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#but that’s okay that’s what he would’ve wanted
luveline · 1 day
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grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻
You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 
“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 
“Hi, mom.”  
You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 
“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 
“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 
“It’s him I’m calling about.” 
“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 
“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 
It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 
You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 
The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 
He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 
Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 
“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 
Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 
Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 
She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 
Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 
“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 
He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 
“What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 
He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 
You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 
He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 
“Let me sit you down,” he says. 
“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 
He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 
“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 
He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 
It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 
He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 
You close your eyes. 
“Rough day?” you ask. 
“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 
You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 
“How’s that?” 
“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 
“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 
“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”
“No, I know.” 
His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 
You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 
He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 
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reiding-writing · 2 days
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Hi congrats on the Milestone, for the event can i ask for prompts 15 and 16 (angsty ones) Ty! 💖💖
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EAVESDROP [CLIMACTERIC]
/ˈiːvzdrɒp/
15. "You heard that?”
16. "I didn't mean it.”
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WARNINGS: miscommunication (i hate and love miscommunication way too much), happy ending
spencer reid x gn!reader || fluff || 3.0k || event masterlist!!
a/n: when i said that these were going to be coming out slower i unfortunately meant it 😭 didn’t help that i had massive writer’s block with this one either rip—
main masterlist!!
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You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You just happened to get to the office early that morning and figured it’d be an opportune time to make yourself some coffee.
But once you heard your name in the mix of the conversation that Spencer and Morgan were having you found yourself waiting around the corner until they finished what they had to say.
“—should just ask,”
“That’s awkward, besides, if I was going to then it’d have to be something more meaningful,” You can hear Spencer sigh in exasperation as he shuts down Morgan’s suggestion, and your imagination tells you he probably has his face furrowed almost in a pout like he usually does when he’s frustrated.
“Then plan something, you can’t just wait for something to happen, you have to take action man,” Morgan sounds determined in his beliefs, and it leaves you with a furrowed expression as you try and piece together what they’re talking about and how it relates back to you.
Spencer wants to ask you something. In a ‘meaningful’ way. Because he’s been sitting around waiting for something for too long.
What?
“I know that,” Spencer lets out another sigh, and you can hear the sound of his mug hitting the kitchenette counter. “I’m just afraid that they’re going to turn me down, okay? I really like them and I want this to go well,”
If their conversation was a tv show you would’ve rewound it to hear what Spencer just said again.
Spencer Reid. Dr Spencer Walter Reid just openly admitted to liking you.
There’s a major part of your brain that tells you that he just meant it platonically, that he just really valued your friendship and didn’t want to ruin it by asking you whatever he was going to.
And then there was another part of your brain telling you that that was complete bullshit, because what kind of question could possibly be so bad that it would mean you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore?
It had to be something inherently romantic, or Spencer’s concerns wouldn’t make any logical sense, which was a very off brand thing for him.
“It’ll never ‘go well’ if you don’t actually ask,”
The small flutter in your heart only proves to increase at Morgan’s reply, and if you were an actual part of the conversation you’d agree with him.
You wanted Spencer to ask you whatever was plaguing his mind, whether it be to take you on a date somewhere or even if it’s just to get lunch with him on your shared break. Any step forward was a step in the right direction, and you wanted that next step.
He doesn’t.
The whole day goes by without a single peep from Spencer in relation to his little pep talk with Morgan in the morning, and it was beginning to frustrate you just a little.
Of course you wouldn’t actually be frustrated if you hadn’t overheard the conversation they were having, but that wasn’t your fault. It was like the fates were trying to bring you together.
And you were letting them drag you in whatever direction they deemed fit.
“Hey Spencer!” You catch him right as he steps into the elevator, and he sticks out a hand over the motion sensor to keep the door open for you.
“Hey,” Spencer gives you a small, awkwardly endearing smile as you join him inside the elevator, retracting his hand to grip the strap of his messenger bag.
“Thanks,” You let out a stuttered exhale as you catch your breath from the mild jog you made to reach the door, pulling on the shoulders of your shirt to straighten it back out.
“No problem,” He gives you another small smile, and then the conversation falls silent, the sound of the doors opening as the two of you reach the ground level being the only thing to break the stillness of your joined company.
You couldn’t really tel whether the lack of conversation was awkward or not, but you did know that the longer you were in his sole company the more that you wanted to oust your knowledge of his earlier conversation with Morgan, to the point where you were rehearsing how to bring it up in your head.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Spencer gives you a small wave as the two of you step out of the elevator and into the covered parking lot, stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning around to walk away before you can reply.
You swear you catch the tiniest glimpse of him mouthing something to himself with a furrowed expression as he turns around, like he’s berating himself for something, and your brain decides that it’s the perfect time to just go for it, his name tumbling out of your mouth to no consciousness of your own.
“Spencer—”
He turns around at your call and your throat goes dry, your impulsiveness biting you right in the ass as you lose your confidence immediately under his gaze. “Yeah?”
“You… uh-” You watch as his eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion, and you clear your throat to throw your inhibitions out the window. You couldn’t just not tell him now. “I overheard the conversation you were having this morning with Morgan, the uh… the one about me?”
You can practically see the colour drain from his face at your admission, and it immediately makes you regret bringing it up. He wasn’t ready yet.
“You-” He lets out a sharp exhale through his mouth, tugging at the strap of his back awkwardly. “You heard that?”
You give him a small guilty nod with your lips pressed together, and he sucks in a breath like he’s forgotten how to breathe. “How much of it did you hear..?”
“About… three quarters of it,”
He shuts his eyes, head dropping until the hair framing his face catches against his eyelashes.
Of course you’d heard it all. Because him stumbling over himself over how to properly approach you to Morgan wasn’t humiliating enough.
No, you just had to be there to hear it.
There went any minuscule chance he had of actually managing to build something with you. You probably thought he was some weirdo who had some stalkerish fantasy of you.
“Spencer—”
“I didn’t mean it.” Your attempt at elaborating was very quickly short lived as he cuts you off.
“I- What?”
“I didn’t- I was just saying that to get Morgan off my back about not dating anyone,” Spencer knows he’s speaking straight out of his ass, but it’s the only thing that he can think of to say to possibly salvage a fraction of your friendship with him without making everything weird. “I didn’t actually mean any of it-”
There’s a small pause, silence flooding the space between you until you feel like you’re drowning in it.
“Oh,” There’s a split second where the astonishment shows across your face, and Spencer swears he catches a glimpse of disappointment in your irises before it’s covered up with something else. “Right- Yeah no that makes sense he can be quite annoying about that stuff can’t he?”
He gives a pathetic laugh at your response. “Yeah…”
“Well I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then…” There’s no mistaking the awkward tension between the two of you as you rifle in your pocket for your car keys.
“Yeah… See you tomorrow…”
“I messed up. I messed up really bad.” Morgan barely has time to leave the elevator before Spencer is practically dragging him into the conference room to speak to him privately, without any chance of their conversation being heard.
“Well good morning to you too boy genius,”
“I’m serious Morgan, this is really bad-” Spencer’s face conveys absolute desperation, almost bordering patheticness from just how rifled he seems.
“Okay okay damn,” Morgan raises his arms in surrender, a silent vow to take Spencer’s worries seriously.
“They overheard our conversation, the one about me being afraid to ask them out.” Spencer sighs in absolute indignation, taking a hand through his hair with an expression like his doctor just told him he wasn’t going to wake up tomorrow morning.
“Oh-” Morgan’s eyes widen slightly at Spencer’s confession, straightening up and furrowing his eyebrows. “And?”
“And I told them that I was just saying I wanted to ask them out to get you off my back about dating-”
Morgan’s shoulders drop, and he narrows his eyes slightly in a mix of confusion and absolute astoundment that he would fumble the bag that hard. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I didn’t want things to get awkward, but when they walked into the office this morning they didn’t even say good morning and we’ve been sat in a stalemate for almost ten minutes which suggests that they didn’t believe what I said and I did make it awkward and-”
“Reid-” Morgan holds up a hand to stop Spencer’s rambling mid-sentence. “Slow your roll a minute, what actually happened?”
“They caught me on the way out of the elevator to the parking lot yesterday and told me that they overheard our conversation,” Spencer drags his hand down his face in exasperation. “And I panicked and said that I didn’t mean it and that it was just to get you to stop asking me about my dating life, so that it wouldn’t make our friendship awkward…”
He exhales heavily, leaning his body weight against the conference table in defeat. “But I don’t think they believed me, and now they’re acting like I’m a stranger to them and I don’t know what to do,”
“Right… Okay,” Morgan takes a few seconds to take in the information through furrowed eyebrows. “And you’re sure it’s because they don’t believe you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It was Spencer’s turn to furrows his features at Morgan’s response. What else could it possibly be to do with?
“Look, I’m not going to say anything, but you need to come clean and talk to them, right now.”
“What—” Spencer barely gets the question out of his mouth before Morgan is leaving his side to open the door of the conference room and yelling your name across the bullpen to bring you over.
“What are you doing?” Spencer Whisper-yells through his teeth as he watches you approach from over Morgan’s shoulder, and he watches the way your curiosity turns to begrudgement as you realise that Morgan wasn’t the only one there.
You literally fizzled out after realising that Spencer was there, what else was he supposed to think?
“You two need to have a conversation,” Morgan points between the two of you before tugging you into the room by your forearm. “I am going to stand outside that door and you are not allowed to leave until you’ve spoken to each other properly, no bullshit. You hear me?”
It feels like you and Spencer are two five year olds as Morgan looks between you, but you both nod stuntedly either way, and true to his word, Morgan leaves the room and leans his weight against the closed door so you can’t push it open to leave.
“So…”
“So-”
The tension between the two of you is palpable as you both try to start the conversation at the same time, but the fact that you were so similar in your awkward attempts at breaking the silence makes you laugh a little, which in turn makes Spencer laugh as well.
It was a little silly, but you were both glad for the break in the stalemate you’d put yourselves in, even if just for that moment before you found yourselves surrounded by silence once more, albeit a slightly more comfortable one.
“Well… Uh…”
“I’m sorry I assumed you liked me, romantically I mean,” You cut off Spencer’s awkward attempt at breaking the silence with your own blurted excuse. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward between us I just thought—” You cut yourself short before you can finish to save yourself from your own embarrassment.
Spencer can only blink at your apology.
“I— What?”
“When I cornered you in the parking lot yesterday, I should’ve known it was just Morgan bothering you, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” You clasp your hands behind your back, nervously wringing your hands together.
So it wasn’t because you didn’t believe him. You did. And you looked… upset about it? Dejected maybe? Spencer couldn’t be quite sure, but whatever emotion you were displaying it wasn’t something objectively positive.
“I— You didn’t—” Spencer exhales heavily through his mouth, clenching his hands into fists as he internally fights with himself over whether to just spit it out and get it over with.
‘You need to come clean’.
Morgan sounded extremely assured in his statement when he directed Spencer earlier, like he knew what the outcome was going to be.
It wasn’t a case of ‘come clean because the truth is better than lying’, it was a ‘come clean because whatever happens afterwards isn’t going to be negative’.
“I lied to you,”
Spencer’s brain always worked faster than his body, but apparently he’d managed to override his own instincts and let his mouth make the decision for him before he could think through all of the possible consequences.
“…What?” The traces of disappointment in your eyes are diluted by a mix of surprise and confusion as you turn them up to his, and Spencer feels his throat dry out almost immediately.
“I wasn’t trying to get Morgan off my back, I…” Spencer lets out another small sigh. “I really was asking him for advice, I… I really like you, a lot, and I just didn’t know how to tell you without ruining our friendship so Morgan was trying to help,” He lets out a small laugh, his fingers raking through his hair animatedly as he laments his own patheticness. “It didn’t go very well, clearly,”
There’s a small pause after his confession, the silence settling in Spencer’s chest and making him feel nauseous as he waits for a sign of how you’re going to respond.
The blankness on your face isn’t very reassuring.
“You’re being serious?”
“…mhm…” Practically all of the conviction in Spencer’s tone disappears at your question, and he half-wishes that he could travel back in time so this conversation never happened.
“I like you too Spencer,”
“I underst—” Spencer lowers his head as he dejectedly accepts your rejection. Except it’s not a rejection. “What?”
“I like you too,” You repeat yourself with determination, your eyes practically boring holes into his, and he swears he can feel his knees trying to buckle underneath him.
“You uh… Really?” Spencer blinks at you like a deer in headlights, his genius brain seemingly unable to comprehend how the conversation, one Spencer was sure would end in your rejection and end with the two of you as practical strangers, somehow turned into this.
You give him a firm nod. “I’d like to go out with you Spencer, on a date, anywhere you like,” Your confidence starkly contrasts his shattered composure as you give him your proposal like you’re presenting in a board meeting. Although he’s sure it’s almost entirely feigned, and the way you fiddle with your fingers is evidence enough of his theory. “Please?”
There’s a tinge of desperation in your tone as you add your small plea at the end, and it makes Spencer realise that he’s just blankly staring at you.
“I— Yes— Yes I’d love to go on a date with you Uh—” Spencer thoroughly stumbles over his words in his rush to wipe the traces of doubt in your features. “I’d really like that…”
“Good— Good,” You let out a short laugh of relief at his answer, and he echoes it with your own as you stand in a shared dome of fluster together.
“Do you want to get lunch? Uh, together?” The way Spencer phrases the question was like a middle schooler trying to ask out their crush rather than a grown man, but it only makes the sentiment more endearing.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Your answer is joined by a soft laugh that echoes from the back of your throat, and it makes Spencer’s heart flutter.
“Okay,” Spencer returns your chuckle with his own, gesturing curtiously towards the closed door like a true gentleman, and you have to suppress the urge to stamp a kiss against his pink cheeks as you pass him to push it open.
There’s less resistance than there should be as you push it open, with Morgan decidedly having left the two of you to your own devices to return to his desk without either of you realising.
He shoots the two of you a wink and a thumbs up as you walk down the stairs, and Spencer’s cheeks turn a slightly darker shade of red at the ‘unfortunate’ realisation that he’s due in for a whole load of jests and teases from him going forward.
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somerandomdudelmao · 2 days
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okay but the thing about ppl being upset over oscar siding with the marmors is that it isn’t JUST that he sided with them
it’s that he did it so easily
there wasn’t any REAL signs of hesitation or regret. sure if he wasn’t prompted or coerced into doing so i doubt he would’ve, but it’s the fact that he just didn’t really seem to care if they died all that much. it felt like it was more of an unfortunate circumstance to him over anything else
the thing abt spoiled rich people is that they’re inherently selfish. they care about one person, themselves, and it doesn’t matter who’s effected or who has to go down to get what they want. they gain by taking away from others.
he was willing to go along with whatever the marmors asked of him if it meant he got to stay on top.
he didn’t even look away
he watched them die too easily.
I have to say, I love how the moment it was revealed that Oscar was rich, that was it. The way people perceive him has permanently changed. Oh no he's rich. There's no going back. JdrjnahahA
Your take is absolutely great I Iove it>:)
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leonsbimbogf · 2 days
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I adore you, I swear.
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🍃! Plug! Miguel O'Hara x reader !🍃
A/n: I got an ask about a plug Miguel x reader but my laptop crashed and I lost the ask. I'm so sorry stinky butt but here it is 🤞🙁, but dw this is only part one the next part is smut🙏. btw credits to JesGreenEight on Deviant art for the banner! ngl it might be short.
cw: miggy fw's u heavily 😼, reader's kinda like shy when they around him, weed, a cheesy porn plot boo me all y'all want!!
You needed to get some weed from none other than your dealer Miguel O'Hara. There was no problem having a favorite client but you were different. With your timid voice and shy actions, you had him swooning. Lately having alone time has been pretty tough on you and you needed a release, the sad thing was, you didn't have any money. You thought to yourself,
 “how can I even buy weed if I barely have any money” 
you pick up your phone and you start to text your dealer. 
Y/n: hii do you still have any left? :((
He immediately texts back. Before you can even close your phone. He was into you but can you even realize that he wants you? His favorite client. 
Secret Spidey: So needy for weed? Come to the same spot. I’ll be there in 20.
You rushed to change. Even if you were in a hurry you didn’t wanna look bad at least. You quickly noticed what was the point. It’ll be quick. you put on a jacket as you walk out of your apartment. You walk to your destination, the back of an abandoned corner store. Usually, you two would meet in his car but since it’s under repair he used his motorcycle to meet you. He doesn’t treat you like other clients, He even offers to smoke in his car with you. If you were some other client he would’ve given you only just weed and a cold glare with it. As he walks up to you you both realize how he was much taller than you and most definitely towering over you.  
“Hey, Miguel..”
 you say with a bit of a grin. 
“Oh bunny, what's up, you told me you needed some right? 
“Bunny? Where in the hell did this nickname come from?” Your thoughts cloud your head as you think about all of this, how close he was to you, the cute nicknames, how his eyes practically show hearts in them when they look at you.  
he puts his hand on your back and smiles as he does you start shaking slightly from a cold breeze hitting the back of your neck. you were gonna ask a stupid question and you knew he would get a bit pissy. 
“Miguel.. uhm..I was wondering if you can give me..some for free..you don’t have to it's just-“ you say ranting, hoping for him to at least hear you out on why you want the free deal. He cuts you off with a sudden deep sigh. He looks you in your eyes and in reaction, you put your head down immediately. 
“Aren’t you just the cutest huh?” He says with a faint chuckle before disappearing. Before you can even get a single word in, you open your mouth and something comes out but yet again he cuts you off. 
“Don’t worry your pretty little head yea? I’ll get you some weed, I just need you to do something for me..” your eyes light up with interest then he smiles at your eagerness. He always had eyes for you and you were just his type.
“Okay I can help but how so?” you asked biting your lip. you pray that he would say something back that you would like. It sounded like a cheesy porno but honestly, he was attractive and so were you. You have known this man for years so what’s the harm in that? you guys are just two people wanting to have a release and maybe more. Who knows?
this was my old taglist but here you go pookies ♥: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @chiwhorei
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slytherinshua · 3 days
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HOLD ME CLOSE
genre. comfort. warnings. reader had a really bad day (unspecified reason). pairing. best friend!anton x fem!reader. wc. 417. request. no. a/n. kinda wrote this randomly like 2 nights ago i think?? it's rly short and im not sure if it's any good but it's here anyway lol
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“Can I hug you?”
You had just gotten back home from possibly the worst night of your entire life, and seeing your roommate in the kitchen in his pyjamas and hoodie pulled over his head made your heart clench in your chest. The question slipped out before you had time to think about what you were about to say to your best friend who you’d never had any amount of prolonged skinship with in your entire 4 years of knowing him (though not for a lack of wanting to).
Anton was silent for a second, slightly shocked by your question, and still holding a spoon in his hand from his long empty bowl of cereal. His brain couldn’t exactly process your question before his eyes flitted to your face and he was nodding quickly. He probably would’ve interrogated you or even teased you about it given how unusual it was, but you looked like you desperately needed to be held tightly, and all Anton cared about suddenly was making sure you were okay. 
You were glad he didn’t say anything, because you probably would’ve burst into tears if he had. You weren’t ready to talk about why you felt so awful— all you craved for was silent comfort. Relief flooded through you as soon as Anton wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you close to his chest.
You closed your eyes and hugged him back, focusing on evening your breath to his in order to calm down. The right side of your face rested over his heart, and you could hear it beating steadily, maybe a tiny bit faster than usual, but you didn’t focus on it. 
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. It felt so comfortable, so right, in his arms that time seemed to slow. It felt like even breathing too loudly would completely break the moment, so Anton worked extremely hard to keep his breath soft.
He wasn’t sure what or who had made your night turn sour, but he was determined to be there to make it better; not just now, but in the future as well. He hadn’t realized it before, but as he held you close in his arms, noticing how perfectly you fit in them, as if you were made for it, he realized you had been the only one in his heart for some time. And he hoped you would be the last person he held, and the last to fill every corner of his heart.
↳ riize taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,,
@blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,,
@seunghancore,, @planetkiimchi
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harstyle · 21 hours
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the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
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I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 
“Of course.” 
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
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the-witheredroses · 3 days
Text
Pt. 2
TW: angst/comfort, reader cries a little and is mentioned to have been in therapy
<< Previous | Next>>
The silence was agonizing. The air felt drowning and heavy. It didn’t help that no one could look at each other.
Soap and you have migrated to the couch after realizing that the conversation probably should be had while sitting.
How are any of you meant to address any of this?
Each of you knew just enough to fill in the blanks, but how is-
“So…” Johnny broke the silence and your train of thought. “How do you all know each other?”
“Really, Soap? That’s how you want to start this?” Gaz remarked, letting his grievance show.
“Aye! How else ye expect this to go?! How ye think I feel knowin’ ye’ve shagged my lass?”
“Jesus Christ…” you groan as you hide behind your hands.
“Not everyone-“ Simon murmured leaning back in with his arms crossed.
“Simon!” You exclaim, revealing your warmed cheeks to everyone.
“Well with the way ye look at ‘er I would’ve guessed otherwise-“
“Okay- no, that’s it-“ you stand in front of them all, pointing as you addressed each. “You- Simon, are meant to be dead, I went to your funeral. Fucks sake, I visit those graves everytime I drive past them!”
Simon couldn’t stand to defend himself, because he knew that already. He’d seen you talking to his and his family’s graves every now and then when he went to see them himself. It had torn him apart to not reveal he was alive, but he’d convinced himself it was for your sake. Even if that meant you’d shed more tears.
“You pushed me away for months before ultimately saying that you needed to move for work, that you couldn’t be with me anymore-“ your eyes still held the hurt from long ago as you gazed at Kyle.
“It wasn’t a complete lie…” Kyle scratched at his head, his poor attempt to redeem himself falling flat.
“Shut it, Garrick. You-“ your finger landed on Price, “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town? I assume you’ve been back for a while, so why didn’t you say anything?”
John knew he had no excuse, so he didn’t attempt to deny his reasoning. “Though’ ye might’ve been with yer other man…”
A hefty exhale escapes you as you hold back from saying more. You could slap him, because how, after all this time, does he not see himself as enough? Instead, your gaze landed on Johnny.
“And you, Johnny, you didn’t really do anything, but still, this could’ve never happened if you or John just told me who else was on the team.”
“Or told us who ye were dating.” Kyle muttering was directed to Johnny, but it earned side eye from you.
“Moral of the story,” you continued, “all of you have been keeping things from me. And now we’re here… and I don’t know what to do or say…” your voice broke a little from the festering emotions. Everyone was quick to their feet to comfort you, John worming his way to the front.
“Aye, lass, there’s no need to cry. We just need to talk this out.” John’s hands cupped your cheeks as the tears threatened to spill. “Maybe we should take a break, take a breather. Later, we can talk one on one with you and each other.”
You nod as you try to calm yourself, doing the short breathing exercises you learned from therapy.
John placed a soft kiss to your forehead before being pushed aside by Johnny. His arms quickly envelop you and he kisses your temple.
“Common lass, let’s get ye out of here for a bit…” Johnny whispered and pulled you into the bedroom, leaving the other men standing in a circle, stuck their own thoughts…
————
Idk what to call this series so feel free to leave some suggestions!
Also didn’t want to make this series too angsty, but reader is definitely gonna need some one-on-one time with each of the boys…
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Note
Absolutely loved your Lucifer x Son reader!! Can we get a part 2? Im eager to see how Charlie and the gang may react!
Hello Anon! Here’s my take on what would’ve happened in the aftermath. As requested. Wasn’t really planning on making more content relating to this Au, but here we are! This is the last one, I hope. The gang haven’t met (Name) so they won’t be included in this.
Enjoy (。•̀ᴗ-)✧
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Lucifer was basically contemplating every bad decision he's ever made in his life as he stares at the face of his unconscious son.
He barely managed to save (Name)’s wing by reattaching it, but it'll take a while before it's usable again.
Coat and hat off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair disheveled from running his fingers through it in his moment of stress.
Eyes rimmed red from crying, cheeks stained with tears as he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the heavy feeling you usually get from crying so much.
He practically started having a mental breakdown the moment he knew that (Name)’s life wasn’t in any immediate danger. It wasn’t until a few minutes ago that he finally calmed down.
Sitting on a chair next to his son's bed, Lucifer sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He hasn't told Charlie yet. He doesn't really know how he should go about explaining what happened at the palace without freaking her out.
Wounds inflicted by angelic steel take longer to heal. He doesn’t know how long it would take for (Name) to wake up. It’s been about 3 hours since the attack, and he’s been restless ever since.
Still no sign of movement from (Name) as he lays motionless on his bed. The only way Lucifer could tell that he’s even still alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Running his fingers through his hair as he stood up from his chair, reaching for his phone in his pocket, he hesitated to call Charlie. He didn’t know how to disclose the situation to her. There’s no easy way of doing this. I mean- how do you go about telling your child that her brother could possibly end up in a coma after being attacked by bloodthirsty psycho angels! That’s ridiculous! Everything about this is ridiculous! He’s ridiculous! He’s literally the King of Hell! He should’ve done more to ensure the protection of his son! If he just had the time to construct a barrier around his home then maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. If he hadn’t been in a hurry to go save Charlie, he would’ve given it more thought. The fact that (Name) would be left defenseless all by himself with no one to help him. It’s basically a miracle that he even managed to survive all by himself. What with his inexperience in life or death fights. What kind of father would he be if he can’t even protect his children from harm! An incompetent one, he thinks.
His hands shake as he grips his phone. Taking a deep breath, he presses on Charlie’s contact and hopes that everything goes well.
“Dad! Thank goodness you’re okay! I’ve been trying to call you ever since you left in a hurry earlier- Is everything alright?” Just hearing Charlie’s voice over the phone makes him want to cry again.
He swallows the lump in his throat, “I-I’m okay, sweetie! It’s just- uhh,” just say it dammit! That’s her brother! She needs to know! “It’s (Name). He- he’s not doing good at the moment.” He cringes at his attempt.
“What?! Is he okay?! What happened?”
“He-,” his throat felt dry as he swallowed, “the palace was attacked.”
“WHAT?! Is (Name) okay?!” Her panicked voice could be heard over the phone. He tried to breathe properly to not breakout into another panic attack. “Dad?! Why aren’t you saying anything?!! You’re scaring me!”
“He’s-,” he winces at the break in his voice before clearing his throat, “He’s okay now! I managed to get here on time before he-,” his voice cracked again as tears wells up in his eyes.
The other side of the line goes silent for a bit. Charlie most definitely heard his pathetic attempt at trying to compose himself.
He clears his throat again, “His wounds are healing. But I don’t know when he’ll wake up.” He settled with. His voice raspy from crying.
On the other side of the line, Vaggie was standing next to Charlie, comforting her as she processes the information she just received. It was just them two in the lobby. Everybody else was either out or resting in their new rooms.
“Do you need me to come over, Dad?” Charlie asks.
“No need for that, apple pie- I’ll stay here until he recovers. You need to stay at your hotel. I can handle it. Promise.”
“Okay,” she swallows, forcing back her tears, “Call me if you need to. Okay, Dad?”
“Of course. Goodbye, sweetie.”
“Bye-,” he hangs up.
“Everything okay, babe?” Asks Vaggie, “You seem pretty worried.”
“Worried? Me? Pshh- no! Not at all! I mean- it’s not like the angels attacked my Dad’s castle and put my brother in a coma!-,” Charlie rambles.
“What?!” Vaggie yells in shock, “Is he okay?”
“Dad said that he’s okay. (Name)’s just resting-,” Charlie starts pulling at her hair. “Why would they attack him! He didn’t have anything to do with any of this!”
Vaggie doesn’t say anything. She just takes Charlie by the hand and takes her to their room as Charlie continues to worry about her brother. Which is valid cuz like- (Name)’s her brother-
When they reach their room, Vaggie takes Charlie by the hand and leads to bed.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay. He’s got your father’s blood flowing through his veins, no? He’ll wake up before you know it- Trust me.”
Charlie sniffles, “You really think so?”
Vaggie nods, “I know so. Now- why don’t we rest and cuddle. We’ve had a long day. I think we deserve some rest, don’t you think?”
Vaggie then helps Charlie change into pajamas as they both lay in each other’s arms in bed.
“Feeling better?” Vaggie asks.
Charlie nods, “I just hope he wakes up soon.” As they both continue cuddling in bed.
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Imma be honest y’all. This isn’t my best work. Didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped. Kinda lost motivation half way through. Not sure if you can tell. But anyway! Here’s how I thought it would go. Hope y’all like it! Stay healthy and keep hydrated! ∠(ᐛ 」∠)
Bye babes!
-DebonairPrince
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Heartbreaker - M. R. x male!Reader
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A/N: It’s an angsty day today! Fic is completely unedited with no use of Y/N. Let me know if y’all want a part two 💛
CW: mentions of hooking up; miscommunication; heartbreak; unofficial breaking up? (Is it a breakup if you weren’t really together?); Mattheo being an awkward idiot; crying; talk of love; angsty thoughts
442 words
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“Hey, Mattheo. Don’t look now, but your boyfriend’s headed this way.”
Theo’s words send a quiet thrill through your heart as you approach the boys. You and Mattheo aren’t officially together yet, but you’ve been hooking up for almost three months now. You have high hopes to be his boyfriend soon.
Mattheo’s next words shatter your heart, though. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a hookup, guys.”
Enzo blanches. Theo winces. Mattheo goes still.
He turns around, a smile plastered across his face. “Oh. Hey.”
You give Mattheo a hurt look. “Just a hookup, huh?”
He falters for words. “Well— I— I mean, that’s what you are…”
Both Enzo and Theo grimace. You wilt like a cut flower, your puppy eyes turning downcast.
“Alright.” You mumble. “Whatever then. I’m just gonna…”
You turn away and start walking, feeling utterly dejected.
Mattheo hesitates, then follows after you. “Hey, wait. Come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”
You stop and turn to face him, giving him a wounded look like he’s never seen before. “What did you mean then?”
“It’s just…” Mattheo scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “We’re not official, you know? I don’t want people getting the wrong idea.”
You go quiet and still. The wrong idea? Was he saying…
“Oh. Um, okay.” You laugh a little, your eyes stinging. “I get it.”
Mattheo frowns, a worried look crossing his face. “Hey, love…”
He only calls you love when you’re hooking up. Before it would’ve made your chest thrill with excitement. Now it just hurts.
You back away, gripping your arm in an effort to will your tears away. “It’s fine. It’s fine. Um… I gotta… I gotta go…”
Mattheo steps towards you. “Love, wait, please… You know I didn’t mean it like that…”
“You probably—“ Your voice catches in your throat. “You probably shouldn’t call me that anymore. Wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea, you know?”
Mattheo’s face falls. He looks crushed. “But…”
You can’t hold back your tears any longer so you turn and walk away. It hurts everything in you. Shatters your heart to pieces.
Tears start to roll down your cheeks as you turn the corner and leave his sight. Only then do you let yourself quietly cry.
You’d wanted so badly for Mattheo to be your boyfriend. You’d thought he’d felt the same. Thought he’d loved you just as much as you loved him.
But oh, how wrong you were.
You weren’t special just because you were a boy, instead of his usual girls. You were just a hookup. Just a casual thing. Something insignificant.
It hurts more than you’d ever admit.
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hugsandchaos · 3 days
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Day 3
Summary: So Danny’s injury is almost completely healed and the group goes through the portal to a random world, but that’s not important. What matters is that our little ghost blob finally gets a name!
Word Count: 4,414
Danny woke up the next day feeling surprisingly better, but at the same time, still tired. Then again, that was a normal thing since forever, not just after the incident. He was a little surprised that he’d actually gotten some sleep this time, even though he’d kept waking up three random times. It was early again, so he considered going back to sleep, but decided against it. This time, Sky was up covering the last shift before morning. He didn’t seem like a morning person at all.
Maybe Danny should share some of his precious, limited supply of caffeine?
The young halfa stretched and twisted his body before he stood up, unintentionally popping his back like there were fireworks in there. Sky had asked him if he was okay and laughed a little, and Danny smiled and nodded. Then he picked up his backpack that he’d once again used as a pillow and left for the ruins to get what privacy he could get to change his bandages and put his binder back on.
While he was in the dark room, only using the flashlight from his phone, Danny took a moment to think again. The other day sucked a lot, but he got some confirmation from being temporarily sick that might’ve made it worth it.
First, Hyrule’s little rant was something Danny hadn’t expected, but the way Hyrule repeatedly asked to let him know when he started to show symptoms left Danny with the impression that the group often neglected their health. The young halfa would’ve felt bad if the gratitude that slipped into his voice when he assured Hyrule that he would was fake, but it wasn’t.
Second, when Danny started showing symptoms, it came so suddenly that he was thinking at first that it was an early caffeine crash. Maybe it was part of it, though. Hyrule practically jumped to try to help him, reaching into his brown bag to search for some non magical medicine, but Danny beat him to it.
He opened his own backpack, careful not to let anyone see the little ghost blob, and reached for some of the medicine that Jazz insisted he bring with him just incase before he left. After spending probably five minutes rereading the same descriptions over and over and thinking of what he was experiencing, he finally chose to swallow a pill to help with migraines.
His stomach was felt like it was swirling around, and it didn’t help with his dizzy and suddenly fatigued he felt, but in his opinion, migraines were the worst. After that, Danny put his books away and walked over to sit by a tree under the shade, saying that he was going to wait for the effects to wear off. He had his backpack in his lap so he could keep the ghost blob close and rest his head on it. The young halfa had no plans to fall asleep, only to rest his eyes, but he ended up doing that anyways before he knew it.
When Sky woke him up, it didn’t just startle Danny because he was touching him, but because he didn’t realize he fell asleep. The realization scared him, but then he noticed that nothing happened to him. In fact, they’d mostly left him alone and went off to do their own things quietly. He was a little touched that they’d gotten non-magic food. After that, he drifted right back to sleep for almost another hour. Miraculously, it was the best sleep he’s had in a while.
Also, what was up with that weird man with the hat in his dream?
If they’d wanted to do any harm to him, they definitely would’ve done it by now while he was at a low point, while he was sick and injured.
Unless that’s an act, too.
That thought made Danny shake his head a little. The looks on their faces when they realized magic could make him sick after breakfast and when he started showing symptoms hadn’t seemed fake. He should give them a real chance.
But he’d been tricked before.
No. They were his best bet at getting home, and so far, they’ve been nothing but nice and considerate. He wasn’t going to let his guard down completely, but he wasn’t going to be a self isolating jerk, either.
“What do you think, little guy? Think they deserve a chance?” Danny asked, wrapping the bandages around the injury, which was recovering very well thanks to his fast healing. It would probably be gone by tonight at this rate. The blob ghost warbled in agreement and even sort of “said” that their emotions the other day towards him were genuine.
As a half ghost, it was sometimes a little bit harder for Danny to sense emotions the way normal ghosts did, especially while in human form, so this was helpful confirmation from the wisp. A small weight lifted from his shoulders.”If you say so.” He said. He put the jacket away after golfing it and started putting the rest of the armor covering his upper body back on. As he was doing this, a realization came to him. He glanced at the bag.
“Actually, do you have a name? I can’t believe I just asked you this now.” He asked.
The ghost blob gave him a negative response.
“How about a nickname, then? I can’t just call you “ghost blob” the whole time. I mean, I can, but that just doesn’t sit right with me. It feels rude, you know?” Danny suggested. He knew it wasn’t exactly fun to just be called “ghost” the whole time you’re talking to someone. Now and then is okay, along with certain variations of the name like “Spooks” for example, but being addressed by just “ghost” every single time gets a little annoying. The ghost blob trilled in agreement with the idea.
Danny hummed and began thinking about possible names. Blobby and Bob were a straight up no, along with death related names. This ghost blob was kind and sweet. Something death related would give the wrong impression and be insulting. A lot of ghost names that came to mind like “Casper” were just too cheesy. He looked at the ghost blob nestling on his jacket to see if anything fitting would pop into his mind.
And something did! It was odd that it was the first thing Danny thought, but maybe it would work?“How do you feel about Orbit?” He asked.
The ghost blob chirped. Well, Orbit now.
“Oh, good, because half the names that came to mind are space related.” Danny chuckled. He reached into the bag and rummaged around for another energy drink. Orbit flew out of the backpack and made themself comfortable nestled in his hair while he did so. Once he found one, he felt around for another and counted in his head.”Only three left?!” Danny exclaimed, probably with more shock than there’d be in a normal person’s voice.
Call him a caffeine addict, but he suddenly wanted to get home even more. Orbit warbled in question as Danny pulled one of them out and opened it, both sounds echoing in the small space.
“I’ll be extra tired and irritable, that’s what’ll happen.” Danny answered before taking a sip. After swallowing some, he started to stand up.“We should head back.” He said. Not needing any instruction, Orbit flew into the backpack and sat on his jacket. The poor fellow was probably wanting to stay outside longer. Danny decided he would have to find a way to get alone time for longer periods, preferably without the group getting suspicious.
He zipped the backpack up and used his only free hand to pick it up and wiggled a little to get it on. He walked out of the room, left the ruins, and was a little surprised to see the rest of the group was already awake and getting ready to eat. Except Twilight wasn’t there for some reason. Danny couldn’t see him in the rising orange light from the sun, or in the shadows that were a bit darker than when the young halfa left. Maybe he just went for an early morning walk or something.
Danny was quickly handed a morning meal by Wild when he got closer.”Thank you.” Danny said. Wild nodded and smiled a little, then went to go sit and eat his own meal. Some of the members still seemed to be waking up, and Sky was one of them. After spotting him, Danny walked over to him and showed him the energy drink.“Want some? You seemed pretty tired and grumpy earlier, so unless you plan on getting a nap in today, I think you might want a sip.” He offered.
He tried to ignore some of the others turning to look at them. Sky took the can and looked at it confused. He turned it around in his hand, careful not to spill it through the opening.
“What is it?” The hylian asked. He sounded slightly hesitant, which was fair. Danny had gotten sick just yesterday from one of their foods. Maybe offering it was actually a bad idea.
“Energy drink. It has eighty milligrams of caffeine in it.” Danny replied.
Sky looked up at him a little surprised, but smiled.“Eighty? No thanks, that might be too much for me.” Sky said, handing the drink back to Danny.”Thanks for the offer, though.” He said.
Danny shrugged a little.“Suit yourself.” He said, then proceeded to take a sip. The others were still staring at him as he went and sat down by the same tree he fell asleep against yesterday to eat, careful not to squish his backpack any. He’d managed to skip dinner the other night, but something told him that he wouldn’t be so convincing this time. Besides, he really was hungry. The young halfa felt a little exposed until they finally turned their attention to something else.
Since Danny didn’t see anyone jump or pull out their swords, he thought it was fine, though. So he put the energy drink down next to him, pausing to make sure it would fall over, then began to eat.
About halfway through his meal, a black nose came into view and started sniffing the food. Danny turned to see Wolfie was back.“Oh, you’re back.” Danny said. Looking at the wolf again, he instantly remembered his first conclusion about Twilight. He pushed that thought down. He still didn’t want to make those assumptions just yet, and it was early.
Danny was going to wait and observe first. After breakfast and caffeine, obviously. Wolfie looked at him and tilted his head, then slowly came closer to get a better sniff at his food. Danny lifted an arm against his chest and shoulders to stop him from being able to lean any further.”Sorry, but no. I don’t know if any of this is safe for dogs.” He said. Wolfie quickly pulled his head up to look at Danny, almost offended by his words.
Danny lifted his free hand up as if surrendering.“Hey, I know you’re not a dog, but you’re still related on an evolutionary and biological level. So we’re not risking it.” He explained. Wolfie was still for a bit, looking thoughtful, before nodding. He turned to sit down next to him. Danny returned to eating in silence, and once he was done, he grabbed the energy drink and downed it.
The cloud of sleepiness still hovering in his head would clear soon enough. He got his backpack off and held it on the opposite side of Wolfie, who turned to him and looked at the bag. Danny briefly glanced at him. Animals were known for seeing or sensing ghosts, and he really hoped that if he knew, he wouldn’t spill the secret or try to eat Orbit. If he even could. Danny put the empty energy drink in the same place as the one from the day before.
After that, he zipped it up and looked at Wolfie.”Sooo, do you want something?” He asked. Wolfie huffed and pointed at the back with his head.”No, you’re not eating anything in there.” Danny said blankly.
He was met with a disapproving look. From a wolf.
Wolfie huffed again and turned to leave, but Danny noticed something as his head turned. He reached out and placed his hand on the wolf’s back.”Wait.” He said, suddenly serious. Wolfie stopped and turned to face him as his expression shifted.”Open your mouth again real quick, please.” Danny requested. Wolfie looked confused, but did as he asked and opened his mouth. Not as wide as he probably could, but definitely enough that the halfa noticed the glint in the sunlight as he turned.
There was a piece of metal in his mouth, wedged between some of his back teeth.
“How did that get in there?” Danny half muttered. He turned over to his backpack and unzipped it.“I’ll make you a deal, Wolfie.” He said, reaching past Orbit and into the first aid bag that held more than a regular kit.”I need you to stay still for a bit, and if you can do that, I’ll give you some of my lunch if it’s safe for wolves.” He said. He found a very small brown bag that had different kinds of tweezers and forceps, courtesy of his parents. He grabbed one of the tweezers and pulled it out of his backpack.
When Danny zipped his backpack up and looked back at Wolfie, he looked a little surprised and even nervous. He’d closed his mouth and reared his head back some.”Oh, don’t worry, these are just tweezers. You want that piece of metal out, right?” Danny said, hoping it would comfort the animal. He was no animal expert, that honor would be better suited for Sam, but he doubted the wolf was comfortable with it.
After a moment’s hesitation, Wolfie nodded and leaned forward. He opened his mouth to allow Danny access to the piece of metal.“Alright, I’ll try to make this quick.” Danny said. Wolfie still looked a little uneasy, but did as Danny said earlier and remained still. It was amazing how expressive the wolf was.
Danny used one hand to stay balanced on the ground while the other went just past the entrance of the wolf’s jaws and teeth. Danny kept his hand as steady as he could as he focused on moving the tweezers closer to the piece of metal without grazing the teeth or gums.
Ancients, this wolf needed a mint.
Luckily for both of them, Danny successfully grabbed the piece of broken metal. He counted down under his breath, then began pulling on the metal, careful not to use too much strength. Danny was pleased to see that it came out quickly.
Wolfie let out a brief whine when he got it out and flinched, but had great enough self control to not bite or pull back. A quick scan at the sight showed no signs of infection or damage to the teeth or gums, not that the young halfa could see.
“Sorry, buddy, but I got it out.” Danny said, pulling the tweezers out and showing the canine the piece of metal that had been wedged between some of his teeth. Wolfie looked at it surprised and closed his mouth. Then he shifted his gaze to look at Danny as he dropped the piece onto a tiny ziplock bag. He’d properly throw it away later.“...What?“ Danny asked when the wolf didn’t look away.
Wolfie nudged his head under Danny’s arm and shuffled a little closer to place his head on Danny’s shoulder. Wolfie’s tail wagged twice, making rustling sounds in the grass. Danny smiled and held his arm around Wolfie.”Your welcome.” He said. That’s when he finally noticed that the rest of the group was staring at him. Time didn’t look quite as surprised as the others, but there was definitely a bit of surprise there. Four was practically the opposite, covering his mouth with a hand. All of a sudden, Danny felt a little exposed and uncomfortable with so many eyes on him like that.
“You put your hand in a wolf’s mouth.” Sky said. It almost sounded like a question asked with slight disbelief.
“Well, not really, I used tweezers.” Danny said, lifting them up.”Besides, it looked uncomfortable having a piece of metal between his teeth. Thank goodness it wasn’t sharp, that would’ve been worse.” He added. Wolfie pulled out of the hug and started walking towards the rest of the group. Danny put the tweezers away and looked at the wolf as he approached Wind.“Also, two words for you, Wolfie. Breath mints.” Danny said.
Wolfie quickly turned around and made a noise in offense. Danny almost laughed, but kept quiet and just smiled. Time stood up.“If everyone’s done eating, we need to start looking for the portal.” He said.
Very quickly, everyone packed up and was ready to start walking. Hyrule decided to walk next to Danny and Wolfie took a position at the back.”Are you okay walking?” Hyrule asked.
Danny nodded, tightening the shoulder straps so the backpack wouldn’t bounce so much.”Yeah, I’m all good. It’s actually even better than I expected.” He replied. He was still a little hesitant to talk with them, but Orbit confirming that all of their worrying and happiness towards him was genuine helped him feel more confident than yesterday.
“That’s great! And don’t worry, we’ll start your training as soon as it’s completely healed so you don’t have to worry about monsters anymore.” Hyrule said. Danny honestly felt a little irritated being underestimated like that, but he did this to himself. On purpose. Plus, he hadn’t exactly been lying, and Hyrule didn’t seem to be trying to be mean.
Danny smiled.”I really appreciate it.” He said. He scanned the group ahead.”But where’s Twilight?” He asked. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Danny inhaled sharply and turned around, but quickly calmed down when he realized that it was just Twilight, who pulled his hand away.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Twilight said. Danny glanced behind him. Wolfie was gone. He looked back at Twilight, who was holding Epona’s reigns.
“It’s all good.” Danny said.
~~~~~(Time Skip)~~~~~
When lunch came around, Danny decided to sit closer to the group. He wasn’t sore from walking, it wasn’t exactly much compared to the exercise that was ghost fighting, escaping ghost hunters, escaping Dash, and does playing with Cujo count when he can and has thrown him multiple times during tug of war? And that doesn’t include how he and his best friends would have to walk to, from, and around school every day, or gym.
Sure, it wasn’t nearly this much, but the point is that he wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t tired. Hyrule and Twilight asked him a few times if he was tired, but Danny kept saying no, but he appreciated them saying that they wouldn’t mind stopping if he needed to. He was also grateful that they hadn’t asked him about his world again just yet, and instead talked about their own. Maybe they could tell he didn’t want to?
Speaking of Twilight, after he ate, he left to go for a bit of alone time, but wouldn’t you know it? Wolfie suddenly appeared a few minutes after Twilight was gone. True to his word, Danny shared some of his meal with the wolf, who left shortly after.
Three guesses as to who reappeared five minutes later, everyone!
Bingo, it was Twilight!
Danny felt like he didn’t need much more confirmation. Three times, the wolf had appeared when Twilight was gone and Twilight appeared when the wolf was gone. They both had the same eye color and marking, along with the crystal. Still, what if Danny was still wrong? And so what if he was right anyways? What would that change? As a stranger, Twilight obviously didn’t really trust Danny with this if he was leaving to transform, especially if he kept it secret from the others as well, which he wasn’t entirely sure of yet.
Twilight clearly knew them better than Danny. Not to mention the bad reputation wolves tend to have in his world. Maybe it was still attached to them in this world and others, too. And Danny knew well that if a species has a bad reputation, chances are there’s at least one person out there devoting themselves to hunting that species. It was reasonable to keep it a secret.
Now Danny felt a little bad thinking about how Twilight would feel if he was really trying to keep it a secret and Danny practically figured it out the first time they met, but he almost couldn’t help thinking how they were definitely the same. The signs were so obvious to him!
Danny mentally pushed that aside. The main thing was that whatever reason Twilight was keeping it a secret, he was going to play along for his sake. He wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to give hints that he knew, and he wasn’t going to do some dramatic “I knew all along” reveal before he’d step through the portal to go home. If Twilight wanted him to know, he’d tell him. Danny was going to just move on, regardless of whether or not he was right.
“Hey, Danny.” A voice piped up. Danny blinked and looked over at Legend. The sassy one with pink tips in his hair.”I just wanted you to know that the portal is a little random. When we find it, we’re not sure if it’ll take us to your world or one of ours.” He said. Danny’s eyes widened a bit.
There were nine of them. Nine different worlds other than his own. Including him, that made ten. Since they were already in one, it was back to nine. A random chance of ending up in one of these nine other places. It was a roll of the dice. Who knew how many portals he’d have to go through before he finally ended up in his own?
“Oh.” Was all he could say. The train of thought regarding Twilight had just been ran straight through by another train.
After lunch was over, the group continued walking. Wolfie had left, and they found Twilight up ahead.
~~~~~(Time Skip)~~~~~
“That’s a weird water bottle. Why does it have tiny buttons?” Sky asked, pointing at the Fenton thermos in Danny’s backpack pocket from his place on Twilight’s back. Why he was getting a piggyback ride, Danny forgot. He probably wasn’t even paying attention at the time.
“It’s actually a thermos, but close enough to a water bottle that I can’t exactly argue. As for the buttons, my parents made it and they’re... I guess you could say a little extra. I’m not sure what the buttons do exactly, but knowing them, now isn’t the best time to find out. They just gave it to me for whatever reason. I usually put leftover soup in it.” Danny replied.
That earned an odd look from the hylian Danny was talking to, along with Twilight.“...Is there soup in it now?” Sky asked.
Danny thought about it. He didn’t remember putting soup in it before he left. But then again, he also didn’t remember Orbit sneaking into his backpack. Would it even be good by now?
Danny reached for the thermos and began twisting the top off, slowing himself down a little so he wouldn’t step on anyone’s heels. Opening it the normal way like this wouldn’t suck him into the thermos. Danny just had to be careful not to press the buttons.“I don’t think I put any in there.” He said as he twisted the lid. A second later, he opened it and got a look inside.“Nope, none.” He confirmed.
“Found it!” Wind shouted up ahead. Danny twisted the lid back on and put the thermos back into the side pocket of his backpack. Wind was waving the group to go around the cliff they were walking beside, which luckily wasn’t very tall and not much of a safety hazard to be this close to. When Danny followed them around the cliff, he paused seeing the portal.
It was the same purple that he saw only for a split second before darkness. It was shaped like a triangle, and the three points seemed to curved forwards. The dark purple only outlined the portal, the inner part of it seemed to be dark. And yet Danny thought he could see an even darker triangle in the middle. The extra dark triangle swirled, both expelling darkness and absorbing light.
Danny jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced at Twilight, who looked a little worried, along with Sky.”Don’t worry, we’re all going to be on the other side incase there are monsters.” Twilight said.
Danny didn’t want to admit it with how many times he’s gone through portals to the ghost zone, but a small part of him felt like it needed to hear that.”Thanks.” He said. He looked back and saw that Warriors, Legend, and Four had already gone through. Wild and Wind went in next, followed by Time and Hyrule, who glanced back to give Danny a look of encouragement.
Epona grew a little nervous as they got closer, and Twilight looked a bit regretful. Sky acted for him and pet her gently to help sooth her.
When they got closer, Danny paused.”Hey, Twilight? Sky?” He asked. Twilight paused and both looked at him. “I don’t see Wolfie anywhere, and magic is honestly an unexplored area to me, so forgive me if this is a childish suggestion, but is Wolfie like a magic guardian taking the form of a wolf or something and he’s going to take a different path? Is that kind of thing real here?” Danny asked.
Twilight’s face twisted a bit, as if in thought, and then he smiled.“Yeah, you could say that.” He replied.
Danny gave him a look that said “I don’t like where this is going” .“Do I want to know what you mean by that?” He asked hesitantly.
“Probably not.” Sky answered with a shrug.
“And yeah, he’s coming with us. For what it’s worth, he appreciates you not being scared of him.” Twilight said.
Danny smiled and continued walking towards the dark purple gateway with Twilight, Sky, and Epona.“He talks to you too? That’s pretty neat!” Danny said. Twilight nodded and they stepped into the portal.
(I probably don’t respond to all of your comments, but know that I do see all of them and love reading them! Sometimes, while I’m writing or trying to, I’ll go back and look at them again! Including the things said in reblogs! I hope you enjoyed reading this!)
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juggalomary · 23 hours
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did yall miss me. i hope you did bc im returning with a bang. anyways here’s this. warnings: mcd, child abuse. up on ao3 within a few days
A new day, a new disaster, that’s what soap would say. He was always an optimist. Never heard saying anything about how they were likely going to die on suicide missions. Even though it was so valiantly obvious. He has to be watching from his overwatch position right now.
Ghost was glad to have him on his 6. They’d been switching places more often, soap on overwatch and sniping the people trying to end his life. He never called out to him about these people. Sometimes they’d just end up dead.
He always knows it was soap though, who else could do that so accurately. Soap was the best of the best. He’s not going to let ghost die. He’s not that selfish, never was.
Soap was the best of the best, most morally sound. He held his religion above many temptations. Infil was filled with chatter most of the time, except for soap, running his thumb over rosaries and whispering to a power long forgotten by the other men.
Exfil, a shell shocked soap would sit silently, or wail for not his mother, or ghost, but for someone, god maybe, to end his suffering. He was already going to hell, that’s what a priest told him at 15. He confessed and was told his punishment.
Never repeating that confession to anyone else, in fear of rejection. At 16 he carried his older cousin's casket in between the pews of that same church. He got home and told to man up. He turned 17 and enlisted.
That led to right now, soap covering his 6 and ghost shouting for help. A bullet lodged into his spine, blood gushing from the wound. His screams would’ve revealed his position if he cared anymore. There was no way he would get out of this. He just needed to get to a position he could radio to exfil from.
The enemy must’ve heard his screaming for Johnny, there was no response from soaps end. He must’ve been comprised.
The thundering footsteps we’re getting louder needed to move.
He pulled his hands above his head, chin resting on the ground. Looking up from under his eyebrows he saw about 20 meters until cover.
Pushing his arm to unbend he grabbed for purchase on the grass. He needed to pull himself forward to get to cover. His legs proving useless he grabbed a handful of grass and pulls. It rips.
He keeps trying to pull himself forward, but with every futile grasp comes a handfull of dirt and roots. The footsteps grow louder. He can’t die like this.
He screams in pain and frustration. Johnny is comprised, he’s comprised. It’s a solo mission, he needs to call exfil there’s no price here to scoop his useless self off the floor. He could cry. He won’t cry.
He grabbed a rock and pulled himself forward a foot. That’s okay, he’ll to cover soon. He’ll stay awake, he’ll stay strong. He will not cry.
Another idea comes to mind. He pulls 2 knives from his kit and stabs one into the dirt to use as a sort of handle.
One foot at a time he drags himself to the tree line. Sitting up to access his radio he leans on a tree.
He calls laswell. He needs exfil. He needs to leave. He’s losing blood, but he can’t feel it, he’ll pull through.
His eggs were twisted in horrible ways, he didn’t feel that pain, but he also couldn’t move them. He’ll be okay, he can just rest his eyes for a few minutes. His eyes were far to tired.
Nothing from soap. Nothing from laswell, there’s no point in staying awake, he’ll wake up to the radio transmission.
His eyes fall open again.
“-nom, SIMON! COME IN!” A young woman was on the other side of his radio.
“Mom? Mom I’m scared, I don’t want you to leave me here with him again.” It seemed he was crying.
“Simon who’s there, I’m coming, we need to know where you are.”
“Mommy I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m in the woods mom. Please don’t let him find me. He had a bat mom.” Drearily weeping through the radio was not something that elete SAS lieutenants do. But his mom was back, he missed her so much.
She tried her damn best, especially since he was stuck with his bummy ass father. She tended to his wounds whenever she was sober. She took beatings for him when he was too young to know he’s a man and he should be taking it. She wiped his tears whenever he came crying. Somehow it wasn’t enough.
He still had his tooth knocked out, he still was given drugs before he realized what they were. He still had to see that sex worker die. He still has to kiss that snake.
Haven forgotten about that snake until right now the hissing in his ear was not of any relief. It should’ve, it would mean his radio was working. His hands were too heavy to really hit the button to turn it on though.
Tears were not allowed though. The snake was in his ear, not biting his lip, his mom was talking to him. And Johnny would be back soon.
“Ghost, Simon, do you copy.”
“Mom I’m not alone anymore”
Crunching could he heard, a dark figure approaching him. He had a pistol. He shot the gun, but the bullet shot right next to his ear. He let himself relax, foolishly.
The man in front of him was his father, but his face was skewed. One part of it was his father, and the other half was of price. The side with price reached out and told him to calm down and stay awake. Then price was gone and it was just his father.
He was screaming, not Simon, Simon would recognize who was screaming and it wasn’t himself. A blow landed on his head, he saw it but didn’t feel it. His father was standing there, his mouth was moving but he wasn’t saying anything. Then he hissed like a snake. Mouth open he saw the snake that bit him all those years ago, he started screaming for real this time.
The snaked closed is mouth and then said something in Spainish. This man was none other than a cackling manual roba. Scalpel in one hand he laughed. The scar on his ribs flared up as he was called every insult under the sun. He was told to not fear as, it would feel so nice soon.
Turning his head out of the grasp roba has on his face he was met with Vernon’s rotting skeletal face. There was dirt in his eyes, ears, mouth, nose. He was buried.
“GHOST!”
“Mom? Save me.”
“Ghost who’s with you right now.”
He opens his eyes, praying he can see at the end of this all. Scratched corneas would end his career, and his career is all that he had left.
In front of him, soap was sitting, thumbing his rosaries and mumbling a prayer. Without greeting he looks up. “Simon, I’ve missed you.”
“Ghost. I repeat, who is with you?”
“Johnny. Bye mommy, I’ll see you soon.”
With his final goodbye to the only person to truly love him, he can rest.
“Simon, I loved you too.” A Scottish lilt was the last thing he heard before the world went silent. He laid his head on the tree and closed his eyes. He hoped that Johnny was in the next 7 minutes. And price and Gaz. Maybe he can finally see them again too. Laswell will join them at some point. Then they can meet her wife. Maybe she’ll have kids after retirement.
He hoped he was happy.
-
Ghost was found 2 days later. Soaps rosary in his pocket and tear tracks running down his face wiping off the eye black.
Task force 141 was together, earthly and in spirit. Buried in the national cemetery one next to the other.
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riri-twix · 1 day
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Can We Become We?
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Chapter 2: Just an Arrangement
Summary: Satoru, Suguru, and you are forced into a marriage by your families for economic reasons. Satoru who doesn’t know what it’s like to love or be loved. Suguru who believes he is undeserving of anyone’s love. And you who didn’t want to love in the first place.
The three of you agree to stay out of each other’s business, and save the relationship acts only for the elders who imposed this on you. But what happens when feelings for each other start to develop?
She/her pronouns for reader | use of y/n | no smut in in this chapter
You can also read it on ao3 here
Satoru was leaning back onto the couch, a foot over his knee, and an arm slung around the back. He looked relaxed on the outside, but on the inside, there was a knot in his stomach, only growing tighter by the second.
His expression is blank, turning his head left, then right, then left again, as he follows his father. The man has been pacing back and forth in the living room with quick, determined steps for the past five minutes. It was almost like being caught up in a tennis match, Satoru thought.
“Twenty minutes!” His father grits out, his voice rising in pitch as he struggles to keep his anger under control. “They said they’d arrive in twenty minutes!”
And it’s only been twenty-one. Satoru rolls his eyes and sinks further into the couch. His dad was always on a rush in every situation, always trying to control everything and everyone in his life.
This is just a dinner, for crying out loud. Satoru throws his head back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his father's bitching about everything. He needs learn how to relax.
“You should stop stressing, baby.” Came the voice of his mother. He was almost certain that she didn’t even look up from her phone as she said that. “It’s not a good look on you.”
“Oh?” There was a smirk to his father’s tone. “Then what is?”
“Hmm?” Okay, now his mother definitely put down her phone. “I have a few ideas. Maybe… I can try them out…”
Eww. If Satoru could roll his eyes while they were closed, he would’ve done it a million times. Instead, he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a loud gag, taking the liberty to even stick his tongue out for better efficiency. An opportunity to piss off his parents? He’ll take it.
“Satoru.” He could almost feel the glare his father sent his way.
“Yes?” A smirk plays on his lips, satisfied that he was able to get on his father’s nerves. “You know, you could just get a room. Then you won’t have to worry about me bothering you.”
Before his father could throw a shoe or the closest object at Satoru’s head, a number of footsteps walks into the room.
“Sir.” Satoru’s eyes peel open when he hears the smooth, even voice of their butler addressing his father. “The Geto family is here.”
Satoru feels his body freeze, a wave of uneasiness washes over him, churning over and over in his stomach as the retreating footsteps of the butler fade away. The steady beating of his heart grows louder in his ears.
The whole point of this gathering was for him and his… fiancés? To meet before tomorrow’s public wedding. He knew that. So why was he feeling so nervous? He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but the more he tries to focus on his breathing, the more he feels the tension rising inside of him.
“You must be Suguru.” The words come out of his father's mouth like clockwork, a well-rehearsed tone that Satoru has heard so many times before. Used for formalities, always accompanied with a jarring, toothy smile. Fake as shit.
“The pleasure is mine, sir.”
Satoru can’t, and for the most part, doesn’t, stop himself from lifting his head the moment that soft voice fills his ears. His eyes automatically land on Suguru, who had his head bowed politely at his father, before straightening up again, a friendly smile on his face.
His face immediately contorts in distaste. Because what the hell’s up with those bangs? And also because he doesn’t know what else to do. He exhales a scoff through his nose and throws his head back again, silently hoping that no one noticed the way his face grew hot.
He didn’t want to look at him anyway. And he definitely did not, in any way, want to look at the way Suguru’s shoulders and chest complimented him so perfectly in that light button up, tucked in neatly under those deep blue pants-
ThE pLeASurE iS mine, SiR. He mocks in his head, interrupting those unwarranted thoughts. Pathetic. He was probably just like every other person who meets his father. None of them give a shit about how stingy or ruthless he is, just interested in the money and power that came from being connected to him.
Suguru didn’t know what to expect when he walked through the automatic sliding gate of the big, no, ginormous Gojo estate. He’s only ever seen places like these from the outside. The air inside was heavy with the smell of leather and rich mahogany, a far cry from the familiar scent of his own home.
It didn’t fit with him. He didn’t belong here.
He hadn't spoken a word to his parents since they told him the news, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. His appetite had faded so much that he could hardly bring himself to eat. He spent the last two nights tossing and turning, his mind plagued by his own thoughts of what was going to happen.
Still, he thought, none of that was a good enough reason not to make himself look presentable. If there was one thing that Suguru couldn’t do, it was being rude enough to show up as a guest without attempting to look decent.
And now, Suguru's heart raced as he stood before Satoru's father, feeling as if the older man was staring directly into his soul. He tried to keep his emotions in check, leaving the smile on his face as he fought the urge to flee.
His eyes flicker briefly over the older man’s shoulder, falling onto the exposed throat of the man he was to marry, his head flopped back over the couch.
His gaze quickly returns back onto Satoru’s father when he realises that its rude not to focus his attention. He takes a deep breath, hoping that he doesn't seem too nervous as he clears his throat and tries to steady his voice.
“I apologise for being late.” He offers, stepping to the side to introduce his parents. “This is my father, and my mother.”
His parents step up, both giving a small, polite bow, introducing themselves as they did. 
But Suguru can’t focus on the words, his curiosity distracting him from the conversation taking place in front of him. He leans slightly to the side, trying to get another peek at Satoru. He wonders what’s going on through his mind, but the sight of his expressionless face makes it hard to tell. But one thing was clear. Satoru wasn’t happy.
Suguru opted to furrow his eyebrows instead of rolling his eyes. Because of course the prodigal son wouldn’t be happy about marrying some no body whose family owns nothing but a farm. Suguru almost scoffed out loud. Used to own nothing but a farm. Now they had nothing.
Suguru was nothing. And compared to Satoru, he might as well cease to exist. No doubt, Satoru hated his guts, all because his parents were petty enough to sell him off.
If he were Satoru, he would’ve hated himself too.
“Please, don’t wait for an invitation.” Suguru looks back to Satoru’s father, who now had an arm wrapped around his wife’s waist beside him. When did she get there? The older man gestures towards the cream-coloured velvet couch. “Please take a seat.”
His parents don’t need to be told twice, quickly scampering towards the seat with small ‘thank you’.
“Satoru, you’re an adult, for Christ’s sake. Sit properly in front of our guests.”
Suguru watches in silence as Satoru's father scolds him, before his feet finally start moving. He makes his way to the opposite end of the couch Satoru was on. The white-haired man sighed, long and loud, before straightening his posture. He doesn’t even glance once in Suguru’s direction.
Suguru suddenly feels insulted. Sure, he gets it in a way, that this wasn’t Satoru’s choice and all, but he didn’t get much of a choice either. Did he think himself all high and mighty that much? And why the hell was he wearing sunglasses indoors?
Suguru swallows his pride. Breath in. Smile.
He doesn’t know why he was taking Satoru’s bullshit personally. It’s not like they were in this whole thing for love. The least he could do is tolerate. Maybe, he thinks, hopefully, he silently prays, you’re not going to be an asshole as much as Satoru. Then at least it will be easier for him.
“This way, please.” The voice of the butler who had just recently escorted him and his family, catches Suguru’s attention.
“Ah finally.” Satoru’s father sighs, clapping once and rubbing his palms together. “Our bride is here.”
You and your parents were the last to arrive at the Gojo estate. You didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to meet your ‘soon-to-be husbands’ or their parents. It doesn’t matter what your parents say, or how childish it is, you’re going to frown through this entire gathering.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Because your jaw dropped open in awe the moment you were let in through the gates.
The house, if you could even call it that, was big, huge in fact. So large that you imagine you could fit your entire home five times over, and still have room to spare. It wasn’t surprising, considering that the Gojo family was well known for their wealth.
By the double front doors, you were greeted by an old, but not that old looking man. Your eyes trail from his face down to his clothes, taking in the formal black suit and small bow, and you realise he must be the butler – they even had a butler.
He guides you in, leading you down the hall into a large room that looked a bit too formal to be called a living room, where you find yourself standing before a six-person audience. All heads turned to you.
After a quick scan of everyone’s faces, your eyes fall onto Satoru. He looks at you with hard, judging eyes, his expression impenetrable behind the sunglasses that cover them.
You can't help but notice the uncanny resemblance to his father - the imposing figure seated on the opposite couch - with his white hair and angular jawline. His full lips and sharp nose, on the other hand, seem to be a hallmark of his mother's features.
Your gaze then shifts to Suguru, who looks at you with a curious gaze. His striking beauty is almost otherworldly, with peaceful, cat-like eyes and a delicate jawline. A gentle masculinity softened so slightly by feminine features.
He's the type of gorgeous that you can't look away from, and you feel yourself drawn to him, almost instinctively.
Both of them, Satoru and Suguru weren’t the creepy old men you were dreading they’d be - thank God. And although they seemed like complete opposites, were equally handsome.
And just like that, the frown that has long since left your face, decides to make a re-entrance. Because what the hell? You were against this whole thing. You were forced into it, expected to go along with it like it's some kind of game. You can’t be thinking like that about the men who didn’t even choose you.
“Well? What are you waiting for, dear?” Satoru’s mother smiles too tightly, her tone way too sweet. “Come and have a seat. Make yourself at home.”
No introduction where needed, because apparently your parents had already met the Gojo’s before during business. Like this is any different.
While there was plenty of free space, it almost seemed like she was being overly obvious for you to take the seat between Satoru and Suguru. So you do. But you make sure to leave a comfortable distance on either side. You suppress the urge to run your fingers over the velvet.
“Aren’t you all just so cute?” Satoru’s mother coos, pulling out her phone. A flash of white momentarily blinds you. “This is going to be perfect for my page.” She beams at her screen.
“Why don’t we all head over to the dining room?” Satoru’s father suddenly suggests. “Let’s give the kids some alone time to get to know each other.”
Your parents all voice their agreements, following Satoru’s mother as she leads them out of the main hall. But Satoru’s father stays behind. Something feels off. He doesn’t say anything. The silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity, and you start to wonder if he is ever going to speak.
Satoru wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands. He knew that this was just the way his father was before starting one of his ‘I am too important for this world’ speeches.
“Listen closely.” Satoru’s father starts, his tone low and calm, yet there’s a hint of warning in it. It reminds you of how Vito Corleone talks in the Godfather, just without the Italian accent. “My family’s reputation,” Satoru lets out a groan at that, rolling his eyes dramatically as his father continued to talk. “And my reputation. They are very important to me.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit intimidated.
“I’m pretty sure they know that, dad.” Satoru grits out, huffing and turning his cheek to the side. “Who doesn’t?”
“Precisely.” His father arches one of his snow-white eyebrows. “Tomorrow is your wedding-”
“Pretty sure they know that too-” Satoru cuts in, earning himself a pointed glare, but he doesn’t give two shits. It kind of makes you feel a bit better, the way Satoru was being so nonchalant.
“And many important people will attend, including the Gojo family elders.” His father goes on. “You three, and I mean you two in particular,” He uses two fingers to points at you and Satoru, “would do well to know what you’re dealing with now. Fix those attitudes.”
A pang of irritation spikes up. Is he the one to talk about attitudes? Because you could list down a number of things he needs to fix. The first one being to find himself a therapist.
“I don’t want the elders talking badly about us. They are in charge of all our affairs and if they sense any problems, it won’t be good.” Satoru’s father huffs, throwing his hands in the air. “You look like you’re going to be attending a funeral rather than your own wedding!”
And just like that, Satoru snaps.
“Why do they care?!” His voice was loud and filled with venom. “Why the fuck, do they give so much shits about our lives?!”
“Because our family name is one of the most influential throughout all of Japan!” His father spits right back. “And I will NOT have you taint it!”
Your muscles were tense the entire time, heart caught up in your throat at the rising tension. Satoru doesn’t respond, and his father suddenly turns around, taking a deep breath as if to compose himself.
“I don’t care how much you hate it.” He says, calmly. It was as if the yelling that happened seconds ago never existed. He flashes a smile over his shoulder, that almost made you believe it was real. “Act like you want this. You understand?”
And with that, he leaves.
Your eyes dart over to Satoru. His hands were clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was gritting his teeth, the gaze of his sunglasses planted firmly on a spot on the floor. You instantly felt a pang of sympathy at the unfair treatment he got. Did this happen to him all the time?
A part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you also know that getting involved might only make the situation worse.
Satoru finally speaks, his voice sneering. "Listen, I'm telling you from now.” He says, “I don't care why you're here or what you want from my father and this family, but this” He gestures sharply towards the three of you. "Will never be anything more than an act. You won't stick your noses into my life, and I won't stick mine into yours. I don't care what you do, just leave me out of it."
Despite the harsh tone in those words, you felt a wave of relief wash over you for some reason. That didn’t sound all that bad. It hits you that maybe, just maybe you could do that. You can go through the motions without having to actually share any part of your life with them. Shoko and the girls might not need to crash the wedding after all…
“I don’t have any disagreements.” Suguru voiced out, lifting the remaining weight off your chest. No one was opposed to this.
“Me either.”
The person staring back at you in the mirror was… beautiful. You didn’t know you could even look like this.
The light grey wedding dress had a beautiful flowing skirt, draping down to the floor and swirling around your legs as you move. The delicate fabric is a perfect silhouette that falls on you, hugging your body at the waist where a white, silk obi belt is tied in a lovely bow. Several silver outlines of betta fish were adorned the belt, each one catching the light in just the right way.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Came the hushed whisper of the maid doing the finishing touches.
I know, you wanted to say. But the words catch in your throat. It would probably sound rude, even though you could see yourself as clear as day. “Thank you.” You replied instead.
A light knock came from the door. And with it, the beating of your heart only grew louder.
It was time.
A young lady guided you down a wide hallway, fixing and adjusting the back of your dress as you walked, until you reached the opening of a large, opulent lobby, where your father was waiting for you.
He linked arms with you, smiling warmly at you. There was a look of affection filled in his gaze. “I remember the way I used to carry you on my shoulders like it was yesterday.” He whispered, stroking your cheek. “I can’t even carry you anymore.” Words that did nothing to suppress the loathing for him that started days ago.
You don’t say anything, just nodding and turning your head slightly to the side. You didn’t want to start crying, and you didn’t want to forgive him for this either. And with that, he walks you through the double doors.
The buzzing chatter that had filled every corner in the room, suddenly went silent, and all heads turned to you. The whole lobby was filled with large, round tables, every single chair occupied. You silently questioned if the Gojo family had invited the entire population of Japan here.
Your eyes finally settle directly ahead, and there, standing at the end of the aisle, you see them. Satoru and Suguru.
Satoru was wearing a pure, white kimono underneath a white haori jacket. His hakama pants were a baby blue. As for Suguru, he was dressing in the exact same outfit, except it was darker. His kimono and haori jacket were both black, while his pants were a dark grey.
As if their hair wasn’t already enough of a difference.
You’ve been to a couple of weddings before, you’ve seen the way the groom would look at the bride with a love only told from fairytales, or the way the bride can’t stop the smile from forming on her face. Both of them showing nothing but pure happiness.
Chin up. Smile. You felt the corners of your mouth lifting upwards, grinning as best as you could.
But, even with the way Satoru’s face was lit up with a grin that made his face look even more boyish than before, and even with Suguru’s eyes closed into upside down crescents. Anyone could believe it was real, but you knew. There wasn’t a single trace of real happiness on their faces.
You heart started to beat heavily in your ears. Focus on getting one foot in front of the other. Each time you took a step, it was in sync with the pounding in your chest.
Step.
Step.
Step.
All eyes were on you, wide and unblinking, you could see their mouths moving, sharing whispers. But you couldn’t hear anything. Only the inhale and exhale through your teeth, your eyes set on both the white fluffy hair, flowing freely, and the dark strands that were tied into a perfect bun.
You swallow thickly as a wave of nausea washes over you. Your stomach churned over itself, then over again like a tidal wave washing onto the beach. Sick. You were going to be sick.
You don’t even remember when your father had left your side, waving you in the middle of the two men. You keep your head straight ahead at the priest, unwilling to look at neither Satoru nor Suguru.
Something catches your eye. A small detail you couldn’t have noticed from afar. Satoru’s haori. It was embroidered with light blue outlines of betta fish. And Suguru’s too. All over it, outlined in a magnificent purple. Just like his eyes.
You wonder who chose this specific fish-
“Y/n?” The priest snapped you out of your thoughts.
You blink. Was it your turn already?
“Opps, sorry.” You let out a nervous chuckle, and straightened yourself. “With this ring and binding, I promise to be there for you both, day or night, in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.” You recited your practiced vow with a beaming smile, looking up at Suguru, then to Satoru.
You watch as Satoru reaches for the ring, a small smirk on his face as he takes your hand and slides the band onto your finger in a smooth and effortless motion. You felt a tingle at his touch, but you pushed it away as he released you.
Suguru follows, grabbing the ring and sliding it onto Satoru's finger, his smile bright and warm as he turns to you with a sense of excitement. He almost makes you feel like this whole exchange was natural.
You were next. You breathe in, your hand trembling ever so slightly as you reach out for the ring. Taking Suguru’s hand, you place the golden band on his finger, marking the official completion of the ceremony.
The audience bursts into a round of cheers and applause, filling your ears like distant echoes.
That’s it. It was done. You were now tied to them, and they to you.
chapter1, chapter2, chapter3, chapter4 (coming soon)
taglist: @keira80808
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 days
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And here is the other Carmy one!
Can I please request a fic where Carmy and Sugar have a younger sister, who is around 15 or something, running away and just showing up at Carmy’s doorstep, imagine him coming home to his apartment and seeing his lil sister asleep on her tiny backpack that she brought and he’s just like, “Y/n????” Carmy calling their Mom to let her know that Y/n’s at his apartment, his sister literally clinging to him and begging him not to send her back to their mother. Their mom giving the okay for her to stay with him, and Carmy looking at Y/n’s puppy dog eyes and agreeing. Omg ALSO him letting her work at the restaurant!!!!! Something that he always wished Mikey would’ve let him do!! UGH HIM PRETTY MUCH MENTORING HER AND GUIDING HER IN COOKING. Y/n following behind him like a lil lost pup. Her kinda being an assistant to her big brother!! He’d make sure she gets to school safely and I feel like he’d make sure she’s getting whatever she needs at school!! The staff taking care of her too like she’s one of their own, showing up to events at school, helping with homework, etc. Especially since Carm struggled in school, he doesn’t want the same thing to happen to her. Sugar may feel a littleeee offended that Y/n chose to go to Carmy instead of her, Y/n just has a special relationship with her brother and really looks up to him (probably wanting to be a chef like he is) 🤧 The staff being so fond of her and taking care of her
𝒴ℴ𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓎
A/n- I love this so so much! so sorry this took a little I’ve been on a bit of a break. This is a lil short but im just trying to get back into the groove of writing ): im working on the other reqs too!
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Throwing everything you could fit into your bag, you glanced around the room once more. You never wanted to come back here.
Now where you would go? You didn’t know.
You wandered around the streets for a little, getting some food and once it hit 9 pm, you knew you had to go somewhere.
You found your feet padding against the stairs up to his apartment, remembering his address by heart.
“If you need anything, I’m always here, alright?” Were the words that rang in your head everyday ever since the funeral. Every time she yelled or asked you for a drink, you thought back to your brother.
He had given you a little slip on paper with his address on it, the numbers written quickly and sloppily. You kept it ever since.
You raised your fist, rapping on the door. When there was no answer, you did again. He wasn’t home you soon realized.
You sighed, putting your pillow that was underneath your arm onto the floor, knowing it could be a little until he was back. You ended up falling asleep on the floor.
And later, you woke up to a voice.
“Jesus…” he mumbled, your eyes slowly fluttering open.
“Hey, y/n.” He said quietly, “c’mon, get off the ground.” He held a hand out for you, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and grabbed his hand.
“Carmy.” You murmured sleepily, he chuckled quietly and began to unlock the door. You followed him into his apartment.
“What are you doing, y/n?” He asked you, motioning for you to sit down on the couch next to him as he got a glass of water.
“I… ran away.” You admitted, taking the glass.
His eyes widened, he stayed silent for a while until he spoke up again.
“Why’d you come here?”
“It’s the only other place I had to go.” You shrugged, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“Fuck… okay, let me…” he pulled out his phone.
“Wait, don’t make me go back. Please, don’t.”
“I’m just gonna let her know you’re here. I’m not sending you back.”
He went to the other side of the house, quietly talking to her.
He glanced back up at you, looking at your eyes and sighing when he put the phone down.
“You can stay here. Just until-“ he spoke, walking over. But he was cut off when you ran over and wrapped your arms around him, thanking him multiple times.
His hand was on the back of your head as he looked up at the ceiling.
———-
“Don’t be nervous. They’ll love you.” He said, he entered the room, seeing everyone sitting down at the table.
“Hey, everyone.” He greeted them all, you standing awkwardly behind him.
“Y/n?!” Sugar practically shouted when she saw you. She ran up, giving you a tight hug.
“Is that the shrimp?” Richie asked, standing up to get a good look at you now.
“Hey, guys.” You said to them both.
“I haven’t seen you in a while, how’ve you been?” He asked, giving you a hug as well.
“Oh my God! I missed you, what are you doing here?” She continued. You gave her a smile and looked at Carmy.
“Uhm, everyone, this is y/n. My sister.” He motioned to you. “She’s gonna be working here from now on.”
A bunch of people started talking at once, all greeting you.
“Wait, seriously?” Sugar asks him. He nodded.
“I.. ran away.” You told sugar and Richie. They both stayed silent for a moment.
“You chose to stay with him?” Sugar asked you, cracking a small smile again.
“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t know your address.” You told her.
She just smiled and gave you another hug.
“The foods gonna get cold,” Carmy said, nodding towards the table with a small smile. You sat in an empty chair next to Carmy.
The next weeks were the best, you felt more free than ever now. You learned how to cook better, and Carmy was more patient with you than he was with the others.
You seemed happier, and that was all that mattered to him.
You were a part of their family now.
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yenonnoff · 14 hours
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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 22. 2 people, 1 truth
note: word count is 3.8k :D
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“they really are little rascals, especially this one!” atsumu huffed with an orange kitten pressed against his chest. you found him near an alleyway and were currently walking back to april’s store. 
it was a convenience store, and she used the second floor as her living space. after you were banned from eating the snacks at your parents’ place, you started hanging out at april’s more often. she always gave you the snacks for free and you spent most of your childhood there: in april’s store next to her floor fan as customers came and went. 
“you’re back!” april rushed out in a hurry, reaching to pet the kitten still in your arms. “their mom’s in the back with the other younglings so i’ll need to wash them. but before that, tell me how i can repay the two of you.” 
you rushed to decline. “no, no. don’t worry about it, we did this because we just wanted to help.” 
april laughed heartily. “then thank you, darling, for helping me find the kittens.” she smiled towards atsumu, “and thank you… y/n’s boyfriend. looks like i never got your name!” she erupted again in buoyant laughter. 
your co-star returned her smile. “it’s atsumu miya, nice to meet you.” his response garnered an elbow to the side from you. “he’s not my boyfriend, just a coworker,” you clarified quickly.
her excitement didn’t fade, a sly twinkle shining in her aged eyes. she grabbed the kittens from you and atsumu, the two troublemakers tugging insistently at her floral blouse. “we’ll continue this later, they’re really impatient aren’t they?” 
when april left, you and atsumu occupied the bench in front of the store. he stretched and yawned. “what were you saying about your parents before you got cut off?” he asked curiously. 
“oh, my parents aren’t here anymore. we moved to miyagi prefecture when i got to high school, and they stayed there after i moved to tokyo for university.” 
“must’ve been hard when their only child left,” he said, lifting a brow when you laughed. “not at all,” you replied. “i was a handful to them, they were glad i left.” 
growing up, a part of you resented your parents for moving away from your hometown. you dreamt of everything: attending a nearby high school and keeping up with your studies—going home and helping the residents with their tasks around town. it was the perfect harmony, and it was shattered due to your parents. 
you realized later it was because they hated everything the town stood for: peace, gaiety, and the ability to melt your heart. they must’ve hated the cool summers too—the long family walks through town after supper where you admired wildflowers in the sidewalk cracks. they must’ve hated the colorful peonies in the spring and the lively tradition where all the residents came together to have one big picnic in the field. you still remembered it so vividly. each household needed to bring something special (music, toys for the kids, food, or drinks) to be able to participate. once, your parents said you were their special item and the residents exploded in cheerful laughter and agreement. looking back, you wondered how true that actually was of your parents. 
they were bored of the place they grew up in, and they tossed it away without even asking you. they threw their friends away, the memories they made with everyone, and—worse of all—they desecrated your love for the town and its people. 
you’d cried during departure, watching as everyone bore smiling faces in an attempt to uplift yours. you hadn’t cried in years, and you were about to attend high school. you saw them hand you gifts—all the things you loved and things that’ll remind you of your true home. you hoped they knew you weren’t the one who wanted to leave; you hoped they knew it was because your parents hated their kind generosity. 
“i hated leaving my hometown behind. if i could, i would’ve stayed with them while my parents left. i would’ve been okay without them. but when i got to my new school, things started to get better,” you said, fidgeting with the palm of your hand. “i excelled at my classes and made new friends. they filled an empty part in me and i was able to be with them 24/7 through volleyball.” you paused for a moment. “but my parents didn’t like that. they didn’t like it when i went to my team’s matches to support them, they didn’t like that i was barely home with them.”
atsumu remained silent while you talked. his back was pressed against the wall and his shoulder was touching yours. his silence comforted you, his warmth made you continue. “i think they realized it was out of their control now, that when i went off to university, they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore. i saved up money from my part-time job and moved to tokyo with my friends. my parents stopped calling me afterwards, but i still send money back home to them.” 
you choked back a sob, chuckling at the weird situation: you pouring your feelings out to your attentive co-star. you avoided looking at him.
“what about your aunt april? couldn’t you have stayed with her?” 
you laughed quietly. “she’s not my real aunt, her husband isn’t my real uncle either. they just treated me really nicely, like i was a part of their family. actually, they were my parents’ rivals. the town only needed one convenience store and i guess my parents were the ones who left. maybe they didn’t like how welcoming aunt april treated me, but i knew she never wanted us to leave. and i never wanted to be seen as a burden to them. they already had so much on their plate, i just couldn’t invade their lives like that.” 
atsumu hummed. “but if you had asked, they would’ve accepted in a heartbeat.” you smiled sadly—what he said was true. 
you couldn’t help but imagine what your life would’ve been like if you’d stayed. you would’ve been happy, you would’ve continued to stay in your hometown after graduation, maybe even become a farmer. you would’ve been surrounded by people who loved you and familiar sights. but you would’ve never met shimizu and the others. you would’ve never realized the wonders of living in a big city filled with opportunities. you wouldn’t be acting. you wouldn’t have met atsumu and experienced all of this. 
when you realized that silence took over the conversation, you attempted a weak smile. “well! enough of me—”
“you don’t have to hide it, y/n,” atsumu said. “you can be unprofessional too.” 
your heart staggered. hot tears threatened to fall and you only said, “it’s okay, i don’t want to talk about it right now.” 
atsumu nodded at your response, sitting up more casually. you were grateful when he started talking: “it’ll be unfair if i didn’t tell you about myself too, right?” he stopped briefly to think. “my brother and i were adamant about volleyball during high school. awards, summer camps, interhigh, nationals—you name it. being recognized for your incredible setting skills had its perks,” he winked and you laughed. “i got some modeling gigs and then eventually went into acting.”
you listened intently to him as he spoke. there was always something about atsumu. was it his assertiveness or the way he naturally drew people in? you had a feeling it was both. the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to know about him. 
“the first time i scored a big role, i was confused by how happy i felt. i remembered the amount of compliments they gave me, not only for my acting skills but for volleyball as well. ‘a real talent,’ they’d told me once, and it made me want to continue acting. i struggled here and there with getting roles, mainly due to my inexperience, but it was a challenge i wanted to overcome. i felt the same amount of frustration when messing up a scene as passing a bad set. i felt the same amount of joy too, so it was difficult to decide which path i wanted to take after high school.” 
you asked when he became silent, “how did your parents react?” 
he didn’t turn to look at you but you saw his lips pulled into a grim smile. “horrible,” he said. “‘samu wanted to pursue culinary arts and i wanted to focus on acting. my parents knew i had some roles during high school but they didn’t like that i wanted to do it professionally. my mom was clinging onto the chance that i would continue volleyball unlike my brother.” atsumu tightened his hands, his expression hard and dour. “but they didn’t realize that i was still playing, just not competitively. i didn’t compromise my love for it, never did.” 
you felt a strange pull of admiration. you could hate atsumu all you want for his actions, but you could never hate the confidence he radiated. you’ve seen it before: at the script read through and on the first day of filming. when he stepped on set, reading his lines with such certainty and zeal, your eyes didn’t want to look away. so this was atsumu miya, you thought. this was the highly praised atsumu—the side he proudly chose to display. 
but right now, he was just atsumu, regular atsumu. he was another person that goes through things like everyone else. you had believed vehemently before that your co-star was only capable of hate and disdain. that he could only conjure up sly, distasteful frowns. now he was more human than you thought. 
“i’m sorry,” was all you could say in response. atsumu shook his head, his eyes downcasted. “it got better eventually, it’s been a couple years and they’ve come around.” 
he continued: “it took a lot to convince them and myself that it was the right choice. i didn’t land any major roles for a year straight.” 
you blinked. who wouldn’t want atsumu on their production? even if this happened years ago, atsumu already had a couple major roles under his belt. you had a feeling it wasn’t him or his skills that were at fault. 
“a fucking year straight,” he spat his words venomously. “i practiced everyday until my body gave up, and for what? some rich insecure pieces of shit to come by and flaunt their money in the director’s face? i didn’t want anything to stop me from acting except my skills.” 
you imagined atsumu practicing his lines over and over again until he was satisfied. you saw him beating himself up for every mistake he would make. to atsumu, it must’ve felt like preparing for a volleyball match: setting and serving until he could no longer—until his exhausted body begged him to stop. it felt vivid to you. after all, you were both hardworking perfectionists, and you were both treading through an industry where the rich reigned and the skilled surrendered. 
for a year straight, atsumu dealt with this. he couldn’t do anything, powerless to change the directors’ decisions.
you stared at him with a pained expression. “bribery,” you said meekly and he nodded. “just like what emma did.”
“so you knew,” he said, low and accepting. 
“yes, i did, about her bribing director sage. but i want to hear it from you, not from a friend or anywhere else.” 
he nodded and you braced yourself for what was about to come. “i didn’t know at first, no one did except for the director and committee team. you wouldn’t have expected her to do something like that: she was nice and endearing, even to the staff members. but i always questioned why director sage was so hard on her. it wasn’t as if she lacked talent. she was good—well, good enough, i suppose. then i realized what it was about her. she had talent but not skills from experience. whenever filming lasted longer than it should’ve due to her, everyone was forgiving. they ignored her issues because she was nice and pretty.”
you swallowed at his words. with money, you could buy opportunities, but not skills and experience that are on par with actors who’ve been doing this for way longer. you couldn’t, unless you knew how to adapt—unless you were a quick learner. emma was none of those things. 
you watched atsumu rub his hands against his face, a sorrowful chuckle leaving his lips. “there were signs and i was blind to them. i only focused on her, thinking how amazing she was. she only had two years of experience so her mistakes were understandable. but this was a director sage film. his standards were fucking crazy. how did she land the main role if not for bribery and blackmail?” 
you had to confess, after returning from the trip to the record store slash beach, you finally watched director sage’s latest film. it aired two years ago but was one of his most popular works ever. emma had the main role but surprisingly, atsumu was only the second lead. he didn’t have much screen time but whenever he appeared in a scene with emma, you felt your heart stop, your breath hitching in your throat. their chemistry was otherworldly, and you understood why the whole internet went into chaos when they broke up. if you had watched this two years ago, you would’ve rooted for them too. 
“oh, but,” he quickly turned towards you, saying softly, “don’t blame director sage too much. it was his choice to make, but there were devastating circumstances. if he didn’t accept emma’s bribe, there would’ve been no film. her father would’ve cut off all the budget, including the ones from other companies. a single word from him would’ve cost director sage his career.” atsumu’s eyes turned dark and discernible. “i’m not saying his choice was right. emma forcibly stole opportunities from other aspiring actors and director sage helped her to do so. but still… he was in a difficult situation.” 
there was affection in his voice when he said the last sentence. you’ve seen them interact many times before, and it always occurred to you how easily atsumu laughed and smiled in the director’s presence. they both adored one another dearly, both having fond memories of working together years ago. 
“don’t worry, i don’t,” you reassured him. “but when i came, you thought i also blackmailed him. you thought director sage was put in another difficult situation.” you weren’t angry at him, you only stated frankly what had happened. but the latter pained atsumu more than the former. he wished you would yell at him or be in a fit of rage again (like your confrontation at the beach) because he knew he was wrong. he messed up and you were the one that was hurt. 
but you didn’t fault him, not after hearing about everything. atsumu was distrusting, both towards you and the acting industry. how could he not? the person he was in love with had betrayed her morals and his trust. 
“you’re right,” he said. “i was too quick to blame you. i judged you without knowing anything and spoke about you badly when i wasn’t any better. you were none of the things i claimed you were. you’re incredible, you know that? you made those four idiots fall in love with you on the first day of filming. you made director sage fall in with you. and you reminded me what good acting was. it was exhilarating to see someone with the same amount of passion as me. i fell in love with acting again just by watching you act.”
your cheeks burned at his words. you’ve received compliments before but it was different when your unapproachable and grumpy co-star said it. 
atsumu shifted to face you, both of your feet pointing in each other’s directions. “so i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry for dragging you into this, you were never the problem. what those staff members said were true: i am extremely cocky and pretentious, i’m hasty and reckless with both my actions and words. and i had hurt you greatly. could you forgive me?” 
you felt his vulnerability, his hesitant gaze on you. it wasn’t his fault, you wanted to say. it was okay. 
“i could, and i will. you’re forgiven, atsumu.” you waited another moment to say, “not everything the staff members said was true. you’re not undeserving of your role or fame.” 
“did they say that too?” 
you nodded and his eyebrows pinched together. “they said that because of my relationship with emma. after the film aired, everyone in the industry knew. some felt stronger about it than others; some could care less because it was so normalized; and some even praised her for being rich and having connections. it’s gross. if you don’t have the skills to earn your roles fairly through auditioning, you’re pathetic. instead of using that money to drag the director and your co-stars down, you should be spending it on acting classes.” 
you had to tug on his arm to get his attention. you didn’t mind his rant, but you were too curious about what that had to do with him being labeled “undeserving.” 
atsumu caught your eye and said, “oh, right. emma and i broke up a year after the film. we didn’t tell anyone what the reason was, but the bribery part was only half the story. those staff members were the same ones i worked with all those years ago. they saw how emma and i were—probably thought i was the same blackmailing fox as her.” he let out another low chuckle. “or maybe that i used my connection with director sage to my advantage. or that i already had my chance to work with him, and that another person should’ve gotten the opportunity.”
in your eyes, atsumu was never undeserving. director sage picked him for the lead role because he truly believed atsumu was worthy of it. you’d heard from kuroo that atsumu came out of his year-long break because of director sage. he just wanted to work with his favorite director again. atsumu had the confidence and skills to do so. what was so wrong about that? 
you patted him on the shoulder. “it’s not true, everyone knows it’s not. don’t be so hard on yourself.” your words made him laugh. a genuine one this time, it wasn’t sorrowful or somber like the previous ones. 
“thank you,” he said. “i’ll take it easy. i didn't think this trip would become so sentimental. did i bore you?” he asked mischievously. you shook your head no, the two of you exchanging pleasant smiles. 
you stretched your arms. how long were the two of you sitting on the wooden bench anyway? the sun was disappearing and leaving behind a trail of vibrant vermillion in its wake. it was already five o’clock. 
when the two of you peeked inside the convenience store, you saw april talking with her husband by the cash register. she noticed you two, turning to say, “there they are! did you have fun out there?”
apparently she had finished washing the kittens a long time ago, even having enough time to prepare dinner. a large dinner, enough to feed an army. “we didn’t want to interrupt the sweet moment so we waited,” april beamed while you, atsumu, and her husband followed behind on the staircase. 
atsumu whispered to you, “should i be here?” 
you nodded. after all, april’s homemade meals were the best. no amount of restaurants could compare, you knew he would be missing out if he didn’t give it a try. 
thankfully, dinner wasn’t awkward. april’s husband got along well with your co-star, minus the first interaction when he’d mistaken him for your boyfriend. it was becoming a running joke but you didn’t mind. you finally had the chance to sit down and talk to april and her husband, reminiscing about what happened during the time when you didn’t visit. you mentioned your previous film—vengeance—and the two of them chatted about your amazing performance. apparently everyone in town stopped what they were doing to watch it the day it aired. they were your first ever supporters after all. 
you also mentioned your friends, to which april smiled in relief. then you talked about your new film and gestured towards atsumu, your co-star who was caught off guard with food stuffed in his mouth. you left out all the bad parts in your story, focusing mainly on your “friendly” competition at the amusement park and the fun trip to the record store slash beach. you also mentioned jolie and the others, even director sage and how he looked better in person. 
atsumu got to talk too: about his twin brother and their volleyball experience during high school. atsumu boasted about being the number one setter and april’s husband, who you’ve known since childhood, brought up unexpectedly about how he’d played once as well. 
“captain of my team,” he laughed with his whole body. “that was my prime.”
it got to the point where all the dirty dishes were cleaned off the table and april brought out peeled tangerines. you got to play with the kittens while atsumu and april’s husband continued to converse about volleyball. it was endearing and bittersweet that the two of you had to leave. you wanted to freeze the moment—you’d forgotten how nice it felt to be back in your hometown. 
“must you go already?” april asked, standing at the door of her convenience store. her husband chimed in, “if they don’t catch the train, they’ll be stuck here.” 
she nudged him with an annoyed expression. “that’s what i’m trying to do.” she turned back towards you. “the whole town’s excited for your new film, y/n. we’ll definitely watch it so make sure to visit again. you as well, atsumu.” 
the two of you thanked them for dinner, saying your farewells and heading to the train station. 
“thank you for bringing me here,” atsumu said as you waited on the platform. 
“did i one up you? be honest.” 
he replied hesitantly, “yes. i have to admit your hometown is pretty nice.” 
“then let me borrow your jacket again on the train.” 
“oh? you’re finally gonna go to sleep?”
your eyes widened in embarrassment. “you knew?” he smirked at your dazed expression. “how could i not? kind of hard when you were wriggling in your seat trying to get comfortable.” 
“i will fall asleep this time. today’s been really exhausting.” 
atsumu peered down at you, saying, “good work today, y/n, and…”
he didn’t get to finish his sentence, interrupted by the roaring of the approaching train. you stepped inside, turning to ask, “what did you say?” 
“nevermind,” he smiled. “let’s get to our seats before we both fall asleep standing up.” 
atsumu had told you many things today, but the unspoken ones might’ve been the most important. he wanted to tell you again that he was sorry for everything. and he wanted to tell you that he was glad you were his co-star.
masterlist ⌒☆ previous ⌒☆ next
fun facts:
director sage did NOT like working with emma one bit, but he made sure to hide his disdain at all times.
when atsumu went to audition for director sage's previous film, he went with a friend of his. she practiced for the main role relentlessly but her audition didn't pass. atsumu always held a grudge towards emma for stealing his friend's chance; if it weren't for her, his friend would've gotten the role. she was a better actress than emma anyway.
y/n and atsumu took a million pictures of the kittens. there were five of them! she sent them all to the group chat for them to gawk at.
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TEACH ME HOW TO LOVE! 。o♡ an atsumu miya smau
synopsis: when y/n l/n, a rising actress, decides to star in a romance film that could make or break her career, she’s unable to showcase her skills, revealing her inexperience within the romance department instead. worst of all, atsumu miya, her co-star and the main lead’s love interest, seems to hate her guts! with absolutely, unbearably zero chemistry between the two, an idea was proposed: spend time with one another in the upcoming weeks. will y/n be able to ignore her professionalism and listen to her heart? and will she, a clueless romantic, be able to pick up on the signs her co-star is sending her?
a/n: FINALYL FINISHED UGHHH I SWEAR THIS TOOK AN ETERNITY hoped u liked y/n and atsumu's backstories + his very heartfelt apology + emma being a very bad person
taglist is open! dm or ask to be a part of it! (those bolded were unable to be tagged)
⌒☆ @kqbukimono @empathum @clyver @chosoluv @oceansfloor @sunarots @marga-j @rukia-uchiha-98 @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ast4rg1rl @seiamor @saiewithakatana @usermins @literally-a-ferret @terrarain @iuspired @haruskatana @wolffmaiden @ris-krispie @vellichxrr6782 @animenaces-world @reignsaway @emii4evr @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @yuminako @tojirin @v3nusplanetofluv @vyvixen @secondary-character-25 @tenjikusstuff4 @444choso @mylahrins @deimmortales99 @hisfuture @staywhelmed8801 @dl-yum @nessaasstuff @milesmoralesluvs @101tsumu @ryeyeyer @cherrypieyourface
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hazshit-hotel-hater · 24 hours
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Angel Dust Redesign! (7/7)
FINALLY I AM DONE WITH THE MAIN 7 FREAKS.
Depending how I feel I might throw in some bonuses but these guys are your only guarantees! Going to be posting the full lineup separately because I don’t want to clutter this post!!
God okay where to start. I was talking about them in Husk’s post so let’s go with that. Angel’s clothing restrictions are his necklace and shoes. I might go on a bit of a tangent with this so forgive me 💔
For the necklace let me get this out of the way: yes it is a BDSM thing! I’m terrified people are going to take this as me being a weirdo but please as an adult content creator give me some space to explain before anyone jumps on me and hits me with a metal pipe. The intentions behind symbolism matter HEAVILY. I am against Vivzie’s portrayal of Angel’s abuse and the chain/collar imagery because it is blatantly either her being incredibly uncreative or her inserting her kinks into her shows. I think it is completely fine to use suggestive items in this way as long as the intentions are clear and not just there for no reason.
I would’ve probably done something else like a corset as a restriction, but I’d like to stop being so shy about Angel’s actual job. He is a pornstar and removing that outward aspect of him is taking a big chunk of his character away. I need more people to acknowledge that Angel enjoys sex and actively wanted to explore this side of himself. With the slip chain however, I would also like to portray how things Angel enjoys in his job have been used against him and made him come to resent what he does when he is forced into it. I think thats a pretty understandable thing to show.
This is harder to explain but the gist of it is just don’t be afraid to acknowledge Angel’s job. It’s okay to use sexual things as metaphors. Have you heard any christian song ever/hj
Alright with that out of the way, with the shoes. Angel’s feet are a large insecurity and discomfort of his which already makes his shoes some sort of restriction on their own, however if controlled, they can be made to stumble forward, fall over, etc. I wanted to show how Angel has freedom to go mostly wherever he pleases, though once again, that free will can be taken away very quickly.
I hated his suit so all suiting is gone entirely. He’s supposed to look attractive or eye catching at the very least. I’ve also added back the outer fangs he had in my first redesign!
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I am much happier with the new one in comparison to this old guy. I know it’s only a few months old but you can really see how differently I draw him and the details I pay attention to more like the shape of his hair. Aside from the old one! I wanted Angel himself to still keep the reddish pink to show wrath and destain being masked as lust, except now his clothing is actually the pinkish-purple lust colour and it covers more eye grabbing parts of his body like the chest, hands, hips, and so on.
I don’t think I’ve ever outwardly mentioned Angel having polycoria but he does and it’s probably my favourite feature to draw aside from his hair. About the hair and fur: Angel used to have spots and basic stripes before his contract with Valentino, where afterwards they began to curl into their cordiform shapes. Most physical overlord changes with hair and skin tend to not go away, so depending on who you make a contract with it’s either a fun perk or a sort of scar.
Once again, not sure if I will be continuing with anymore in this specific lineup, but if I do end up posting more of these I really hope you like those too! 💣
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coleskingdom · 20 hours
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Hall Pass
Jay White x Female Reader
NSFW Minors DNI 18+
@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri
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You need these” Jay handing me his sunglasses even though we were just sitting down for lunch in catering. “What? Why?” my attention drawn elsewhere. “If you’re going to stare at golden boys ass like that, at least do it from behind the glasses.” there was no humor in his tone. Just then Mariah walked in Jay reached back for the glasses putting them on as his head slightly followed her across the room.
I roll my eyes dramatically at him “I’ve lost my appetite.” pushing back from the table. “Sit, Sweetheart. If I didn’t eat every time you stared at golden boy , I would’ve starved to death by now.” he growled only low of enough for me to hear. I glared at him, as I took a bite. “A lesser man would’ve left you for your disrespectful eye fucking of golden boy. I however am not a lesser man. In fact from what I hear a romp with him isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” his wink and smirk had me wanting to stab him with my fork.
“ Why are you so ruffled? I saw that flash in your eyes. I’m a fair man, if you want a night of being pounded in to and being called Bruv, I’ll say yes, but you’ll have to say yes to me taking Mariah back to the hotel, but I know what I’m getting into. Those stardom girls are something different all together.”he made the chefs kiss motion. “I’m done here.” pushing back from the table and walking out of the room I heard his laugh as I left , Mariah taking a seat next to him as I glanced back.
“Ugh, I fucking hate him” slamming the door behind me entering into the Bullet Club Gold locker room. “ Who do you hate?” the unmistakable voice of Skye asked sitting up from the couch in the room. “What the fuck?”completely caught off guard staring at her. “ Hey now, Jay said I could lay down in here. He’s a real sweetheart. Seriously though, are you okay?” as she made room on the couch. “ No, yes, maybe. Jays the nod infuriating man I’ve ever met.” Sitting down “ But what did you do?” Nudging my shoulder playfully. “ Apparently I was staring at Wills ass.” she laughed “Its not funny. He then started staring at Mariah. Who the hell can compete with that and she just sat down with him as I left.” I put my head in my hands. “ It’s funny I got in the same situation twice with Kyle. Once for Will and once for Jay.” I looked at my jaw dropped .”Come on, look at him, he’s all abs and attitude. You know what you have. Don’t act shocked that I looked at him.” Smirking at me. “So why Will? Aside from his God like body. I get to say that because I’m sharing an apartment with him and Kyle. What is that keeps pulling your attention away?.” I hesitated “I’m your best friend just tell me.” Her hand taking mine. “ You’re right about abs and attitude with Jay. I don’t know he’s like that golden retriever puppy he’s just so fucking happy and nice. I’ll be fine and I’m gonna stop looking at Will. Jay thinks it’s all about that and I quote be pounded and called bruv. When it’s more like I want to have a burger and a laugh.” I sighed “ I trust Jay implicitly and I get why he did what he did, but he offered me a hall pass for Will if he could have one with her.” looking at my bestie “ Holy shit what did you say? Is Jay really okay with that ?Everyone knows he’s batshit crazy over you.” I got up and began to pace “ I didn’t say anything what the hell could I say, I was pissed and hurt that he’d actually say that. Maybe he’s tired of me, maybe it’s closer to being over than it is for forever. Fuck if I know. I’ve got to get out of here before he comes in here.” moving toward my bag. “Want my opinion I think you are handling too much of his shit? But I’m gonna say this because I love all three of you. Don’t take the hall pass and don’t give him one either. Will’s not for you, but if you want that burger and a laugh come out with me and Kyle, Will, and Mark I can make that happen.” She stood and hugged me. “I’m gonna head out I think you and Jay have some shit to talk about.” she left just as I was debating about following her.
“Sweetheart where are you headed?” Jay’s mocking tone filling the room as he and Skye passed each other. “ None of your fucking business.” walking towards him. “ Tsk tsk you know our rule we don’t leave each other mad. Besides the best part of fighting is the fucking afterwards.” he stalked me till my back was up against the wall. “ So are we done fighting?” his hand tracing my face the other one finding my hip.
“ Mariah not available?” I seethe but my body craves his touch. “You’d look so pretty wearing my hand as a necklace “ his fingers tracing the side of my neck his thumb pressing lightly causing me to gasp. “Sweetheart, there’s no one, that I want or need more than you.” his kiss sure and deep, his hand keeping my focus only on him. “ Keep looking at me like you want to fuck me but you also want to kill me." His hands thread in my hair, as he continues to kiss me. His hips move and he growls a bit of delight in the back of his throat. His hand pulls my hair harder, and it's like I'm completely swallowed by him.
I fall into that kiss, tumbling deep into this moment, forgetting about everything.
His fingers keep dip below my waistband stroking my pussy over my panties, the other hand gripping my ass. His hard body pins me against the wall and I wrap my arms around his neck, going insane with bliss. "You're fucking soaked," Jay’s voice amused. “You're touching me of course I am.” His mouth buries mine, hungry now, and his fingers slip underneath and tease up and down my slit. I'm moaning into his tongue and I don't care anymore as his fingers slide inside of me, fucking me nice and deep. Oh my god, he presses against that spot inside me . My knees go limp and he's supporting my weight as his fingers stroke in and out, hitting the spot over and over. My eyes roll back, l'm moaning, mindless, insane with pleasure, and he's not stopping.
He bites my lower lip and whispers, "Come for me, sweetheart, come on, you need it, don't you?"
"Yes," | gasp, shaking as I shatter on his hand. I come in a sudden rush, my fingers digging into his back, my cheeks tingling. "Good girl”he whispers my head resting on his shoulder.
“Jay, I’m…” his finger on my lips silenced me. “ I took it to far I’m sorry.” kissing my forehead. “Just the idea of you..” I put my finger on his lips this time.
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