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#I wish my own mother understood this
my-autism-adhd-blog · 3 months
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I wish that it was seen as more socially acceptable to ask for clarification in communication
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Neurodivergent_lou
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jacaerysgf · 2 months
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Plagued by you
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r.q: requesting this please, alicent's daughter x jacaerys… and an angry confession.. "I burn for you." type ❤️😭 like he wants to her to come with him and be team black.
c.w: Otto doesn't go to Dragonstone you do; alicents daughter!reader, minor angst, dialogue heavy, reader “hates” jacaerys, hints of rhaelicent, not proofread
w.c: 1.6k (finally a shorter jace fic…)
a.n: anthony bridgerton ass confession lmaoo, hope you all enjoy :3
part two part three coming soon
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You were currently pacing back and forth in the room rhaenyra allowed you to stay in on Dragonstone. You had come to see her, to ask her to declare for Aegon. She had obviously argued back and forth with you, up until nightfall where she said she would retreat for the night and the two of you could finish this tomorrow in the morning before you flew back in the morning. You argued that you would leave right then but only to find out that it had begun to storm so heavily. Realizing you would not be able to travel anywhere in this weather you reluctantly agreed and here you were.
In truth you did not want to come here. You had begged your mother to send someone else to anyone else but she was instant it be you. 
“Mother, why not send grandsire? He will be a much better negotiator than me.” she fiddles with your cloak, a far away look on her face before she moves to cup your face.
“Rhaenyra certainly likes you more than she likes him. She will treat you kindly.”
“She will say no mother you know this.” 
She lets out a trembled sigh and grips your face tightly in her hands and presses her forehead against yours “If not for his sake you must try, for me. For my sake I do not wish for this to go to. To see her harmed.” 
You've always known your mother has a very complicated relationship with rhaenyra if you can even call it that. She hated her, or at least that's what it seemed to be. 
She turns and grabs your bag before giving you a knowing look. 
“And I know you also have some unresolved things, do not deny it. I can recognize that look on your face. You must let these things go. Lest you end up like me.” 
You feel sick at the idea of Him. You hate jacaerys velaryon. Him and his stupid pride, his stupid face. His stupid everything. You have never hated anyone the way you hate him. You never understood how much a person could hate someone seemingly as much as your mother seemed to hate rhaenyra. The way she seemed to be all she could talk and even think about, going on endless rants to the point you felt you knew more about rhaenyra than your own mother. Until you met him. Now though you understood her completely, when you were no more than six jacaerys became the target of your anger.
Due to his torment of your twin brother aemond you quickly began to hate him. You would spend all your free time thinking of him and how to get back at him. The two of you always bickered and argued, when you would look over at him he was always already glaring at you. 
You were more than relieved he and his family were leaving after the incident at driftmark, but there was a part of you that when your days dragged on you began to miss him. Tormenting him of course there was no way you actually wished to spend time with him, there was no way…. Definitely not.
You haven't seen him during your time here. You would think he would be in the room where you were negotiating but he was nowhere to be seen. You did not want to ask about him, though the question has been on the tip of your tongue.
Suddenly there was some aggressive knocking on your door and you froze, turning towards it holding your breath. “Who is it?” there's no answer but you know exactly who it is and hesitant for a moment contemplating if you should even let him in. You end up swiftly making your way towards the door and opening it just a bit, planning on telling him to just go away but before you can say anything he's pushing his way into the room storming past you with an angry look on his way. You lean against the door to support yourself as you feel lightheaded just looking at him. 
“You are an absolutely ridiculous woman.” you do not speak, unable to, only able to watch as he runs his hand through his curls and paces in the room just as you had been. “Do you only wish to torment me?”
“I am here for my brother-” “You should not have come.” there's a venom in his voice and he does not even look at you. You find yourself growing more annoyed at him. “I do not care what you think. I would be gone by now if your mother had not been so stubborn-” he turns to look at you and makes his way to stand right in front of you, barely any space between the two of you. “Jacaerys…” “you do not want your brother to sit the throne.” it was true, as much as you tolerated your brother, the thought of him sitting on the throne disgusted you. He would not be a good king, “you know not of what i believe.” “I know this is true, you shouldn't lie to me.” 
“You act as if you know me.”
He scoffs, turning his head away from you for a moment before looking you dead in the eyes, so close you can feel his breath on your face. “I don't know you? I know that you hate the summer because you get too hot in your long dresses, i know you love whenever the chefs make cake and you would sneak into the kitchen to grab a slice, i know you despise your mothers perfume because it hurts your nose but you could never tell her such a thing because it brings her comfort,” he pauses for a moment moving somehow even closer to you, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, “i know when you are lying you scrunch up your nose,” he moves his head to your neck and takes a deep breath of your scent before lifting his head back up and his forehead is against yours once more. “And worst of all I know you desire me as I do you.” 
You shake your head as you suppress a whimper from your neck, “no,,,” “you will not deny it. You will not deny something I know to be true with every bone in my body with every drop of blood in my body.”  
With a long silence between you, neither of you saying a word he pushes away from you and goes back to standing where he was, that angry look back on his face. “You must go.” you look outside and notice that the storm has since stopped, your brain is currently running a mile a minute barely able to think. “I shall head back to the keep-” “that is not far enough!” 
He grips his head in frustration as he begins to pace once more, “you could travel to dorne, to essos to bravos and it would not be far enough to free me from this torment you have put me through, For the thoughts of you that plague my mind to cease to exist. Even after I pass I am sure when I am faded to nothing but bones and ashes the picture of you will be laced where my heart should be.” 
He quickly moves back over to you and cups your face once more bringing himself so explicitly close to you he should be kissing you. The way you two are pressed against each other is more intimate than a kiss, more romantic than any confession. You lose yourself in the heat of the moment, unable to control yourself for a while. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you. Before you regain the small sense of control you have to push him away from you shaking your head. “I must go home, my mother-” “Stay here. Stay with me.” He stares into you a way nobody else ever has, like he's truly trying to see you and not the facade you put on for everyone else. “My mind, body and soul yearns and burns for you uncontrollably and now that you stand in front of me I cannot take it.” He takes your hand and presses it against his heart where you can feel it being erratically as yours was as well. “Tell me you do not want me and I shall turn my back and allow you to leave. But do not beg me to watch you as I fear my heart cannot take it.” 
He takes another step closer to you and does not break eye contact with you. “Tell me you do not desire me and tell me at once my love, my heart please you must.” 
You shake your head as tears begin to form in your eyes, “I cannot.” “then stay.” you angle your head and kiss him, praying that through your actions he can too understand that you indeed burn for him the way he burns for you. You decide in the moment to say fuck it. Fuck your mother, fuck your brother, fuck the crown and screw everyone and everything else that is not him because you hate him so much that he has fully consumed every part of you like a parasite. Yet you have done the same to him. 
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shadesoflsk · 3 months
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YOUR? OUR MARGARET
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PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader
SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!
MY MASTERLIST
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Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.
He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.
Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has. 
He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is. 
A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.
Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon. 
However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:
Dada.
Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.
It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man. 
Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better. 
So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature. 
Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.
Peaceful, he liked it. 
But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon. 
After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging. 
The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.
At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.
His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.
“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him. 
“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.
A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.
And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience. 
Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air. 
You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.
“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”
“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.” 
“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.
She started crying.
You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew. 
“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having. 
You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.
“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”
“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.
“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”
“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”
“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.
“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”
It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.
Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.
Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence. 
However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.
“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy. 
“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye. 
Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings. 
And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret. 
Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.
He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk. 
However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you. 
Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up. 
He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.
It was as if the universe was against him.
Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.
On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.
“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”
In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.
“I wouldn't like to intrude.”
“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”
Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”
“Are you free this 14th?” 
He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time. 
Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?
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He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.
The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish. 
But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date. 
Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror. 
Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.
The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.
He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.
The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations. 
He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.
But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.
He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do. 
But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.
He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario. 
Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope. 
So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.
Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret. 
He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.
When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.
A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.
“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”
Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret. 
“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.
“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself. 
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”
Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.
You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.
“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.
He wants to.
“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry. 
And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.
“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.
Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle. 
“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you. 
“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.
As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep. 
“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose. 
You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.
You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter. 
“Would you like to help me?” You murmur. 
Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.
“If you let me.”
Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you. 
You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.
As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior. 
Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.
“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this. 
“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.
If that was even possible.
As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.
You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it. 
He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.
If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world. 
Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.
Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.
He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.
Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess. 
As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.
What's next?
What is he supposed to do now? 
As if on cue, your words break the silence.
“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.
“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”
“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.
“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”
He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.
For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.
Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.
“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you. 
You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.
As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.
Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.
Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.
The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.
After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.
“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”
He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have. 
“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted. 
“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”
“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”
Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.
He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.
And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession. 
A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—
Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.
He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.
As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.
And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.
The one is indeed not a myth.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)
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💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
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vesppperoro · 1 month
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hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️
a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars
do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️
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Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader
Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.
A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭
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Charlie Morningstar
She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.
You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.
When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.
She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.
You were like a child! Why were you even here?
She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.
She became a mother figure to you.
You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.
She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.
A silent moment of understanding.
She loves picking you up and holding you!
She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.
She’s the one you go to for emotional things.
She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.
Vaggie
She became a secondary mother figure to you.
She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.
She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.
She’s the more levelheaded one.
She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.
She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.
When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.
A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.
Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.
You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.
She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!
She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.
Angel Dust
Honestly, he saw himself in you.
A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.
He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.
He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.
He would go to the ends of hell for you.
He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.
You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.
He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.
He embraces you any time he can.
He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.
Husk
He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.
A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.
He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.
He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.
But when you told him your story, he almost broke.
You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.
He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.
If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.
Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.
He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.
He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!
Either way, he adores you.
He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.
Might even boop your nose once or twice.
Late night talks.
He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.
Niffty
Another tiny person! Yay!
You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.
Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.
She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!
She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.
Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.
She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.
Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.
You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!
She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.
She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.
Sir. Pentious
He’s a dad. Or, he was.
He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.
He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.
He also protects you.
Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.
He literally cried when you told him your story.
He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.
Best girl dad ever.
Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)
He teaches you some things about inventing!
You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.
He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.
Cherri Bomb
Chaotic auntie energy.
She would do ANYTHING for you.
She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.
She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.
She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.
Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.
Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.
They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.
She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.
She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.
She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.
Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.
Alastor
He’s not one to like kids, really.
He was, however, kinder to you.
He did anything to protect you.
He was like your insane uncle.
He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.
He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!
He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.
He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.
He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.
He pats your head like a dog lol.
Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.
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jgracie · 2 months
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LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF APHRODITE
masterlist | rules
❝ Can I request percy x daughter of Aphrodite? ❞ — 🧸
in which percy dates a daughter of aphrodite
pairing percy jackson x aphrodite!reader
warnings i had to break up percabeth for the plot im sorry 😞, one swear word
on the radio . . . love me like you do (ellie goulding)
When Percy and Annabeth broke up, all of Camp Half-Blood was in shock
In their minds, they were the couple. The one little kids would look up to and teens would pray to emulate. How could they possibly break up?
Percy wished he knew. I mean, he kind of understood why, but part of him was still confused
You see, it was Annabeth who’d ended things. Annabeth, who had been head-over-heels in love with Percy ever since they were 12. She was nice about it, luckily, but Percy was still hurt
The reason why she ended their relationship was because she wanted to discover herself, and she couldn’t do that with Percy by her side. She’d been stuck in camp nearly her whole life until Percy came along, and when he did, she spent years doing quests and fighting by his side
She felt like she knew who Percy’s girlfriend was, and who Athena’s daughter is, but not Annabeth. That’s why she ended things
Every day, Percy would mope around his cabin, his heart shattered. Annabeth was his first love. He was happy for her, of course, but a larger part of him was sad for himself
To make matters worse, the Fates seemed to be working against him, since he got broken up with just a week before his mother and Paul’s wedding. How was he supposed to attend an event celebrating love when he lost his?
Besides, now he doesn't have a date. Annabeth was still going to go, of course, but with her own ticket, not his +1. The seats were already booked and paid for though, so he couldn’t tell his parents to remove one
Which is why he was in his current situation. Standing outside of the Aphrodite cabin, debating whether or not he should walk away
Percy hated to beg, but he didn’t have much choice. The Aphrodite kids were most likely to agree to go with him, since they love everything to do with love, especially weddings
Recollecting himself, Percy knocked on the front door
“Oh, hi Percy!” Piper said, inviting him in. As soon as he walked in, the whole cabin went silent, all eyes on him. Out of all the people in camp, Aphrodite’s kids were the most interested in his breakup with Annabeth. Percy knew they didn’t mean any harm, as matters of love just genuinely piqued their interest, but he hated the way their eyes were always watching their every move
Quietly, he told Piper, “I want to ask your siblings something, if that's okay,” then, when Piper nodded, he addressed the rest of the cabin, “so… My mom and step-dad are getting married next week and I was supposed to go with Annabeth but she’s not my date anymore and I still have an extra invite so I was wondering if maybe one of you guys wanna come?”
The room, which was once so silent you could hear a pin drop, suddenly became awfully loud as they all argued about who should go with Percy. This didn’t last very long though, thanks to Piper
Eyebrows furrowed, Piper clapped her hands, immediately silencing her siblings, “before you all start drawing lots to see who goes, I’m going to check and see if Y/N wants to go. I think we can all agree she needs this more than anyone, right?”
To Percy’s surprise, there was no arguing regarding this. He’d heard about you in passing before - Aphrodite’s most beautiful daughter, favoured by the Goddess herself not just for your extreme good looks but for your warm heart, dating Annabeth’s half-sibling Ali - but nothing about you needing to attend weddings
Piper went over to a bunk in the corner of the room, one Percy hadn’t noticed was occupied until now, and spoke to you in a hushed tone. When she pointed at Percy, you turned to look at him, and he could see that your eyes were bloodshot
With your arm wrapped around Piper’s, you made your way over to Percy, unfazed by the eyes that were locked on you, “I’ll go with you.”
You spent the days leading up to the wedding getting to know each other, since neither of you wanted to attend a wedding with a stranger, and discovered you actually had a lot in common
Namely, both of you were broken up with by children of Athena. Turns out, you were no longer Ali’s girlfriend - he’d broken up with you a couple days after Annabeth broke up with Percy. Not a lot of people knew, since the news of your own breakup was overshadowed by Percy’s
When he heard that, he apologised, but you’d smiled at him and told him it was fine, since you didn’t want much attention on the breakup anyway. That was Percy’s first time seeing you smile since hanging out with you, and he felt as if Eros himself had shot an arrow right through his heart
He couldn’t fall for you though, not now at least. Both of you were healing from breakups
The longer you met up with Percy, the better you felt. You were absolutely devastated when your now ex had broken up with you, saying something along the lines of, “it’s not you, it’s me,” when you begged for an explanation
You knew the truth, though. People in camp didn’t see you as anything other than Aphrodite’s favourite daughter, a pretty girl who just cared about her makeup and romance novels. While you loved both things, you weren’t anywhere near that level of shallowness
So, they date you just to say that the most gorgeous girl in camp’s dating them, then break up with you the moment you say anything remotely intellectual, challenging their masculinity
Usually, you didn’t care too much, since you know your own self-worth, but for some reason, your breakup with Ali really hurt. Maybe it’s because you thought as a son of Athena, with sisters who were also smart, he’d understand
You spent the first couple days after your breakup doing nothing other than crying in your bunk and reading romance books (which only made you feel worse). Your siblings, bless their hearts, had tried to make you feel better - doing your nails, telling you jokes - but nothing worked
Until Percy. You didn’t know if it was the fact that he was going through a breakup too, or the fact that he was still funny despite having his heart broken too, but he was the only person who knew how to make you smile, pulling you out of the pit you were in and allowing you to bask in the daylight
The week flew by, and eventually, it was time for the wedding. Your siblings fawned all over you as they did your hair and makeup, an Aphrodite cabin tradition. Usually, this tradition was only performed before first dates as a ‘good luck charm’ of sorts, but they decided to do it for you before the wedding
You thought they were just being sweet, forgetting that you shared a mother and therefore they of all people would know when you met the one. Your siblings saw the way Percy brought the glow back to your skin, and were eternally grateful as now they had their precious sister back
They were also grateful to him because you’d be gone for a whole day, meaning there was nothing stopping them from taking revenge on the Athena cabin :) Never underestimate the power of love!
“Hi Percy!” You said, waving, a bright smile plastered on your face. The dress you were wearing was a colour your mother knew suited you perfectly, and it cascaded down your body in waves, the lace detailing doing nothing to calm Percy’s rapidly beating heart.
The poor boy was genuinely afraid he’d pass out as he held an arm out for you, which you gladly took, wanting to be as close to him as possible, “you look gorgeous,” he said, blushing
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you replied, the grin on your face growing. Your cheeks hurt, but something about Percy had you unable to stop smiling
Together, you left camp and headed for the wedding venue - Montauk beach
As a daughter of Aphrodite, you had a lot of experience with weddings. For some reason, wedding invites always seemed to find their way to the children of love, and so you’ve attended lots of them
And you adored every single one, of course, but they all paled in comparison to Sally and Paul’s. It wasn’t the most extravagant you’ve ever attended - just a small wedding with only close friends and family (and you) invited, but you could feel the love radiating off of the newlyweds
That alone made it your favourite, and as a warm, fuzzy feeling coated your body and soul while they were saying their vows, you turned to look at Percy. The corners of his lips were tilted in a smile, knowing how much his mother deserved her happily ever after
Would you ever experience a love like that? And if so, was there a chance it could be with Percy? Sure, you’d only properly known him for a week, but the two of you connected so quickly! Surely, that had to be a sign
You quickly pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Even if it was a sign, you knew neither of you were ready to date yet
So, when the wedding ended, you said your goodbyes and walked side-by-side in silence, unsaid words hanging in the air between you
That was until your heel broke. You knew these weren’t a good pair, having had many close calls before, but you’d hoped they’d last just one more wear since they matched the rest of your outfit so well
“Shit!” You said, stumbling as the heel finally gave in. Subconsciously, Percy grabbed you by the waist, saving you from an awful fall whilst pulling you closer to him. You felt your face heat up at this gesture, which wasn’t doing much to help your confusing feelings
He then let go of you, bending down to untie his shoelaces. Furrowing your brows, you asked, “what’re you doing?” Percy didn’t reply until he’d taken off both shoes, offering them to you
“You can wear these. I have socks,” you couldn’t believe your ears. None of the men you went out with before would even think to do something so selfless. You shook your head, about to tell him you couldn’t do that, when he bent down to put the shoes on you (PERSEUS JACKSON 😭🙏🏼). They weren’t your size, but it wasn’t the end of the world
Shyly, you mumbled, “thank you,” then, looking off to the side, you said, “we can still hang out at camp, right? You’re a really good friend, Percy. I haven’t felt this happy in a while.”
“Of course, Y/N, what kind of question is that? You make me really happy too!”
At that moment, a dove flew over and landed on your shoulder. You smiled, scratching his head. Judging by the fact that it smelt like perfume, it was pretty safe to assume your mother sent it
A good omen
After the wedding, you continued to hang out. In fact, you did everything together - you made sure your cabins were on the same side when playing capture the flag, you joined forces during the chariot races, you even started sleeping at Percy’s cabin every once in a while, on the days when your meetups went past curfew and you couldn’t risk leaving in case the harpies caught you
As the months passed, the gash in your heart healed, and you got to a point where you wouldn’t even think about Ali anymore. How could you, when Percy was right there? He didn’t feel challenged by your brains, he embraced your cleverness and encouraged you to share your thoughts at all times
Percy also started getting over Annabeth. He wasn’t ever upset at her for breaking up with him, but he definitely avoided her. He felt bad about it, but every time he tried to hang out with her again, his heart would ache
Now, their relationship had gone back to what it was before their breakup, and she’d even join the two of you occasionally. On one of her visits, she apologised on her brother’s behalf, to which you were elated to reply with, “Gods, I completely forgot about that!”
Annabeth would simply smile, knowing you had your eyes on someone else now
In fact, everyone seemed to know you and Percy liked each other. Everyone but the two of you
That’s why they’d orchestrated this. The Apollo, Aphrodite and Dionysus cabins, as well as a couple demigods from other cabins, decided to throw a party in celebration of… well, a holiday
The point of this was that there was no special occasion. You and Percy would arrive at this ‘party’ only to realise you’d been tricked, then stay because you just love being around each other, then the fireworks would illuminate the sky and you’d realise how much you love each other and share a romantic kiss under the stars
At least, that’s what your siblings thought would happen
So, news about the celebration passed around camp and eventually made its way to you. You weren’t going to go at first, since you didn’t even know what you were supposed to be celebrating, but then Percy told you he was going. Why would you pass up the opportunity to go to a party with him?
The night arrived, and you left your cabin alone. When you asked your siblings why they weren’t coming, they just started yapping about needing to iron their outfits and wash their makeup brushes, telling you they’d catch up with you later. You left, not questioning much
Hiding behind the bushes was a strange group: Pollux, Kayla Knowles, Piper Mclean and Annabeth Chase. The four had their eyes locked on where you and Percy were supposed to meet up, praying their plan would work
“Ugh, where are they? They’re taking forever!” Kayla exclaimed, quickly earning a chorus of shushes from the other three
“I’m sure they’ll come soon,” Piper told the girl, putting some charmspeak into her words so everyone would calm down
On cue, you and Percy arrived at the venue, your laughter dying down as you realised not a single soul was there. Looking down at his watch, Percy said, “I thought we were late. Doesn’t this thing start at 9PM? It’s 9:30 right now.”
“Yeah,” you replied. You had a feeling there was something bigger at play here. Shrugging your shoulders, you sat on the grass and patted the spot next to you, telling Percy to sit
“This area’s actually really nice, we should come here more often,” you said as you looked around. Percy hummed in agreement
Eventually, the four decided you spent enough time chatting, and Pollux lit the fireworks, which shot up to the sky as bright pink hearts. You checked your surroundings, demigod instincts on alert. Had a monster infiltrated camp? Was this their idea of a sick joke?
Percy placed a calming hand on your shoulder, “hey, I don’t think there’s anyone around. It’s okay.” The tension left your body and you looked up at the sky, your head on Percy’s shoulder as you watched the fireworks
There were too many signs
You turned to the boy, and found he was already looking at you
There were too many signs
You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer to you, feeling his breath on your skin. He let you
There were too many signs
You kissed him then, and he kissed back
Dating hcs now 🥳 I think that’s the longest backstory I’ve ever written
You’re a “if you do it, I’ll do it” kind of couple. Even without your charmspeak, you could convince Percy to rob a building just by saying you wanted him to
Sally and Paul were really happy when they found out you started dating. Even though it’d been almost a year since their wedding, they hadn’t forgotten the loving glances you’d take at each other
You tell them their wedding’s your favourite by far and they have to fight the urge to cry
Percy quite literally worships the ground you walk on. You’re not Percy’s girlfriend, he's Y/N’s boyfriend LOL. As your relationship progresses, you open up about all your other relationships and only your charmspeak could stop him from going and giving all those guys a lecture
He’s always hyping you up and reminding you of how you’re worthy of love!!! Even a daughter of Aphrodite needs to hear it sometimes
One day, the Gods seem to be smiling down at him, since he finally gets an opportunity to speak with Ali. Life went majorly downhill for your ex-boyfriend ever since you broke up, and while you’d never wish horrible things upon anyone, you couldn’t help but feel a little happy to hear it
Anyways. Percy was heading to the climbing wall when Ali bumped into him. The latter grunted an apology and Percy was going to just smile at him and continue his journey when he noticed who it was
Immediate scowl. If you listen closely you can hear the nearest body of water churning, mirroring Percy’s emotions. Ali attempts to continue going where he was going but Percy stops him, refusing to let him go until he gets an earful of how you’re the best girl in the world and how scum like him didn’t deserve to be anywhere near a queen like you <3
He thinks you don’t know he did this but one of your siblings was around and reported to you as soon as they saw you! They also told the rest of your cabin and from then on the Aphrodite cabin = official Percy fanclub
This boy loves listening to you talk. Your voice is so gorgeous, just like the rest of you, he can’t help it!! Your words flowed in a way Percy never thought words could
Gets you to read things aloud whenever he can. It’s really funny but also cute so you do it anyway
“Sweetie can you read this I can’t see it very clearly” “Percy that’s the camp entrance you know what it says” “No I think my eyesight is getting worse!!” “Okay fine, it says ‘Camp Half-Blood’”
Also random but you guys watch Say Yes to the Dress and other wedding related TV shows together. A wedding intertwined your fates so naturally you love watching these kinds of things
Always commenting on the dresses! You have an eye for beauty and at first he agrees with you just because you’re so pretty how could he disagree? But eventually you pass your tastes onto him and it’s like he can read your mind
After many of these episodes Percy’s mind can’t help but gravitate towards the theme of marriage and all of a sudden he’s planning your own wedding (WINK WINK!!!!)
This is especially bad in the middle of the night. Texts you pictures of wedding venues with the caption “do you want me to book this one?” Like okay sure for 5 years from now?!?!
Percy “wear whatever you want babe I can fight” Jackson the man you are <3
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fleursbending · 1 year
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼
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The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.
You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.
The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.
Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.
It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.
At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.
You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.
It was Ao'nung and his crew.
"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.
"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.
You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.
"No one is here to help you, Y/n."
They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.
"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.
"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.
Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.
Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.
The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.
Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.
"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."
Had it really been that long?
"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.
"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.
You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.
"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.
Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.
"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"
"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.
If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.
That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.
Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:
"We shouldn't push it, not now."
"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.
Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.
Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.
Something's wrong with our daughter.
Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.
Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?
Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.
From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.
They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.
So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.
Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.
If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.
"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.
"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.
"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.
They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.
At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.
Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?
But then it came.
It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.
It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.
Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?
"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.
Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."
Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.
Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.
"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.
He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.
"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.
You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.
Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.
"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."
Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.
Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.
Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.
Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.
All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"
And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.
You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.
A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.
All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?
Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.
"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.
"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.
"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.
Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."
Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.
"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.
Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.
"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.
Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.
Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.
"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.
"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.
"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.
They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.
It's been a while.
Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.
In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.
She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.
Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.
"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.
Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."
"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.
Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.
Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.
The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.
"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."
Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."
Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"
You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.
"It's us against the world." You mumbled.
Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."
Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.
Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."
Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"
You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"
"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.
Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.
"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.
"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.
Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.
But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.
"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.
She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.
"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.
"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.
You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.
"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.
"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.
Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.
Our daughter is going to be just fine.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚˳೫˚
bonus:
Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.
Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.
He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.
"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.
Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."
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𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡
6K notes · View notes
gureumz · 9 months
Text
stained glass windows
rating: explicit
member: jungwon
notes: fem!reader, stepcest, dubcon, religious corruption, baby trapping (?), unholy use of scripture (sorry god), dom!jungwon, slight angst, mentions of death, step brother!jungwon, breeding, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jay has a cameo appearance lol
a/n: so this is an amalgamation of everything everyone requested for jungwon,,,reciting bible verses during sex? i got you. stepcest? no problem. baby trapping (this is 100% what i want and yes my wish is my command)? you bet. religious corruption? hell yeah. something super filthy and kinky? say no more. enjoy, hoes! love ya mwa (the bible verse here is 1 Corinthians 10:13 if you were curious)
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sundays are your happy days.
a pretty dress, the stained glass windows, hushed chatter among the churchgoers—these were all the things you waited for at the end of the week.
your mother had always been proud of how involved you are in your faith, showering you with loving words before going to bed when you were little, calling you 'hers and God's favorite angel'. you'd smile and feel a sense of giddiness. God's favorite angel. can you believe it? you made sure to wear that as a badge of honor.
and then you grew up, went to a bigger school, met people who are different from you. even those who you knew were like you, devoted and obedient to their parents and God, seemed to have strayed down the path of parties, drinks, and the unthinkable. that is to say, premarital sex.
you never understood the appeal of it all. your faith and God were enough. you didn't need to participate in such acts to feel anything. you felt Him in every waking moment.
until there came a time when you were convinced He was gone altogether.
until sundays stopped becoming your happy days. every single day was void of any happiness.
your father passed suddenly, leaving you and your mother to fend for yourselves. you watched your mother grieve, grieved on your own, alone in your room. you went to school and saw the excitement in your peers' eyes, talking about a party here and buying drinks there.
you nearly caved. anything to take your mind off your dad.
but this was when your mother spent nearly every day at the church, despite it being mostly empty every day other than sundays. without anything better to do, you tagged along. and you started to feel Him again.
you knew God returned for real when your mother became friendly with a newcomer at church. a businessman who recently moved to your town, towing his son along.
mr. yang, as you later learned. he had a son.
jungwon.
jungwon wore an easy smile, deep dimples appearing every time he did. he shook your hand with a hesitant grip, palms smooth and soft. he had eyes that seemed to sparkle.
seasons changed, months grew into years, and your mother and mr. yang got married.
you saw the life return to your mother's face, easing her shoulders back, smoothing out the creases in her weathered face.
sundays became your happy days again, now that mr. yang and jungwon were in your lives.
---
jungwon is the poster child for the perfect sibling. or, at least that's what you think.
it's been a couple of years since your parents' wedding, and jungwon was nothing short of accommodating. he was kind, always letting you have first picks at whatever food your parents prepared, and offered to do things for you.
granted, it wasn't always like this. the two of you skirted around each other the first few weeks, both former only children, suddenly dealt with the fact that they had a sibling exactly their age. there was even a period of time when jungwon would bolt at the sight of you. though, you tried to not take this to heart.
but after all has been said and done, the two of you fell into a routine, becoming friends of some sort. eternal housemates.
"hurry up. this will be the second week we're late because you couldn't decide what dress to wear."
you turn, spotting jungwon poking his head through the door.
"sorry," you reply bashfully. "these people don't see me on weekdays anymore since i'm off at campus, so you can't really blame me for wanting to make an entrance on the one day they do see me."
jungwon quirks an eyebrow.
"since when did you care what they think?" jungwon questions, stepping fully into your room. he's wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and crisp black pants.
you note that the watch he has on today makes him look particularly handsome.
you merely shrug. "i don't know. everyone at college dresses so nice and i thought i'd make an effort, too."
jungwon snorts. "everyone at college is a try-hard. it's a small-town liberal arts institution."
"hey, you're a student there, too," you point out, crossing your arms at jungwon.
you watch as he surveys your outfit, eyes slowly making your way down your body. you swallow, suddenly aware of how tight the yellow sundress feels. the fabric seems to dig at your armpits uncomfortably, and the hem is too short and—
"you look good," jungwon says, eyes meeting yours.
you breathe a sigh of relief.
"well, if you say so. i trust your word," you say, smoothing down your skirt.
you feel jungwon approach, circling an arm around your waist, ushering you towards the door.
"i am your brother. i think i'd know what would look good on you," jungwon points out with a wink.
---
the service goes by without a hitch. you participated as you always did, offered your prayers as you usually do. you thanked Him for another successful week of classes but also asking for you to ace your upcoming exams. it was all routine.
until your mother pulled you along, chirping excitedly about a new family that had moved to town and joined the church.
the parks.
a father, a mother, and their son who's a business major at some big-shot university a few towns over.
"i'm jay," the son said to you, reaching his hand towards you as his family introduced themselves to yours. you shook hands and you couldn't help the sudden heat that flooded your face and chest.
your hand still tingles with where he held on, even now on the car ride home
"that jay boy sure is cute," your mother says from the passenger seat. you turn to her, eyebrows raised.
"seems like he has a good head on his shoulders," your stepfather agrees. he looks at you through the rearview mirror.
"the kind of guy girls wanna marry."
you see your mother twist in her seat to give you a knowing look. you roll your eyes but the familiar warmth takes over your entire body again.
"i mean, i don't know. we just met him and his family," you point out, trying not to stutter. you turn to jungwon for backup but your brother has his back turned to you, his face angled toward the window.
"right, jungwon?" you try nonetheless.
"huh?" comes his clueless response. he looks at you and his face is crumpled in a frown. you're taken slightly aback.
before you can say anything, your mother speaks up.
"why don't you try and befriend him, jungwon? they said they only live on the next street over," your mother offers, unaware at how deep jungwon's frown has gotten in the seconds she said that sentence.
"i don't know," jungwon mumbles. "i can try, i guess."
you watch as jungwon turns back to the window, his hand balling into a fist on his lap. you decide not to pry, leaning your own head against the window beside you, watching the little houses in your neighborhood speed by.
---
you urge yourself to stop picking at your fingernails. but you can't help it, either. standing outside your brother's door, you're not sure what awaits you on the other side.
taking a deep breath, you decide to just get it over with. you're certain it's nothing. you're just concerned and you want to see how jungwon's doing.
you knock softly three times, waiting to hear jungwon's voice. after a few seconds, you hear a muffled, 'come in!'.
you push the door open a bit, taking a peek inside jungwon's room. he's sprawled on his bed, his phone in his hands as he scrolls through his screen. his eyes shift to you and he sits up.
"what's up?" jungwon asks as you let yourself in. you don't say anything until you're seated beside him on his bed.
"i didn't want to risk your wrath, so i wasn't sure if i should bring this up with you...," you begin, teeth worrying your lower lip.
jungwon raises a brow. "i don't know what you're talking about. but other than that, you know i can never get upset with you, right?"
you continue to bite down on your lip, unsure of what to say next.
"but you were upset today," you say after a few seconds. "in the car?"
jungwon's face morphs into mild recognition. he nods, finally understanding what you mean.
"oh, that," jungwon deadpans. "it's nothing."
"come on, you can tell me anything, remember?" you urge, pulling your legs up on jungwon's bed before crossing them. jungwon glances down as you do so but quickly averts his eyes back to your face.
"it's nothing, i swear. it's stupid and thinking back on it, it just seems like such a dumb thing to be mad about," jungwon explains, shifting closer to you.
you take his hand and you squeeze as jungwon threads his fingers through the gaps between yours.
your mother often remarked how the two of you seemed more like twins than regular siblings. mirror images of each other. the perfect balance. looking at jungwon now, you see what she meant.
"nothing you say would be stupid to me," you reply, voice soft as your thumb runs over the skin of jungwon's hand.
something flashes across jungwon's face and his eyes seem to trail over every part of you. your skin prickles as he stops right at your chest, pajama top showing the very tops of your breasts.
"i didn't like the way that jay guy was looking at you," jungwon finally admits, gaze returning to your face.
you look at jungwon quizzically. "what? how was he looking at me?"
"like he was undressing you with his eyes," jungwon complains. "he was practically flirting with you."
you laugh incredulously. "no, he wasn't. he said two words to me, wonie."
jungwon shakes his head. "i'm a man, too. i know how our brains and eyes work."
you stop for a second to ponder on jungwon's words. you can't deny the intensity of how jay seemed to be looking at you earlier and the way he held your hand so tight.
"so?" you retaliate. "he's cute. i don't mind."
you see jungwon's jaw clench, the muscles spasming under his skin. his lips press into a thin line and he pulls his hand back from your grasp.
"guys like that will only take advantage of you, _______," jungwon says, voice slow and deliberate.
your forehead creases. "how are you so sure?"
jungwon stares at you for a few moments. he reaches his hand out, cupping one side of your face in his palm. you gulp, your heart jumping at the contact.
"i just know. you trust me, right? i'm your brother, after all."
you nod.
your hand comes up to cover his that's on your face and the room seems to still. the steady hum of the ac fades away, the cicadas outside vanish, and the thumping of your own heart amplifies. jungwon is looking you square in the eye and you can't help but cower under his gaze.
just as jungwon makes a move to lean closer, a loud knock and your mother's voice rips the moment away.
"dinner's ready! come eat!"
jungwon pulls his hand back and you scramble off his bed. you hurriedly cross the room, flinging jungwon's bedroom door open and stepping out, not sparing another glance behind you.
---
you toss and turn that night.
your face still tingles from where jungwon touched you. your mind is reeling with so many thoughts, your imagination seemingly going into each and every unexplored direction.
you and jungwon grew close during the years you spent together since your parents got married. it was like becoming friends. you had to learn things about each other, know what makes the other tick. the two of you never shied away from showing who you truly are. you'd be living under the same roof for the most part, so what's the point in hiding, right?
and jungwon never hid his affection for you. brotherly hugs, encouraging pats on the back, kisses on your forehead. he told yu over and over again how happy he was that you were his sister. that you were the best sister.
and you never hid how much you needed jungwon, either. he taught you how to get home on the bus from college on the weekends. he helped you with any handiwork you required in your room. he gave you the ins and outs of the college cliques and clubs.
jungwon always told you he loves you. you always reached out to jungwon. neither was a secret.
so, what's making you so nervous?
before you can answer yourself, you hear the hinges of your door squeak as it opens. in the dim light of your room, you see a figure step through the doorway, startling you slightly.
"sorry, it's me," jungwon whispers. "i couldn't sleep."
you feel your heart quicken once more as you sit up, watching jungwon make his way to your bed. he plops down on the mattress and looks at you.
"mind if i crash here for a while?" jungwon asks quietly.
jungwon does this on some nights, reasoning the bouts of insomnia as he snuggles up to your side. half of the time he talks, telling you stories of what he did during the day, and the other half he spends holding you to his chest, fingers drawing patterns on your back.
on rare occasions, he asks you to turn away, pressing your back to his front. he sometimes rocks against you gently and whispers how much he loves you in your ear. you feel strange when he does this. but you never complain.
"sure," you reply, scooting to one side of the bed. jungwon moves to lay beside you, pulling the covers over him.
wordlessly, his hands find your hips, tugging you close. you let him, your own arms circling around jungwon's torso. he's warm and smells like fresh laundry. you don't hide the way you inhale his scent.
you stay like that for a few minutes and you almost think that jungwon has fallen asleep. but after a while, he pulls back slightly to look at you.
you meet his eyes, sharp shadows cast across jungwon's face from your night lamp situated on the other side of your room.
"stay away from jay," jungwon says. your mouth falls open in mild surprise.
"why?" you ask. jungwon sighs, cradling your face once more in his hand.
"he doesn't deserve you," jungwon responds, voice hardened with something you can't quite put your finger on.
jungwon's looking down at you and even in the darkened state of your room, you can see the seriousness in his expression. he's clearly still upset from earlier.
"but mom and dad seem to like him," you reason with a pout. jungwon lets out a 'tsk' grasping your face tighter.
you let out a whimper. jungwon was never this heavy-handed with you.
"but i don't like him," jungwon insists. "you need someone who knows you, who can do things for you, who loves you more than anything."
jungwon pushes you onto your back, his leg swinging over to plant his knee on your other side. he grabs at your wrists and presses them down, trapping you as he hovers over you, his face inches away from yours.
"you need me."
you gasp, unable to comprehend the words that had just left jungwon's mouth. you're given no time to work it out in your head because jungwon is kissing you, pressing his lips to yours. you protest, pushing against jungwon but he's too strong for you to fight back properly. he has you pinned down and there's nothing you can do.
"w-what are you doing?" you say as jungwon pulls away for a second. instead of answering, jungwon busies himself with your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin. you squirm and whine but jungwon doesn't let up.
"i love you," jungwon whispers in your ear.
you shiver.
"you love me, too, right?" jungwon questions as he looks at you. you blink away tears that have gathered in your eyes.
you're just so confused. what is he doing? what is happening?
"answer me, angel," jungwon urges gently. he leans down to kiss away at the tears streaming down the side of your face.
"i do," you return weakly.
"no no," jungwon tuts. "say it properly."
you sniffle as you feel more tears fill your eyes.
"i love you."
jungwon seems satisfied because he kisses you again, tongue running over the seam of your lips. you've never kissed anyone before and it feels so foreign, having jungwon's tongue licking into your mouth. but you follow what he does, parting your lips and moving your tongue with his.
jungwon groans, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to grab at your waist instead. he presses you to him and you feel something stiff against your thigh.
"you make me so hard, angel," jungwon groans. he grinds against your leg and you watch as his expression crumples into pleasure.
"t-this is wrong," you sob. "we're not supposed to do this."
and you do feel conflicted with it all. everything you've learned in church, everything you've read through His word, it all says that this is bad. that you should only lay with the man you love, the man you married.
oh, but you do love jungwon. you've loved him since the day you met him.
"do you want to stop?" jungwon asks, stilling above you. you continue to cry, your legs squeezing together as you feel wet heat pool in your underwear.
"God will forgive us, angel girl," jungwon coos, a hand dipping beneath your pajama top.
you mewl as you feel jungwon squeeze at one of your boobs.
"He knows how much we love each other, so he'll forgive us, don't you worry," jungwon reassures as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.
"then we'll make it up to Him with a cute little wedding at a faraway chapel," jungwon continues, his other hand tugging down your shorts and underwear.
you're breathing heavily now, head spinning as your whole body heats up. the ache between your legs grows stronger.
"then we'll have babies," jungwon says. "so many babies we'll be filling up our own pew at church."
you gasp as you feel jungwon's fingers press against your core, working on the nub that you've ever really encountered twice or thrice before, too scared to be condemned to hell if you continued to touch yourself.
"what if we have a baby now, huh?" jungwon asks, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. "make you a mommy so no one can take you from me."
you shake your head, initially appalled at his words, but the thought of carrying jungwon's child, it stirs something in you.
"no?" jungwon asks, voice hinting with playfulness. "you don't want it?"
you look up at jungwon, struggling to find the words to say. you want it but your conscience screams at you to refuse.
"i want it," you finally answer. "want to give you a baby."
"fuck," jungwon curses as the words leave your mouth. he hurriedly discards his shorts, eyes seemingly ablaze.
"yeah? gonna give your brother a baby?" jungwon taunts, fingers circling at your core again. you moan wantonly, a million different feelings coursing through your body.
jungwon pokes in one finger through your entrance and you nearly scream, unprepared for the strange sensation.
"sshhh," jungwon says, pressing down on your mouth with one hand. he adds a second finger in slowly and your back arches off the bed.
"look at you," jungwon says with a grin. "your body responds so well to me, huh, angel?"
you cry into jungwon's palm as you feel him pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside every time he pushes in. you feel a tightness in your belly and more wetness pooling out of you. your body jolts with every movement of jungwon's fingers.
"shit, i can't take this anymore," jungwon mutters, pulling his fingers out. you whine, hips involuntarily pushing up as they search for friction.
"i got you," jungwon says, taking his hand off your face. the room is filled with your soft sobs, a mix of the lingering guilt and the newfound pleasure.
jungwon strokes his shaft a few times and you watch with bated breath as he aligns himself between your legs. you feel him push against you and you start to cry even harder, fear of what's to come gripping you like no other.
jungwon pushes halfway in and any scream threatening to break free from your lips is muted by jungwon pressing his mouth to yours. you cry and cry and cry as jungwon keeps pushing in, burying himself to the hilt seconds later.
he stills, pulling away to let you breathe. you hiccup, the stretch between your legs equal parts painful and filling in the best way possible.
"s-so big," you sob. "c-can feel you in my belly."
jungwon groans, his hip snapping up involuntarily. you whine, biting down hard on your lip.
"yeah? can you feel me here?" jungwon asks, a large hand pressing down on your lower abdomen. he starts to move then, slowly pulling out then thrusting back in.
"yes!" you gasp. "yes, yes, it's so deep."
"God, angel, you sound so beautiful when you're being fucked," jungwon says, speeding up.
"recite to me your favorite bible verse," jungwon commands. you barely hear him with the way he's moving his hips against yours.
"w-what?" you mumble in a daze.
jungwon takes hold of your face, forcing you to look directly at him.
"your favorite bible verse, angel girl. let me hear your pretty voice."
you rack your brain for it. you should know it by heart, have it seared into your consciousness. but the way jungwon is taking you right at this moment wipes away nearly all thoughts of scripture.
"no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man," you begin, trying to keep your voice steady as jungwon scrutinizes you, fingers still digging into your cheeks.
"God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability," you continue. jungwon smirks, nodding, urging you to go on.
you're about to speak when you feel jungwon's thumb press down on your sensitive nub. you cry out, the added sensation muddling your brain even further.
"go on," jungwon orders.
"b-but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to e-ndure it," you finish with a shaky breath.
"good job, angel," jungwon says, letting go of your face and leaning in to kiss you briefly on your forehead.
your head falls back against your pillow, your vision blurring as all you can feel is jungwon moving in and out of you. all you can think of is jungwon. all you ever need, right at this moment, is jungwon.
your brother. the man you love. the man you want to have all your babies with.
"so tight, so fucking tight," jungwon babbles, pushing your legs up so he can get a better angle. your lower half rises off the bed and jungwon fucks into you even harder, snapping his hips against your insides with a force that has you gripping onto your sheets for dear life.
jungwon continues on like this, sweat dripping down his forehead. any pain is gone now, replaced with a want, a need for some sort of release.
you don't know what compels you to talk, but you can't help the next words that come out of your mouth.
"p-please, jungwon. feels so good. w-wanna be a mommy, want it so bad. n-need it!"
jungwon seems to let himself go then, hips moving erratically, not caring if you're bent nearly in half, his grip on your thighs painful as his fingernails poke at your skin. it feels good, you think, your insides clenching and tingling at the sight of jungwon getting nearly animalistic with you.
it almost fills you with joy. knowing that he's only ever like this with you.
a few moments later, jungwon's hips start to stutter.
"gonna give you my babies, angel girl. i'm so close, so close to making you a mommy—fuck!"
the words from jungwon stop any coherent thought in your brain as a sort of euphoria takes over you, your whole body tightening up. jungwon completely stills, pressing himself in deeper. a warm feeling spreads from where he's sheathed inside you.
the two of you remain unmoving, panting as your minds catch up with your bodies. jungwon pulls out moments later, replacing his cock with his fingers. you protest weakly as jungwon moves his fingers shallowly in and out of you.
"i came so much, angel," jungwon says with a chuckle. he pulls his fingers out and shows you his fingers, coated with his milky white release.
"your belly's gonna be all swollen up in nine months, for sure," jungwon muses, pushing his fingers against your mouth. you part your lips hesitantly, licking at the saltiness.
"good girl," jungwon praises, pulling his hand away before kissing you sweetly.
"i love you," jungwon mumbles against your lips.
you hold his face steady, thumbs rubbing at his cheeks. you meld your lips together, the elation finally catching up to you.
there are no stained glass windows in your room, your body bare and void of pretty dresses, and the night is still and quiet.
it's still sunday. it's still your happy day.
"i love you, too," you say as you and jungwon share a smile.
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Text
Alastor - [DEVOTION…. Pt. 2]
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[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] + [ MENTIONS OF BLOOD & GORE ]
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Beautiful days weren't uncommon in New Orleans.
They frequently occurred -even more so during the late summer months in the swamped countryside- where you now found yourself traveling through alongside your husband.
Alastor had decided it was high time both of you visited your recently conjoined families. His mother constantly asked to see you again, calling twice a week like clockwork to check on her darling son and his ever-so-sweet wife, and you appreciated her sincere affection.
You missed visiting her in person, learning things from her, and observing how much adoration she had for Alastor..
In a sense, she'd raised you like her own daughter, taking the place of your mother, who'd passed before you'd even taken your first steps. Your father was adamant a 'fever' took her, but Alastor's mother always hinted at a force greater than unfortunate health having to do with it.
You'd never thought to ask what she meant, trusting her wise and kind words wholeheartedly since Alastor was your only friend, but curiosity did plague your thoughts from time to time.
Her passing was a tragedy you could barely remember….
However, it was in the past, your mother was gone with your childhood, and you were now in the present -married to a man you never wished to part from…
Even more so now that he'd revealed how truly devoted he was to you and you alone…
“….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…”
Those words of his rang loud and clear in your head for days on end, making your heart flutter ten times harder than it usually did when he was near and coaxing a particular passion for making him happy out of you at every opportunity given.
Your infatuation had grown into undeterred loyalty and in your opinion he deserved every bit of it.
Alastor worked tirelessly to further his career. Reaping the benefits of such hard work through copious amounts of money and awards from various admirers.
He'd perfected so many things to reach that point, hiding his natural down home drawl with a perfect transatlantic accent -you found both charming but preferred the first. Although, you understood why he’d mastered the ladder accent, and never insisted upon him disregarding it.
It was what made his character, brought the masses running back for more each time he was on air, and what kind of wife would you be if you asked him to refute all the admiration for simple and selfish reasons?..
He wasn’t home often enough to have such conversations in the first place…
Alastor was no stranger to working late into the evening, writing script after script past midnight at the station, and only returning home when he was sure his manuscripts were crystal clear.
That’s what you were made to believe he was doing anyway.
Alastor made sure of that.
In your eyes he was perfect, hardworking, and utterly perfect…
Not the merciless, flesh hungry, murder that’d been stalking the streets of New Orleans for almost six consecutive months…
To your knowledge Alastor had no flaws, no deep, dark secrets you felt the need to uncover, and certainly not a man with a tainted sense of morality you couldn't fully trust.
He ensured your view of him remained spotless, devoid of bloodthirst or cruelty.
You were too innocent for it, too pure to know what he'd done and continued to do for the sake of self-satisfaction, but there is always a time for truths to come to light…
Nevertheless, Alastor strived to make sure that time never came…
So, when the city became on edge, being put under a curfew by law enforcement in hopes of slowing the occurrence of his murders, and the number of police patrols significantly increased, Alastor decided a nice…long…relaxing vacation to the countryside would be an excellent idea.
Nothing suspicious about the idea at all…
You were ecstatic about the trip, rushing to pack things for the both of you the very evening he mentioned it, and Alastor was genuinely pleased to see you so excited.
You were painfully unaware of his true motives…so willing to spend time with him and leave the fear-induced city behind…
Oh, how he loved it…you and your gentle, naive nature…
Truly, a warm-hearted belle safe and sound in his bloodstained grasp.
He almost felt guilty, looking at you now, taking your first bare footsteps into the dewy summer grass surrounding his mother's home. Your eyes lit up like the high noon sun shining down on you both, soft lips pulled into a satisfied smile as you reacquainted yourself with fresh summer air, "God, I missed this.." you whispered to yourself as the comforting wind blew through your hair.
Alastor laughed softly, smile ever present as you did a twirl in the grass before looking at him over your shoulder, "Well, aren't you gonna join me, Al? Or am I gonna have to get a hug from your mother first?"
He narrowed his eyes, smile softening at the mention of her, "First? My dear, are you askin' for a race?"
You grinned, giggling as you shrugged playfully while walking backward towards the pathway leading to his mother's home, "Only if you're agreeing to one, honey.." you respond cheekily.
Your husband could never resist a challenge.
Ever.
You’d realized that very early on in your time with him, using it to your advantage more often than he realized.
Getting your way with Alastor was a special skill unique to you and not a soul else…
A smirk tugged at your lips as Alastor pushed off from leaning against the car, rolling his sleeves up as he strode towards you, "Daring, little thing, aren't you?" He teased, having to yell as you spun on your heel and took off without warning.
You let out a laugh, hearing him give chase, only a meter behind you in less than three seconds, and his subtle chiding at your attempt at cheating urging you to beat him.
"Looks like I'll beat you, dearest!" He boasts, drawing nearer to you within seconds, but hesitating to pass you by as he took in the sight of your white cotton dress riding higher up your thighs as you ran.
A delectable view for him in more ways than one…
Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen such a carefree and angelic sight. Nor, did he want to when you were right in front of him.
You scoffed at his teasing, oblivious to Alastor’s longing stare as you hiked up the front hem of your dress to hop over a fallen tree branch, but when you landed, he was at your side -a smirk already sneaking its way onto his face as you shot him a surprised glance.
When had he gotten so fast?…
You weren't sure, but Alastor had always been more physically fit than most, so you merely tried to keep up with him as the end of the path approached.
He beat you by five feet at least, but you were in too much of a giggle fit to notice. "You cheated!" You chirped, faking a pout as he leaned against one of the dark timber poles that upheld the wrap-around porch. "I was only beating you at your own game, ma chère… fair is fair." Alastor flashed you a grin, pushing his glasses to rest on top of his head before raising a hand to swipe the specks of dust that'd landed on his cheek during your short race.
You smiled at the rare, docile, boyish action. Alastor was never one to altogether drop his guard, so when moments like this occurred, you'd relish in it for as long as possible.
"Here, let me…" you spoke softly, still a little breathless after running but eager to help your husband. Alastor dropped his hand from his face, leaning down to make your reach for him less strenuous, and you smiled at the tiny habit.
He'd always considered your height difference, and your tummy fluttered at each implication of it.
Using the back of your dress sleeve, you carefully wiped at his cheek as he stared at you, allowing you to gingerly guide his face from side to side with your small hand cupping his jaw. "There, much better, monsieur.." you compliment him with a flirtatious drawl, admiring his dust free skin in the sunlight as a few strands of his wavy brown hair shifts over his eyes from the wind.
Alastor returns your admiration, gaze lowering to your lips when you speak and slowly rising again as you place the round glasses back on his face. "Thank you,'ma chère," he sighs gratefully, natural southern drawl shining through as he speaks, finding himself out of breathless as you stare up at him lovingly.
In all his life Alastor could count on one hand how many times an inkling of ‘love’ had trickled its way into his heart. You seemed to be a factor in at least half of those memories.
He deemed that fact more than enough reason to kill for you if fate ever dictated harm your way…
What man wouldn't spill a bit of blood for a woman that looks at him the way you are looking at him now..?
A lesser one, surely.
Alastor considered himself far from the definition of a lesser man..
“It’s my pleasure,” you mutter in response, shifting to step around him and knock on the door, but Alastor stops you by wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you in close to gently kiss your nose, then your lips, and you return the intimate gesture on instinct.
He hums deep within his chest as your soft lips melt into his, grip tightening on your waist as he unconsciously glides his tongue along yours, and you successfully stifle a moan at the unexpected intrusion.
Was that….blood you tasted on him?…
You weren't given much time to register the iron residue mixed with the hints of black coffee you'd made for him that morning since the sound of a door swinging open startled you half to death before any connection could be made.
"Oh, well, would you get a look at you two!" Angelique Hartifelt beamed as she registered who was on her doorstep. Alastor immediately let you go, smiling wide as his mother tugged him into an airtight hug, and you blushed at the heartwarming sight.
"Hello, mother," Alastor mumbled into her dark curls, swaying her in his arms as she took him in, "My, you've grown baby…real successful too, I hear.." She laughed as he nodded, both clearly happy to see each other after so long, but she eventually pulled away from Alastor to turn her attention to you.
"Sweet girl… c'mere! God, you're just as pretty as a magnolia in May!" You had no time to reply as she hugged you tight, kissing your cheek while you giggled and greeted her politely, "You're too kind, Mrs. Hartifelt … It's nice to see you again! I've missed you dearly!"
She stepped back, grinning as wide as her son as she spun you around, "Don't be silly, honey! Married life becomes you! I missed seeing your lovely self, too. Maybe if Al stopped working so much, you'd have more time to stop by.." She gave him a playful glare, to which he flashed an apologetic smile.
"I'll try to remember that, Mother.." he tipped his head in understanding, and she swatted his arm lightly. "Oh, you know I'm only poking fun, baby. Come on inside, I wanna hear about the two of you…"
She paused, ushering you in the door first with a knowing smile, "…and if I have any grandchildren on the way." Her jest made you turn bright red, but her lighthearted laughter that followed eased your nerves.
However, Alastor's face fell for a moment as she said it, the two of you sharing a strange stare as Angelique closed the behind her and whisked past you both to lead the way into the kitchen.
It was only for a split second, but you could've sworn Alastor looked…
Hopeful…?
Or rather, genuinely affected by the mention of having a child with you…
The complex expression vanished from his face just as quickly as it appeared, his gaze shifting from you to his mother as she set a pitcher of sweet tea and a plate full of cookies out, and you instantly focused on the dish of sweets as the sugary smell invaded your nose.
You were here to enjoy her company, get away from the world and its burdensome worries, and overthinking Alastor’s every reaction wouldn’t be a good start to that….
Besides, her sweets were always your favorite; she'd shown you how to bake, and you attributed most of your cooking skills to her teaching. Alastor had also picked up a great deal of culinary tricks from her, and it became another hobby you two bonded over during childhood.
"Those look amazing, Mrs. Hartifelt," you flashed her a smile, humming as you pretended to swoon over them, and she laughed at your slight dramatics. "I suspected you'd stop by, so I made your favorite, honey. Come on, sit!"
"Don't mind if I do," you chirped and sat next to her at the modestly round dining table; she poured you both a glass of sweet tea before looking over at Alastor expectantly. "That means you too," she gently scolded his standoff-ish behavior, watching as he took a seat on her unoccupied side and patting his cheek in gratitude as he did.
Alastor leaned into her touch, mumbling an apology for not accompanying her sooner, "I got lost in thought, is all…" he clarified in a soft chuckle, and she nodded in understanding.
"Mmm, really, what about?"
His gaze shifted to you again, and your body momentarily froze as he stared while answering his mother, "How much I love you…that’s all.”
Whether he meant to direct the phrase towards you or his mother was unclear, but your chest tightened, and your head filled with fog nonetheless.
How could he still manage to make you so unsteady within the simplest efforts and gestures?…
Alastor held your gaze for a minute longer, forgetting where he was presently, but his self induced trance vanished as his mother spoke again.
"I see you still haven’t lost your charm to the big city. That radio show must keep you on your toes, then.."
He nodded, laughing gently at his mother's teasing, "I wouldn’t dream of it, and my audience expects the best, so I must deliver."
She nods, humming as her chocolate eyes drift towards you, "And how is my lovely son treating you, sweetheart? Well, I presume?"
You could hear the hint of curiosity in her tone, light but underlying seriousness in her question. It was no secret to her that Alastor had…certain tendencies, but those were reserved for people who deserved it, and you'd never been deemed deserving.
She hoped it remained that way…
To her inner relief, you answered her with the broadest smile and happiest tone, "Oh, of course! I couldn't have asked for a better husband! You raised him well..a true gentleman, Mrs. Hartifelt."
Alastor smirked, reveling in your praise, unbothered by his mother eyeing him carefully before she gave you a pleasant response, "I'm glad to hear that. You're still sweet on him too…just like when you were little."
You blushed, taking a ginger bite of one cookie while nodding, "Mhm.."
Why you became nervous when your childlike crush on Alastor was brought up was a mystery, but you couldn't help it since both of your families saw your subtle pining for him day in and day out.
"Speaking of 'little'…" his mother sat straight, arms crossed over her chest as she glanced at the both of you, "When are you two gonna give me a grandbaby to look after. I'm not getting any younger, Al.."
That look crossed his face again, but his smile remained.
You, however, nearly choked on your sweet treat, but luckily managed not to make an utter fool of yourself. A minor cough and a quick sip from your glass eased your mishap.
Angelique patted your back gently, laughing softly at your reaction, "Honey, I'm only kidding… there's no rush." Her reassurance was genuine, but unbeknownst to her, Alastor had breached the subject already.
Albeit in the heat of a very intense and lust-driven moment.
"Ma chère," Alastor rose from his chair, slight concern on his face as he came to kneel by your chair, "…are you alright?"
You nodded slowly, smiling softly at him before huffing out, "M' fine…no need to worry.." he nodded in return, standing to his feet to address her implications.
"We'll see what the future holds, Mother, but as of now, are we welcome to your hospitality for a few days?"
He knew she'd say 'yes' but made it a habit to ask.
Alastor maintained impeccable manners, just as she'd taught him to have, and it brought a proud glint to Angelique’s eyes.
"Now, Al, why would I ever say no to that. You two stay as long as you want!"
You tipped your head in gratitude, "Thank you, Mrs. Hartifelt.."
She scoffed, placing her hand over one of yours before leaning in close as if to tell you a secret Alastor shouldn’t hear.
"Even after all these years and being married to my boy, you're still so polite, Y/n. The world won't burn to a crisp if you call me 'mother' sweetheart."
She kissed your temple, and your heart melted at the tender gesture, "We are family, after all."
That was true…
"I suppose you're right, Mrs- I mean mother." You tripped over the words, so used to being formal but enjoying the new arrangement.
It felt natural enough.
"Look how easy that was!" Angelique patted your hand assuredly, stood from her seat, and began to clear the table.
There was no doubt in your mind that Alastor got his charm from her….
Your revelation was cut short as she absentmindedly spoke to you again, "Pay your father a visit before you settle in. I'm sure he'd like to see you…he comes by often asking about you two a lot these days.."
You stiffened at the mention of your father, recalling the last time you'd seen him.
Exactly a year ago.
The day you married Alastor…
After that, you'd barely spoken to him, not because you wished for distance but because he'd established it.
Your father may have agreed to your marriage with Alastor, but he only partially warmed up to your husband. He'd looked upon him with a hidden distaste from the very beginning of your friendship.
"Something's off about that boy…" he’d say.
Then proceed to warn you of a danger that never existed in your opinion. "You be careful around him…real careful.."
When he realized your attraction to Alastor his nagging only worsened, "He's a charmer…those are never good for anything. You remember that."
For years, his assumptions of Alastor irked you to no end; it perplexed you why he even married you off to him, but whenever you'd search for answers, he'd give the same vague answer.
"That boy isn't what he seems. Never has been and never will be.."
Frustrating as he was, you could never bring yourself to hate him for it, but the thought of having to endure his morbid company wasn’t comforting at all.
Alastor recognized the distress in your gentle features, your bright eyes narrowing at the tabletop, and your hands wringing around each other nervously.
All because of him.
Mr. L/n...
The one man who seemed to get a clue as to who and what Alastor was without anything other than a so-called ‘gut feeling’.
Alastor had tried for years to mask his true nature from him, but your father saw right through him at every encounter.
He had been and still was Alastor’s worst agitation…
Such a bothersome fool…
Your husband averted his oncoming glare to the nearest wall before wiping the disdain off his face, and reaching a hand out to caress your back. You relaxed under his firm touch, looking up to him as his thumb rubbed soothing circles into your spine, "It'll only be a short visit, my dear. We'll have the whole weekend after that…"
His smile eased your fretting, leading you to nod and smile back. "Alright… y-you'll come with me, yes?"
Absolutely not-
Alastor inwardly hushed his shadow demon, tipping his head in warning to the spectrum and forcing it to hold its tongue before it overrode his consciousness.
His smile widened, the hand on your back sliding up to cup your cheek, "Of course, mon chere. I wouldn't dream of letting you go alone.."
We should-
His shadow attempted to cut in again, but Alastor withheld its advance with a simple command.
Hush up. Now…
Fortunately, it ceased all communication, and his focus on you went unhindered.
You stood from your chair, rising on your tiptoes to peck his lips with your own, whispering against them before you pulled away.
"Thank you… Sometimes I dont know what I'd do without you…"
Alastor cursed the sharp pang that penetrated his heart as you said those words, an eerie sense of Deja vu hitting him in waves, but the uneasy feeling never showed on his face -not until you thanked his mother one last time before flurrying upstairs to freshen up.
Angelique felt her son’s mood shift, intuition leading her to ask him what was on his mind, "Something wrong?.."she mumbles calmly without ceasing in her task of cleaning.
Alastor remained silent for a long moment, watching as his mother moved on to pulling out ingredients to cook for dinner, and when she turned to face him entirely, he found the sense to speak.
"It's gettin' worse…" he confessed through a tight-lipped smile, leaning back against a wall to keep his composure, and she needed no other clues to figure out his cause for distress.
"The killing' or the magic?" She inquires, back to him, and but her voice laced with evident care.
"Both. It's getting to me..bad…more frequently.." he confesses.
Angelique hums in understanding, "Have you been hunting at all these past few weeks?.."
Alastor took his glasses off, breath coming out strained as his eyes shifted from their usual whiskey color to a redder hue.
"No. Not since…" he falters, gritting his teeth as his unruly spectral companion cut into his train of thought.
Not since you fucked her-
"I said shut the hell up…" Alastor seethed out loud, eyes screwing shut as his shadow danced onto the wall, yet his mother remained unphased by the sudden outburst.
She merely peered at the taunting shadow, causing it to cower back in her son's tall frame, "Go hunting while you're here. That'll take the edge off, but get that spirit in check before you do, or it won't end well. You hear me?"
Alastor nodded, rolling his neck to alleviate the tension in his body before recapturing his shadow and flashing his mother an understanding smile.
Her advice was final, a direct warning to him, and it garnered a welcomed sense of control over his frazzled behavior.
His smile lost its crazed edge, drawing into a polite smirk as he peered at her expectantly.
"Do you happen to have my old hunting gear lying around?.."
She turned towards the stove, not affected by his sudden personality switch by any means, and simply motioned a hand upstairs before answering him, "In your father's old study. Right where you left it, behind the bookshelf…."
Alastor perked up, grinning wide as the memory of his last hunting spree crossed his mind, "Merci, mother." He thanked her, walking over to kiss her cheek before exiting the homely kitchen while humming a new tune as he strode up the steps with newfound confidence.
Tonight, he'd look for prey…
How he'd satiate his shadow's pesky intrusions was a matter he'd have to solve later.
Although, if the way it constantly became hyperactive at the mere mention or sight of you had anything to do with it Alastor was certain you were the solution to the problem.
+++++
The visit with your father went as you expected it to go.
He welcomed you with open arms and a tender smile, but when he saw Alastor climbing the marble steps of your family’s estate, his cordial behavior waned.
“I see you’ve brought him along…” he made no effort to hide the distaste in his tone as Alastor reached your side.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well Mr, L/n…” Your husband remained polite as always, masking his hatred for the man with a practiced facade of kindness.
Alastor became more affectionate towards you in his presence, going so far as to kiss the top of your head and wrapping an arm around your waist protectively, making every effort to keep you close throughout the tense reunion.
Your father clearly did not take a liking to his indirect aggravations it at all…
Yet, he said nothing on the matter, cutting your visit short with the tired excuse of having an 'important engagement' he needed to attend to.
So, in under an hour of resisting your childhood home, you found yourself walking back through the secret trail you and Alastor had paved years ago to commute across, and with each step, you felt more at ease.
You weren't quick to anger, but your father's jabs towards Alastor never ceased to ruin your mood. Thankfully, your husband seemed more eclectic than when you'd arrived in the countryside, and that, in turn, brightened your previously somber spirits.
Alastor held your arm under his as the two of you trekked along the path, going over small hills, thin creeks, and finally through a line of forestry bordering his mother's home.
The sun was beginning to set as you entered the forest end of your journey. The warm summer wind becoming a bit chilly as it whipped through the large willow and evergreen trees. Alastor kept you close, better acquainted with the woods than you were, but not because he'd memorized the path from childhood.
No, his memory of it stemmed from the many bloody escapades he'd enjoyed there and intended to continue sooner rather than later…
All for a rush, for the flesh, for the undisputed thrill.
Even now he couldn't stop grinning, thinking about it, failing to dampen his excitement as he led you both through the darkening woods.
You glanced up at him, happy to see Alastor so content despite your awful encounter with your father, "I apologize for him… he's…" you paused, trying to find the right words to describe your father's behavior, but he beat you to it with a gentle laugh.
"A cynical old man who believes that I'm no good for you?"
His voice held an edge, but you took the comment as playful heat and not as a harmful insult the way Alastor intended it to sound.
You couldn’t blame him for feeling spiteful about the whole ordeal…
He had every right to be unnerved…
A tender sigh slipped past your lips, and you nodded in agreement as he glanced down at you, "A spot-on depiction…not a pretty one either.." Alastor chuckled, shaking his head dismissively as he reassured you he took no offense to your father's dislike of him.
Though it was somewhat justified.
"Don't you worry yourself about him, my dear. I have you, and he can do nothing about it…"
Not a fucking thing…
You peered up at Alastor, noting the unwavering smile on his face as he spoke, but the glare in his eyes said he felt anything but indifference about the situation.
That worried you…scared you a little…
"Al…" you whispered, halting in your tracks and causing him to do the same. Your brows furrowed as he lowered his head, his breaths becoming heavy as his hold on your arm grew harder, but not enough to harm you.
His smile only grew as you muttered again, "Alastor, …look at me…" your words as tender as ever as you turned on your heel to face him head-on.
Alastor's eyes twitched as you came close, flashing red when you cupped his face with both hands and dipped your head to gain proper eye contact with him.
Concern was written all over you face…
You tried to decipher Alastor’s expression, ignoring the chill running down your spine as his gaze hardened while the air around you grew stiffer by the second.
Was he angry?
It felt as if he were but something in his unwavering stare told you this emotion surpassed that, and you couldn't deny how intensely it radiated off him as he slowly tilted his head at you.
Possessiveness.
Pure, unbridled need for dominance.
Whether it was over you or his state of mind remained unclear as he took a step forward. You made no effort to back away, letting Alastor tower over you, and not once breaking eye contact with him.
“Alastor…you can tell me-“
The comforting words died on your tongue when he jerked you into his chest, large hands finding your wrists as the heated kiss he initiated silenced the surprised yelp that left your lips as they melded with his.
You eyes drifted shut as he deepened the exchange, gradually relenting your body control over to him as he guided your arms to wrap around his neck. Alastor shifted his hold on your wrists to trace down your sides, the ghost like touch sending a shock through you immediately.
He smiled at your skittish reaction, oddly calmer than he was a moment before as he dared to pull similar responses from you. His skilled tongue delved into you mouth, inviting yours to play along while he leveraged his larger frame against your smaller one. You obediently stepped back as he pressed forward, subtly flinching as your backside hit the bark of the nearest tree, yet the scratch of wood on your covered skin failed to bother you as the kiss became feverish.
Desperate…
Alastor was desperate for something…
For what you weren’t certain, unable to think straight when he had you pinned against a decaying evergreen, stealing your breath away with ease, only pulling away from your lips to catch his own breath.
You quietly panted for air as well, blood rushing to your head from the sound of his have breathing mixing with the distant chirps of crickets harmonizing alongside buzzing cicadas.
The wind seemed to lose its chill as it passed between the nonexistent space separating you both.
Alastor held you still in that moment, one hand at the back of your neck to keep your head raised towards his, and the other resting under your chin. His thumb traced over your now spit slick lips, brown eyes following the slight tremble in them as you continued to pant for air.
Oh, how he adored your eagerness to please him. Always so desperate for more of him and never quite aware of your own greediness for his undivided affection.
“What is there for me to tell you, ma chère…?” The words thundered in his chest, almost a low hum in the midst of the surrounding wilderness, but you heard him clear enough.
“How you truly feel….whats behind that smile you fight so hard to maintain.” You gulp down the anxiety trying to creep its way into your tone, inhaling sharply as he pushed a knee between your thighs, and your train of thought came to a halt feeling him put pressure on your thinly covered cunt.
You knew the gesture was a from of distraction on his part, an attempt to avert your attention from the uneasy shift in his mood, and though you wanted to push him back and demand he take your concerns seriously…
The building heat in your core advised otherwise, overriding your urge to coax an explanation from Alastor with the need to be filled by him instead, and the growing amount of stars in your eyes as he continued to toy with your body made it all the more obvious to him.
“I assure you I’m quite alright, darling“ Alastor remained true to his previous claim, smiling softly as your eyes lidded over while your hips tentatively began to rock over his thigh at a sluggish pace, and your hands unraveling from his neck to trail down his chest. The linen fabric of his shirt cooled your burning fingertips, keeping your focus clear enough for another hushed whisper to leave your lips, “Tellin’ me not lie to you but then turning around and doing it yourself…”
You paused, holding his gaze as your tongue darted out to lick at his thumb teasingly, “How is that fair, Alastor, hm?…” your voice remains quiet, the taste of his skin lingering on the tip of your tongue as the questions hangs in the air around you, and it seems to hit a nerve in him.
A flash of red illuminates his irises, smile stretching wide across his face at your seductive actions and reprimanding remarks, “Fair? Is that what you want from me, mon chere? A fair bit of truth?”
His shadow itched to enlarge, wanting nothing more than to show itself to you, and intake the delirious reaction you’d surely have to seeing its monstrous form.
Although, Alastor kept it at bay, settling with trailing the hand on your neck to tangle through your hair, tugging it just rough enough to earn a soft gasp from you, and that action alone hard your inside twisting with anticipation.
You knew he’d never harm you, never lift a finger to imply harsh treatment, but the thrill of finally experiencing a hidden side of your husbands persona had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.
“Yes…” you whimper compliantly, hands fisting the collar of his dress shirt to tug him closer, and Alastor growled at the aggressive action.
“Careful what you ask for, sweet girl…” he warns you through gritted teeth, tempted to kiss you again as an airy giggle leaps from your mouth, “And what if I refuse to be?”
Fuck, I need her…we need her…
His shadow twitched, writhing in the waning light of the sun at your taunting, and embodying every ounce of excitement the man before you struggled to contain as the heat of your cunt gliding over his thigh persisted with every gentle buck of your hips against him.
Alastor felt his blood run hot as you pried at his self control, the corner of your lips pulling up into a knowing smile as he stared at you hungrily, and not a single drop of apprehension present in your gaze as he lowered his head to whisper in your ear.
“Then I suppose I’m left with no other choice than to remind you what happens to curious little cats, my dear…”
xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx
Idk if I hate or love this chapter…like I’m so used to writing smut that writing angst or fluff feels so dreadful to me. Plus, you guys liked the first part so much I didn’t want to fuck this up…I promise the next part is pure smut and gore lol. This was essentially a filler part (I’m sorry)… ❤️ also did you guys catch the Princess and the Frog reference I threw in?!? If you did then I freakin adore you hehehe ❤️
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
I’d cry, scream, fucking beg for this man…it’s fucking ridiculous how much I love him tbhhhh ❤️ credit to creator
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elsweetheart · 1 year
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crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au
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synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.
♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?
an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡
You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.
You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.
Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.
You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.
‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’
You smile.
Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.
The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.
Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.
Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.
You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.
“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.
“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.
“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.
“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.
“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.
You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.
“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.
You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.
“Then you can sleep in the dark.”
You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?
“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”
You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.
“Atta girl.”
You clench your jaw.
The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.
Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.
She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.
You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.
“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”
She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”
You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.
She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“Uber.”
It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”
Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.
Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)
Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.
And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.
God, did you always dance like this when you went out?
She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.
After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.
She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.
“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.
“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.
She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.
“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”
Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.
“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.
“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.
“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.
Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.
“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.
“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.
She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.
You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.
“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.
“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.
“Headphones. Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.
You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.
“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.
“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.
“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.
“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.
“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”
Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.
You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.
The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.
It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.
You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.
“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.
“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.
You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.
“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.
“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”
The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”
She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.
The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.
“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.
“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.
“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.
“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.
“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.
“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.
You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”
At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”
You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.
“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.
“I am not a brat.”
“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.
After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.
“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.
“And?”
“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”
You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”
She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”
“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.
“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.
“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”
She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.
“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.
“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.
“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.
“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.
“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.
“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.
“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”
The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.
“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.
“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.
“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.
By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.
You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.
“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.
“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”
You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.
However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.
You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’
You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.
When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.
It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.
Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.
You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.
“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.
You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.
Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.
You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.
You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.
You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.
Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.
You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.
Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.
“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.
“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.
Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?
As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.
You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.
“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.
“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.
“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.
“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”
You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.
She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.
“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.
“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.
You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.
“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.
“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.
“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.
“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”
“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.
“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”
You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.
“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.
You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”
“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.
You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”
She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”
You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.
She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”
The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”
She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.
“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.
“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.
“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.
You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.
You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.
“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.
“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”
She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.
“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.
It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”
You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.
“Then what?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.
“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”
You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.
“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.
She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.
“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”
“Please show me.”
“Like that, good job.”
Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.
“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.
You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”
She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.
You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.
She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.
You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.
“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.
“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”
With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.
She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.
A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.
“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.
“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”
You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.
You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.
Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.
“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”
“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.
She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.
“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.
You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?
“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.
“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.
“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.
“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.
The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.
“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.
“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.
You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.
“So big.” You mewl.
“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.
“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.
“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.
“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.
“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.
“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.
“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.
She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”
“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.
“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.
You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.
“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.
“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.
“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.
“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?
She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.
The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.
Maybe you’d let her stick around.
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starogeorgina · 10 months
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Redemption
Warning: Swearing, smut, hints of violence
Pairing: Ivar × reader
1.01
“Ivar!”
“What?” He whines like a child before placing a soft kiss on your bare hip and pouting up at you, his lips still slightly red and swollen from kissing you so roughly. “I told you I wanted us to have a child of our own,” he states, pushing himself further down the bed so he can have a full view of your own puffy lips. Ivar had a fascination with watching his cum drip out of you. He would often try to push it back in with his fingers or clean you up with his tongue. “I want to see you around with my child, a creation of our love.”
“I know you do.” You let out a soft groan when his finger lightly brushes over your clit. “But I’m so sensitive, I just need a moment to…”
“You’ve spilled too much of my seed,” he says, ignoring what you previously said. “I’ll need to put more inside you if we wish for this to work.”
“Hmm… fuck!” You moan loudly as he places a strong hand on either side of your head before thrusting himself inside you for the third time that evening.
Fucking was one of your favourite things to do, but Ivar would push you to the point of exhaustion with how many orgasms he gave you. He always made sure you came at least once before fucking you into oblivion.
You nip at Ivar’s bare chest with your teeth, and he flinches slightly, causing you to giggle. Burying your face into his neck, you mumble, “How long will you be gone for?”
“I am unsure, but I will return to you,” he says, kissing the back of your knuckles, “to our family as a proud man, not as a cripple.”
Shuffling into a more comfortable position on your back, you let out a huff. You understood why Ivar needed to go to England with his father, but you still didn’t like it. Usually you remained close by his side, but being pregnant, you decided to stay behind in Kattegat, despite Ragnar asking you to join them personally. Queen Aslaug had a dream of her husband and son drowning because of a storm, but neither of them cared much for her warning, so you tried not to worry too much; you needed to believe Ivar would always find his way back to you. Letting out a deep sigh, your hand moves to cradle your ever-growing bump.
“My sweet, sweet Drifa, I can see the doubt in your eyes, but I assure you I will not die on this journey.”
“You better not; I’ll need you by my side when I deliver our child. I don’t want to do it alone.”
“You won’t be alone. If I’m not here, my brothers and mother will remain by your side.”
“I know,” you say, toying with strands of fur from the blanket covering your chest, “but they aren’t you.”
Ivar kisses the crown of your head, stroking your hair as you start to fall asleep. There was no possible way he could assure you he wouldn’t die, but he would try to comfort you the best he could. You’d grown up alongside the sons of Ragnar, with your mother and Aslaug being so close, so you’d known Ivar all your life. You had considered him your closest friend before any romantic relationship had developed between you, but the flames of desire had been burning ever since he killed a boy who tried to force himself on you.
It would absolutely break your heart if Ivar didn’t return home.
You opened your eyes, scanning the dimly lit room to see where the sound in the distance was coming from. You saw nothing but recognised the heavy breathing as your husband's, so you closed your eyes again. Leaning your head back, you try to enjoy the warmth surrounding your body as Ivar drags himself into the room. You had the slaves fill you with a bath as soon as you woke, scrubbing continuously to wash away the blood that stained your skin. Your thighs and groin were red and raw, but you continued to clean each time you saw the blood from your miscarriage reappear.
It seemed like the right decision at the time to remain in Kattegat, but you were there when the village came under attack and witnessed Lagertha killing Aslaug while her back was turned. Moments later, you fell to the ground, screaming as a pain ripped through your lower abdomen as you lost your unborn child.
Lagertha had spared your life after you attempted to kill her by throwing an ax at her head. She thought that by letting you live, the sons of Ragnar wouldn’t seek revenge for their mother. Oh, how wrong she was.
“They say being in water so warm isn’t good for you, my love.” Your husband says he's propping himself up by his arms, leaning them on the side of the tub so he’s level with you.
You shrug.
“I can have one of the slaves help you get out and dressed if you’re in too much pain.”
Shaking your head, you press your forehead against Ivar’s. To most, he was a sadist and bloodthirsty man, nothing more than a man who craved violence to fill the void in his heart, but he had never treated you with anything but kindness and respect. Ivar found the love he always craved from you in spite of others thinking your relationship would fail. Since Margarethe spread rumors claiming Ivar couldn’t please a woman sexually, the other sons of Ragner enjoyed teasing Ivar, saying it wouldn’t be long until you left him for someone else, not that you ever would.
“No, that won’t be necessary. Besides, I want to stay in here until the water cools down.”
Ivar brushes damp hair behind your ear as tears start to roll down your cheeks. “Perhaps the gods took our child early so that my mother wouldn’t be alone.”
“Perhaps,” you sob. Ivar had been furious upon learning of his mother's death and had sworn to kill Lagertha one day, but he was trying his best to contain his rage around you. “Queen Aslaug deserved better. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop what happened to her, but her death will be avenged.”
“We will have our revenge on Lagertha, but for now we will bid our time. First you will regain your strength, then we will have revenge on those who are responsible for my father's death, and then we will have retribution for what happened to my mother.”
A mixture of dampness and thick smoke hung heavily in the air as you stepped outside for the first time in days. Hiding away wasn’t going to change what happened, and you wanted to at least appear strong on the outside. The first person to greet you is Ubbe, who pulls you into a hug. “I’m sorry, Drifa; I know how happy you and Ivar were to finally start a family of your own.”
Hvitserk hugs you next but says nothing. Behind you, Sigurd makes a crude comment about Ivar losing his mommy and then his surrogate mommy right after. You keep your composure, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Sigurd had attempted to seduce you several times since you married his brother, but each time you rejected him, making him bitter towards you.
“That’s enough,” Ubbe snaps.
Irritated, your fingers tap against one of the tables loudly, gaining all of the brothers attention. You narrow your eyes at Sigurd as your fingers slide over the selection of weapons already laid out on the table for the purpose of gutting fish.
“Just ignore him,” Hvitserk says, attempting to calm you down. “My brother is just jealous; he doesn’t even have a woman to stick his cock in.”
“Is that right, Sigurd? You are making jokes at the expense of my dead child because your dick is lonely? I’m sure we could find a nice pig for you.”
His face reddens with embarrassment when his brothers all laugh at him. “You’re nothing but a whore; we all know Ivar couldn’t possibly be the father of that thing that was growing inside you. He isn’t man enough.”
“Do not insult Ivar in front of me!”
“Why? Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit about a cripple.”
You grab hold of the knife next to you and aim it at Sigurd. The edge of the knife scrapes across the side of his face, cutting it in the process. When Sigurd goes to take a step towards you, Ubbe steps in between you and says, “No more; you’ve upset our sister enough for one day.”
Another reason Sigurd hates you is because his family accepts you as one of their own. Aslaug treated you like a daughter, and his brothers were very protective of you. They admired your loyalty to Ivar.
“I am counting down the days until my husband finally kills you!” You hiss.
Hearing a laugh, you turn your head back to see Ivar observing the scene with a smile on his face. He had managed to crawl so quietly that nobody noticed him sitting on the opposite side of the table from where you stood. He claps his hands in amusement and says, “Isn’t she fantastic? Beautiful and violent.” Ivar licks his lips before sitting back in the chair. “Now, let us begin to plan our next move.”
Ivar motions for you to come over to him; when you do, he guides you till you’re sitting atop his thighs, his arm wrapping around your back while your legs dangle over his. He kisses your cheek and says, “Good girl, your aim is getting better.”
Admittedly, you weren’t the best at welding a weapon or firing an arrow until Ivar decided to teach you. You whisper, “I still think I’ll need a few more one-on-one lessons.”
He smirks before turning his attention to his brothers, who seem unfazed by you sitting on his lap, all aside from Sigurd, whose glare is burning into you.
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mochinek0 · 5 months
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Family Secrets
Damian couldn't believe his eyes. He had seen pieces of that costume when he lived in the League, but never did he expect to see his mother, disguised, in Paris! He carefully kept an eye on her as she walked into a bakery. He felt his own breath hitch as a young girl came and hugged her.
"Nonna!" she cried.
'Grandmother?'
"Hello, My Leetle Fairy." his mother replied, hugging her back.
"Are you having fun on your travels?" the girl questioned, "Where did you go this time?"
"Egypt." his mother declared.
The girl smiled, "Did you see the pyramids?"
His mother brought out a keychain of a pyramid and handed it to the girl.
"It's great!" the girl smiled, "I'll keep it on my desk so when I see it, I can think of you."
"I wish you could come with me." the disguised Talia declared.
"Maybe when I'm older?" the young girl answered.
Talia tapped the young girl's nose, "Possibly, but we know very well how hard you work."
"Mom!" announced a man, who seemed the size of Bane, "How are you?"
Damian watched on in shock. He was aware that his mother was much older than she appeared. Hearing someone around his father's age, refer to his mother as a maternal figure was unsettling.
"I'm fine, Tom." she answered.
"Would you like to put your bag down and rest?" he asked.
"Nonsense." his mother replied, "I may look older, but I'm fine. I wanted to see if Marinetta would like to take a ride around the city with me."
"Yes!" the girl cried.
Damian watched as they both got on a motorcycle and drove off.
It took awhile, but Damian finally spotted them near the Seine, eating ice cream. The girl was looking down at something, in her lap. His mother's eyes connected with his and he knew he had made her.
"I'll be right back." Gina spoke, kissing Marinette on the head.
Gina walked in Damian's direction.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Do you plan to kidnap her, Mother?" Damian questioned.
"Of course not!" Gina snapped.
"Who is she?" he asked.
Talia sighed, "Your niece; she's your age."
"So the man who called you mother-"Damian began.
"Your grandfather wanted me out of the way. He was looking for a male successor to take over." Talia began to explain, "He kicked me out of the League, briefly, and I had some semblance of a normal life. I fell in love with a baker. Tom is our son, before I ever met your father. Essentially, he is your older brother."
She sighed, "Everyhting was fine and I was happy, until he sent someone to exterminate us. Before I killed him, I learned my death was a test. Kill me and become successor to the League. I returned with his head and threw it at your grandfather's feet. He looked at me and said he would allow me back on one condition."
"What was it?" Damian asked.
"I had to leave my family." she admitted, "I said I understood and would be back in three months. I knew he would never stop coming after us."
"Why three months?" her son questioned, "You were already there. Did they not know of the League?"
"Tom was getting married and no, my family knew nothing about the League. I returned and told my family I would be 'traveling in my old age'. A few years after he got married, I came back to a three year old granddaughter. Your grandfather found out and forbid my return."
"Grandfather is dead." Damian spoke.-changing subject
"I've been stopping in more." she declared, "They aren't like us. They're not like your father. They know nothing about my past, aside from divorcing a man, who made me happy. I tell them I'm traveling around the word. I wear a wig and makeup. At some point, I will have to stop visiting all together since anyone else will grow old and pass on. The League........you lose sense of time when there. Two years ago, I thought she was still three. She was turning fourteen."
"What about the man?" her son asked.
Talia smiled, "Reminds me of your grandfather, actually. He's all about 'traditions', so perhaps it was for the best."
"Nonna!" Marinette cried out.
"Please, Damian, leave them alone." his mother whispered.
Damian watched as his mother walked away. He had never known her to beg for something.
"My Leetle Fairy, are you ready to go back home?" Gina asked, "Do you have new inspiration for your designs? I can't wait to see the clothes you create this time."
Damian watched as the girl put her sketchbook away.
'Clothes? Designs?'
He smiled softly. She was an artist, like him. He watched as his mother got on the motorcycle with his niece. What surprised him was seeing his niece glare at him. Damian chuckled.
'Mother may not see it, but she is a lot like them. A little fairy.'
"Damian, a Fairy is someone who helps people who are lost in the dark. It's not always in a literal sense; it can be figurative."
The young Al-Ghul turned and walked in the opposite direction.
'Fairy is a suitable name for my niece. I wonder how Mother would feel learning her true nature? A Fae who lures in her prey.'
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homunculus-argument · 8 months
Text
I got diagnosed with ADHD when I was 27. Back when I was a kid, I was bad at school and literally did not voluntarily do my homework unprompted before I was like 14. Mom told me to tell my sister to help me, and she wouldn't because parenting me wasn't her job, and mom just figured that if my sister isn't going to do it, then nobody's going to. She just accepted that she has one kid who wants to do well at school, and one who doesn't.
I remember one time as an adult, I was talking with my mom, and told her that I sometimes wish she would have at least tried to push me into doing better at school, at least enough to notice that it's not normal that an 8-year-old would have to be dragged into doing homework kicking and screaming (sometimes literally), and maybe I would have been tested for it like 15 years earlier and I wouldn't have struggled with an undiagnosed brain issue my entire adult life until I understood I can't study even the things I want to do, and sought help on my own.
Mom just shrugged and said she's never seen the point of pushing children to do things they don't want, kids will turn out the way they want to turn out no matter what you do. I needed to make sure I understood her right, and asked her if she's really saying that she sees no point in even trying to raise children, because they'll raise themselves anyway. She nodded, satisfied that I had understood the core of her wisdom.
I didn't cut my family out of my life because of the way my childhood was, but how they treated me as an adult. The exact details of the prompting incident itself that was the final straw are irrelevant, but my mother was shocked and baffled of why I would do that. She didn't raise me to be someone who would just cut ties like that over insults that go unaknowledged and unapologised.
But I sure did.
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sh1-n0bu · 5 months
Note
can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??
✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿
characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader
warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…
notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea
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oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?
tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it
which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it
safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways
has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong
him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there
like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei
safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family
his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life
his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T
his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!
yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it
you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims
the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last
AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!
likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game
will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die
something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too
he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones
had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it
the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you
was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!
he aint fooling anyone
takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh
had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ
yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice
after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date
you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud
walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home
the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you
“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”
“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”
“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”
yeah… just say you love them already, scara
your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶
would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face
“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”
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lazycats-stuff · 5 months
Note
Can you do a teen reader (younger than Damian by 1 or 2 years) x batfam, where he is spider man? (I mean kinda like miles morales, he has electricity powers but his webs are organic too and doesn’t need a web shooters.) he is Bruce’s biological child and his mother died, yk his canon event and what not. So he has to move to Gotham and isn’t happy about. Just distant and all. One night He sneaked out and bought a train ticket and went to New York, and was only spider man and just slept in somewhere. So the batfamily tracked him to New York, and while looking for him, they bump into him as spider man. They have to team up to find a villian but reafer gets hurt in the end and his mask fell off and they see it’s reader? They bring him and just have a talk when he wakes up and they come to conclusion for him to join the family in their fighting in Gotham?
Oh, that sounds good. Yes... Also, 2.7k words and so sorry for taking so long to write this... Hope you enjoy. I changed it a little bit, so my apologies, but I got into my writing spirit lol.
Summary: (Y/N) is Spiderman. The fam doesn't know that.
Warnings: (Y/N)'s mom passes away, funeral, sad (Y/N), he loves his city, angst, running away, fighting with Green Goblin.
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(Y/N) had a great life in New York. He was very happy in his city. He lived with his mom and everything was fine. Okay, he did get bitten by a radioactive spider and got cool powers with it. Did it cause some troubles? Oh yeah. Electricity was a bit problematic to control, but he managed.
Did he get grounded because of it? His mom sure thought so. His dad visited with the rest of his brothers every month. (Y/N) understood why he couldn't come more. Being a CEO and all that stuff, (Y/N) really understood. He didn't love Bruce any less. Bruce was involved in his life, which was nice.
He loved his brothers and father, more than anything in this world. Alfred was the best though. Whenever he came, he would bring his food and (Y/N) and his mom would enjoy it too, often asking for recipes. Or they would exchange recipes.
All of those were very fun times. And his time as Spiderman. He really loved it. He loved patrolling and helping the people and maybe get a hot dog from the stands that worked through the night. He loved it all. It was nice that his webs were natural and they, like mentioned before, they also came with electricity.
His enemies hated him, but (Y/N) loved being Spiderman. He loved what he represented in New York and he wouldn't change it for anything in the world. He is a New Yorker through and through.
But life decided to be a bitch and strike that luck and happiness.
(Y/N)'s mom passed away. She was hit by a drunk driver. The worst thing is, the driver survived. When Bruce got the news, he got into the car and drove to New York. (Y/N) was told just before Bruce came and (Y/N) felt his soul shatter.
He broke down in Bruce's arms, crying and screaming. It took him a while to calm down, but he couldn't stay alone. Bruce knew that and he knew that going back to Gotham was not an option now. At all. Bruce called Alfred and explained everything and told him that he would stay to arrange the funeral.
Alfred understood and the brother called (Y/N), wishing that they could be there. (Y/N) thanked them for it and then sat up all night, unable to sleep. Bruce tried to comfort him in the best way possible, but it was difficult. Bruce's former fling, (Y/N)'s mom, was the most important person to (Y/N). Without a doubt.
Bruce knew that he would have to bury her in New York, otherwise his son would have raised hell. Without a doubt. After funeral, (Y/N) would have to move to Gotham. Which is another problem on its own. Bruce didn't know that (Y/N) was Spiderman and (Y/N) didn't know that Bruce was Batman.
Match made in hell, so to say.
The funeral was held a few days after the incident and (Y/N) thought that New York cried with him. The sky was dark and the rain was falling. (Y/N) was torn. There were way to many people who were saying sorry and while he appreciated the care and worry, he just wanted to say goodbye on his own.
His brothers have stood it with him. (Y/N) didn't even have the courage to be next to the grave, while they lowered it, but Bruce held him hand through it, keeping him close to him during the entire process.
At the end, he found some strength and came closer, allowing the rain to soak him. It felt appropriate. When she was lowered, (Y/N) threw a rose in there and wiped his eyes. He took a deep breath as they started putting dirt over her coffin and (Y/N) never felt so mad. Why did this happen to him? To him out of all people?!
Bruce recognized that look in (Y/N)'s eyes. He knew that rage, sadness and frustration in his eyes. It was going to be difficult to let go and have a new life in Gotham. But (Y/N) had to try. He had to put some effort.
" (Y/N), we have to go. " Bruce said gently as he shielded his son from the rain with an umbrella. (Y/N) kept looking as the coffin got buried under the dirt. He swallowed before nodding and following Bruce to the car.
" Why do I have to go to Gotham? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce sighed as he started driving.
" We have been over this. I have a company there and your brothers are there. I know you don't want to leave, I know that, but you have no choice. " Bruce explained as he drove and (Y/N) turned away from him, biting down on his tongue so that he wouldn't lash out against Bruce.
" I know you are not happy, but you will be happy in Gotham. "
" Sure. In a city ran by a clown and a bat. Sounds like heaven. " (Y/N) said sarcastically.
" It's actually a nice city once you live in it long enough. "
(Y/N) huffed, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to lash out at his father, he really didn't. His dad was doing something he needed and Bruce wasn't at fault.
It was the driver's fault.
But he was pissed and he just wanted to be alone. Bruce saw it and didn't say anything, driving back to Gotham. It was the most awkward drive Bruce has ever done in his life. The hour was quiet and once they parked in the yard of the manor, (Y/N) took a bag with his personal stuff, his Spiderman suit included, and made a beeline for his room.
He ran past everybody and they all looked at him with sad looks.
" Do you think he will be better soon? " Dick asked, glancing at Bruce.
" I don't know Dick. He is sensitive and he will need some time to process it. I don't think I can even introduce him to our line of work. He found justice, they got the driver. " Bruce said as he rubbed his chin and the boys had to agree to a certain agree.
" He just needs some time. The first few days are the toughest. He will get better as times passes. " Alfred said as he took one of the boxes out.
Those few days have passed and (Y/N) didn't really feel good. He didn't like the fact he is starting a new school year here, without his friends and a sense of familiarity. He would have to start a new, without... He cried a lot during the time and he just wore black. Alfred had to make sure he ate and Bruce was there to comfort him and make sure he is okay.
Another thing that was painful, alongside his mother's death was the fact that he couldn't be Spiderman. He couldn't go out, he couldn't save his fellow New Yorkers or chat with them. He saw the news talking about his absence and he wanted nothing more than to go back to New York.
Nothing more.
But... There is a problem called big brothers plus a dad.
They were always around, watching him. Always popping in his room to make sure he is okay and not hungry, knowing that eating wasn't easy. Everyone popped in to make sure he is okay. (Y/N) was sure they thought he would hurt himself somehow, but he wasn't doing that.
He would often sit down in his room, when he knew that his family was on patrol, he would take his suit out. He would watch the spider symbol, wishing he could be back in New York. Gotham was nothing compared to New York. New York was much better, still is better than this city. New York is alive, vibrant, full of colors.
And then you have Gotham.
But (Y/N) has had enough after 2 weeks. With a little bit sneaking around, he managed to buy a ticket, his suit underneath the normal clothes he was wearing. While his family was on patrol, he sneaked out and made his way to the station to leave. He was happy, but it was bitter sweet. It would remind him of the things he loved and yet... It would remind him of his mother.
He had actually had some money left for a few flowers to lay on her grave... (Y/N) put his head on the window, watching the scenery change. Left his phone at home so that they couldn't track him, so he spent his time looking out the window and stretching.
After a few hours, (Y/N) has arrived. He smiled as he saw his city. He took a deep breath in and walked around, just remembering the time in his city.
" My apologies New York. " (Y/N) mumbled as he started walking to the cemetery. It would be a long walk, but he had time. He really did. Once he came, the flower shop was open and he has paid with cash, making it difficult to track him. After getting a beautiful bouquet he walked to his mom's grave. He put them down and smiled...
Bittersweet beyond belief.
He kept knelt down on one knee, smiling at the gravestone. He smiled and wiped some of his tears away, not wanting to cry.
" Hey mom. I'm back. Dad wanted me to move, but I think I will stay here. " (Y/N) said as he got up and started walking to his apartment. He missed it, he really did. He could only hope that it's unlocked, but his neighbor had an extra key. He knew it.
And she loved him.
While (Y/N) was happy, the family wasn't really paying attention whether or not (Y/N) was in his room. They were thinking that he has slept. They couldn't have been more wrong about it. (Y/N) already had a whole night ahead of him as an advantage.
Alfred went to check and a few minutes later and he called out for Bruce in a panic. Everyone dropped the cutlery and ran upstairs to see if their butler was safe. Jason and Tim nearly tumbled over one another more than once. Damian jumped in first, ready to fight with the non existent intruder.
They were all shocked to see that there was no intruder. Another problem? There was no (Y/N). Jason checked the bathroom.
" Not in here. " He declared, closing the door.
Bruce wondered what the hell happened. Oh no. Where is he?
" Did anyone see him? " Bruce asked his sons, leaning on the wall.
" No... I thought he was in here. " Tim said as he looked out the window. " Where is he even? " Tim wondered. Bruce pondered for a moment.
" Lets go to the cave and check the cameras. " Bruce said as he pushed himself off of the wall. Everyone followed and soon, they were looking through the cameras.
They all paled when they saw that he went to the city. Bruce pulled all of the cameras he could and thanked God for facial recognition. He pulled it all to find (Y/N).
" Why did he escape? " Dick wondered out aloud. Was it the fact that they were checking on him too much? Was he smothered? Did they smother him?
" Shit. " Jason said next to Bruce as the two watched the screen. Everyone turned their heads to look at the screen. A train station. Bruce connected it.
" He went to New York. " Bruce said as he tracked (Y/N)'s phone.
" What the hell? " Tim wondered out loud.
Everyone frowned when the location turned out to be the manor. Everyone was now worried.
" He has to be in New York. He has to be. " Damian declared and everyone had to agree with it. They knew that (Y/N) coming here wasn't his choice and that he wanted to stay back in New York. Bruce couldn't blame (Y/N) for any of it, nobody could blame (Y/N) for trying to run to New York.
" He has an entire night as an advantage. " Damian said and everyone has agreed with him. That is one hell of an advantage.
" I'm not sure whether or not to be proud. " Bruce said, trying not to smile.
" A mixture of both. He passed the security. " Jason mumbled and Bruce chuckled.
" Yeah, I have to be a mixture of both. Lets do some more investigating and then lets go to New York at night. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.
(Y/N) has had fun during the day, but it seems that Green Goblin wasn't happy with the fact that he was gone out of their city. The fight has been going on for a while and (Y/N) was slowly getting exhausted. Ever so slowly.
(Y/N) knew that he couldn't lose his cool now. That's something that Green Goblin wanted him to do this entire fight. Green Goblin was taunting him and by God, (Y/N) was ready to kill. His wrists were hurting like never before.
He was ready to strike once more when he saw a familiar face. His dad and his brothers. Oh God. Were they all looking for him. They landed near him and (Y/N) swore that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He really thought so.
" Hey Spidey, you need help? " Dick, well, Nightwing asked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders. " Could use some backup. " (Y/N) said, voice breathy.
" Arch nemesis? " Damian, well, Robin asked.
" Yup. "
" Sounds tough. " Dick said and (Y/N) got ready to strike once more. He saw an opening and took it.
(Y/N) was struck and he flew back onto the rooftop and something fell of as he landed. He couldn't pinpoint it, but every part of him screamed that something was wrong. He froze when he saw his father, covering them both with his big cape.
" (Y/N), why didn't you tell us? Is this why you didn't want to leave? " Bruce asked, glancing at his son, trying to see if he was injured.
" I... I didn't know how to... " (Y/N) admitted shyly, looking away from his dad.
" I'm not blaming you. But we have to talk about this later. We can't just leave it like this. Put on your mask and lets finish this. " Bruce said with a firm voice and (Y/N) nodded as he did so and with the help from Bruce, got up.
" Lets get the bastard. " (Y/N) said with so much determination and Bruce smiled proudly. He really is his son with that much determination.
The fight was tiring beyond belief, but the Batfamily was determined and persistent. And Green Goblin wasn't expecting the back up that (Y/N) has gotten out of nowhere. Soon, Green Goblin was taken into custody. Now it was all good. All good.
If you remember that (Y/N)'s family was still there, waiting to talk to him. He didn't really want to talk, he just wanted to avoid it. He didn't want to. By God, he wanted to go to sleep. But he knew that talk would happen eventually.
" Now, " Bruce started as he glanced at everyone. " I'm not mad you, but... You could have told us. We told you. " (Y/N) tried to say something, but Bruce stopped him. " Now, what happened happened. However, you can use your talents back in Gotham. "
(Y/N) shifted on his feet, nervous about it.
" No need to worry (Y/N). " Jason started, hands on his hips. " NYPD is more capable than GCPD. "
Everyone laughed at it. To some extent it's true, but (Y/N) wasn't convinced.
" You don't have to lose your Spider symbol. You can keep being Spiderman. You can be a spider and the rest can be birds. " Bruce said as he put his hand on (Y/N) shoulder.
" It's difficult to leave my city behind. " (Y/N) admitted and Bruce nodded in sympathy. The brothers hugged their brother, hugging him tightly.
They all were saying something, but (Y/N) couldn't understand. But he knew that they were all saying something positive.
" Now, lets go home and get you situated. " Bruce said and (Y/N) just looked at the sun.
" It weird to see you guys in this time of the day. " (Y/N) mumbled as he was led to the Batmobile. Everyone laughed at that. It was true. He really didn't want to leave New York city, but he knew that he could help them in Gotham.
He knew it would work out in the end.
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gucciwins · 6 months
Text
birthday blues
Y/N doesn't celebrate her birthday. Harry wants to change that.
Word count: 9381
A/N: it's my birthday! and I thought you deserved something nice. I feel sometimes birthday can be very up and down. somehow tears come by every year. I always wanted to write a birthday story and what better day to post it than on my birthday.
warnings: mentions of a parent death
happy reading!
+
365 days
That’s how long it took the sun to rotate the earth. That was also how many days it took for Y/N to turn a year older. 
Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with family and friends. Where they shower someone with gifts cake but mostly love. It’s something Y/N hasn’t felt since she was young. Her mother made sure Y/N was reminded that the sun shined bright for her. She made all her dreams come true until she couldn’t. Y/N lost her mother, Isla, to cancer. She fought a long battle, but it seemed losing her mother meant losing her father as he lost the love of his life. Her older brother, already close to eighteen, understood loss but didn’t realize how grief could change a person because as soon as Caleb turned eighteen, he was gone. Only calling during the holidays but never coming home. 
Y/N saw how others were celebrated on their birthdays as she grew up, from being invited to birthday parties to the grand gifts they would receive, primarily knowing that her friends had someone show up for them. That never happened for Y/N. 
She moved away from home for university, and there was no argument from her father. She began her life where she hoped to create a family of her own, and with time, she had. Y/N never believed in having a large group of friends, but wherever she went, she made a friend along the way. 
Aurora is Y/N’s best friend. She met her at a book club, their local bookstore hosts. Y/N complimented her fiery red hair; Aurora took one hard look at Y/N and claimed they would be best friends. Y/N brushed her off instead asking her out for coffee, and well, it seemed Aurora was right. She always is Y/N had come to learn. 
With Aurora in her life came new friends; she was invited to dinner parties, coffee days, and to join in on mundane errand days. Y/N had never felt so invited and loved by her friends, but she made sure to give it right back. When it was Suki’s birthday, Y/N knew she wanted an ice skating day with all their friends but could never convince everyone to go; well, Y/N turned on the charm, and off they went. At Edward’s graduation party, she brought his favorite cake from the bakery across town. For Tina, she found a vintage sweater she had been searching for since she was seventeen and learned who Vivienne Westwood was. Y/N was the friend who went above and beyond for everyone because she knew they deserved it.
Year after year, they would ask Y/N to celebrate her birthday or accomplishments, but Y/N always promised them she didn’t like celebrating her birthday. After two years, her friends decided not to fight it and respected her wishes. She’d start her day the same way each year: head to Heart Coffee to buy a croissant and an oat milk vanilla latte. She’d head to the park, where she’d sit by the lake, seeing all the people run by. Then she’d cook herself a small meal and stay home to watch her favorite show (Parks and Rec). It’s a simple plan, one she liked and her friends respected. Her friends would get her gifts, sometimes books, kitchen supplies, or even the sweater she had been eyeing and saving up for, but that’s as much as she allowed to be celebrated. 
Then Harry came into her life. 
Aurora was having a bonfire to celebrate the start of Summer. Y/N loved the beach, searching for shells, and mostly, being in the water. Y/N had offered to help set up because she wanted to maximize her time in the water. Her mum always told her she was born a mermaid in another life for how much she loved water. Y/N spent her time in the water, and once she felt the sun begin to set (Aurora yelled for her to come in), she took a final dive and dashed to her car to change into warmer clothes. As she was closing her car’s trunk, Y/N bumped into someone. She quickly apologized, knowing she was in a hurry to return to her friends because she was hungry. 
“My fault,” a strong voice responded. 
It sent chills down her back. She looked up to meet his eyes and found mossy green eyes staring at her. “Sorry,” she apologized again. “I’ve got to go.” Y/N pointed behind her to signify she had people waiting for her, and before he could stop her, she ran off. 
Y/N tried to brush away his pretty face, but her brain seemed frozen. She’d never seen someone so pretty. He had curls peeking out behind his hood, and his long eyelashes were something she’d forever be jealous of while she’d dream of what his pink lips might taste like. Y/N, with a drink in her hand, allowed herself to escape to her thoughts. 
“Babes, you’ve got a pretty tan going,” Aurora commented as Y/N set her bag down.
Y/N felt her face warm, knowing tomorrow she’d be more burnt than she liked, but being in the water was worth it. 
“So the mermaid has legs,” Frannie teases Y/N as she sits in the sand. 
“So it seems. Got any gummy worms?” Y/N plays along, knowing her friend would understand the significance of the candy from one of their favorite movies.   
There was a lot of chatter going around. She patted Frannie’s thigh, telling her she was getting another drink, but before she could do that, Tobias, Aurora’s boyfriend of two years, called for her. 
“Y/NNNNN!” She giggled because it was clear he was a few drinks in. “My sweet baby, I want to introduce you to my friends. We’re in a band.” 
“Were.” A man with an Irish accent answers. 
“Shush, Niall. Y/N loves musicians.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “only if they play the piano,” she corrects. 
She turned to look at the people Tobias wanted to introduce her to, and she took a deep breath when she recognized the guy with the gray hood, a smirk on his face.
“Right, whatever. My good mates from left to right are Niall, Sarah, Devon, and Harry. Mitch is off getting drinks. He’s the dude with really long hair. You’ll see him,” Tobias assures her. “Now, this is my best mate Y/N.” Y/N giggles. “Don’t tell Aurora, she’ll fight anyone who calls Y/N her, and I quote “bestie.””
Y/N hums in agreement. “It’s lovely to meet you all.” She shakes their hand in greeting. She saved Harry for last. Y/N tries to hide she’s looking at his long fingers, but when she looks at Harry, he’s staring at her with a wide smile. 
“Piano hands.” 
Y/N feels her face flush because he’s referring to the comment she made a few minutes ago. She takes a step back and excuses herself. “Off to get a drink. It was lovely to meet you all.” 
Harry steps forward as if to follow her, but Tobias stops him with a shake of his head. Always protective. She looks over her shoulder and finds Harry already staring at her. She laughs to herself. Maybe she’ll get the courage to talk to him after two more drinks. 
One drink later, Y/N was watching the waves crash in when she heard someone coming closer. She thought it was Aurora who was escaping the loud music for a moment, so she patted the seat next to her, but to her surprise, it was Harry. 
“Hi,” she greeted softly. 
“Hi, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her. “You’re hard to get alone.”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “That’s Mum and Dad for you.” 
“They’re protective of everyone like that?” He asks.
“Yes, but more so me.”
“Is it because you’re too sweet?” Harry asks curiously.
“Or to mean,” she counters. 
Harry laughs, “I doubt that.” 
Y/N turns her body to look at him, squinting her eyes suspiciously. “You don’t know me.” 
He shrugs, “I don’t, but you shook my hand when we met. Don’t think that’s happened in such an informal setting.”
Shit. 
Y/N lets his words sink in. So it was weird to shake hands, but her mum always taught her to be polite, and she'd shake their hand if she couldn’t be a hugger. Were handshakes weird? Did that mean Harry thought she was strange? Well, there goes her chance with him.
“Y/N, Sweets? Where’d you go?” Harry calls for her attention, seeing her lost in her head. “I’m that boring, huh?”
She’s quick to shake her head. “Sorry. That was so rude of me.” 
“Only teasing.” 
“Don’t like the party?” Y/N gestured behind them, knowing that was much better than sitting with her. 
Harry scoots his hand closer to hers, only an inch apart the slightest movement, and they’d be touching. “I meant it when I said you’re hard to get alone. Aurora asked me fifty different questions, and one was about my car insurance.” 
Aurora was odd, but she always had her best interests in mind. 
“Think she’s scared I might get taken away from her.”
“She did say something about 60/40.” 
Y/N lets her head fall into her lap, “that’s embarrassing.” 
“Take it everyone’s sweet on you, Sweets.” 
Y/N feels herself melt at the moniker. Harry is too charming for her, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a chance.
“Are you?” 
Harry takes it in stride. “Definitely.”
“Hmm…”
Harry takes her silence as rejection. “Take it, it’s not mutual?” 
“I’m afraid you never asked me a question.” She feigns innocence. 
Harry grins, “would you like to go on a date with me?” Y/N stays silent. “How’s that for a question?” 
Y/N stands up, brushes away the sand, and offers her hand to Harry. He takes it, careful to not pull her off balance. “Yes.” 
She walks back to her friends, leaving behind a stunned Harry. 
“Did you say yes?” He yells, hurrying to catch up. 
“I did.” 
“Why?” 
Y/N laughs, confused. “Was I supposed to say no?”
“Tobias assured me you would say no, so I thought no harm in trying.”
Y/N steps close to Harry, removing any space they head between each other. “Listen here, Harry. As much as I love Tobias, he doesn’t speak for me. So, if you ever have a question for me, just ask.”
Harry nods. 
“Good. Now I’d love a s’more, care to join me?” 
Harry, enamored by Y/N, is quick to agree.
He spent the remainder of the night glued to Y/N’s side. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to know everything about her, from her birthday to her favorite number. She asked him about the pets he had growing up and who his three favorite female artists were. Y/N told Harry his answer could change her response to their upcoming date. Harry named Stevie Nicks, Kacey Musgraves, and Megan Thee Stallion. Y/N told him she approved. He sighed in relief, telling her that his heart was close to beating out of his chest. 
Harry’s friends began to pack up to leave, but he noticed Y/N didn’t, so he stayed put Y/N tucked against his side and said it was time for him to go, sensing all the looking Harry’s friends were directing at him and he was ignoring.  
“Don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’ve got my friends, Harry. I was fine before you and will be fine once you leave.” 
Harry frowned, “fine isn’t good enough.” 
“You’re a tough cookie.” 
Harry makes no move to get up.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
He perks up, “I’m listening.”
“You text me when you make it home.” Harry nods eagerly. “I’ll text you when I make it home. If you’re awake, I’ll let you call me to wish me goodnight.” 
“I’ll be awake,” he promises.
Y/N doesn’t know how true that is, but it does get him to finally follow his tired friends to their car. She watches him walk away when Aurora comes up behind, resting her head on Y/N’s shoulder. 
“Tobias bet me $50 bucks he could keep Harry away from you.” 
“What did you do, Rora?” 
“I offered him a blowie if he let you be,” Aurora laughed, “I saw the sparkle in your eye. Don’t love him more than me is all I ask.” 
Y/N giggles, “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Good. I told him 60/40, but 70/30 is a better deal for me.”
Y/N felt like throwing up. She changed her outfit three times, restyled her hair twice, and messed up her eyeliner for the first time in months. Her date with Harry was tonight, and while she had a massive crush on him, her nerves were getting the better of her. 
Before she could change her outfit another time, her phone rang, notifying her of a knock on her door. The security camera she had installed was a significant help. She pulled up the app on her phone and saw Harry wearing a black knitted sweater with two swans kissing. A bouquet of flowers in his hand. He kept pacing the front door, and Y/N felt settled, knowing he was nervous, too. 
First dates can be awkward, and small talk is boring, but as soon as she opens the front door, Y/N knows it’s different. Harry shows her a bright smile, telling her how beautiful she looks. Y/N lets Harry open her car door; for dinner, Harry decides to take her to his favorite Italian restaurant. It’s ten minutes from the beach. It’s a family-owned establishment where all the dishes are made from scratch. Harry promised Mama D’s offers a pink sauce that’s to die for. Y/N let Harry order for her, and she was not sorry; the food was delicious. She knew she would return, but that wasn’t the best part. No, it was spending time with Harry. 
She learned how smart he was. He is constantly reading a new book, whether poetry or history books; he always has his hand on something new. Y/N proudly told him she loved her romance books, that she had only recently begun to get into fantasy, but that her favorite series growing up was “The Hunger Games.” She went on a slight tangent explaining what the books meant to her and how, from time to time, she would pick it up to read it all over again. When she realized she had probably said too much, Y/N felt her face burning and wouldn’t dare to meet Harry’s stare.
“Sorry,” she apologized. 
Harry shakes his head, “no, don’t do that.”
“What?” Y/N asks confused. 
“Apologize for what you’re passionate about. It’s a part of you; don’t make it seem insignificant,” his words settled deep in her heart. “I could write you a ten-page essay on why The Notebook is one of the best romance movies to exist.” 
“With citations included?” Y/N teased, easing the tension she was holding. 
“Well, of course,” Harry plays into her banter. 
It’s clear by the end of the date that Y/N is head over heels for Harry, and the feeling is mutual. Harry sat across from Y/N at the start of the meal, but after their dinner and a glass of wine, he slipped into the seat next to her. He played with her fingers that rested on the table, his entire body turned to her, giving her his undivided attention. Y/N and Harry stayed at the restaurant until they closed. Their waiter, Devin, told them he didn’t want to rush them, but they did need to clean up the outside patio. Harry knew it was time to go but didn’t want the night to end. 
“Fancy a walk?” Harry asked Y/N as they stood by the car, pointing toward the beach where she could hear the waves crashing on the shore.
“Lead the way.”
Harry reached for Y/N’s hand, but Y/N was the one to intertwine their fingers, keeping a tight grip on him. Harry gave her a squeeze to assure her he liked it. The moon shone down on them as they walked towards the calm waves. They walked in silence; there was no need to fill the void with talk. Simply being together was enough for them. 
He was aware this was a first date. Yet, Harry knew what he was feeling was something he would never experience again, entirely because of Y/N. 
“Harry?” 
“Yes, Sweets.” 
“Can I confess something to you?” 
Harry stops walking, hearing the tremble in her voice. “Hey, of course you can. Anything you want.” 
“Well,” she takes a deep breath. “When we met, I thought you might be a little cocky because you have this larger-than-life personality, but truthfully, you're the sweetest person I have ever met.” 
Harry feels his cheeks turn red. He did not see this coming. “Sweets, you mean that?” 
“I do. You make me feel safe and cared for. I-I know we don’t know each other too well, but I would like to keep seeing you if you’re interested,” she whispers the final word as if all her confidence was sucked away. 
“Y/N, look at me.” She lifts her gaze to meet his. Y/N can see how bright his eyes are with the moon's light. “I would love to keep going on dates with you. You called me sweet, but Y/N, you’re the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person I have met in all my years of life. I’d love to keep spending time with you even if it was simply to go grocery shopping.” 
“Good,” she whispers. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 
“Come one, Sweets. The night is still young.” 
Harry and Y/N spent the remainder of the night sitting on the cold sand, telling each other everything they could think of because while neither would say it out loud, they knew they had met their soulmate.
+
Y/N loved playing dress-up. She loved exploring her fashion, knowing she’d get suitable and horrible outfits, but each one would be a story for her to tell. Y/N loved going to flea markets on the weekends and went to her favorite thrift store every time the kind worker shot her a text, there was a large donation that came in. Her mother once took her to an estate sale, and Y/N got to see pieces of someone else’s story. Y/N loved visiting the homes but also because she got to find some of the most insane items. Y/N had found a vintage baby pink Chanel sweater and a never-worn pearl necklace. It was her most precious piece of jewelry. 
When Harry learned that Y/N loved going to vintage and second-hand stores, he planned a date night to take her to all the hidden spots his mother had shown him. It had been a few weeks of dates, Y/N and Harry being exclusive, enjoying their time together. Harry had planned a few dates, but so had Y/N. With final exams looming close, he wanted to make sure that Y/N knew that spending time with her was his priority, so he wanted to take her to one of her favorite activities. 
Harry had specific tastes, loving to wear vintage shirts, sometimes paying too much for one he couldn’t live without. Harry loved being able to share this passion with Y/N but mostly enjoyed spending time with her. He understood they both had schoolwork and needed to make time to study, but Y/N was great at making time to see him, so he decided he could do the same. She stopped by for breakfast after her morning pilates class. Harry would send her flowers to arrive at her office. It was a simple gesture, but Y/N appreciated it each time.
“Did you know Dee can’t stand Prim?” Y/N tells Harry as she looks through the rack of skirts, trying to find a velvet skirt. 
Harry frowned. “Prim the cat?” 
“Mhmm…the very one. Says she’s demonic or something,” Y/N shrugs.
“Prim is the sweetest little baby. Always curl up in your lap for a nap.”
Y/N looks back at him with a big smile, recalling the memory of them over at Sasha’s house for game night. Harry sat to her right as they watched Frannie and Brandon try to beat their score in charades when the small black cat came right over to her with a tiny meow and settled in her lap. Y/N ran her hand through Prim’s black coat, coxing her right to sleep. Harry made sure to capture photos for her. Even made it his new lock screen.
“Yeah, told Dee she probably needs to bring Prim a snack to befriend her.” 
Y/N pulled out a black skirt; she looked it over, trying to decide if she wanted it, when Harry spotted something over her shoulder. It was a maroon velvet skirt with a split on the leg, and he knew it was exactly what she was looking for. 
“How about this?” 
She turned around to see Harry holding up a skirt. It looked in perfect condition, not a tear in sight. “What if it doesn’t fit?” 
“We can always alter it. I’m amazing with a sewing machine,” Harry shares. 
Y/N grabs it from him, adding it to the pile of clothes she’s already holding in one arm. “Fine, I’ve been convinced.” She giggles, knowing she would have taken it no matter what because Harry was the one who found it for her. 
“Did you find that knitted cardigan here?” Y/N asks him, exiting the shop, the bag of clothes in Harry’s hand as he uses his other hand to hold hers. 
“No, my Nan made it.” 
Y/N’s eyes gleam in excitement. “That’s amazing. Did she teach you?” 
Harry laughs. “No, I'm really bad with needles. Nan says I’ve got too big of hands.” 
Y/N lifts their intertwined hands, looking down at his black nail polish contrasting her red. “I think you’ve got perfect hands.” 
Harry kisses her temple. “Thank you, sweets. Are you up for a coffee?”
“And a croissant?” She asks excitedly. 
“Well, of course. Only the best for you.” Harry pulls her close and leads them to a coffee shop up the street. 
Harry knows he’s never been happier. He’s glad to have Y/N in his life.
+
Y/N had spent the summer falling in love. Harry had been the perfect gentleman. She had never met someone as kind as him, and when he asked her to be his girlfriend, there was only one clear answer. 
Yes.
She held back from screaming it. Her excitement was hard to hide, but thankfully, so was Harry’s. They spent that night back at Y/N’s apartment kissing. Harry had the sweetest lips, and Y/N always wanted more after one taste. He brought warmth into her life, which she would always be thankful for. 
Now, in Autumn, she spent her time with her studying, going on dates, and sharing lots of kisses. Y/N got to meet Harry’s family: his mother, who has a big love for cats; his older sister, who’s a lawyer and the best baker to ever exist; and his step-father, who is heaven-sent. Y/N shared she was nervous to meet them all because of how much Harry talked about them, but he assured her they’d love her. 
They settled on brunch together, which went as well as Harry expected. Y/N shared what she was studying, where she was from, and how sweet Harry was raised. His mother, Elise, was over the moon with her kind words. When Y/N excused herself to the restroom, his mum could not stop gushing about how perfect Y/N was for him. His sister, Aaliyah, was more challenging to win over. She seemed to think she could read everyone perfectly. It was her job as a lawyer, but sometimes Harry wanted her to simply be his sister. Y/N spent the breakfast sharing stories asking about Harry growing up. His stepfather shared his favorite memories of Harry growing up. How Aaliyah tried to always sell Harry away or ship him off in a box. It never worked, but she tried so hard.
It took a slight turn when the conversation shifted to Y/N’s family. “Has Harry met your family?” Aaliyah asked. 
Y/N felt her hands begin to sweat, and as if he could sense her nerves, Harry reached down and intertwined her hand with his, letting them rest on her lap. 
“No, uh, he hasn’t.” 
Aaliyah frowned, “Now that doesn’t seem right. Are you ashamed of him?” 
Y/N jumps back as if she had just been slapped. She knew his sister cared for him, but being accused of being ashamed of Harry was not something she ever wanted to happen. Y/N took a deep breath and decided to share the deepest parts of herself with Harry’s family, something she did not like to talk about and only mentioned to Harry, never giving him the whole story. 
“My mum Isla passed away when I was ten. She was my hero and my biggest supporter. It’s not something you ever really heal from; grief lessens, but you’ll always miss them.” Y/N wanted to look away. The look of pity on their face was not something she wanted. “My—my dad loved my mum. He always said she was his other half, and well…when he lost her, it’s like we lost him too. My older brother is eight years older than me. So when my mum passed away, he was getting ready to leave for university. Once he left, he never came back. He calls on the occasional holiday but loves life in America.” Y/N is surprised she’s not crying yet but pushes on. “It’s hard living in a house when you’re the one who essentially raised yourself. Dad worked, came home and mourned, then went back to work. An endless cycle. I had family members try to help him, but they knew it would be better if I left.” Y/N could feel her hands shaking and her knee continuously bouncing, but she did it; she made it through her story. “Sorry if that was an overshare.” Y/N excuses herself, needing a minute. 
She walks out front, and that’s when her tears fall. 
“For fucks sake,” she groans, knowing tear stains are hard to hide. 
“Y/N,” Harry calls for her softly. “Are you okay?” 
Harry. Her sweet angel. Y/N’s sure her mum put him on her path because her love for him is something she’s never felt before, but it makes her feel whole. Y/N lets herself collapse in his arms, no longer caring about her tears. 
“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “They must think I’m a mess.” 
“Hey,” he says softly. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.” 
“It’s true,” she defends. 
Harry lifts her head to have him look at her. “You don’t have to be perfect or have to have your life together. You just need to remember you’re not alone. You’ve got so many people that l–adore you.” 
Y/N takes a moment to let it all sink in. Harry’s right. She’s simply overwhelmed and thankful to have him here. 
“Is your family upset with me?”
“Not at all, baby,” he assures her. “I think Mum was reprimanding Aaliyah, actually.”
Y/N laughs at his excitement, “let's go back.” 
“Are you sure?” He checks one final time.
“Mhm. Do you think your mum will share photos of you?” 
“Only one way to find out,” Y/N let him lead the way as she felt her heart calm down, knowing she was in safe hands.
+
Y/N could not be prouder of Harry. He had passed all his exams with flying colors (Y/N did, too), all while getting promoted at work. It was a campus job that paid decently. He did it for the scholarship offered but had come to love his role in helping other students. Y/N had done well, too, but that didn’t matter to her, not when she wanted to celebrate Harry. She planned a special night out for him with all of their friends. Harry loved a good party, and she wanted to give him precisely that. She had told him to prepare for the night, claiming it was a surprise. 
Harry didn’t think much, knowing her surprise ranged from a bouquet of flowers to getting dessert and the occasional new clothing she found for him. He didn't know what to expect tonight because when she showed up at his apartment in a little black dress, he was close to pulling her into his apartment and not letting her go. As good as that dress looked on Y/N, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor. Harry noticed Y/N’s excitement and knew he couldn’t keep her locked up, but it did not stop him from pushing her up against the wall and happily messing up her lipstick. 
Once he noticed it was getting hard to control himself when he pulled away. “Look beautiful, sweets.” 
Y/N giggled, pressing a kiss to his stained lips. “Thank you.”
“Should we head out?” Harry asked, grabbing his coat and helping Y/N slip hers on. 
“Mhm…”
The car ride was short, driving close to the university. He noticed they were outside the bar they come to for karaoke some nights. He loves belting out an Adele song from time to time. Y/N hurried out the door, her excitement unable to be contained. Y/N waited at the door for him, her hand outstretched for him to take. He kissed her wrist and gestured for her to go on. 
Walking in, everything looked normal. People were sitting around at the tables, not a seat in sight at the bar. Y/N offered Grady, their favorite bartender, a wave. The crowd parted for Y/N as if she were an angel walking by. He was always mesmerized by how her presence caught the attention of everyone around her. 
Y/N led them to the back room, which was reserved for large parties. Harry was confused; she had said the surprise was for him, but it didn’t make sense when there was nothing to celebrate. His birthday wasn’t until February, and she knew that. Made a clear point to add it to her calendar as Harry Styles’ Birthday with a yellow heart next to it. A simple gesture that made his heart skip a beat. When they entered the room, Harry noticed all their friends gathered around. Mitch was laughing with Niall while Sarah approached them with three drinks in hand. She quickly passed Harry a vodka cranberry while Y/N got Sprite. 
“Your girl sure knows how to throw a party,” Sarah raises her glass in a cheer. 
“I-I.” Harry has no words. 
Sarah laughs. “Did you really not know? I thought she would have told you. Y/N was so excited she thought she might burst,” she teased. 
Y/N smiles, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s for everyone,” Y/N reminds her. 
Sarah clicks her tongue. “You said, and I quote, ‘Harry aced every exam. He had the highest grade in each class. It deserves to be celebrated.’ Or am I wrong?” 
Y/N feels her face heat up because Sarah’s words are true. She said it because it was true. He deserves all his accomplishments to be celebrated, from acing an exam to turning in an exam. Uni isn’t always fun; if she can make good days for him, she feels like she did something good for someone she loves. 
Harry excuses them, pulling them to the corner of the room. A few people try to get his attention, but he’s on a mission to get his girl alone. Harry corners her, his emerald eyes locked with her soft eyes. “You’re an angel,” he whispers. “What did I do to deserve you?” 
Y/N has no answer because she feels the same way. “I feel the same way.” 
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he gestures around them. 
She nods, “I wanted to. You deserve to be celebrated.” 
Harry can no longer hold back. He connects his lips with hers. His hands settle on her waist while Y/N fists the front of his shirt. The passion was burning him; he craved the feeling. Y/N was lost in the feeling that she had forgotten they were in a room with their friends. She jumps back when she hears a loud holler and a yell of Harry’s name. Y/N lets her head fall on his chest, her cheeks burning while Harry tries to coax her to look at him. 
“Y/N, love. You’re amazing.” 
A large smile splits on her face; before Harry can kiss it away, Y/N holds his hand and pulls him to the dance floor, their drinks long forgotten.
“Let’s celebrate, baby!” Y/N shouts, laughing as Harry twirls her into him. Her laugh rings loud, and Harry knows she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. As Y/N dances in front of him, one thought rings loud in his head. 
He is completely and utterly in love with Y/N. 
+
Y/N didn’t enjoy her birthday, but it didn’t mean she didn’t celebrate her friend's special day. Frannie loved spending time with her friends, so with the help from Aurora, they planned a dinner party at Aurora’s shared apartment. They set up two long folding tables with chairs and pushed the couches back for extra space. Y/N decorated the apartment with streamers, balloons, and banners with the help of Harry, who got on the ladder for her when she couldn’t reach something. 
The dinner was set for 5pm. Thankfully, Frannie’s birthday landed on a Saturday, so everyone will be free from uni for the week. Y/N had place cards made for everyone. Harry even had a little heart next to his name. He would be sitting right next to Y/N, with Mitch to his left. They were his two favorite people because while he was good at having Y/N’s attention, it seemed when she was in a large group of people, she always became the life of the party.  
At 4:30, everyone began to arrive one by one. Aurora was set to get there at 5 with Frannie. They had told Frannie it would only be dinner with the three of them, but she was in for a big surprise. The door opened at 5:01, and everyone screamed, “Surprise!” 
Frannie dropped the flowers she was holding in shock. 
“You did this!” Frannie pointed at Y/N, who was leaning against Harry’s chest. 
Y/N brushes her off, “it was all of us.”
Harry knew she didn’t like all the attention, yet Y/N always went out of her way to show everyone how much she loved and appreciated them. It made him wonder how her friends would celebrate Y/N this year. He knows he tried but sometimes never can’t measure up. He loves buying her flowers, always treats her to coffee, and gives her kisses tenfold because he knows it makes her smile. 
He sees Frannie, gives her a tight hug, then settles down at the head of the table. Harry likes how easy conversation falls around him. He talks about a new album that recently came out with Mitch. Y/N jumps in, saying the closing song is her favorite. Sarah shared how the campus job is giving her 40 percent off on all merchandise, so send her a list of what they want. 
Y/N rests her hand on Harry’s thigh as she slips into conversation with Aurora and Brandon, talking about the lab Aurora did earlier in the week. Y/N jumps in every few minutes to show she’s listening. Harry selfishly wants to pull her away, wanting her attention back on him. 
Harry traces random shapes on her hand, letting Mitch talk his ear off as he picks at Y/N’s chipped nails. He makes a mental note of painting them for her tomorrow. 
“I love you, Harry,” she whispers in his ear. A soft kiss is placed on his cheek as she goes to pull away. Harry reaches out and sets her in his lap, not caring that all their friends are watching.
“Say it again,” he begs in a husky voice.
“You've heard me say it before,” she giggled, thinking about their midnight walk when Harry confessed under the stars how he had fallen in love with her. Y/N kissed him, not needing him to beg her to say she loved him. She’d say it over and over again for as long as he asked. “I love you” had become his favorite phrase. 
Y/N sits in his lap for a while; Harry knows she’s tired and close to falling asleep as he feels her settle deeper in his lap. She jolts up when Aurora asks for help with the main dish. Y/N kisses his lips, promising to be back quickly. Being at the apartment all day getting everything ready took a toll on her, and he knew that after eating, she would want to sleep for a long time, but Y/N would not leave because she would see it as rude. Harry composes an idea as dinner continues. 
The meal is enjoyed, and he has the perfect idea when dessert is passed around. He feigns a yawn, making sure Y/N is watching him. He apologizes, giving her a brief kiss. 
“Do you wanna go, H?” Y/N asks. “I know we’ve been here all day.” 
He shakes his head, “no, you can stay.” 
Y/N frowns, not liking that option at all. Harry has been staying over lately, and she’s gotten used to him in her bed. She debates on what to do because she knows cleaning up will be a bitch and would hate to leave it all to Aurora. Sarah notices her mood change and asks her what’s wrong.
“You alright?” 
“Ready to call it a night, but worried about the mess,” Y/N looks around mentally, trying to see what she can throw out and save. 
Sarah waves her off, “go home, babes.” 
“But–”
“Nope. We’ve got this. You set up, we take down,” Sarah tells her like it’s obvious. 
Y/N reaches forward, tugging her friend in for a hug. “You’re the best.” 
Y/N begins to make her rounds, bidding goodnight, sharing her fair of I love you before landing at Harry’s side, her hand in his. Harry quietly thanks Sarah and walks out with his tired girlfriend. She sinks against him as they walk down the steps leading them to the street where they parked 
“Remind me to never set up a party,” she groans as she throws herself into the passenger seat. Harry bites back a laugh instead, leans in, and helps Y/N buckle up. She gives him a tired grin. “You’re the best.” 
“Do you want me to set up a bath for when I get you home?” 
Y/N perks up. “Does that mean we’re going to yours?” 
Harry has the bigger bathtub, so he knows what she’s asking. If he’ll be joining her. “Text Mitch to stay with Sarah.” 
“Oh, are we using the citrus one?” 
“If that’s what you want.” 
Y/N sighs against her seat. “Oh, how I love you, Harry.” 
Harry’s heart fills with warmth. This love is everything he’s ever wanted in life.
+
Y/N loved her friends. She loved seeing them smile, helping them out, and, most of all, celebrating them. All her friends took care of her, but Y/N always seemed to go above and beyond for each of them. It was something her Mumma taught her. “Give graciously because it will come back to you.” She likes to think it’s come back in ways she never imagined. 
Brandon had always been an excellent friend to Y/N. He had her back when she failed her first exam. He held her hand when she got lost at the pumpkin patch the year prior. Y/N was thankful for everything he did, from helping her set up her first tattoo appointment to taking her to the mechanic and ensuring she wasn’t being ripped off. He was a good friend, and she wanted to celebrate this new opportunity that had opened up for him. He had started a new job in IT a few months back, and Y/N knew how much he enjoyed it. It was better than biology, but soon, his job offered him pay for his education under a different major: IT Security Protection. It was the easiest, yes, but the only problem was that he’d have to go to a college in the States. This was a celebration and an early goodbye because he wasn’t set to leave until the New Year. 
This time, the event was at a club. Everyone was ready to let loose after a hard week, and the celebration was a perfect opportunity. Harry promised Y/N he’d watch after them, only limiting himself to two drinks and ordering them an Uber home when it was time to go. Except for the fact that Y/N was making sure her friends were enjoying themselves. It seemed Samantha got into some drama with Frannie, and they’ve been butting heads. Harry knows Y/N is a great mediator, but he wants Y/N to be able to go out without worrying about fixing problems. His girlfriend is heaven-sent, but he wants her friends to be there for her like she is for them. 
Harry hoped they would prove it on the most important day for Y/N. 
+
Harry takes note of all the grand gifts and events Y/N goes on to plan for her friends. It’s something he knows Y/N loves doing, but what does she get in return? Harry knows her birthday is soon and wonders what her friends have planned. 
A few friends gathered to go out for drinks. Harry had not left his seat beside Y/N except to buy their drinks. Y/N leans in, kissing the corner of his mouth, promising she’d be gone a second, needing to use the restroom. Harry made sure she made it safely before getting everyone’s attention. 
“What are you planning for Y/N’s birthday in a few weeks?” Harry asks, popping Y/N’s cherry from her Shirley Temple in his mouth. Y/N stated she hated them but always ordered extra because she knew Harry would eat them.
Aurora frowned, “What do you mean?” 
“Her birthday. December 3rd. How do you want to celebrate? Was thinking of renting out the backroom of her favorite restaurant, inviting some friends, drinks all night, and cake. You know we’ve got to take care of her sweet tooth.” 
“She doesn’t celebrate her birthday,” Frannie tells him. 
Harry frowns; that doesn’t make sense. Y/N had told him all about how she celebrated with her mum when she was growing up. How her Mum would wake her up to breakfast in bed and slip in next to her, telling Y/N her favorite memories from when Y/N was an infant to her current age. It filled him with so much happiness that she got to experience it. That she had that much love in her life, and while he knows she has lost it in some way, it will always be with her. Frannie’s words ring over and over in his head.
 Y/N never mentioned not being a fan of her birthday. 
“What ya mean?” Harry needs a clear answer. 
“She refuses to celebrate her birthday with us. It’s been like this since I met her, Harry,” Aurora tells him, but he’s not so convinced. 
“Have you asked her? She’s got fond memories of her birthday, and if we let her stop celebrating, this day will mean nothing to her. Y/N makes all of you feel special every chance she gets, from celebrating graduations to the newest tattoos. You mean the world to her, but what does she mean to you?” 
Harry is getting heated, so he excuses himself. He was going to find Y/N and hoped to convince her to let him take her home. He’s too frustrated to keep sitting at a table of their friends who refuse to do something kind for Y/N simply because she said she didn’t want to celebrate once a few years ago.
“H, honey? You okay?” Y/N asks, concerned when she finds him leaning against the wall beside the restroom.
“Got a headache, Sweets. Wanted to see if you wanted to stay, and I’ll suck it up to keep you company.”
Y/N is quick to disagree. “No, no. We’ll go back to yours. Let me take care of you.” 
Harry loves his girl. She deserves the universe; if he can try to give it to her each day, he knows she will always feel loved. 
+
Harry woke up bright early, under purple covers. Y/N curled up into his chest, almost her entire face hiding under the covers. He hated moving, knowing she might wake up with any wrong move, but he managed to settle her and went outside. He did his morning routine quickly, then headed to the kitchen, where he made sure he had everything for French toast, her absolute favorite meal last night. 
While cooking the French toast, he ordered her iced vanilla oat milk latte to be delivered. He hated delivery fees, but today was a special occasion, and he would do anything to make her day memorable. 
As he placed the French toast on a plate, Harry noticed the front door camera and hurried over before the person could knock. Harry received the drinks with a giant smile, giving the guy a ten-dollar bill in thanks. He found the tray Y/N told him she likes to use under the sink. He put the French toast and a cup of water on the tray. Grabbing the flowers, he rushed out to get up the street from Lady Silvie and her coffee. 
He saw her beginning to stir, her hands moving around as if searching for him. His heart tightened in his chest at how much he loved her. Softly, he began to sing “Happy Birthday.” Y/N, in confusion, froze before shooting upright. Harry walked closer to the edge of the bed until he knelt on the corner, placing the tray over her lap. 
Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears at the sweet gesture her boyfriend did for her. She mentioned her birthday in passing, hoping he wouldn’t remember, but her dear Harry remembers everything she has ever told him. She had told him stories of how she celebrated with her mum growing up, the only person Y/N has confided in since moving here. Not that she didn’t trust her other friends but because he was patient with her and broke down every single wall she had. Y/N had never felt she could truly be herself with anyone, and thenHarry came into her life. He helped her begin to love every part of herself. 
“Happy Birthday, Sweet Y/N!” 
Her tears break free. 
She can’t even get a word out because her tears keep coming. Every birthday after her mum passed, she dreaded waking up. Most of the time, she slept the day away or treated it as any other day, but today, she woke up with a full heart as she woke up to her boyfriend singing. It’s something Y/N will always hold close to her heart. 
Harry is her best friend, the other person who knows her inside out. With a single look he knows what she’s saying. 
He crawled onto the bed, carefully moving the tray to avoid spilling anything, and pulled Y/N into his lap. It’s one of his favorite positions to be in.  
“Happy tears?” 
Y/N nods. 
“I have a nice day planned for us. Are you up for it?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing circles in her back. 
“You do?” She asks, surprised. 
Harry chuckles, “of course, it’s my favorite person’s birthday.” 
Y/N’s smile is bright. She lets Harry wipe away her tears and then gives him a chaste kiss. “I’m very lucky to have you in my life.” 
They eat breakfast with Y/N in Harry’s lap as she feeds him bites of her fruit. It was very domestic and everything he looks forward to with his future with Y/N. Harry cleans breakfast, asking Y/N to meet him in the living room. She comes out, hair brushed and wearing his hoodie. He has a few gifts sitting on her coffee table. 
Y/N jumps on the couch as she waits for Harry to give her the go-ahead with the presents. She opened her gifts and found items ranging from silk scrunchies to glitter bath bombs. Y/N thanks Harry with a kiss after each present. Harry hands her an envelope, promising it’s the last one. Y/N looks at him suspiciously but opens it slowly. It’s a piece of paper, and she can’t believe her eyes when she unfolds it. 
She reads it again and again.
“Is this real?” Y/N inquires. 
Harry laughs, “very much so.” 
“You got us tickets to SZA,” she says slowly, as if she’s waiting for Harry to tell her it’s not real. 
“It’s our favorite album. I-I thought it would be special. Something to look forward to,” he promised. 
“I love you. I love you so much.”
Harry spends the rest of the morning showing Y/N how much he loves her.
After spending a lovely morning in bed, Harry convinced Y/N to get ready and took her to her favorite bookstore, where he helped her pick a few books from her “tbr,” of course paying for her.  They took a stroll by the lake before deciding it was too cold. Then Y/N decided it was time for an early lunch, and they ate tacos from Y/N’s favorite restaurant. 
It was a perfect day. 
One that helps one final surprise for her. 
+
Harry had requested that she put on her favorite dress and get ready. There was somewhere he wanted to take her.
Outside the restaurant, Y/N asked Harry what they were doing as she saw a full parking lot and a familiar car, but her gaze didn’t linger long as Harry captured her attention.
“Do you trust me?” Harry asked.
“With all my heart,” she answered without hesitation. 
“Then follow me. No questions.” She took his outstretched hand and let him lead the way. Harry told the Hostess the name of his reservation and was told to go down the hall to the right. 
Harry felt his heart pounding as they neared the door that would lead them to all of Y/N’s friends, who were ready to surprise her with a party. Something in him stopped a few steps away. Y/N frowned because something was wrong. Harry seemed like he was going to throw up. 
“H, what’s wrong?” 
Harry lets go of her hand and brings them to rest on her cheek, needing her sweet eyes on him. “I-I-I love you, Sweets. I love you so much. Behind that door are all your friends, ready to celebrate your birthday with you. Selfishly, I want to steal you away, but they’re excited to spend this day with you. If it’s too much and I crossed a line,” his voice cracked. “I apologize. So if you don’t want that, we can go right now.”
“You planned this,” she whispered. 
Harry sighs, “yes, they told me not to, but you shower everyone with your love, and you deserve the same, if not more.” 
Y/N feels her throat close up and knows she’s going to cry as soon as Harry leads them to the party. 
She steps closer to him, with no space between them. Harry looks at her with so much love she knows he’s honestly her other half.  Y/N pulls him down by the collar of his shirt and kisses him with everything she has. Y/N spills everything in the kiss. All her love wrapped in a kiss for Harry. He gives her back the same energy; both lost in the taste of each other don’t pull apart until they’re fighting for a breath. Y/N laughs against his mouth. “I love you. I love you so much.” 
Harry kisses her again. “I love you, Sweets.” 
“Let’s go in.” 
He leads the way, knocking on the door three times, telling her that was the code for her arrival. Harry lets her in, and that’s when her friend's screams ring in her ears. Everyone Y/N considers a friend is here. The room has balloons and streamers around. There’s a cake that looks so yummy and a table full of presents all for her. Her friends stare at her with smiles. Y/N is so overwhelmed she doesn’t even know who to approach first. Aurora chooses for her, pulling her in for a tight hug. 
”Happy Birthday, bestie!” Y/N laughs as Rora twirls her around. Rora pulls her back in, wiping away a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”
Y/N shakes her head, “no, no.” 
Rora brushes her off. “You’ve been there for me since I met you. I’m sorry I didn’t always do the same.” 
Y/N appreciates her friend’s apology, but she was partly to blame. She never fully let anyone in, afraid they’d leave her just like everyone else, but Harry showed her that wasn’t the way to live.
“You’ve got a good one,” Aurora told Y/N, pointing at Harry, who was talking with Mitch and Brandon. As if he could feel his eyes on her, he turned around, sending her a dimpled smile. 
“You okay?” He mouthed.
“Perfect.” She replied. She blew him a kiss and continued around the room, talking to her friends.
As the night continued, Harry ensured Y/N always had a drink in hand, whether a vodka cranberry, or water. He ate dinner with her and helped her cut the cake when she asked for his help. All the cameras were on her, and she had gotten overwhelmed. Harry slipped his hand on top of hers, and together, they cut Y/N’s slice of cake. 
No one had left yet, but Y/N needed a breather, so she stepped onto the patio overlooking a beautiful lit-up forest. Y/N heard silent footsteps behind her. She turned around to find Harry with his coat in his hands. 
“Don’t want you to get sick, my love.”
Y/N smiles, stepping close to him and letting him help her put it on. She was staring at Harry with so much adoration. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him in her life. Y/N leaned in close. The music flowing out of the room had her wrapping her arms around his waist. His hands settled on her waist as he held her tight, that familiar feeling that if he didn’t hold tight enough, she might disappear. 
Harry leaned his forehead against hers, letting each other fall in love all over again.
“This was the best birthday,” she whispered as they swayed to the music in the distance. 
Harry lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair back. “Just wait until next year,” he promised.
Y/N looked forward to it. 
+
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fleurriee · 1 year
Text
— protection duty ; neteyam sully
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pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader
synopsis ; it had been a few months now since you found out you were pregnant, and the paranoia of your mate can either be sweet or... annoying.
word count ; 4.3k
themes ; fluff, slight angst???, established relationship (mates).
warnings ; reader experiencing abdominal pains, overbearing neteytam if that counts but we'll continue to love him anyway???
author’s note ; the entire time i was writing this i had baby fever... what do i need to do to get my own neteyam?? this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!
previous part ; next part
dad!neteyam series masterlist main masterlist request a fic!
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"Here, let me."
For almost the entire day, you had found yourself confound to the same surrounding walls of the Tsahik tent. The predicament of being pregnant - let alone with the heir to the Olo'eyktan of the Omitkaya clan - was something you definitely hadn't seen coming. Of course, you understood their worries, but when it started to become a constant reoccurrence, it seemed a little too much.
You absolutely appreciated every gesture the clan offered you - whether it was helping you walk across the way, helping you sit down, helping you collect your food. It was endearing, but sometimes, you wished you could go back to the girl you were before, the one who could do things for herself without the fear of being coddled.
Obviously you had regular check ups with Mo'at to ensure everything was going smoothly with both yourself and your baby. This mainly included instances where she would poke and prod against your body, keeping her ears close to hear anything particular, calling out signs from Ewya that spoke of a blessing.
Today, however, was different.
Stupidly, you had accidentally let slip that you had begun to feel slight aches around your stomach. There wasn't anything specific about these pains, either, which made them more difficult to hide - they could occur at any part of the day, no matter who you were with or what you were doing, and you could only discreetly wince so much until it was becoming too much to bear on your own.
A small part of you was relieved by your own slip up to the Tsahik - that way, you had someone to confide in, who you could talk your problems away to and would understand. You were too nervous to tell Neteyam, already knowing the exact reaction he'd have. It wasn't as though you could have asked for a better mate by your side as you slowly started to take this journey together, but he was extremely protective.
And, you could understand his protectiveness when it came to the two of you - this was your first child, the first time you would be experiencing this path, and thankfully, you were doing it together. But, when his hands wouldn't leave your figure, keeping his steps directly next to your own, you had to start biting back your snaps. You didn't want to fight with him, after all, this was his baby, too, but despite doing this together, the stress hanging upon your shoulders and aching against your lower back was becoming too much.
So, when you let slip of your pains to Mo'at, the protectiveness you had seen in Neteyam had slowly started to transfer to his grandmother, clear as day as to where both himself and his mother got such a trait from in the first place. In an instant, she was rushing over to your figure, hands pressing against your stomach to spot the signs that you couldn't even if you had tried. You could see it clear as day when her gaze lingered on your own - this was her grandson's first born child, and all she wanted was for her family to be happy.
Thankfully, nothing had been wrong. With a smile full of reassurance directed solely at you, Mo'at had ensured you that the pains were natural due to the position your child was laying in - they were putting more pressure against your back than normal, but it was nothing to worry about. Such a revelation had you feeling insanely relieved, hands resting gently against your stomach as you rubbed your fingers to and fro. Already your child was up to no good.
But, in the end, her worries won over, and she insisted that you spend the day with her, just to hold any precautions necessary. You had sighed in reluctance, not wanting to get in the way of the Tsahik with her day-to-day tasks, but one warning look was all it took for you to agree, albeit, grumbling under your breath.
It wasn't too long after that when Kiri entered the tent, ready to work alongside her grandmother. Upon spotting you, she gave you a questioning expression, one you just answered with a subtle shake of your head, insinuating you'd rather not get into it right then. She didn't mind, instantly beginning her training as you watched on.
That was how the day panned out for you - sitting comfortably with your legs crossed, hands resting on top of your stomach, secure, back finally getting the rest it was screaming out for as you leant against a table. Every now and again, you would share input based on the training you were receiving before having them put on hold due to falling pregnant. It was nice, calming.
It wasn't as though there was much else you could do, especially considering your condition. Neteyam was out all day - he had grumbled and hissed at his father for forcing him away from his mate when she needed him the most, but all it took was Jake insisting that he needed to provide for his family more so than ever before, meaning he had to go out and hunt with the rest of those responsible with such a task. Leave it to Neteyam to step up to a mighty, protective role - he'd do anything for the two of you, that much was obvious.
Towards the end of the day, you had received another visitor - Neytiri. Throughout your pregnancy so far, your mother-in-law had been nothing but kind, understanding, nurturing. You felt at peace when you were around Neytiri, the woman always ensuring you were happy and okay before asking any other questions. She knew first hand what it was like to go through what you were, especially as a figurehead to the entire clan, and she'd be damned if she were to let you crumble under the weight of it all.
Neytiri greeted both her mother and her daughter before making her way over to you, squatting down and asking how you were. The question bought you ease and solace, wrapped within the comforts of a fellow mother's warm embrace. She'd brought you some fruits, too, for your dinner that night, stating that not only were they deliciously beautiful, but that they had properties within them that could help ease any potential pains you may been feeling. For a split second, you panicked, wondering whether your winces hadn't been all that discreet in the end, and waiting for the inevitable scolding you'd receive for not seeking help immediately. Instead, she only continued to smile softly at you, placing the bowl down near you and subtly asking for permission to place her hands against your stomach.
This was something Neytiri loved to do - she said being close to a child still in the womb like this was comforting for both the mother and the baby, the both of them relishing in the embrace of knowing they were never alone, that they had a family - an entire clan - standing behind them, ready to receive them home. And, she was right, like she always is. Such a gesture caused you relaxation, the constraints dispersing within the seconds until it was like they were never there at all.
You had left not long after that, stating that you needed to get back home before Neteyam did to ensure he had some food waiting for him after a gruelling day of hunting. Before you could leave the tent, Mo'at had shot up from her position, gesturing you closer to her and doing something similar to what Neytiri had done earlier. Mo'at was breathing in deeply, eyes closed as she spoke to the will of Ewya. When the Tsahik did this, you couldn't help but worry for a short second that maybe something was wrong, but the pleasant smile etched into the elder Na'vi's lips forced all those thoughts away into oblivion.
Finally, you were on your way home, a small bowl of fruits in one hand and the other on top of your protruding stomach that was beginning its little renditions of rumbling. The sweet scent of the food just below you were invading your scenes, and you were sure you had never smelled anything sweeter, a pure smile of bliss painted upon your features.
That was when Neteyam came.
He was by your side in an instant, the warmth of his body radiating through to your own, hands moving subconsciously towards the bowl to take it from your own grasp. Looking over at him, it was clear as day he hadn't been to a healing tent like they were supposed to after every hunt, even if it was just to get checked out. Neteyam had no scratches on him, of course, but he was a little filthy, chest heaving with panting breaths, sweat beading upon the top of his head. He must've seen you on your way home.
"Neteyam," you chastised him, keeping the bowl tight in your hold. "I can carry it-"
"It's fine, yawne (beloved)," he replied, shaking his head, adamant. His gaze was piercing as he looked intently down at you, unrelenting in his actions - it was obvious he wasn't going to give in, not like you wanted him to. "I'll do it for you."
You grumbled to yourself, eyes rolling in disbelief at such a level of protectiveness emanating from your mate - you understood it sometimes, but this was ridiculous. "It is only a bowl of fruit."
With a playful shrug, he smirks, knowing he's starting to get on your nerves with the way he's acting, but clearly not caring enough to stop himself. There was nothing on both the world of Pandora and all the galaxies around that could stop him from treating you with the upmost care and compassion as a mate and father-to-be should. If anything were to happen to you, he'd never forgive himself, even if the perpetrator was a bowl of fruit. "And, what type of Na'vi would I be if I didn't help my pregnant mate?"
There's no chance to retaliate against him - in an instant, he's moving over to your tent, opening the flap of the entrance open with his arm as he gestures you to walk through. The sight of him sends shivers down your spine, your mind creating images of nights you'd spent intimately together - the way he was such a gentleman towards you, so caring and doting, had you practically frothing at the mouth. Not that he'd do anything with you now, though.
Shaking your head in mock displeasure, you walked into your tent, grumbling as you went, eyeing him with slight annoyance of him prohibiting you from practically everything. You loved him for it, of course you did, but no matter how annoyed you'd become at each overbearing action, the two of you knew he wasn't going to stop, so what was the point in arguing when it was only going to be a losing battle?
Moving further into your tent, you walk around the middle where a small table had been both built and set up by Neteyam just after you moved in. It was ritual that you always ate together there, sharing stories of your day and wondering what the next one would bring. It always brought you sadness when Neteyam couldn't make it - there had been several times since moving in together that he had to go out on a hunting trip for days, but his family were always sure to invite you to their meal, not wanting you to be alone.
Standing in your usual spot, you watched in your peripheral as Neteyam started to tie the entrance closed, wanting the two of you to have as much privacy and time to be your true selves together. You started to bend your knees, arms preparing to catch your weighted figure on the way down when another sharp pain pierced right against your abdomen, sending jolting sensations right to the bottom of your toes. An agonizing hiss escaped past your lips before you could remember to stop yourself, too busy focusing on the pain bearing down on you, knees wobbling as you struggled to hold yourself up right.
Immediately, Neteyam was by your side, bowl shoved to the floor carelessly, its contents spilling about the place. His protective side washed over him, glazing him over in a red light until all he was doing was panicking. He took note of your scrunched up features, the way your brows furrowed, eyes wrenched shut, legs unsteady. Gently, but with a rush of urgency, he placed one hand to the back of your neck, willing your head to look up at him, to focus on him, and the other on top of your plump stomach, fondly caressing the skin with his thumb. "What is it - what's wrong, yawne (beloved)?"
You give yourself a minute to catch your breath, shaking your head and willing yourself back to the present, mind relentlessly reminding yourself that it's okay, Mo'at said it's fine. Still, you don't move, staying in his arms that brought you such a strong feeling of safety. "It is nothing, my muntxa (mate), just a bit of pain." You swallow deeply, the pain beginning to subside. "Your grandmother said it is normal." Looking up at him, you instantly recognised both the hesitance and concern rooted deeply within his gaze, eyes slightly crinkled and a crease between his brows. It didn't matter how many times you told him the same thing now, he'd be by your side constantly. "It's okay, ma'teyam. Let me just-"
You attempted to unwind yourself from his arms, going to try and sit down again so you could start the meal that should have been completed ages ago now. But, Neteyam wouldn't let you, noticing exactly what you were doing and not allowing it. Whilst his grip on your delicate figure tightened just a little, he shook his head vehemently. "No, no. I will do our food tonight, muntxate (wife)."
Guilt started to cleave away at your mind - Neteyam had surely had a long day, no doubt only wanting to be home and within your arms, surrounding by his own growing family, appetite full from a meal you had made. Yet, here he was, insisting he make the food for the two of you - well, three of you - despite the tiredness clearly shown on his features. "Neteyam, really-" you sighed.
"Please, my syulang (flower)." He begged, the desperation evident in his tone of voice, and it only ached your heart more. The soft sensation of his thumb continuously rubbing against your stomach paired along with the compassion in his gaze, never once faltering from your own, already had you agreeing with him. "Let me do this for you." His voice was soft, words spoken tenderly, like speaking any louder might've hurt you or the baby.
With his head resting gently upon your own, you felt yourself beginning to fall down the path that was only filled with him. How could you say no to such a request when he was desperate to provide for you, wanting to be the head of his own family that he couldn't wait to watch grow with you by his side?
You nod, causing a slow but bright smile to be casted upon his lips. His hands don't move from your body, instead making their way around your figure until he has you turned around, situated in front of him and guiding you over to the mat the two of you share. Actions considerate of the potential pain you could still be in, he starts to help you lower yourself down, one hand against the small of your back, and the other not having once moved from your stomach, from your baby. His touch was as though he was protecting them from the world, from anything daring enough to threaten them - Ewya help whoever would when they cross Neteyam.
Placed gently upon your mat, comfortably in the same position you continue to find yourself in - legs crossed over one another and arms wrapped around the entirety of your stomach - your mate stood above you, looking down at you lovingly. Sending you a warm smile, he placed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, before eventually parting and moving back over to the bowl of discarded fruit.
You watch him as he works, preparing his family's dinner, hands moving deftly about the table's surface. He made sure to give you a bigger portion now that you were technically eating for two, adding in the fruits he instantly knows were from his mother after having seeing them all the time when growing up. Every now and again, he'll aim his attention back over to you, no doubt checking on you and making sure you're comfortable and okay, only to find your eyes automatically following his every move. He chuckles to himself, his tail twitching at the way he can gain such a loving reaction from you, willing his attention back to his task.
You just can't help yourself when he looks like that - the way the domesticity oozes from him so deliciously only has you buzzing with excitement. Just the thought of what he'll be like when the baby eventually does arrive causes your flesh to rise, your heart fluttering widely. If you'd have known he could only get more attractive during a time like this, you might've given yourself more warning - then again, you knew nothing could really prepare you for the man before you.
Before you know it, Neteyam is up and making his way over to you, gently cupping your portion of food and handing it over to you. Hurriedly, he goes back for his own, settling himself down beside you, knees touching and warmth excruciating. You smile widely at him at the way he's treating you, slowly beginning to come to terms with his protectiveness - as he said, it's his job as both your mate and the soon-to-be father of the family. Bringing the food up to your mouth, you take a small bite, relishing in the tastes it exudes, loving the mixture Neteyam had made just for you.
A moan of delight falls from your lips, eyes peeling back open to fall upon him, attention already locked on you. "Thank you, ma'teyam."
He smiles warmly back at you, savouring the way you look at him. Happiness washes over him that you enjoyed the meal he rushed for you, only now hoping that his baby enjoyed some of it, too. Nodding, you watch as some of braids fall into his face. "Of course, my muntxate (wife). I'll always take care of my girls."
Such words have you raising your eyes, pointedly looking straight at him. You can feel your ears twitch as you process the exact thing he had just softly spoken to you. "Your girls?" you question, teasingly smiling, but unable to hide the pure adoration peeking through your façade. With a free hand, you start to rub against your stomach, part of you hoping against all odds that your unborn baby could hear their parents. "Who says they are a girl, hmm?"
Shrugging, Neteyam takes another bite of his food, speaking with his mouth full. When he's outside, in front of the clan, he can't do things like this - he can't show off his childish side and be the Na'vi he feels he truly is. He has to put on a front, but not with you - never with you. Allowing him to show himself off like this, has only ever made him love you more. "Father's intuition."
You laugh loudly at his reasoning. "Father's intuition?" you repeat, shaking your head at him. "And, what about the mother's intuition?"
The teasing between you only continues to go back and forth, a smile full of adoration playing on his lips. Shaking his head, he leans closer to you, voice quiet but tender. "I know I'm not normally right about these things," he begins, giddiness starting to wash over you as you watch his every move, "but, this I definitely am."
Heart warm and mushy, your mind begins to show you quick images of a future that could be waiting for you - Neteyam swinging your unborn daughter in the air, her little, high-pitched giggles loud within the clan; Neteyam walking around with her all day, showing off everything her sempu (father) does to help provide and feeling proud when she shows interest; Neteyam wanting to teach her absolutely everything, wishing her to be fierce and independent, but not so much so she was unsafe or didn't feel the need to confide with her parents.
You can't help but look up at him like he's the one who hung all the stars in the sky, like he was the embodiment of Ewya herself.
Eyes still penetrating him, mind still hazy with beautiful images, you bite your lip, unable to hide the growing smile that's evident of the way he speaks about your family. "I guess a girl does sound nice."
Breathlessly laughing, he finishes off his portion, gesturing for you to each as much of yours as you could - he knew sometimes, despite always ensuring you gave yourself a larger portion, that you struggled to finish a full meal. When you ate all you wanted, he took the discarded leftovers, placing them in the bowl his mother sent and leaving it on the side. Now back with you, you look up at him, wondering what his plan is to do next. You can't say you're entirely surprised when he bends low beside you, picking you up in his arms and beginning to lay you back against the mat with care, assuring that you weren't in any pain.
Since moving in together and decorating your tent exactly how the two of you loved it, making sure it felt exactly like home, Neteyam had insisted that he would be the one to sleep on the outside of the mat, leaving you encased between your mate's body and the side of the tent. You never had any disagreements with his arrangements, but you'd asked him why out of curiosity, with him explaining that if anything were to happen, he could protect you before they could threaten you. You remember feeling giddy at his confession at the time, and now that you were pregnant, that had only reached ten-fold.
You lay on your back, waiting for Neteyam to make himself comfortable beside you; one arm placed under your head, acting as a pillow, and the other situated right where it always found itself - upon your stomach. His hand moved almost subconsciously, rubbing soothingly against your skin, drawing patterns and wondering if his baby could tell he was near.
Like a routine now, Neteyam doesn't allow himself even a single moment to think about falling asleep, no matter how tired he is or how much he wishes to float away, dreaming of you and your baby. Instead, he lifts himself forward, resting his head just inches away your stomach, and speaks softly, whispering the words into your skin so they can hear every word he has to say to them. "I love you, ma'evenge (my girl). Goodnight, and make sure to be kind to your mother so she can get some good rest, too."
Chuckling at his words, Neteyam lies back down, situating himself right by your side, snuggling in closer to you. He cups his hand against your cheek, bringing you in for a loving kiss, one that had you feeling a tingle of excitement.
Pulling away from you, your mate stares intently into your eyes. "Promise me you will tell me when you feel pain like that again."
You melt into his embrace, head snuggling into the palm of hand, sighing in defeat. "Neteyam," you relent, bringing your own hand up to run up and down his chest in smoothing patterns, attempting to calm his worries. "Your grandmother - the Tsahik - said it is perfectly normal to get them every now and again when-"
Neteyam shakes his head, refusing. His eyes are narrowed, adamant. "No, I do not care if they are normal, for whatever reason." His words have you stumped, watching him without breaking away from his gaze. "I need to know what you are feeling, and I need to help you through it." Blinking, you can feel a build-up of tears at the way he speaks to you, so caring, so devoting. "As your muntxa (mate), and as a sempu (father)."
You can't help but feel bad for having put him in this situation in the first place - you know now, with how achingly clear it is, that telling Neteyam of your growing pains was always what you should've done to begin with. It didn't matter how protective he got over the two of you, because his intentions were always clear - to keep you safe and healthy. For you to have denied that of him was wrong.
Licking your lips, you breathe in relief, looking up at him tenderly, eyes alight. "Okay, ma'teyam," you relent, "I will - I promise."
Leaning up slightly, you press a feather-light kiss along his jaw, feeling him starting to relax from beneath your touch. You pull away and spot the tiredness beginning to take over him entirely, so you snuggle in closer to him, your head nestling into the crook of his neck and allowing him was to engulf you whole. His tail moves against you, wrapping itself from around Neteyam and coiling over your bulging stomach, body subconsciously feeling the need to protect his mate and baby.
With a sigh of relief, the two of you allow sleep to invade your senses, slipping off into a world of pure bliss that you can only hope will be a part of your futures.
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