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maccreadysbaby · 6 months

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A Hundred Days to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: dog illness (i’m sorry titus)

wanna start from chapter one or read more? here’s the table of contents!

my exact thought process planning this chapter was “how can i hurt someone without actually hurting someone?” and this is what happened. enjoy bentley trying to figure out feelings (and damian).

part fourteen

❝ A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS ❞

THURSDAY — 7:01AM — DAY 13

BENTLEY WOKE UP TO DAMIAN SHOUTING AT TITUS. Which wasn’t very strange — Damian typically went over commands with him in the mornings before he went downstairs for breakfast. Maybe he was being a little louder than normal, but it didn’t bother Bentley. The clock read 7:02am, so he probably should’ve been getting ready for breakfast anyways.

Bentley begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and turned the bedside lamp on, shuffling through clothes in the wardrobe. He settled on jeans, a black Nightwing t-shirt (how ironic, right?) and a red jacket that he was pretty sure he saw in a photograph of twelve-year-old Jason Todd in his father’s files. He smoothed down his scraggly red hair with his hands and silently wondered who’d be at the table this morning.

The Wayne’s had been going on patrol again for a few nights, Bentley gathered that much from hearing Damian’s door (among others) open and close at almost three in the morning for the past couple nights. He was glad they were getting back to their rhythm. He’d hate to be the reason the superheroes couldn’t go out. (Even though that was his entire purpose — he tried not to dwell on that.)

“Titus!”

Bentley glanced at the clock, which now read 7:04am, and he wondered if Dick would be staying at the Manor today.

“Titus, I demand you wake up!”

Bentley turned, furrowing his eyebrows and staring at his door. Damian demanded Titus do what?

“Titus, get up!”

A pit formed in Bentley’s stomach as he realized that that didn’t sound very good. Not at all. He moved forward and pulled his door open, gazing out into the empty, dim hallway. Damian’s door was slightly ajar. The rest were closed.

“Titus, cease his bizarre behavior at once,”

He pulled his feet along like they were tied to cinder blocks, really, really hoping he wouldn’t see a dead dog when he opened Damian’s door. Bruce always knocked before he came into Bentley’s room, right? Except for the nightmare, but he guessed that was a special circumstance. He stood outside of Damian’s bedroom for a few quiet moments, trying to decide what to do, but then he decided he should probably just do something if Titus’s life really was on the line like he hoped it wasn’t.

So he knocked on the doorframe, probably a bit too quietly to be heard, but that was okay because he spoke right after: “…Damian?”

There was a moment of silence, so Bentley took a risk and stuck his head inside the bedroom. (An assassin’s bedroom, his brain oh so helpfully supplied.)

The bedroom lights were on, and Damian’s bed was unmade. Bentley had to sweep the room before he spotted the eleven-year-old on his knees next to the massive dog bed in the corner, only wearing the button-up and pants of his school uniform.

“Bentley, go get my father immediately. Something is wrong with Titus,” His voice sounded strained and very un-Damian-like. He didn’t even turn around when he spoke, his hands hovering uncertainly above the dog. Titus was on his side, jerking and flinching rapidly, and he looked like he even might’ve been foaming at the mouth.

Go get Bruce. Bentley could do that.

He turned on his heel and made toward the stairs, a bit quicker than he usually did. He thudded down the stairs, nearly sliding on his socks when he reached the bottom, bee-lining to the dining room, where he assumed Bruce would be. Thankfully, he was.

He and Jason were already at the table speaking in hushed tones. It seemed to be a serious conversation, given their expressions, and Bentley was suddenly torn.

I have more important things to tend to than you, his father’s voice echoed in his head. Maybe Bruce did have more important things. But Bentley wasn’t there for himself, he was there for Damian and Titus, and if his conversation with Jason was more important than Bentley, that was fine. It probably wouldn’t be more important than Damian.

In his usual awkward manner, though, Bentley had been standing in the doorway the entire time he was thinking about it, and Jason and Bruce were both looking at him now.

“Good morning, Bentley. Is everything okay?” Bruce questioned, furrowing his brow slightly.

Bentley looked down at the hardwood under his feet, twisting his hands together. “Somethings wrong with Titus. Damian asked me to come get you.”

Instead of telling Bentley he’d have to wait, or what he was doing was more important, or simply to go away, Bruce stood up on the immediate. “Alright, I’m coming.”

Bentley blinked for a second, then started back toward the stairs. He heard Bruce mutter something to Jason on his way out. He felt bad for interrupting them but decided he shouldn’t apologize. Not yet anyway.

He worked his way back upstairs with Bruce behind him, all the way to Damian’s room. The man walked in without a second thought and made for the dog bed.

“Titus is unresponsive, foaming at the mouth, and convulsing,” Damian listed off the symptoms like a doctor as Bentley idled in the doorway. “He has vocalized a few times but not much. I… do not know what’s happening.”

“It looks like he might be seizing. I’ll have Alfred call the vet and tell them he’s on the way,” Bruce stated, hunched over the dog, doing things Bentley couldn’t see.

Damian stood up. “I’m going with you, father.”

Bruce hummed. “You need to go to school, Damian.”

“I’m not leaving Titus,”

Damian’s voice wavered. It was subtle, but it was there, and Bruce seemed to pick up on it just like Bentley had. The man sighed after a moment.

“I’ll have Alfred call the school, too. You should change out of your uniform,”

Bruce gathered the massive (unconscious?) dog up in his arms and turned toward the door; Bentley promptly got out of the way.

“If you’d like to come, Bentley, you can,” He stated as he walked through the doorway and into the hall. “I know you care about Titus, too.”

And with that Bruce made his way down the stairs, calling out for Alfred. Damian closed his bedroom door.

More options. Did Bentley want to go or not? He might just be an extra person, someone else to get in the way. Bruce seemed to be leaning toward the idea of going alone before Damian insisted he had to go. He didn’t want to be another thorn in Bruce’s side, especially when something bad was happening.

But… the Wayne’s seemed to flock together when bad things happened, like Dick and Bruce when Tim was sick, or when Bentley had a nightmare. He still couldn’t work out why. But if he was trying to be part of the family, he should try to be like them, right?

Wrong. He wasn’t trying to be part of the family. He was trying to destroy it.

With a groan of frustration, he ran a hand over his face. This was all so confusing.

Damian swung his bedroom open, now wearing a hoodie and cargo pants, leaving his room and closing the door behind him. He rushed past Bentley and made for the stairs.

“Damian!”

Bentley was shocked at his own outburst, because he didn't actually know what he was going to say. What he had been planning to do was go in his room and sulk about having to make his father’s plan work, but instead, he was standing in the hallway of Wayne Manor, staring at Damian, who was staring back at him.

“Do you, uh… want me to… come with you?” God, why was it so hard to talk to people?

Damian stayed silent for a second, sending scrutinizing glances to his younger counterpart, but none of them came across quite as cold as he intended. Bentley was seconds from saying nevermind, but then Damian spoke:

“I believe Titus would find that… acceptable. He has a rather positive relationship with you,”

Bentley wasn’t expecting that. But he quickly nodded, jogging into his room and grabbing his gross red tennis shoes from beside the door before hurrying downstairs in his socks.

The front door was open, and Bruce and Alfred were around the car, and it looked like they were readying the backseat for Titus. The big Great Dane was standing now, and Jason was kneeling next to him, ready in case anything happened. The morning sun was just starting to shine on the Manor.

“C’mon, boys, go ahead and get in. Titus can lay with you,”

Bentley followed Damian’s lead, climbing in the backseats of Bruce’s (very expensive) car that had blankets spread across them. A few moments later, Bruce picked Titus up and put him in the seat between them, and he quickly settled in and laid his head on Damian’s lap. His tail was wagging slowly.

Bentley sighed as he pulled his shoes on and tied them. He didn’t know why this was stressing him out — his father had done much worse, and nothing was even happening to him — but he felt that pesky anxiety buzzing under his skin and in his chest again.

Bruce said a few words to Alfred and then hopped in the driver's seat, and the car took off from the driveway and back through the huge gate.

Bentley watched curiously as buildings and trees passed the windows, tentatively stroking Titus’s fur every few seconds. He didn’t know what seizing meant, but if they were rushing him to the pet hospital, he was sure it wasn’t good. Damian was gently petting his head and watching him like a hawk.

And that’s how most of the drive went. Bentley, despite the circumstances and buzzing nerves, was sort of enjoying watching Gotham pass by as they drove, seeing as he’d only ever seen it at night. The screen on Bruce’s dash said they were four minutes out from the vets office when he glanced at it.

Then Titus flinched, and his legs straightened out, and he made a sad little noise as he started to shake.

“Father, it’s happening again!” Damian called. His hands hovered uselessly for a moment again, but then he settled on continuing to stroke the dog’s head. Bentley, albeit being a bit freaked out, patted the dog’s tremoring back a few times.

He suddenly wished he’d have stayed home — this was all kind of scary.

“Stay calm — just keep him comfortable. We’re almost there,”

Titus kept shaking and making weird noises for what seemed like ever, and he was drooling all over Damian’s pants. It took (seven years? Ten years? An eternity?) for the dog to stop shaking and go limp. Then after a few quiet seconds, during which Bentley’s anxiety was through the roof because this dog might be dead, he lifted his head up and licked Damian’s hand. He smiled sadly.

It wouldn’t take a detective to tell the Robin was worried — which was something Bentley never thought he’d see. But he guessed under all the assassin training and big words and super sidekick stuff, Damian was just another eleven year old, right? An eleven year old who’s dog was convulsing in his lap on the way to the vet.

Bruce pulled into the parking lot of a building made of bricks with huge windows decorating the front. There was a big glowing sign above the door that said Gotham Pet Hospital with a blue heart on it. There were a few other cars in the parking lot, but not very many, and Bentley assumed that was good for Titus because there wouldn’t be other pets in the way.

Bruce got out of the driver’s seat and came around to Damian’s door, scooping the (not unconscious, this time) dog up out of the seats. Damian and Bentley climbed out right after.

The cool, damp morning air felt funny against Bentley’s skin. He shivered involuntarily because it had to be like, forty degrees outside, maybe less. The sun was just hanging over the horizon, bathing the parking lot and veterinarian's office in a bright gold that made it look like their saving grace.

Bentley followed behind Damian, who was following behind his father. An older man opened the glass door for them when they approached, Bruce said thank you, and they all filed inside.

The vet’s office was warm. Bentley’s brown eyes flicked across the large room, coming to settle on the colorful chairs that lined the walls, the big reception counter with a dog that looked like Ace painted on it, and two empty door frames on either side of the room, where he assumed the doctors were.

“Mister Wayne?”

There was already a man in a long white coat standing near the front desk. He had graying hair and glasses perched on his nose.

“Yes, hi,”

“Right this way,”

Bentley hardly had time to glance at the little dog with massive butterfly ears a woman in the waiting room was holding before they were whisked off again, through one of the side doors and into the back hallways. The place suddenly became sterile and white apart from a few colorful bulletin boards on the walls.

“Is what I was told on the phone all the information you have?” The man questioned as they turned left into a little room. It had a doctor’s table and a row of cabinets and drawers inside.

“Yes,” Bruce stated as he sat Titus on the table. The dog was so tall he towered over the vet’s head. Bruce turned and pointed at a trio of blue chairs against the wall, and assuming he wanted them to sit there, Bentley did, pulling his knees up to his chest. Damian did not. Instead, he hovered beside Bruce, near Titus’s head.

“Titus, down,” Damian said quietly, and the large dog laid down on the tabletop instead.

“Well trained, I see,” The doctor commented. “Was he put under any stress prior to the episode?”

Bruce glanced at Damian, who shook his head no.

“Has anything out of the ordinary happened, like getting bitten by a tick, or ingesting something poisonous?”

Again, Damian shook his head no. “I inspect him for ticks every time we return to the house.”

“Did he have any other symptoms at all this morning?”

Bruce looked at Damian, who glanced around. “He… seemed dizzy. And he was repetitively walking in circles. I thought he was trying to lay down, but then he fell over…”

The doctor pulled out a few little gadgets and checked things Bentley assumed was his heartbeat and his breathing. He wasn’t sure what most of the tools did, actually — he’d never been to a doctor.

The vet smiled lightly at Damian. “Alright, thank you,” He shifted his attention to Bruce. “Since he’s alert now, I’m going to order a blood test, MRI, and spinal tap to search for inflammation in the brain that might put us on the right track. You can wait here or in the lobby. Will he respond to a stranger’s commands?”

Damian huffed. “Only if you say his name first.”

The vet nodded and made for the door, ordering: “Titus, come.”

The dog looked at Damian, who muttered: “Go.” And then the Great Dane jumped down and followed the doctor into the hall. The door of the room was closed gently.

It felt like eternity that they sat in those three blue chairs. (It was really only about two hours.) Everyone was silent for most of it, except for the few times Bruce tried to reassure Damian that Titus would be okay, which went unanswered. Bentley took to scanning the things in the room and on the walls — the missing pet photographs all organized on a bulletin board, the fliers for nearby dog-shows, training facilities, festivals and the like. There was even a bright pink one for dog swimming lessons. Bentley thought dogs always knew how to swim.

Then he scanned the doctor’s cabinetry. The multicolored smiley-face pens all sticking out of a smiley face cup on the white countertop, the clear bowl of lollipops he was maybe fifty-percent-sure weren’t for dogs, and a little stuffed cat and stuffed puppy with the office’s blue heart symbol staring at them from the other side of the room. He was just imagining how giving a lollipop to a dog would go when the door opened back up, and the vet came back in.

Bentley tensed in his chair between Damian and Bruce. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he was the one at the doctors or anything.

“Alrighty,” The man started, holding a clipboard in his hand. “Test results should be in this afternoon. We’re going to start him on some anticonvulsants for his repetitive seizures. All signs point to him having contracted bacterial encephalitis, or inflammation of his brain, but we won’t start antibiotics until the tests come back positive. The best course of action would be for him to stay here with us for seven-to-ten days to monitor his symptoms, seizures, and reactions to medication, if that’s okay with you, Mister Wayne.”

Bruce nodded immediately. “Yes, whatever you need to do.”

“Thank you. He’s just waking up from anesthesia, but you can come say goodbye to him before you leave, if you want. He was a very well behaved boy.”

He didn’t have to tell Damian twice, he was already standing.

The doctor quietly led them to another room, where Titus was laying on a table, and his eyes were open but he was sort of out of it. Bentley saw Damian deflate the slightest bit when he saw him. He was thankful he was used to watching for cues from his father or he would never know what was going on with Robin.

Damian approached the table warily, gently lifting a hand and stroking him on the head. “Get better, okay, boy?”

Titus’s silver eyes flicked to him, and he made a pitiful, low noise. If Bentley hadn’t been listening so closely he wouldn’t have even heard Damian add a small, nearly inaudible: “Please.”

“I’ll see to it that he is very well taken care of,” The doctor stated, petting Titus gently. “We’ll call you if there are any changes, Mister Wayne.”

“Thank you,”

Damian hesitantly parted with the dog, and Bentley and Bruce both took turns patting his head before they left.

The sun was high in the sky, indicating that they’d been out for at least two or three hours. The ride home was just as quiet and somber as the whole visit had been. Damian merely stared out the window for the entire drive, and Bentley glanced at him occasionally, wishing he had enough confidence to help, but he didn’t. As much as he hated to admit it, he was still afraid of Damian, and when he was upset would definitely be the worst time to bother him. So Bentley opted for the art of silence.

And they were still silent when they got to the Manor, and Damian almost immediately disappeared without saying anything. Bentley felt bad.

What did Bruce do when Bentley was upset? Sit near him? Remind him he was there? Nightwing tried to convince him everything was okay, that he would be alright.

Yeah, but Bentley wasn’t a baby assassin with a sword. Damian would probably stab him if he sought him out right now. Clean through with a katana, with no regrets, most likely.

People were so complicated. At least Bentley knew what to expect from his father.

So Bentley slinked up to his room, wanting to help but hiding instead, petting Alfred the cat and hoping that Titus would be okay so Damian wasn’t sad anymore.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💛

—

tag list (ask in comments and i’ll add your @!)

@fleur-alise

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blimpixels · 8 months

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To counter your argument of there being "too much piracy" as you stated on twitter, if it wasn't for piracy there would be so much media out there that'd lost forever. I'm surprised you feel that way about this especially these days as we witness multi-billionaire companies nuke different media off the face of the earth that wouldn't survive if it wasn't for piracy. A lot of cultural contributions and their value would be lost forever. To use an example of the library of alexandria, Eratosthenes' most important work Geographika would not have survived at all if it was not for the fact that Strabo preserved many fragments of his work through quotations. While this isn't necessarily the same as piracy, the core concept is still the same. We are witnessing attempts at eradicating third spaces and what they offer for free to their users such as libraries, for example through censorship and defunding. Piracy is becoming more relevant and even more important than ever before, specifically because of the rot capitalism forces on society. I can understand why you might feel that there's too much piracy going around, but please consider why that might be and the importance of preserving culture and the cultural items that come with it.

“so you hate waffles?”

This isn’t countering an argument I made, it’s making up an argument I made because you have worms in your brain and you can’t read the word “piracy” without going on a tirade about digital preservation when they aren’t actually the same thing, despite the overlap.

Maybe ask me about the context of my tweets before going on anon and sending me essays about shit I also already talk about. I could’ve been talking about anything.

Obviously I know and care about digital and physical media preservation, I tweeted that literally coming home from the library yesterday. But that’s not the same as piracy.

Maybe I was talking about how hundreds of artists and SWs personal subscription sites are being regularly stolen and consistently updated and the creators can do nothing about it short of shutting down their patreons and OFs. Obviously it sucks that people even have to have middlemen like this to be financially supported online but people stealing their content isn’t preservation, it’s theft.

As a creator it pisses me off when cumbrained, porn addicted consumers feel entitled to people’s creative and sexual labor. Even when it’s only $5 a month to actually support them.

You should’ve asked me what originally prompted my tweet. I was in a comic book store yesterday and I felt guilt after seeing how full some of the shelves were and seeing books that I’ve read online for free that I could’ve bought and supported the creators with. I try to buy physical media when I can because I hate how streaming services and gaming companies have a disgusting amount of needless control over the content they just so happen to “own”. I’ve talked about this before.

But then of course you’d retort “but most of that money doesn’t go to the creators, it goes to people on top” and I’d say “so what?” I’m not talking about who fully gets the money (though it’s very important), I’m talking about people taking from modern media producers without giving anything back. It’s an unfair exchange. Even if comics were 100% owned by the people creating and printing the books, piracy would still be just as big. Because it’s not about “preservation” for most people, it’s about getting content for free.

Being anticapitalist doesn’t mean not compensating people for their work.

Of course, opinions are nuanced and that tweet wasn’t. But it’s a tweet. They aren’t nuanced. It was barely a sentence. So next time hop off anon and own your words like an actual human being. This isn’t even everything I want to say about piracy and media preservation but I have stuff to do today.

I’m glad you’re passionate about this. It’s important. I actually agree with you on most of the things you said. But also shut the fuck up.

#blimp's asks #blimp’s blogs #I got two private qrts on a 10pm tweet #people people are too damn scared to publicly ask for clarification #chill the fuck out #copypasta ass ask too. damn

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unoscraft · 1 year

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My God, She’s Insane!

Written by Miyuki Watanabe

“What do you mean the world is ending?” Lily Belle was in shock as she read her letter.

“My boss? Out of all the people who would start the apocalypse, it’d be my boss? And I thought

she was the good one.” She didn’t understand what was happening. She had just gotten off work.

“My dearest angels,” she read the letter again, aloud this time. “It has been a pleasure to

guide you all. I know how hard it is to take care of the humans, I have been doing it for hundreds

of thousands of years. However, watching them daily with their ‘peaceful’ activities have gotten

boring. Which is why in three days, I shall do some experiments. Unnatural disasters will be

naturally happening. Acid rain will happen first. The next event is to be announced. This would

mean the work you do now in heaven shall be changed accordingly to their needs. You may use

this chance as an opportunity for a promotion.”

“She’s lost her mind. She has definitely lost her mind! I’m still new here. I’m already so

tired!” Lily was frantic. She searched for her list of addresses. “I need to go to her!”

Lily Belle was content with her job in heaven. She was a mere errand runner but, oh, did

she get tired already. She did not want to lose her job. Not before, and certainly not now. She

sprinted, sprinted so fast outside. Still, she could hear her fellow angels’ negative murmurs about

the new decisions. She was out of breath when she got to an elevator.

“Hell,” she panted, “I’m going to literal hell.” The elevator descended down to the said

place. Once again, she sprinted, looking for someone. “Lucille! Where in hell are you?”

“Lily? You’re in hell. Why are you— I’m working here! I need to impress my boss!” was

the first thing Lucille, a demon in training said to her.

“And my boss is planning to kill the humans!” Lily dragged her old friend back to the

elevator.

“Big boss man upstairs is planning to what?”

“Big boss lady upstairs is planning an extinction!”

As they were going up to heaven again, Lily was almost rapping with how fast she was

talking to Lucille. A combination of complaints said along the way with her summary. Lucille,

however, was just glad to see her old friend again.

“Alright, alright. Okay, Lily, okay. Calm down. So what I’m understanding is that God

got bored and decided to play The Sims 4 on humans. Is that right?”

“What’s The Sims 4?”

“It’s a game the humans made. Life imitates art.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Whatever. Let’s just find a way to stop this. You know I hate unjust punishment.” It was

the truth. Lucille didn’t like the decision. Not because she cared for the humans, but because she

only wants the ones “worthy” of punishment to be punished. A fine demon she’ll become indeed.

There they spent the last three days holed up in Lily’s home, coming up with ideas on

how they’d be able to stop what’s about to happen. It was just them, their thoughts, and delivery

food. Lucille missed her a lot. It was time she told Lily something.

“Lily, you know, if we, uh, die because of this, I just want you to know that—“

“Luci, we’re not going to die. You’re being ridiculous! The plan is perfect. I’m sure of

it!”

The plan was far from perfect.

What Lily oversaw was a slight miscalculation in the schedules. She thought God would

release the rain after three days, not on the third day.

My God, she’s insane. It was the only sentence that ran through Lily’s head over and over

as a big cloud covered Asia.

“What now? Do we go down there?” Lucille didn’t blame Lily. She was always clumsy.

“The reason why I wanted to stop this is because I don’t want more work on my

shoulders. If we go down there, then what’s the point even? That’s more work.” Lily was

sulking, she wanted to quit.

“Well, I’m going down there with or without you. I don’t want another scenario like that

again.”

“Oh, That.” Lily sighed. The specific “that” they were referring to was the time when all

hell broke loose. Literally all hell broke loose. It was not a good sight for angels, humans, and

certainly demons, watch Satan escape from his cage and send a meteor to Earth.

“It was funny, though.” She tried to hide her chuckles.

“Lily, nothing was funny. I’m a demon and it was horrifying. Are you sure you’re an

angel?”

“We both know I didn’t choose to be an angel. But you’re right. Let’s go down there and

save who we can.”

With that, they both talked for a little bit again. Brainstorming for ideas on how to save as

much people as possible. They started in Japan, and stayed there for a few months. It was a

pitiful sight to see them build small communities, trying to bring back normalcy, only to see

hope disappear from their eyes once trees catch fire from the inside out. Whenever they seem to

get back on their feet, a new disaster comes. It was a never ending cycle. Lily turned her back

from her God, now with a new purpose. She couldn’t understand how a being so loving turn into

a monster.

Lily Belle and Lucille stayed on Earth. Gone are their old jobs. They’re what the humans

call the “new protectors.” The angels in heaven do little to nothing. They’ve gotten closer over

the past few months. Some close experiences with death here and there, but it’s nothing they two

can’t handle.

It was night, and for once, quiet, safe.

“Seems like no one wants that promotion.” Lucille laughs, enjoying the little peace they

have as of the moment.

“We were all underpaid anyways. Here is better.”

“Yeah? It better be.”

#MiyukiWatanabe #FlashFiction

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watchmegetobsessed · 2 years

Text

MY BEST GIRL

SEQUEL TO GOOD GIRL

A/N: oh my god! it's been almost an entire year since i posted good girl and its crazy that it has over 4k notes now! you guys have been begging me for a sequel and it took me long to write it, but now its finally here!! so join our lovely couple for one last ride!

PAIRING: CEO!Harry Styles X Reader

WARNING: sexual content (kinda slightly?)

WORD COUNT: 14.3k

SUMMARY: It's been a year since your arrangement with Harry turned into a love story. Now you're living happily with the man of your dreams, but something causes some trouble in your little paradise. Or maybe someone...

MASTERLIST

The expensive, silky sheets are hugging your naked body softly, the mattress underneath you feels like a cloud and makes you want to never get up. You hate how comfortable Harry’s bed is, makes the mornings a hundred times harder and you’re already not a morning person. He should have gotten a wooden box, that would be easy to leave, not this ocean of comfort he calls his bed.

Well, it’s not just his anymore, it’s yours too. Because two months ago you officially moved in with him. You basically already had most of your stuff here, but you finally ended your lease and moved the rest over to his place, taking this next step in your relationship that’s been going strong since that one hell of a night when he barged into the bar you were staying at, you both made a jealous scene of your own before you realized you’ve wanted the same thing all along: each other.

Now he is your boyfriend. Oh God! It sounds so amazing, calling him your boyfriend. Harry Styles, the hottest man in the business is yours and you get to come home to him every day. Well, most of the time you get home before him, but you don’t mind it. You love waiting for him to return from work, all tired but always radiating power, you just can’t keep your hands to yourself. Not that you need to, Harry is always just as eager to be with you as you are.

Sometimes, you feel like you’re a teenage couple, always handsy and horny, so passionate about each other, you have no idea how people around you still put up with the two of you.

Speaking of others, your relationship is so official you’ve already met each other’s parents. You were a nervous wreck before meeting Anne, so afraid she might think you’re not good enough for her son, that you’re just a little girl, not the person she imagined for her extremely successful son. But it all turned out to be the opposite, she was such a delight and kept telling you how happy she was to finally meet the woman who swept Harry off his feet finally.

“Mum, you act like I was ready to live in celibacy for the rest of my life,” Harry protested over dinner when Anne said she thought she would never see him with a woman by his side.

“Well you didn’t bring anyone home, what should have I thought?!” she talks back, making you smile while Harry just rolls his eyes at his mother. “But I’m so glad you are in great hands now,” she added, her hand finding yours on the table, giving it a loving squeeze that almost made you tear up.

Harry met your parents as well and though he looked confident, you knew he was shitting his pants, especially because you told him your dad might be judgmental because of the age difference. Essentially, you were right, you could feel the tension upon arriving even though your mother was an angel and welcomed Harry with so much love. But with a little time and warming up to each other, your dad also saw that Harry is treating you right and that he should be happy about you finding the man you’ve been looking for all your life. Though he didn’t let Harry leave without a fatherly talk of ripping his balls off if he hurts you. Harry took it very seriously while you just laughed at it, because your dad is not the aggressive type.

Now it’s been an entire year of being so hopelessly in love with this man you live with and it’s been the best year of your life. You’ll be graduating soon and you already have a job offer for after school, one you got for your own hard work and not because Harry pulled some strings. You made it clear you don’t want him to interfere in your career and he has been nothing but respectful of your decision. Everything is coming up so great, sometimes you don’t even believe it’s your life.

Soft lips meet the back of your neck and they travel down your naked back, peppering your exposed skin with sweet kisses as you hum into your pillow.

“I know you’re awake,” Harry teases you, his arm snaking around your waist to turn you over. You blink your eyes open rolling to your back as you finally meet his bright green eyes and tousled chocolate locks. “Morning, Love,” he smirks before leaning down he kisses your lips.

“Good morning, what time is it?” you ask, curling your arms around his neck to keep him close to you.

“A little after eight.”

“It’s Saturday, why did you wake me up so early?” you pout at him, but you don’t actually mind it.

“Because we are having brunch with my new partner, remember?” he hums, kissing your lips again before peeling himself out of your arms, a whine leaving your lips as you watch him stand from the bed.

A little over six months ago Diana broke the news that she was finally pregnant. Despite the rocky start of your relationship with her, you’d been getting along with her quite well once it was cleared that she is not out to steal Harry from you. When she told you and Harry that she is pregnant you felt nothing but happiness for her, but it also meant that she would eventually have to put work down for a while. It took some time for her and H to find someone to replace her, but the person was found last week and Harry has been bugging you to meet up with Alana, his new partner. So this brunch was arranged with not just you and her but also a few other people from the company who’ll be working close with her. A little get to know each other over great food, that can never be a bad idea.

“Don’t even try to go back to sleep, baby,” Harry warns you chuckling when he sees your eyes closing as he is getting around the room.

“Mm, just… resting my eyelids a little more,” you mumble. A moment later you feel the mattress dipping on either side of you, Harry holding himself up above you, a smirk tugging on his lips when you open your eyes and look at him.

“If you go back to sleep, you’ll miss the chance,” he murmurs, his eyes wandering down your naked chest.

“The chance to what?” you arch an eyebrow.

“To fuck in the shower,” he bluntly says before pushing himself up and heading into the bathroom, leaving the door open. That wakes you up, shower sex is just way too good to miss out on, so you spring to your feet as soon as you hear the water running, joining your boyfriend in the enormous walk in shower, but instead of cleaning up yourselves, you rather get dirty in there…

A few others are already there, people you’ve met at events you attended as Harry’s plus one and you’ve gotten along with them pretty well. When you became official with Harry you were afraid people around him wouldn’t take you seriously and see you as just an immature girl. There were a few occasions that proved your fear right, but most of your experiences have been quite positive. No one really has the guts to treat you bad when you have Harry by your side.

The two of you are welcomed warmly upon arriving, joining the table, but the group is still not complete, Alana is still not there.

“So what is she like?” you ask Harry quietly, secluding yourself from the conversation at the table. He shrugs.

“Highly competent to take Diana’s place, that I’m sure about.”

“And that’s not what I wanted to know. I figured she would be good at the job,” you breathe out, finding it a little funny that this is what he thought you wanted to know about. But before you could rephrase your question, the person in talk walks in. And your jaw drops to the floor.

You like to think that you don’t get jealous and insecure easily. Not after spending so much time with Harry, the absolutely most handsome man in the city. You have to be the real deal to score a man like him. But the moment Alana strides into the place, all male gazes are glued to her tall, supermodel-like figure with legs that never seem to end, her tight dress doesn’t cover much of them either as well as from her cleavage, though she tried to make the outfit decent with a blazer. Her dark, extremely dark, thick hair is in a stylish pixie bob style, something you could probably never pull, at least not like she does. Her makeup is flawless, judging from her features one of her parents might be Asian, her almond shaped eyes appear even longer with the perfect eyeliner running along her lashes. Plump, red lips, freshly manicured nails and a smile that could charm anyone basically. That’s Alana. The woman your boyfriend is gonna work with very closely.

“So sorry for being a bit late, there’s been an accident in my street this morning and I could barely get through the barricade,” she apologizes right away and your blood boils when you hear the British accent.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Harry smiles as he stands from his seat and greets her with a short hug before starting to introduce her to everyone around the table.

Everyone turns into a fangirl basically as they get to meet the woman, as if she was some kind of celebrity, while you’re sitting there, waiting for your turn, trying not to look as insecure as you feel at the moment.

This woman is going to be working with Harry? This is worse than when you met Diana. Bless her soul, but even she looks like a wanna-be Instagram model while Alana is Naomi Campbell.

Last in the line, she finally reaches you, Harry standing next to her as you get up from your seat, plastering your best fake smile across your face, holding out a hand to her.

“And this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Harry introduces you and for a split second, you see the surprise in her eyes.

Ha! Yeah, you heard that right! Girlfriend!

“Oh, girlfriend! Wow, it is so nice to meet you!” she sing-songs as you shake hands shortly.

“Nice to meet you too! Though I don’t work at the company, I’m sure we’ll see each other often,” you smile at her, but there’s some spice in your words. It was a warning, that you’ll be around, so she shouldn’t try with any funny business.

The way she stares back at you lets you know that the message went through, though you’re not sure how she welcomed it. You can’t read her expression as she smiles and nods before you all take your seats and of course, Alana sits next to Harry.

She really is smart, that you can tell pretty early on and it makes you even madder, because she is not only a bombshell, but she also got the brains, which is highly unfair. It seems like she enjoys the attention that she easily gets from all the men around the table, and while you’re trying not to be bitter, you can’t help but feel tense about her entering your life all of a sudden.

“Everything alright?”

Harry’s hand squeezes your thigh gently under the table, grabbing your attention. Glancing up at him from your plate you nod with a soft smile, even though you want nothing else than leave as soon as possible.

“Yeah, just… got a bit lost in my thoughts.”

“Hope you are not stressing about school again,” he smiles at you curiously, making you laugh.

You’ve been a little all over the place about finishing school, there were times when you really didn’t think you’d finish, but Harry was always the one who pulled you back into reality and made you realize that you got this. He truly is your biggest fan and he is also convinced you have nothing to worry about, you’ll ace everything.

“No, surprisingly,” you chuckle as he smirks at you and leaning closer he kisses your temple.

“You guys look so adorable,” Alana chimes in from Harry’s other side. “How long have you been together?”

“A year and three months,” Harry answers easily. You always get surprised how great he keeps track of it, a lot of men can’t remember dates this well, but not Harry. In fact, for your first anniversary he flew you out to Paris and the two of you spent the most romantic weekend at a luxurious hotel that had the best view of the Eiffel Tower. Though it was your first time in Paris, or even in Europe, you didn’t get to do as much sight-seeing as you hoped, but you don’t mind, because the time you spent at the hotel was just as unforgettable as exploring the city.

“And how did you guys meet?”

“Um,” you hum and then let out an awkward chuckle. “He was a guest at one of my lectures. He asked me out after his presentation,” you tell her giving her the shorter version of what happened.

“Like, university?” she asks, pulling her perfectly shaped eyebrows together.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Wait, so how old are you then?”

You should have expected it. You really should have. But still, you want to slap her across her pretty face to bring it up.

“I’m twenty-two,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh, you’re so young! I wouldn’t have even guessed!” she answers, but you can hear the meaning behind it: “I didn’t think Harry would date a little girl like you.”

As an answer you just give her a forced smile before turning back to your plate, not wanting to carry the conversation on. Bless his soul, Harry is so oblivious to what’s going on between the two women by his sides, but at least he is not giving you a hard time for being jealous.

At one point, Alana excuses herself to go to the restroom and you were planning to go at the same time, but you wait a little so you don’t have to go together. When you think she will be returning any moment you head to the restrooms as well. The room is designed that upon entering the ladies restroom there’s a short corridor and then you have to turn left to arrive to the area with the sinks, the stalls further down. Just as you walk in, you stop at the door upon hearing Alana’s voice who is definitely on the phone with someone.

“No, she is like… ridiculously young. Would have never guessed he would date a girl like her.”

She is talking about you, the sneaky little bitch is gossiping about you!

“I mean she looks pretty, but nothing extraordinary, if you know what I mean.” Your mouth hangs open at her comment. It’s not that you think you are the most gorgeous woman to ever walk the planet, but her words are unnecessarily hurtful, even though she doesn’t know you can hear them.

Leaning against the wall you keep eavesdropping with no hint of shame, if she chooses to talk shit about you publicly, it’s her fault she does it at the wrong place.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she chuckles at something the other person said in the phone. “I was taken aback when I learned that he is not single, but she is no competition. I’ll have him wrapped around my finger in no time.”

Your blood is boiling, this is not how you imagined this morning to go. And the worst thing? You can’t tell Harry. Men are so quick to assume you’re throwing a fuss because you’re insecure and not because it’s the truth and you don’t think he would be different. At least it’s not what you’ve experienced with your previous partners and you don’t want to risk making Harry think that you’re an overly jealous little girl.

Right now, it’s a problem you are facing on your own. And you have to solve it smartly, because there’s too much on the line.

When you hear Alana ending her call in there you quickly leave the restroom and head back to the table, so she doesn’t know you heard her. Harry gives you an odd expression for returning so quickly, but you just tell him you only wanted to wash your hands. Alana soon returns with absolutely no idea that you heard her phone call, which is an advantage for you, but you still have a lot to do to get rid of the woman who is trying to steal your man.

“Leaving without your morning coffee?” Harry asks in surprise on Monday morning when you are rushing around, getting ready to leave a lot earlier than you usually do. Most times he leaves way before you, but now he is still sipping on his coffee when you are about to leave, which is a new thing.

“Yeah, I have an early meeting with a TA who is supposed to help with some of my thesis work,” you explain, putting on some shoes and shoving your notebooks you left on the kitchen island last night into your bag.

“Oh, that sounds great!” he hums, nodding into his mug.

“Yeah. Hopefully this way I’m gonna finish it a little earlier than planned and I’ll have time to double check everything before submitting it.” Rushing over to him you cup his face and kiss his pink lips that now taste like coffee. “See you later?”

“Yeah. Have a good day, I love you.”

“You too and I love you too,” you giggle, before stealing another kiss, then swinging your bag over your shoulder, you’re on your way.

Because there’s still plenty of time before the first classes start, the campus feels awfully empty, just some of the early birds lingering around. As you make your way towards the library, you check the time again to make sure you’re not late. You wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on this TA who is saving your ass with his help. One of your professors offered to link the two of you, his name is apparently Logan, he is doing his masters and his research has a lot in common with yours, so in return for the help he can use some of your data for his work. For you, that’s a fair share and worth the time you save for yourself with having another person next to you.

It’s not hard to spot him, because he is the only one in front of the library, very much looking like he is waiting for someone. He is tall with dark hair and welcoming, warm chocolate eyes. The oversized hoodie doesn’t give away much about his physique, but it couldn’t be that bad, that you’re sure of.

As you walk towards him and he realizes that you’re the person he’s been waiting for, a small smile lights up his face, pushing himself away from the wall before taking a few steps towards you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks and you nod smiling back at him, stretching a hand out for him.

“And you must be Logan.”

“That’s right,” he chuckles softly. “Let’s sit down and have a talk, shall we?”

Luckily, the library opens super early on campus, so you are able to take a table in the far corner where you won’t disturb anyone, not that there are many around so early. You then explain everything you’ve been doing for your research and go into details about the part where you need his help. He listens to you carefully and even takes notes. When you’re done, he tells you what data he’ll be most likely using for his research and then you make up a plan about how you’ll go with the whole thing. He seems super nice and eager to help, so you know the two of you will get along well during this process.

“Thank you so much, you are saving me so much time,” you tell him as the two of you walk out of the library.

“No need to thank. I think it’s beneficial for the both of us,” he smiles at you, swinging his bag to his shoulder. “Where should we meet for our sessions?”

“I’m mostly either around here or at home, but I’m flexible so whatever works for you.”

Logan thinks a little, his eyebrows pulling together as he runs his tongue across his lips.

“Well, the library could always be an option, but I’m not opposed to go to your place to have a little more peace, if you don’t mind it.”

“Sure, both could work for me,” you nod.

The two of you agree on the next time you’ll meet and then part ways. You’re more than satisfied with how it all turned out to be.

This time of the semester has got you a little busy. With the end of your studies nearing, you always have something to do, something to work on, or just simply stress about. The days pass by you in a rush and it all mushes into one big mess, you can’t even tell what day it is.

You get so caught up with school work that for a little while you forget about Alana and only focus on the work you’re doing with Logan, often staying in the library long after your classes. Harry has been full of meetings too lately, the changes coming with Diana’s withdrawal and Alana’s introduction takes up a lot of his time, making him work late sometimes.

But at the end of the day you always go home to each other and for you, that’s all that matters. You’ve sensed that both of you have been in desperate need of some time together that doesn’t end up with one of you dozed out on the couch or in bed. It’s not that you haven’t been in the mood to get intimate with each other, you just didn’t have the energy for it with the workload that’s been towering above both of you.

So on Friday, you cancel on Logan, even though you feel bad about it, but you need to make time for Harry as well.

“It’s all good, I understand,” he smiles at you warmly as you break the news to him. “I’ll work a little on my own tonight, if that’s alright though. My roommate is out of town tonight so I’ll have some peace to go through the data.”

“I wouldn’t want you to do extra work, Logan,” you tell him, definitely not wanting to take advantage of his helpfulness.

“It’s not extra work. Some other day you might be the one working on it alone,” he smirks at you shrugging his shoulders. “It’s fine, honestly. Don’t worry about it. I’ll text you where I ended tonight so you can catch up for the next time we meet, how does that sound?”

“Thank you, that’s a great idea,” you nod, giving him a smile before the two of you part ways.

With a little scheming, you got one of Harry’s assistants to clear out his afternoon, so he can be home on time. Luckily, he wasn’t suspicious at all, he texted you happily that he’d be home by the time you arrive back from school. Little does he know that you’ll be the one waiting for him.

The two of you have gotten so used to Suzan cooking for you, it seemed like a good idea to cook together for once, spending time together, so that’s what you planned. Making a quick trip to the grocery store you buy everything you need for the menu and then head home to change and wait for him in the right attire.

Harry has let you know several times how much he loves seeing you in thigh high stockings, so you’ve bought a nice pair with some lace on the top, matching it with a short dress that will surely drive him crazy if he sees you, the apron covering your front. As you fix your outfit, you can’t help the satisfied grin that tugs on your lips, just when the doorman informs you for your request that Harry has arrived into the building.

Quickly, you put on some soft music and make your way out of the bedroom, waiting for him at the kitchen island with all the ingredients on top of it. He will see you right away when he walks in.

Harry opens the front door thinking that no one is home and he stops in his tracks right away when his eyes fall on your figure. After the momentary surprise, he blinks a few times and you see the tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth as he takes in your attire.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school, miss?” he hums, dropping his stuff onto the couch on his way before he reaches you, his hands immediately finding your waist as he pulls you against him, planting a kiss to your lips before you could answer.

“Wanted to surprise you a bit, got ourselves a free afternoon,” you smirk at him coyly, running your hands over his shoulders until you can lace your fingers through his hair at the back of his head.

“So you had something to do with my canceled meetings today?” he narrows his eyes at you, but he is not at all mad at you, of course.

“Maybe,” you shrug innocently.

“And what did you have in mind, wearing this?” he questions, one of his hands sneaking underneath your dress, giving your ass a nice squeeze.

“We are going to cook together and then have sex on every possible surface in the house,” you state confidently.

“In that order? Can we maybe switch them?” he murmurs, his lips already busy kissing along your jawline.

“Yes, so behave a little,” you giggle.

Well, he tries, at first. But you don’t even get through the first few steps of the recipe when he is fucking you from behind in the middle of the kitchen as you hold onto the countertop, your moans and the slapping noises melting together with the music you put on before. As you expected, the stockings really stirred his imagination and he just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

When you’re both satisfied, you finally finish dinner and you set the table nicely while he opens a bottle of fine wine.

“Diana asked about you today, she’s been missing you,” Harry tells you over dinner.

“Ah, I’m sorry I haven’t been around the office lately,” you sigh sadly.

“I told her you’re busy with school.”

“I’ll text her sometime, maybe we can have a little shopping spree or something. Also, we have to buy something for her baby shower,” you remind him.

“It’s crazy that she is gonna have a baby soon,” Harry hums, seemingly deep in his thoughts.

“But that’s what she always wanted, right? So it’s a good thing.”

“Of course,” he nods. “I’m happy she found her person, the one she can be happy with for the rest of her life.”

There’s something odd in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. Something that’s been definitely running in his head for a while, but not wanting to push him, you decide to wait for him to figure it out himself and bring it up to you whenever he wants to.

After dinner you move outside with the rest of the wine, watching the spectacular view of the city at sunset, just talking and enjoying each other’s company in peace. Once the glasses empty out, you definitely get back in the mood to stick to the original plan you had for after dinner, Harry hungrily tearing your clothes off as you get back inside, ready to make up for the busy times lately.

“Are you still my good girl?” he murmurs into your ear, pressing you up against the dining table before biting into your soft skin on your neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, his shirt abandoned somewhere on the way from the sliding doors to here.

“Always,” you gasp, sinking your fingers into the hard muscles on his back. He growls as his mouth travels down your chest, taking his time with swirling his tongue around your nipples, giving equal attention to both of them as you basically turn into jelly in his arms. He knows your body so well, almost better than you do, he knows exactly what you need to make you go absolutely feral and desperate for him.

His lips are getting closer to where you need them the most as you lie on top of the table, your legs hooked over his shoulders. But just when he could work his magic, his phone goes off somewhere on the kitchen counter, interrupting the fun you’re having.

“Fuck, let me just mute it, baby. I’ll be back in a second,” he growls, kissing your stomach before rushing over to the device that’s still screaming for his attention.

Panting heavily you push yourself up and watch him grab it, but for your surprise, he doesn’t decline the call right away, just stares at the screen.

“Everything alright?” you call after him.

“I… I think I need to take this,” he answers, looking at you like a sad puppy.

“Do it. I’ll be right here,” you chuckle. He sends you an apologetic smile before answering the call.

“Alana? What is it?”

And just like that, you regret letting him choose the call over you. What does that man stealing bitch want from him when you made sure to clear his schedule? You made sure to have his assistant on board with you to get him just one free afternoon and evening, so why does Alana have to ruin your plans?

Folding your arms over your naked chest, you try to figure out what they could be talking about. It’s a good sign Harry is not trying to hide the conversation from you, but you still don’t like it that you have no idea what she is saying.

“No, that’s not—“ he protests against something. “I told you, I don’t want that to happen.”

If she was here, you’d love to get a hold of that ridiculously smooth looking hair of hers and throw her out for bothering you.

“Lana, that’s not happening. Have you talked to George?”

Lana? Since when is he calling her that? Are they best buds or business partners?

“Fuck, okay, okay! I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just don’t let them sign it.”

And just like that, all your plans go out the window because of Alana. You hop off the table and grab your dress from the floor, already knowing you won’t finish what you started.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Harry sighs, walking back to you just as you put your hair up, trying your best not to lose your temper.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, hoping to make yourself believe it’s the truth. Harry cradles your face in his hands as he forces you to look at him while chewing on your bottom lip, still avoiding his gaze.

“Look at me, please,” he begs you, running his thumbs along your cheeks. At last, you give in and lock eyes with him. “I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t truly important.”

“I know,” you say and it’s the truth, but it still feels like shit. And kind of like a déjà vu, just like when he left you in bed that one time Diana was calling him. Because that turned out to be nothing like what you thought it was, now you’re just trying to keep your cool and not overreact.

“I just… really wanted to be with you without interruption or any of us half asleep.”

“I know, I’m sorry, baby. I wanted it too. I’ll try to take care of this issue as fast as possible and come back so I can make it up to you.” He kisses your lips softly, over and over again until he sees the pout disappearing. You link your arms behind his neck and kiss him properly to let him know you’re not mad at him.

“I’ll be waiting,” you purr against his lips and you can tell how hard it is for him to leave you too just from the way he is clinging onto you.

But then he peels himself off of you and getting dressed quickly he is out the door in a few minutes.

You change into some comfortable clothes and then clean up after dinner, and then just wait around for a while, watching TV, hoping to see Harry walk in anytime, but hours pass by and there’s no sign of him so you decide to make the best out of the extra time.

Texting Logan you want to check where he left off so you can catch up with him in work. He answers right away and after exchanging a few messages you find yourself in a video call with him.

“What happened to your plans?” he asks. From what you see, he is probably in his bedroom, notes and books laid out in front of him, his face illuminated by a little desk lamp.

“Uh, don’t even ask,” you roll your eyes, still pissed at Alana for ruining your evening with Harry.

“Trouble in paradise?” he chuckles.

“No, just a series of unfortunate events, I guess,” you shrug and then get down to work.

You manage to get a lot done together and even when Logan has logged out, you’re still lying in bed, your laptop next to you, notes and books splattered over the covers. At one point, you fall asleep, not making it until Harry arrives back home.

It’s almost midnight when he finally makes it back, exhausted and disappointed in himself he wasted the time he could have spent with you, on work. He sighs deep seeing the cleaned up kitchen before he makes his way into the bedroom from where he sees some light coming. When he sees your sleeping form in bed, your laptop illuminating your beautiful face, his heart breaks knowing you had to end tonight alone, doing school work.

He rids himself of his clothes and before going to take a shower, he gathers your notes and books, careful not to wake you up, putting them to the dresser. Then he grabs your laptop and just as he is about to close it, he sees what’s open on the screen.

Though Logan has been offline for a while, his profile is still open since you forgot to close the tabs and shut the laptop off. His picture catches Harry’s attention and he zooms in on it so get a better look at the guy you’ve been spending time with lately.

It’s not often that Harry feels jealous or even insecure. Confidence has become one with his personality, but when he sees the young, handsome lad’s photo, his stomach drops in an instant. He is quick to jump into scenarios in his head where the two of you are doing more than just school work, because in his thoughts, there is no way a guy like this doesn’t fall for a girl like you. The image throws him down the rabbit hole.

Why wouldn’t you be into the age appropriate guy from school who looks good and is probably smart too. You’ve been raving about how great working with him has been, so you must be hitting it off during your study sessions.

Shutting your laptop he puts it aside as well before locking himself up in the bathroom, taking a cold shower to cool himself off.

He’s been definitely the confident one in the relationship, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been pushing his fears of you leaving him down. With the major age difference, Harry always had a tiny, evil voice in the back of his head telling him how you’ll most likely want to ditch him for a younger guy sooner or later and now these fears have surfaced more than ever.

He loves you more than anything. Can’t even imagine his life without you and even though you never showed any sign of not returning these feelings on the same level, he is now doubting himself more than ever.

Returning to the bedroom you’re still sound asleep as he gets under the covers, he just lies on his side and watches you for a bit, completely and so hopelessly in love with you.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, stirring in your sleep you blink your eyes open and see that he is finally back home with you.

“Hey! Sorry, I fell asleep,” you mumble half asleep as you cuddle closer to him, his arms locking around you, keeping you tight in his embrace.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come in time. I’m so sorry, baby,” he mumbles, kissing your forehead.

“It’s okay. I’m just happy you’re home now,” you mumble with a sigh and the way you call this place home has his heart in a grip.

“I’ll always come home to you,” he whispers back.

It’s a god sent gift that two of your afternoon classes gets canceled on a Tuesday, so you suddenly have the rest of the day freed up instead of sitting in class until five. After Harry mentioned how Diana has been missing you, you shoot her a text asking if she wants to grab a late lunch with you. The past few weeks she’s been pulling herself out of business, working less and less to the point where he only goes to the office just once a week, and today is that day.

DIANA: Absolutely!! I wanted to leave early anyway!

Y/N: Great! I’ll be at the office in thirty!

You try to call Harry too, but he doesn’t answer, so he is probably at a meeting. You reach his assistant and she confirms your suspicions, Harry has been in a meeting for hours and is not expected to be free anytime soon. It’s a bummer you won’t be able to see him, but you’re also not going there for him.

You’re already a well-known face in the office, no one ever questions your presence whenever you drop by, the front desk workers usually greet you with warm smiles when you cross the lobby of the building and head up with the elevator. Today is no different.

Diana has texted you that she has to finish one last call before leaving, so you decide to wait in Harry’s office that’s supposed to be empty since he is at a meeting.

“Hi, Daisy!” you smile at the assistant you’ve come to know well, though she is not the only one, she has two part time helpers to handle the workload she’s been dealing with.

“Oh! Y/N, hi! Mr. Styles is still in his meeting, I’m afraid.”

“It’s okay, I’m here to meet Diana. I’ll just wait for her in Harry’s office, if that’s alright,” you say, already heading towards the door.

“Um, sure, it’s just that… never mind,” she mumbles and you can’t really tell what’s gotten into her.

Pushing the massive double doors open you walk in, expecting the place to be empty, but you stop in your tracks when you see an all too familiar supermodel-like figure, lying on the leather couch Harry has in the corner of the room.

Alana is resting there like she has no worries in the world, her skin tight pencil skirt has ridden up on her thighs, showing off the lace on her stockings, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, giving you a nice view of her cleavage. That’s the state she is lying in your boyfriend’s office.

She opens her eyes at your arrival and her eyebrows rise, as if she has the right to be surprised to see you there when she is the one treating Harry’s office like her bedroom.

“Oh! Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming in!” She sits up, but takes her sweet time to fix her outfit, as if she was doing you a favor with covering herself up.

“Didn’t know I should call you beforehand every time I decide to come by,” you quip with an irritated smile.

“Oh, I’ve been just having the worst migraines and Harry is always so nice to let me use his office to crash! They are still working on mine and this couch is just so comfortable!”

“And your migraine gets better when you undress?” you purse your lips.

Originally, you wanted to keep your cool around Alana, not let her see just how annoyed you are by her, but you just can’t hold yourself back, this woman is crossing the line. What if Harry walked in instead of you, finding her half naked in his office? What’s worse, what if he is totally fine with it?

“Ah, I just got hot for a minute,” she smiles and shrugs innocently as she stands up, your eyes immediately sliding down to her perfect body. There is not even one flaw in this woman’s appearance and you hate her for that. “Harry is busy right now, want me to give him a message?”

“No thank you. I’m waiting for Diana, actually.”

“I see,” she smiles, but there’s nothing nice or even remotely friendly in her expression. “I’m sorry about ruining your plans the other day, Harry told me you weren’t too happy he had to come in.”

“It’s just rather upsetting when you make sure to clear his schedule and he still gets called in, you know?” you smile back at her viciously.

“I understand. But this is how this business works. You can’t really understand if you’re not in it.”

This is for sure an insult on so many levels, but it’s mostly calling you out for not being the right fit for Harry.

“Oh, I understand it just fine, don’t worry.”

“The transition is a stressful time, Y/N. And though I’m doing my best to take over things smoothly, Harry is the real boss, it can’t happen without him. He needs to focus on his business now.”

You’re moments away from slapping that perfect little face of hers, the top of your ears are on fire at this point from the boiling rage inside you.

“How nice of you to watch out for him. I’m sure you know just what he needs,” you smile at her with forced sweetness in your tone and from the look on her face, she must think she really did something here with her little comment, but you’re not done yet. “I make absolutely sure he’s got everything he needs at home though, don’t worry. I know he focuses the best if he gets his pleasure just how he likes it and I’ve been paying extra attention to that. He’s got quite the hunger, if I’m being honest, but it’s such a luck we are so good together in and outside of the bedroom.”

You see the evil glint in her eyes when you talk about sex with Harry, one thing she will never experience as long as you’re breathing. You refuse to let her get her hands on your man, not on your watch.

“Good to hear,” she smiles with blank eyes and clenched jaw and you take this as a win.

The door opens and Diana walks in, her plump belly appearing in your sight before her. She is glowing, even more than before, wearing a baby blue flowy dress that’s got enough room for her bump.

“Hey!” she smiles, her eyes quickly snapping from you to Alana and you notice her tensing up just a tiny bit. “I’m done now, you want to get going?”

“Sure,” you nod before turning back to Alana. “Maybe next time you have a migraine just take some pills,” you scoff at her before walking out of the office with Diana by your side.

“Are you currently plotting Alana’s death?”

Looking up from your food your eyes meet Diana’s over the table and she cocks her head to the side, already knowing the answer to her question.

“Is it that obvious that I despise the woman?” you huff with a frown.

“It’s written all over your face,” she chuckles. “What happened in Harry’s office?”

“If I tell you a secret, would you promise me not to tell Harry?” you ask her in a discreet tone.

“Of course, what’s up?” she nods, cupping her bump as an instinct.

“We had brunch with Alana a while ago, her and some other board members. I went to the restroom and I heard her on the phone. I don’t know who she was talking to, but she was talking about me.”

“What did she say?”

“That basically I’m too young for Harry and I’m no competition for her. She wants him, Diana. She wants to take him from me.” Your throat closes up as you say the words out loud for the first time. You’ve been keeping it to yourself all along, but now that you’re sharing it with someone, suddenly it feels a lot more real.

“You heard her say that?” her mouth hangs open.

“Yeah,” you nod nervously chewing on your bottom lip, poking the food around on your plate.

“I kind of knew something was wrong with her,” she sighs shaking her head. “But why didn’t you tell Harry?”

“Come on, he wouldn’t believe me. He would just tell me I’m jealous for no reason because I’m sure Alana has been acting just fine around him.”

“What if she’s been flirting with him?”

“Then fuck them both!” you snap, but you both start laughing. “If that’s the case he is either oblivious to it and hasn’t even noticed, or he did notice and chose to keep it from me. I don’t know which one is better, if my boyfriend is blind or if he acts blind.”

“Y/N, Harry is obsessed with you. He would never do anything to hurt you.”

“But I’m not like Alana,” you groan. “I’m too young for him, I’m not a business genius like him and I definitely don’t look like Alana.”

“Why would you want to? You look fucking amazing!”

“Not as amazing as she does!” you whine.

“But Harry is in love with you. Does that not matter to you?”

“It does, but is it enough?” you ask the question you’ve been chewing on for a while. Is love enough to keep you together forever? You’re not entirely sure, especially with people like Alana around.

“Honey,” Diana sighs and reaching over she takes your hand in hers. “What I’ve learned from my relationship is that you have to be honest with your partner. If you feel a certain way, you need to share with them and if they truly care about you they will handle it the right way and you’ll get over it together. Keeping this from Harry will probably not end well and as a friend of his, I know he would want to know if you felt this way.”

Deep down you know she is right. It’s childish to keep things from Harry that could poison your relationship. You love him so much, you’d hate it if you messed it up so bad that you end up losing him. It doesn’t matter how scary it is to bring it up, he is your partner and you trust him to treat your emotions and feelings right. Hopefully, he’ll tell you that there is nothing to worry about and Alana is not a threat, at least not to you.

Following your conversation with Diana you’re determined to talk it out with Harry and mentally note to bring it up as soon as possible.

Later in the afternoon you plan to meet up with Logan, but for a change you ask him if he is fine with coming to your place. You’re not quite in the mood to sit around in the library again, today has been way too exhausting to tolerate more people than what’s necessary. He has nothing against the idea so you wait for him at home, setting up your base at the kitchen island with all your notes and your laptop. You’re nearing the end of the phase of data analysis and you can’t wait to get your whole thesis done with already.

The doorman calls up to let you know that Logan is on his way up and you wait for him in the foyer. When he walks in, he stops and looks around with wide eyes, exactly the reaction you were expecting. Not many would think this is how a 22 years old girl lives in her last year of university, most of the people you’re friends with in school share a tiny apartment with more roommates than they probably should while you’re here, living in this luxurious penthouse that’s big enough to hold at least three families.

“Holy shit, Y/N. This is where you live?” he gapes, walking further into the place.

“Well, it’s not exactly my place, it’s my boyfriend’s, I just moved in with him,” you chuckle softly.

“Um, who exactly your boyfriend is?” he asks, following you into the kitchen. It’s not like you go around shouting at everyone that you’re dating Harry Styles, it simply never came up talking to Logan, you’re not hiding Harry.

“Harry Styles, I’m not sure if you’re familiar with—“

“Are you shitting me right now? You’re dating Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you chuckles, finding his shock pretty entertaining.

“I once saw the man at a conference, he looks intimidating as hell.”

“That’s just his tough act, he is a softie, I promise you,” you smile. “Alright, let’s get down to work, shall we?”

You easy into hard working mode pretty fast, making great progress with everything that’s left and you even get more done than what you expected. As a break, Logan shows you his work and what he has used your data for so far. It’s not an entirely different topic, but he is surely working on something you would have never thought of and it amazes you how your work fits into the picture. You start talking about school and then everything but school and while you heat up some leftover for the two of you, your thesis gets forgotten pretty soon as the two of you are just having a nice time together.

Harry got to leave the office a lot later than he intended. It’s been so hard to stop at the end of the day and today has been especially tiring so when he finally parks his car in the garage and heads up, all he can think about is to have a nice dinner with you, then make love to you, preferably either on the couch or in bed and then fall asleep with you in his arms.

He is surprised and not in the best way when he walks into his home and hears a male’s voice along with yours coming from the kitchen. His heart leaps upon hearing your bright laughter, but he is definitely not pleased that you’re not alone.

As he approaches the kitchen a broad back and dark haired head comes into his vision, sitting at the kitchen island with you next to him, two empty plates on the counter, your notes, books and laptop shoved to the side. Laughing at something your guest just said, your head is falling back as he is adding something else, but Harry can’t get himself to focus on what he is saying.

Then you see Harry standing there and though he catches the way your eyes light up, he would rather have you here on your own than with a guy who he assumes is Logan, the only guy that could get him to doubt himself.

“H! Hi! I didn’t hear you arriving!”

Hopping off the stool you stride over to him and pull him down for a kiss that softens him for a second, the touch of your lips working like magic on him, but then his eyes land on Logan again and the tension is back in his muscles.

“Hey baby. Didn’t know we were gonna have guests.”

“This is Logan. We were just working a bit.”

“I can… see that,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Mr. Styles, it’s so nice to meet you!” Logan smiles a tad bit nervously as he holds a hand out for him. “I’m Logan Wright.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he nods, giving his hand a firm shake. “I see you guys are having a break huh?” he nods towards the plates and though it’s not obvious, you can feel the slight spite in his tone.

“Yeah, we actually made great progress so decided to just put it aside,” you nod, examining his face with suspicion and you notice how he is avoiding to look at you, it’s making your stomach churn.

“Alright,” he nods. “I’ll be… in the study,” he sighs before turning around to walk out but you stop him.

“Aren’t you hungry? I can heat something for you or even cook something quickly?”

“I’m not hungry,” he answers shortly and with that, he is out of there.

You don’t like how this just went down, not even a bit and you have to get to the bottom of it before it eats you away with everything else you’ve been carrying with yourself.

“Logan, is it okay if we end this session here?” you turn to him with an apologetic look, feeling bad that you’re throwing him out.

“Don’t be silly, I was just about to say I better get going. It’s getting late and you must want to be with your man,” he smiles at you warmly, not even an ounce of anger in his tone.

“Thank you. I’ll text you about our next time, I think that might be our last one with everything we got done today.”

“Yeah, absolutely, we are so close to the end. Thank you for the dinner,” he nods, packing his stuff and swinging his backpack to his shoulder.

You walk him out and thank him for the work again before he leaves and you waste no time to go after Harry. At first it seems like the study’s door is closer, but getting closer you see that it’s open the slightest, almost like a tiny invitation for you to go in.

“Harry?” you call out softly as you push the door open slowly and poke your head in. Sitting at his massive desk he is turned around towards the window behind him, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city’s skyline. Hearing your arrival he turns around, his eyes flicker to you. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” you ask softly, taking a few more steps further into the room and then stopping.

“No, go back to Logan,” he answers and you catch the bitterness in his tone.

“He went home, it’s just the two of us.” You stride closer to the desk and stop right in front of it, folding your arms on your chest, feeling not too welcomed in the room right in this moment. “Something happened at work today?”

“I just had a tiring day.”

“How about a bath together? I can give you a massage, wash your hair…”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Is it because of Logan? Maybe I should have texted you before bringing him here, I’m sorry—“

“It’s your home too, you can do whatever you want, Y/N. It’s fine.”

There are so many concerning thoughts swirling in your mind as you stare down at him while he is avoiding to look at you. It hurts, makes you feel like something is wrong with you, but you have no idea what it is.

Maybe what you’ve been fearing is now becoming reality. Maybe the point where you’re not enough for him has come.

“If there is anything you want to talk about, I’m here,” you manage to speak up, giving him the opportunity to be honest with you. The silence following your words however is painfully long before he speaks up.

“I know. I have to take care of a few things now,” he says and it’s a clear hint for you to get lost.

Swallowing your tears back you turn around and walk out of there as fast as possible.

Harry knows he has lost his rational side and he is being a dick, but he can’t help it. Walking into his home he shares with you and seeing you have a blast with another man just set his worst insecurities free inside his head and he has no idea how to deal with it.

He has never felt this way before.

Sending you away when all he wanted was to hold you in his arm was a mistake he made out of spite and jealousy and though he knows he is acting like a caveman, the thought of losing you is scaring him to death.

Especially these days when he’s been planning to do something major, something that he never thought he would ever do in his life.

Standing from his chair he walks over to the safe where he keeps some of his most important documents, some money in case of emergency and there is one more thing sitting there. Punching the code in which is the day the two of you met, the safe opens and his eyes land on the tiny, blue jewelry box that’s been hiding in there for months now.

He knew he wanted to marry you for a long time. Maybe not since day one, but he definitely didn’t need much time to fall for you harder than ever and it sparked the idea of marriage in him very early on. He bought the ring just days after your one year anniversary and he’s been trying to figure out the best way possible to propose.

But the more he’s been plotting, the more scared he is getting that you might not be feeling the same way. What if it’s all too fast to you or worse, you don’t plan to stay with him for the rest of your life like he does?

Seeing you with Logan today just strengthened his ridiculous fears for some reason. You seemed so carefree and happy around him, he can’t help but think how Logan might be a better match to you than he is.

He takes a look at the ring and tries to clear his head and control his emotions. There is so much he has to figure out, but he knows one thing for sure. He doesn’t want to lose you and the way he acted was unacceptable. Placing the box back into the safe he shuts it closed before taking a deep breath and heading out of the room to look for you.

As he nears the bedroom he hears your shaky breathing coming from inside and it shatters his heart.

“Baby?” he calls out, walking into the room and finding you sitting on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest, your forehead resting on them. Your head snaps up at his voice and you’re quick to wipe your cheeks, trying to hide the fact that you were crying, but it’s obvious.

Crossing the room he approaches the bed and sits beside you, unsure what to do at first, but then he places a hand to your knee and when you straighten your legs out, it moves up to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he breathes out, while you chew on your trembling bottom lip.

“For what exactly?”

“For… being a dick. I didn’t mean to, I just… I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“But I told you that you can talk to me about anything! And instead of opening up to me you just…” You take a deep breath, swallowing down your tears again as you shake your head.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just came home and saw you laughing around with that guy and I lost my temper, okay?”

You blink at him, trying to comprehend his words, make it make sense how laughing with Logan pissed him off, because it just sounds way too absurd right now.

“What are you talking about?” you breathe out.

“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” he growls clenching his jaw.

“Seeing me with him? We were working on my thesis, Harry.”

“It didn’t look like that,” he answers right away, his anger and jealousy starting to bubble in his chest again. “I don’t like that he is around you.”

“I repeat, we are working on my thesis, he has helped me so much with my analysis, I would be nowhere without him. Why are you making it to be something it’s not?”

“How do I know it’s not?” he snaps suddenly, once again losing his temper and deep down he knows it’s not how he should be dealing with the situation, but right now he is seeing red. Jumping to his feet he starts pacing the room, his hands on his hips and his chest is heaving. “How do I know what’s happening during these study sessions?!”

“Harry, do you even hear yourself? This is fucking nonsense!” you snap back, taken aback by the accusation. “And if I’m being honest, very ridiculous coming from you,” you add scoffing. He stops and looks at you with his eyes practically on fire.

“And what does that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you being jealous of Logan is basically a joke when you’re working with Alana! She is fucking obsessed with you and I know for a fact she is trying to seduce you!”

“You’re just making this up to cover your mess right now. Alana would never do anything, Y/N, where is this even coming from?!” he raises his voice, but you are not gonna shut up this time. It’s not how you planned to bring the issue up, but you will not let him accuse you of cheating when he is the one working closely together with the woman who wants to fuck him.

“It’s coming from facts! I’ve heard her talking about it before and when I was at the office last time she was fucking sprawled out on your couch with her blouse unbuttoned, like an open invitation for you to fuck her!”

“What the hell are you talking about, no one is allowed in my office when I’m not there!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! She said you invited her to use the couch! Don’t try to make me believe it’s all a lie!”

“But it is, you fucking made it up because you’re fucking your little study buddy!” he barks and his words are like punches in your stomach.

“You’re the only person I’m trying to fuck, but you’re always out there up in Alana’s ass, or should I call her Lana? Is that how you call her when you fuck her in your office? Just tell me!”

“I’m not fucking Alana! She is my business partner, what’s so hard to understand about that?”

“And what’s so hard to understand about me not fucking Logan and Alana wanting to hop on your fucking dick?” you scream back, louder than you’ve ever been in a fight. Tears are streaming down your face as you’re kneeling on the bed and he is standing at the end of it, the two of you staring at each other with heaving chests and red faces from the heated fight. You’ve had arguments before, but none of those were anything like this. Not even close.

“It’s so fucking typical, that you see a pretty woman and think that she is someone you have to compete with. But news flash, Alana did nothing wrong, she’s been nothing but professional. Can you say the same thing about your little friend?”

After the screaming and shouting he is now talking rather quietly, but it just makes his words even more sinister. And you’re done with explaining yourself for something you never did.

Without giving him an answer, you get up from the bed and rush into the wardrobe, grabbing one of your bigger handbags and start throwing everything you need for the next few days into it. Harry appears at the door and looks at you with bewildered and confused eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” you ask with a sniffle, pushing your way past him out of the wardrobe and into the bathroom.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“It is! Why are you leaving, Y/N?”

“Because I won’t just stay here and listen to your accusations when I did nothing wrong! And if you don’t fucking believe me about Alana, I’ll not fight against her just to be treated as a liar, Harry!” you snap back and something breaks in Harry.

“Wait, no! Please, don’t go, Y/N. I’m sorry, let’s just talk this out, just please don’t leave!”

He runs after you as you return to the wardrobe again, grabbing a hoodie and tugging it over your head, getting ready to leave.

“I need space, Harry,” you tell him when he tries to touch you but you jerk away. “I need to think things over.”

“Baby, just stay here, please. I’ll sleep in another room, I swear I won’t bother you, just please don’t leave!” he begs, but you still don’t stop. With the bag and a pair of boots you storm out with Harry following you right behind.

“How come you’re begging me now, but when I was telling you about an issue, you didn’t even take me seriously? You made me appear like a liar and a cheater, Harry. And I’m neither of those.” Dropping your boots in the foyer you start to pull them on, knowing well nothing can make you stay at this point.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for the way I reacted, I was a dick. I just don’t think that Alana would do anything to hurt you or me.”

“See, it doesn’t matter what you think. I, as your partner, told you about an issue and instead of believing me and treating it with care, you used it against me and accused me. And that’s exactly why I was afraid to tell you about it.”

Harry watches you get ready to leave and he is paralyzed, shattered to see you leave because he hurt you so badly you don’t even want to stay in the home you share with him.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his voice barely more than just a whisper. “Please, I won’t go after you, I just want to know you’ll be somewhere safe.”

“I’ll probably go to Cece’s.”

“And when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know, Harry. I need some… time to think. I think you need that too.”

He wants to protest, he wants to beg you to stay, but he knows he has to let you go now, however painful it is.

When you get into the elevator and turning around face him, your heart breaks seeing him so lost and broken as he just stands there and watches you leave.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out just as the doors close.

Even though you call ahead Cece is shocked to see you at her place with your stuffed bag and red, puffy eyes, because of course, you cried through the whole way to her place in the taxi.

“Come on, I’ll make you a tea,” she urges, inviting you inside.

You don’t tell her what happened, you don’t want to talk about it even for a second. Luckily, Cece accepts your silence and lets you be. That night you cry yourself to sleep in your best friend’s guest bedroom, spending the night away from the man you love the most for the first time in so long and it slowly rips you apart.

Harry arrives to the office after getting zero sleep last night. How could he even rest his eyes without having you home? He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he did wrong, which is a lot, and it was easy for him to fall down the rabbit hole.

He fucked up. Big time. He shouldn’t have even brought up Logan, he’s got no idea why it triggered him so badly and why he couldn’t communicate his issues like the grown man he is supposed to be. He knows if he doesn’t figure out how to win you back, he’ll lose his whole world.

He is basically a zombie walking around his office all morning. Zoning out, missing phone calls, only thinking about you and if you truly hate him by now, not wanting to do anything with him.

He is so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear the knock on his door, only snap back to reality when he sees Alana walking in. The sight of her brings back even more pain from last night and he needs to take a deep breath to keep himself collected.

“I sent you over the new versions of the Maxwell contracts, have you checked them out?” she asks, walking closer to his desk.

“Erm, no, sorry. I haven’t. I will do it now,” he clears his throat opening up his emails.

“Everything alright? You seem very… off,” Alana softly speaks, tilting her head to the side.

“I just… Y/N and I had a big fight last night, I’m just worried.” The news are like an angel’s song to Alana, a window thrown open just for her to climb in and never leave. Walking closer with a daring move she sits sideways onto his desk, but he is so distracted he doesn’t even notice how much she is showing from her thigh, his eyes glued to the screen, though he can barely comprehend anything he is reading.

“I’m so sorry, do you want to talk about it? I’m happy to listen,” she coos softly.

“I was just a dick to her. A complete asshole, I don’t blame her for hating me.”

“What happened?”

“This guy was there when I got home last night.”

“She cheated on you?” she gasps, assuming the worst right away, but Harry frowns shaking his head.

“No, of course not. I know she would never do it, he is just helping her with her thesis works. They did nothing, it wasn’t even a fishy situation, I just… lost my temper over seeing her with someone who is younger and probably a better fit for her. I started acting like a dick, even made her cry… I was horrible to her.”

“It sounds like you two are not really on the same page.”

“It was just a momentary slip. I love her, I want to be with her. I just have to figure out how to get her to forgive me,” he sighs leaning back in his seat. “I think I’m gonna take the day off, Lana. I can’t fucking focus on anything.”

“Why don’t you sleep on it a bit? It’s still so fresh, maybe you should think things through.” Alana is quick to try to change his mind, not wanting to let him run back to you this fast.

However Harry finally picks up on what might be happening. Looking up he realizes the way she is sitting on his desk and the sugarcoated meaning behind her words and all of a sudden, everything starts to make sense.

“You know what else came up last night? You.”

“Me?” she smiles innocently. “What about me?”

“She said you’ve been actively trying to seduce me. Do you know anything about that?”

“Come on, that is ridiculous, I would never do that,” she laughs, but Harry doesn’t find the situation that funny.

“Have you been in my office when I wasn’t here?”

“What?” she asks, her mouth going dry. “Everyone knows no one is allowed in here but Y/N when you’re not here. I would never break your rules.”

“Then why did she tell me you were lying on my couch when I was at a meeting the other day?”

“That’s ridiculous, I’m pretty sure she made that up, I haven’t even seen her in a while,” she scoffs, but Harry sees through him, finally.

Pushing himself back from his desk he stands up and heads towards the door. Alana jumps to her feet, panic rising in her guts.

“What are you doing? Do you not believe me?”

Harry walks out of the office without bothering to answer her, heading straight to Daisy’s desk. The assistant’s head snaps up right away and she squares her shoulders upon seeing her boss standing in front of her.

“Daisy, has Alana been in my office when I wasn’t here?” he asks, panic washing over the young girl as her eyes switch to Alana’s form standing not too far away, a ruthless look on her face.

“I, uhh—“

“Daisy, look at me,” Harry tells her and the girl obeys. “You’re not in trouble, just tell me the truth. Has she been in my office before when I wasn’t here?”

Daisy hesitates, but nods at last.

“She… She heard me on the phone with Y/N the other day, she knew she was coming in and she just walked in. I tried to tell her she can’t be in there, but she said you said it was fine. I’m so sorry, Mr. Styles, I—“

“Don’t worry, Daisy. Clear my schedule for the rest of the day, will you?”

“Of course,” the assistant nods eagerly, getting down to work right away as Harry heads back into his office.

“Harry, come on! Do you really believe her? Daisy has hated my guts since day one!” Alana tries, following Harry as he gets back to his desk, the lack of emotions on his face is alarmingly upsetting.

“Daisy has been working here for years and I trust her with everything. Unlike you. Now, I want you to pack your stuff, you’re done.”

“Done?” she gasps with a surprised chuckle. “What do you mean done?”

“That you’re no longer working here. We’ll arrange the paperwork and have you come in to sign your resignation.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“I’m very serious.”

“Even if this crazy story was true, how does that affect my job here?” she scoffs, folding her arms on her chest.

“I will not work with someone who I can’t trust, who tries to hurt me and my loved ones. Your character does not fit into the picture we are building around here.”

“For fuck’s sake! Are you really throwing me out because your whiny little girlfriend is insecure?” she gapes at him, definitely not able to control her emotions like Harry can. “It’s nonsense, you can’t be that into her!”

In the meantime, Harry is packing his stuff up without a bother, getting ready to leave as soon as possible so he can beg for you to forgive him, that’s all that matters right now.

“Harry, stop, let’s talk this out!” she begs, quickly dropping the confident act and trying everything she can to save herself.

“Leave,” he simply tells her, grabbing his phone and briefcase.

“Harry, I just—“

“Leave!” he barks. “I don’t want to see you again. And if you come near me or my girlfriend again, I will get a fucking restraining order against you. It’s not just an empty threat.”

Alana is frozen and devastated, just stares after Harry as he walks out of the room without another word. It’s over for her. She lost.

She lost against you. Not that she ever stood a chance.

You didn’t expect to have another study session so soon with Logan, but he said he wouldn’t make any other days work in the next two weeks so you have to finish your work today. Though you wanted nothing more than to go back to Cece’s place after your classes and just sleep the pain away, you agreed to meet up with Logan.

The night was a total disaster, you barely had just a few hours of sleep and even when you managed to rest, you kept having nightmares of Harry and Alana, walking in on them in a situation you wish to never witness. It still feels surreal, how you parted ways with Harry last night. Everything happened so fast and you felt betrayed by the man you’d do anything for. The way he couldn’t take you seriously about Alana and just kept accusing you felt like a knife was stabbed into your chest with every word that left his mouth.

And the worst part is that you still love him.

You still have no idea what to do, leaving him would destroy you, but staying with him right now feels just as painful.

You’re on your way to the library when your phone starts ringing, it’s Logan.

“Hey, I’m almost there,” you say answering the call.

“Change of plans. Can you meet me in room B23?”

You stop in your tracks, already in front of the library, but you turn around and make your way towards building B.

“Okay, but what happened?”

“Oh, I just, I had class there and asked the professor if we could use the room, thought it would be a bit better. You know where it is?”

“Sure,” you huff. You know that room pretty well, it’s where you had your class with Professor Robertson, the one where you met Harry. You can never pass the room without thinking back at that day and though most of the time it warms your chest, now you have bittersweet feelings about it.

Building B is close to the library, so you’re still on the phone with Logan when you’re nearing the room.

“Are you almost here?” he asks over the phone.

“Yeah, just a minute and I’m there. What’s up? You sound so exciting,” you hum.

“I just can’t wait to finish with the work, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess. Okay, I’m walking in now, see you in a sec,” you chuckle, ending the call. Slipping your phone into your bag, you let out a long sigh and push the door open, expecting Logan to be in there, but you freeze when someone else welcomes you.

“Hi,” Harry breathes out, standing by the teacher’s desk.

“Harry, what are you… Where’s Logan?” you ask, looking around, but it’s just the two of you.

“He is not coming. I asked him to help me a little to get you to come here.”

“What?” you huff, not entirely sure what this is about.

“I knew you probably wouldn’t come here if I asked you, so I’m sorry for playing you, but I just had to talk to you.”

You don’t reply, mostly because you have no idea what to say, so you just keep standing there and he uses the opportunity to tell you what he wants.

“Y/N, I am so sorry for yesterday. I lost my head completely when I saw you with Logan and couldn’t control my emotions. I know it’s not an excuse for the way I acted, but I really am sorry.”

“I just don’t know what was so upsetting about it!” you sigh, folding your arms on your chest.

“It’s nothing you did. It was… I got scared. I saw you with a guy who is your age and smart and he made you laugh and I got scared that one day you might realize that I’m not what you want.”

“Harry,” you deflate, especially seeing the hurt in his eyes. There’s no question he is telling you the truth.

“I know, but I’ve been fighting this feeling for a while. I’m always worried that I’m not the right person for you and I let my insecurities take over me. And the whole Alana thing? You were right.”

“What? Did she do something?” you ask in panic.

“She just tried to turn me against you this morning, but I could finally see clearly. Daisy told me that she really was in my office, just like you said. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I was just… I was too hung up on my issues that I couldn’t see the whole picture.”

“You really didn’t notice anything on her?”

“I didn’t,” he chuckles bitterly. “But only because I’m so fucking in love with you that I see no one else when I have you.”

“You’re so sappy,” you say, the tiniest smile finally tugging on your lips and Harry finally dares to walk closer to you.

“I am and an idiot and such an asshole. I’ve been just so scared that you’d end up breaking my heart, I wasn’t thinking.”

When he is finally standing in front of you, with a moment of hesitation he reaches up to your face at last and cups your cheeks in his palms. His heart leaps out of his chest when you lean into his touch.

“I’ve been scared too,” you speak up quietly.

“About what?”

“The same thing,” you admit truthfully. “That you realize that I’m just a stupid little girl.”

“Oh baby. You’re everything to me,” he breathes out, kissing your forehead. “You’re my good girl,” he smirks. “No, you are my best girl.”

“Stop,” you chuckle even though tears are dwelling in your eyes.

“But it’s the truth. I could never be with anyone else, you’re everything I need and want… God, we’ve been so stupid.”

“Yeah, very stupid,” you chuckle through your tears as your arms wrap around his waist and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. He holds you tight for a bit before pulling back, way too soon for your liking and you’re just about to complain, but he is the first one to speak up.

“And that’s why we need something better to remember this time for.” Before you could ask what he meant by that, he lets go of you and taking just a tiny step backwards, you watch him get down on one knee and you almost faint.

“Harry!” you gasp, seeing him pull out a little jewelry box as he looks up at you with tears shimmering in his eyes while you’re full on crying already.

“Y/N, the moment I saw you in this exact room I was blown away by you. I couldn’t take my eyes off you and I knew I needed to see you again. Thank god that idiot Nick gave me the chance to talk to you, that’s the best thing he has ever done in his life,” he chuckles and you laugh with him through your tears. “I fell for you fast, though we messed it up a bit back then too, both of us so stubborn to just speak up about our feelings, but I’ve been the happiest since then, getting to share my life with you, coming home to you, it’s been my absolute favorite thing and I know that I want to have it for the rest of my life.” He pops the lid of the tiny box open and you gasp seeing the massive diamond ring inside. “These past few days just made me realize even more that you’re everything I need and want in life. So… Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

You’re in shock, you made up just moments ago after your worst fight ever and now he is proposing to you. It’s more than what you can process in such a short time.

“Are you asking me to just make up for the fight?” you ask with trembling lips. “Because I really want to marry, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, I forgive you without the ring,” you add as tears keep rolling down your cheeks.

“Baby, I’ve had this ring for months,” he chuckles, finding it cute how you’re making an excuse. “I was already planning to propose, but I couldn’t find the right moment.”

“So, you mean it? You really want to marry me?” you breathe out, most likely looking like a mess, but Harry still thinks you’re the prettiest thing on earth.

“I would be crazy not to,” he smirks. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, I want to marry you!” you cry out, throwing yourself into his arms, sobbing and gasping, a complete emotional mess, but happier than you’ve ever been. When you pull back and kiss him, your lips are wet from your lips and you can barely breathe, but you just need to feel him and taste him.

“Let me put the ring on,” he chuckles against your lips, the two of you are kneeling on the floor, but you couldn’t care less. Harry takes the ring out of the box and you watch as he puts it onto your finger with so much care before kissing it lovingly. You throw yourself at him again, just hugging each other in silence, bathing in the joyous moment that’s the first one of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” you mumble against his neck, still in shock that all of this just happened.

“I love you too. My beautiful, good girl,” he hums, kissing the side of your face over and over again as he keeps you tight in his arms, never planning to let go of you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #sugardaddy!harry #CEO!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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cupids-crystals · 3 years

Text

Cupid Crystals (Fred Weasley)

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Fred becomes infatuated with reader after accidentally coming into contact with a new shop product.

A/N: No warnings, just fluff!! In case anyone was wondering, this is where my username comes from!! No reader pronouns. My requests are open!!

Dating Fred Weasley meant that you found yourself volunteering in the joke shop night and day. You stocked shelves on the weekends and spent many midnights helping with inventory counts. Nearly half of your dates with the oldest Weasley twin took place in the small office while George took care of the customers.

You loved being in the shop, though. The atmosphere was something indescribable; the sounds of laughter seemed to be permanently ingrained in the air and you wondered how anyone could be upset surrounded by the colorful and curious products.

Fred and George had been tirelessly working on a new line of products for months and the unveiling was only a few days away. One product was a new take on a wizarding favorite – a love potion that only lasted a short amount of time.

Fred was stacking the new love potions – Cupid Crystals as he so cleverly named them – onto the display while you and George were working to set up other areas of the shop. The bright pink concoctions swirled in heart shaped glass bottles as Fred crowded them onto the display stand in the front of the store. He absentmindedly slid the potions out of the box, mind focused on the work the three of you had left before the unveiling of the new products.

Scanning the store for his next task, Fred hurriedly shoved the last bottle onto the full surface. His jarring movement pushed one blush colored bottle off the stand, causing it to crash into the floor. Hearing the commotion, you glanced over to see Fred crouched over the mess a few feet from you. You made your way over to him, ready to help clean whatever mess he had made.

“D’you need help, Freddie?”

The redhead turned to face you, his eyes wide and a dopey grin taking over his features. His hand raised towards you, fingers outstretched to grab onto the hem of your shirt.

“Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here. Missed you so much.” His words were lethargic and slurred, causing you to raise your eyebrows at his odd speech. His fingers curled tighter into the material of your shirt, pulling you closer to him.

“You alright, Fred?”

He nodded, slinging his arms around your waist from where he sat in the floor. When you glanced over, you noticed that one of the Cupid Crystal bottles was shattered next to him. You quickly connected the dots, realizing that Fred must’ve be acting this way because he inhaled too much of the love potion.

His head came to rest on your covered abdomen and you ran your fingers through his bright hair, stifling your laughter at the state of your boyfriend. He was practically purring from the attention as you scratched lightly at his scalp. George had made his way over to the two of you, eyes wide at the scene before him.

“Is he alright?”

You nodded with a look of apprehension. “He inhaled some of the love potion, I think.”

George huffed, eyes downcast onto his brother. He chuckled slightly at the predicament as he moved towards the two of you. Hearing his footsteps, Fred glanced up at George and then up at you.

“Well, he isn’t going to be any help for a while. Why don’t you try to keep him upstairs while the potion wears off? Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”

Listening to George’s instructions, you nodded and attempted to pull the lanky redhead off of you. Fred only tightened his grip and pressed the side of his face further into the material of your shirt. George was in a state of laughter as he left to grab his wand to clean spilled potion.

Trying again to get your boyfriend to move, you cupped his cheeks in your palms and pulled his attention to you. “Fred, darling, will you come with me? I need to get something from the apartment.”

He nodded and rose to his feet, his hands scrambling to keep ahold of you in any way he could. The two of you shuffled towards the stairs, Fred’s arms wrapped around your shoulders while you lugged him through the shop; his awkward and clumsy steps made the trip upstairs nearly twice as long as usual.

When you finally opened the front door, you pulled Fred to the living room and deposited him onto the couch. He curled into the soft material as you glanced around the room for something to keep him occupied. Deciding that you weren’t close enough, Fred sat up suddenly, bringing your attention back to him. He grabbed onto your hand and tugged you to sit next to him on the couch.

“Y/n, you look so pretty. You’re too far away, wanna see how pretty you are.”

Your face warmed at his overt compliments; Fred was always vocal about his affection towards you, but the sudden openness to his words made your cheeks burn.

Fred couldn’t seem to sit still beside you. He moved his hands over your arms, watching his fingertips as they ran across your skin. Still under the affect of the potion, he muttered a string of praises directed at you. The words blended together as he rambled on without a filter.

“- and I just love you so much. Did you know that? Did I tell you yet? I should tell you more. I’ll tell you ten times a day. No, a hundred!”

You groaned at the constant chatter coming from the boy beside you. Surely, you thought, he would pass out if he didn’t take a breath soon. An idea popped into your head of how to pass the time.

“Fred, darling, why don’t we take a nap?”

He stilled at your suggestion, seemingly pondering the option. In a hesitant voice, he answered, “you’ll stay with me?”

You nodded earnestly, moving to lay flat on the couch. You patted the spot next to you, prompting him to lay down as well. The two of you were in a tangle of limbs as Fred tried to stay attached to you. His head rested on your chest and his arms were wound tightly around your frame, practically covering you completely as his body laid overtop yours.

The two of you rested in the quiet apartment, the only sound being Fred’s occasional murmured compliment. His eyelids drooped and he relaxed his grip on you, content with the rise and fall of your chest against his cheek. You were clearly amused with the situation as you giggled at the words tumbling from his lips.

“S’pretty, y/n.”

“Shh.”

“Just love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling. Go to sleep, please.”

After a few rounds of back-and-forth chatter, his light snores filled your ears. You sighed in relief, hoping that he would sleep away the effects of the potion. Your fingers ran over his back lightly, finding comfort in his peaceful aura.

Closing your eyes, you began to feel drowsy as well. Before you could fall asleep, though, you heard the front door crack open and the sound of footsteps move through the apartment. George appeared in your line of sight, a mischievous grin taking over his features.

“Alright, y/n?”

You rolled your eyes and replied in a quiet voice, “if you wake him up, I’m giving you the love potion next.”

He laughed airily and held his hands up in surrender. George looked over the saccharine image in front of him; Fred’s eyebrows were pinched slightly, his cheek smushed against your shirt as he held you in his embrace. Even though the day didn’t go as planned, he was happy to see the two of you have this moment together. George grabbed a thin blanket and draped it over the two of you.

“At least we know the potion works.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #weasley twins #weasley family #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x you #weasley twins blurb #fred x reader #fred x y/n #fred x you #harry potter #harry potter blurb #george weasley x reader

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chil2de · 3 years

Note

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

494 notes · View notes

catholicdaredevil · 2 years

Note

in need of overly clingy matt after finally being vulnerable with you ab his feelings :,) possibly a little teasing around the office about matt following you around like a lost puppy,,

gn! or m! reader? ily

i obviously love this idea since i've made somewhat of a brand out of making matt be disgustingly in love with you and i haven't done any explicitly x m!reader so i'm glad you asked this got a little away from me but it's delicious and i hope you like it

“well it’s like five so i’m gonna head out,” matt announces as he closes his computer, already having unplugged his headphones. he starts packing his things up, placing papers and chords into his bag. foggy catches karen’s eye and rolls his before responding.

“you know you can spend time apart from him sometimes.” even at the vague mention of his boyfriend matt’s grinning to himself, already giddy for the night that’s planned ahead of him. he throws the strap to his briefcase over his shoulder and offers a salute to the two of his friends.

he knows foggy’s joking, foggy couldn’t possibly be mad at anything that brings matt out of his head as much as you do. matt’s come alive in the months since you’ve started, smiling and laughing more than foggy and karen thought possible. so of course they don’t mind when you’re around and he just follows you around like a lost puppy, always wanting to be attached to your side. days at the office when you join punctuated by you and matt curled around each other in separate chairs at his desk, arms wound together in ways that shouldn’t be comfortable.

it’s valentine’s day and you’d made these plans almost a full month ago, just a relaxed dinner at home but no phones and no dd-ing allowed, just for one night matt would give it all up to lay on the couch with you watching a movie until you both passed out. when the smell of your cooking hits him just inside the door to his apartment building he can’t help the way his stomach twists in excitement, heartbeat starting to race in anticipation.

maybe foggy and karen have a point, even matt is aware enough to notice that he’s like a teenager in love with you. he can see it, but there’s not even a crumb of him that wants to change it, too content to hold your hand at every possible moment and kiss you a hundred times a day.

“hey matty baby, how was work?” your voice floats out from his kitchen, and matt’s chest aches in soul-crushing adoration that feels at times like it might bury him. you’ve already queued up a movie onto the tv you bring over sometimes for movie nights. never really one for listening to movie’s before you they’ve now become one of matt’s favorite things fueled by your love for them, and his unending desire to be near you.

it’s easy math.

matt sets his stuff off by the door, and toes out of his shoes before coming to join you. he comes around the corner and you glance up at him and almost gasp. he’s got that lovesick look on his face, the one he usually only pulls out during extreme declarations of love. matt looks so soft, easy smile on his face like it’s meant to be there at all times, not a single line of worry or stress paints across any of his features.

“work was good handsome, missed you.” he moves up to sidle behind you, arms wrap around your waist immediately as he pulls you into him. you lean back, head tipping back to laugh at his corny words. matt wastes no time, slotting his face into the crook of your neck now opened up for him. pressing kisses to the skin he finds, almost nuzzling into you like somehow he’ll just be able to climb into you and live out the rest of his days happy and warm.

“handsome, always handsome. you tryna tell me you can smell handsome on me?” trying to keep a hold of your thoughts enough to not burn dinner is a struggle when you have a six foot lawyer cat practically draping himself over you like the most catholic weighted blanket to ever exist. especially when he’s running his lips over every inch of skin he can find, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles like he’s tasting you.

“mhmm, i can actually, smell very handsome, trust me i’m a lawyer.” matt mumbles into your skin, his hand snaking its way up your body to run through your short hair, nails scratching across your scalp until you moan softly.

the last thing you wanna do is stop him, loving all the affection he gives but, “dinner matty.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #ezra answers #ezra writes #ezra loves their mutuals #ezra celebrates v day

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studiojeon · 3 years

Text

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | - how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :)

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break.

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus.

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would.

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time.

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building.

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?”

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway”

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack.

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

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eliemo · 3 years

Text

Bored of Love

Summary: Virgil knows Roman is going to leave if he doesn't change. But he still has time. He can fix this.

TWs: social anxiety, fear of a breakup, misunderstandings

Notes: Enjoy this little oneshot while I work on some of my bigger projects. Romantic Prinxiety, established relationship

Virgil didn’t know how much longer he could keep doing this.

Which was stupid, he’d put himself in this position. It’d be selfish of him to back out of it now. He might ruin everything irreparably if he even tried.

Virgil could suck it up and deal with this, even if it felt like he was going to die the next time he stepped into a public place the Imagination created for him.

But that didn’t matter. Because this was for Roman- and Roman was beaming. He’d been thrilled all week, eyes lighting up in a way that made Virgil dizzy whenever he suggested another date idea or activity to the Prince, carefully hiding the exhausted waver in his voice that hadn’t gone away after three straight days of taking Roman out.

He’d thought he might have been going a little overboard, offering to go out and do things day after day. He’d been a little worried Roman would catch on to what he was doing. Maybe he’d laugh at how disgustingly desperate Virgil was.

But he didn’t. The Prince just looked more excited each time, jumping up and sweeping Virgil off his feet and into an embrace when a new idea was presented.

And that made it worth it. Roman was happy- happy with Virgil- and that was the best feeling in the world. If it meant Roman would keep loving him, that Roman would stay, a little exhaustion and extra anxiety was something he could live with.

Virgil was just...glad he’d forced himself to do this before it was too late.

He hadn’t noticed it until last week, how...annoying it must be for Roman whenever Virgil wanted to stay in and do nothing. Again.

Virgil had thought it would be ok, that Roman understood that sometimes going out and doing things, being active and social, was just a little too much. He’d warned Roman about it before they’d gotten together, that his anxiety could be an obstacle, that he’d do his best but he’d always prefer to be alone with his boyfriend, held safely against his chest.

And Roman hadn’t cared. Not even for a second. He’d waved it off with grand declarations of love that he’d quickly pushed aside in favor of more serious, quiet promises, holding Virgil close to make sure he understood.

All he wanted was Virgil to be comfortable and happy. All he wanted was for them to be together. If Virgil would let Roman love him, he would be happy no matter what they did.

And that’s what they’d done. And everything had been...perfect. It had been better than he’d ever thought it could be, everything he’d never let himself dare to hope for. Being with Roman made the world feel ok, and the bad days more than worth it.

Virgil loved him. And he was so so scared to mess this up.

Which was why last week, when Roman had actually been annoyed by his introversion for the first time, Virgil had panicked immediately and scrambled to fix everything.

Roman had suggested going out on a date night, something a bit more extravagant than their usual quiet dinner in Roman’s room or in the empty kitchen. And as nice as it sounded, Virgil knew there was absolutely no way he would have been able to handle it that night.

His anxiety had been acting up, leaving him jumpy and tired, and even just the thought of venturing out into the Imagination left him wanting to curl up in his bed and never leave.

And he’d said as much, sheepishly admitting he’d really rather just stay inside for the night. And instead of the usual gentle understanding he got in return, Roman had scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Of course you don't,” he’d muttered. “Come on, Virgil, you never want to do anything fun. Staying inside all day is boring. I’m just trying to do something nice for you like a boyfriend is supposed to do since apparently you can’t return the favor.”

And then he’d stormed off, probably to complain to Patton and Logan, and Virgil he’d been left on the couch feeling like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

Roman had said when they’d started dating that it was ok, that he didn’t care. He wanted Virgil, not the dates and outings and activities. He wouldn’t care if Virgil was too anxious to go out. He’d be perfectly content curling up in bed and watching a movie they’d both seen a hundred times before.

Was that...not true? Had he changed his mind? Was Virgil getting boring? Was he annoying Roman?

Was Roman going to leave if Virgil didn’t hurry up and get it together?

Maybe it was already too late. Maybe Roman had already gotten bored and fallen out of love with him. Maybe there was nothing Virgil could do to convince him to stay with someone like Anxiety.

Beneath the panic, Virgil had recognized he was spiraling. Roman wouldn’t leave him, not out of nowhere. Not over this. Virgil still had time to fix things. He could be better.

Roman had apologized less than an hour later, complete with a bundle of purple flowers and a nervous smile. Virgil hadn’t been mad, of course, and he assumed the apology had only felt necessary because it was impossible for Virgil to hide the fact he’d been crying.

But they were fine now. That had been days ago, and Roman clearly wasn’t giving it a second thought.

But Virgil hadn’t stopped thinking about it, and the next day he’d come to Roman with a date idea, something similar to what Roman had suggested. Virgil had been tired and a little unfocused, but it had been worth it to see Roman positively beam at him.

And then Virgil hadn’t...stopped. He’d kept making plans around their pre-existing schedule for filming and time with the others, more and more piling up until Virgil couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a moment to himself.

It had almost been almost a week now, a week of taking Roman out every day and pushing down panic and exhaustion because Virgil was fine. This is what he wanted because it was what Roman wanted.

Every time a date ended the thoughts would come rushing back, panicked and insistent that Roman was still going to leave him no matter what he did. What if it hadn’t been enough? What if Roman had wanted more? What if Virgil had been too quiet- too boring?

They wouldn’t be silent until Virgil made another plan, took them out again, until Roman smiled with undeniable excitement and led them back into the bustling Imagination.

They had another dinner date tonight, in just a couple hours. Virgil found himself hunched over the breakfast bar in the kitchen, staring blankly at his half empty mug of coffee, and trying very hard not to think about how Logan was staring at him.

“Virgil,” Logan said carefully, and Virgil heard him approach from the kitchen doorway. “Are you...alright?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said quickly, too quickly, because he wasn’t fine, it felt like he was going to break down if he had to do one more thing today. They’d already worked on filming, and Thomas had gone out with a friend that morning, and Virgil just wanted to sleep. “Why?”

He heard Logan move even closer, tensing when the logical side put a hand on his shoulder. “Because you’ve been incredibly active this last week, and that isn’t like you.”

Virgil grimaced and shook off his hand, probably more aggressively than was necessary. “I’m fine. Maybe I like being active.”

“You don’t,” Logan said, and it wasn’t a question. “And there is nothing wrong with that, Virgil. Some people are more introverted than others, and socializing drains them more quickly. Not to mention your anxiety makes you—”

“Yeah, I know,” Virgil snapped, pushing himself off the stool to dump his coffee in the sink. “I’m shit at doing things and I’m trying to fix that.”

“There is nothing to fix, Virgil. Pushing yourself like this will only hurt you. I don’t understand why you’re doing this to yourself.”

Virgil sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing at the edge of the counter to keep himself from having a breakdown on the kitchen floor. Logan didn’t deserve to deal with that.

“I’m taking my boyfriend out to dinner,” he said, hating how his voice shook. “And I took him out a few times this week because he deserves it. That’s all. I’m fine, Logan.”

Logan was silent a moment, Virgil still refusing to turn around. “If you told Roman this was hurting you, I’m sure he would—”

“Don’t tell Roman.” Virgil finally spun around, eyes wide and panicked, meeting Logan’s raised eyebrow.“Please, don’t tell Roman, Lo you can't.”

Logan shook his head, watching Virgil with a mix of something between sympathy and concern. “It is not my place to talk to Roman about this. But I do not recommend letting this continue.”

“I’m doing this to make him happy,” Virgil said, and it sounded small and pathetic to his own ears. “I’m...I have to, Lo. He deserves so much better.”

Logan sighed, short and quiet, and for a second Virgil thought he was going to be told off. Virgil was being ridiculous, and no amount of faking excitement and energy could get Roman to stay with someone like him.

But Logan just reached over to squeeze his hand, smiling gently. “Roman is happier than he has been in years since entering a relationship with you. Please try to remember that.”

And then he was gone, leaving Virgil to try and catch his breath in the middle of an empty kitchen until he found the strength to hurry upstairs to get ready for dinner.

Dinner was great, obviously. It was great because Roman was there, smiling, eyes twinkling as he talked about...something. For the life of him, Virgil couldn’t focus on the conversation anymore.

He was exhausted and the background chatter of the other people in the restaurant (because of course when Roman created something he had to make it as realistic as possible- what was the fun in a date at a fancy restaurant if it was completely empty and quiet?) was grating against his skull. It was too much and as wonderful as it was to see Roman so happy, Virgil just wanted it to be over.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to Roman’s room and climb into bed and sleep against the Prince’s chest and forget about the world.

But he couldn’t, because this wasn’t enough. It still wasn’t enough, he had to do more because the second Virgil showed just how much he hated this Roman would stop smiling, and he’d realize just how awful Virgil was to be with. Roman was a Prince, he deserved so much better than Anxiety, and if Virgil didn’t change—

“Virgil?” Roman had stopped talking, and Virgil quickly snapped to attention when he realized Prince was staring at him, brow furrowed. “Are you alright?”

It took Virgil a moment to notice he’d started shaking, uncontrollable trembling that was impossible to hide when he took a sip of his water.

But he was fine. He was fine and he needed to get over himself before Roman picked up on anything.

“I’m good, Princey,” he said, cursing how weak his voice sounded. “Do you want to go out to breakfast tomorrow? I had some ideas.”

Roman stared for a second, and Virgil’s heart sank when his smile started to drop. “You’re shaking like a leaf, Virgil. Do you feel sick?”

“No.” Virgil squeezed his hands into fists, nails digging painfully into his palms. “I’m fine, I’m...I’m just cold. It’s cold in here. Do you want to do breakfast tomorrow?”

It was clearly a lie, Roman always kept the temperature perfect in his realm, and Virgil felt more like he was overheating than anything.

“Virge...” he reached forward, freezing when Virgil flinched back before he could stop himself. “Honey, you...do not look fine.”

“I am,” Virgil argued, even as tears began to gather in his eyes. “I’m fine, I swear. We’re having a fun time, I’m ok. You’re...you’re having fun, right? You like these dates?”

Roman didn’t respond for a moment, cautiously looking Virgil over before speaking carefully. “I...I do, but—”

“That’s good!” It came out a bit too desperate, and Virgil internally cringed. “That’s...that’s good. They’re for you.”

“But I’m an extrovert,” Roman said. “We know I enjoy being out and about like this. You’re...Virgil, it’s ok if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do. I do want to, I promise. We’re..we’re having fun. You’ve been having fun.”

“I have,” Roman said slowly. “But if it’s at the cost of your mental health we can have fun doing other things. You don’t have to push yourself.”

“Yes I do,” Virgil said before he could stop himself, wincing when his voice broke. “And I’m fine. Do you want to go out to breakfast tomorrow?”

Roman was silent for a long moment, too long, watching Virgil like he was worried the anxious side might break. Virgil thought he might, too.

“Actually,” the Prince started, voice soft. “I was thinking we could stay in tomorrow.”

Virgil hated how quickly his head shot up, hope clawing at his chest when he saw the sincerity in Roman’s eyes. “You were?”

“I was,” Roman said. “I may not be as good as Patton, but I could figure out how to cook us something edible. We could eat it in bed and watch movies, if you’d like.”

It was like a weight had just been lifted off of Virgil’s shoulders, letting him breathe for the first time all week as he wiped away tears still pooling in his eyes. “That...would be really nice. If- if that’s what you want to do. If you’re sure.”

Roman nodded, back to smiling gently, and Virgil couldn’t even try to hold back the pathetic sobs that broke free, leaving him hunched over and trembling in the middle of the restaurant.

He heard Roman’s chair scoot back and for a terrifying second he thought the Prince was leaving, finally giving up on the pathetic mess sitting across from him.

But then there was another chair being pulled up beside him, and Roman had gathered Virgil into his arms and against his chest, letting Virgil cry into his shirt as he held him close.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said, and Virgil didn’t understand why he was the one apologizing. “Gosh, I’m sorry Virgil. I’ve...I’ve been so selfish, haven’t I?”

“What?” Virgil pulled back, still clutching at Roman’s shirt. “You’re not being selfish, Ro. I’m...I’ve been trying to make you happy.”

“I was perfectly happy how we were,” Roman said softly. “I thought you were being more social and I didn't want to discourage you, but I completely missed the signs that you weren’t enjoying it.”

“I was enjoying it,” Virgil said, and it was only half a lie. “You were so happy. You were happy. It was worth it.”

“You’re breaking down,” Roman said, and Virgil flinched. “Nothing is worth this.”

“But—”

“I’m gonna talk to Logan about a day off,” Roman continued before Virgil could argue. “You’re going to sleep in, and I’m going to make you breakfast, and we’ll spend the day unwinding. Alright?”

It sounded amazing, like everything Virgil had been desperately wanting all week long, but...but it was the opposite of what he’d been trying to do. He’d ruined the night, and Roman...Roman didn’t look upset, but...

“Are...are you mad? It’s ok if you are, but I—”

“No baby,” Roman said, soft and gentle in a way that only shattered Virgil’s resolve further. “I’m not mad at all.”

Virgil wasn’t sure he entirely believed that, not when he’d so royally fucked everything up. “I’m...sorry. I’m so sorry, I was just trying to be better.”

He felt Roman freeze, tightening his hold for just a second before loosening again to look Virgil in the eyes. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed, not sure why it was a question. “I’m...look, Princey I know I’m a shitty boyfriend and I- I don’t know how long you’re going to put up with it so I’m...trying to change. I can do better. I promise I can do better next time.”

Roman was silent for a long moment, and Virgil expected him to sigh, begrudgingly admit that Virgil was right, he’d just been hoping his frustration wasn’t so obvious, and agree to try another date tomorrow when Virgil got over himself.

Instead Roman tightened his hold, eyes wide and...horrified? “What on earth are you talking about?”

Virgil frowned back at him, panic and uncertainty coiling in his gut because he hadn’t actually thought any of this needed to be explained.

“I know I hold you back,” Virgil said, continuing before Roman could protest. “You love going out and doing things and I know it’s...frustrating that I don’t. You don’t go on quests as much anymore and you're less active because I like to stay in, and I don’t take you out like I should, and I—”

“I don’t go out as much because I’m happy spending time with you,” Roman cut in. “I’d go out if I wanted to, darling. I like staying in with you. Yes, these dates have been wonderful, and I appreciate them. But I’d prefer to do something where both of us are comfortable.”

“But—” Virgil’s breath caught on another sob, and he tightened his hold on the Prince. “But you said I never...I- I thought you were getting bored with me.”

Roman looked confused, but it only lasted a second before realization took over. “Is this...is this because of the fight we had?”

Virgil shrugged, eyes on his lap. “It...wasn’t a fight. You were honest with me and I tried to fix what I was doing wrong.”

“Oh, baby.” Roman’s hands were suddenly cupping his face, tilting his chin up to meet Virgil’s gaze. “That wasn’t me being honest, Virgil. That was me being an asshole because I had a long day and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Virgil couldn’t see with the way the tears were blurring his vision, but the anxiety that had been relentlessly wrapped around his heart since Roman had lashed out was beginning to unravel.

“Oh,” he said, a little breathless. “I thought...I just wanted this to be perfect for you. I wanted to be good.”

“Neither one of us will ever be perfect.” Roman smiled, wiping away Virgil’s tears with his thumb. “But I love you. I love you so much, Virgil. You’re perfect to me.”

Virgil struggled to breathe around hiccuping sobs still coming from his chest, completely lost because this wasn’t...this was all wrong. “But you...you deserve the best.”

“And I have that. You being comfortable and safe is all I could ever want, Virgil. You’re my world.”

And well...great. Now Virgil was crying in earnest all over again, collapsing into Roman’s chest and letting it all out, melting into his embrace as he once again held him tight.

Roman shushed him gently, rocking them both where they sat, running gentle fingers through Virgil’s hair. “You deserve the best too, Virgil. Please don’t ever put yourself below me.”

“I do have the best,” Virgil said, muffled from where he’d buried his face in Roman’s chest. “If...if you stay.” He quickly pulled back, panic clawing at his throat. “Not- not that you have to stay. You don’t. I’m not...you’re not trapped or anything, I just—”

“I know, Virgil,” Roman said gently, and he relaxed again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ok,” Virgil sighed, breaths still shaky, head rested on Roman’s shoulder. “Sorry for ruining dinner.”

“You didn’t,” Roman assured, rubbing gentle circles along the anxious side’s back. “Would you like to go home?”

Virgil probably nodded a bit too fast, but Roman didn’t seem annoyed in the slightest. He just scooped Virgil up bridal style and carried him through the now silent restaurant. Virgil belatedly realized Roman had gotten rid of the rest of the customers.

“I love you,” Virgil whispered, wrapping his arms tight around Roman’s shoulder when the Prince kissed the top of his head. “I’m really sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Roman said, stern but gentle in a way that didn’t send Virgil’s anxiety skyrocketing. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Virgil nodded, too tired to form another response, closing his eyes and letting Roman take them back to his room. For the first time all week, Virgil found himself looking forward to what tomorrow held.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #romantic prinxiety #logan sanders #fanfiction #writing

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kass-storycorner · 3 years

Note

I really loved your ghost fic with Xiao. But it left me curious to have a second part in which they finally find the way to communicate. Whenever is just to say goodbye and having reader going to the afterlife or getting stuck there forever in an eternal solitary pseudo-company together is up to you, I just want to see them talk 😭

awww, thank you! I'm so glad you loved it (though I am sorry for the sad feelings haha). And I was really struggling to find a way to end that orginal story in the beginning, which is the reason why it ended that way oops. Well, now here is the follow up for it. Compared to the small bit I wrote for Xiao... I mean not even compared to it, this is the longest fic I've posted on here so far? Ah, well. I just had so much fun with it.

Idea/Prompt: a follow up to Xiaos part in this post

Genre: a bit of Angst and Hurt, more comforting than the first part, but if the ending is a happy one is up to you!

Characters: Xiao (Zhongli as side character, mention of Hu Tao, Verr Goldot, a new character I made up that did not get a name)

Format: Text

Word count: 5593

Content warning: mentions of blood, spoiler-y for the second act of Zhonglis story quest and the same spoilers warnings as for the OG post! this is not proof read, I started writing this at midnight and its 5am now ahha fml

The Ghost of you Part II. - To the end

yes we are keeping the mcr names

“Xiao”, he felt an uneasiness in his body upon hearing his name. Where was he? Looking around, Xiao saw he stood in a field of flowers. When did he come here? He had no recollection of it at all. Confused he furrows is brows, worry filling his heart and then- “Xiao.” There it was again, that voice calling out to him. Speaking his name softly, voice filled with affection. Where did it came from? He walked around the field, no end of it in sight, looking for that voice calling out to him. The longer he searched for it, the more his heart was filled with dread. “Xiao.” This time the voice came from behind him and when he turned around, he saw you, holding your hand out to him and smiling. “(Y/N)”, Xiao looked at you in disbelief. Was it really you standing in front of him? Your laugh pulled him out of his trance. “Xiao, why are you standing there like a pillar? Come, take my hand,” and at that you wiggled it a bit, signalling him that you're waiting for him to take it. “(Y/N),” Xiao repeated, standing still and looking at your hand, then to you. “What are you doing here?”. Again, you laughed as if what he said was the silliest thing you ever heard. “What do you mean by that? Xiao,” you shook your head and then you shoot him a bright, warm smile. “You wanted to come here, remember? Now come, take my hand and dance with me before the music stops.” Dance? Music? At first Xiao did not understand what you meant, but then he heard it. In the distance, the low sounds of a flute, a sweet melody that sounded strange but all too familiar. “Xiao”, he heard you whisper his name, speaking so gently. Slowly, he was still a bit hesitant, he reached out for your hand, taking it in his. A smile came across your face at the touch of your hands. With a swift motion Xiao was pulled into your arms, you both at first staying still in that embrace. “Xiao, lets dance, okay?”. With that you both started to waltz around the field, Xiao not knowing how he knew to dance like this, but somehow, he did. The dread that started to spread in his chest earlier was now gone, replaced by the feeling of love he felt for you. Still, there was something tugging at his mind, telling him something was amiss here. It felt familiar, yes. However, it also seemed to be strange to him at the same time. Though Xiao tried to push the nagging feeling away, wanting only to enjoy this pleasant moment with you. Which is why he at first didn’t notice how the sky darkened above them nor that the music had stopped a while ago. As you both stopped to dance, still holding each other in your arms, he heard you call out to him again. “Xiao”, the sound of your voice was filled with pain and when he looked at you in his arms the light behind your eyes was gone, your face stiff and emotionless. At the sight of your dead eyes, he wanted to part from the embrace, but he couldn’t let you go. Xiao saw the blood, saw the bruises and suddenly he was on his knees again, you are laying in his arms. He wanted to cry, wanted to say your name but he couldn’t. It was as if there was no air to breath so he could speak. And then – “Xiao.” His name. “Xiao.” Again. “Xiao.” Over and over again he heard how his name was spoken, but with every whisper of his name the voice became more distorted, louder. Until he cowered in pain at the sound of it, wanting it to stop, wishing for it to stop. “Xiao”.

With that Xiao woke up, his body covered in cold sweat and his breathing erratic. Another nightmare of you, another nightmare of something he wished the both of you could’ve done but never did – because of his shortcomings. Xiao sat atop of a rock, looking over the forest in which your ghost continued to wander aimlessly around. He had been watching you for a few weeks now, trying to figure out what kept you here and how he could help you. However, Xiao was clueless at what could be the cause of this. It was clear to him now that he couldn’t help you, he needed to find someone who could. Looking down at the forest, seeing your ghost wander around between the trees, he softly whispered. “I will be back soon, I won’t leave you again for long, I promise.” There weren’t many people Xiao could ask for help. Back when you were alive Xiao wasn’t the most social, wanting to keep his distance from humans. After you died this habit of his, avoiding others, only worsened. So, the only person Xiao could think of to ask for help in this matter was the same who saved him from his servitude as a bloodhound. Zhongli spend most of the last hundred years among the people of Liyue, but for a few decades now he lived in a remote house. It was now the door of said house Xiao knocked on, knowing that although he could easily enter the house, Zhongli preferred it for him to knock. “Ah, Xiao, it is nice to see you,” Zhongli greeted the adeptus. As Xiao entered the house and followed the tall man into his kitchen, it was a standard practice of Zhongli to drink a tea with anyone who visited, he couldn’t stop to notice that the notebooks scattered around the house grew in number. “So,” Zhongli began his question, “what brings you here? From your troubled look I can tell you didn’t come for the tea or my company.” With that Xiao didn’t waste any time on more formalities, explaining his predicament to the former Geo-Archon. “Mmmh, I see,” he replied, taking a sip from his cup. “I fear I might not be much of help in this case, although I have some knowledge on the topic of the human afterlife, I can’t think of a solution to this. However, it might be best to go ask Hu Tao on advice, as she is way more… let’s say, perceptive when it comes to the dead.” How bothersome, Xiao thought at the mention of Hu Tao. “Zhongli, Hu Tao is long dead”, was all Xiao could say. It happened more frequently now that Zhongli seemed to forget things, small ones but also important pieces of information and this filled Xiao with unease. He didn’t like it that the erosion of Zhongli already was set in motion, thinking about that one-day Xiao might have to face him in battle should he lose all sense of self and sanity. Neither did Zhongli enjoy slowly losing his memories of the past – although he wrote down as much as possible, it bothered him that he had to even rely on his notebooks. “Ah,” Zhongli replied, setting his cup down on the table and with a troubled look, “I seem to have forgotten something again. Would you please help my memory, when did this happen?” “One thousand years might have already passed,” Xiao saw how much it stirred Zhongli up that he had forgotten the passing of a friend. “She had a good life, right? I’m sorry for asking, but I somehow can’t seem to remember much about her later life.” “Yes,” Xiao answered, thinking about the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. There weren’t many humans he tolerated or even enjoyed being around, but Hu Tao was one Xiao always was fond of. She was also the one at the Parlor that day you died, when Xiao came in with your dead body in his arms, he hoped he might find Zhongli maybe he could do something about it, but… Xiao knew there was nothing anyone could do. Hu Tao understood his pain, without a word she showed him where to put your body and prepared your funeral, without even asking for a single Mora. “Then, “Zhongli pulled Xiao out of his thoughts, “maybe you might find help with the new Director, her family always had some knowledge about that human afterlife that’s even a mystery to me.” With that

Xiao said his goodbye to Zhongli and made his way to Liyue. The city of Liyue changed over the last thousand years a lot, but the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was still one of the constants in the city. Xiao couldn’t remember the last time he visited the city, though it must have been a few hundred years ago for sure. He just never really liked it and since, what the humans called a ‘industrial revolution’, the city was even more crowded and overwhelming for Xiao. “Welcome to the Wangshen Funeral Parlor, how may I help you?”, a young person greeted Xiao as he set foot into the building. At the enthusiastic way the person greeted him as he entered a funeral home, Xiao was sure this was one of Hu Taos descendants. He barley could imagine anyone else be so happy surrounded by death. “Are you the director?”, Xiao asked in his usual stern voice. “The 107th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, yep that’s me!” “I may need your assistance.” “Wonderful, I’m always happy to help- oh well, not happy as I am happy for your loss, my condolences by the way, but in happy as I am happy that I can be of help. So, what do you need help with? We have some wonderful new coffins out of a wonderful wood, really they are also very comfortable, not that comfort is that important for someone who’s dead, but I thought it might be also of interest to say that they are really comfort-“, ah yes, Xiao thought, definitely related to Hu Tao. “I don’t need a coffin”, he interrupted the young director. “Oh, um… what can I help with then?”, they asked and then Xiao explained everything to them. At first, he wasn’t sure of the director would be of help, most humans have long forgotten the existence of the gods and adepti, as most of them died or lived a life among humanity, but sure enough the director did turn out to be well versed with the forgotten knowledge of the world. “So, you say the ghost is just roaming around those woods? Nothing else happens?”, the director asked, sitting in their chair in the back office of the Parlor, and they had their hand on their chin, looking like they were thinking about something “Will you be of help now or why do you keep repeating the same useless questions?”, Xiao became a bit impatient now. He just needed to know if someone was able to help you. Without even answering the question the director stood up from the chair and walked towards a bookshelf, pulling a big and old looking book out and opening it up on the table. “Mmmh, from what you’ve described it seems to be nothing to grave, they don’t seem to have become an evil spirit just yet, moreover it seems like they are just one who got lost, though it is surprising that after such a long time the spirit didn’t just turned into something malicious. Normally for most human ghosts it takes a few hundred years until they go insane and well, you know all too well what then happens with an evil spirt I guess.” Xiao was aware what happened to the evils in the world, because it was mostly him. Though he didn’t like to think about it what it would have meant if you- no, he didn’t even want to finish that thought. “How do I help them?”, he didn’t care about any of the other information, he just wanted to find a way to help you. The director pointed at a passage in the book in front of them and continued. “What we have to do is easy if you think about it, I just need something that belonged to the deceased they held dear, a few materials like Qingxin flowers, around twenty should be enough, and the next part is more tricky if you don’t know the deceased that well, which shouldn’t be a problem here, but we need to, well you need to, speak some words that you know are important to them. A story or something like that, sometimes even the voice of a loved one is enough to help to guide the spirits back. Though I will definitely have to accompany that spirit to the border, just to make sure it won’t happen again, you know getting lost, because I can’t guarantee this method will help a second time.” Xiao was quiet. Something that belonged to them, when the director said

those words, his hand immediately flew up to the necklace with the small pendant he wore. Xiao wasn’t the most adept with words, he rather enjoyed listening to what you had to say to him most of the time. He enjoyed the sound of your voice; it was so much more pleasant than his own. One day, Xiao still remembers it so well, your voice said something he did not expect for you to say. “Xiao, I love you.” It took him by surprise, standing on the balcony of the Wangshu Inn, watching the night sky… he suspected that you liked him that way, he did too. Oh, but how he hoped that you wouldn’t say anything about it, like he planned too. Your openness scared him. The idea of being loved scared him, for what was there to love about him? He didn’t want to be a burden to you, his karmic debt, his burden – he feared it would all just make you hate him one day if he let you see it all. That night, after you said these words, Xiao disappeared without a word from your sight. He wasn’t far away, but he wished back then that he teleported out of his hearing range. The sobs that came from you after his departure broke Xiaos heart. After this he avoided you, which wasn’t too hard because you did the same thing too. But with every day that passed when Xiao didn’t see you, hear your voice, his heart grew heavier. Asking himself if he really did do the right thing. Verr Goldet approached Xiao a few weeks after your confession, inquiring why now you didn’t come to the Inn anymore. Xiao did not answer her question, but Verr was a smart woman and at the look in his eyes she understood. “Don’t give up someone you love, only because you are scared of the love you both feel for each other, Xiao”, was all she said. This was the final push for Xiao to finally get over himself and embrace the feelings he felt for you. He didn’t know anymore where the idea came from, but he decided to gift you a handmade necklace along side his confession. Xiao was scared that it might be too late for telling you that he felt the same. However, he knew he had to do it and he wanted to give you something that showed you how he felt too. So Xiao collected the material all around from Liyue, creating a metal necklace and using a small piece of Cor Lapis, your favourite you told him once, as the pendant. With that he looked for you, finding you sitting in the middle of a flower field. “(Y/N)”, he said, stopping himself from continuing when he saw how you jumped at your own name. “Xiao! You scared me!”, you quickly stood up and turned around to him. Xiao wasn’t the most adept with words, he enjoyed listening to you – but you stayed quiet after facing him and you kept quiet when Xiao came closer. “I-“, he began, but unable to speak the words he so wished you to hear from him. Instead, he took your hand and put the necklace in it. “I- I made you this,” was all he could say, feeling how fast his heart pounced in his chest. The look in your eyes, Xiao saw the love you felt for him in them. “Xiao, I-“, he saw how you viewed the necklace in your hand, tears starting to form at the corners of your eyes. Before you were able to finish the sentence or let the tears fall down, Xiao took your face in his hands and kissed you. Yes, he wasn’t the most adept with words, but he learned that he could show you how much he loved you in other ways.

From that day on you wore that necklace every single day, never taking it off since Xiao but it on you after the shared kiss. You joked that it was a physical representation of your love for each other, though Xiao felt like you actually meant it. And somehow it really was. Xiao remembered how that necklace was still around you neck when he took your body to Hu Tao, he remembered that it was covered with your blood. He didn’t even think about taking it off you. It was Hu Tao who gave him that necklace after your burial and since then he hadn’t taken it off. It was the last thing he had of you, the last reminder of your love for each other and every night after your death, when he cowered in pain because of his karmic debt, the cool touch of the stone on his skin helps him to stay sane. Just like the flute he heard even long before he met you.

When Xiao and the director arrived at the forest, they collected the flowers on their way, he could see your ghost again. Walking around, calling for him. His heart breaks every time he had to witness your suffering. “Okay, we have the flowers… do you have something that belonged to them with you, Xiao?”, the director asked, and Xiao shifted his focus from you to them. Slowly he took the necklace off, feeling somehow so vulnerable without it, and gave it to the director. “You know where they start their walk and end it right?”. Yes, Xiao knew that. He had watched over your ghost for the past couple of weeks and noticed that you were walking in circles, without even knowing so it seemed, starting from the place you died and ending up there again. Although your body was buried in another part of Liyue and already long gone, taken back by nature, you stayed here. Where you died. Xiao wished he had come here earlier. Together with the director Xiao made his way to the place where your life ended and your endless suffering in a sort of limbo started, laying down the flowers and the necklace. “And how is that supposed to help them now?”, he asked, not sure how any of this will work. “Like I said, we put down something that belonged to them and was important because they will gravitate to the feelings still connected with that object. The flowers are helping, because they built a bridge between the living realm and what state they are in. Now we just need some words that they have a connection with, in the past it used to be certain prayers because people kept using them a lot, but you know it honestly doesn’t matter what you say, it just needs to be connected to them in some way. Maybe their favourite story or a lullaby, there are many possibilities.” “A lullaby, huh,” this was something Xiao hadn’t thought about in a long time. “Xiao, are you alright?”, he heard your voice from across the dark room. It was the middle of the night, normally he would be out killing monsters, but for tonight you were able to make him sleep with you. When you found out that he never sleeps you were shocked, though he tried to calm you saying that an adeptus didn’t need to sleep. “Maybe you don’t need to,” you told him with a stern look, hands on your hips, “but it will be good for you too, believe me!”. And somehow, after each of you confessed the feelings for the other, you were able to make him sleep next to you some nights. Just for that night his karmic debt plagued Xiao. He sat in front of your window, trying to keep his distance from you, not wanting to disturb your sleep and he didn’t want to worry you. “Xiao?”, you asked again, but instead of an answer Xiao growled in pain. Suddenly you were beside him. “Don’t”, he said through gritted teeth as you tried to touch him. “You’re in pain, let me help you.” He saw your worried painted face, ashamed that you had to see him like this. “It’s fine, I’m used to it. Don’t worry.” “Don’t tell me not to worry when I see the person I love most suffering,” and with that you took his hand. “Please Xiao, let me help you.” Even when he wasn’t in such a weakened state it was hard for Xiao to refuse you and now – all he wished for was your comforting touch. You led Xiao back to bed and when you noticed how he had a fever you quickly prepared a cold and wet towel for him. As you both lied down in bed you took Xiao in your arms. “I don’t know if this will help,” you began after a short amount of silence, “but when I was a child my mother always used to sing this lullaby to help me fall asleep. She even continued singing it when we were older and got sick… it always helps me feel better and at ease, shall I sing it to you?”. Xiao only gave a small nod, not believing it would help when you sang that song for the first time. But it did, you soothed his pain and helped him fall asleep. From that night on you would sing it more often to Xiao, he never asked for it but you somehow always knew when he wished to hear it, especially on the nights when is karmic debt caused him great pain. That lullaby became

another sign of how much you loved each other – the necklace was Xiaos gift, the song yours.

Now there he stood, in this forest that once was just a plain field, the flowers and necklace to his feet singing that lullaby. Xiao never sang it when you were alive, he never sang at all. No matter how much you begged him to sing for you, this was something he always refused to do. Thinking about how beautiful your voice sounded, he never wanted to soil this song with his voice.

It felt like you screamed for Xiao for hours and hours on end, but your voice doesn’t hurt. Where were you? What had happened? In your head you repeated and repeated the last things you could remember again and again. You were walking in the fields, wanting to collect some crystal flies for a commission. Then you remembered that you were attacked, who or what attacked you slipped your mind. However, the fight was tedious and hard… and then you called for Xiao. That’s it. That’s all you could remember. But where was he? Where was Xiao? Didn’t he say he would always come when you called out for him? Why didn’t he come now? You feared that he was still angry with you, though you didn’t know anymore why he even should be angry with you in the first place. The two of you had a fight yes, but… was that it? You spend so much time apart, did he just decide you weren’t worth his time anymore? Did he maybe stop loving you? Those thoughts filled you with dread and you wanted to cry, cry at the thought of Xiao not loving you anymore, but somehow you couldn’t. So you kept calling for him, over and over again. “Xiao,” you screamed. “XIAO!” And then you heard something, at first you weren’t sure what it was, but there was a noise. You stopped calling out for him, trying to focus on where the sound came from, following the direction. It got louder and – was that Xiao singing? The closer you came towards the sound, towards Xiaos voice singing that lullaby… your mothers’ lullaby, the lullaby that became yours and Xiaos. Which he always refused to sing, no matter how much you pleaded. The closer you came you started to remember the things that happened more clearly. How you didn’t want to call for Xiao at first that day, how something hit you in your stomach and how you felt the blood gusher out of you. Yes, you remember how you couldn’t stand anymore and all that was on your mind was Xiao, you wanted to see him again. Just once. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were, how stupid it was for you to fight and how stupid it was to wait this long to call for him. You wanted to say this to him, all of it. But all you remember you said was his name. “Xiao.”

He stopped singing, his head flying up seeing your ghost stand right in front of him. His name. You just said his name. “Xiao,” you said it again, this time he heard you say it clearly and you looked right at him, not through. “(Y/N)”, it came more out as whisper. This is what he wanted. He wanted you to see him, to get out of that limbo, but why does it still hurt as much? “Ah, seems like it worked, great!”, the director interrupted the moment, looking at Xiao and the ghost of you. “I ummm- I’m gonna leave the two of you alone for a while, so you can talk things out, say your goodbyes, yadayadayada.” With that the director walked away and it was just you and Xiao.

“I-“, Xiao began, but somehow his voice failed him. What was there to say? What should he say? “Xiao,” he heard the hesitance in your voice. “Xiao, I am dead, right?”. He couldn’t stand looking at you, his eyes avoiding yours as he gave his short answer. “Yes.” “I see,” you replied quietly. You slowly started to remember the nights you stood on the field, waiting for him to come. “Why,” you weren’t sure if you wanted an answer to your question, “why didn’t you come? After, you know… I- I waited for you. I called you. Why-?”. “I felt guilty. It was my fault, if I just hadn’t tried to push you away again, then you wouldn’t have died, I’m so sorry,” his voice was so quiet, but you could hear how he tried to hold back the tears. “Xiao,” at hearing his name again he looked back at you, you now seeing the tears that pooled at the corner of his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you… and I should have called for you earlier. But Xiao,” you saw how the tears started to fall down his face, “it wasn’t your fault.” He couldn’t hold it in any longer, Xiao fell to his knees, hands in his face and crying. “Please,” he sobbed. “Please, forgive me. I should have protected you that day, I should have come here earlier and see what was happening… please, forgive me.” You walked towards Xiao, reaching out your hand, wanting to touch him. Wanting to take him in your arms, but you couldn’t. It broke your heart. “Xiao, please, please look at me,” he did, his eyes red and filled with his tears. “There is nothing to ask for forgiveness for, you did nothing wrong Xiao. It’s alright. I’m sorry for leaving so soon, for running away that day we had this stupid fight. I don’t even know what it was about…”. “I don’t know either”, Xiao admitted and somehow you had to laugh a bit at that. None of you ever remembered why you fought even in the first place, all of this nearly felt so normal. But it wasn’t. Xiao wiped away the tears from his eyes and stood up again, this time to be able to face you. You looked just like he remembered, except for the see-through part but… your smile hasn’t changed. Even if this was a sad one. “Xiao, how much time has passed since I died?” That question surprised him. “Around…”, he was hesitant to tell you the truth. Should he really tell you? “Xiao,” and you looked at him and he knew that he couldn’t hide the truth. “A thousand years perhaps.” Thousand years, you thought. For thousand years he walked around with this guilt, for thousand years he kept that necklace that still was on the ground… for thousand years he lived his life, still mourning you it seemed. “Did you get over me?”. Again, another question he didn’t expect. Why were you asking him this? Did he get over you? “No, every single day since you died you were on my mind, I couldn’t forget you and I do not wish to. I can never get over you.” This wasn’t the answer you hoped for. “Xiao, I’ve been dead for thousand years. Even if I hadn’t died that day, I would have died on another one. Thousand years compared to what, sixty? Maybe seventy years if I had lived a full life is nothing. Humans are weak after all, aren’t we?”. You didn’t mean to stir him up with your last comment, it was more intended as a joke, alas a sad one, but somehow you struck a nerve within him. “No, they are not. I always said that, but I was wrong (Y/N). I don’t understand how you human can live your life, knowing that you will die, that those you love will inevitably die. How you can idly sit next to people you care about forgetting important things, things about themselves, struggle to remember who they are, seeing them die… and you move forward. I watched over you humans for such a long time, protecting you and I still- I don’t understand how. How can they love again? Where does the strength come from to keep moving forward?”, Xiao’s voice was full of pain, you heard it clear as day, seeing how tears rolled down his face again. You felt that there were even other things weighing heavy on him, not only you, but you knew that you couldn’t comfort him. That this was

something he needed to figure out himself. “Xiao, you will learn. You will understand it one day, it just takes time.” Your voice heavy with sadness and oh, how you wished you could take him in your arms, wipe his tears away and kiss him.

Before Xiao could reply anything in return the director disturbed the two of you again. “So, are you ready now?”, looking directly at you. “No, but I stayed here for far too long now, didn’t I?”, a sad smile coming across your face. You really didn’t want to leave, but you knew you couldn’t stay any longer. It was time. “I will come with you as far as I can,” Xiao had wiped his tears away and stood now right next to you. If you still had a body your shoulders would touch.

Xiao and the director accompanied you to the border of life and death in silence. Before you crossed it you looked at Xiao. He looked so sad, as if he was to lose you a second time. “I wish,” you heard him say, “that you could stay just a bit longer. I know it’s selfish, but I just wished you could have stayed by my side forever. But you can’t stay, and you shouldn’t.” “Xiao, I feel the same. I wish I could have spent eternity with you, but I can’t and it okay. I just want to ask you for one thing, one last promise before I go, okay?”. Xiao looked at you with a heavy heart. “Yes.” “Promise me you will try to find happiness for yourself again, okay? Promise me you will love again, please. Don’t stay alone.” Silently Xiao looked at you to then finally say “I promise.” “Thank you Xiao,” Archons, you wished you could take his hand. “Now then,” you said looking in the directions you had to go. “Time to go.” “(Y/N)”, you heard Xiao say before you left. “I love you.” “I love you too, Xiao.” As Xiao and the director left the border, he stayed quiet, the atmosphere being quite sombre. “Maybe,” the director pulled Xiao out of his thoughts, “there is nothing behind the border and they stopped existing completely. But maybe their soul will now find a way back to you, just in another way? Who knows,” and with that the director left. Xiao didn’t know if he believed that you would find a way back to him, but as it started to rain and as it fell down on his skin, Xiao felt now lighter as if a heavy burden was taken off of him. With that he started to move forward again.

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whythinktoomuch · 3 years

Text

ii. apocalypse now & again

(pt. i)

Kara woke up and realized that she was going to die.

Too many of the drones had survived the explosions and were still closing in on her. What little strength she had left after quite literally digging her own grave was presently and painstakingly strained just from her efforts to climb onto her knees. And on top of all that—of everything that possibly could have gone wrong for her in this moment—her helmet was cracked.

The abstract red numbers warning Kara of the kryptonite levels in the area seemed redundant now, what with that unmistakable chill already flooding her bloodstream.

“… Alex,” Kara gasped out, barely able to hear herself over the ringing in her ears. “Hey, Alex… Are you there?”

Her words were met with not one whisper or even a crackle of static, and for once, Kara was inconsolably disappointed to hear no one yelling back at her. With her teeth gritted, she shoved herself off the ground as hard as she could, drifting barely a foot into the air before the first drone crashed into the back of her head.

Kara toppled back onto the ground, knees skidding across the rubble in a shower of hot sparks. The impact had her head reeling, her mouth filling with a taste that she was now idly recognizing as blood. But there was no time to consider any of that as the drone doubled back. Kara scrambled out of the way, narrowly avoiding another collision, only to be struck by a second drone smashing right against her ear.

Out of breath but swearing, Kara whirled around and snagged the fast approaching drone into a bear hug, squeezing and squeezing until it crunched in her arms with a frantic whir. Then with a burst of heat vision, she shattered the other as it came straight for her face.

Kara used her heat vision to pick off several more drones from a distance, but of course, more and more just showed up to take their place, never wavering, never slowing… and eventually, Kara just had to laugh. Because her exhaustion was catching up to her. And Alex was hundreds of miles away. And to get out of here alive, Kara would have to somehow defeat the entire horde of drones, while all they had to do was wreck her suit a little more.

Though admittedly, it’d be overkill at this point, given the crack now spiderwebbing across the glass visor of Kara’s helmet.

Either way, it was over.

So, Kara laughed, grabbed at her chest in a reflexive gesture only to meet the unforgiving metal of her suit, then dropped to her knees. “Alex!” she shouted herself hoarse, because maybe if said loudly enough, the words would still be lingering in the air by the time her sister arrived. “Alex, I’m sorry, okay? You were right, and I’m sorry!”

Then she just waited—chest heaving, eyes narrowed but never blinking despite the heat pricking at the corners—because she definitely had to see this through to the bitter fucking end. That much, she owed everyone, including herself.

Except the end didn’t come.

Not this time anyway.

No, instead came a silver sphere, emerging seemingly out of thin air to hover right before Kara’s face. It flashed a blinding white just once, and everything fell absolutely silent and still. Kara’s suit powered down completely, the drones collectively dropped from the air like marionettes with cut strings, and all the lights in the immediate vicinity blinked out.

Laughter welling up all over again, Kara could only collapse onto her side in something akin to sheer relief.

The first person to occur to her, of course, was Alex, who had already saved her ass from similar scrapes on many occasions. But that couldn’t be it. Alex was too far away. It’s why Kara had to take on this mission on her own in the first place.

Then she considered maybe Winn or James, which made even less sense, given how the deceased hardly ever came back to do things like save people’s lives. Not even hers. Not even in the most dire of situations. That’s, unfortunately, just not how life worked these days.

Then she considered Alex again because the kryptonite was clearly bleeding into her brain now, and it was getting rather difficult to remember why it couldn’t have been Alex who’d just saved her. Maybe Kara did shout loud enough after all…

But then, a set of footfalls drew near, metal scraping against metal at a steady pace until a heavy boot struck Kara firmly in the chest, flipping her onto her back where she settled with a grunt.

“So glad I got to you first,” came a self-assured drawl, and Kara promptly found herself face to face with a handheld cannon of sorts. “Would be a pity to come all this way and not get to kill you myself.”

And… Kara’s jaw just dropped.

Not because of the words, nor the intentions behind them—though perhaps they both merited some attention as well—but that voice.

Kara gaped up at her supposed knight in shining, lead-lined armor because her voice—that low, husky tone paired with that very specific lilting cadence—was making her reconsider some very fundamental things about how the world might work.

Namely, that people wouldn’t come back from the dead just to save her life.

Mind still reeling away, Kara tried to sit up, only to be slammed back into the ground, hard.

“Down, girl,” Lena said, grinding her boot into Kara’s chest, the weight of her entire body behind the gesture. But that was fine.

It was fine because Kara could still draw some breath into her lungs, could still use some of that breath to talk, and she could certainly still say some things that she hadn’t uttered aloud in many a year. Like her late wife’s name, for instance.

The cannon in Kara’s face wavered, but didn’t lower. “Shut up,” Lena hissed down at her. “Don’t talk. Don’t even think.”

“So… it is you…” Kara said, and she gently wrapped her fingers around Lena’s ankle—the only part of her that she could still reach from her position—and just cried.

With a startled gasp, Lena stumbled away, wrenching herself out of Kara’s grip. “What the fuck…? What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Kara sobbed out, trying not to choke on her own tears and snot and the slight taste of blood still lingering on her tongue. She suddenly, irrationally, wished that she could just take off her clunky suit. Just to eliminate some of that distance between her and Lena. Just so she could touch the chain hanging around her neck without any hindrance. “Just… just wanted to say, hi.”

Lena kept her distance, studying Kara in a stony silence, and Kara started to see things that she should probably would have noticed sooner if her body weren’t actively shutting down on her. Like the green glow of Lena’s weapon and the kryptonite cartridges strapped to her belt. Or that she was clearly wearing a lexo-suit. Or how the swirly edges of her own vision were starting to darken, and how the chill of kryptonite was currently all she could feel.

“Hey,” Kara called out, sniffling only slightly now. “Am I dreaming?”

“… No.”

Kara nodded thoughtfully to herself. “Okay, cool, cool… So, I think I might be dying then.”

“Yeah,” Lena said, after a brief pause. “Probably.”

“Cool.” Kara tried to flash a thumbs up, but no part of her body wanted to cooperate anymore. Her exhaustion had eaten up all her drive. “Hey, can you tell Alex something for me?”

Lena sighed, but she finally stepped closer, practically in reach. “Okay, sure.”

Kara fumbled for some words and the correct order that one might put them in, but then Lena took off her helmet, and nothing else mattered anymore. Because Kara was perfectly content to just watch that ripple of dark hair, streaked with a light gray that was just… nice to look at.

She never got to see her Lena’s hair do that.

Kara’s shoulder was being shaken so violently that she had no choice but to open her eyes and see Alex’s worry-creased face peering down at her.

“Dumbass…” Alex grumbled, releasing Kara’s shoulder with a dirty scowl. “That’s the last time I let you go anywhere without me.”

“Whatever you say, director.” Kara laughed, but it hurt. She then tried to do a salute, but her everything was still too weak to move apparently. But at least she was still alive.

… Wait.

Kara repeatedly tried to sit up on her bed, and Alex repeatedly shoved her right back down until she gave up. But still, she had to check, had to know that it wasn’t all just a dream.

“Where’s Lena?” she demanded, and the look that Alex gave her in response was so deeply pained that Kara almost felt pathetic for asking.

“… Kara.”

“No, I saw her, Alex,” Kara said, shaking her head, then immediately stopping when her entire body somehow got dizzy from it. “Shit. Ow, ow… But wait, no—But seriously, I saw her, okay?”

“I’m not surprised that you did. You almost died, Kara. Actually, I’m pretty sure that you were dead for a few minutes back there. Again, I say, you fucking dumbass.”

“But I didn’t die. Because she saved me,” Kara insisted. “No, seriously! She took out all the drones with some sort of EMP device, and, and… we talked! And she had gray hair, and I think maybe laugh lines? And yeah, I almost died because my helmet got cracked and stuff. But now, I’m here and I’m fine, so… everything’s fine, right?”

Alex frowned, then somehow settled on the least important part of Kara’s briefing, “You cracked your helmet?”

“Ugh, yeah. The glass visor part. When I fell,” Kara said, waving her hand dismissively. “So sorry about that, by the way.”

“Suit looked fine when we got to you,” Alex said with a shrug, before irritably exclaiming, “Jesus christ, Kara, enough! I’ll just have a guy get the helmet for you, okay? So, just stop trying to get up already.”

Huffing, Kara fell back onto her bed with her arms folded and waited. But when someone eventually showed up with her helmet in tow, she was surprised to see that it was somewhat worse for the wear but perfectly intact. Even up close, with the helmet out the tech’s hands and in her own, Kara couldn’t detect even the slightest blemish in the glass.

Pouting ever so slightly, Kara shoved the helmet back into the tech’s arms.

“… Satisfied?” Alex asked, rolling her eyes when Kara just shrugged one shoulder. “Great. Listen… You just need to get some rest, okay? Once you’re back to full strength, we can work through your… you know, memories together. And hopefully, it’ll make more sense by then. Sound good?”

Kara just nodded, suddenly all too willing to be left to her own devices in the relative quiet and darkness. She accepted a gentle shoulder squeeze and the promise of another session with the sun lamps within the hour, and just curled up under the sheets.

It’s not like she hadn’t conjured up images of Lena before. Kara had been close to death enough times that it was only inevitable that she’d fall back onto memories of her dead wife at some point or another. But this was different. Whenever her brain was just playing tricks on her, Lena appeared to her the way Kara remembered her: warm and loving, bright green eyes, long dark hair smelling of lavender, and alive and young.

Never before had Kara encountered an appropriately aged version of Lena, with creases gathered around her eyes and forehead, hair gloriously faded into the most lovely blend of light grays and white amongst all that black… The Lena that could have been if only she had lived out all these past years alongside Kara.

And she was never in a lexo-suit, of all things. Lena was always wearing one of her classic pencil skirts or Kara’s NCU sweatshirt, or something. Oh, and of course, her wedding band.

Instinctively, the same way she always did when it occurred to her, Kara reached for the chain around her neck, seeking out the familiar weight of the rings that hung from there… only to jolt upright with a gasp that dried up her entire throat.

She ripped the necklace off her head, almost snapping the chain, which in and of itself was telling. Because her chain had been forged out of an extraterrestrial metal amalgamation that not even the Girl of Steel would have been able to break. The one now clutched in her hand, however, was just plain white gold.

Heart pounding in her ears, Kara stared down at an engagement ring fitted with a modest cut of diamond, somehow occupying the very spot where two simple wedding bands—hers and her Lena’s—should have been. Then something drove her to check for an inscription, and sure enough, engraved on the inside of the ring was a series of kryptonian characters, denoting a term of endearment that Kara had never used, but apparently could have in another world altogether: my dearest heart.

#2222 words because that's how i get my kicks n' giggles hue hue hue hue #will there be a part three? who knows #better question is Should there be a part three amirite?#my words.

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Nine (Mycroft Holmes x Reader) SMUT

I am SO sorry for such a big delay between chapters! I’ve just had terrible writer’s block and my mental health has been.. challenging, to say the least! But here’s chapter nine! Sorry if Myc is a little out of character, I didn’t really know how else to write it! This is a shorter chapter but the next few should be longer! And expect some more emotional chapters coming up for when Mycroft finally talks to his parents about Eurus!

Word Count- 3766

Mycroft wasn't entirely sure how long after you had fallen asleep that he had followed suit. He hadn't been planning on falling asleep at all, really; he was rather content simply laying there and thinking over in his mind how he had ended up in this position at all. It was a strange feeling still, feeling the weight of you in his arms, the feeling of your hands bunching in his jumper as though he were your lifeline, the light feeling of your breath skimming the skin of his neck. Strange, and yet welcoming. He was beginning to question why he had never tried harder in seeking this kind of thing out before, but he knew the thought was futile. He wasn't entirely sure he'd have ever wanted to be in this position with anybody else, as cheesy and cliché as he had sounded. He had a reputation to upkeep, an entire persona behind his Iceman nickname, and yet he felt entirely at ease, thawed, if you will, with you.

He had opened his eyes to find his head resting slightly atop yours, facing towards the television that had long since surpassed standby mode and instead remained a dark black. Mycroft couldn't help but focus on the reflection that he could see in its screen, the image of the pair of you laying embraced on the sofa, his hand resting so casually at your back that it could be mistaken for a position that had been practiced for years rather than only a few days. It was nice, he had decided. Nice that things had ended up this way, even if it had taken so many years to get this far. In both his mind and your own, it had honestly felt as though you had been together for far longer; as though it was some unspoken decision between the pair of you that neither of you would take the step to start the relationship, and yet made yourself unavailable for anybody else, cancelled plans to be with the other, enjoyed more meals together than apart. Though of course this was far easier on Mycroft's end, not exactly having many other social dependencies, and a lack of opportunities for such things with other people. Still, he had remained inwardly thankful that you had adhered to the same ideas.

In his own way, he was glad that it had taken as long as it did. It allowed for him to truly know you, far more than any information on a file could give. It let him introduce himself to you properly, allowed for you to truly get to know him, for him to feel comfortable enough around you to lower his walls and drop his public, heartless politician façade. Not that he had much choice in the latter part. You knew from day dot that it was, as you delightfully put, "a load of old bollocks." Though you never once taunted him for it, not really, at least not in a bad way. You just enjoyed teasing from time to time. Mycroft Holmes had always been the kind of man to laugh at the idea of things as trivial as fate, the whole 'being at the right place at the right time', or even luck, always claiming that every event was purely cause and effect. And yet, he found his ever so brilliant mind allowing himself to, for once, divulge into the prospects of it, liking the idea that perhaps the Universe wasn't always so cruel. And with this rarely optimistic thought in mind, Mycroft once again found his arm tightening slightly around you and allowed his eyes to close- not to sleep, but to take up the rare opportunity in his usually hectic life to just relax.

---

Only 15 or so minutes had passed since Mycroft had woken up before you began to stir slightly, the hand that was fisted into his jumper moved and instead wound beneath his arm, holding at his shoulder blade and pulling yourself impossibly closer to him, your leg twisting slightly and angling your hip to brush against Mycroft's crotch with just enough pressure to make him gasp. Mycroft had blinked slowly, trying to register the sensation while simultaneously trying to ignore it. He had felt his body stiffen, which had clearly been unwelcome to your sleeping form. You had turned once again, other hand circling his neck and tugging closer, pressing against him once more and humming at the warmth. Mycroft coughed rather loudly, face burning, eyes wide, utterly mortified and, quite frankly, half hard.

He was truly embarrassed, his body reacting in such a juvenile way from the slightest of touch. He cursed himself for his lack of control and placed his atheism aside to pray to God that it would just go away. It's not that Mycroft had never paid that part of his body any attention- he was human after all- but with his usually busy work schedule, and then the Eurus mishap, and of course having you in his home, he hadn't allowed himself to.. indulge.. so to speak. So clearly the smallest hint of friction was enough to turn him into a teenager again. He had also noticed that in your movements the hem of your shirt had lifted just enough that Mycroft's hand was now resting against bare skin and he swallowed thickly.

Mycroft had, of course, contemplated the idea of sex- in any form- in his past. It was in college that he had noticed his peers coming into school with hickeys on their necks, conversed between each other of their sexual encounters, parading body counts, and in University where he had found himself accidentally walking in on far too many students going at it in various cupboards and empty classrooms. He had taken a brief interest but soon let it die down when he had never found anybody interested in him, nor anybody he was interested in. Of course with his occupation and links there had always been the option to fulfil such desires with the security of utmost privacy, but Mycroft had never been keen on the idea of paying for sex. So that, of course, left him in the position of being completely sexually inexperienced, which had never bothered him or caused him any embarrassment until this very moment.

When allowing himself to enter the relationship with you, Mycroft of course suspected that sex would be on the cards at some point, but he had hoped it wouldn't be the result of basic instinct like this. Previously, the idea of being that intimate with you had been an exciting prospect, but now all that was left was embarrassment of his history, and insecurity of his body.

"God, how long have we been out? I feel incredible." You muttered against his skin, not making any effort to move away from the cocoon of warmth that Mycroft was providing. You hummed appreciatively at the feeling of the elder Holmes' hand on your back and the heartbeat that you felt under the fingers on his chest. Only the heartbeat was significantly increased since before you had fallen asleep. "Myc? You okay?" Now you did move, angling your neck to look at the flushed features of the man you were lying next to. Mycroft coughed and nodded weakly, making any slight attempt to angle his pelvis away from you. "If you're sure..? Was I being too clingy? Honestly, you can tell me and I'll stop hanging on you like a baby monkey." You heard a quiet 'no' and smiled. "Okay good, because I REALLY like the cuddling." You shuffled in a little closer and continued. "And, please don't shove me off, I think you like it too because you didn't let me fall and yo- Oh!" Your fidgeting had allowed your thigh to once again rub against Mycroft's erection and he hissed slightly.

"Y/N I can only offer my utmost apologies for reacting in such a callow manner." He stuttered out, making every attempt to wriggle his way from your grip with the idea of making a beeline for the door.

"You don't need to apologise, Mycroft. If anything, I should apologise for uh.. friction? Or perhaps Da Vinci should apologise for discovering friction in the first place?" You breathed a small laugh but Mycroft only remained stiff and uncomfortable. You manoeuvred yourself until you'd both sat up, you sideways slightly with your legs resting across Mycroft's lap and covering him. "Sorry, I tried to make a sciency joke to make you laugh. It was just my way of saying that you're okay and that you shouldn't be embarrassed. If anything, I'm flattered." You laughed slightly again and Mycroft's shoulders slightly relaxed. "Christ, I could, that's if you want to and please do not feel pressured, I could.. help. If you wanted to?" His eyes widened dramatically, brows raising to his hairline while his jaw comically opened slightly in shock.

"I don't.. that is.. you don't have..I-" In a rare moment of time, Mycroft found himself lost for words and an appropriate reaction.

"Don't worry, just forget about it. We don't have to do anything like that until you're ready.. If you're ever ready, that is.. If you don't.. do that.. kinda stuff, that's fine too." And now you were propositioning that you were willing to forego any kind of sexual activity should Mycroft never want it? Why? You answered his unspoken question with a chuckle. "I mean, I've gone 5 years without it, what's the rest of our lives?" Mycroft closed his eyes and took a breath.

"No. It's not that I don't.. want to.. I just.. I, well.. I'm a very busy man and I always have been so.."

"Mycroft, quite frankly I couldn't care less whether you've done anything with a hundred women or none at all. If anything, I find it kinda hot that you haven't. And even more hot if I were the one to change that." He nodded slowly and you smiled back at him. "Is that a yes? Because it doesn't have to be if you don't want it to be. We have all the time in the world."

"Yes."

"Okay. Just promise me you'll tell me if you want to stop." He nodded again. "Promise me, Myc."

"I.. I promise."

--------- sexy times warning ---------

You raised your hand slowly to brush against his face before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. Mycroft sighed in content as you let your thumb graze his cheekbone. Shifting position, you moved your knees to either side of his thighs, straddling him slightly but with your weight resting above his knees, your other hand circling to hold the back of his neck.

"This okay?"

"Mmm." You let your lips travel along his jawbone, nipping slightly at skin and smirking in triumph at the tiny gasps leaving the politician's mouth. Running your hands from his neck down his chest, tugging slightly at the thick jumper in silent plea. Mycroft raised his arms slightly, giving you the access to lift it and chuck it at the side. Wincing, you watched as it knocked the half cup of cold coffee you left on the side, the brown liquid splashing from its porcelain confinements onto the burgundy cotton.

"Please don't tell me that jumper's some four-figured item hand crafted by only the finest of maids in a remote Peruvian town.." Mycroft took his focus back and grimaced.

"Five, and Venezuelan." You stiffened and gulped slightly. "I'm kidding, it's only from M&S." A dazed grin on his face, hands squeezing ever so slightly at your hips. The back of your hand slapped his chest as you relaxed again, breathing out a laugh.

"You are a very cruel man, Mr Holmes." Head lowering to kiss at his neck once more. "You're bloody lucky that you're pretty." His low chuckle was cut off with a deep hum as you bit softly at his collarbone. You dragged your hands down again, fingering at the top buttons on Mycroft's shirt, and not missing how his body became tight. "We don't have to take it off if you don't want to." Relaxed once more. "Can I just undo a few? You'll be more comfortable I reckon without being strangled by a shirt collar." He nodded once. And then again when you double checked. And once more with a small 'yes' when you really wanted to make sure. Taking it slowly, you opened the top three buttons; two to give Mycroft's neck more breathing space, and the other to give your hand enough space to explore the new area of skin- fingers brushing over the top of his chest, auburn chest hair tickling between your digits. You kissed him again, tongue running ever so slightly across his bottom lip; relishing at the small whimper as you pulled away. Myc let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding when your palm dragged down from his chest and to the front of his trousers, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you rubbed slowly. You looked up once more to make sure you weren't taking things too quickly, E/C meeting the tiniest speck of blue that hadn't been hidden from his blown pupils.

"Please?" His voice was barely a whisper, and you were sure you wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't been as close to him as you are now. You tugged at his belt and threw it with the caffeine infused sweatshirt, popping the button of his trousers open and lowering the zip. Mycroft threw his head back against the sofa cushions as you reached in and began to stroke him slowly, your lips latching onto the much better exposed neck. You experimentally gave a twist of your hand each time you reached the head, thumb brushing over the pre-cum that had formed at the tip and using it to slick up your hand- the elder Holmes let out a low moan from his throat, fingers digging into your hips so tightly that you wouldn't be surprised if they left small bruises. Not that you minded, anyway. Hearing Mycroft make those noises under your touch was exhilarating, and knowing you were the first to do such a thing only spurred the excitement on more. You could feel his thighs tighten beneath you, his breathing become slightly more ragged. You hadn't expected him to have lasted long, and you began to recognise the warning signs. Removing your hand completely, you couldn't help but send Mycroft an apologetic smile at the look of disappointment in his face.

"Look, I've already ruined a jumper and I'll be damned if I'm the cause of ruining your trousers too- which are certainly not from Marks and Sparks." You shimmied yourself back until you could feel the plush rug beneath your feet, dropping yourself until you were on your knees between his open legs. You could see in his eyes how he wanted to protest, or make some explanation on how it's unsanitary, but Mycroft's sheer need fed by his curiosity won over and he closed his eyes in waiting, regaining slight control over his breath before choking on it as you slowly ran your tongue from the base of his shaft to the head. "Unless you want me to stop?"

"Good God, no." His voice raised, making you grin as you took him into your mouth completely, head bobbing in a steady rhythm with your hand that pumped what you couldn't reach. Mycroft was certainly larger than any man you had been with before; his long slender cock suiting his form perfectly. You hummed as you imagined later sexual encounters with him- him filling you completely at last- and he writhed as the vibrations ran straight through him. Without a warning, you removed your hand and took him into your mouth completely, sucking and licking against the long vein that ran on the underside of his erection. Myc's hands instinctively shot to your hair as he felt the warmth build in his stomach, quickly cumming with a shout as you hummed around him once more. You pulled off him slowly with an audible 'pop', trying not to overstimulate while he was still sensitive, and tucked him back into his trousers. He tried to balance his breathing, removing his hands from your hair and running them through his own. Standing back up, you glanced over his form- his hair absolutely wild, shirt unbuttoned sligthly, red hairs poking between the fabric from a heaving chest, mouth still slightly open as he breathed, cheeks flushed immensely. God he looked gorgeous.

"Was that.. uh. Good?" You inwardly cringed at your words. Christ woman, you just blew him, not given him a cake. Uncharacteristically for Mycroft, his pale hand reached over to cup your cheek, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss; his tongue experimentally running across your bottom lip before pulling away. "Right, okay. That answered my question on where you stand on kissing after. With you sat there looking all messed up and sexy I was about ready to run and brush my teeth to kiss you again."

"Apologies.. I found myself.. curious."

"You bloody pervert." You winked, leaning to kiss him again. "So you'll kiss me after.. after.." You tried to think of a word that wouldn't sound overly vulgar to the man who had swallowed several dictionaries in several different languages.

"Fellatio?"

"Christ on a bike, Mycroft if you call it that I'll never do it again." The pair of you laughed like a pair of idiots for a moment before you continued on. "Anyway.. You'll kiss me after I do that and deem it 'curiosity', but I dip my chip in a milkshake and that's considered 'improper'? I'm starting to think you make up these rules to best suit you."

"Well, one should indulge in the odd act of impropriety sometimes, else I fear we'd go insane."

"So you WILL dip a chip in the milkshake next time?"

"Oh God, no. I'd rather snack on one of Sherlock's experiments." You both laughed again before silence took over, Mycroft's brain whirring as he tried to both comprehend what had happened, and work out the appropriate way to go on.

"You know, there isn't any written etiquette on how to behave after your partner blows you on the sofa." A raised eyebrow in response. "I am not calling it fellatio.." You reached over and grabbed the tv remote, flicking it back on.

"And you said you couldn't read minds.." As the screen began to power on, you heard a small chuckle from beside you.

"What?"

"No it's nothing. Just ignore me." He bit down onto two fingers slightly to compose himself; the composure being short-lived as he started off again. You tilted your head at him, urging him to speak about what had suddenly crossed his mind.

"Sorry I was just thinking about this morning."

"Bernice? Bit of a weird thing for your mind to flitter to right now, isn't it? Maybe I should be concerned you'll sack me off for her; one bit of action and you're planning to wed the nympho." You teased, loading britbox back up with the intention of continuing your filmathon- a word you used and Myc hated.. so you used it more.

"Before that. What you said this morning, after I heard you wince and ask-"

"Head.. And I said 'who knows what the day will bring'." You snickered into your hand and slouched back, resting slightly aside Mycroft's shoulder. "Speaking of that.. I do hope you're aware that I don't typically do that after only dating somebody for little less than a week."

"Usually wait two, do you?" You slapped his arm.

"Cheeky prick, I'm being serious! I don't want to make it all mushy and awkward so I'll say it, you don't respond and then we'll start up Carry On Camping. Deal?" He nodded his head slightly, bowing it towards you in gesture to continue. "Doing.. that.. and you letting me, it meant a lot. Which probably sounds weird for what it was but, and don't let this over stroke your ego, I don't feel like we've only been together a week. It just feels like we've been together for years with a random rule of celibacy that an innocent nap on the sofa broke. So.. there. I dunno.. I'm just.. proud of you? For taking that step with me.. and I'm massively looking forward to a few steps time when I can get your kit off." You coughed the last sentence with a laugh. True to his agreement, Mycroft didn't say a word. You played the next film and grinned when you felt a long arm wrap behind your back, tugging you to his form gently before warm lips pressed against your temple.

From an outside perspective, your little speech would likely seem a tad bizarre but you knew it probably meant a lot to Mycroft- the kiss on your head solidifying that fact. So you were more than willing to spurt a few awkward sentences for the sake of his reassurance; pleased that it was received well and not like some 'well done for trying' certificate you'd get in primary school for coming 6th in the sack race.

"Ooh this one has Babs in it, doesn't it? God I loved Barbara Windsor."

"Mmm. I met Dame Barbara once, a fair few years ago now. She truly was wonderful." Mycroft praised.

"Of course you met her, her last name's Windsor. You'd do anything to get to anything related to The Queen."

"Dame Barbara's surname was actually Deeks. She changed it to Windsor, inspired by Her Majesty, in 1954 following her role in 'The Belles of St Trinian's."

"Mycroft, sweetheart, I was joking. You told me you'd met her when she was given her title. I was a Barbara fangirl, I know." You twisted and pecked him on the cheek, not even noticing the petname that certainly didn't fall on deaf ears from Myc. The side of his mouth flicked up in a small smile; his hand squeezing slightly on your hip before he leaned over and spoke quietly.

"Thank you."

"What fo-"

"Shhh, film's starting." And with that, the pair of you settled into a comfortable silence, being broken only every now and then with your laughter as you watched the telly. Mycroft's smiles and light hearted reactions came from watching you much more than the film, but he didn't think you noticed. Or if you did, you didn't say a word.

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