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#then times where he was kinder than he needed to be
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What if Rafal couldn't save Rhian in time? Like Vulcan successfully stabbed him with the pen before Rafal could prevent it?
The comedic answer is that I have one word for you: gibbeting.
That's the more "fun" answer, a form of medieval execution/torture, which was specifically intended to make an example of someone, publicly, to deter further criminal acts, and if Vulcan murdered Rhian, well, he deserves the worst death possible! And why not make it a creative one? However, I think, to an extent, that gibbeting could be too extreme, and that Rafal would recognize that if Rhian were alive, he'd view it as an eyesore, tasteless, or simply too brutal, so it's probably unlikely to happen. But, Rafal might not be above it, considering that the Doom Room exists, so it could go either way, potentially.
Plus, there's some added, bonus "fun" here, in how a certain canon moment would come full circle. Vulcan put Rafal in a birdcage (while he was a black sparrow), and now, Rafal would get the pleasure of hanging Vulcan (or rather, his slowly dying and later, decomposing body) up in a cage, a pretty neat form of revenge, if I do say so myself, haha! Besides, Vulcan was a bit exhibitionistic, wasn't he? So, this would also make for an ironical fate.
Now for the serious answer. I hope you don't mind it if I get a little more subjective/personal with this one at some point. It's not quite as much an overblown, narrative-style post, and may be more understated than usual.
I took this "what if" ask to essentially mean: how would Rafal react to Rhian's death and how would he mourn Rhian over time? If I misinterpreted your ask, and this wasn't the kind of response you were expecting, please let me know. Also, everything is speculative, of course, so take my interpretations with a grain of salt. I'm open to hearing other opinions!
I think Rafal's immediate, knee-jerk reaction would probably be to murder Vulcan as revenge, but also it would serve the more practical reason of disposing of the tyrant usurper, ousting him from the School permanently. However, I don't think Rafal would find catharsis in it, not this time at least, considering why he is doing it.
He'd have to act on his feet, and quickly, because, Vulcan would still pose a threat to his own life, which would force Rafal to delay any kind of visceral, emotional reaction.
That is why I think the murder would be done instantaneously because speed is more important, and so is getting the task done right. And, having Vulcan dead sooner for everyone's safety is more important than the potential brutality of any kind of gruesome catharsis Rafal could derive from the act. That's why I think Rafal would go about performing this particular murder in a less sadistic fashion, for once, like how Vulcan died in canon by a stab wound, versus the time when Rafal turned Rufius to gold and shattered him, or did worse to others, generally. If Vulcan had simply been a foe who was already incapacitated, that could've given Rafal the opportunity to go for a worse form of murder, but Vulcan isn't harmless.
Thus, employing a "kinder" form of murder in this instance wouldn't be out of sympathy for Vulcan, but more so, to fulfill an urgent need. And, in some sense, the act of murder would be done out of a kind of duty to Rhian, for Rhian's sake and nothing more. I think Rafal deriving pleasure/catharsis out of this murder could possibly be a bit of a slight to Rhian's memory because this is somber business.
Then, after that adrenaline or rage-fueled clarity and the action taken, I think Rafal would next probably feel some kind of uncomprehending fog next because Rhian was suddenly ripped away from him with little warning. His supposedly immortal brother, who was supposed to be with him forever, just died. To an extent, that has to feel surreal.
The surreal feeling could start out as a detached, dissociated feeling, like the kind of out-of-body experience where you're like a third-person observer, (probably a similar feeling as a panic attack?) Like, what? What has my life become? Rhian is suddenly gone, for good.
(The revelation of Rhian's death being real could also prompt a lot of thought as to why their bond wasn't able to save or revive Rhian, and could evoke guilt.)
Once Rafal processes the implications of Rhian's death, his initial outburst could be the most, actual, unbridled emotion he lets out, at all, if ever—maybe, one raw, primal scream of agony into the ether and that’s it. (Yet, I'm also tempted to say, that's too dramatic of a reaction, even for him. As interesting as it is to go to extremes in other cases, I'm attempting to go for something closer to realism here, so bear with me.)
While there is probably a narrow chance, that under the exact, right conditions, he could be driven insane or become an extremist in some way, out of guilt or by how ridiculously unjust the whole situation would be, I think it's a little more plausible that Rafal would just bury himself in his work. He could devote his life to Evil, and still keep it in balance with Good, without Rhian there to keep him in check, even if he was more often the one to keep Rhian in check, from what we saw. (He could also become disillusioned with the world and the Pen.)
Given how I view Rafal, I think he would shut down emotionally but not functionally. He wouldn't let himself dwell on the grief for long, and he might even (irrationally) resent Rhian for dying, at first, on the surface, because he's now got twice the work. And yet, the work would be a welcome distraction from his actual grief.
Additionally, I think Rafal would become numb and immune to all emotional appeals from other people. Not even a trick like Hook reminding him of Rhian would work to convince him to change his mind that he's already made up in any future instance. He's never, never investing himself in the fate of another person again. Not when he could lose them. He just... does his job. Someone has to do it after all.
That said, I think his paranoia level would absolutely skyrocket, too, as a result of the whole Vulcan incident, and that he'd isolate himself more than he already did before.
Now comes the part where this may or may not take a weird turn, and I could be projecting with what I'm about to say, but I think I have actual reason to apply it to Rafal, purely out of thinking it could make sense for him, (as just one of the many possible ways he could take Rhian's death. Again, this is all just my speculation. I could easily be wrong, so keep that in mind.)
Ok, I'm not sure if this is a common or a weird thing to think and I had a feeling it could be controversial. Thus, I'm going to preface it with this: my intention is not to sound callous, but...
I (usually) do not miss people when they are gone. (Death is different from just absence though.)
I doubt that I "miss" people in what is the typical way, from what I have heard from others? Though, I have an explanation. Obviously, it depends, but missing others doesn't occupy my every waking thought. (And thoughts about fictional characters are a different type of thought to arise.)
I feel others' presence when they’re around, and when they’re not around, unless I'm concerned for them, I don’t exactly think about them. It's kind of "out of sight, out of mind," except for the cases in which I actually am holding something to say to them in mind for our next encounter.
I’m sorry if this is strange, but I think that’s how I operate most of the time. I don't "wait around" for people to return because I always have some thing to occupy myself with. Can anyone relate?
I suspect that the reason why is because, to me, missing someone is what I would classify as an active feeling. When someone I love is apart from me, I'm usually busy, regardless of whether they're present or not (that doesn't change), and I know that when you're busy, you don't have the time to feel, at least not active emotions. They just... don't occur to you? Or maybe they are not conscious?
Now, from my view of things, if something you feel becomes a problem, and interferes with your daily functioning or general contentment with everyday life, that could very well surface as a real reaction or outburst. But, that's an entirely different matter. I also think that I am reminded of people at times, but that I usually don't "miss" them without there being some kind of (internal or external) stimuli that causes me to think about them.
Maybe, I'm just projecting onto Rafal too much because I relate to him over other characters, and this is silly, or junk psychoanalysis, but it seemed to fit his character also???
Sometimes, I just want recognition more than I want actual companionship since I don't get lonely. I wonder what that says about me? That I'm an introvert, or lazy because relationships require regular maintenance to sustain them? I promise I'm not a misanthrope!
Ok, back to Rafal. He's sunken himself into his work and as such, he wouldn't actively miss Rhian. (If anyone would like more clarification, I'm not saying he wouldn't grieve Rhian at all. It's not that.)
And, if we're going down a more realistic than dramatic route, he wouldn’t lose his sense of self, or his mind over Rhian. Yes, not even Rhian. I think the only thing keeping him running and tethered to his life would be his commitment to the School/keeping himself alive.
What this makes me think of is how people romanticize grief or unrequited love, how they may end up looking wan and eventually wasting away (well, if we're talking about being heartsick in literary/symbolic contexts...). And, I just don't think Rafal would be the type of person to fall into some kind of "madness" or melancholic malady. Grief just wouldn’t be so debilitating or all-consuming to him because he wouldn’t let it do that to him. He wouldn’t stop eating or sleeping as I would expect these behaviors more from someone like Rhian, not him.
Similarly, he might not indulge in pleasurable things, but he’s a bit of an ascetic already anyway, so that’s that. He could potentially renounce pleasurable things in life out of mourning, in a traditional way, but I doubt that would happen either, to be honest. It probably wouldn't cross his mind. At least, it wouldn't happen on a formal, conscious level, even if he could very well deprive himself without realizing it.
I just don't think Rafal would be engulfed by grief, simply because he isn’t that much of an emotionally driven person or that vulnerable to being swept up by personal tragedy, when compared to Rhian, who's more "wild." He’d only let his grief manifest so far, assuming his emotions do still remained locked down and under his control.
So, while he may think about Rhian regularly, he might just accept the fact of Rhian's death, carry on, and not miss him because Rafal��missing Rhian could (implicitly) mean becoming non-functional due to grief (or guilt) and that would be too great of a risk for Rafal to take, considering his current reality alone. Basically, to let himself wallow in those emotions would be an unnecessary "risk," from his viewpoint. That's why he might repress that reflective type of thought.
Such feelings would be too much mess or potential disorder for someone like him, especially if he realized he couldn't keep them contained, and they, as a consequence, actually jeopardized his fate or the School's, assuming the grief made him unable to perform his job properly.
(He'd probably subtly resent the Storian as well, for not preserving Rhian's life.)
Also, one small point: in canon, was his bond with Rhian really, truly all-consuming? Let's stop and ask ourselves that for a moment.
Yes, for a time, their bond may have seemed like it was priority no. 1, but Rafal was apart from Rhian for six months, and might not have consciously missed him, if it took him that long to return after getting an external reminder from his interactions with Hook. It might have taken something outside of himself (like the prophecy) for him to come to the realization that he had to return and reestablish his loyalty to Rhian (which was arguably never gone, just dormant for a while). And this would mean that if left alone to his own devices, had he never been moved by James, or "awakened" and been made aware by Adela Sader, he could have taken longer than even six months to return... if he ever decided to at all, if the thought ever arose in the first place.
So, overall, it would only be rarely, when he has nothing to occupy himself with, that Rafal would grieve in some quiet way, and over time, the grief would fade. It wouldn't leave him entirely, but it would diminish, I think, the more and more he distances himself from everything else.
Also, in canon, I suspect that he lies to himself about how much he cares for Rhian. He never shows Rhian much affection, but he sacrifices his life for him, on instinct, which probably means a grieving Rafal would also lie to himself about how “little” he mourns Rhian. In reality, he’d probably mourn Rhian a great deal more than he could know, but wouldn’t have enough self-awareness to realize it.
Perhaps, at night, he would be haunted by Rhian's memory, and take on Rhian's insomniac trait on occasion. Also, to credit @cursed-daydreamer, I think it would be plausible for Rafal to take on a few of Rhian's traits, unconsciously, to compensate for the loss, and fill his void; it could be a way of keeping Rhian's presence in his life.
Lastly, I doubt that Rafal would publicly erect monuments or dedicate anything to Rhian. He wouldn’t want a painful, visual reminder around. His rituals, if we were to call them that, any form of remembrance, I mean, would likely be private, away from prying eyes and students. Rafal wouldn't want to come across as weak or sentimental. That’s the last thing he needs at the moment, a ruined reputation, another so-called threat to his own life/power. Because, increased paranoia could lead him to believe that if he were to show any sign of vulnerability, more "Vulcans" could prey on him and the School.
He could maintain the cherry blossom trees though, but it'd always be a sobering occasion, and he'd never take the credit.
Besides that, he probably wouldn’t go eulogizing his brother or canonizing him. He can still recognize Rhian's flaws, and to praise Rhian so completely would be "too much," too public, and the performative (or contrived) nature of certain mourning customs like those would probably strike him as "wrong" because they just seem... insincere. I don't think Nevers (if we're assuming Rafal remains Evil) put as much much stock in praise anyway, according to their value system.
The exception to the rule would probably be if he recognized that it would be Rhian's wish, to receive some recognition or a dedication. Then, he would do it, out of reverence, I think. He'd have reason to "excuse" it (Rhian's dying wishes), unlike visible emotions, which don't have an excuse to be felt.
Also, I was wondering: does anyone agree or disagree? I'm really curious because this ask provoked a train of thought I'd never considered before!
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starry-bi-sky · 10 days
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I am absolutely loving your Danyal Al Ghul au. While I have a soft spot for the whole plotline of Danny becoming his canon personality almost right after breaking away from the LOA all because of Jazz, I'm just as much for your take in which he goes through the same character development as Damian.
Now I'm curious. You already tackled his relationship with Dani, will you eventually take a stab at when he, Sam, and Tucker meet Gregor? Given that it's one of my hated episodes as I couldn't stand Sam's infuriatingly hypocritical attitude to Danny's suspicions of him, I'd kill to see your spin on it.
Aw, thank you! Danyal Al Ghul aus are what got me into DPDC first, so I have a major soft spot for them. That being said, uh, its exactly that soft spot that causes me to have Many Opinions about the trope you just mentioned. Like the trope is all fine and dandy, i don't blindly hate it, my main issue with it is that most aus i've seen treat his backstory as an ex-assassin more like a pretty cosmetic accessory rather than something that actually should have had an impact on him. Especially if he remembers being in the league.
Like i cannot stress enough the fact that being in an ecofascist assassin cult (regardless of his standing in it) should've left him, in some way or another, screwed up morally and psychologically because that's just how development works. Nature vs. Nurture is like a game of tug-o-war that never ends, where they are constantly fighting against each other and one side usually has the upper hand or greater influence. Children model the behaviors of the adults around them (ex: bobo the clown doll experiment), and what impacts them in childhood can stick with them permanently.
Like how my psychology professor put it: a baby's brain is like wet cement; if you slap your hand on it, it leaves an imprint, and the cement dries that way. The same rings true for small children.
I could go on, but I frankly have so many thoughts on that alone that I would end up completely derailing from the second half of your ask, and I don't want to be more critical than I already have. Especially since you just mentioned you have a soft spot for the trope.
[Okay, hold onto your hats because this is long. Naturally lmao.]
Gregor! Man, I'll admit I last watched the show back in middle school on a dodgy illegal website (it had surprisingly good audio and visual graphics, and full episodes. But really annoying porn ads.) but I only made it to like season 1 before my hyperfixation faded and I lost interest. So I never actually saw the Gregor episode.
But... it is relatively easy to find free websites that stream Danny Phantom :), so finding the episode took me like. Thirty seconds. Plus the Tv.Tropes recap page because my damn earbuds just died and im out in public as of rn.
I'm not sure if I'll write something for the gregor episode like I did with Dani, since Dani's a bit of a special case in that she's a clone and tends to be a reoccurring presence in DPDC, and I thought the new dynamic with Danyal would be interesting.
Plus, I'm not a big amethyst ocean shipper for the pure reason of I'm just not all that interested in it; its kinda bland to me. I'll admit I've entertained the thought in this au due to the whole balcony scene i wrote, but I would've entertained the thought anyways if it was Tucker in that position instead. Big multishipper, me.
But, if I had to make it official? Danyal is not interested romantically in Sam when the Gregor episode happens, regardless of his relationship with Valerie. Who, speaking of I'm trying to think about how that would go, and I'm torn between including him almost-dating Valerie or not.
Because on one hand it helps point out Sam's hypocrisy (and i love her but i am always happy to point out her flaws and address them in au) in this episode in terms of Danny spying on them, but on the other hand I'll want to include a lot of set up in order to make Gray Ghost work in this au and wow will that take a while.
Especially with the Flirting with Disaster episode because it happens due to Technus' meddling, and Danny is, well, the son of the Batman? A trained assassin? An ex-assassin nonetheless, but still an assassin? A prodigy child in this au? He might not have needed to use most of his skills in the last few years, but like... there's just a bunch of 'what if' and 'well technically...' and 'would he? he could, but would he?' things that is getting in the way of my thought process and making my head spin.
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Mmm. Okay. Flirting with Disaster occurs relatively the same as canon with a few exceptions; like Danyal noticing the strange coincidences, and he might take the idea into proper consideration because Sam has a point it is strange, especially out of nowhere.
However,,, he really enjoys Valerie's company, and he does really like her. He's been adjusting to civilian life for the last four years and while he's made a lot of progress, he's still. an ex-assassin child living like a wolf amongst sheep. This is normal, typical teenager stuff, and usually his friends like to encourage him doing normal teenager stuff.
So he's stubbornly holding out on the thought that this is normal, that ghost stuff isn't interfering here. He's a little hurt that his friends are discouraging this, he's not bothered by the fact that Valerie is a ghost hunter and he a ghost -- his mother is an assassin, and his father is Batman, and they still had a relationship. (Granted, he's not gonna tell them that)
If anything, being diametrically opposed to each other but still being in love is part of the family! Granted, usually both parties are aware of said opposition to each other, but he'll make a special exception this time around.
(And man now that i'm thinking about gray ghost, im now thinking about various like. scenes i could write between the two of them. maybe in a reblog.)
Anyways uhhh things relatively go the same as canon. Yeah. I think Sam still has a crush on Danny and still spies out of jealousy with Tucker.
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Now, the Gregor episode! With that out of the way; the TVTropes recap for this episode isn't the best because it doesn't go into detail about the entire episode like it does with Flirting With Disaster and Shades of Gray.
(which i looked at earlier because I made a section of this post talking briefly about what changes I'd make to the Shades of Gray episode to help set up Gray Ghost, but ended up deleting because it was kinda irrelevant for the matter at hand.)
So I'm taking in bits of the episode clips at a time, I'll try not to get too nitpicky about how each scene goes because then it's gonna take me a longer time to write this.
But! First thing's first; since Danny is not romantically interested in Sam, he is also not jealous of Gregor. He is however, a bit eyebrow-raisey at him in their first introduction, but that's because Gregor is coming off as obnoxious.
Danny thinks he's kinda annoying, and it doesn't take a genius to see that Gregor is trying to impress Sam. But since they've only known him for five minutes he takes the good faith assumption and assumes that Gregor is genuinely trying to show interest in Sam's interests too because he likes her, so he keeps mum. The fake hungarian accent is weird, but it's overall harmless, so he doesn't point it out.
He does do the spying thing when he starts suspecting that Gregor might be working for the GIW. The episode only has this happen twice, but for the au this happens a handful of more times over the course of the week, with Danyal's suspicion steadily rising more and more each time.
Hah, when he brings up wanting to spy on Sam and Gregor because of this reason, Tucker still does his "woah! you wanna spy on Sam?" thing.
Danny immediately turns to him, completely unimpressed, and crosses his arms. "Tucker," he says, deadpan, "you and Sam spied on me and Valerie."
He uses a combination of his ghost powers and his regular stealth ability to spy on them. He's hiding in a tree when they're skipping rocks, close enough that he can use his powers to hear them talk but far enough away that he has a good view of their surroundings.
He's invisible in the cinema, but doesn't accidentally get in front of the projector. He checks the inside of the room for the GIW, and then waits outside the actual room itself, keeping an eye on the area and occasionally flying in to watch the movie out of boredom. It reminds him of being back on a recon mission with the League, but it doesn't end with him orchestrating someone's death.
Then when they're at the mall he stays in human form, blending in with the crowd. He runs into the GIW there, but realizes that they're not there because of Gregor; they're just shopping. They didn't show up at either of the last two locations, and he follows them to make sure they're not also trying to blend in. But they're literally just there for shopping.
Danny is rather pleased with this turnout; so far Gregor isn't a spy, he's just annoying. The next day at lunch he asks Sam how her date with Gregor went, and that's how she figures out he spied on them, because well, she didn't tell him that.
"Have you been spying on me?"
Danny messes with his food a little bit, and Tucker is sinking into his seat with embarrassment. He frowns, "Only last night. Those incompetent government dodos--"
His lip curls up; he gets all 'Shakespeare-y' (as Sam and Tucker put it) when he's insulting someone, "--kept appearing whenever Gregor did. I followed you and him last night to make sure he wasn't a spy."
A roundabout way of saying, "I was worried".
Sam is, as canon, furious. Danny understands why, he knows generally speaking that people don't like being spied on. But he's confused on just how angry she is, and is a little irritated by it.
"Why would you do that!" She exclaims, "That's way out of line, Danny."
"How? You spied on me when I was going on dates with Valerie." He narrows his eyes, and points his fork at her, "I'm not blind, I noticed."
"That's different, we told you why we were suspicious. And we don't have ghost powers like you do."
"I don't need ghost powers to sneak around, Sam, you've seen this firsthand. And I just told you why I followed you, I thought he was working with the guys in white--"
"So you think someone can only be interested in me if they're after you?" (this is a paraphrased quote, folks ;D)
"No! If that was the case I would have voiced my concern the moment I thought it. I don't get why you're so angry, you spied too."
Iiits.... a mess. Sam storms off with Gregor, Tucker tags along because okay, yeah, maybe Gregor isn't with the GIW, or maybe last night was a fluke. Either way he ends up tagging along. Danny overhears that conversation between the GIW and Mr. Lancer, and maybe he's right, maybe he's wrong; but something is up.
I've gotten to that scene in the locker room where Gregor tells Danny that he knows he doesn't like him, and I've paused at Danny's reply to say this: Danyal doesn't even bother trying to deny it.
"I know you do not like me."
"You're right; I don't."
"Ah, let me finish. I know you do not like me because you want to protect your friend, Sam, and I respect that."
"...That's correct."
"Good! Because I am going to ask her out."
"I had a feeling you'd say that," he stands up, claps his hand tight on Gregor's shoulder, and leans close to him with a threatening smile, "so you understand me when i say; if you break my best friend's heart, you're as good as dead, right?"
"Ah,, yes. I am so glad we got that cleared out of the way, and now I hope after we can.. how you Americans put it, hang out?"
In the episode he hugs Danny and gives him a la bise (which is that french greeting where you kiss someone on the cheek two or more times) after they end their conversation. But here, when he goes to do that to Danyal, Danny leans away, points an accusatory finger at him, and says; "Absolutely not; we are not close."
The next scene after that is like, end of day. Sam, Tucker, and Gregor walking away. Sam looks over her shoulder to glare at Danny, then gets forlorn. Tucker looks back and just looks forlorn.
(When did I start narrating each scene?? Eh, I'm writing this in brief spurts of time throughout the day. Don't fix what's not broke)
After that there's this whole scene with the two GIW agents that have been chasing Phantom all episode. They're there because they have Tucker's PDA that Skulker took, and it's got the information of their purple backed gorilla assignment on it. They've been going around seeing who Tucker associates with in hopes of catching Phantom.
Uhh ahaha and that is where this gets a little interesting imo, and also allows me to mention that im retconning Danyal's (already) redesigned ghost form. Which I've wanted to retcon even before this moment bc it was just too busy. I'll get to that in a moment.
The GIW suspect Gregor for being the Phantom because of his white hair and green eyes, which is all fine and dandy until you remember: Danyal (and by extension Phantom) has that very noticeable, rather identifiable facial scar that goes across the middle of his fucking face. The GIW could easily suspect that Phantom hides his scar with makeup if he's in disguise, but if they meet a kid with a seemingly identical facial scar and similar disposition? Hoo boy.
Solution? I've got two: Gregor is canonically a kid from Michigan who faked everything to impress Sam. Considering he knows she's gothic and knows that she's ultra-recyclo vegetarian? He probably watched her from afar or got information on her somehow. His hair is dyed, his eyes might just naturally be green, but if he notices that she's got a crush on either Danyal or Phantom? A little sfx makeup could help him recreate a similar looking scar.
My second solution that's gonna happen anyways bc its that suit redesign; Danyal does hide his face as Phantom. Ghosts are emotional creatures and its a popular headcanon that their interests, ambitions, etc, influence the way they look as a ghost, not just their death. A big reoccurring theme of my au is that Danyal did not leave the League unscathed, and that being an assassin is an important part of his identity.
So i'm discarding the hazmat suit look entirely and leaning into the 'assassin' thing. But the general (stylized) feel is like, white ribbon/cloth vambraces that he has used as a garrote at some point, a hood, a gaiter scarf-type thing. I'm keeping the cape. I did a doodle a few days back that's not the official redesign, but a redesign for Phantom. I may reblog this post with that attached because it's got the general feel down. There's very little white involved, but the inside of his cape flares out and looks like the night sky.
Now, the hood and gaiter scarf gets rid of most of the problem, but Danny's hood doesn't stay on all the time, so the GIW have likely seen the upper half of the scar. :] Gregor's own drawn-on scar doesn't have to be 1:1, but it looks close enough, right? A small scar cutting through the edge of his brow and ends right below the corner of his eye. A 'cool, badass' one opposed to Danny's 'garish' scar.
But! Back to the episode scene. Canon Danny gets written off as being 'too prepubescent' to be Phantom, and honestly it'd be hilarious if Danyal was written off for the same reason (he's calling them idiots in his head if they do). But instead -- leaning into the GIW's incompetence here -- he gets written off as being too mature or too talkative. Or something equally as absurd.
Sam breaks up with Gregor for canon reasons, but when Gregor does his "i really like you, but, come on-!" and gestures to tucker, he adds on "and that scary friend of yours too, seriously!"
Things go relatively the same as canon after that. Danny does end up apologizing for spying, however. Sam does it first. Sorrows, prayers, all that.
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Things usually end up changed or different when I actually write it down, so I'd likely add more or adjust different scenes according to the flow of the oneshot. This is just like, a general vibe of how things would go, and where some of the more obvious changes would be if I did write this oneshot.
Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for the ask :]
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#danyal al ghul#i dont even mind the trope that danny becomes like his canon self i just want *some* kind of impact on him. but as it stands most aus i've#seen lowkey treat his assassin background as an accessory. like dyeing your hair or piercing your ears. that being said its also a silly#au where they're brothers and are related to each other and thus doesn't have to be that deep at all! im just bored of seeing the same thin#all the time. especially considering danny is usually depicted as the paler/whiter passing twin and being the 'kinder. more compassionate'#one between the two of them. give me danny who suffered crises of morality! danny whose morally darker than a cloud#morally orange and blue danny who sooner understands 'dont litter' than 'dont murder'. arrogant danny! he dotes on the people he loves but#is an utter bitch to everyone else and thus has to learn to be kinder. danny discovering himself outside being an assassin#his brother remembers a kind and compassionate older brother because thats how danny interacted with him. But danny had no qualms turning#around and slicing the tendons of one of the other assassins because of smth they did that displeased him.#he can still be like his canon self but shouldn't there be something that stays behind? Lingering like a blast shadow?#danny who carries weapons on him always even though he knows he doesn't need it but it makes him feel safer.#danny who spits out the oddest. most foreboding shit sometimes and his friends just stare at him and go 'bro what the fuck??'#idk if i can share the website where i found the episodes bc of risk of copyright. but just search up#'where can i watch danny phantom for free' and look for a reddit post with that question. the comments give website options.#i keep thinking about gray ghost now. valerie finds herself becoming a member of the 'danny fenton protection squad' with sam and tucker#danny takes a page from his beloved mother's book and calls his partners 'beloved' and equally sappy pet names.#he also throws the BIGGEST shitstorm of the century when he finds out about what Axion Labs did to the dogs. hoo boy.
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dnangelic · 4 days
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what ghost haunts you?
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the ghost of devotion .
your body was crafted to be loved and to be adored. you write with the touch of a poet, the fingertips of a lover. if you are not loved, you are not whole. you are made to be sculpted by the hands of another into something perfect. without their love, you feel as though you may crumble without the support of purpose their touch provides. when ernest hemingway wrote “it was too good to last.” when ocean vuong wrote, “i miss you more than i remember you.” when david foster wallace wrote, “everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”
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the ghost of the damned .
you rot with the need for something more than what you have. the ghost is built up of the feeling of stagnation. you find it staring at the ceiling with sleep - blurred vision ; this is the third night you have met its eyes in the early hours of the morning. you tear yourself apart looking for comfort, for validation, for acceptance. but it never feels quite enough. you ruin everything you touch, despite every attempt to be more than what you have always been. you would sculpt yourself as something perfect for those around you, but you are no artist. when albert camus wrote, “be silent, heart; there is no hope!” when lucille clifton wrote, “maybe i should’ve wanted less. maybe i should’ve ignored the bowl in me, begging to be filled.” when taylor swift said, “i’m still on that tightrope, i’m still trying everything to get you looking at me.”
tagged by @primordyalsoul ty sumin!!!!
#TAGMEME.#iiiiiIIINTERESTING.....#dark's is fine as is but dai#his relationship with independence/dependence can get a little complicated#his desire is to be independent and he's stubborn about it- hence his rejecting dark's concerns or help sometimes#(that's where the 'what took you so long to call me?' comes from in tandem with constantly reminding daisuke#that they're one and the same; that dark -is- on daisuke's side and very much so. wholly loves and accepts him)#dark's longing is also a reflection of daisuke's longing; to be accepted and loved even within himself for his own flaws and faults#the reality for daisuke too is that so many people around him help and try very hard to care for him from his parents to his friends#the same way everybody remarks he's always trying to do his best for others- which is partly a symptom of dai wanting to be reliable#rather than solely relying on others all of the time... it goes in a big circle#smth smth coexistence and daisuke's simultaneous fear of being ostracized/persecuted for being dark#smth smth dante's inferno and the circle of thieves stealing each other's bodies but the way dark and daisuke learn to share#smth smth you were born to be a phantom thief but it's love that transforms you#dark's longing and loneliness is simultaneously daisuke's longing and loneliness always and forever BUT dark's stagnancy#his supposed state of perfection his immutability that makes him unearthly unhuman - he quietly loathes#dark relies on daisuke to change him too; to be kinder. warmer. the boy's his heart#the same way he's daisuke's supporting dream and aspiration!!!#aw man tag essay. embarrassing. point is dai's very devoted was born for it was destined for it#his family's love gets to the point it's overbearing sometimes but it's so so so genuine and so is his own once he gets to a state of it#but one cannot dismiss ...... the stubborn 'i can do it myself i don't need you' attitude(tm) dai has at dark sometimes#(even though dark is sooooo pathetic n desperate to be relied on)
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leiswxrld · 3 months
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𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
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pairings: felix catton x fem reader
synopsis: you hate felix catton because of how snobby rich and stuck up he is and when your best friend Farleigh tells you to come to saltburn with him, you have no choice but to say yes.
warnings: mdni 18+, smut, public sex, smoking, degradation + praise (slut,whore, pretty girl, beautiful), riding, pussy eating (r receiving), unprotected sex, period sex, enemies to lovers kinder (one sided).
a/n: guys I feel like I rushed this but I was trying to get this done and out by tuesday latest, felix is the definition of girl dinner.
credits: @cafekitsune @roseschoices line dividers ❥
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It’s late, way past midnight sat in the garden hearing the crickets and sounds of birds chirping as you light a cigarette, taking a long drag before pausing and exhaling into the bristly midnight air, sat in pyjama bottoms and a tank top you feel the inclement cold slivering up your fingertips, giving you a case of raymond syndrome.
It’s quiet but peaceful laying against the green grass, taking in another drag from the narrow cylinder in between your lips, tasting the thick smog. You hear the sounds of heavy footsteps behind you, briefly turning over to see him before rolling your eyes and turning back to face the beautiful scenery in front.
Felix Catton. The owner of this beautiful home but it was safe to say you didn’t feel the same way about him, you felt absolute hatred towards him, you didn’t want to be here living it up with all the prissy rich people who loved to flash their money and talk about shit about people they wanted to but your best friend Farleigh begged you to come in his words it would be a ‘hell of a fucking experience’.
Was he irritable- yes but one thing you weren’t going to deny was that he was attractive who in their right mind would disagree, his dark brunette hair complimented his memorising earthy brown eyes, his height would make any person crease and that fucking cheshire smile got you every time.
You feel his presence lingering behind you, almost scared to even approach as you sat in silence for a few seconds, you gently tap the ashes from your cigarette into the grass and you dump the remains into the pond. “What do you want”
You voice is low but threatening, not moving from the current position your in. The sounds of his voice being caught in his throat is evident as he try’s to clear it with a soft cough, “Farley wanted to know where you were”
You scoff, turning around to meet his puppy doe eyes that seem to avoid your intimidating gaze. “So why did Farley send you out to find me”
“Well- I think we need to talk” he replies, voice cracking but confident.
“About ?” your head tilts to the side, eyebrow raised you just wanting the conversation to end so that you could go back to the peaceful silence.
“Do you hate me” the question catches you off guard, surprising you how forward Felix was about your loathing against him.
You sigh, cracking your neck and turning away from him watching the ripples from the pond spread out across the mass of the pond water. “What’s not to like about you….your an asshole, an ignorant rich boy who likes to laugh at those who are less fortunate than you and in general a massive slut”
It was true, Felix was known for being the university’s massive manwhore sleeping around with any girl that would throw themselves his direction, it not only disgusted you but it made you fucking jealous. In some twisted fucking way you wanted to be the one he would bend over and fuck the shit out of, hearing stories from your friends about how much of a good fuck he was made your distaste for him even stronger.
He’s lost for words not saying anything for a moment, you’ve think he’s finally got the hint and pissed off back into the house and you sigh in relief, laying back down on the floor but you hear his footsteps pace around you before stoping in front of you, blocking your view. “What the fuck are you-
It’s quick and sudden, falling onto his knees and grabbing your thighs pulling you towards him. Your confused and baffled, feeling how dizzy you were from the rapid movements as he goes to pull off your shorts along with your underwear.
“Felix get off of me what the fuck are you do-
You felt how embarrassingly wet you were, feeling vulnerable under Felixs unreadable face.
He lowers his face towards your wet pussy, the warm gush of air making you shiver as he finally lets his tongue gently lay across your swollen clit. You gasp, head falling to the ground as Felix gently sucked and nibbled at your sensitive bud.
Your body feels like it’s on fire, the blood flowing throughout your veins, making the beats in your heart beat faster as you unconsciously moan out. He grins, letting you grind into his face feeling the cold sensation of his tongue jewellery, create a cooling sensation on your cunt.
He’s slurping, lapping at your juices and letting out guttural moans, sending vibrations against your clit. He briefly looks up making eye contact with your starstruck eyes as he allows his thumb to gently circle around your bud.
He’s sensual and voluptuous almost making out with your leaking cunt as you try to stay quiet muttering curse words and praises hand, tangled into his greasy hair. You felt painful cramping restricting around your stomach, trying to distract the pain with the pleasurable sensation you were experiencing.
Felix stops for a second coming back up to see his face covered in your juices mixed in with your blood, the feeling dawned on you that it was your period blood on his face and you felt your face heat up as the embarrassment began to bubble in your chest. His finger slides between your folds before slipping it into his mouth, your laid there in shock as you watch how he moans around his fingers.
As if normal he resumes, eating you out more ferociously than before. “y-your fucking insane Felix fuckkkk”
He hums, letting his fingers rub your clit faster as you feel the intense feeling of an orgasm hit you before your slump on the ground, face flushed and mouth gaped open.
He comes back up with blood all over his face and a shit eating grin, “looks like someone’s lost for words”
“Fuck off Felix” your grinding into his hand and he chuckles licking his lips clean, “Seems like someone’s still desperate for my touch I thought you hated me princess ”
“I do hate you the only good thing about you is your tongue” you reply, going to stand up before he pushes you down.
“Since I’m only good for my tongue let’s see how fucking cock drunk you get for me, maybe it will change that bratty attitude” he sets himself beside you, sliding off his briefs before revealing his girthy curved cock, his tip scarlet red and leaking precum.
“Are you going to sit on it or not because I can just go and you can use your fucking hand to get off” your pissed but too aroused to fucking argue, climbing onto his lap and straddling over his tip before completely bottoming out on it. You both gasp slowly, feeling his hands go to grasp your ass before you begin to bounce on it.
You keep a set pace, grinding and vigorously bouncing on him, your hands wrapping around his neck. He invites you into a heated kiss, the taste of your period blood having a addicting sweet metallicy taste mixing in with your bitter tobacco taste.
The grunts and moans, emit from his chapped lips as he slaps your ass with a tight grip. “Look at you so eager to bounce on my fucking dick and I’m the fucking slut” you moan in response, your nails digging into his back leaving moon shaped crescents behind as you scratch and abuse his back.
Your panting feeling the fatigue hit you as he suddenly stops you, “Turn around and face the pond” you stop, turning around as he slips himself back inside you, making you gasp once again. He’s locked your arms with his hand and begins to bounce you on him making your head roll back into him, moaning feverishly the sounds of his harsh thrusts being heard from across the garden.
You feel his hand wrap around your neck pulling your head against his as he nibbles at your ear, “you should see how fucking sexy you look from here….so….fucking….pretty” he thrusts with every word so cock drunk for your brain to comprehend not caring if you could get caught fucking out in the open.
“I bet your wishing that someone would catch us out in the open as I fuck the shit out of you” he mutters, feeling his bruised lips against your nape, leaving love bites all over marking you as his.
“oh my god fuck- felix I’m going to come” you warn, your hands going to grip his thighs, feeling yourself clenching around his dick before you cum with a loud whimper, the warm feeling of his spunk releasing into you as he slows down his thrusts.
“Fuck babe you’ve made such a mess all over me” your still panting, fatigue hitting you as your both sat in silence feeling his heart racing against your back.
You turn around meeting the brunettes gaze before speaking, “Don’t get use to it, this is the last time I’ll ever do anything remotely sexually with you Catton”
“Noted”
You raise a brow, dying for the burning question on your tongue to be answered, “Who told you i hated you”
He smirks, “Farleigh…. he told me when he was going through his drunken rant”
“I’m going to kill that boy when I see him”
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luveline · 4 months
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hey baby! happy christmas eve <3 i was wondering if we could get more shy!reader x spence, i know the people love bombshell (and i love her too!) but shy reader has such a special place in my heart :)
ty for requesting!! ♡ fem
The universe puts Spencer Reid so close to you and so often as a punishment for something. You thought you were getting a great gig, selected for the BAU younger than most, surrounded by the top agents in the field, top agents willing to forgive your inexperience just as long as you don't impede the flow. 
Well, you're impeding things. Badly. 
“What are you doing?” Emily asks. “You're not listening to a word I'm saying. I need your help on this.”
Her tone is kinder than her unimpressed stare. “Right. Right, sorry, I'm distracted.” 
“You think?” She frowns. “What's with you?” 
Spencer crouches just outside of your eyeline by the door. The police precinct the BAU dominates today is small and underfunded, leaving Spencer to map his geographical profile on the floor. This is fine, but the precinct is in Texas, where the weather is sweltering, and the way to survive is to strip. He wears a simple blue-white button up without a tie, his sleeves bunched above his elbows, and his hair clings to the damp back of his neck. 
“Nothing. Sorry.” 
Emily hums unhappily. You can't blame her for not believing you. 
You throw yourself back into your work, bouncing theories and details off of each other with Spencer's ear skewed your way. It's harder to talk while he's listening. Worse when Morgan arrives with lunch and insists that Spencer sit beside you so he can hog the vent above. 
“Did they have your diet coke?” Spencer asks. 
You gesture to your cup clumsily. Spencer opens the bag on the table to pull out your polystyrene boxes. He knows without asking what food you've ordered and places it neatly in front of you, passing you a plastic knife and fork before he so much as glances at his own meal. He's sickeningly thoughtful. 
“You okay?” he asks. “You're being really quiet today. Quieter than usual.” 
“I'm fine.” 
“Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod with a tight smile. You're worried if he keeps looking at you that you might burst into flames. 
Spencer puts his hand on your arm and squeezes. The warmth of his palm pressed to the flank of your arm, the gentle pressure, the pat before he pulls back. Your brain melts in your skull and the rest of the team arrive just in time to watch. 
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” JJ says, dropping her jacket on the table. Hotch gives you a concerned squint. 
“I'm fine.” 
“She keeps saying she's fine,” Spencer says, hand on your shoulder now, the lightest of touches. 
“But you're not really fine,” Rossi says, sitting across from you with a knowing look. He always looks like he knows everything. "What's wrong, bella?"
“I'm fine, I'm–” Spencer's touch becomes more insistent on yout shoulder, heat rushes to your face and chest, and suddenly you've lost sight of what you're doing, where your hands are, and you've knocked your soda over in a rush of ice. 
Spencer grabs it before it can tip entirely. Emily throws napkins at the mess. Your hands come up to your face suddenly, embarrassed, but the team laugh and hum their sympathies. 
“I got it,” Emily says. 
“Maybe you should try drinking some of that,” Morgan teases. 
“I'm really sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today.” 
“Well, don't get stressed about it. Just take a minute,” Hotch says. “Is that mine?” 
Spencer closes in, hand flat on your shoulder, inching down to the small of your back. He stops somewhere on your spine, his every touch like a bruise. He can't not know how nerve wracking it is to be near him, but of course he doesn't. He wouldn't put you through this if he did. 
“Your food's gonna get cold,” he says. 
You rub your eyes and promptly put your hands in your lap. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I just had a hot flush, I think.” 
“Loverboy's not getting to you, is he? Just ignore him,” Morgan says. 
“I'd prefer if you didn't ignore me,” Spencer says quietly, charmingly. 
“Reid, eat.” Hotch meets your eyes. In a room of profilers, he's the best. He's the shark. He probably knew how Reid made you feel before you did, and he's the boss, so he redirects his attention. “Y/N, you're alright?” You nod. “Then let's eat and talk about what we know so far.” 
You give up half way through your meal when Spencer's knee rests against yours and you can physically feel your heart at the contiguity. 
“Are you sure you're okay?” he asks you softly. 
His deodorant smells like mint. “I promise, I'm fine. I think it's just too hot.” 
He makes you a fan with a menu from the takeout and fans you with it. It works at first, but his smile prolongs your agony and it eventually prompts an adverse effect. 
Hotch has to send Spencer out to canvas with Rossi to get you to function again. 
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crimsonbubble · 6 months
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cw. nsfw, afab!reader, oral, overstimulation, sex toys, face sitting, mentions of squirting, inappropriate use of sento/powers, temperature play *not proofread, just pure horny
[the horny got to me,, can you also tell who my favs are🛐🛐🛐]
kinktober masterlist
MINORS DNI!!
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Johnny is a clit kisser. A pussy eating menace. You will not be able to push him away from you. He’ll happily drown himself in you if you let him. An avid enjoyer of face sitting. He has a nice nose, so you can sit on it if you want to. His face and lap are your personal thrones, sit where you want. He'd have a full-blown make-out session with your pussy, it's insane. But seriously he lives to eat you out. Always makes you cum at least twice with his mouth and fingers. Also loves to press a bullet vibrator to your clit while he tongue fucks you. And everyone's a squirter if you try hard enough.
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Kenshi seems like one to be impartial to giving or receiving oral. If you offer him head, he'll happily let you blow him. If you want head, he'll kneel before you. Anyway, this is about you. I'd say he wants eye contact but given his current situation, I'll refrain from it. Has used Sento's ancestral guidance to aid him tho. As long as he can feel your eyes on him, then he'll give you the most toe-curling head. Once fucked you with the handle of Sento while his mouth worked on your clit. He doesn't want to admit how much he liked to use the ancestral sword on you.
Bi-Han makes great use of his powers. Pressing a cold tongue against your clit, sucking the nub into his mouth. Cold hands are pinning your hips down to the bed when you attempt to squirm away from him. Grinding the pad of his thumb into your clit while he fucks you open on his tongue. Can't help but laugh as you struggle against him.
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Kuai Liang struggles to maintain his composure as he lapped at your slit. His restraint is wavering as you writhe and twitch under his ministrations. His body is radiating more heat than needed, leaving you sweaty and out of breath. His hands feel like they're going to burn you, the pain coming off in waves. Kuai would press a hand flat against your stomach, keeping your hips on the bed while his other hand held your thigh up. He'll leave nail marks on your skin before he dares to use his powers on you but sometimes he loses himself in you a little too quickly.
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Tomas wants you to sit on his face more than anything. Don’t worry about if he can breathe, just sit on his face. He gets really handsy. Like he’s moving from your thighs to your hips, to your waist, to your ass and up to your chest. Loves to grab any and every part of you because he loves how you shudder and squirm under his touch.
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Syzoth has an interesting tongue. Thin and forked, perfect to wrap around your sweet clit and flick over the sensitive bud as he pulls orgasms out of you. If you really want it, let him fuck you with his tongue. He'll hit every sweet spot that he can while grinding his nose into your clit. Savors the taste of you on his tongue for as long as you'll let him. He'll lick, suck and bite your thighs as he does so.
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Raiden is pretty straightforward but that doesn’t mean that he doesn't like to spark things up a little. Toys with your clit using his thumb and sends you little shocks here and there. While Johnny is a teasing and arrogant clit kisser, Raiden is a kinder and more loving clit kisser. Holds you down by your hips or by pressing his hands flat against your stomach. Enjoys eye contact so he can see how your face contorts in pleasure.
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Lui Kang is much stronger than you, so it’s easy for him to take over once you start getting tired. So when the speed of your grinds against his tongue slows down, he immediately takes hold of your hips and moves you himself. He devotes all his time to focusing on your pleasure, he wants to see you lose yourself before he even considers giving himself some relief.
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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DCxDP: Professional Protector of Love
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham to start a second branch of Fenton Works. At least on paper, in reality, he is there to try and fulfill his obsession now that Amity Park has become too peaceful once he was officially crowned king.
His parents had been overjoyed he wanted to help the family business grow. They had been super supportive the day Danny revealed he was a halfa to them.
His dad even sat him down to apologize for all the hateful things he said about Danny through the years. His mom had been a little less vocal emotionally but she had also given him a deeply severe apology.
When they learned that Danny had been the one to save the town over and over again from invading ghosts, Jack jumped for joy that his son was a ghost hunter and a darn good one at that. They joined Team Phantom, keeping the world safe, and helped Danny hide his hero activities.
It really felt like Danny was part of the family business. It was a blast, even though they remained the town quacks for the first time Danny didn't mind. His parents knew he was a Halfa and they loved him anyway. That's all he needed.
When Clockwork came knocking when he was sixteen to explain that ghosts had chosen to follow the rules of conquest thus Danny was next in line for the throne, to be crowned at twenty, the Fenton's celebrated like Danny had been selected to the best Ivy schools. It meant a lot since realistically Danny didn't think he was getting anywhere with his grades.
His grades were terrible but Jazz helped him get his high school diploma by the skin of his teeth, and he was content with it. Once he graduated high school Danny felt adrift.
Amity Park hadn't been attacked in years due to him being announced as heir of the throne and no ghost would disrespect him by attacking his haunt. It was poor manners to attack the King. Ghost cared a lot about etiquette. Many of them existed because of etiquette.
The thing is Danny's ghost's existence depends on his obsession with Protection so when the ghost stops giving him something to protect Danny falls into his sub-obsession: love.
Sub-obsessions were like a secondary focus for ghosts. It was something that could grab their attention and even help them keep form but not as strongly as their main. It had its cons and pros like most things in life.
For one it wasn't as straightforward as the main obsessions. Protecting someone weaker in any situation was easier to physically do than trying to explain love and get it to appear in life. There are multiple versions of love, which makes things a little better, but Danny still has to depend on others for that to fuel him.
Danny likes to think of main and secondary obsessions in terms of running and jogging. Both got you to where you needed to go. One was just faster, and much more draining to do in the long run. The other took patience and tenacity but was rewarding over time.
The other notable characteristic of sub-obsessions was that they only appeared to ghosts who had an elemental core. Most had their common core- a core portraying to how a ghost came to be, either by death or being born in the Zone.
Danny was a rare few that had an ice core form around his common core. Most elemental ghosts were considered nobility in the zone and their rare appearance granted them special privileges.
One such privilege was attending high-class galas in the zone where he dined with the most important of beings. This was before he even knew he was going to be Ghost King.
It was at one of these Galas that he met Cupid- yes that Cupid- the ghost of love happily explained his Sub-Obession after his own core recognized a kinder spirit. Cupid said that if Danny could not be part of the love he could help others find the different ways love worked and that would help hold him over.
It was a challenge but Danny figured he could use the Greek words of love to help him satisfy his obsession.
He found that if he let his core guide him, the answer to any form of love issue would appear to him. Like his ghost breath activating, it was his sight of people who glow in different colors, telling him what type of love they were currently feeling.
Eros: romantic, passionate love colored red.
Philia: intimate, authentic friendship colored yellow
Storge: unconditional, familial love colored green
Philautia: compassionate self-love colored blue
 Agápe: empathetic, universal love colored white.
Danny wanted to keep his secret identity as Phantom under wraps openly told being he could see "auras" that explain what to do.
Some called him crazy like his parents, but that changed the day after Danny spotted the soft red mixed with a chipper yellow glow around Dash and Kwan. He had pulled both individually to the side to talk about it- Kwan had been less hostile than Dash on his meddling- and only after successfully making them confess and start dating did people notice.
He became known around Casper High as the go-to person whenever they needed advice in any relationship. He even helped Sam finally connect with her parents.
Danny had a gift for it- and whenever he made them feel more love of any kind the more powerful did he feel. It was the same rush as rescuing someone but darn if it didn't have a kick to it. And everyone in Amity Park starts tripping over themselves to talk to him and hear his opinion on the issue.
Sam jokingly told him to start charging people. Tucker took the joke as gospel and created him an email and an online store. He had linked Danny's store to Fenton Works- since the business license was so open-ended- and Danny Fenton, Professional Protector of Love worked under Fenton Works before they finished their junior year.
Danny adored working as a protector of love, but his main obsession needed fulfillment so Jazz suggested a move. Take his love work to the most dangerous city in the county. Protect people by night as Phantom and by day give the downdraught citizens some help in bettering their relationships.
His parents helped him pick out a store with an apartment on the top floor, Tucker as both tech support and a clerk for his small store section of Love Charms, while Sam joined up as a receptionist.
His two best friends were going to be his roommates while they studied at Gothum U for their degrees. He would pay them but until he had a solid client base it wouldn't be a lot.
Both seemed fine with the arrangement since Danny was letting them live rent-free with their own rooms.
Jazz and his parents remained in Amity Park but they swore to visit whenever they could.
It took seven months of work but the store was ready- he styled it to look like ancient Greek Cupid-inspired decore. He also had to get all the legal work out of the way and get familiar with the city before he tried to depute as Phantom.
He figured that for now he could stick to protecting humans from ghosts, vengeful spirits, and the busload of curses that cluttered Gotham. Danny would leave human crime to the Bats while he settled. He would step in if he happened upon a situation but he wouldn't go out of his way to find it.
"Danny, do you need anything for the aura reading?" Sam asks typing away at her desk computer. She took her job seriously. Tucker was typing away on his personal laptop, likely working on some homework. "The first customer is already in the consultation room."
Danny adjusted his pure white suit with small colored lines. He had it specially made to have all the colors he saw in love as his uniform. He wanted to give off the Prince vibe of his ghost status.
"I'm good!" He calls back to her, walking down the soundproof room- to give his clients the privacy they deserve- and giving his best professional smile at the boy sitting on the plush couches inside. He designed the room to look like a Greek palace and he hopes the others appreciate.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne. I hear you need professional help with protecting the various types loves in your life?"
"Tsk." Damian Wayne, in all his twelve-year-old glory, raises his chin. "I am capable of protecting them just fine. I merely... need further information on how to show my fondness is all."
Damian glowed green- which meant he needed help connecting to his family or at the very least learning how to talk to them. Danny's smile widens. "You came to the right place for that. Let's start the ready yeah?"
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helluvapoison · 2 months
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How do you think Adam x reader x Lute(poly) work work out? Because I don’t think Adam would mind having a poly relationship if it’s with Lute because they trust each other, but I wonder how it would even go down to begin with
Adam x Reader x Lute
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
• Honestly? It could go either way starting with Adam and you or Adam and Lute. He’s a greedy bastard, one lover isn’t enough for him! He’s owed it actually! Considering you know who stole his first two wives
• (This is a lie. Deep, deep— seriously however deep your thinking, it’s deeper— down he doesn’t feel like he deserves any)
• Regardless, Lute doesn’t care for you. She tolerates you for Adam’s sake but the difference in how she treats you both is enormous. He can get away with murder— literally! Where you can’t make a smoothie without doing it wrong
• In a way Lute sees all her sisters as potential, future competitors. She rivaled with Vaggie over Adam’s attention until she finally had it all for herself. Who’s to say that won’t happen again? That she won’t be the one to be tossed aside next time? Then you came along and made her fear so much more plausible. So you’re no different than them
• Except you were
• When Adam asked you to bring food, you never failed to ask what Lute wanted. You set three plates during date night or made reservations for three. You bought a third controller for Adam’s game that she never wanted to play in case she changed her mind
• When Adam knocked both of you out of bed in his sleep, twice, you sat up with a smile aimed right at Lute. Flaring, she was ready for you to banish her to the couch. You didn’t. You joked that you three would need an even bigger mattress. In the darkness of night she saw you in a new light, gently illuminated by the stars peaking in through the window
• Adam was fucking ecstatic to see you both having coffee that morning, throwing his arms around your necks, “Fucking finally! Aww, look at my two hotties getting along!”
• Lute didn’t open up overnight but immediately her treatment of you took off. Turns out she did have manners and used them in a much kinder, more genuine tone instead of sarcastically and only when Adam told her to. She praised you for little things even you didn’t notice, walked you to and from wherever you needed to go. So this is what it was like to be on her good side?
• Adam calls you two Double Trouble when you “bitch” at him
• You’re better at shrugging off his retorts
“You love us.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’d love you more if you didn’t nag me,” He mumbles
Lute’s head snaps in his direction, “What was that?”
“I said yeah, I love you! Fuck, get off my dick already.”
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astridthevalkyrie · 25 days
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xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."
"how many more are there?"
"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."
"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.
with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."
he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.
sleep can wait another day.
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zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"what do you think?"
he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"
"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."
he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.
"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"
predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.
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rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.
"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.
he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."
a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."
he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."
you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."
"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.
"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"
his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.
"okay."
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heartateasee · 6 days
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“Intraoffice”
ceo!harry x you
Word Count: 13k
Warnings: a handjob, some comeplay, fingering (f receiving), brief spitting and protected sex.
Plot: Your previous CEO was retiring, and Harry is taking his place. Neither of you were expecting each other to be so young, and after while, you begin to develop a flirty friendship within the workplace. One business trip causes all those feelings to come to fruition.
(I stumbled across this TikTok account the other night, and it caused me to spiral. So, this is the result of that 🤭 Big thank you to my bestie @finelinenina for giving me some ideas for this one as well 🫶🏻)
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
To say that you were going into work nervous today would be an understatement. Today was the day you were going to meet the new CEO of the company, and you were praying to whatever was above that he was kinder than the current CEO - your boss. It wasn’t that he was necessarily a mean man, Mr. Crawford, but he was older, and he liked for his assistant to not be seen or heard. He expected for you to get the job down silently, and while being invisible. It took you a little bit of time, but for the most part, you had your day down to where you and Mr. Crawford never crossed paths - something he very much appreciated.
His coffee was on his desk, as well as a print out of his meetings for the day before he even stepped foot into the office, and by the time he did, you were already behind your own desk working on other tasks. When lunchtime came, you had his lunch hot and ready, once again on his desk, before his late morning meeting finished. And then when it was time for his afternoon coffee, you snuck it into his office during his after lunch meeting.
The other assistants commented on how odd it was that Mr. Crawford made you arrange everything while he was out of his office, and you felt the same way, but it was just routine now. Hell, you had been doing it for the past four years since you were offered the position right after you had completed your internship. It was just normal now.
So this morning, you placed two cups of coffee on Mr. Crawford’s desk as you knew the replacement CEO would be with him, and you printed off two copies of the day's meetings since he would also be shadowing him all day. You didn’t really mind if the new CEO wanted you to be invisible as well, but you hoped that maybe you would start having a little bit of appreciation thrown your way instead of just being met with silence.
Just as you had turned on your heel, going to exit the office, you heard Mr. Crawford’s voice which caused your eyes to widen. He was earlier than usual today, and that caused your heart to race a bit. The last thing you needed was for him to scold you in front of your new boss.
“And just in here is where your office will be,” Mr. Crawford stepped into the doorway, and you stood there like a deer in headlights - fiddling with your fingers behind your back. “Oh, Y/N, I was hoping we’d catch you.”
You had to force off an expression of confusion at his words as you knew he was probably trying to make himself come off as a better boss. “Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’ve just placed your coffees on the desk, as well as your schedules for the day.”
“Thank you,” he nodded at you before moving out of the way, and it was as if time stood still once the man behind him was revealed. “This is Mr. Harry Styles. He’s going to be your new boss as of Monday.”
He was young - way younger than you anticipated. With cropped curls and moss colored eyes, you truly found yourself in a bit of a trance looking at him. He had plush, pillowy looking lips with a nose that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Fuck, it was honestly as if every part of him had been sculpted by the gods.
“Mr. Styles, so nice to meet you,” you extended your hand to him. “I’m Y/N. I’m looking forward to working so closely together.”
Harry smiled at you, and once he took your hand, you immediately felt a warmth spreading all over your body. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Y/N. Thank you for the coffee.”
You felt your face flush at his politeness before your hold dropped. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” you flicked your eyes between the two men before giving them a nod. “Well, Mr. Crawford, you know where to find me if you need me.”
As you went to leave the office, you could feel Harry’s eyes following you, and you peeked over your shoulder - confirming that he was indeed still staring. You subconsciously bit down on your bottom lip as you quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention from Mr. Crawford. Once you were back at your desk, you let out a deep breath as you stared at your computer screen.
Harry wasn’t at all what you were expecting, and little did you know that you weren’t what he was expecting either. 
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
It had been a couple of weeks now that Harry had been your boss, and he honestly hadn’t seen or heard you much. Occasionally you would have to call into his office to let him know that he had a call, or he’d approach your desk if he needed to have a meeting rearranged, but other than that, the situation was very much like the one when you worked for Mr. Crawford.
This morning, however, Harry made it a point to get to the office almost ten minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to try to catch you, to see exactly why you had been avoiding him. He wasn’t really aware of the fact that this is how you did things previously considering Mr. Crawford seemed more than elated to have caught you during your initial introduction. He thought that maybe you didn’t like him, and if that was the case, he needed to make things right.
He greeted a few people as he walked through the lobby, heading towards his office where he hoped you’d either be, or he’d be able to already be there before you came in. As he got closer to his door, he could hear slight shuffling, and he quietly poked his head in to see you organizing his meeting schedule, while placing another stack of papers down beside it. He figured those were the contracts that had been finalized for him to sign. His coffee was still in your hand as you did this, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.
“Good morn-”
Harry couldn’t finish his greeting as a scream left your lips, and you jumped, spilling his coffee all over the front of your dress. You gasped as the hot liquid seeped through the fabric, and the paper cup was quickly dropped to the ground as you tried to pull your dress away from your chest. Thankfully you were wearing one with a high neckline so you wouldn’t be exposing yourself, but the material was a cream color, something you normally knew better than to wear given how clumsy you were.
“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed as he walked forward, and without even thinking, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, assisting you with pulling the fabric away from your skin. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” you sucked in a deep breath as the burning sensation began to fade away, and you swallowed harshly. “It’s fine. I’m a klutz anyway. I’ll make sure to get you another coffee as soon as possible. Thank god it didn’t get on your documents.”
Harry’s eyebrows narrowed as you spoke, and he shook his head. “I could care less about the documents. I’m not worried about them or another coffee. How’s your chest? Did it burn your skin?”
Your eyes darted down to where only you could see the exposed skin from you dress still being pulled, and you shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it,” you dropped your hands, causing Harry’s to leave your wrists, and the damp dress clung to your abdomen once again. 
“Please, take the morning to go home and change and to regather. I can’t tell you how sorry-”
“Oh, I won’t need to go home. I keep a spare change of clothes in my desk. Like I said,” you spoke as you lifted your hand above your head before pointing down at yourself. “Klutz.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your gesture, and he pursed his lips to the side. “Alright then, how about this? You go ahead and change, and then we’ll go out for some breakfast so I can make this up to you.”
“Breakfast? But you have a meeting at-”
“Reschedule it,” Harry said as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re going to the diner down the street. You’re my new meeting.”
Your stomach formed a knot when you heard his words, and you finally found it within yourself to clamp your jaw shut. “Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ll just be a few minutes. I won’t keep you waiting long.”
“Y/N,” Harry stepped forward, and you looked up at him with round eyes. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait however long if it means you’ll feel comfortable again.”
Words escaped you at that point. This was your boss, and you had never had a man show this much concern over you before, not within the first couple weeks of knowing each other at least.
“Mhmm,” you hummed out a squeak before quickly leaving his office. 
You made your way over to your desk to retrieve the extra black trousers, and the maroon colored jumper stashed away in your bottom drawer before making your way into the employee bathroom.
Pulling your stained dress up, you grimaced as it stuck to you slightly since it had just barely begun to dry. You grabbed some paper towels and ran them under the water for a few seconds before beginning to wipe over your chest, and some of your abdomen until you were rid of all the sticky substance.
You pulled on your clothes quickly, not wanting to make Harry wait too much longer, and you exited the bathroom.
Once Harry saw you back at your desk, he left his office as you made the phone call to reschedule his morning meeting to tomorrow instead since you knew he had an opening. You watched as he grabbed your dress from where you had it laying over the back of your chair- eyebrows narrowing as you saw him drape it over the crease of his arm.
You hung up the phone and placed the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing with my dress?”
Harry smirked softly before tilting his head towards the elevators. “Ready to go?”
You nodded in response, and then the two of you were down and out of the building - heading down the street.
“Which diner did you want to go to? I can call ahead and make sure a table is ready,” you stated, fumbling to get your cell out of your purse.
“That’s not necessary, Y/N. If we have to wait, we’ll wait,” Harry shrugged as he started to guide you down a side street, and you began to look around.
“Mr. Styles, I’m not trying to overstep here, but I don’t think there’s a diner down this street.”
“I’m not heading for the diner right now,” he shook his head, and you only walked a few more paces before he was opening up a door to a shop.
He lifted his eyebrows in encouragement for you to step in first as he held the door open, and you did so. Harry followed close behind, and you watched as he approached the counter.
“I’ll need this garment dry cleaned, please,” you heard him state before he was handing your dress over to the elderly woman helping him. “Do you think it could be finished by tomorrow?”
“Oh, Harry, I’ll have it done for you by this evening,” the woman cooed, reaching across the counter to pinch one of his cheeks.
You watched him smile, his deep dimples denting into his skin as he left out a soft laugh. “You’re too good to me, Muriel. We’ll be back whenever you give me a call.”
At this point, you were floored. Not only was he so apologetic about the spill that he practically begged you to join him for breakfast, now he was getting your dress dry cleaned?
Once you stepped back out onto the street, you started back in the direction you came from.
“You really didn’t need to do that,” you told him as you pursed your lips to the side. “I could’ve just taken care of it at home.”
“Nonsense,” Harry said, glancing over at you for a moment as you crossed the street. “If I hadn’t startled you, the coffee wouldn’t have been spilled, therefore, I wanted to make it right.”
“I really need you to stop blaming yourself for that,” you laughed softly as you continued down the sidewalk - not realizing where you were stepping was a bit unlevel.  
It caused your ankle to slightly roll, and you let out a yelp as you tripped. You braced yourself for impact with your lids shut tight, but instead you were met with a solid chest and an arm around your waist. You blinked your eyes open to see Harry looking down at you - his eyebrows up on his forehead.
“You weren’t joking when you said you were a klutz, were you?”
You felt your cheeks flush before shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”
You both shared a chuckle as you separated, and you were grateful to see that you were approaching a diner not too long after your stumble. The last thing you needed was to trip over another uneven sidewalk, or even worse, your own feet. 
Just like before at the dry cleaners, Harry held the door open for you, and you immediately walked over to the host stand - a habit of yours to just do this on your own. Any time Mr. Crawford held a dinner at a restaurant, it had always been your responsibility to make sure they knew you were checking in for their reservation.
“Hello, we’d like a table for two please,” you greeted her with a smile, and watched as she gathered a couple menus before nodding her head for you to follow.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry watching you intently, and you tried to swallow down the nerves starting to bubble in your chest. You had never seen someone look at you the way he did before. You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, to be honest, but all you knew was that it made you nervous. 
The host set your menus down on the table of a booth, and you and Harry both slipped into the opposite benches. You tried your best to focus on narrowing down what you wanted, but this was an unusual circumstance. Never once were you asked by your boss to go to breakfast just the two of you, and as appreciative as you were that Harry had asked you, it was unfamiliar territory.
“Do you see something that you think you’d want?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, and you flashed your eyes up to him over the top of your menu to see that his were already on you. “If not, we can go somewhere else.”
His need to make sure you were constantly comfortable was so foreign that you could hardly wrap your head around it. You realized it had been a few moments since he had asked his question, and you had remained silent. “Oh no,” you shook your head before clearing your throat. “This is perfect. I see a couple things that are peaking my interest actually.”
Harry smiled at you, and you felt a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Get whatever you’d like.”
It was only a few minutes later that a server came over to the table, and Harry ordered a carafe of coffee for the two of you, as well as two waters before extending his hand over to you - asking you silently to order your food first.
“I’ll take the breakfast sampler, please,” you stated, looking over everything that came on it so you didn’t miss any of the options. “I’ll take one sausage and one bacon with that, sunny side up eggs with white buttered toast and hashbrown casserole, please.”
Handing your menu off to the server, you turned your attention back to Harry. His eyes were darting over the laminated paper in his hand before he looked to the server. “You know what? I’ll do the same please, but instead of the sausage and bacon, could I have a bowl of fruit with that?”
The server nodded, taking Harry’s menu as well before walking away from the table.
“For a second I thought you were going to break your vegetarian status,” you said playfully as you leaned forward onto the table - intertwining your fingers together.
Harry mimicked your actions, and you caught sight of the cross tattoo on his hand. You knew he had another right along his wrist as you could see glimpses of the ink sometimes, but you always wanted to ask him if he had any others. 
“As much as I do miss bacon, I’ve been going strong for too many years to break it now,” he smirked, and you were slowly feeling more comfortable with the one on one time together.
You weren’t a nervous individual by nature, to be honest, however, you did tend to be particularly quiet. You’re sure a lot of that had to do with the fact that’s what was asked of you for the past four years. Once conversation struck, and you were interested, you could hold a proper interaction.
“Didn’t mean to tempt you,” you giggled before biting down on your bottom lip.
Harry noticed that was something you must do subconsciously, but he found it alluring. 
The server came back with your two waters, two mugs and the carafe of coffee - setting it all down on the table alongside sugar packets and cream. You and Harry both went to reach for the carafe, fingers brushing against each other, and you pulled your hand back quickly.
“Sorry,” you muttered, dropping your hands into your lap, but Harry held that coy half smile as he poured you each a cup of coffee.
“How do you take yours?” Harry asked, as he set the carafe towards the end of the table against the wall to have it out of the way.
“Two sugars and just a splash of cream, please.”
Your eyes were fixed on his every move as you watched him pour the contents into the mug before he pushed it over your way. He pulled his own mugs towards him - not putting anything in it, as always. 
“Thank you,” both of your hands cupped the warm mug, and you fought off a hum at just how wonderful the heat felt against your palms.
The hustle and bustle of the diner blanketed over the two of you, and for a minute your attention was caught by just how quickly all the servers were moving around to make sure everything was getting taken care of in a timely manner.
“Y/N,” Harry saying your name caught your attention, and you looked back over to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you gave him a nod. “Yeah, of course.”
“Have I done something to make you not like me?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.
Your eyes widened at his question, and you quickly shook your head. “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”
“Well, I never see you.”
You were caught so off guard. Him not seeing you made him think you didn’t like him? You thought you were doing him a favor by not being an interruption. 
“Well, I just thought that maybe Mr. Crawford had talked to you before he left, and maybe you wanted me to keep doing things the way he liked,” you explained.
“Which was?”
It was then you realized that Mr. Crawford didn’t tell Harry at all about how he really didn’t want you being present around him. It was a bit shocking to you that he wouldn’t have mentioned that, considering a lot of businessmen had that preference, and it seemed to be a little hard to find assistants who would obey that rule so well. 
“He didn’t really like seeing me,” you shrugged. “Or hearing me either. That’s why I always have your coffee, schedule and any documents you may need to take care of on your desk and ready to go before you’re there. It’s also why your lunch is delivered while you’re in your late morning meeting.”
An expression you really couldn’t make out rested on Harry’s face, and since he didn’t speak, you continued.
“If I had to run things to his house after work, I’d use my key to let myself in, drop off whatever he needed, and regardless of whether or not he or his wife were home, I would be in and out. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did, it was easy.”
You watched as Harry lifted a hand to run it through the front of his curls, and you forced yourself to look away from the flex of his bicep as he did so. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that’s how you had to do things when he was around. I can promise you that’s not how you have to be with me.”
Slipping your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” you giggled before looking at him again. “It was easier with him because I had his routine down. I was guessing every day with you.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your giggle. It was hard for him to believe someone couldn’t want you to work around them and do your job properly. From the little bits of you he had been able to see, you seemed like the perfect employee. 
“So with that being said,” Harry started. “I’d like my morning cup of coffee after I’ve arrived at the office.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry held up a finger to stop you. “And I’d like to prepare it myself in the kitchen with you, as you prepare your own. Then from there, we can go back to my office, and you can walk me through the meeting schedule for the day. You don’t have to worry about ordering me lunch anymore, I can take care of that myself.”
“What about your afternoon cup of coffee?” You blurted out, making Harry smile even wider than he already was.
“Can I be honest with you?” He waited for you to nod before proceeding. “I was only drinking about a quarter of it before dumping it out. Coffee that late in the day would keep me wired all night.”
“Mr. Styles,” you gasped, jaw dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It seemed a bit impolite, you know? I felt bad that you had gone through the trouble of making it for me, and I didn’t want to just waste it. It also felt wrong to tell you to stop when I thought it was something you enjoyed doing for me.”
You wanted to respond again, but the server was back - placing the appropriate sampler in front of the two of you. You both thanked them as they walked off, and you shook your head as you reviewed the newfound information from him in your head.
“Mr. Styles, I-”
“Y/N.”
“Yes?” You looked at him as he sent you one of the most gentle looks you’ve ever seen.
“You can call me Harry.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
In the few months that followed your breakfast “meeting” with Harry, the two of you developed a really great work relationship. The truth was, the two of you knew that this was a full on friendship as well at this point, but keeping things professional was necessary. If you texted after hours, it was about work only, and if you saw each other outside of the office, it was at work oriented events.
Regardless of that, you each had gotten in the habit of doing little things here and there for each other. You never made a big deal about it, neither of you would tell the other it was you who did it, but you both just knew. 
The first time Harry did something unexpected for you was about a month after your new work agreement. That morning you had noticed that the pink peonies you had in your vase on your desk were on their last leg, and you frowned as you tossed them into the trash. 
“Maybe this time I can get yellow ones,” you had told Stella, the assistant who worked at the desk right next to yours. “I wanted them the first time around, but they were all out.”
That afternoon when you came back from having lunch with Stella, you saw that your vase was full of yellow peonies. Your mouth gaped as you raced over to them, running the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. It was then you caught sight of Harry leaning against the doorway of his office out of the corner of your eye, and you looked over to him. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he gave you a smile, and you stared into his eyes as you gave him a knowing one back.
A couple of weeks ago you walked into the office on a Monday after having a relaxing weekend of self-care, and as you met Harry in the kitchen for your usual cups of coffee, you watched his eyes light up as he took you in. “You got your hair done,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You noticed?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you asked. You were so surprised.
“Yeah,” he nodded, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip. “It looks really good, Y/N.”
You had blushed furiously that day that you were surprised you didn’t combust into flames.
The vibe between the two of you had floated over into flirting territory probably more times than it should, but you both were responsible enough not to take it any further. Sometimes the flirting involved little remarks, or long glances, and even sometimes Harry would take your breath away with a small squeeze to your hip as he moved behind you to reach for something.
You both felt incredibly comfortable around each other, but regardless of that, you had turned Harry’s invitation down for dinner at his house a couple of times. He would only ever offer when you would come by his house after work to drop something off for him, or when you needed to pick something up to be delivered over the weekend. As much as you wanted to tell him yes, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing either of you needed was someone finding out that you were spending personal time outside of work. 
Of course he was the CEO, the one calling most of the shots, but he still had his own people to answer to. You didn’t want to get the two of you in trouble, and Harry didn’t either - that’s why he understood every time you would decline. No matter how many times you had rejected the offer, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to stop asking, and part of him hoped that one day would give in.
Harry had noticed so many little things about you during the time you had spent together. The way you ate crunchy cheetos with chopsticks so you didn’t get your fingers dirty while working was adorable to him, and he picked up on the way you would slightly scrunch up your nose when you were working on a spreadsheet that was proving to be troublesome. 
He noticed the way you came into work each week with a different color of polish coating your impeccably manicured nails. When you told him that you did them yourself one day when he complimented the small polka dot designs you had adorning each of your ring fingers, he was floored. He had become completely infatuated with your presence - if he was going to be completely honest. 
That’s why as he stood at the bar with a pint in his hand and his eyes set on you speaking with a man he didn’t recognize, he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The office had gone out for drinks at the usual spot on a Friday afternoon to celebrate an easy and successful week, and most of the time you were attached to Harry’s hip, however, there seemed to be a law firm that was also occupying said bar.
You had been speaking to this same man for about fifteen minutes now, and Harry watched as he moved slightly closer to you over time. You weren’t a very big drinker, Harry knew that. You’d always have one cocktail while out with everyone, and you’d sip on it the entire time - finishing it up just a few minutes before you’d announce you were leaving.
So, when Harry saw the man gesturing to your drink, clearly asking if you’d like another, his hand tensed around his cold glass before he brought it up to take a large swig of his beer.
He saw that you politely declined, and luckily the man honored it and didn't push. If he had, there’d be a serious problem.
For the remaining hour that you both were at the bar, Harry had managed to get himself properly wasted. It made him sick to watch you openly flirt with some else when all he wanted to do was to be able to do that with you. 
It wasn’t until you walked over to the bar to stand next to Stella for a moment to pay your tab that the man walked back over to his friends. Harry watched him closely, and his stomach churned as he watched the way the man tapped each of his colleagues and pointed at you. The men surrounding him, both younger and older, eyed you up and down like a piece of meat. 
Harry quickly asked to pay his tab, scribbling a hefty tip and his signature on the receipt just in time as he saw you walking back over to the asshole who had every ounce of your attention. After what Harry had just seen him do, there was no way he was going to let you leave with him.
Just as the man was beginning to ask for just your number, Harry practically stumbled up next to you, and your eyes widened as you quickly wrapped an arm around his torso - having him fully lean into your side.
“Harry, you alright?” You asked with narrowed brows.
As you studied him, you could see that he was more drunk than you had ever seen him. Hell, you had really only seen him tipsy before. This was extremely out of the ordinary for him.
“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he slurred just slightly, but he still managed to stay poised. “Jus’ wanted to come and check on you.”
Your eyes flitted over to the man, and you sent him a weak smile. “This your boyfriend?” The man asked, and you heard Harry try to stifle a laugh in the back of his throat before you saw a look take over his eyes - as if a light switch had gone off.
“Actually, I am,” Harry nodded, and your lips parted at that response. “I am Y/N’s boyfriend, and if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time we went home.”
The man scoffed, and Harry watched as his eyes now looked over you with disgust. “Pretty cheap of you to flirt with me for the past hour when your boyfriend’s in the same building, but I guess I kind of understand if he gets this wasted and ignores you all night.”
“Hey, that’s enough!” You snapped, speaking up before Harry had a chance to - even though his mouth was open to do so. His body was clearly working on a delayed system. “You don’t get to speak about him like you know him. You don’t know him at all.”
Shaking your head, you tightened your arm around Harry’s waist as he threw one of his around your shoulders, and as you began to walk away, Harry turned his head to look at the man with a smirk.
“Oh, and one more thing!” You spoke up as you turned around, talking a bit louder so the man could hear you over the music, causing the attention from some of the other patrons to be on you. “Your cologne fucking reeks - smells like a cat pissed all over your suit.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he let out the loudest cackle you had heard within your time together as you pushed open the front door to the bar. As you headed down the street, you could barely walk in a straight line due to having your tall British boss clinging to your side.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” You told him as you approached your car that was parallel parked on the street. Using your free hand, you fished your keys from your purse and unlocked the car before helping Harry into the passenger seat.
Once he was good and buckled, you shut the door and rounded over to your side. You slipped inside and turned on the car as you felt Harry’s eyes lingering on the side of your face. 
“Let me know if you’re going to get sick or something, alright? I’ve never seen you drink this much before,” you commented as you pulled out of your spot and started down the roads towards his house.
Harry didn’t live too far from here, probably around five minutes maximum, so you really didn’t mind taking him home.
“Yeah, but ‘m not gonna get sick. I have an iron stomach,” Harry stated as he patted his palm against his covered abdomen. “Haven’t puked from drinking in years.”
The car ride was silent except for the light music playing on the radio, and at first you thought Harry had fallen asleep, but when you glanced over, he was just staring at his hands in his lap. 
Once you pulled into his driveway, you got out and went over to his side to assist him - supporting him in almost every way as you stepped up onto his porch. You got his keys out of his suit jacket to unlock the door before the two of you were heading inside.
“Didn’t like that guy talking to you,” Harry mumbled as you tossed his keys into the bowl on the table near the door.
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” you laughed sarcastically. You weren’t irritated by any means, but it was all just a little confusing to you why he was acting that way. “Called yourself my boyfriend.”
Harry hummed as he nodded, as you started up his stairs to where you knew his bedroom was. “I could be, you know?”
“What?” You looked over at him quickly, stopping the progress you were making on the stairs.
You soon realized that was a big mistake as Harry started to sway, and your eyes widened as you started leaning backwards. “Okay, hey!” You exclaimed, pulling him forward again before continuing to walk. “About sent us down the damn stairs, Harry.”
“I said, I could be your boyfriend,” Harry repeated himself, completely ignoring the almost tumble once you got him into his bedroom.
“Alright, big guy,” you couldn’t help but let out an actual giggle now as you patted him on the chest. “I’m going to lay you out some pajamas, and you’re going to change while I go downstairs and get you some medicine and some water. Then I’m gonna get you tucked in and leave.”
“I mean it,” Harry’s eyebrows narrowed, clearly offended even in his drunken state that you weren’t taking him seriously. “I like you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you’re bright - you light up a whole room when you walk into it.”
Never once did you know that’s how he felt, but you obviously couldn’t be sure given his current alcohol level. “Harry,” you said softly as you guided him to sit on the end of his bed. “We can talk about this more when you’re sober, alright?”
You almost felt guilty. If this really was how he felt, you were sure this wouldn’t be the type of situation for him to tell you. You knew how Harry was just from the little things he had done for you over your time together. He was sentimental, and he treasured when things were genuine. This isn’t how he would want this to go.
“No, no,” Harry reached forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him which caused you to gasp. He rested his forehead against your stomach, but you kept your arms limp by your sides. “The thing is, ‘m too much of a coward to tell you when I’m sober. Never been so intimidated by someone in my life.”
You? Intimidating?
Yeah, he was definitely letting the pints and shots he had do the talking.
“Look, I can initiate the conversation next time we see each other that way we can ease into it, but you’re going to regret doing this right now.”
Lifting his head, Harry stared up at you with his droopy green eyes. He moved one hand to rest on your hip, while his other just barely reached to wrap around the back of your neck. “Thought about kissing you,” his lips rolled into his mouth for just a moment before continuing to speak. “Think about it all the time.”
The truth was, you had thought about kissing him too, and you’re sure if you were the one spilling your guts right now, you’d use the same phrasing - you thought about it all the time.
“Come on, H,” the nickname you rarely used slipped from your mouth as you tried to calm him down a bit more. “Let me get you some pajamas so you can change.”
You wrapped your hands around each of his wrists to break his hold on you, and you walked over to his dresser to pull out a pair of joggers and a shirt. 
By the time you turned around, Harry was on his back still fully clothed with his mouth wide open. In the twenty seconds it had taken you to get him proper pajamas, he had passed out.
“You’ve gotta be joking,” you mumbled as you walked back over to him, tossing the pajamas onto the top of the dresser before doing so.
Lowering yourself to the ground, you untied each of his shoes and slipped them off of his feet before tossing them to the side. You stood up, tugging his body around so you could at least get his suit jacket off. Unfortunately, the rest of it would be staying on. You didn’t feel comfortable changing him without his permission as this situation had never happened before.
With every bit of strength you could muster up, you pulled Harry further back onto the bed so that his head was on one of his pillows, and you tucked him underneath the sheets. 
You went downstairs to grab the glass of water that you had talked about before, as well as two Tylenol and a granola bar. Going up to his bedroom one last time, you placed all the items onto his nightstand, and retrieved his phone out of his jacket pocket to plug it in before you exited the house all together.
You weren’t sure if Harry was going to remember this evening or not. And you weren’t really sure if you wanted him to.
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
“Y/N, are you almost ready?” You heard Harry’s voice, followed by a tapping of knuckles against your hotel room door.
You and Harry were out of town for a work event, and you were just putting the finishing touches on your look, however, you hadn’t been able to put your dress on yet as you just finished curling your hair.
Making sure that your robe was tied securely around you, you walked over to the door and opened it - your jaw immediately dropping as you saw how delicious Harry looked in his suit.
“Oh my,” you gasped before you could stop yourself, but once your eyes met his, you cleared your throat. “You look spectacular, Harry.”
You could see a pink tint washing over his cheeks, and it was then you noticed the garment bag he had draped over the crease of one of his arms.
“Thank you,” he smiled before tilting his chin towards the bag. “I know you probably brought your own dress, but I saw this the other day when I picked up my suit, and it reminded me of you.”
You watched as he extended the garment bag to you, and you shook your head. “Harry, I don’t know if I could-”
“Please, Y/N, it would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it. If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to.”
You wanted to ask how he knew your size, but you figured he made a mental note when taking your dress to the dry cleaners that one day. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you took the bag from him. “I just need to change and then I’m ready to go.”
Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you down in the lobby. Do you want me to order you a quick drink?”
“That’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’ll have a drink at the event.”
Harry knew that would probably be the only one you’d have for the evening given your track record. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
You kept your eyes on Harry’s retreating frame as he walked down the hotel hallway, and you sighed as you shut the door.
It had been a few weeks since Harry’s confession after the bar. When you saw him at work on Monday, he apologized profusely for how drunk he had gotten, but he also thanked you for getting him home. You didn’t want to just flat out ask if he remembered what happened by reciting exactly what he said, so you asked him if he remembered almost pulling the both of you down the stairs instead.
That’s when he confessed he didn’t remember a thing after approaching you at the bar. Since he didn’t remember anything, you decided that you’d leave it. It was probably for the best anyway, and you didn’t want to embarrass him.
But the truth was, Harry lied.
He remembered everything, which shocked him given how drunk he was, and he was so ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe that he rambled to you about how he felt, how he wanted to be your boyfriend. Not to mention he spilled that he thought about kissing you all the time.
Harry knew it was wrong to lie to you, considering it wasn’t like you could forget what happened. Technically neither could he, but at least he could act like he did.
The fact that you accepted the dress made him happy. There had been a weight in his chest since everything happened because things didn’t feel like they used to between the two of you, and he had no one to blame for that by himself. He didn’t lie about how he came to find the dress though. He really did see it in the window a couple shops down from where he got his suit. He just hoped that you liked it.
Leaning against the bar in the lobby, Harry had ordered himself a short glass of tequila on the rocks - just something to ease his nerves as he waited for you. He was hoping the fact that it was just the two of you on this trip that things could go back to the way they were. You were here together for the weekend, just arriving today and then heading home Monday morning.
He missed the playful banter between the two of you, but most of all, he missed your giggles. He had only heard one or two since that night, and it was eating away at him that he was the reason they went away.
Just as he was sipping the rest of his drink, he heard the clicking of heels against the tiled floor of the lobby, and he turned to look towards the elevators.
Harry thought he was going to fall through the floor just at the sight of you in that dress. He watched as your eyes searched around before falling onto him, and you sent him a small smile as you started to make your way over. 
“Wow, Y/N,” Harry met you halfway, having finished off his drink and already paid his tab. “You're stunning.”
You knew you were blushing due to his compliment, so you tried your best to change the subject off of your appearance.
“Let’s just hope I make it through the night without breaking an ankle in these heels,” you joked, causing a soft laugh to leave Harry.
“I’ll make sure you’re steady on your feet, don’t worry.”
You each took a moment to take each other in once more before Harry was extending his arm out to you. “Shall we? The car is waiting out front for us.”
Your eyes dwelled on his arm for a moment before you closed the gap between the two of you completely, cupping the crease of his elbow as he started to lead you towards the doors of the hotel.
Once outside, the driver opened the back door of the car, and when he went to extend his hand for you to take for assistance while getting in, Harry made it a point to stand right in front of him and offer you his hand instead. You couldn’t fight the small smirk that pushed its way forward, and you took Harry’s hand before entering the back seat.
You slid all the way over, watching as Harry got in right behind you, and the driver shut the door.
“Didn’t want him holding my hand?” You asked, raising a brow.
Harry rubbed his hand along the back of his neck before shrugging. “I guess not.”
It reminded you of him saying he didn’t like that man talking to you at the bar, and for some reason, the thought of him being jealous over you caused a new feeling to ignite in your stomach.
Did it turn you on?
You were drawn out of your thoughts as you heard the driver’s side door shut, and you started off towards the event venue.
“Nervous?” You questioned, knowing this was Harry’s first big event since taking on his position.
“A little bit, yeah.”
But not because of the event. He was nervous because of you.
“Me too,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t been to an event like this in a while. I’d come along with Mr. Crawford, but I’d stay at the hotel.”
Harry’s brows narrowed. “He didn’t allow you to accompany him?”
“No, not seen and not heard, remember?” You shrugged. “It’s okay though. I used to just order a bunch of room service, or I’d pay the hotel spa a little visit. He covered all the expenses which was the silver lining.”
“But still. That’s awful to make you travel all this way for you not to be able to participate in the main reason for coming.”
“To be honest, I probably would’ve had a terrible time. He was no fun,” you laughed softly, causing a small smile to grace Harry’s lips. “Not like you.”
“You think I’m fun?” Harry tilted his head to the side playfully.
“Definitely the most fun boss I’ve ever had. But I’ve only had one other than Mr. Crawford, and that was when I worked at a clothing store,” you joked.
“You wanna know a secret?” Harry asked.
Your stomach swirled a little bit at his question, but you nodded. “Sure.”
“I’ve never been a boss before. I wasn’t CEO at my last office even though I was practically doing the job. The other guy just got to be the face for all my hard work.”
“Oh my god, Harry, that’s awful,” you shook your head. “That’s seriously messed up.”
“It was, but I would’ve never left had I actually been the CEO, therefore, I would’ve never met you,” the words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could process, and you watched as his eyes widened.
His slip up caused your heart to flutter, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get too giddy over it. Harry made it clear that his confession that one night was just drunk rambling, so it was clear your affection wasn’t reciprocated in the same manner.
“Very true,” you decided to finally respond after a moment. “I could’ve had another Mr. Crawford if it weren’t for you.”
The conversation came to an end as you approached the venue, and Harry got out of the car first - extending his hand out just like he had when you got in. You took it, and once you were out of the car, he offered you his arm just like he had back at the hotel, and your hand once again made its home in the crease of his elbow.
The two of you walked into the building, and when you saw just how many people there were, you subconsciously curled yourself into Harry’s side a little more.
“Lots of people, yeah?” Harry asked, and he turned his head to look down at you. Even with your heels, he still stood taller.
Biting down your bottom lip, the two of you ran your eyes over each other's faces before you answered. “Mhmm.”
You noticed the way that Harry’s eyes focused in on your mouth, and for the first time, you wished he’d actually kiss you. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours, but you knew it was wishful thinking.
“Mr. Styles!” The call of his name caused the two of you to separate, and you looked over to see the investor who had invited you to this event. “And Y/N, you look amazing.”
The man placed his hand on your hip, and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes flitted over to Harry as he did so, and you could see his fists flexing by his side.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Noble,” you said once he pulled away from you. “Thank you again for the invitation.”
“Of course, Harry here was also very insistent that you be joining him, even though it was already my intention to have you here.”
You could see Harry’s cheeks flush as Mr. Noble spoke, and you knew that wasn’t necessarily something he wanted you to know.
“Well still, I appreciate it very much.”
Mr. Noble nodded before extending his hand behind him. “Bar is all the way in the back, and there’s servers walking around with hor-d’oeuvres, so please, help yourselves.”
Once he walked away, you looked over to Harry. “Should we get ourselves some drinks?”
“Sure,” Harry placed his hand along your lower back as you made your way through the sea of people.
Just the smallest touch from him could warrant butterflies flying in your tummy, and as much as you loved it, you also hated it. You hated it because you knew those butterflies would never lead to anything. Sometimes you wondered if you’d be stuck with this stupid crush on your boss forever.
“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked you once you approached the bar, and you knew you needed something strong to ease your mind.
“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”
Harry’s eyebrows raised at that, and part of him wanted to question you about it, but he decided against it.
“A tequila on the rocks, and a whiskey on the rocks, please,” he spoke to the bartender for the two of you, and you turned your attention to the floor of people conversing around you.
It wasn’t until you felt the side of Harry’s finger gliding against the outside of your arm that you looked back to him, and you saw he was extending your drink out to you.
“Thank you.”
You took it from him, taking a large sip to start which caused you to wince.
“Everything okay?” Harry’s face showed his concern.
“Just a lot of people,” you repeated his observation from earlier, and even though Harry didn’t believe you, he let it be.
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in ten minutes!” The announcement rang overhead, and you felt Harry’s hand against your back once more.
“We should find our seats.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
You ended up having another whiskey, which Harry knew was extremely unusual for you, and it caused him to worry. Even though you still seemed just fine, he didn’t want you overdoing it. You had mentioned to him once that you didn’t like the feeling of being drunk, and that’s why you only ever stuck to one drink.
The event had wrapped up, and you and Harry found yourselves back in the lobby of your hotel.
“Feeling okay?” Harry checked in on you as he pressed the up button for the elevator, and you nodded.
“Just fine,” you answered, which was the truth.
The extra drink didn’t have you feeling very different, it was just helping you calm those nerves that had been wracking your system for the past few hours.
As you both stepped into the elevator, you ran your hands over your dress which had you realizing you hadn’t thanked Harry for buying it for you.
“This dress is so beautiful, Harry,” you told him, and he looked over at you as you did. “Thank you for buying it for me. I know it must have been expensive.”
Harry waved his hand in the air softly while the other stayed tucked into his pocket. “I didn’t even think about that when buying it for you. Just saw it and knew you had to have it.”
“It’s probably the prettiest piece of clothing I own now,” you laughed, which brought a smile to his face.
The elevator doors opened, and you both started towards your rooms which were right next to each other. After fishing your room key out of your clutch, you turned to face Harry for a moment.
“I had a really good time this evening. I hope that you did too.”
“I did,” Harry nodded. “It was nice seeing them raise all that money for charity, and I was happy to be a part of it.”
Part of you hoped he would have complimented the company he had instead of just speaking about work, but you didn’t know why you had expected that to begin with. 
He’s your boss. That’s all. 
You had thought for a moment there that it was maybe leading to something more, but with the way Harry had been acting ever since the night you took him home, you knew that was no longer the case.
“Well, goodnight,” you said softly, forcing a smile on your lips before swiping your key and entering your room. 
Your mood was officially deflated, and you hated that you felt that way. You had no right to. You indulged too far into the fantasy you had created in your head. You had no one to blame for that but yourself.
Sighing, you tossed your clutch onto the dresser with your room key before heading into the bathroom. You reached your hands behind you to pull down the zipper, but it wasn’t budging.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed as you turned and looked over your shoulder in the mirror so you could properly see the zipper, and it was then you noticed it was caught on the fabric of your dress.
You closed your eyes as you took in a deep breath as the realization that you were going to have to ask Harry for help dawned on you.
Grabbing your room key, you walked out of your room and over to his door. You had your fist raised above the wooden surface for a few seconds before you finally found the courage to knock. At first you didn’t hear anything, and you thought maybe he was in the shower and couldn’t hear you. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock again, in case he had heard it and was ignoring you, but just as you turned to walk back to your room, you heard the door open.
You looked over to see him standing in the doorway, and you couldn’t help but drop your jaw as you saw that he was just wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips. 
Your eyes ran over the ink that was etched into his skin, particularly the ones that draped over his hips, and the large butterfly on his stomach.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, clearing your throat once you forced yourself to look at only his eyes. “My…my zipper. It’s caught.”
Harry’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped to the side. “Come on in - let me have a look.”
You walked into his room, and you glanced into the bathroom to see that his toiletry bag was open.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stated, figuring he was just about to get in the shower.
“Nonsense, Y/N, you’re not bothering me. There’s no need to apologize. Turn around so I can see.”
Swallowing harshly, you turned around and brought all your hair over one of your shoulders so he had proper access to the zipper. You soon felt his hands on you, one cupping your ribcage while the other fiddled with the zipper.
“Oh, I see,” he mumbled, and you knew he was mostly talking to himself.
His hand gave your ribcage a small squeeze before he brought it up to meet the other one. You felt a bit of tugging for a few seconds before the sound of the zipper being pulled down filled your ears, and you felt the dress loosening against your torso.
“There you go,” Harry whispered, and you felt his fingertips dancing along the tops of your shoulders.
You kept your back to him, looking at him over your shoulder as you licked over your bottom lip. By the look in his eyes, you could tell he was pondering over something, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself before speaking.
“Are you thinking of kissing me?”
Harry’s lips parted at your words, and you held a hand up against the top of your dress to keep it in place as you turned to face him.
“You told me you think about it all the time that night,” you told him, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “And I should have told you that I think about it too.”
Stepping forward, Harry got rid of all the space between the two of you as he brought a hand up to cradle your chin in his palm. “Y/N, please don’t be playing with me.”
You shook your head as you let your freehand glide over the forearm of the hand connected to your face. “I’m not, Harry. I know it’s wrong, and that we’d be stepping over a line, but I can’t help it. I’m so enamored by you.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Harry moved his face forward, but you felt him tilting your head to the side - giving him full access to one of the sides of your neck. His lips grazed your skin, and as little as the contact was, you couldn’t stop the moan that left you.
“Please,” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around his wrist and giving it a squeeze. “Please, Harry.”
It was then that his lips fully connected to your neck, and he kissed his way down over the top of your shoulder. Your fingers dented his skin as he then made his way back up to your jawline. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”
“You,” it came out as a whine unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. You were a woman blinded by your want for him. “I need you.”
All time stood still as Harry’s mouth finally met yours - causing you to let out a small gasp. He took this as an invitation to seal his lips around your bottom one, and he lightly sucked it into his mouth. Another moan left you, and it was then you moved your hand from your chest - your dress falling to the ground around your heeled feet as you pressed your body against his.
Harry’s hands then grazed down your body until they met the rounds of your ass, kneading them softly before he dropped them lower to the back of your thighs. He was then lifting you off the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist - ankles crossed along his lower back as he walked you over to his bed, and you kicked your heels off your feet.
He laid you down gently right in the middle of the bed, and you finally opened your eyes to see him hovering over you. His eyes were drinking you, and you could tell he was admiring your breasts as they heaved up and down from the deep breaths you had to remind yourself to take. His cross pendant swung back and forth before resting against your chest when he leaned down to place another sweltering kiss on your mouth.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Something that you had imagined in your mind for so long was now becoming a reality.
Your hands trembled as you brought them up to rest on his pecs, and you could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard as yours.
“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” Harry pulled away from your lips with a soft smack, and you couldn’t help but panic at his words. “I lied.”
You waited a moment before speaking. “You lied about what?”
“That night. I do remember confessing everything to you, but I was so embarrassed that it felt better for me to act like I had forgotten it. I was so nervous that I had ruined everything, and I thought lying would make things okay. I was wrong for doing that.”
“And you meant what you said?”
Harry nodded. “Meant every fucking word. I’m crazy about you.”
This time you initated the kiss as you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck, and you brought his mouth down against yours once more.
Your other hand journeyed down his chiseled chest to the waistband of his joggers, and you tugged at them - signaling that you wanted them off. Your eyes were closed as you felt him moving around, but they shot open when you could feel his hard length resting against your stomach. You had expected him to be wearing underwear.
Disconnecting your mouths, you looked down to see his cock - hard and leaking against your skin.
“Sorry,” he blushed furiously as you briefly looked up at him before looking back down. “I’m just so turned on right now. I’ve thought about this for so long.”
“Me too,” you nodded, running your tongue along your cheek before you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft.
Keeping your eyes on his face, you watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing deepened once you began to work your hand over him. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” You let your hand leave him for just a second to spit into your palm before you started your movements right back up. “Can’t even fit my hand around you, Harry. You’re so big.”
Your dirty talk shocked him. For someone so quiet and reserved in the office, you sure did have a way of speaking in the bedroom.
“Pretty little hand just squeezing me, hm?” Harry knew he could dish it right back to you - the thought of the two of you going back and forth causing another blurt of precome to drip from his leaky slit. “I could come just from this, to be honest. Fucked my fist so many times thinking about you. Felt wrong to moan your name, but I couldn’t help it.”
“Thought about me while touching yourself?” You earned a nod from Harry in response. “Thought about you too when I’d have my toy sucking on my clit. I always pictured it was your perfect lips playing with me. I would moan your name too. I had to. I could only get off when thinking of you.”
“Who knew you were so dirty?” Harry chuckled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. My little minx.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, but you nodded as well. “Just yours. Only want to be yours.”
Your hand began to work him faster, and you moved your free hand down to swipe your fingers along the precome that was continuously dripping onto your stomach. Harry’s eyes were glued to your every move, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you smeared his arousal over his lips before slipping your fingers between your own.
“So yummy,” you commented as you held his eyes. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”
“Fuck,” Harry groaned before licking over his lips. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Please,” you mimicked your plea from earlier. “I want it all over my tummy.”
“Want me painting your skin with my come?”
“Again, I need you to,” you moved your legs around to where one of Harry’s toned thighs was pressed right against your covered cunt.
You began to rock your hips back and forth, a hardy moan flooding out of your throat as you did so. Your clit was throbbing - begging for attention as your hand continued to glide up and down Harry’s prick.
“Oh my god,” Harry gasped, and you looked up just in time to see his eyes shutting again with a slack jaw. “For fuck’s sake.”
It was then you felt his come shooting out, coating your stomach and even reaching up to your breasts as you rode him through his orgasm. Once you knew he was finished, you couldn’t help but tighten your hand once more, and you watched as you milked another string of come from him.
“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry dropped his forehead against you, but he kept his torso hovering yours.
Still mesmerized by his load on your stomach, you didn’t even notice his hand had slipped between your legs until you felt his fingers gliding through your drenched folds - your underwear tenting around his hand.
“Oh,” you whimpered, tossing your head back. “Feels good.”
“Barely touching you, baby,” Harry chuckled as he used his index and middle fingers to spread you apart - the pad of his thumb pressing down against your pulsing clit.
You moaned as he began to move his digit in circles, and your eyes followed him as he leaned down. Sticking out his tongue, he licked over your nipples, cleaning up his come as he sucked on them. It caused you to clench down around nothing, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
“Yes,” you gasped as his teeth grazed against the pebbled bud.
“Like having your little nipples played with, honey?” Harry asked, smirking up at you. “Pretty little things they are. I knew they would be. Pretty nipples, and a pretty pink pussy. Never seen something as pretty as you in my life.”
“And I’ve never seen something as pretty as you,” you breathed as he started giving attention to your other nipple as well.
Soon his mouth had worked to clean all of his come off of your skin, and it was then that he moved his hand around to have his middle and ring fingers slipping inside of your welcoming entrance while his other hand pulled your underwear off.
“Christ, Y/N,” Harry groaned, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“It’s been a while,” you confessed as you bucked your hips up against his hand - feeling the heel of his palm against your clit.
“How long?” Harry began to move his fingers with more purpose, and you choked as a moan got stuck in your throat.
“Three…three years.”
Harry’s movement stilled, evoking a whine from you as you snaked your hips around.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” you swallowed, using this little pause to try and catch your breath. “Haven’t had anyone since my last boyfriend. I don’t go out much, and I don’t like dating apps. I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet anyone.”
Harry leaned down to massage his lips against yours briefly before pulling back - knocking his nose against yours. “I’m about to give your the best fucking of your life, you understand?”
Another moan left you at his words, and you nodded. “Please.”
Harry’s fingers left you, and he got off the bed to walk over to his wallet on top of the dresser. You watched as he retrieved the square foil package from it before he climbed back onto the bed over you.
“You’re sure about this?” Harry asked. “This…this changes everything.”
“I’m sure,” you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Harry. I know that I want this.”
“I’ve wanted you too, Y/N. You have no idea how badly.”
You heard the sound of the package opening, and you looked down to watch Harry roll the rubber over his length - him having grown fully hard once again.
“Ready?” Harry lined himself up with your entrance, and you felt his head pressing just lightly against your fluttering hole.
“Yes, yes. Please, fuck me.”
With the angling of his hips forward, Harry’s tip entered you, and you groaned as you felt him stretching you completely.
“Gotta relax, honey,” Harry’s hands reached down to massage your hips. “Breathe in with me. I’ll count. One, two, three, four, five.”
You each let the deep breath back out, and he smiled down at you.
“Again,” he instructed you, but this time, he began sinking his length inside of you as he spoke each number. “One, two, three, four, five.”
Eventually he bottomed out completely, sheathed inside your warm cunt, and you felt yourself clench down around him.
“You’re so big,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps. “Never had anything this big inside me before.”
“Never? Not even a toy?” Harry asked as he drew his hips back before thrusting in again.
“No,” you shook your head. “My biggest is hardly half your size. I’m not the biggest fan of dildos or vibrators. My suction toy gets me off just fine.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that too much anymore,” Harry laughed as his hands now cupped your breasts. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every damn day.”
He gave you three aggressive thrusts as he spoke those last three words, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yes.”
“That sound good to you, baby?” Harry started up a steady pace - his balls slapping against your rear entrance as he did so. “Have you coming on my fingers, my tongue or my cock every day? You’re never going to go without, understand?”
“Mhmm,” you mewled, arching your tits further into his palms. “I understand.”
For a few moments, only soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the sound of your skin slapping together as Harry satiated your sexual hunger. You had never been fucked like this before in your life. He was taking you with such precision - each of his thrusts filled with a purpose. The purpose being to get you off by any means necessary.
“You know what else I’ve thought about?” Harry asked after capturing your lips in a brief kiss. “Thought about taking you in my office, especially on those days where you wear those tight pencil skirts, or those flowy dresses, and I think about bending you over my desk - taking you from behind.”
“Yeah?” You stared up at him. “Thought about taking you at work too. I thought about - uh - riding you as you sit in your desk chair, and I wouldn’t even care if people heard. I see the way Darlene in marketing looks at you. I’d want her to know it was me who got to have your cock.”
Your words caused Harry to give you an extra hard thrust, and you could feel his tip punching against your most sensitive spot.
“I would hope they all hear,” Harry tilted his head down, spitting against your clit before beginning to use the tips of his fingers to play with it. “Hope they all know it’s me who gets to fuck you this good.”
“Promise me,” your hands found their way to Harry’s back, and you dragged your nails down his skin. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in your office first thing Tuesday morning. I’ll wear my prettiest underwear - just for you.”
“Better be just for me,” Harry growled as he smacked your wet pearl. “I’m the only one who gets this cunt now.”
“The only one,” you agreed. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”
“And I only want you. God, I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve finally got you underneath me.”
“Want to stay underneath you,” you babbled as you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach. “Harry, I’m close.”
Harry’s fingers applied more pressure to your clit, and it was then that your orgasm washed over you. You could feel yourself gushing past Harry’s covered cock - your body trembling as your knees squeezed against his hips.
“Oh my god,” your head lulled to the side as you started to come back down. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
“Look so pretty when you come,” Harry shook his head, still not believing that he was seeing you like this. “It’s a fucking honor to see something as gorgeous as that.”
You started to lift your hips up to meet his movements, and you could feel yourself clenching down around him again. If he kept this up, you’d definitely be having another orgasm before you were finished.
“You feel so good around my cock, Y/N. Never had a cunt fit me so perfectly. Take a look.”
One of Harry’s hands cupped the back of your neck, and he sat up just a bit as he pulled your head up. You peered down, spreading your legs further as you watched his thick cock glide in and out of you.
“Look at that,” you bit down on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving you as you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. “Just clinging to you, huh?”
Harry hummed in response, and you could feel his thrusts growing a bit uneven. “I’m about to come, baby.”
“Me too. I’m going to come again, Harry. I want you to come with me.”
After a few more thrusts, you felt absolute pleasure blanket over you for the second time, and you watched as your orgasm coated him completely. It was then you looked up to see Harry’s face contorting once again, and this time he looked even more glorious than before as he emptied himself inside of the condom.
Making sure that you both rode your highs out completely, Harry continued his movements for just a few more seconds before he collapsed on top of you.
Your bodies were sticky with sweat as you clung to each other, and your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. This all felt so right - that the both of you were exactly where you needed to be in each other’s arms
You opened your eyes when you felt Harry’s head tilting up, and you both smiled at each other. “Hi,” he said, fingertips dipping into the ridges of your ribs.
“Hi,” you giggled, and you saw his face brighten even more at that. 
“I missed that sound,” he told you. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
“Well, I think you’ll be hearing a lot of it now,” you smirked, pushing some of his curls off his forehead.
“I can’t wait.”
Harry gave you a quick kiss as he pulled out, and he helped you into the bathroom before giving you privacy to clean yourself up. He discarded the condom in the trash can before slipping back into his joggers.
Once you were out of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes ran over your naked form as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck to bring him down for another kiss as Harry rested his hands against your hips.
“So, I guess now if someone at the bar asks if you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to lie this time,” you teased.
“Oh yeah?” Harry’s smirk that you’ve come to love so much crept its way into his lips. “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed. “If you want to be.”
“Are you kidding me? Been dying to be able to say that and actually have it be real. I wanna fucking tell everyone that I’m yours, but I’ll make sure we’re careful at the office. It’ll all work out.”
You both shared another kiss before you just hovered your lips over his.
“So…round two?”
647 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 17 days
Note
Hello! Might I ask for the lovely bg3 guys hearing tav say they're love them in the middle of an argument please? Take your time!
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Astarion
Who knows what you're arguing about. It could be something sincere (his ascention) or something inane (he took your soap without asking, again) but it still slips out all the same:
"You're lucky I love you, or I'd be really angry."
The two of you stop and stare at each other for a moment, before you let out a strangled little sound and exit the conversation.
Astarion is baffled. He wasn't expecting that. Except, he sort of was? He's been trying to get you to fall for him after all, so why does it feel so... nice to hear you say it? And why does he feel so guilty?
The two of you move on like nothing's happened for a while, the tension bubbling between the two of you, until eventually he can't take it any more.
The two of you are on watch one night and he blurts out, "I love you too."
You stare at him for a long moment, he's never felt smaller. "Are you being serious?" "Yes. I am."
You look so relieved. He brings you into his arms and the two of you stay embraced for the rest of the night.
Gale
It's like you're arguing about the bomb inside him.
He's arguing it's the best solution to your problems, you're telling him that he needs to care about himself more. You're getting so frustrated that tears are starting to sting hot in your eyes.
"I wish you loved yourself like I love you, Gale."
Ah, you didn't mean to let that slip out. The two of you let the quiet sink in. You go to move away, his silence crushing, but he reaches out to grab you - not hard, but enough so that you stay.
"You love me?"
Tears come, inevitably.
"Of course I love you, Gale, you utter fool."
You can see he wants to argue about that but for once just takes the insult, pulling you into his arms so tightly you feel like he'll keep you there forever. Yes, he is a fool for not seeing it earlier.
"I love you too. You are the most precious thing in my life. I'm sorry for worrying you... and you're right, of course. You're always right."
You sleep in his arms that evening, and the Netherese Orb is never mentioned again.
Wyll
Oh, Wyll. Why would you be arguing with this sweet, kind man?
Maybe you're begging him to try and get out of his contract with Mizora, take back hold of his own life again. He's arguing about duty, what he owes to Baldur's Gate.
"I wish you'd think for once about what you owe to me, Wyll. To yourself! I love you!"
His mouth falls open, he's flabbergasted. When you try and escape he doesn't let you, following you into the forest where you run, calling your name.
Eventually you slow down enough for him to catch you and bring you in for a sweet kiss, then press his forehead against yours.
"I love you too. Of course I love you. I hate that I ever made you feel anything less than my absolute priority. You are always the first in my heart."
The two of you sit down and have a long, healthy conversation about talking things out as a couple. Making decisions together. At the end of if you come out stronger, united as a team.
Halsin
Halsin is probably the most laid-back on this list, it's hard to think of something you'd really argue about.
It comes down to this: you aren't taking care of yourself enough. Not eating properly, sleeping properly, sharing your burdens. You are trying to shoulder it all.
He keeps telling you that you need to be kinder to yourself - you keep snapping that he isn't in charge, he doesn't know what it's like. He tells you he cares about you too much to see you in pain.
You're angry at first - who is he to tell you what to do - and then you're just sad; burying your face in his chest.
"I love you too much to argue with you, Halsin," you whisper, and his heart melts.
"I love you too, my heart. Let me take care of you."
He cooks you dinner and makes sure you eat it all, draws you a bath and helps you wash. His fingers are magic. He lays down with you on your bedroll and lets his body warm yours, keeping you tight against him, only drifting off himself when he is sure you are sound asleep.
543 notes · View notes
memospacexx · 2 months
Note
we need a part 2 of the absent father alastor, the first part was amazing 😭
Age wasnt mentioned last part, this pne they are hinted to be 13-16 :3
Im writting this in the passenger seat cos i REALLY LOVE THIS MY GOD
Perhaps this was his punishment all along
To have his own child turn their back on him
But he knows its his fault. As much as he wouldnt admit it to a soul he knows. Hes self aware but it doesnt make things better
After he reappeared when the hotel was fixed, it seems like the child stuck with husk even more, sometimes even downright avoiding him
Him?
But hes their father
HE raised them
Right?
He tried, tried to hard to recall memories to back up his point but he couldn’t. All he could remember was him dropping you on husk
Like some cheep booze.
I suppose this was the weight of his actions
He could do nothing now, but that didnt stop him. Hes a hard headed man afterall
It started with him asking you to accompany him at his radio station, something you loved and begged him to before
Always asked to go with him, oh how you loved his voice
But he never did allow you to
On good days he would, but even then those were rare
So hes the one bringing you now!you wouldnt turn down some time with your deer old dad right? Specially how you used to even beg for his attention.
No? What do you mean no? Dont you love going ? Dont you love radio? Dont you love. Him?
“Uhm no thanks father i wanna watch husk do magic” you could never truly look into his eyes
Even when you called him father it felt so..
Forced.
But he grinned and bared it “I understand little doe! But you know where to find me” he chuckled and walked away
He could do magic too. He could do magic better. So why husk? Hes stronger, more capable of protecting you, he could protect you better than husk ever could, there was no need for you to cower under that horrid sinners wings because your father, your blood, could protect you
But he never did. Not when you got in trouble for running into some loan sharks, he let you fend for yourself
Pain was the best teacher
He would say
So he threw you to the wolves. How ironic.
That ended as horrible as you’d think, the only reason you got out there alive is because vox, yes, him, out of everyone killed the demons when he noticed it was you, he was just passing by, going to another meeting from one he just left
He recognized you, he knew of alastors offspring but never cared for them, his business is with their father. However, even then this was cruel, and he knew that deer was watching everything
He could feel the eyes on him. On them.
Vox watched as you scampered away, like a deer, like a doe.
Even then , he thought alastor would atleast have compassion for the child
His child
But he was wrong, he gave that bastard too much credit.
Even rosie, a demon that doesnt share the same blood as you, treats you kinder than your own
After that incident, you refused to go out as much, opting to stay with …husk.
Husk, dear old husk, he never minded
He hated it at first tho.
Having to babysit, he didnt like you either
But he knows, he KNEW it wasnt your fault either, he knows you wanted to spend time with that absent father of yours
So he tried his best filling that void in your heart, he felt pity for the little child, so he told old stories of his life before he was damned,he says they’re boring but the shine in your eyes and smile on your face whenever he speaks never fails to amaze him
he even taught you how to play poker
Charlie reprimanded him for that, saying he cant teach a child how to gamble
But he didnt care
You were smiling
Laughing
It wasnt much but it was enough
Enough from him
Enough for you.
It made his blood boil, it wasnt fair. Alastor would think
Why cant you look up at him with admiration?like how you always looked when you were younger
Yeah
Maybe this was his punishment.
TAG LIST;: @ghostdoodlen @lixanjewel @crowleysthings
845 notes · View notes
verstarppen · 7 months
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˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗
the pit stop for all your reading needs !
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mv33 。⋆˚ max verstappen
max and the three musketeers — mercedes is a just a tiny bit worried about your dates with their archenemesis
ln4 ⋆⭒˚ lando norris
in a galaxy far, far away — there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work
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dr3 ‧₊˚ daniel ricciardo
[ WIP ] pearls in his hair — they say alcohol brings people together, especially when you find a half-naked man by the lake of your vacation house.
ll40 ⭒𓈒ㅤׂ liam lawson
[ WIP ] rollar skate paparazzi — the guy you've been flirting with on the roller skate rink conveniently left out the part where he's super fucking famous
mv33 。⋆˚ max verstappen
[ WIP ] wrong kind of butterflies — max hates watching tv shows but he can't keep his thoughts away from that silly superhero show he watched on a 20 hour plane ride. and oh whatever shall he do when you actually meet on a charity party.
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mv33 。⋆˚ max verstappen
best trophy in your showcase — cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life
cl16 ☾⋆˚ charles leclerc
oh no he's hot — your comic book signing takes a turn when a fan walks in wearing a t-shirt with a poorly photoshopped "charles lechair" or wheover that is [ WIP ] caramel splotches — charles makes an oddly specific reference to your youtube channel just once, but the internet decides to internet [ WIP ] apricot bowls — there's nothing charles wants more than to win a championship, but you, the baby and the cottage are a close second [ WIP ] beef? she's a vegetarian — no one could've possibly predicted the real reason why charles made a joke that he'll join eurovision 2024...but you do, and so does your ex
ls2 ✮⁺₊ logan sargeant
behind open doors — the relationship isn't as secretive as you think it is. texan egg hunt — the ricciardo urge to be obsessed with america takes a whole new meaning when your relationship with the only american on the grid is revealed...because of kinder eggs glitter bomb — logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you [ WIP ] she's everything, he's just logan — not to flex, but how many f1 drivers can say they're dating a princess?
gr63 ˖♡𓍢ִ໋ george russell
get on with the show... — mercedes have a strict policy regarding office romance, but that can't stop Totally Spies because they can't read
op81 ✩°˖ oscar piastri
[ WIP ] fly me to the moon — the world hadn't seen chaos until you parked a miniplane in the pit lane your boyfriend lunchables [ WIP ] blueberry pastries — the mclaren and williams admins love taking advantage of the fact that you and oscar only seem to look like you're not absolutely miserable on camera when you're together meddle about — the singapore heat can't kill you, but the sight of him sweaty and disheveled just might
ln4 ⋆⭒˚ lando norris
[ WIP ] just a couple of besties — the king of spoilers himself, lando "oh is it confirmed?" norris, reveals to the whole world he has a girlfriend...and not a soul believes him.
dr3 ‧₊˚ daniel ricciardo
[ WIP ] you, me, and franz kafka — danny ric doesn't understand how a book about a guy turning into a insect can be interesting, but if it makes his girlfriend happy he'll read it- and maybe melt a few fans' hearts along the way
yt22 ★⋆.⁺ yuki tsunoda
cheap tricks on route 66 — losing a bag at a out-of-city gas station with an etched phone number seems a little too convenient doesn't it?
ms47 ❀˖˙⊹ mick schumacher
count me in — slowly but surely that fake dating plan you cooked up starts leaving its confined lines
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last updated: 28/3/2024
973 notes · View notes
neymarsangel · 10 months
Text
Car Troubles - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
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Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
Requested? Yes/No: Anon: Can you do an angst with Charles where the reader is a Verstappen and lots of brother max🥺🥺🥺
Summary: Ferrari can’t keep their car on track and Charles can’t keep his emotions on the track. 
Word Count: 3.2K
Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, Max on a rampage.
When Max found out you and Charles were dating he wasn’t precisely best pleased, how could he be? His little sister was in bed with the man who’d been his rival since his karting days. Although Max was kinder to Charles now than he was back then he would still give Charles a rough time on the track or the cold shoulder at family dinners. Just because Charles was dating his sister didn’t mean he’d like him. 
For the past few months, Ferarri hadn’t been performing as well as they should be and the moment the car stopped breaking down Charles would make a mistake and land himself with another DNF. The pair of you had been dating for over a year now and Max was very much aware of it. You moved in after four months leaving Max alone in his apartment, not that you were always away from your older brother and tonight was one of those nights. 
Charles had returned from the race weekend pissed off beyond measure. The car had finally started to work and he’d spun out and hit the wall. He was leading the French GP and after his mistake, your brother went on to claim P1 which only pissed Charles off even more. He and you returned to Monaco rather hastily, saying nothing the entire flight home. Once you were in your shared apartment you finally decided to speak. 
“Charles?”
“I don’t want to talk about it y/n.” His voice was stern as he threw his bags down without looking. His careless actions caused his bag to knock against your coffee table, hitting a vase Max had bought you. The water from the vase fell across the small table and leaked onto a scrapbook you’d left on the glass counted. 
“Charles!” You screamed before running over to the table. “Be careful you’ll ruin it!” The scrapbook was a present from Charles. After you two had an argument over telling Max about you both, he created the book as a way to show you that he never wanted to hide you ever again. Every time you went on a date he’d make sure he got something as a souvenir so he could scrapbook it. He got to relive the memories, allowing him to relax after races. 
“Who cares? It’s just a shitty book!” He snapped, running his hands through her hair. 
“What did you say?” Your voice broke at his words. 
“You heard, it’s just a shitty book with scraps of paper, it’s not important -”
“That book is about us, the book that you made! It is important.” 
“You don’t know what’s important y/n.” He raised his voice. “You know what is important? Me winning this championship! I need to win this for me, for Ferarri, for my family… for all those fans that give their time, effort and money to me, I need to win it for them!” He took a deep breath. “I need to win it for you…”
“Charles I want you to win the championship but it won’t make me think any differently of you…” 
“It should.” He snapped. “It’ll make me on the same level as your brother and I need to be fighting against Redbull… but you don’t get it.” 
“Charles I do -”
“No, you don’t! You’re not in that car, your brother is. You’re just always there in the background, just waiting there for Max… never me -”
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Your voice grew. “I always watch the race in the Ferarri garages, I only leave when Max wins to congratulate him. He’s still my brother Charles.” 
“You know sometimes when I lose I just want you there…” His voice was low as he spoke but that didn’t last long. “But you’ll never understand what that’s like.”
“Why? Because I’m not a driver?”
“Because you’ve never been in the spotlight, only the background.” 
“Is that what I am to you?” Your brows arched at his words. “Just someone in the background?”
“Well… the journalists flock to your brother, not you.” 
Being the sister of a Formula 1 driver had its perks but it also meant that every day you woke up knowing you would never be on the same level as your brother. Max was always praised by your mum and dad whereas you had to fight for even the smallest acknowledgement from your parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about your own achievements but more so that Max was always at the forefront when it came to outperforming you and Victoria. 
You didn’t utter a word to him as you grabbed your bags once again but rather than heading to your front room you headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” Charles asked. 
“Why do you care? I’m just in the background, aren’t I?” 
“Oh come on y/n you know I didn’t mean it -”
“Are you sure about that Charles because you’re acting like it.”
“Look, I know you will never understand what it’s like being under so much pressure but -”
“Charles, do you know what it’s like to be compared to your brother who’s won a World Championship? Do you know what it’s like to have to constantly think of ways to be noticed by your own family for something whilst your brother is out on the track competing in one of the greatest sports in the world?” Taking a deep breath as you watched his mixed expression. “Maybe Arthur will understand.”  
“Don’t bring Arthur into this -”
“Then don’t bring Max into this!” 
“How can I not? He’s everywhere I turn! He makes stupid decisions on the track which resulted in me suffering!” 
“Do not blame your incompetence on my brother!” 
“My incompetence?” He laughed at your words. “Your brother’s a fucking idiot on that track, nearly kills everyone who even dares go near him!” 
“At least Max knows how to stay on the track.” You knew it was a low blow but the way he was speaking to you, he deserved it. 
“That was low y/n…”
“And calling me unimportant isn’t?”
“Well right now you’re not important y/n, you know what is? Running Redbull to the ground and winning this championship, nothing else matters right now.” 
Charles was obsessed with winning, he always felt the need to prove himself to everyone around him despite his friends and family knowing he was capable of what he wished to achieve but he knew that didn’t matter. With fans and the press constantly hounding him and Ferrari to be better you knew it was them he wanted to appease, not himself. 
“Fine.” You didn’t utter another word as you opened the door and left him standing alone in your apartment. Tears pricked your eyes as you dragged your bags into the lift. You knew that if you stayed the two of you would only rip one another’s heads off even more than you already have. 
Monaco wasn’t exactly small so it wouldn’t take long to get to Max’s building meanwhile Charles was left alone with his thoughts. He’d fished the scrapbook from the water, treating it like an artefact at a museum as he slowly flicked through the pages, carefully inspecting which ones were damaged. Every time his eyes fell on the photos his heart sank. He knew he shouldn’t take out what was happening on the track onto you. You would support him at every turn and he knew what he said about you never being there for him was a lie. He spent the night drying the pages as best he could whilst he put them back together as they were before. He thought of sending you a text asking you if you were at Max’s safely, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you’d gone to see your brother about it, but he also knew if Max saw your phone he’d take it upon himself to reply. 
When Max saw you his confused gaze softened into a sympathetic one. His arms opened as you fell against him in his doorway. Sobbing into his chest he slowly guided you into his apartment before speaking. “Want me to break check the cunt when he’s out cycling? Or I can shove him into the wall during the race next week? Then again he does that himself anyway…” You pulled back from Max, a small smile on your face at his words as you two sat down. “What happened?”
“It was just a stupid argument, it’s nothing.” You wiped your tears away with your sleeves but Max wasn’t convinced. 
“It’s very rare you come running to me late at night because you’re upset.” He leant back in his chair. He had a point. Normally you and Charles would act cold with one another until either one of you apologised a mere few hours later but this time it felt different. He’d gotten personal and it had hurt. “You normally make up after a few hours and then I find out a week later so what was different this time?” 
“He said I wasn’t important to him and that all his focus was on the Championship… he told me I wouldn’t understand and I get that - I’m not one of you and I know it’s important but I can understand to a certain degree how important it is but I thought he’d value what we have over that title.” 
“I’ll kill him -”
“Max!” 
“What?”
“He’s still my boyfriend.”
“Not one I like.”
“You don’t need to like him… more tolerate him.”
“I’m finding that hard right now.” Rolling his eyes he shifted his gaze back to you. “Has he even texted you? To make sure you got here safely?” 
Sliding your phone out of your pocket you were met with a blank screen. “No -”
“Cunt.” Max spoke under his breath. “Have you eaten?”
“No -”
“Good, we’ll order in, watch a film, like we used to.” He smiled at the memories. When the two of you were younger every single Friday you would all watch a film and have a takeaway with your sister Victoria. It was the one night when the three of you were all together and could forget about your parent's divorce and the world around you.  
You and Max spent the night talking about what happened whilst you two watched a Disney film, trying to forget the night. Unlike anyone else you were close with, Max knew how Charles felt when his car didn’t comply and when he made a mistake which lead to his race being ended. He would always give you a different perspective on your situation and most importantly, he’d listen to you. That was something a lot of people never saw, Max would always validate your feelings and tell you his own perspective on things when you needed it. 
Eventually, you and Max called it a night and you headed into his spare room. Throwing your bags onto the bed you began to get ready for bed when your phone sounded from the cabinet. 
Char <;3: Did you get to Max’s okay? X
You: I did x
Char <;3: When are you coming back? X
You: Is that why you texted? X
Char <;3: No I wanted to know that you were safe x
You: I left the house hours ago x
Char <;3: I know but I wanted to give you space x 
You locked your phone, ignoring his last text. You knew you’d cause another argument with him about his text being a little too late but he’d already read your mind.
Char <3: Look I’m sorry I should’ve messaged you earlier but I didn’t want to make this any worse x
You: By making sure I wasn’t killed? Do you think you checking in on my well-being was going to make this worse? X
Char <;3: You’re right and I’m so sorry, I should’ve walked or driven you over myself. When are you coming home? X 
You: I don’t know x
Char <;3: Please be safe. Take your time and I’ll see you soon and I’m sorry x
You: For not texting me or the argument we had? X
Char <3: Both x
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to go home to him but his words continued to play in your head over and over again like a broken record. Climbing into bed you glimpsed at your lock screen which was a photo of you and Charles after he’d won the Australian GP. He had the trophy in one hand but he was looking at you, his eyes full of love as he looked at you, completely ignoring the trophy in his hand. 
You: I’ll message you later, goodnight Char. I love you x 
Charles's heart jumped at the reply he got. He knew it was stupid considering the two of you had been in a relationship for years but after a fight like that, all he wanted was reassurance. 
Char <;3: I love you too x 
He knew he had to make it up to you, he’d fucked up and with Max as your brother, he knew he’d have to grovel. 
You’d stayed with Max until the Hungarian GP, you knew you’d end up sharing a hotel with Charles. Max had offered to pay for another room for you but the truth was your heart ached to see your boyfriend again. 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to buy you a room?” Max asked as he carried your things to the room you were set to share with Charles. 
“I’m fine Max.” You smiled at him. “Besides they probably don’t have one free at this time-”
“Then you can take my room and I’ll share with Charles.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that would go down well.” 
“Well…” Max smirked at his own words. “He wouldn’t have to worry about him crashing into a wall because he wouldn’t even make it to the car.”
“You’re horrible.” A smile tainted on your lip at your own words. 
“Could be worse, remember what I did to your ex?” He smiled down at you. How could you forget? Your last boyfriend, Alexander, had cheated on you with a girl he claimed was ‘just a friend’. You walked in on the two of them in a compromising position only hours after he told you that he loved you. When Max found out there was nothing that could stop him. He stormed into his house and made sure he gave him two black eyes that wouldn’t shift for weeks. 
“It would be harder to get away with if you did it to Charles, besides, we had an argument. It’s not like he cheated on me.” 
“Well if that ever crosses his mind… it’ll be worse than two black eyes.” 
You reached your room but just as you went to open the door a tall brunette swung the door open before you could even get your hand to it. His eyes met yours as you both stared at one another in silence for a second. Max coughed, breaking the two of you out of your trance. 
“Max…” Charles glanced over to your brother who looked as if he was ready to kill him. 
“Charles,” Max replied before turning to you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with him? You can take my room.” 
Charles looked as if he wanted to kill Max himself at his words. “I’m sure she’s fine with me,” Charles spoke up. 
“You know she can talk for herself, Leclerc.”
“I’m aware.” Speaking through gritted teeth Charles seemed to have finally found his voice. 
“I’ll be fine Max.” You looked between the two men. Charles quickly snatched your bags away from Max’s grasp, a smug smile on his lips as he watched Max take a step back in defeat. 
“Text me if you need anything y/n, I’ll see you in the garages.” Max turned on his heel, his eyes not leaving Charles’s as he headed down the hallway. 
Charles held the door open for you as you walked inside the room. He’d moved his things in but only to one side of the room like he did every single weekend. Even when you weren’t around it always became a habit for him. “How was your time with Max?” He spoke as he set your bags aside. 
“Needed.” You replied. “How was your alone time?”
“Lonely.” He stepped closer to you. “I missed you.” 
Looking up your eyes met his. “I missed you too.” 
“I’m so sorry y/n. What I said, I didn’t mean it at all. Look, I was upset over the race, I feel like I’ll never be a World Champion and every single day I believe that I feel like I’m letting everyone down… especially you.”
“Charles I won’t love you any less if you aren’t a World Champion.”
“I know but… in the past, it's gotten too much and I’ve had people leave me or just become distant and I couldn’t take it if you decided to leave.”
“I’m not going to leave you I just want you to talk to me. I know I’m not a driver but my brother is and for years Max told me what it’s like and I know I’m not in the car but I can listen and understand as best I can, I’m sorry for what I said.” 
Charles stepped closer, his hands resting on the sides of your face as he leaned down. “You are so important to me, more important than any stupid trophy.”
“I better be.” Your face broke into a smile as Charles leaned down and took your lips into his. He stood in between your legs as he deepened the kiss his hands going to your hair to pull you closer to him, acting like this was the last time he’d ever kiss you. Eventually, you both pulled away, and Charles straightened himself up. 
“I have something for you.” Opening the drawer beside the bed he pulled out the scrapbook he’d made you. “It’s not just a book to me.” He handed it to you. “I fixed it as best I could, I’m sorry-”
“I think we should leave this page blank.” Cutting him off you pointed to a blank page. “For when you win the Championship, that way if you ever feel like you aren’t good enough then you can look back to this page, it might be blank for now but it’s a silent reminder of how much I believe in you, we all do.” You pecked his lips. “You might not believe it sometimes but everyone wants the best for you, especially your fans.” 
“I don’t want to let them down.”
“And you won’t… Ferrari will.” 
He laughed at your words, falling down beside you on the bed. “If only everyone thought how you did.” 
“Are you spying on them?” A British accent made Max jump back from the door to yours and Charles’s room. Lando stood behind him with a confused expression. 
“I’m just making sure he doesn’t make her cry.” 
“I think he makes other things wet besides her eyes.” Lando laughed at himself. Turning to face him Max laughed alongside him before his expression changed in a heartbeat. 
“Lando?” 
“Yeah?”
“Make a joke like that about my sister again and I’ll cut your dick off.” 
---
Buy me a coffee <3
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nouearth · 3 months
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breaking news.
bruce wayne x male reader headcanon.
summary: bruce has been making national headlines once again, but this time, you're caught up in it.
warnings: bale!bruce, panicked!reader, media frenzy surrounding relationship with bruce!
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dating bruce wayne in public included explosive media coverage when the news of your relationship first leaked. for weeks upon weeks, it was all every news outlet and the public could talk about—gossip about. people couldn't flip through their tv, or scroll through their phone without seeing:
THIS JUST IN: BRUCE WAYNE, MULTI-BILLIONAIRE PHILANTHROPIST AND PLAYBOY, CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC RENDEZVOUS WITH... A MAN?
it all started with a photo; a voyeuristic shot that framed you and bruce sitting in one of the restaurants that he'd invested in, holding hands and laughing by the candle light. it was one of the many dates where he closed business for the night for privacy reasons—to keep you safe from the public's eye. and judging from the angle, it was evident that it was one of the employees that had managed to stay back in the building.
to be honest, it was tasteful. nothing scandalous or even remotely explicit, especially if you had to compare to the scandals of men of bruce's status. as much as you felt like your privacy was invaded, you couldn't help but feel relieved when you saw bruce's smile in the photo. the way he looked at you with such doting eyes, his thumb caressing over the bridge between your index and thumb, the plates of food left cold because you were addicted to his company, and vice versa.
it was an intimate moment that was ruined by selfishness—greed.
for a brief moment, you felt... scared. the windows in your apartment were immediately shut and blinded by curtains; the locks in your doors were triple-checked; your passwords were immediately changed to new ones you'd probably forget in the future. you felt eyes on your back, pierced through the walls, watching your every move even if they hadn't.
and as much as you teased bruce about leaving him after your fifteen minutes of fame, you needed him more than ever.
"bruce, what do i—what's happening?""alfred's coming, you're at home, right? i'm talking with my security team right now and—"
it wouldn't be long until people found out who the 'mysterious man' in question was.
in less than an hour, your social media presence had a tenfold increase. photos on your feed received more comments and likes you could ever count. many of them ran with the narrative that you were simply an object of bruce's undisclosed desire for men, his boy toy. and before you knew it, the news outlet began reporting the same, including their own findings of your life.
dating bruce wayne in public included him hugging you as soon as you arrived to his manor. it was a protective instinct that had been brewing since he heard how panicked—how afraid you were—on the phone. while multiple phones rang off the hook, bruce took the time to let you breathe into you, to find a sense of peace as he held you, comforted you with affectionate words in your ear, affectionate touches that rendered you calm and ultimately safe again.
dating bruce wayne in public included bruce addressing his relationship with you in a press conference. it was silly that it had come to this point, but he made sure his feelings regarding how the news outlets had turned a relationship between two men into a media frenzy were known.
"yes, i am in a loving relationship with (M/N)." "no, i am not dating a man for relevancy." "who wears the pants—really? security, let's escort him out, please?" "no, my fiancé is not what those rumors have suggested." "and yes, (M/N) is my fiancé. be kinder, and i ever so might have the fleeting thought to invite you all to my wedding."
dating bruce wayne in public meant that you were advised to keep your answers as vague as possible when you were approached by paparazzis. there were few times where you could escape, but they came in massive groups, bombarding you, and the security team that bruce had hired to protect you, with questions that would guarantee the tabloids massive engagement, but you wouldn't falter.
"ah... yes—he's doing very well, thank you." "oh? my coat? bruce gifted it to me on my birthday a few years ago!" "what do i like... uh, cooking! i make a mean burger—ask bruce yourself!"
and as the public began to know you more, through your timid answers, to the wary and tired smile that only emphasized the dark circles on your face, you were rather... charming? compared to bruce, they've quickly fallen in love with how personal you could be at times. where bruce was always stoic and formal in his answers, you stuttered and answered with a laugh, unexpectedly cracking a joke in between.
it didn't take much interaction before the public realized what made bruce fall in love with a man like you.
dating bruce wayne in public included you becoming quite of a celebrity yourself. alongside bruce's, your day was documented from the very minute you stepped onto a sidewalk and started your day. what was your order at the local coffee shop? what did you like having for lunch? your favorite movie? your favorite thing about bruce?
you were a hot commodity and everyone wanted a piece of you.
though, that never stopped your weekly dates with him. golfing, swimming, hiking, eating; you'd hear the clicks of photos being taken from the shadows, and it was bruce who always held you closer, by the shoulders or by the hand to remind you that you were safe with him.
"they'll get tired of us eventually.""hopefully..."
with him by your side, it wasn't so bad that the camera flashes never failed to blind you whenever you two shared a sweet kiss.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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Come to Bed | Donatello
this started with the idea of seducing donnie into healthy sleeping patterns and then just. spiralled from there. i didn't really have a specific iteration in mind but reading it back, it definitely fits bayverse most, i think, so that's what i'll categorise it under!
warnings: NSFW, swearing, general filthiness? gender neutral reader, everyone is 18+!!
summary: there is only one way to get donnie to come to bed (two if you count blackmail)
word count: 2411
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It’s nearly 3am and your eyelids feel heavy, eyes glassy and beginning to ache just a little, and Donnie is still not in bed. You look at the empty space beside you, cold and untouched, and kick the covers off your bare legs. The air is cool, goosebumps raising the moment you abandon the comfort of bed, and you almost regret getting up as your feet hit the freezing floor.
Donnie is so lucky you love him and care for his health.
He's exactly where you'd left him hours before, sitting hunched over a desk in his lab, and you wonder briefly if turtles with their shells can suffer the same complications as humans with poor posture. Perhaps you'll force him to join you and Mikey for your bi-weekly yoga sessions. “Donnie?”
The terrapin doesn't so much as flinch, instead burying his face further into a screen that is already way too close to his face. Oh, his prescription is definitely going to need updating soon, you think amusedly. You clear your throat, attempting your best grumpy Raph impersonation. “Oi, four-eyes.”
Now Donnie does flinch, beak nearly crashing into his monitor, glasses slipping as he salvages his precious technology from being assaulted by his face and spinning in his seat to glower at whoever dared disturb him. He relaxes when he realises it's just you, shooting you a scowl that's devoid of any real heat. “You need to stop doing that voice, it's creepy.”
You grin at him, noting the exact moment he registers what you're wearing – or, rather, what you're not wearing. His eyes go wide and his lips part, scowl melting like ice doused in salt. He swallows thickly. “You're meant to be a ninja,” you tease, stepping slowly into his space and letting his hands fall to your waist before they curl around your back as he pulls you close, palms flattening against your spine. “You can't hear when one measly human is behind you?”
“You are so mean to me,” Donnie says instead of answering.
“We both know you like it. Besides,” you look down at your naked skin, his own eyes following your pointed gaze eagerly. “I think I'm being pretty kind, actually. Someone was meant to come to bed three hours ago and ravish me, but apparently, I'm not more interesting than,” you peer over his shoulder as best you can, squinting at the tiny squiggles. Lips pursed, you look at your boyfriend flatly, not bothering to finish your sentence.
“I can explain.”
“World of Warcraft? Really, Donatello?”
He winces at the full name. “I wasn’t playing for long,” he defends himself. “I’ve been looking over some things Leo asked for since this morning, I was just taking a break.”
“Taking a break means coming to bed and not staring at a screen for even longer.” Softer, you add, “I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”
You run your hands up the bumpy skin of his muscled arms, over scars and rough tissue that you’ve pressed kisses to countless times, to rest upon his shoulders. A small part of you is resentful, but the larger, kinder part of you is concerned; his eyes are bloodshot to the extreme, and exhaustion is etched deep into the lines of his face. You dig your nails in and massage a little roughly, feeling those worried knots and doing your best to soothe them with gentle palms.
It hits him then, just exactly what he’d missed out on by getting caught up, and his shoulders sag under the tender weight of your caress, twitchy energy that can keep him up for days deserting him instantly. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly.
You smile at him, fond and warm, one hand trailing upwards to cup his jaw. “It’s okay.” His skin is something you’ll never get tired of touching, you think, as you rub your thumb over the swell of his cheek. You pinch him a little, coy and mean the way you know he loves, before soothing it with a whisper of a kiss when he hisses playfully. “Although, you’ll have to make it up to me.”
“And what is my punishment?” he asks dryly, guilt pushed aside to indulge in your teasing as you lean closer to hide your smirk in the crook of his neck.
“You’ll be in bed by 11 p.m. sharp every night for the next week.” You can tell an objection is on the tip of his tongue, and you fix your teeth along his throat in warning. “I’ve already cleared everything with Splinter and Leo.” 
Donnie sighs both in pleasure and in resignation. “Are you trying to seduce me into having healthy sleeping patterns?”
You start to kiss his neck, soft grazes of your lips against his scaled skin. “Maybe. Is it working?”
“Well—”
“If the answer isn’t yes, I’ll be very offended and I’ll be forced to dump you,” you add airily, tongue flicking leisurely over his rapid pulse. “You're incredibly lucky I haven't already for ditching me for World of fucking Warcraft.”
“Oh, blackmail too. Lucky me,” Donnie mutters, but it’s full of mirth and he doesn't push his luck any further.
You grin against his skin, and you grin even wider when he starts as your teeth scrape along the column of his throat. His hands have a bruising grip on your hips, and you bite down harder just to feel his grip tighten.
“You’re such a tease,” he whines, unable to stop himself bucking up into you. His breathing has turned to panting, short and desperate gasps that make heat curl in your stomach, and you trail your nails down the keratin of his plastron slowly.
“You love it,” you murmur coyly, fingers brushing against the elastic of his waistband mischievously. “And you deserve it.”
Donnie curses loudly, head falling back as you pull on that elastic just to let it snap back against him. His pants are soaking, and you feel that familiar rush of smug satisfaction as you slot your knee between his thighs. It does terrible things to your ego seeing him like this; it makes you drunk and dizzy seeing him drenched and needy for you, and you groan under your breath as he grinds against you. 
“Please,” he whimpers.
You hum as casually as you can. “Please what?”
“Fuck, please, I need you—” He cuts himself off with a loud cry of your name as you slide two fingers past his waistband and into his dripping cloaca.
“Keep going.”
He’s quick to turn into a blubbering mess, drool running down his chin and words slurring as he babbles and begs you to continue finger-fucking him. “Don’t stop, please—yes, yes, right there, there, fuck—”
Your fingers pump in and out, scissoring inside him at a harsh pace you know he likes. He’s sopping wet but that doesn’t stop the tiny spikes of pain mixing deliriously with pleasure as you stretch him wide without warning. You can feel his slick coating your hand, running down your skin and over your knuckles, and he only gushes more when you add a third digit.
“Faster, faster,” he chants shakily, almost sobbing when you slow instead. 
“You’re so tight, baby,” you purr. “I wouldn’t wanna hurt you.”
He’s definitely sobbing now. “I can take it, please, please.”
“Oh?” You curl your fingers and fuck him harder and faster, just the way he wants. His cock is there, thick and heavy and ready to drop, and he shudders as you brush softly against it.
His voice is choked as he calls your name again. "Gonna drop, please–”
Your laugh is light and a little cruel and it makes him wail, the sound overflowing with need and desperation. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh god,” Donnie gasps as your fingers rub along his length still tucked inside, a fresh wave of slick trickling down to your wrist.
“I would’ve been kind,” you tell him nonchalantly, kissing his temple and huffing another laugh when he can’t stop his hips from grinding into you, body begging you to bury your fingers deeper inside him. “But you’ve been such a bad boy.”
He drops with a guttural groan followed by a pathetic whimper, gasping apologies feebly.
You sigh and pull your hand back, your resolve faltering just a little when Donnie whines and cries louder at the action. “You’re being very bad tonight, baby.”
He’s still wearing his pants and you roll your lips to hide a smile as he tugs them down frantically, his cock finally free in the air. His hands grip the arms of his chair so hard that you swear you hear them creak, desperate to touch himself but not wanting to disobey you any further. It’s a bit late to play innocent and good now, and you shoot him an unimpressed look that makes his jaw clench. “Please,” Donnie breathes.
Your hand is still soaked, and you watch him watch you as you raise your fingers to your lips, sticky tendrils trembling as you rub your fingertips together before parting them slowly. Eyes fixed on his, you glide your tongue over his slick, sucking gently and exhaling quietly at the flavour that blooms over your tastebuds. The arms of the chair are definitely creaking now, and you smile coyly as his cock twitches.
“Please.”
As much as you love teasing him into a pathetic frenzy, you remember his weary eyes and decide to put him out of his misery. There’ll be plenty of time to punish Donnie the way he deserves later – lots of edging and whining and begging and very little relief. For now, you’ll give him what he wants.
You kneel between his legs, coquettish as you glance up at him through your lashes; he’s working his jaw, teeth clenched and eyes darting wildly as he barely holds himself together. Grasping his hard cock in your hand, slick and heavy, you begin to pump slowly.
The chirps and churrs that escape him are whining and full of ecstasy, his eyes fluttering as you squeeze your palms around his thick length, hands twisting with an obscene squelch at every stroke. The lab is quiet apart from the wet pumping and his throaty groans, and you wonder if his moaning will be loud enough to wake the others. It wouldn’t surprise you, and the thought makes your hand move faster as you rub your thumb over the sensitive head of his cock.
Donnie can’t stop the stutter of his hips, head falling back. “Fuck.” He swears louder as your lips suckle his tip, your name a rasping prayer spilling from his mouth. You flick your tongue, tasting the slightly bitter flavour of his precum and just how soaked he is, evidence of what you do to him coating your face, and he cries noisily when you suddenly take another few inches into your mouth and swallow around him. He’s hitting the back of your throat, and he feels like he’s about to faint from how tight and warm you feel.
A wave of embarrassment hits him as you pull back and smirk, his head still pressed against your flirtatious smile while you continue to work him with your hands. “Please,” he begs for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
“You’re so good at begging,” you praise, eyes sparkling when it makes him moan lewdly. Oh, that definitely woke someone up. He’s back to bucking his hips and because you’re so kind, you let him dictate the pace as you continue pumping.
“So close,” he breathes shakily. “I’m so close, please.”
“Please, what?”
His eyes roll back, and the arms of his chair finally give way, crumbling under his crushing grip as impressions of his hands mould into the metal. Donnie doesn’t stop rocking and whimpering. “Please let me come.”
You kiss the head of his cock once more, delighting in the way he tremors at the whisper of touch. “Be a good boy and come for me, Donatello.”
There’s nothing Donnie loves more than being good for you and he shows this by coming undone the second his name leaves your lips, body jolting and convulsing like he's been struck by lightning as you continue to milk his cock while his orgasm wracks through him. Your face is completely covered, ropes of his come painting your skin as he groans pitifully, the sound agonised and mewling. 
It’s almost silent for a few moments, the only noises are Donnie’s wheezing pants and whimpers of oversensitivity, and you watch him quietly. He’s so beautiful like this, blissed out, stress a stranger rather than a constant companion, and you wish you could both stay like this.
The moment is over too soon as the terrapin manages to open his eyes blearily, although they nearly shut again in dizzying satisfaction when he catches sight of your come-smeared cheeks. It’s dripping down your chin, threatening to spill down your neck and to your chest, and a part of you wants to leave it, relishing in the way Donnie is entirely transfixed, but you scoop what you can on your fingers and bring the sticky threads to your mouth instead.
Donnie’s lips part and his breath hitches and it’s your turn to shut your eyes in pleasure, eyes rolling and unable to stop a soft groan as you lick and swallow what he’s given you. “Mean,” he accuses again when you finally open your eyes, and you grin at how faint he sounds.
“Just for you,” you agree and he churrs instinctively, flushing as you snicker. He’s so cute, you think fondly, letting him reach out and grasp you closer, seeking comfort. And so easy.
“I think I need that nap now,” Donnie tells you weakly, and you huff another laugh against his sweaty skin, tasting salt and nuzzling further into him. 
You press a loving kiss to his shoulder and reluctantly pull back. “Shower then bed, come on.” His legs are shaky, and you purse your lips to stop from chuckling as he stumbles like a newborn lamb, begrudgingly relenting to leaning against you. “Poor Bambi,” you tease, brushing your lips against his plastron in a loving caress when he grumbles playfully. 
Hopefully, no one has been awoken by your night-time activities and, if they have, you hope they’re not up and roaming because you’d really rather not have to bump into any of Donnie’s family with his come still coating your face.
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