at you for a moment.
"I was just trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"Look, stay away from Lando, he was only talking to you because he wants to be with you." Charles tells you with so much assurance, like what he's saying is a fact.
"What? I don't think so." You frown, going over the conversation you just had with the British man, nothing standing out to you.
"Amour, I know Lando, believe me when I say he had anterior motives." You weren't 100% convinced, Charles stopped and turned you to face him, his hands on your shoulders. "Who knows Lando better?" He asked you.
"You do."
"Who knows his history with women?"
"You do.”
"Then believe me, when I say him talking with you wasn't innocent." You nod, believing him. I mean why would he lie to you? There's no reason for him to do that. You trust Charles.
The sun dipped low over Monaco, casting a warm golden glow across the city. You were sitting with Arthur at a cosy café near the harbour, sipping on an iced coffee and catching up on the latest gossip. Arthur was recounting a particularly amusing story from the paddock when you felt a familiar presence approaching.
Charles strolled up to your table, his smile bright and confident. "Hey, Arthur. Y/N," he greeted, his eyes lingering on you. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all, pull up a chair." Arthur waved him over.
As Charles sat down, you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze seemed to drink you in. It was intense but not entirely uncomfortable. You smiled shyly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.
"So, Y/N." Charles began, leaning forward slightly, "I've been thinking. You've been back in Monaco for a while now, and I haven't really had the chance to take you out properly."
"Oh?" Your heart skipped a beat, is this really happening?
Arthur grinned, sensing what was coming. "Sounds like someone has an idea."
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me this weekend.” Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just the two of us. I want to show you around, maybe take you to a nice dinner. What do you say?"
You felt your cheeks flush with excitement. The boy you had once idolized was now a man, standing before you and asking you out on a date. The crush you thought you'd outgrown resurfaced, stronger than ever. You bit your lip, trying to contain your giddiness.
"I'd love to." You replied, your voice almost a whisper.
Charles' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven?"
"Seven it is." You agreed, your heart fluttering.
Arthur chuckled, giving you a playful nudge. "Looks like you have a date."
”Shut up.” You say under your breath fighting the blush that was a permanent fixture on your face. Arthur laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at you.
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of conversation and laughter, but you couldn't shake the excitement bubbling inside you. Charles' invitation had lit a spark in you, one that had been dormant for years. You felt a renewed sense of anticipation, eager to see where this evening would lead.
When the weekend arrived, you found yourself nervously preparing for the date. You chose a dress that was elegant yet understated, wanting to strike the perfect balance. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn't help but smile at your reflection. This was it, the night you had been waiting for.
Right on time, Charles arrived at the Leclerc home, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit. He greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes filled with admiration.
"You look stunning." He said, offering his arm.
"Thank you." You replied, feeling the blush return to your cheeks.
As you walked to his Ferrari, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The car roared to life, and soon you were speeding through the streets of Monaco, the city's lights twinkling around you. Charles drove with ease, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile.
He took you to a luxurious restaurant perched on a hill, offering breathtaking views of the city below. The maître d' greeted Charles warmly, leading you to a private table by the window. The ambiance was perfect, soft music, candlelight, and a stunning vista.
Throughout dinner, Charles was the perfect gentleman. He asked about your life in New York, genuinely interested in your stories. You talked about your friends, and the adventures you'd had. In turn, he shared his experiences on the racing tracks, the highs and lows of his career. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
After dinner, Charles suggested a walk along the harbour. The cool night air was refreshing, and the city seemed to glow under the moonlight. As you strolled side by side, you felt a sense of contentment, like everything was falling into place.
Charles stopped by the edge of the water, turning to face you. "I've really enjoyed tonight," he said softly. "It's been wonderful getting to know you again, Y/N."
"I've enjoyed it too." You replied, your heart racing.
"I hope we can do this again. Soon." He took your hand, his touch gentle but firm.
“I'd like that, Charles." You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness.
As he walked you back to his car, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging. Charles opened the door for you, and as you slid into the seat, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special.
The drive back to the Leclerc home was quiet, filled with comfortable silence. When you arrived, Charles walked you to the door, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.
"Goodnight, Y/N." He said, his voice filled with promise.
"Goodnight, Charles." You replied, your heart full.
As you watched him drive away, you felt a sense of joy and anticipation. The night had been perfect, a dream come true. And as you lay in bed, replaying every moment, you couldn't help but smile.
Waking up the next day you open your phone and find your social media accounts which are private and full of follow requests and DM requests. You’re so confused, before you open Twitter and see pictures of you and Charles last night on a the date everywhere. You groan and lean down in bed closing your eyes.
Charles is happy with himself, those paparazzi he leaked his date info to, did a good job, taking pictures in angles that made it look like you two were kissing at one point, and much closer than you were. Now everyone will know that you’re his. His plan is working, now what he has to do is get you to come stay at his house.
One evening you found yourself at a glamorous cocktail party, filled with drivers and Monaco's high society. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, leaving very little for the imagination. Many eyes looked your way when you passed. And of course, Charles was by your side, his arm firmly around your waist.
As you chatted with one of the drivers from F2, you felt Charles' grip tightening. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. The driver complimented your dress, and you laughed lightly, thanking him, a slight blush covering your face. A blush that has always been meant for Charles only. Before you could continue, Charles interrupted.
"y/n, can I speak with you for a moment?" He said, his voice strained but polite. You excused yourself, following Charles to a quitter corner.
"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing the tension in his posture. Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours, in an interlock that had you shivering.
"I don't like the way he was looking at you."
"He was just being friendly, Charlie, it's a party." You say looking up at him through your lashes, Charles just wants to pull you closer and crash his lips on you in a heated kiss.
His expression darkened further. "Friendly or not, I don’t want anyone looking at you like that."
The possessiveness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. "Charles, you’re overreacting. We’re just talking."
"I don’t care. You’re mine, Y/N.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. “And I won’t have anyone thinking otherwise."
You opened your mouth to protest, but the intensity in his eyes silenced you. It wasn’t just about protectiveness. There was a dark edge to his possessiveness, something you hadn’t seen before.
“Okay.” YOu agree meekly, Charles kisses your cheek right next to your lips, and smiles oh so sweetly at you, lacing your hands together.
“Come stay with me.” You look up at him, surprised with your eyes wide.
”What?”
“Come stay with me, I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to get back to Marnello.” He looks at you pleading. “Pretty please.”
”Alright, might give Arthur free time to hang out with his other friends.” You say convincing yourself that it’s a good idea, you look at your best friend and see him talking with a woman by the bar. “Or someone else.” You say with a giggle, Charles sees Arthur and smile. Good, if Arthur finds and lady friend then that would give him more time to spend with you, this sis going better than he expected.
You moved in with Charles, you had the spare room. Charles tired to convince you to stay with him, but you wanted things to go slow. But more often than not, you fell asleep on the sofa while watching something together and Charles would put you in bed with him.
Most nights will end with you sipping on a drink he makes for you, always insisting that he just wants to spoil you, after a while you’d start feeling exhausted, and fall asleep.
The next mornings, you’d usually wake up in his bed, with him laying next to you, the times you woke up after him, you’d see him awake and watching you with a deep in thought look on his face, the moment he notice you’re awake he’d smile and press a kiss to your forehead.
"Good morning.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Morning." You replied groggily, a strange sense of comfort washing over you.
You were browsing through a quaint boutique downtown. Charles had suggested you update your wardrobe, and you were eager to please him. As you moved between the racks of clothing, you found yourself drawn to a beautiful blue sundress. It was light, airy, it’s something you’d usually buy without a second thought.
You held the dress up to yourself, admiring it in the mirror. It was perfect for the warm weather and would look great with the sandals Charles had bought you last week. But as you stood there, a familiar uncertainty crept in. Would Charles like it? Would he think it was appropriate?
You pulled out your phone and took a quick photo of yourself holding the dress. Your fingers hovered over the send button as you debated whether to ask him. The decision felt simple enough, yet you couldn't shake the need for his approval.
Finally, you texted him: "What do you think of this dress? Should I get it?"
You waited anxiously, your heart pounding. Within a few moments, your phone buzzed with his response: "It's pretty, but I think the neckline is a bit too low. How about looking for something else?"
You sighed, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. Charles always knew what was best, you reminded yourself. You put the dress back on the rack and continued browsing, looking for something that fit his description of appropriate.
As you moved through the store, you picked up a simple white blouse and a pair of high-waisted jeans. They were nice, but they didn't make your heart sing like the sundress had. Still, you knew Charles would approve, and that was what mattered most.
Later that evening, you returned home with your purchases. Charles was waiting for you in the living room, his eyes lighting up as you walked in.
"Hey, how did the shopping go?" He asked, standing to greet you.
"It went well." You replied, holding up the blouse and jeans. "I found these. What do you think?"
He inspected the clothes, nodding with approval. "Good choices. They'll look great on you."
His praise filled you with warmth, and you felt a sense of accomplishment.
"Thanks. I'm glad you like them."
He pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. "I always want you to look your best. You know that, right?"
“I know. Thank you for helping me." You nodded, resting your head against his chest.
As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realised just how much you had come to rely on his guidance. Even for something as simple as picking out a dress, his opinion was the deciding factor. It was comforting, in a way, to know that he was always there to help you make the right choices.
Gradually, your independence faded. Charles' influence seeped into every aspect of your life. You stopped wearing the dresses you loved, opting for the ones he chose. You stopped going out with friends, preferring to stay home with him. Your world narrowed to the confines of his desires, and you didn't even realise it was happening.
Before making any decision, you looked to Charles, waiting for his approval. If he nodded, you felt reassured; if he frowned, you felt anxious. Your happiness hinged on his reactions, your self-worth tied to his validation.
Charles marked you in other ways, too. He began leaving hickeys on your neck, a visible sign of his possession. "I want everyone to know you're mine." He would whisper, his voice both tender and possessive.
You accepted it, feeling a strange sense of pride in his attention. The marks he left were a symbol of his love, and you wore them like badges of honour. When people asked, you smiled and brushed it off.
But it wasn't just protection. Charles' control over you deepened, his possessiveness consuming him. You found yourself agreeing to everything he asked, trusting his judgement over your own. He convinced you that he knew what was best for you, and you believed him.
Charles made sure you stayed close. He monitored your phone, controlled your social interactions, and kept you under his watchful eye. You didn't see it as manipulation; you saw it as love. He was protecting you, caring for you, making sure you were safe.
As the months passed, you lost sight of who you were outside of Charles. Your dreams, your desires, your sense of self, all became secondary to his needs and wishes. You became a shadow of your former self, a puppet dancing to his tune.
But you didn't see it. You were blind to the darkness that had enveloped your life, the possessiveness that had taken root in Charles' heart. You were happy, in a way, content in the illusion of love and security he had created.
Charles had what he wanted: you, completely and utterly his. And you, in your innocence and naivety, believed it was exactly where you were meant to be.
Taglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .
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watchmegetobsessed · 6 months
Text
OLD GRUDGES (part 1)
A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.
Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 
And that person is music producer, Y/N. 
The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 
Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 
Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.
“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”
Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.
It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.
She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.
“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.
But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 
He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.
Return what he was getting. 
Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.
And going against each other became their thing. 
They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.
“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.
Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 
“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”
“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 
She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.
Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 
Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.
“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 
He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 
His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 
An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 
Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.
“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”
Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…
Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 
“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 
When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…
“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.
“You weren’t here when I went out.”
“But you knew I was coming.”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.
It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.
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It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.
He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 
That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.
Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 
Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.
“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.
She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 
He has to fight the urge to touch her.
Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.
Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.
Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 
“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 
“Hey. Long time no see.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 
Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?
“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 
“You sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.
“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”
“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 
He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 
Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 
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The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.
Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 
He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 
The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 
Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 
From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.
Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 
She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.
As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 
“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 
They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.
“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.
“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.
“Have you tried to put it down fully?”
“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 
“What?”
“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”
“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”
She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.
It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 
“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.
“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”
“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 
“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”
She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.
But then it all changes.
If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 
Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 
He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 
Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 
It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 
The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 
They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.
“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.
He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 
“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.
“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”
Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”
“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 
This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.
A stupid, giant one. 
NEXT PART
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2K notes · View notes
Text
Thinking of Steve with PTSD from the torture in Starcourt. (TW: explicit memories physical torture)
Steve, who wakes up feeling hands punch him. Steve, who sometimes gets his fingers caught on knots in his hair, tugs at them accidentally, and suddenly feels the needle against his neck again. Steve, who can't remember the last time it didn't feel like someone was touching him, even when there's no one there.
During the day, it's not so bad. It whispers over his skin, but sometimes it's like it goes completely silent, drowned by the chaos of the kids or Robin's antics. But nights, or any time he's alone in his house, are hard. His skin burns from being slapped, pinched, injected, and the walls waver and morph into the basement of Starcourt for hours.
Obviously, Robin get's it, she was there too, so the pair try to spend as much time as possible together. But on the night's she's working, or her parents force her in and Steve out, he struggles, avoiding his house like the plague.
It's on one of these nights he meets Eddie. Eddie, who's a little skeptical of him, but who saw his fall from grace, and can see the wild fear in Steve's eyes from a mile away. Eddie, who's always ready to adopt a stray sheep. Eddie, who's babbling brings him back to earth, even when he has no idea what he's on about. He learns Eddie's funny, and loud, and brings life to his sickeningly quiet home in a way no-one else can, and Eddie learns he's not a stuck-up bully of a jock, and it quickly becomes a routine for them to meet whenever Robin's busy. Overtime, Eddie learns Steve struggles because of what he went through in Starcourt, but not much else.
One night, he rocked up to Steve's for a movie night, and he can tell instantly it's a bad day. Steve looks haunted, there's no other word for it. He knows he's going to have to pull out the extra Munson Special to be able to get a real smile out of him tonight.
But it doesn't work. In fact, Steve just seems to be getting worse.
He keeps zoning out, knuckles wise where they grip his jeans, the sofa, anything. And not only is he shaking in general, he's also jolting. And... dodging. Like some invisible figure is hitting him.
Eddie's so worried, he actually stops talking, just watches for a little bit and. Steve doesn't notice. He just keeps breathing too fast. Keeps staring at some ghost in his past. Keeps flinching.
Saying Steve's name isn't enough to get his attention, so slowly, carefully, Eddie reaches for him, placing a hand on his arm, just lightly. But it's enough to make Steve reel back.
They're both apologising in seconds, Steve looking distraught as he assures Eddie it's fine, he's just being stupid, and Eddie saying he should have asked, it's no big deal. But Eddie doesn't miss the sheen in Steve's eyes as he nods, or the tremble to his lips.
He takes a deep breath. Asks, "Steve? what's going on?" Watches as Steve tenses impossibly more for one second. Two. Then crumbles.
"I- I can just f-feel- and-and it hurts, and I don't-"
"Okay, okay, what can I do?"
But Steve just whines, because he doesn't know, he just feels pain everywhere and he just needs to make it stop.
Cue Eddie wracking his brains, and asking where it hurts the worst. Cue Eddie asking if Steve trusts him (and of course he does). Cue Eddie talking Steve through what he's about to do. Cue Eddie gently reaching out to touch Steve's neck, rubbing his thumb over it gently, holding his breath as Steve goes rigid underneath his hand, only to let it out when a significant amount of the tension just bleeds out of him a few moments later.
Slowly, Eddie works his way around all the sore spots, murmuring soft assurances, gaining more confidence as Steve trembles less, breathes easier, and melts under his touch.
They end up with Steve's face buried in Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's arms around him firmly, but not tightly. And Steve doesn't have the words to explain why he needed this, what had caused this. But it doesn't matter. Because Eddie's got him.
From then on, Steve's always got someone to help him remember his body is his. Eddie doesn't hesitate to welcome Steve with a hug, run his hands over Steve's wrists, trail fingers over Steve's neck, or just wrap him up in a blanket and snuggle with him and watch a movie. It doesn't matter that Steve's not allowed to explain. He can piece enough together himself (and after Vecna, he learns anyway). It just matters that Steve is sleeping easier, and laughing more brightly. It just matters that Steve is his.
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mrsbarnesblog · 11 months
Text
my everything
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: The last thing that Bucky ever expected to see was the love of his life from the past trapped in one of the Hydra bunkers in the cryofreeze chamber. Yet here he was almost two days later, staring at your still unconscious body through the window at the medical wing, imagining the horror and disgust on your face when you found out that he was no longer the innocent and happy boy you knew before.
Word count: 6.8K
Warnings: angst and fluff, I fucked up original timeline so there is no civil war in here, bucky needs and gets a hug, you're bucky's gf from the 40's, cryofreeze, self hate talk, happy end.
Author's note: enjoy💘
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“Aren't you fucking tired of this?” Bucky growled as he burst into the common room where Sam, Steve, and Natasha were sitting. "If you set me up on another date, Wilson, I'll break your fucking wings."
Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Calm down, cyborg. Look at you, all angry and stressed out; you need to get laid! When was the last time you’ve been on a date?"
Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise as he glanced between his two friends.
"Sit down, Barnes." Nat nodded her head at the couch across from her. Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, as too many feelings were bubbling inside of him, but he obeyed and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now explain what happened.”
 "This idiot is trying to set me up again.” He said, nodding towards Sam. "And I told you I'm not interested."
 “But why? Don't you want to feel like back in the days and have some fun with pretty women? This Hydra shit clearly wasn’t good for you. You’re too tense and always mad. Go on a date, maybe you’ll find a good girl to spend some time with.” Sam genuinely wanted to help his friend, and he didn’t understand why Bucky was so mad about it.
The look on Bucky’s face was weird. Like he wanted to say something but, at the same time, didn’t want to share his thoughts. 
“Are you already dating someone?” Natasha leaned with her elbows on her knees and studied his face. There was definitely something that Bucky didn’t want to say.
Steve looked between the three of his friends, and when Nat asked Bucky a question, it was like a bulb turned on in his head.
 "Buck…" Bucky met Steve's eyes, holding eye contact for a few seconds, like they were talking about something that only they knew.
 “Hey!” Sam said, waving his hands. “What are you two doing? Do you know something, Rogers?”
 “Buck, is it because of her?” The blonde said it almost in a whisper. “You still remember, right?”
“Did you have a girlfriend before the war?” Natasha, as always, understood everything immediately, and it was funny to see how Sam’s mouth fell open in shock.
Bucky clenched and unclenched his hands in his lap, not sure if he should reveal the truth. He had kept it to himself for so long—ever since he escaped Hydra and the memories from the past started to flood his head. It was too painful to think about you. To think about the woman who was his whole life many years ago. He remembered everything, and now he sees you in his dreams almost every night. Sometimes in nightmares, sometimes in the good ones, about the life that you two would’ve had if he hadn’t gone to war.
“What the hell are you hiding from us?” Sam shouted again, trying to get attention.
 “I…” Bucky frowns, staring at his hands. “I had a girlfriend... before the army, before the Hydra.” He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Just the thought of you hurt him, making him regret everything. That he left, that he didn’t marry you, and that the universe had this shitty plan.
 “And that’s why you don’t want to go out with someone?” Come on, man, how long has it been?  80 years? Get over it. It must have been another one of your girlfriends that you hooked up with when you were young.” He chuckled, looking between his friends, none of whom seemed happy with his choice of words.
 "Sam, don't—"
“You sound like an asshole.” 
 “Get over it?” Bucky didn’t let Steve or Nat finish their sentences before he barked at Sam, looking even more angry than before. “Just another one of my girlfriends? Do you have any idea what the fuck you're talking about, Wilson? " He looked like he was ready to kick his friend right in the face. “She wasn’t one of them. In fact, there was no “them”. In my entire life, I’ve never even touched another woman because I've been in love with Y/N since I was 14. We started dating when I turned 18, and I proposed before I had to go to the war.”
Bucky’s emotions quickly changed as the hot rage turned into a longing for memories and feelings. He felt a lump in his throat, so he reached into his pocket for his wallet, from which he pulled out your old and shabby photo, gently running his finger over your face.
“Y/N was everything to me. She said yes, and I promised her that I would return so we could get married. I imagined that I would spend my whole life with her, you know? I don't need any other woman. I do not want it. I still love her, and I don't care if either of you find it funny.
The room fell into heavy silence. Steve just looked out the window, remembering the times when the three of you went to Coney Island, and he was always the third wheel. You were his friend too, and the aching feeling in his chest was too heavy.
Sam felt a little bit awkward after saying these things about your relationships. He wanted to tease Bucky, not be rude.
Natasha was the one who took the first step when she stretched the arm so Bucky would give her the photo. “You two look so cheesy. She’s really gorgeous.” She smirked, looking at the old black-and-white photo of you two sitting on the bench. Your back was almost lying on Bucky’s body, and his arms were wrapped around you. It seemed like you were talking about something and enjoying the private moment. Bucky had the biggest smile Natasha has ever seen on his face, as he was looking at you with heart eyes.
 “Can I see?” Sam finally asked, nodding at the photograph in Natasha's hands. She passed him the photo and Bucky moved in his place, feeling a little bit uncomfortable about revealing this part of his life. 
“You two look cute. Weird to see a smile on your face.” Sam chuckled.
“Where did you find this photo?” Steve leaned closer to the picture, immediately remembering the day you and Bucky took it and the way Bucky has had it with him ever since.
 “I took it to the war. Always had it in a jacket, even on missions. She was with me that day on the train. I think Hydra found this in my pocket. When I ran away from there, I found a box with my stuff; the photo was there.”
 “Have you… tried to find something about her?” Steve lifted his head, studying his friend's reaction.
 “Yeah,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know how, but I didn’t find anything. Two years after my fall, there was no record of her. No marriage certificate, no place of residence, no place of work. Nothing. Like she just disappeared.” He shook his head in despair. 
 “But it's impossible.” Steve frowned, giving the photo back. “A person can't just disappear and leave nothing behind.”
 "I don't know," Bucky shrugged, looking back at the photo for a second and then slipping it back into his wallet. "Maybe it's for the best. I don't know how I would come to terms with the news of her death.”
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It’s been almost two weeks since that conversation, and luckily for Bucky, Sam didn’t attempt to set him up with anyone anymore.
Earlier that day, Tony announced that his new technology had spotted some weird activity in something that looked like an old and hidden Hydra base. It was pretty much abandoned, but there were signs of small energy consumption, as if something was still constantly working. That’s why the team of Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Tony had to check it out and destroy any possible danger.
After being free from Hydra, Bucky didn’t take part in many missions because the team agreed that it would be better for him to heal and stay far away from triggers. But this base brought up many concerns: it was hidden far away, there was no information about it in nonofficial papers, and even Bucky himself had never heard about it. Tony insisted that someone with knowledge of the Hydra system should go there too.
When the four of them arrived on the quinjet at something that looked like a well-hidden abandoned bunker, they decided not to split up and go through the main and only entrance.
“Be careful; we don’t know that they might hide in here.” Steve said, going in first with a shield in front of him. Bucky and Sam went after him, holding rifles and checking the big and almost empty room.
“They should clean in here, kinda dusty.” Tony chuckled in his usual playful voice. 
“It’s not a good time for your jokes, Stark.” Steve was always a little too serious during missions, and Tony really liked pushing his buttons. “I see the light in the other room.” He whispered, carefully opening the door. 
“Holy shit.” Sam and Tony spoke at the same time when all four of them entered the giant room.
There were five big glass machines that were a little bit foggy and had a little lightning in them.
“What is this?” Steve ran closer to one of them and saw that there was a man inside. “Oh my god, there is a man in here... It looks like he’s alive.”
“There is a folder called “The Winter Soldier Program” with personal information.” Sam said, picking up a file from the shelf in the corner of the room. “George Harris, 27 from New York. Kathleen Hill, 21 from New York…” He read, mumbling to himself.
“It’s a cryostasis chamber. Hydra used it to freeze me.” Bucky lowered his rifle, coming closer to one of the chambers. Another man. “It lowers your body temperature to the point that you can be kept like that for many years. Hydra– “ Bucky went silent when he got to another glass camera. 
“Barnes? Why is there—” Sam didn’t finish his words when the sound of Bucky’s weapon falling on the cold concrete filled the room. 
“No-no-no, please, no!” He whispered, moving closer to the glass. He couldn’t believe what he saw. 
You were right in front of him, with closed eyes and too pale skin. That was impossible. It’s not you. There was no chance that you somehow ended up with Hydra. 
Bucky felt like he was unable to breathe. He tried to inhale some air, but the lump in his throat was too big. The tears blurred his vision; he didn’t hear anything around him, as your almost lifeless body was the only thing that he thought about. You, his sweet girl, somehow ended up trapped with monsters, and he couldn’t do anything to save you from it. 
“Bucky!” Two pairs of hands dragged him from the chamber, and the blurry vision of his best friend was now visible in front of him. “Bucky, listen to me! You should calm down, buddy. Just breathe, okay?” Steve deeply inhaled and exhaled to help Bucky, and after a few minutes, he was finally able to speak.
“T-that’s impossible, Steve. She shouldn’t be there! She should’ve found another man and lived a happy life with her family!” He said in a shaking voice, angrily wiping away tears from his face. 
“I don’t know how this happened, Buck; I really don’t. But she may be alive there.” Steve supportively squeezed Bucky’s shoulder. 
“We can’t just take these people out. We should transport them to the tower and find the safest way to unfreeze them.” Tony said in a serious voice, not joking around anymore. He walked closer to the chambers, studying each of them. “It looks like they are working on their own power, and this one, “he pointed at the one that was dark and with water drops from the inside. “Doesn’t work anymore. The man is probably dead.” 
“Are there any chances of getting them out of there alive?” Sam glared at Bucky, who was just staring at your peaceful but haggard face through the glass.
“I don’t know, but me and Banner will do everything we can.”
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It took another day to find a way to move four of the still-working chambers to the compound and ten more hours to defrost everyone. and to say that Bucky was completely stressed out and exhausted was an understatement. He didn’t sleep at all, staying in the room near the lab to get all the news as soon as possible. He walked around the room for hours, overthinking everything—what will happen if you die or if you survive? Is it really better for you to wake up and see all the damage that he has done for the past years? To see the empty shell of the person you loved in the past?
“Barnes!” Tony blasted through the doors with a grin on his face. “We did it.”
“You did it?” Bucky’s whole body was buzzing with energy and anxiety. “Where is she? Is she alive? Is she conscious? Can I see her?”
“Wow-wow, calm down. She is alive, but you can’t see or visit her right now. Dr. Cho has to run many tests to find out whether your lovebird is healthy or not.” Tony nodded his head toward the corridor so Bucky would follow him. “We put each of them into a different room, and your Blonde Bestie insisted on putting Y/N into the best and the biggest one. There is a special window through which you can see her, but she cannot see you from the inside. So you can be as creepy as you want to until she gets better.” Stark slapped Bucky on the shoulder to show some kind of support when they stopped in front of the said window. 
You were lying on the bed, surrounded by too many wires and monitors. Dr. Cho was standing above you, writing something down, and checking the device near your head.
She said something aloud, probably talking to FRIDAY, and came out of the room. 
“Oh, Mr.Barnes, I heard that Y/N was your girlfriend, right?” She smiled, and Bucky slightly nodded, not being able to completely drag his attention from your body. “I’ll tell you this: it’s my most difficult and unique case, but she’s a strong one. Her body heals faster than other people’s from cryo. I believe she’ll be fully awake tomorrow.” 
“Thank you, Dr.Cho.” Bucky felt a little bit better now that he had more hope that you could really be back. Dr.Cho gave him another smile and left to check on her other patients. 
“I have to find out if these people have families. Did Y/N have someone who might be alive?” Tony asked. 
“No, she didn’t.”
“I’ll go, and you, Barnes, will stay away from her for now, understood?” He pointed a finger into Bucky’s face. 
“Yes. I’ll just watch from here.” 
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You were alive. You were awake. Bucky saw with his own eyes as your body started moving and you slowly sat on the bed, confused by your surroundings. He saw panic on your face because you were clearly disoriented and scared to be alone in an unknown place. 
As fast as he could, he found Dr. Cho, who was in the room with Steve and Natasha. When he, choking on all the emotions, told them about you, it was a mess. 
Dr. Cho and a few other nurses ran to your room to check your condition because you were the first one to open your eyes.
Bucky, Steve, and Nat stood on the other side of the window. Bucky wasn’t able to fully convince himself that it was true that you were so close to him. It felt like a dream, like a weird picture that his brain created to comfort him. 
“She’s okay, Buddy.” Steve placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder because it seemed like he didn’t even blink or breathe. “You can see her soon.”
“No.” He mumbled.
“What?” His friend’s head shot in his direction.
“Someone else should talk to her first. Tell her about my past. Maybe she won’t even want to see me after everything I’ve done.”
“I can go and talk to her first.” Natasha softly smiled. She knew the feeling when you’re afraid that someone will leave you because of your past. “I think it’s better for Y/N to first find out that she woke up in the new century and that she was cryofrozen for many years. I’ll tell her that Steve is alive, and then me and you can both tell her about Bucky.” 
Bucky just nodded to her words, still not being able to look at anything besides you. He wasn’t sure that after you find out all the truth, you’ll allow him to even be around you, so for now, he tried to memorize you as much as he could. 
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Since the moment you opened your eyes, everything felt unknown and different. You couldn’t explain it, but something had changed. You didn’t know where you were, what time it was, how you ended up in that place, or who all these people were. You felt scared as too many doctors crowded your room and fussed around, talking about tests and medical procedures. 
The young woman who seemed to be in charge was actually really sweet. After only you and her were left in the room, she sat on your bed with a pile of clothes in her hands and smiled at you. 
“So, Y/N, my name is Dr. Cho, and I’m here to help you heal faster and without any consequences.” 
“Where am I?” Your voice was too raspy and harsh. It felt like you swallowed a glass of sand. 
She sighed, looking at her journal. “It’s hard to explain, but I promise that there’s nothing to worry about. You are safe. In a few minutes, someone will visit you to talk about everything and answer any of your questions. Now, I was told to give you these clothes so it would be more comfortable for you. You can change in the bathroom right there; there is also anything you might need like a toothbrush, soap, and so on.” She pointed at the door in the corner of the room. 
You stayed silent until Dr. Cho left your room, and then slowly, feeling kind of scared to move around this place, you went to the bathroom to change out of the hospital gown. 
The bathroom looked even weirder than the main room; you had never seen such furniture and interiors. And when you unfolded your new clothes, it took you a few seconds to figure it out. It was some kind of soft pants and a large t-shirt. What kind of clothes was it? Yes, they were actually comfortable, but it wasn’t something that you saw in the stores. 
While you were brushing your teeth, your brain was working too hard trying to figure out what the hell was going on, until you heard someone calling your name. 
“Hey, Y/N, my name is Natasha.” The pretty red-headed woman was standing near your bed with a tray and food in her hands. 
“Please, tell me what’s going on. Where am I? Why does everything look so strange here?” You said in a desperate voice, you almost wanted to scream because you woke up several hours ago, but no one told you a single thing.
“Don’t be nervous, honey. Let's sit on the bed; you’ll eat your special meal, and I’ll tell you everything you want.” She was so nice and genuine, so you nodded and sat down. 
Natasha placed a tray near you, and you saw that it was your favorite food of all time. You took a bite, and your taste buds were immediately filled with the taste of the meal that James cooked you almost every day. James. It was his recipe. The tears flooded your eyes when all of the memories about your dead boyfriend returned to your head. Yeah, how could you forget that it had been at least two years since he was gone? 
“Y/N? What happened?” Natasha’s worried voice distracted you. 
“It just reminded me of someone. I felt like I was home, and it hurts me because nothing is the same anymore.” You wiped your tears away, taking another bite. 
“I promise you that everything is going to be okay. You are not alone here.” You frowned at her words but still nodded. “So ask whatever you want to.” 
“Where am I, and why does everything look so different?”
“You are at the Avengers Tower, located in Manhattan, New York City. I know that might sound ridiculous, but you were in the cryostasis chamber up until now. It’s 2023, and a lot of things have changed in the world; that's why it might be confusing.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, overthinking Natasha’s words. “It can’t be true. I can’t be more than one hundred years old now. And I look the same.” 
“This is how cryostasis works—it freezes the body so it can survive many years without any changes. Now tell me how you ended up with Hydra. What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?” 
“Back in the 40s, I was a nurse. My– my boyfriend— he died during the war.” You stopped because of the lump in your throat. It was too hard to bring back these memories because it was the first time you said these words out loud. “He died, and then my closest friend died too, and I just had no one left. I was alone, and I didn’t even know what to live for because all of my dreams about family and a happy life with the person I loved died too.” Natasha put her hand over yours on the bed and gave you a supportive squeeze. “Then one day in our hospital, scientists were looking for people who would like to test new serums. I decided that I had nothing to lose, so me and a few other nurses signed in.” 
“Kathleen, Josh, Adam, and Frank, right?” The woman in front of you gave you a sad smile.
“Yes, how do you know that?” 
“We found them with you. Adam’s camera was broken, so he died a long time ago, but the rest of them are here too, but, unfortunately, they haven’t regained consciousness yet.” 
You nodded. Your food was now done and set aside, and you sat on the bed more comfortably, bringing your knees to your chest. “These scientists were running some tests on us in the lab that they brought us in. It felt weird, and I remember that Kathleen always complained that it was painful. The last thing that happened was that they told us to step into a weird-looking machine that was meant to be a part of some kind of experiment. That’s it.”
“It was Hydra. A terrorist organization that tried to rule the world. They were evil, and you were lucky to get out of there alive.” Natasha pursed her lips. “Thank you for telling me this.” 
You two sat in silence for a few seconds until she looked over her shoulder at the weird-looking mirror that took up almost a whole wall. 
“Is anything wrong?” You furrowed.
“I have to tell and show you something really important, but everyone is worried about how you are going to react to this.” She studied your face with a weird expression. 
“Is there anything more crazy than me being in another century after I was frozen?” You tried to smile, but Natasha just nodded. 
“I’ll be right back. Please, try to breathe, okay?” She stood from your bed, took the tray, and left. 
Natasha came back, and behind her was the last person you ever expected to see again. You jumped on your feet, feeling like your eyes were lying to you. 
“This—this can’t be true... No, Natasha—Steve, you died.” You mumbled under your breath. Your heart rate was way higher than usual, and it felt like you were drowning. You put your hand over your eyes, as your body started shaking. It’s just a dream. It’s just a weird fucking dream.
Two large hands wrapped around your body, pulling you into the hard chest. “Sh-s, Y/N, breathe, just breathe.” His familiar voice filled your ears, and you started crying harder, gripping his shirt. He was rocking you from side to side like a baby, while your tears and sobs filled the silent room.
“What– how– how is this possible? You crushed the plane into ice.” You shattered, tears running down your face.
“The Super Soldier serum saved me. The S.H.I.E.L.D. found my body 12 years ago.” Steve loosened his arms around you, allowing you to look up at him. He was exactly the same. This blonde hair, these light blue eyes, and that soft smile that he always had for you. “Please, sit back on the bed. We have a lot to talk about.” His face was now more serious. Even though he was extremely happy to get back his second closest best friend, he knew that Bucky was dying without you.
Steve and Bucky both looked at your interaction with Natasha, and it was obvious that everything Bucky wanted was for you to be near him. He looked through that window without any distraction, and his face lit up with a small smile when you tasted the food that he cooked for you and became emotional. He knew that you would appreciate it.
“About what?” You wiped your face with the back of your hand and sat down, holding Steve's hand. Natasha, who was still standing in the middle of the room, passed him a thick folder and left. Steve sat near you and gave you a supportive smile. 
“Bucky.” 
You froze and snatched your hand out of his. 
“Steve, no. Please—” You wrapped your hands around your body, as if you were instantly trying to hide from the pain that was aching in your chest. “Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I can’t handle that. Talking about him w-when he’s not with me anymore.” The sods started to get out of you, and you hid your face from Steve’s soft and apologizing eyes.
“He is alive.” Steve’s hands fell on your shoulders, and he lowered his head, trying to make you look him in the eyes.
“Don’t lie to me! He is dead; I saw the reports; I got the letter from Phillips saying that he’s sorry for our loss!” You particularly yelled at your friend. 
“Y/N, listen to me, okay? Bucky is alive. He is here. Behind that door, he’s watching us right now.” You were shaking your head in denial. 
That was impossible. You knew all this story; Steve himself told you what happened that day. There was no chance for Bucky to survive the fall from that height in the middle of nowhere. Yet here was Steve, sitting right before you. His big blue and soft eyes were looking into your eyes, and you didn’t see a single sign of hesitation or lying in there. He was so genuine that you wanted to believe that your boyfriend was, in fact, a few meters away from you.
“How? And why? James– he would’ve been with me if he were alive. Why isn’t he here?” You sobbed, and then the realization came to you. “That food—the food that Natsha brought me. It tasted exactly like he made it.”
“Bucky thought that it might comfort you. He found you in that laboratory, he has been near you since that day, and he saw that you were scared and disoriented when you woke up. And that's why I am here. Bucky insisted that I should talk to you first and tell you everything. He is afraid that you might not see him anymore after finding out everything that is written here.” Steve picked up the folder and put it on your lap. 
“The Winter Soldier” was written on top of the old-looking piece of paper, and for some reason you felt something weird in your chest.
“I want to let you know that whatever is in here, it cannot make me hate him.” You mumbled, hesitating to open the folder. “What’s in there, Steve? Tell me everything.”
“These are the papers that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra had on the Winter Soldier. Everything that happened to him: experiments, torture, assassinations, crimes. This is what happened to Bucky after the fall. This is what Hydra did to him over these years.” 
You felt a lump in your throat when you opened the first page and saw Bucky’s photo from the army. But nothing prepared you for everything you read and saw after that. He wasn’t even James or Bucky anymore. He was a Soldier. An Asset. Someone without an identity. All the detailed descriptions of the medical procedures, brainwashing, electroshock, torture, and punishments with attached photos made you want to vomit and cry hysterically. You couldn’t stop crying when your shaking hands took a picture of the love of your life sitting shirtless and unconscious on some kind of stool with wires attached to his head. 
How could someone do that? How could someone torture a person almost to death and then just write about it like it was a fucking dairy? 
“His arm, it’s metal. Why is it made from metal?” Your teary-red eyes shoot back to Steve’s face. 
“Bucky lost it during the fall. They gave him a new one, but it causes him a lot of pain. Physical and mental.”
“I don’t— Steve, I don’t understand.” You took another picture with Bucky standing in his full black costume and a mask, not a single emotion on his face. “Why did they do this? For what?” 
“Hydra wanted to have the perfect asset. Killing machine. To commit crimes, kill unwanted people, and basically rule the world.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, looking at the floor. “They made Bucky the best. They completely cleared his head from the memories of his past; they trained him to be invincible and invisible. They had a special combination of words to control him, so he would always come back and do as he was told.”
You closed the file and moved it aside, closing your face with your hands while you were crying.
“And he thinks that I can reject him?” You whispered.
“Y/N, please try to understand what such things can do to your brain. Bucky goes to therapy, but he probably would never be able to fully heal from this experience.” His hand fell on your shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “Bucky always was a good person; that's why right now he feels so much guilt that it’s unimaginable. Even if nothing of this is his fault, he can’t forgive himself for these murders and damage. He has PTSD, nightmares, and a lot of trust issues.”
“I understand, but I would’ve never rejected him. He’s everything that I had, and when I lost him, it felt like hell.” You took a deep breath, looking Steve in the eyes. “Please, let me see him. I need it, and he needs it too.” Steve’s eyes softened at you. He almost forgot the love that his two best friends had for each other. 
“Give me a minute, okay?” He smiled, kissed your head, and left your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You were really going to see the man that you thought you had lost forever in a few seconds. It was almost three years for you, but almost eighty for him. A wave of anxiety washed over you when you thought that maybe he doesn’t feel the same anymore and doesn’t have the same feelings as you do. You almost went down a rabbit hole until the door started to open. 
You slowly stood up, feeling a little bit uneasy. Even though you and Steve were just talking about it, seeing Bucky alive felt unreal. Your eyes were sliding up and down his face to remember every little part. He looked different, more mature, with a broad chest and shoulders and long, silky hair. 
Bucky’s heart was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was completely dry while you were observing him. You had tears in your eyes, and your lower lip was trembling when you tried to hold yourself from crying out loud. You were in some baggy clothes that Nat found for you, but you still looked fucking gorgeous. Still the most beautiful girl on the whole planet. 
“Doll…” Bucky’s raspy voice filled the room, and it was everything you needed. 
In just a second, you ran to him, falling right into his body. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your face hidden into his neck. 
As soon as Bucky finally hugged your smaller body and felt that it was real and that you were real, he broke down. Every last piece of strength went through the window as the tears rolled down his cheeks, probably soaking your t-shirt.
He wanted to drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness for all of the awful things that he had done. He didn’t deserve you anymore, not with this much blood on his hands. But Bucky couldn’t do what he wanted because your grip on him was so strong that he wasn’t even able to move away for an inch. 
“James…” Your quiet voice filled his ears, and it sent shivers down his spine. Only you and his ma called him that, and he missed it so fucking much.
Bucky’s hands moved from your waist a little bit lower, and you viewed it as an opportunity to get even closer. Your legs instantly wrapped around his body, and Bucky, making sure that you wouldn’t fall, went to the bed and sat down with you on his knees. 
“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry for everything that I’ve done.” He sobbed, shaking his head. You pulled away a little bit, finally meeting Bucky face-to-face. 
“Don’t you dare apologize for the things that you weren’t able to control, James!” Your voice suddenly became rough, filled with so much anger toward the people who hurt your precious boy. His hand on your waist tightened, and you slid your own to cup Bucky’s face. “I want to kill every one of them. Everyone who hurt you, who punished you,” Soft fingertips traced the delicate skin of the templates where, as you remember from the photos, wires with electricity were placed. “You didn’t deserve to go through this, James. I wish I was there for you.” 
“You were always with me. Even when they wiped me, I still had someone in my head. A woman with a soft voice, who told me that I'm strong and that it will end soon. I would’ve died without it.” You both were looking into each other's teary eyes, both feeling too much love and desire. 
Your head slightly tilted towards his, connecting your foreheads, and for a few seconds, it felt like home. Like nothing happened and you two were just having a lazy morning in bed.
The calloused hand on the side of your face brought you back to reality. Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes were looking into yours, and, sharing one thought, you both moved closer and connected your lips. The kiss was so soft, slow, and gentle, like you had the whole time in the world. It was this type of kiss that said that you both were there and alive. It was a reminder of the love that you had for each other. Reassurance, that no matter what, you will be there.
“I missed you so fucking much, doll. Since the day I first remembered everything, all I could think about was you. Even tried to find you, but there was not a single document. I started to believe that you just found a man, changed your last name, and moved away from that mess.” You were so close to each other, not wanting to split up even for a second. Your hands were moving up and down Bucky’s hard chest while he was rubbing the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“Are you joking, James? No one was able to replace you. The only people I talked to during that time were your mom and Becca.” His facial expression slightly changed at the mention of his family, and you placed a soft kiss on his stubble cheek. “I should’ve been the one who took care of them, but I was nothing without you, and Winnie almost made me move in with them. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to be a volunteer for these tests.” 
Bucky shook his head, his eyes again full of regret and pain. “I hate that it happened because of me.”
“At least I’m here right now. With you.” You smiled, sliding your hand into his dark, long locks. “You know, James, you look really good for someone who’s older than one hundred years old. I like your hair. And stubble.” His eyes rolled back at the feeling of your nails on his scalp. It had been so long since someone touched him without an intention to hurt him, and the realization of that made your heart swell with the need to take care of your boyfriend. 
“You know that you’re one year younger than me, right?” Your favorite little smirk in the whole world appeared on Bucky’s lips, and you smiled, moving a little bit closer to his body. The metal hand on your waist tightened, and you realized that you hadn't seen it in person yet. 
Your right hand reached behind you, grabbing a hard wrist that was covered in leather. Bucky’s body immediately froze under you, and his eyes snapped open. 
“Doll, no… You don’t have to...” 
“I want to. Give me your hand, James.” You said without any hesitation. Bucky looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, but then brought his metal hand between your bodies. “It’s just me, okay? I’m not scared, and I want to know everything.” You wrapped both of your hands around his hand and then gently started to take off the glove. 
The dark metal with beautiful golden stripes was shining under the bright light of the room. Your mouth slightly opened when you moved each finger with interest. Your gentle hands slid higher, rolling up the sleeve of the red henley Bucky was wearing. It was so smooth, without any sharp details, just an amazing and mind-blowing mechanism. 
“That’s so beautiful.” You mumbled in awe. Suddenly the plates under your hands moved, and a quiet whirring sound filled the room. You shot your eyes back at Bucky in shock, only to see that he was already looking at you with so much love that you almost melted. “Did you do that?” 
“It’s a new arm, not from Hydra. It reacts to my emotions. No one ever touched it without any fear.” You almost missed that last sentence, but the hurt in Bucky’s voice made you grab his face with your hands to get his whole attention.
“Listen to me, James. I’m not afraid of you. I won’t reject you. You are everything that I want. You still have the biggest and kindest heart of the guy that I met many years ago, and I’ll do everything to prove to you this.” The metal hand carefully touched your hand on the side of his face. “I love you. I love you so much, James.”
“I love you too, Doll. More than anything in this life,” Your lips crushed into each other, now sharing a more passionate and deep kiss. You slightly tilted your head, allowing Bucky to part your lips with his tongue and playfully bite you. It was almost too overwhelming, and you both were completely lost in each other until you finally needed to breathe. 
“Stay here with me, please. I don’t want you to leave.” You whined, trying to push your big and strong super soldier onto the bed. 
“I won’t leave, baby.” He chuckled, allowing you to push him back. You happily giggled and laid near him, interlacing your bodies together. 
You two were just staying in your own little bubble on your bed for what seemed like forever, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you finally fell asleep, feeling happy and peaceful in each other's arms.  
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fluff-n-cookies · 1 month
Text
Dabi simply adores you, his precious daughter. But he didn’t always love you.
Part 2
Warnings: attempted murder (failed), canon typical violence, robberies, alcohol+drugs, references to child neglect, implied pedophilia (nothing graphic, and not towards reader), teenage parenthood, minor swearing.
reader has blue eyes like Dabi's.
let me know if you spot anymore.
note: I swear, it's not that bad, just fluff with kinda angsty undertones, cuz' it's Dabi! what do you want
I mean, he was only a teenager when he had you, fresh to the villain business at the wonderful age of 16 and a half. He decided it’d be a wonderful time to drink his sorrows away one night, one horrid, awful night. He ended up fucking a woman he did not know, who was surely much older than he, in the back alley of a bar in the worse parts of town. Amidst the filth of the nearby dumpster, it was here that he would make the single worst decision of his life, either that, or the best. He really doesn’t know.
but alas, he ended up with a little swaddled baby 9 months later when the same woman angrily shoved you into his arms, declaring something unintelligible before storming out of the bar again. Dabi, who at the time was drunk and higher than a kite. didn't react. when you started crying, he didn't react. when you cried louder, thrashing around in his hold he still didn't react. he was in his own world at that moment, shutting out everything except the burn of the cheep beer going down his throat. it wasn't until he was kicked out of the bar along with you for being too disruptive and he fell asleep in one of the abandoned buildings nearby only to wake up hung over and disoriented did he realize what he had done; when he saw a quite malnourished baby laying down on his jacket that he chucked on the floor last night. your swaddle all dirty by now.
he did nothing but stare at you for a while, the pounding in his head as well as the harsh rays of the mid day sun didn't help much. He was still just a kid, a villain too, and homeless. he wasn't ready to have a child. for a split second he thought of leaving you there, God, you looked just like Fuyumi when she was a baby. but you looked worse, like you were barely living. had you... had you died during the night? he stumbled to your side of the room, trying his best to avoid the rumble of the deteriorating building. it would truly have been a miracle if you happened to survive in such conditions.
carefully, he flipped you onto your back, putting a warm hand on your chest. god. you were barely breathing. barely responding too. Dabi's breath hitched, had he nearly killed his own child? he stayed like there for a few moments. looking right at you. he really had no idea what to do. you're already on the verge of death, if you died right now, would it really matter? you've been on this earth for only a few days it seems, your mother left you with a villainous teenage father who could let you wither away in an abandoned building.
if you were to die right now. he could spare you the pain of having to live with him, you'd never have to know the horrors of life.
he could just light one flame,
let it fill the room with smoke,
and watch as your lungs give up
and you simply stop breathing.
...
you'd just be another person who never got to see their future.
Gently, he stroked your tiny chubby cheek with a warm finger.
he nearly laughed at the thought, killing his first child, just like his own father had done with him. he pulled you into his arms, preparing to hold a small flame right up to your face until your fragile little body couldn't take it anymore. then he'd leave your body here as he burns down the rest of the building. a fitting memorial. but before he could do anything,
he paused - you - you squirmed in his hold. cracking open your eyes to stare at him with soulless blue eyes that mirrored his own, tried and scared. an expression that surely should never be on the face of a child.
Dabi truly can't quite recall what happened in that moment when he held you in his arms. all he remembers is a clenching in his heart. maybe it was the alcohol and the drugs. but he felt the emptiness and the pain. the gut wrenching, soul crushing pain, the type that he felt whenever his father would ignore him, again and again. he pain he felt when he saw his childhood home again after so many years, only to find that nothing had changed; he was forever gone and no body gave a fuck.
but- you. just you. you were just like him. you wanted nothing more than a little bit of love. would it truly be so bad if he gave it to you? he'd keep you around, for a while at least.
that's what he told himself as he found himself stealing diapers and baby powder and formula and what not from a convenience store, only to fuck up making formula and changing a baby. he did a little victory dance with you in his arms when he finally figured it out.
but that's only after he managed to get some midwife or other doctor to do a lil' check up on you. (only to knock them out for the police to find their body hours later.) anxiously analyzing everything the doctor was doing, making mental notes to himself to have you try and eat better.
he tended to do more robberies and muggings these days, only to spend it all on a shabby little one bedroom condo in one of the cheaper (and by proxy, crime ridden) parts of the city. it was better than being a single parent living on the streets I guess.
he ended up turning the bedroom into your nursery, if you would call a room that could barely hold a twin sized bed, full of nothing but a crib, a small closet full of dirty clothes, and a big stack of baby products in one corner; a nursery. he instead slept on the couch most nights. but he would forever find himself running back into your room whenever you would cry, he almost always ended up letting you sleep on his chest on the couch. both arms slung over your tiny body so there would never be a chance you'd fall out of his grip.
but life got better with time it seems. he started taking bigger jobs, bank robberies, sometimes murders every now and then. he built a good reputation for himself. and you. you grew on him. who was once a fragile little thing, right to death's doorstep. now, when you smiled, he felt ever so full of life.
he liked how you would always wait by the door after he went out to run an "errand", always being right where he left you and babbling happily when he came back. making a little gesture to be picked up and carried.
he liked you you tend to boss him around most of the time. you could point to where you wanted to go and he would happily carry you there. he isn't even aware of what he's doing, you could yell at him (as best as a baby can anyways) and he'd meet your demands near instantly without much complaint. someone else would have to point it out for him to notice.
he especially liked how you would stare at him with wide eyes as he would smoke on the balcony with the glass door shut. every night, it was a routine, just after dinner, Dabi would snag a pack of cigarettes, and sit outside on the balcony to smoke, occasionally looking back inside through the glass to see what you were doing. he would put on a little cartoon or set out some toys for you. and while that'd keep you entertained for a while, you'd still drift towards him, looking back at him through the glass to try and get his attention. his smoke breaks kept getting shorter and shorter because of that.
he liked how every time he woke up, you would always be with him. looking up at him with those big blue eyes that he gave you. especially the way you'd always look at him with nothing but love and joy.
the same eyes that he used to look at his own father with disdain and fury.
he'll joke around that you're too clingy, always following him, attached to the hip, quite literally with how often he holds you on his hip. But deep down he knows he'd be torn apart if you were gone from him for even one hour. he can't live without your little hugs and giggles and stupid playtime's and everything. please, your love means the world to him.
but he was still only ever a boy, a boy who never quite got to grow up the way he was meant to. but you will forever be the reason he'd try and be a man. for his little girl. he remembers how he'd make more frequent trips to the grocery store, how he'd stock up on medicine for kids, how he'd buy cleaning supplies to somehow make the rinky dinky condo you both live in a tad bit more suitable for a child.
you're the reason he even joined the league. this world has already killed him, and while he was given a second chance as Dabi will it really ever be the same?
but you. you are so full of life, so perfect, awaiting a future unknown. he'll sculpt this world with the second chance he's been given. for your father, Touya, may be dead, but Dabi is not, and he is very much ready to give you what he never had, even if he dies again in the process.
but with the league comes responsibility, a time consuming responsibility. gone are the days when he'd lounge around at home all day and only leave to take you to the playground or grocery shopping, and the occasional robbery when he was low on cash. now he was busy! can you believe it? now Dabi may have skipped nearly all of high school but he wasn't that stupid enough to leave a child home alone for hours on end. hence, he came to the conclusion of daycare. the horrid, horrid daycare.
he nearly cried when he realized his little girl was growing up so fast, it seemed like just last week he was holding you on his hip as he heated up a bottle of formula in his hand to finally get you to shut up and sleep. that only a couple days ago you walked your first ever steps after he came home early with your favorite snacks. he wasn't even able to record it he was too busy sobbing as you held onto his legs to steady yourself waiting for him to pick you up. it literally felt like yesterday you said your first words, "baba" after he jokingly started calling you cry baby.
this actually led to quite a lot of problematic nicknames, cry baby became Babs and Babs became bun and bun became bunny and bunny---- (i'm losing it as I write this.)
but nonetheless, it hurts. so every morning he'll wake up at the crack of dawn to haul you out of bed and get you all pretty and dolled up for the day. he lets you choose your shirt and pants and bows and what not. tying up your little baby sized shoes to take you to the next district over. now, he would've enrolled you into a daycare much closer to home but he really wants you to be safe, and unfortunately anything and everything in your neighborhood without his supervision is not and never will be, considered safe. so he'd much rather escort you via public transport to the richer neighborhoods every single morning than have you be in danger of any kind. sure, you're a little out of place, with thrifted clothes and frizzled up hair from only ever using your dad's 4-in-1 shampoo. and he's definitely out place. hence why he never quite shows his face to the teachers. always ushering you into the daycare building before leaving as fast as he came. The teachers think that he's your older goth brother who's being forced to take you to school by his parents. is it exhausting? yes, very much so. will he do it on repeat for the rest of his life if that means ensuring your happiness and safety? most certainly yes.
---
PART 2 IS HERE
that'll be all. I might do a part 2. tried something different with my writing this time and hope it's better than the rest of my works.
my stuff is right here: Bnha master list, rules for requesting, ask box
send me an ask, I fucking love hearing from you guys.
edit, 4 hours after posting: I'm very disappointed that I still have no new asks. very disappointed in you all.
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sophiethewitch1 · 8 months
Text
What We Want - Prologue
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
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SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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The cupcake is smashed. Pink icing and gaudy star-shaped sprinkles coat the interior of the box, and the pastry itself has devolved into crumbs. You just stare at it. It had cost you seventeen dollars. It was expensive, yeah. But you’d spent the last three months walking past it every morning and afternoon in the bougie cafe’s windows. You’d waited. You’d wanted.
And it was destroyed. Completely. The perfect swirl of the buttercream was no more. The single, delicate flower made of frosting had lost half it’s petals. You weren’t sure how you could eat it. The wrapping had been warped, but maybe a tea spoon would work?
You let your head fall into your hands, a sob wracking your shoulders. And then less than a second later you swallow down the feeling, and stride over to your shitty apartment’s tiny kitchen. You grab a lighter, a plastic wine glass and the bottle of white wine Molly had given you earlier today. You hadn’t told her what happened yet, but she could tell something had. She’d gave you the wine, a hug, and the promise to always be by your side.
Despite today’s circumstances, despite this week’s circumstances, despite this decade’s circumstances, you were going to have a good birthday getting black-out drunk.
You weren’t going to let yourself sink into one of your funks. Even if it was the worst day of the year by far. Even if it was the second worst birthday of your life.
You just don’t. It’s not allowed.
Your phone rings. Sliding it out of your pocket, you stare blankly at the name on the screen. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
Malcom. One of George’s friends. You reject the call, block the number, and slide your phone back in your pocket. See? Dealing with things like an adult. Not throwing a temper tantrum, not crying, not… well, destroying your life in an epic meltdown. You’d had a few of those. Still, despite your obvious erraticness, you hadn’t been fired this year. Yay!
You told yourself you were getting better, even as the universe seemingly conspired against your happiness. You were kind of convinced it was.
Turning, you play with the cap on the wine, walking over to your old ratty couch and falling into it. The beast groans at the contact, but you pay it no mind. The thing was probably older than you, and you were celebrating your twenty-first today.
You were an orphan in Gotham, it was not your first time drinking. Molly had dragged you to so many awful parties over the years. But this wine was probably the fanciest you’d ever been given. Scratch that, definitely was. You pour yourself a glass, stick the birthday candle half-hazardly into the largest chunk of cupcake, and grab the remote.
The only true comfort you can get on this day. A woman, a reporter. She speaks, but you can’t really hear what she’s saying. You chug down a glass of the wine, apologising in your head to Molly, and then pour yourself another.
It takes a few minutes, but your muscles relax, and her words tune into focus.
“Today’s memorial, is once again sponsored by the Wayne foundation.”
Yeah, because they’re the only charity organisation in the city. The family of billionaires were debatably the only good ones in existance. Debtable because you weren’t sure if they were good enough themselves. As an orphan who’d known the cruelty of the system yourself, you were a mix of bitter and grateful towards them. Sure, they’d been the only thing that kept you out of true poverty. You were still an awful bitch about it.
You always had been the jealous type. The other kids who got better backpacks or toys or whatever had you seething with fury. The multitude of orphans Bruce Wayne risen out of poverty were not safe from your envy. It didn’t matter if you were… Well, a little bit, just a teeny-tiny-tiddly-little bit… obsessed. Obsessed with them. Kind of manic about it, actually.
You were working on it. Today was a bad day, and you were a little too raw. So, like every little dumb animal on the planet, you went straight to your creature comforts. You pretended you were a roman eating and drinking on their chaise lounge, watching their magnificent entertainment.
Delusional. Your sofa was falling apart at the seems, your cupcake was debris and your entertainment was a memorial service. Wine was good, though.
Gotta focus on the good parts.
You watch the TV screen, the reporter’s voice drifting in and out of focus. There was a family photo of the Waynes and their family friends, all in perfect suits and dresses and pearls and fancy watches. You’d bet that those little accessories were worth more than a year of your rent.
And you lived in fucking Gotham, both the most expensive city to live in, and the worst at the same time. A miracle, truly.
Anyway, they were all stunningly beautiful, even some of the guys. God knows how much the internet went on about Richard Grayson’s long eyelashes. You’d always been enamored with Dick’s good looks. Even Damian Wayne who had only turned nineteen a few months ago and was three years younger than you was already being fawned over by the tabloids.
Gotham’s newest young rich bachelor. Bitterly envious, that was you. You didn’t like that emotion, though, so you turned your attention to others. Namely, delusion.
You let yourself get swept up in daydreams. Of having a rich family, of one so close knit as the Wayne’s. Of having a handsome, loving, kind partner. You don’t let yourself dream about your real family, of a George that was faithful.
You just don’t.
Maybe someone like Tim Drake. Loyal, everyone who knew him described him as loyal. His romances with Bernard Dowd and Stephanie Brown were famous. There were hundreds of papparazzi photos of him with big bundles of roses and a sweet look on his face. You thought someone like Tim Drake would probably be like one of the heroes in your romance novels. Something silly like a meet cute in an airport, or maybe a bookstore or a cafe. He was pretty famous in Gotham’s niche hipster coffee scene, right?
Yeah, you could see it now. Some dumb but cute scene where you get confused and accidentally take his order. You get the same drink, and bond over your shared love of caramel syrup. Like he didn’t live on the opposite side of the city from you, and you probably couldn’t afford whatever fancy shit he drunk. Italian coffee beans versus… well, you didn’t actually know what you bought. You knew it didn’t taste very good, but it was dirt cheap.
What were you doing? Ah, yes, silly daydreams about romance.
But even as you think of Tim, Dick Grayson was so pretty, and he’d had his fair share of partners too. Someone with such an angelic face had to have a personality to match, and the media agreed. Of course you didn’t really know what he was like, this was all just fantasy. Other than numerous tabloid interviews and television, which suggested he had a kind heart and a love for bad jokes you truly knew nothing about the guy. Still, he’d be the golden retriever trope, you think. Or the knight in shining armor, saving his heroine from one of the many disaster’s plaguing Gotham and confessing his love in one big final act. His meet cute would be the airplane one. The blue of his eyes, it makes you think of the sky. You’d take his seat, but he’d be super sweet about it. Like he didn’t have a private jet, and would never be caught on economy.
You think Damian Wayne could play a good romance lead as well. From what you’d seen, he seemed to have a terrible personality, which was perfect for any modern romance. A classic enemies to lovers, with some bickering. Maybe he’d have secretly loved her the entire time, and maybe there’d be a good grovel at the end. So, appreciating his character, he’d have to have a meet ugly. Probably get stuck in an elevator with him or something, and he’d get to display his keen intellect and argumentative nature.
You swirl your wine, nodding your head. Brilliant ideas today, you should talk to Molly more. She’d definitely appreciate your wisdom. She wanted to be a screen writer one day, and all this would be very helpful. She was going to college for it. You couldn’t afford college.
Maybe you were drunk. Maybe you were a genius. It was hard to tell, so you take another sip. That’ll help you figure things out.
“As always, the Wayne families’ faces are morose as they celebrate the late Jason Todd.”
And as always, you felt an odd connection with the dead man. Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity. Sure, you were still technically alive. Kicking about. But everyone you loved dying in one fell swoop, right in front of your eyes? You felt more like a ghost these days.
Weren’t you supposed to be fighting those sorts of thoughts off? Whatever, it was too much effort anyway.
Your slight obsession with the Wayne family had been initially started by Jason Todd. You hadn’t been thinking about him as much recently with George in your life, but he swung right back into place as soon as George left your life. Like a magnet, or more likely, a compulsion.
But now you were brought right back to the morning after. Seeing the entire city grieving the day after you’d lost your family, your first thought had been ‘Good, I’m not the only one,’ and then you’d stopped being an idiot and realised the city was mourning Jason Todd, heir to the Wayne name. Sure, there’d been hundreds of others who’d died, but that was Gotham. Your family had gotten a plaque filled with tens of other forgotten names, Jason had gotten framed photos hung around the city.
Today, his photo was once again surrounded by thousands of bouquets. Peonies, roses, daffodils, lillies, a rainbow of petals that almost covered his memorial stone. It reminded you of your sad-ass cupcake. When the camera zoomed out, you could see your smaller set of poseys against one of the thirty towering monuments, the tiny names crammed into the rock. Your families name was on line fifty-two, near the bottom. You could only afford the flowers once a year, but you visited once a week at least.
There were other flowers. Other offerings. Other candles. Jason’s dwarfed them all.
You sometimes couldn’t tell if you hated the dead man or were hopelessly in love with him. Obviously it didn’t matter. Even when he was alive he was out of both your league and your tax bracket.
Still, you were absolutely certain of it, Jason Todd would beat up George Lancaster. So fucking bad. To a bloody pulp. He’d be eager to do it, as well. You could hum and haw about how you thought violence was bad but he’d see right to the core of you.
The part of you that wanted George Lancaster to suffer. And he’d do it with a kiss and a promise that he’d make it slow. He’d save you from all your monsters, and he’d do it eagerly. And that was the fantasy of it all, wasn’t it?
You lift your glass, in celebration of your dead parasocial imaginary boyfriend. You hoped he wouldn’t be jealous of your new living parasocial imaginary boyfriends. Hiccuping out a laugh, you swallow down another gulp.
And even then, of course you wanted Bruce Wayne as a father. As someone who has seen the worst of the world, and would protect you from it. As someone who would wipe away the tears, who would save you from your own self. And you wanted Cassandra as a sister, someone to groan over guys with and steal clothes off. You wanted the close relationships they shared with Barbara Gordon and Stephanie Brown, with Duke who’d only recently come into their fold. You even wanted their dog you’d seen in photos, the cat that Damian posted on his instagram, the fucking cow they kept for god knows reason inside the estate. You wanted everything, every part of their lives. You were a jealous person, but more than that, you were a greedy person.
You glance at the clock.
11:57.
You shakily open the candle packet, picking a green one out. That had been Sam’s last favourite colour, but he switched them so often it was hard to remember. You stab it into the pink frosting. Julie always chose pink for her cake. Chasey loved flowers, particularly poseys. The flowers had looked like posesys before they’d been crushed.
You light the candle. It’s tiny flame flickers in the dark room, the warm light overpowered by the cool from the television. You peek back over to the clock.
11:58.
And Mum always made her wish at midnight, because she believed that was when it was most likely to come true.
What would you wish for? You never did, because you never knew what you wanted to wish for. Everything you wanted, everything you could’ve wanted, was gone. It couldn’t come back, it was impossible.
11:59.
You look at the TV, at the blinding forms of the Wayne family. Of their graveyard, with the manor in the background. It’s as impossible as everything else. But that’s what they represent for you, isn’t it?
Something hopeful. Something impossible.
You wanted impossible.
12:00.
You lean over the messy cupcake, and blow the candle out. It disappears in one blow, and you sink back into the couch. You take a few crumbs from the cupcake and sneak them past your lips. In your drunkenness, you probably get more on the couch than in your mouth.
You let your eyes flutter shut, and because only you can, you give yourself the comfort of lies. You imagine loving embraces, whispered platitudes. You imagine that today was a good day, that you’d find yourself tomorrow happy. That you wouldn’t wake up with a hangover, that you wouldn’t have a shitty job, an evil ex, and mountains of debt.
That you’d have people who loved you, who could ease the pain.
And you don’t even care who they are.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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fatkish · 2 months
Text
Alpha Rengoku x Omega Reader
Pt. 2 NSFW
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You met again during the Mugen train fiasco. You went ahead of Tanjiro and the others and met up with Rengoku
You both talked, well mostly you talked while he ate, about the theories you had for how a whole train’s worth of passengers could disappear
Rengoku tried to feed you and insisted that you eat but you told him you didn’t want to eat in the event that it gave you a cramp mid battle. Rengoku understood and backed off
When you fell asleep from Enmu’s ability, you dreamt of a future with Kyojuro. You both got married and had children. You were so happy
When you woke up and realized it was a dream, you knew then that you wanted to persue a bond with Kyojuro
When Akaza showed up after defeating Enmu, you refused to let the fight go on after Rengoku lost an eye. You ran in between the two and faced down Akaza
You refused to move and told Akaza that if he’s going to kill your mate, he may as well kill you too, since you wouldn’t want to live in a world without Kyojuro
Akaza, having a self set rule of not killing and eating women and Omegas, decided to let you both live and fled, (it totally wasn’t because his human memories tried to interfere with him)
Once morning came you turned around and began scolding Kyojuro for being reckless with his own life. Whilst you yelled at him, he stood there still trying to comprehend the fact that you called him your mate
When you were finished scolding him and asked if he understood you, he asked if you really meant it when you called him your mate. You shyly admitted that you wouldn’t mind being his mate
Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to do much as a demon slayer anymore, Kyojuro decided that he would spend his time training the next generation of demon slayers, that way he still had enough time to be there for you as your mate
Once Kyojuro got all healed up, he retired and you went with him.
Shinjuro and Senjuro were so happy to have another member of the family. Senjuro was so excited to hear that you would be living with them permanently. Shinjuro was glad to have an omega to help look after
As things settled down, Kyojuro began to officially court you, he made sure you had a comfortable place to nest, he made sure you ate, he kept you safe and at night he’d keep you warm as he snuggled with you, holding you in his arms
When your heat came about, this man unleashed a feral side of him. You saw stars as Kyojuro ate you out like you were his last meal. His tongue writhing inside of you, his fingers curling and stretching your walls as he sucked on your pussy/bussy
Kyojuro has a 7 1/2 inch cock with delicious veins and a red tip. There’s a slight upwards curve and he has about 2 inches in girth. His knot is about 3 inches
When you presented for him, he descended upon you and sheathed his whole cock inside of you before plowing through your insides. He growled and bit at your neck as his cock pummeled your poor sensitive cunt/bussy
When his knot swelled and pushed inside of you, locking you both together, he snarled and bit down on your scent gland, marking you as his as he came
After your heat hit and passed, his rut happened two weeks later. During his rut, he had you in all kinds of positions, enjoying you in every way he could imagine. You couldn’t walk straight for a couple days afterwards
As time went on, Kyojuro had gotten you pregnant 5 different times. Each of your children have his flame like hair. You both had five children, three boys and two girls
When you gave Kyojuro the news, you surprised him by giving him a box that had baby clothes in them. When he asked what this meant, you smiled and told him he was going to be a father
He sat there for a few moments as his smile slowly grew larger as your words sunk in. When he finally registered what you said he scooped you up in his arms and spun you around before kissing you
When Shinjuro received the news of his becoming a grandfather, he smiled and promised to be a better role model for his grandchildren than he was for his boys
Senjuro was so excited to be an uncle and helped you during each pregnancy. He helped you cook and do the chores and even helped you get around when Kyojuro was busy
When your first child was born, Kyojuro wept as he held his first child for the first time. He thanked you endlessly for giving him something so precious as a child
When your milk started to come in, Kyojuro begged you to let him taste it, he gave you his best big puppy dog eyes and you caved. Kyojuro fell in love with the taste of your milk and you’ve had to scold him to leave some for his pups. Whatever they don’t drink, he’ll finish off, you never have issues with leaks since Kyojuro and the pups never let your milk overfill
His pups developed their father’s appetite for your milk, they’ll drink their fill then take a nap. When they wake up they’ll be hungry again
Kyojuro is always happy to get the babies when they cry at night, his pups love him and they immediately calm down
Shinjuro helps out as well. He and Kyojuro take turns with getting the kids
Kyojuro loves his pups and he happily plays with them. He teaches his pups to fight and defend themselves and plays rough with them, even the girls, when they want to
He lets his girls play with his hair and give him ridiculous hairstyles to which he happily shows off as a sign of his love for his children
Your kids love their grandpa Shinjuro and will tackle him to the floor to which he happily laughs at
He reads them stories and spoils them with toys. He loves his grandchildren and constantly thanks you for giving him grandchildren. He does still miss Ruka but he realized that his children love him and that even though there is still a void left from her passing, his loved ones will always be there for him
Senjuro helps you teach the pups and often visits with them. The pups love their uncle Senjuro and they think he’s cool and fun
Senjuro helps you in the kitchen since the family has become rather large and Kyojuro’s appetite has only grown. You and Senjuro share recipes and love cooking together
You’ll give him advice on life and he’ll happily take it. You also give him encouragement to find love and enjoy his life
Eventually, once Muzan is killed, you and Kyojuro open a dojo, there, you and Kyojuro teach people how to wield swords and how to properly fight with them, passing on the flame breathing techniques to your children
Tag list: @imagineshazamlokimight
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anakinsdove · 4 months
Text
𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 «𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐»
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!padawan!reader
summary: Your master is horny and frustrated, he looks for release at a nasty gloryhole in coruscant... only to find out that that perfect pussy he's fucking belongs to his padawan.
c/w: gloryhole mentions, p in v, masturbation, power imbalance, blowjobs, good pounding (very nasty idgf im sorry im horny)
discord - twitter: anakinsdove. -PART 1-
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。Love you
𝘄/𝗰: 3,231
1 week ago
He does look lovely standing there, he’s talking to master mundi and master kenobi, broad shoulders and a serious expression on his face, but you know it’s all a facade, the minute you two are alone again he’ll go for a round of twister and maybe if you’re lucky pizza and movie night… he’s like no other Jedi, and you wouldn’t want it any other way, he’s unorthodox, impulsive and he can get under people’s skin easily.
He has a charm you haven’t seen anywhere else in the galaxy in your entire life, but you don’t know many things, he added a little bit of color in your life, he has thaught you things and to see life in a different way, he’s naturally good at everything he does… it’s insane.
“Whatcha thinking about?” You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t see him move next to you
“You” you say simply and he chuckles
“You’re still impressed by that move? I told you Y/N it all about the wrist” your eyes sparkle at the memory of him tearing droids apart in your previous mission, only a few hours ago
“No, not that-” “Be right back, I have to give the council a report of our mission” he ruffles your hair and leaves
Your eyes follow him until he dissapears in a crowd and you sigh, attachment is forbidden, but how can you not get attached to Anakin Skywalker? there are many rules you’d break for him, he’s your master and it’s wrong, but still… you can’t help but think of him late at night when you touch yourself, your fingers rub tight little circles on your clit as you try not to give in sleep and you can’t help but mutter “Anakin…”
You’d ruin everything for him, You’d give him everything you are, everything you have… and it kills yourself to think he might not want it.
But you’re wrong
Because Anakin Skywalker is utterly and obsessed with you, he wants nothing more than to bend you over and stuff you so good with his cock, that’s his ultimate fantasy, but he must not give into his instincts, Until…
Present day
His arms wrap around your waist in the darkness… you shouldn’t have done that, does he hate you now? Is he disappointed? Does he not love you anymore? That thought is unbearable.
“Calm down, I can feel the anxiety dripping from you” “I’m sorry….” “No, You’re not” And he’s right, why should you be sorry for? For him filling you up tonight? For giving him the best orgasm of his life… you, his padawan.
“I don’t want you to be sorry Y/n” you turn around and your pretty eyes look up at his silhouette, even his shadow is beautiful “Why not?”
His fingers squeeze your waist experimentally and you can’t help but sigh, his touch relives a deep ache in your heart and possibly between your legs.
“Was I the first man to fuck you tonight?” His voice is low and dangerous and you nod stupid “Because I saw you with your legs spread and in display for everyone, If I arrived 2 minutes later someone else would’ve ended up fucking you, didn’t you think of that when you chose to fuck up with my mind?”
You feel like crying and he sees your eyes water, you’ve humiliated yourself and he doesn’t want you, you have betrayed his trust…. “No master… p-please I’m sorry…” he wipes your tears away with his thumbs “I said I don’t want you to be sorry… I want to fuck you again and this time I want you to watch” your breathe heaves and he kisses your forehead reassuringly “I’m just surprised that’s all… I didn’t know you had it in you…” his fingers unbuttoned your shirt swiftly and he removes it, the sight of your cleave is doing more for him than it should “Can I fuck you? Can I do it again this time because I want to?” You nod desperately and he turns you around pushing you against your clothing drawer… he turns on your pretty table lamp and your eyes fixate on the picture over the drawer, it’s a picture from last summer, anakin and you smiling as he carries you… an innocent moment so far of what you’re doing right now.
He spreads your legs and pushes into your lower back signaling to arch your back deeper, you hear fabric breaking and you know your panties are gone forever “Holy shit…” you look over your shoulder to see his expression lust and hungriness written all over his face “My cum is still dripping out of you… it’s dripping down your thighs” you look down and confirm what he says, his cum has been dripping down your thighs since the walk back to the temple… he spits over his fingers and you scrunched your eyes shut when he wraps his arm over your front and rubs your clit deliciously “And so fucking wet” “Master!” You cry out louder than intended and you hear him smirk, his hips move with abandon against your ass, he grinds his painfully hard cock over you bare skin, you don’t understand why his pants are still on…
“All you needed to do was ask… I would’ve fucked you so long ago if I knew you wanted me as much as I wanted you” his fingers move faster and your brain turns off “What-“ “Fucking brat- you dont even want to know how many times I had to stroke my cock to the most unsatisfactory orgasm, when all I had to do was going to your quarters late at night and take you, don’t you want your master to feel good?” He moans against your ear, his confession fueling your desire as it drags you closer to the edge, you move your hips back against him and he growls, he wants to be the one in control.
“Fuck me please- fuck me I can’t take it anymore” you practically mewl when his fingers dip inside your creamy cunt, come hitter motion hitting your spongy spot deliciously, this is worth every consequence this could have in the future. “You’re going to take what I fucking give you, nothing less and nothing more my padawan, understand?” He says with a condescending tone and gives a kiss to your ear
Anakin underestimated his own arousal because he feels like cumming in his pants right now, his breathing is heavy and his eyes close… then he removes his fingers from your cunt leaving you empty.
“No!” You cry out and he has to shut you up, he dips his fingers inside your mouth making you taste yourself “I know it tastes heavenly love, I fucking know it” your eyes roll back into your head at his dirty words, you’re soaked by now.
He pulls away and sits on the edge of your bed pulling you into his lap, his fingers squeezing your breasts over your bra when he says “What do you know about sucking cock sweetheart?” Is he serious right now? He took your virginity only a couple hours ago! it also makes you giggle because of his vulgar words.
“Nothing” you say honestly and he nods “Good” already pushing you to the ground and on your knees, his fingers unzip his pants desperately tugging them down with his boxers too, his cock slapped against his lower stomach… it looks painfully hard and begging for your touch.. you practically zone out looking at it and you can’t help but be amazed that it even fitted inside you, this is your first time seeing it, ironically.
“I’ve dreamt about fucking this little mouth” he says breathlessly and his thumb traces your lower lip as you look at him with a pouty look… “I’ll guide you through it okay?” “Please…” he smirks at this, he knows how whiny you can be, so having you under control brings him satisfaction as your master.
“Spit on it- good good… now w-wrap your hand around my- Fuck!” He hissed as you stroke him inexpertly but still feels so good, it’s probably because it’s you, everything feels good with you, it makes him curl his toes “I thought you didn’t know anything about this.. Ah fuck…” he closes his eyes as he gives into the pleasure for a brief moment and opening them again when you mutter an unexpected confession “I gave a handjob once…” “To whom?!” He says offended but has to close his eyes again as you milk him his own precum and your spit making the nicest lube, you look at his cock with some sorry of fascination at the slimy sounds its making “L-“ “Don’t fucking tell me” he hisses and pushes your head down “Now suck on it sweetheart nice and slow…” you give the head a little kiss and kitten lick the shaft slowly… nice and slow and you can clearly see his abs constricting due the pleasure “It’s only right im the one who teaches you this” his voice is husky and it holds so much lust and you roll your eyes at his cockiness “Your master had to be the one to teach you how to blow someone Y/n… but most important I’m teaching you how to please me” his words are doing something to you and you can’t help yourself but to grind against his boot that he previously angled for you to rub yourself against it… you moan around him and he needs more.
“Just a little bit more sweetness, you kitten licking my tip feels amazing but your master needs you to take a little bit more okay?” You nod clumsily and his fingers tangle in your locks pushing you a little lower so you can take him deeper, your inexperience shows when you choke around his cock… if you only knew how good that felt, his breath heaved as he mutters a strangled “Good girl- good girl, you’re making your master feel so good” his praise sends shivers down your spine and he carefully thrusts up, hips moving up slowly as you furrow your eyebrows in concentration but you choke again “Ah.. fuck, nice and slow love… nice and slow take your time, I’m don’t going to hurt you”
He moans and groans as your lips wrap around him nice and tight, you’re mouth is warm and it feels perfect, just like everything about you, his thrusts speed only a little bit “Do- do you remember that time where I let you skip training because you wanted to go out to the mall?” You nod… that’s the only thing you can do when you’re this cock drunk… your eyes close and you let him move your head up and down as he pleases “I was a good master, I did a favor for you yeah?” Your eyes water as his cock hits the back of your throat “Now I need you to be a good padawan and let me fuck your mouth, okay?” You whimper around him and he groans… nodding desperately he smirks “tap my leg if it gets too much and breathe through your nose” he holds your hair in a ponytail and starts thrusting nice and hard up your mouth, his tip bruising the back of your throat, your whimpers and moans are muffled by his cock as it makes you choke, you look up at him and his eyes are closed mouth agape as he moans… your own desires can’t be ignored as you keep grinding against his boot… the best way to describe this feeling is euphoria, you can’t even hear your own thoughts because they’re overpowered by the pleasure sounds your master is making and the disgusting sounds your mouth is making… your bringing him close to ecstasy.
“Shit!” He cries out and you realize breathing is no longer important in this situation, you want to please him and that the only thing that matters, he holds your head down as your nose rubs against his pubes, your own eyes rolling back “Yes yes yes yes yes” anakin is too far gone in the pleasure, his eyes roll back as a bead of sweat falls from his forehead, he growls and pushes his boot harder onto you clit “I’m gonna- Fuck im sorry I can’t help it!” You want to protest but it’s too late, his hot cum is already filling your throat. “That’s a g-good g-good… f-fucking girl- ah! My padawan” he spasms and finally lets go of your head… his cock pulsates inside your mouth and your release him and you see him shake… his breathing is heavy and he sees the tears streaming down your cheeks… he smiles, like a genuine smile that shows love and appreciation
“Thank you Y/n… oh shit that was amazing” you beam at his praise as usual, he really knows how to push your buttons.
“Master I want to cum” you pout at him, he has been teasing you but not actually giving you what you need and crave “What have I taught you about patience?” “That is overrated” he curses himself and takes you into his arms laying you down on the bed. “Fine… I’m going to fuck you” he rolls his eyes as if it was annoyed to do such task and you tickle his ribs at his teasing… he laughs and loses strength as he falls on top of you… you look up at him, you’ve never been this close before, his eyes are piercing into your soul… Anakin closes the gap and for the first time he kisses you… he moans into the kiss, it feels so right and your lips don’t move for half a second… he holds your cheek delicately and you kiss him back with as much love and desire as him.
“I can’t believe it took me so long to do that” he whispers and you give him your brightest smile “alright ass up” you giggle and he bops your nose and slides a pillow under your hips for a better angle “How do you want it love? Nice and slow or… master I can’t walk I might need to skip training today?” He mocks your voice and you give him an unamused look, if he can tease you you can also tease him.
Your legs wrap around his waist and you pull him closer “alright I get it… spread your legs for me” you do as he says and he taps his cock over your clit repeatedly, you can’t help but throw your head back, it’s so sensitive by all his previous teasing it makes you whine “I know you want it sweetheart, its just, you look so good when you’re needy” “if I knew my master was this cruel if would’ve gone to master kenobi instead” his eyes widen and his brows furrows “No” you expected him to laugh but it angers him “You’re mine, no one else’s” he positions your legs over his shoulders and slides in… your soaked cunt is pulling him in and your tightness pushes him out.. he chuckles when you shudder under him “So- fucking big” your eyes furrow prettily and your eyes roll back as he fills you up for the second time tonight “Yeah? You’re so fucking tight” his hips moves against you nice and slow, you feel every bit of him, your gummy walls massage his tip, he moans and hides his face on the crook of your neck…
Your gasps and moans are music to his ears, the prettiest a sound in the galaxy, unfortunately his noises are muffled by your skin but you want to hear him cry out… maybe another time… he groans and nips at your skin sucking and marking you “You feel so good inside me master… you fill me up so good, no one could make me feel like you do” his eyes shut tight as your words struck a nerve, you feel his hips falter as he loses his rhythm… you giggle but soon his thrusts become forceful as he hits your g spot with precision
“Shit!” “language” he teases and chuckles against your skin, you pull his locks painfully tight as he hisses “You like it? You like how deep I’m inside you? This time I’m able to look at your pretty face” he kisses you once again, your legs hold him tightly not giving him much space to move and fuck you harder, it’s your fault he has to be harsher and manhandle you
Your velvety walls constrict around his cock and he pulsates and pulsates, he feels his balls tighten… his cock kisses you cervix again and you cry out as you attempt to push him away “I know it hurts… don’t worry I’m going to take care of you” your arms tangle over his neck as your nails dig into his back and scratch, leaving little moon shaped marks all over his skin, he changes the angle and pounds you deeper, you didn’t know it was possible… this time his pubes rub deliciously over your clit “you’re not fooling anyone love, you like it rough, you like it nasty and even dangerous, showing yourself to everyone in a nasty gloryhole in coruscant, why would you put yourself in that situation baby? Huh? You liked the smell of sex and everyone having sex around you? Is that it? You’re as much of a pervert as I am, because if you’d come to me sooner I would’ve fucked you in your comfy bed like the pillow princess you are”
“Master!” You near your release and he’s been holding his for about 5 minutes now, he trembles over you but he can’t stop, he needs to please you “You’re gonna cum sweetheart? I need you to cum, you been milking your master’s cock the entire night it’s only right I make you cum too”
Your cries fill the room and your eyes roll back, it’s a sight for sore eyes “Thank your master Y/n, thank your master for fucking this creamy pussy”
“Thankyouthankyou-“ you moan incoherently “I’m going to fill you up sweetheart- what a good little p-padawan” your climax hits the both of you like a bus… making you grind against each other tiredly as your moans die down eventually, only heavy breathing is heard…
When you both grow quiet and only the sounds of an average late night at coruscant fill the atmosphere you wrap your arms around him, you’ve never seen anakin this tired before, he always has enough energy for a battle but seems like pussy is his weakness, you clench around him involuntarily and he whimpers
“Thank your Y/n this was… fuck it was”
“Me? Thank you for being a pervert” you beam and kiss his forehead “it was truly amazing… thank you master” he chuckles
“Me? A pervert? You’re a nympho princess, after everything I’ve taught you in all these years the only thing it stuck you was my cock” you roll your eyes at his comment
“Now you know how Master Kenobi feels” but then you think a little bit more about your comparison and you cringe anakin laughs against your skin
“You’re lucky you’re beautiful”
You smile brightly at him “youre pretty”
“Only pretty? C’mon sweetheart I want to be beautiful”
“Fine.. you’re beautiful” he gives your neck a little kiss
“Can you sleep here tonight?” You nod “Great because you leaving means I’d have to pull out”
“Don’t mention it, you’re my best friend!” Anakin gives you an angry look even though he knows he’s joking, he wants to be more than that, and actually he already is… And with a kiss he shuts you up…
masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers - @i92-93
(Hello! I want to credit @anakinsbbgirl for inspiring this stories, she’s insane and I love her)
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