#but it's cute! and it means I know how to make socks now!
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mimisempai · 1 day ago
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The human way of doing things
Summary
Doing things the human way can be taxing on the body, and Aziraphale won't deny it after climbing up and down the stepladder a hundred times to put the books away in the cottage. But the pain is quickly erased when a demon gives you a foot massage...
On Ao3
Rating G -  603 words
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“I'm knackered.”
Aziraphale dropped onto the sofa next to Crowley as the demon looked on amusedly and asked, "How many boxes do you have to put away?"
"This was the last one. I swear I'm going to burn that stepladder, I can't see it anymore, I don't know how many times I've climbed up and down it."
Aziraphale bent down to untie his shoes and take them off before placing a foot on his knee and massaging it. Almost immediately, he couldn't hold back a wince.
Crowley said to him wryly, "You know it would have only taken a small miracle to put all your books away, don't you?"
"Crowley, you know that -"
"Yeah, yeah, the human way, blah blah blah..."
The demon had no desire to rehash this discussion that had been repeated over and over again for centuries, so instead, noticing the angel flinch once more, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
Literally.
He grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap, then patted it and said, "Angel, if that's the way it is, then let me relieve you in a human way, give me your feet."
"Hm?"
Aziraphale looked at him in confusion.
"Your feet, lie down on the sofa and put them on the cushion."
"Oh..."
Aziraphale followed Crowley's instructions and, once on his back, placed his feet on the cushion in the demon's lap.
Crowley grabbed one foot and gently removed the tartan sock.
"Crowley, you don't have to do that, I can - oooh soooo good."
Crowley, ignoring the angel's protest, had just begun massaging the sole of his foot in a circular motion, silencing Aziraphale, or rather, rendering him unable to form a complete sentence.
Crowley smiled in amusement as he continued to massage the angel's aching feet. Aziraphale now had his head thrown back on his folded arm, clearly enjoying the treatment his feet were receiving at the hands of the demon.
After a few moments, as Crowley moved on to the other foot and Aziraphale said between moans of pleasure, "Millennia and I didn't know you had this hidden talent."
Crowley chuckled softly.
"Nice to know I can always surprise you."
"I'm not complaining."
Crowley hummed as he continued, treating the other foot with the same attention as the first, and judging by the grunts and various appreciative sounds that came out of Aziraphale's mouth, he was doing a good job.
When he was finished, he pulled Aziraphale's socks on the angel's feet and said with a playful grin, "You should take better care of your pretty feet."
Aziraphale giggled.
"My feet? Pretty?"
"Hey, I'm the best judge. I am, after all, the one who saw them up close, and that was millennia ago."
Aziraphale straightened up and, now sitting next to the demon, looked at him confusedly.
"What do you mean?"
Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck as he replied, "Well, when I was slithering along the wall of the Garden of Eden, I got a prime view of your cute little angelic feet."
"My feet are not cute!"
Crowley brought his face close to the angel's and whispered, "Your feet are adorable," just inches from his lips.
"Oh, you cheeky little devil."
Just as the demon, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, was about to reply, Aziraphale gave him no time and closed the distance between them, putting all his effort into making the teasing smile disappear in the way he knew best.
Which didn't stop Crowley from thinking, as their legs intertwined, that his lover really did have adorable feet.
Until he couldn't think at all.
_________
Still not beta'd
Still not my native language
Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰
Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝
South Downs cottage series : here
Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here
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kaisaerinlover · 10 hours ago
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michael kaiser
married life
tw: toxic relationship, abusive
you and your (not so) beloved michael kaiser finally decided to tie the knot. well, he decided, and you obliged. because what else are you supposed to do? you wouldn’t ever betray him, everything he wants is what you want too. he has you so well trained, doesn’t he? you went along with it because of how docile you are, how you’re basically putty in his hands. but you also had your own selfish reasoning, but you aren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet. no, you hoped that if you became his wife, maybe, just maybe, the tenderness he sometimes showed would be more common, the nosebleeds he bestowed upon you with his cruel fists would subside, the gentle nature he has somewhere inside of him would come out more often.
unfortunately for you, that’s not how michael kaiser works. and i think you know that too, don’t you? so why do you keep up the hope? you’re a true masochist, and he’s a true sadist. a very dangerous pair. dangerous for you, the one who subjects yourself to kaiser’s brutality willingly (it seems that way these days).
don’t get him wrong, kaiser yearns for love, yearns to be loved, yearns for you to keep on loving him ‘till the very end. and he knows you will, because you don’t have any other choice. michael kaiser is truly a master of his craft, a skilled manipulator and a very intelligent man. and now that you’re his wife, things really became a whole lot easier for him. he knows he has it drilled into your pretty little head that the only thing good for you in this world is him. him, him, him, him, him. pleasing him. loving him. being with him. being so sweet to him after he’s so mean to you.
he loves you and you love him. so why does the love he feels for his cute wife manifest in the most atrocious of ways? you know, he’s always making dumb excuses for why he’s this way. he thought if he was loved he would stop, then he thought if he got a girlfriend he would stop, then he thought that if he married you he would be able to stop too. he’s ran out of excuses now. he’s fucked up, all that psychology he’s polished up on throughout his life, all those books on human traumas and emotions, they should have made him realise what he really needs is the drive to change and a therapist a million times better than the average one. but he’s a little ignorant too, in that sense. or he was, he realises it sometimes, but he ignores it.
and besides, he’s not exactly one to complain about the arrangement you guys have. especially after marriage. you became so much more perfect, he didn’t even know it was possible. you’re the perfect, doting little housewife. and you’re all for him too, so cute, so docile. you like it too, but kaiser made you. you’re a little too stupid, a little too trusting and a lot too in love with kaiser to realise it. if you were just a little bit more intelligent than the girl he first met, he’s sure you would have realised something was seriously up by now. but it’s fine, ‘cause wits were never your strong point, nope, your sweet obedient nature was. and kaiser likes that.
you’re a great housewife. and he’s a great husband, you think. you’re in the kitchen, cleaning up, wearing a sweet little outfit kaiser bought for you. he’s so generous, he doesn’t have to spend money on you, yet he does. isn’t he just the best? so expensive too, he spends his hard earned money on you? isn’t your husband seriously just the best? you’re dressed in a cute vintage style dress, hair tied up into a cute ribbon and a cute pair of slippers and socks to go with it. haha, you don’t even realise it, but you’re playing right into kaiser’s weird fantasy. he always had a thing for housewives, everything. so now he has you dressed as one cleaning the kitchen whilst he’s hard at work. maybe he’s so obsessed with this dynamic because he never had it himself, his mother packed up and left as soon as he was born, of course. and his dad was an abusive sack of shit. fucking bitches. pieces of shit. ah, he’s getting worked up. he shakes off that feeling.
today, he tried to release as much of that pent up rage into the match. and he won, as always. he’s the emperor of the world. he wanted to get out all of his anger, because what he wants more than anything today is to be a normal couple with you. but that’s not going to happen, it never does.
he walks in, “where is mein engel, hm?” he stands waiting at the door, waiting for you to come greet him like you always do. after getting married you established this new routine. and you do come, you come so quickly to him and stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek oh so lightly. “micha, i missed you sooo much” you bat your eyelashes at him. he has you trained so well, it’s impressive. you’re like some cute puppy, you’re actually incredibly well trained. he thinks he should indulge in this idea some time, he just likes any scenario where you’re completely submitting to him. but he shakes that thought off, he won’t get distracted for too long.
he wraps his arm around your waist and walks you to the couch, where he sits down and you stand in front of him, between his legs, looking down at him so innocently. you’re confused, maybe you’re not as well trained as he thought, because you sure don’t know what he wants right now. maybe a glass of wine? you go over to the wine cabinet and pull out a glass and pour in some wine.
kaiser is waiting impatiently, he trained you properly, didn’t he? so why the fuck aren’t you going along with what he wants. god, it’s pissing him off. he sees you walk away, ah, maybe you’re finally going to cook dinner as he wants. he picks up the tv remote and turns it to the bltv channel, today will be perfect, he’s going to simply sit with you, watch some soccer and then eat some nice homemad-
and there you are, standing in front of him looking oh so innocent holding out a glass of wine to him. are you fucking serious? you’re kidding right? you’re definitely doing this on purpose, don’t look so innocent. you’re just trying to piss him off, aren’t you? you fucking bitch. “what is this?” he asks you. he’s angry, but he’s being eerily calm. “wine, i thought you wanted a glass?” are you being dumb on purpose? no, you definitely did this to anger him, didn’t you? ah, he’s so mad now. “and why would i want a glass of wine, after such a long day of playing. wouldn’t i want a meal, hm? dumb girl” he patronises you. and you feel so small. “
but you do something unprecedented, something you haven’t ever done before… you have a… reply? you actually talk back? “y-yeah but how can i know what you want-“ enough. he’s even angrier now. why the fuck are you talking back to him instead of bowing and doing what he told you to do. you retarded whore. what the fuck? all that calmness is gone, he’s gritting his teeth.
poor you, you thought you could reason with him before he got mad, he seemed so calm. stupid, naïve you. you thought he wasn’t mad and now you’ll pay the price.
he knocks the glass out of your hand, the glass shatters everywhere, cutting your hand slightly. the wine pours on you, staining you red. and if that wasn’t bad enough, his fist hits you square in the nose. the pain doesn’t even register until you feel the first drops of blood, and then see them on that cute dress kaiser bought for you just days before. he’s towering above you, staring you down. you messed up, didn’t you? “you don’t talk back to me. ever. i didn’t teach you that. next time, keep your pretty mouth shut. you fucking bitch. did you forget your manners? that’s not how a girl like you should be acting. should i just find a new girl, hm?” he’s holding your throat with his tattooed hand. find a new girl????? no, don’t do that micha!!!! don’t do that to you, you didn’t mean to. but now you’re even doubting that, you definitely meant to. you just didn’t realise it. or something like that… it’s your fault.
he slightly releases the hold on your neck to let you talk, you have a chance to make things up with your words. a very slim chance. because he probably won’t care about what you have to say, whether it’s an apology or not. but he’s letting you talk, so use the opportunity before you get a black eye next too. “i-i’m sorry. i’m really incompetent” you don’t even make any attempt to grab his hands off of your throat, or even wipe up the blood streaming down your pretty lips. “i’ll not mess up again micha, i promise.”
your blood is covering part of his tattoo now too, he notices it and withdraws his hand, and laps up the blood. he always had an affinity for your blood, you taste so sweet. he likes tasting the hurt he’s caused you. it’s fulfilling, this is how he likes living. he loves hurting you, he doesn’t like admitting it often though, ironic for a monster like him. for some reason, that anger subsides. he’s not as mad anymore. maybe he’s going to apologise to you? you’re actually kind of hopeful for that, the small, rational part of you that knows it wasn’t your fault. but that part perishes as quickly as it was lit up. he ruffles your hair with his other hand and wipes the rest of the blood his tongue couldn’t quite clear up onto your rosy cheek. “it’s fine, don’t mess up again, ‘kay? i was nice this time, wasn’t i? you’ve had worse from me before. don’t take my mercy for granted, prinzessin.”
you’re so lucky for getting that mercy, thanks kaiser, isn’t he just so nice? you don’t even know how he managed to forgive you for such a horrible mistake. you’re a shitty wife, thank god your husband is so nice. and, ah, that dress, the one kaiser generously bought for you, it’s all ruined. all stained in the wine and blood. you ruined the dress with your incompetence. you messed everything up, god, why did he even marry you? you’re so stupid, and good for nothing.
he can tell what you’re thinking, he feels a little bad, but he’d rather you beat yourself up over it than him. it’s easier that way anyway. he pats your head again. “poor little thing, all bloodied up because of her own stupidity.” he chastises, and you look down in shame. he’s right, you’re so stupid. “let’s go get you cleaned up, little häschen.” and he does, he leads you to the bathroom sink, sits you on the side, and cleans the blood from you. he almost flinches at the newformed bend in your nose, and the bruise which just seems to be getting darker and changing between shades of nasty blues and purples every second. yikes, he forgets how delicate you are compared to him sometimes.
all you can think about is how generous he is, he hasn’t even changed out of his jersey yet. that’s how nice he is. and he’s bandaging you up too, a cute bandage to hide that hideous bruise. he wants to hide your mistake for you? that’s even sweeter, he doesn’t want you to look in the mirror and feel bad for it, right? that’s what he’s doing right? your husband really is the best.
and that night, you make up for your mistake. you serve him his favourite bread crust rusk, and a nice glass of water. get him changed into his robe. tie up his hair. give him blue-red glasses so he doesn’t hurt his eyes. you pamper him, ‘cause that’s what he deserves. you pamper him whilst ignoring that banging headache from the brutal assault on your nose. and the bruise on your neck. and arms. and legs. all from past outbursts of his. you tend to him and treat him like a king even though you’re so injured, but you’re too brainwashed by your husband, too eager to be the perfect housewife so he doesn’t leave you, and you end up ignoring all of this.
kaiser knows what you’re thinking, predictable little thing. he thinks you’re real stupid. he’s the one that should be scared of you leaving, he couldn’t ever find anyone better than you, anyone more willing. you’re perfect. but he won’t tell you that. he won’t give you an ego. keep being scared of being left alone, so that every second you spend with him you’re even more grateful. he’s scared too, but he’s confident most of the time you’re going to stay. he feels a little guilty for everything right now, ah, it’s one of those times. the weight of his actions presses heavy on him, but instead of taking it out on you again, he just pulls you next to him, opens his robe and drapes one side over you, feeds you a spoonful of your home cooked rusk and pinches your cheek affectionately.
“good girl, schatzi. so good. i love you. du gehörst für immer mir.” he nibbles at your ear a little.
and you just sit and blush. “i-i love you t-too micha, ‘s much.”
you’re the luckiest wife in the world, thank gosh your husband is so willing to put up with your incompetence and stupidity. being a wife is so great. you lean your head against his shoulder, and whilst you’re being so tender with each other, you can forget about all your physical pains caused by him, and he can forget about all of the things weighing and stabbing at his mind at all times, caused by everyone. you’re truly his safe place. a real angel sent from heaven.
“engelchen.”
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smile-files · 2 years ago
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i think i have time over break to make a sock puppet!!! i'll go look at our sock and felt inventories :)
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stunie · 4 months ago
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“DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT YOU!”
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HAIKYUU + ACCIDENTALLY HURTING YOU. ft. hinata shoyo, kuroo tetsurou, & tsukishima kei x f!reader
filled request : “Since you said you write for haikyuu, can you imagine how sweet those tall (Hinata is tall in spirit) and strong green flag boys would be all very sorry and remourseful for harming their baby in accident? I think even Tsukishima (my fave asshole) would try to make it up even if it wasnt that serious.”
note : added kuroo ^ ^ <33 thank u for sending this in nonnie !!!
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TSUKISHIMA KEI.
You don’t know when the brilliant idea of jump-scaring Tsukishima Kei first popped into your mind. Maybe it was because he’s been egging you on lately, resting a heavy arm on your head, then on your shoulders— snickering when you start huffing and puffing about how “You’re not a damn armrest.”
Cute- to him, probably. But today would be your turn to mess with him, show him a little taste of his own medicine, or something like that. You just think it’d be funny to hear him scream for once.
You’re as quiet as can be when you tiptoe behind him from where he’s pouring himself a bowl of cereal, your fluffiest socks already on to ensure maximum silence with the extra cushioning. All it would take was one singular hug around his middle— and then you’d squeeze, force the scream right out of his body.
You’re so close to him that you can hear his breathing now, each soft breath making your heart race a little faster, and you’re suddenly reminded of just how big your boyfriend is. You have to glance upwards to check how he’s doing, and you confirm the fact that he’s indeed.. still focused on perfecting his cereal to milk ratio.
Too much to notice you right behind him, at least.
It all happened too quickly for either of you to have reacted differently. You’re pouncing forward, arms reaching to circle around his waist, and you just barely register the sound of a loud gasp before there’s an impact directly to your nose, your body recoiling back as your vision flashes white.
“F-fuck!” You wince, staggering a couple steps back before you crouch down, hands flying to your nose to clutch it tightly as soon as the throbbing pain sets in.
“What the hell?” He sputters, eyes flickering from his elbow to your face a couple times before he’s rushing to crouch beside you. His hands are awkwardly hovering over your body as he tries to get a better look at you. “What were you doing there? Let me see.”
“Kei,” you sniffle, letting him pry your hands away from your face with a pained hiccup, “Was just gonna scare you….ouch…”
“You’re an idiot,” he snaps, but his eyes are full of worry when he leans in to examine your face. His finger comes to gently trace over your nose, other hand tilting your head up. “..At least it’s not bleeding.”
“Mhm,” you give him a nod, “..So did i get you?”
His eyes narrow at you, but he shifts, leaning forward and nodding for you to climb onto his back. “Idiot,” he’s grumbling to himself, “Do you even have to ask?”
The way you pout at the nickname has his eyes softening ever so slightly before he’s tearing his gaze away from you. “Get on already. There’s enough cereal for both of us.”
“Hm? But you only got one spoon,” you wrap your arms around him, letting him lift you up onto his back.
“And?”
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KUROO TETSUROU.
“Look at this one,” Kuroo laughs, tightening the arm around your frame to pull you closer against his side. “He looks like Garfield, doesn’t he? What a neat cat.”
“Mhm,” you hum, nuzzling your nose into his chest as you scroll through your own socials. It was a routine the two of you had, to scroll absentmindedly while tangled in each other’s limbs until someone falls asleep first— except Kuroo’s been laughing uncontrollably for the last ten minutes.
You shoot him a nervous glare each time his phone threatens to slip from his grasp, the scare he gives you always accompanied with an “Oops! That was close.”
“Tetsu…” you warn when he suddenly jolts again, frantically adjusting his grip with a shaky chuckle. Your head was right below his phone, after all. “Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he smiles, free hand rubbing your head. “I’d never let it fall on you.”
“You’d better not..” your voice trails off into a sleepy mumble, and you switch your phone off, letting it plop onto the mattress as you wrap your arms tightly around his middle. “I’m starting to feel a lil tired..”
“Hmm? I’ll be joining you soon, sleepy girl,” he soothes, hand moving to rub your upper back as you melt into his touch. “Ah! That Garfield-looking cat is back,” he gasps, followed by a hushed whisper when you stir, “Oops. Inside voice, inside voice… hm? What’s this?”
You start to fidget, awkwardly adjusting your position against his side when he suddenly falls eerily silent. maybe too silent. You count the seconds of silence— ten seconds, then fifteen. You perk up a bit, one eye opening to check on your boyfriend, but he’s suddenly jerking back and yelping the moment after, phone slipping from his hands and landing right on your head with a loud thud. “Ah-!”
“Oh— sorry, sorry!” His large hand is covering your head instantly, the other tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t mean to drop that on you. Just scared the living daylights out of me. That garfield, damned jumpscare… you okay?”
You glare at him, but it doesn’t come off threatening with the tears filling your eyes. “Tetsu…” you growl, and he flinches. “I know, I know! I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling you closer to pepper kisses over the top of your head. “I told you…” you pout, “I’m gonna get a bump on my head now.”
His lips tug into a sheepish smile at the thought of a lump forming on your head. “That’s my bad…”
“You’re laughing!”
“I’m not!” He protests, his hands rising up in defensive as you angrily puff your cheeks out. “Nope. No way. This is no time for laughing.”
He pulls you into a hug, chuckling as you weakly push at his chest with a whine. “There, there. You can be mad at me all you want. I deserve it.”
“Although, I think you’d be cute with a bump on your head too.”
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HINATA SHOYO.
If you ask him, Hinata would still swear on everything that his intention back then was nothing more than to squish you in a suffocating bear hug. He definitely did not mean to knock you onto the floor your very first day back from vacation or anything like that.
You just looked so pretty waiting for him at the airport, soft smile tugging at your lips as you checked on his location through your phone one last time before tucking it away into your pocket. The way you shifted between your toes and the balls of your feet was just so cute, too cute that he couldn’t help but start running towards you, arms stretching out to give you the biggest hug of your life.
His eyes were slammed shut the moment he leapt towards you, so he didn’t catch the way your mouth fell open in a gasp or the way your eyes widened as your weight suddenly shifted backwards. “S-Shoyo?!”
The sound of your voice has his eyes shooting open, a surprised “E-eh?” coming out when he realizes the two of you are falling— and fast. He’s barely able to snake a hand underneath your head before the two of you crash onto the floor with a loud thud.
“Ouch— oops,” he grumbles, eyes slowly blinking open as he shifts onto his elbow. There’s a sigh of relief from him when he sees that your fall was at least partially cushioned by his hand, and you seem unhurt with the way you’re blinking up at the passerby before shying away from their gaze when you realize they’d stopped to stare at the two of you sprawled out on the floor.
“Sorry— are you okay?” Hinata’s looming over you now, carefully setting your head on his lap. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”
“N-no…” you mumble, eyes narrowing into a glare as he freezes in place. “Shoyo,” your voice falls to a whisper, “They’re all looking at us now. really closely too…”
“What?” Hinata laughs, “Shy again?”
You tear your gaze to the side, cheek puffing out a bit. “A little…”
“Want me to carry you?”
your eyes widen. “H-huh?”
“Mhm,” he’s smiling brightly, arms snaking around your body to lift you up in bridal style as you yelp, scrambling to hold onto your bag, “I gotcha. Let’s go home now!”
“..Shoyo!” Your cheeks burn when you notice the onlookers now giving you a soft smile— and the elderly couple behind them are exchanging looks before they’re whispering something to each other- you recognize it as an ‘aww’ by the way their lips move.
“This is more embarrassing!”
“Hm, is it?” He looks confused by your shyness, but his hands are tightening around you anyways, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry! I’ll get us back fast.”
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bookshelf-dust · 4 months ago
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promise to take care of my heart
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carmy berzatto x fem!reader
gif by @emziess
word count: 1,830
warnings: nothing? a little swearing, but this is pure fluff and that’s all
synopsis: carmy wants to cuddle with you for the first time.
a/n: hi! new character, i know. but i’ve become rather attached to carm in the past few months and i had a cute idea for him and here we are. he’s bringing me so much comfort right now and now i’m gonna share that with you <333
————
“Why don’t you pick out a movie or somethin,’ bub?” 
“If I could find your damn remote, Carm, I would.”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes on his hands where they sit deep in the dishwater below. Good luck, he thinks. 
You scan the coffee table, the rug below the shabby couch. It’s not like there’s any use checking the tv stand because it’s still a fucking table tray. You know he doesn’t even own the full set of four table trays? He’s just got the one? That knowledge keeps you up at night. Just like how he doesn’t have a ceiling fan pull and has to get tweezers to change the speed.
You find the remote nestled in a stack of freshly organized books. You helped Carmen assemble a very simple bookshelf so that his stash of cookbooks wouldn’t have to live on the floor anymore. 
Just getting to help him turn his apartment into something other than a place to sleep brought you a contagious giddiness. Carmen’s chest aches with how much he’s laughed since he met you. 
Look at all my muscles, Carm. I’m practically ready for my dick now, don’t you think? 
Where’d you even get these? He’d looked down at the little allen wrench in your hand and said I don’t know, they were just here one day. 
Now you have a bookshelf, Bear. What a grown up. 
Carmen wouldn’t let you help him with the dishes after he cooked you dinner. He’d just kissed your shoulder and said, “Let me take care of it, alright?” with that little raise of his brows and quirk of his lips telling you not to argue because you’d never win. 
And when Carmen tells you to let him take care of something, well…you listen. 
You haven’t been dating very long, but it’s been enough that you’ve both developed this rhythm, this way of moving around and with each other and you just…work. 
He doesn’t understand how you can dial his shyness, his hesitance, so quickly, how you can make him feel like a human again so easily. But you do. 
You settle against the back of the couch, flipping through the tv guide (because Carm has never subscribed to any streaming services) until you find something worth listening to. It’s already a few minutes in, but you’ve seen the movie enough times that it doesn’t really matter. 
The overhead light in the kitchen switches off and Carmen pads out to the living room, socked feet dragging on the hardwoods. Your biggest pet peeve is people who don’t pick up their feet, but somehow it’s more tolerable when it’s him. 
He sits down on the edge of the couch. Just sits. On the edge. That means he wants to say something. You give him the time to psych himself up. 
Carmy chews on his thumb nail and rubs his nose before he turns to you, placing his hand on the couch. His blue eyes burn into yours, and the intensity of his gaze, trained on you, makes you feel like the most important person in the world. 
“H-hey, um…can we—could we snuggle, maybe?” He flushes at the fact that he just used the world snuggle. Richie would have his ass so quick if he’d heard him say that. 
Your grin is brilliant. You’ve never cuddled properly with Carmen before. Maybe a head on a shoulder or a leg tossed across another, but never a real cuddle session. “Fuck yeah, we can, Carm.” You giggle and the sound softens that bubble of fear in his chest. 
He bites the inside of his cheek, letting out the barest laugh. 
“How did you want t-to lay, Bear?” You blink at him. “Were you just gonna—” 
He starts to nod. “I was just gonna lay on your chest, honestly.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, that works.”
“Y-yeah.”
You snort. “Lemme’ stretch out for you and then you can be a teddy bear.” 
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” Carmen shakes his head at you. He lets you pull that shit because he likes it. Secretly.
When you have a pillow under your neck and are laid out on your back, Carm slips beside you against the back of the couch and clumsily settles on top of you. He doesn’t want to crush you or anything, so he settles between your legs, only allowing the weight of his torso to envelop you. 
One arm wraps around your back, the other cradling your hip, his curls brushing your chin. He turns his head to face the tv and lets out a satisfied sigh. 
On instinct your hand threads through his tangled hair, scratching at his scalp gently and sorting through any piece that feels knotted. 
“What is this?” Carmy asks, nodding in the direction of the screen. 
“The Wedding Planner. It has Jlo and Matthew McConaughey in it.” 
“Chick flick?”
You hum in agreeance. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t hate it. Jlo’s character is like you but if the restaurant was a wedding planning business and you were, you know, a chick.”
He laughs lightly against your stomach and you can feel the puff of air over your shirt. 
The weight of Carmen’s body on top of yours is easily the most calming feeling you’ve ever experienced. You can’t get enough of him. 
“This okay?” you ask, scratching his scalp a little more for emphasis. This is a new way of showing affection. Uncharted territory. 
“Hm?” He looks up at you briefly, blue eyes fluttering closed. “Oh yeah, feels nice. I like it.”
You grin and continue to play with his hair. He’s right. It does feel nice. It is. 
The next few minutes go by without any conversation, just silence. But it’s so comfortable. Carmen’s tired gaze is on the tv. You can feel him breathing, feel the way he scratches over your back absently. You don’t know if he’s aware he does it, but he nuzzles his nose against the soft of your stomach every now and then like it’s keeping him safe. 
“You know I thought about being a wedding planner?”
Carmy pushes up onto his elbows, looking at you with the smallest smirk playing on his lips. “Really?”
You playfully bat at his shoulder and he moves to lay back down, but not before pressing a kiss to your sternum over your shirt. “Mhm. Still think about it sometimes.” You pause, but Carm doesn’t say anything yet because he knows you aren’t finished with that thought. 
“I guess I just thought it’d be nice to help put things like that together? The organization would make me feel…complete, I guess. And you know I don’t like to help people in such an extroverted way? I like to be behind the scenes.” You laugh, a little self-deprecatingly. “Does that make sense?”
Carmen squeezes your side. “‘Course it does. And then you could come home and tell me stories about all the family drama you eavesdrop on.”
You giggle, and Carmy loves that he can feel it where he lays on your chest. He can feel your joy, and that’s fucking cool. “That I could.”
He rubs your back in small, gentle circles. “And you know, I happen to have some friends who make pretty good food and would be happy to help if you ever needed.”
“Oh, do you? Well, that’s very helpful, Mr. Berzatto. You’ll have to give me their number.”
Carmy laughs into your chest. A pure, genuine laugh. It’s such a beautiful sound, and you truly think you’d have it tattooed all over your body if that was even remotely possible. His glee makes you laugh, and then you’re both snickering like you’re teenagers doing something that’ll get you in big trouble. 
You reach for his hand, the one that’s resting on your hip now, and he lets you lift it towards your face. He bites his cheek, fighting the smile that rises when you press your warm and chapstick covered lips to his knuckles. 
“You have such pretty hands, Carmy.”
He pinches your back. “I still don’t get why you’re so fascinated by them.”
“Because they’re pretty. And, look—” You hold yours up to his. “—they’re so much bigger than mine. And I like your tattoos, obviously. I like that I know how talented you are with your hands and how capable. I’m very lucky to hold such capable hands, Bear.”
“Capable, huh?” He gives you a look, one that makes you want to both tackle him and smack him on the arm. Instead you roll your eyes and he raises up to kiss you. 
“Capable of being the world’s biggest pain in the ass.”
Carmy laughs. It’s that little chuckle, light and airy and like he can’t believe what he’s hearing but he wants to hear more anyway. He flops back down on your chest, making you let out a rather loud oomph. 
You take Carmen’s hand in yours again, rubbing over the dry patches on his knuckles, the scabs on the insides of his fingers, the scar on his palm. His whole life is written in these hands. 
You start massaging the pads of his fingers without even thinking about it. No one’s ever been that gentle with him—definitely not with his hands—and a little part of him melts at the feeling. 
You kiss the tattoo on the back of his hand and just look at his skin. You’re determined to memorize each line and freckle and fucked up cuticle he’s got. 
“At least your nails don’t look like Richie’s, Carm.”
His chest moves with the giggle that travels throughout his body. 
“Trust me, they didn’t look like that when he was still with Tiff.”
You grin, your eyes falling back on the television. Maybe Carm would be open to setting it on the bookshelf? That table tray has put in a lot of work. It deserves a break. 
Carmen can see why you’re so fond of this movie. It’s one of those that doesn’t require much thought, that has humor and feels more human than most. He knows he shouldn’t think it, but you having said what you said before makes him wonder if you’ll plan your own wedding…with him. 
Shut the fuck up, he tells himself. But maybe we’ll get there. 
You catch him smiling when they fuck up the statue in the garden and pretend not to notice. You both keep quiet now, but Carm reaches up and puts your hand back on his head.
Your fingers thread through his curls again, scratching at his scalp gently. Your other hand does the same thing to his back. You know it’s going to lull him to sleep. 
When you say it, he’s already dozed off. But you are so happy that you get to make him feel safe. That he’s comfortable enough to sleep on you like this. Lucky is an understatement. 
“Thank you for letting me in, Bear. I don’t think my life has ever been this beautiful.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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littlenazzz · 4 months ago
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“ closeted agere things! 🌸
* mostly targeting regressors who can’t regress freely for whatever reason <3
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gear
- pacis can be hidden in stuffed animals! if you don’t feel like doing that you can use boxes for things like old phone boxes, old glasses cases, or anything that wouldn’t look suspicious or out of the ordinary!
- if you’re comfortable with wearing a mask and like using pacis, you can hide your paci behind a mask when you go out! You can even get a cute reusable mask to make you feel more small!
- instead of onesies, you could use some body suits! if it seems too suspicious to wear them alone, you could pair it with some shorts/sweats, no one can say a thing :) you can even find ones that are full body or have build in shorts!
- have a prepared response! try thinking of a well thought out excuse that can help you incase you get caught! try not to stress about it too much, though!
ordering
- ordering can be really difficult! trying to find a way to order gear when i was living with my parents was quite hard, and i couldnt find a lot of good advice on how to do it. the method that worked best for me was ordering it to a support friend or carer’s house!
- quite a lot of etsy agere-gear businesses have options for discreet shipping! the meaning for this can vary — whether they hide the gear in a small plushie or container or something, or they ship it and ensure that it reaches you and only you!
regressing
- this point is honestly harder to explain, especially because of how different every little can be from each other!
- if you regress to an older age, perhaps 7-10 or are a middle, then it can be easier for you to regress in public while causing minimal suspicion! (especially if you are high-functioning at those ages)
- involuntary regressors may find this a bit hard — i recommend trying a bunch of different exercises to get out of your headspace (only if you want to, or if you’re in a dangerous situation of course!) i have quite a few techniques that work for me; can make a post about that later!
little things that can make you feel smaller
- packing yourself a small snack when you go out! (eg. gogurts, small nut packets, chopped vegetables (or shaped veggies!), fruits, shape crackers, etc!)
- adult coloring books can be a bit hard to do when little for me, but some pages are pretty okay, especially when you’re trying to blend in :)
- having small plushie keychains!
- cute patterned socks! you can keep them hidden in long shoes, but if no one would question you, then you’re good!
- fidget toys
- using a water bottle with a straw!
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that’s all for now! i just wanted to add, please please make sure you’re staying safe! i know gear can be tempting to buy, but if you’re in a situation where there’s no where to hide it and getting caught would compromise your safety, please keep that in mind! staying safe is way more important than anything else.
take care munchkins, buh bye! 🫧
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lemonlover1110 · 7 months ago
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𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji doesn't want another baby, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you come to terms with it.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Toji doesn’t get baby fever. Out of the two of you, you’re the only one that squeals around a cute baby. Toji already knows parenthood, and he’s changed way too many diapers and done way too many late night feedings to know that he never wants to do them again.
Babies are cute, but at this point in life, he’d rather just be an uncle. He gets to hold and play with the baby, but gets to give them back when an accident happens. Unclehood is much better than parenthood, dare he say. He gets to do all the fun stuff and none of the bad stuff.
He doesn’t really want to do it all again, and there’s nothing that you can do to change his mind.
“Toji!” You yell from Megumi’s bedroom, and the man walks to the bedroom, annoyed. The man loves you to death, but he hears his name way too many times in this home.
He sighs, leaning against the doorframe as you open up a box. He makes his annoyance clear as he asks, “What?”
“I’m cleaning out Megumi’s closet, and look what I found.” You hold up the cutest onesie, one that fit six month old baby Megumi, something that feels like eons ago. Toji raises his brows, a smile coming to his lips.
“What? Are you thinking of having one?” Toji asks, and he’s surprised when you shake your head. It’s the first time you shake your head to that question. “Then what’s this?”
“Shouldn’t we donate it? Since we’re not having a baby, we don’t need these.” You tell him, and Toji can’t help but agree. There’s no way Megumi is going to fit into one of these onesies, even if he truly tried. 
“Let me help you.” He says, sitting down on the floor with you. You look at him, perking up your brows.
“What came over you? Suddenly being so helpful.” You chuckle, and Toji rolls his eyes as he grabs a onesie from the box. Why does it feel so small? He didn’t recall them being so small. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”
“Whatever happened to you wanting a baby? Who are you and what did you do with my wife?” Toji responds, wondering why now of all time you aren’t blabbering about how a baby would be a perfect addition to the house. These clothes are just so small and so adorable…
“I mean, we agreed to not have kids when we got married since you were done with that. It’s just unfair of me to ask for a baby when I know you don’t want more… So I accepted it.” You smile at him, feeling proud of yourself for this newfound maturity. Toji’s glad you’ve come to terms with it, because he was sure getting sick of it. 
He reaches into the box again, pulling out a pair of socks. He purses his lips together before looking at you. He didn’t remember babies having such small feet. “I’m glad that you–”
“I mean what’s even cool about babies? They’re cute, and nothing else. Then you have to…” You continue talking about the cons of babies, while Toji pulls out more and more clothes from the box. It seems to be getting smaller and smaller. His heart gets weaker with each item and he fights back the wicked thoughts. He can’t possibly be having… baby fever.
“Babies aren’t that great. Never have I looked at Megumi and thought ‘Oh I wish you were a stinky baby again.’ ” Toji says, but he pauses when he realizes that he’s had that thought before, way too many times. You chuckle before you quietly continue your task. Toji chews on the inside of his cheek, when he realizes something that he wishes he could push out of his mind.
He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but you said you were done with asking. The umpteenth time is the charm or whatever they say. Toji hopes that by saying, “Oh, Megumi was just the chubbiest and sleepiest baby.” You’ll come to your senses. You have to go back to your duty of being the wife that annoys her husband for a baby, and this time around he’ll finally agree.
“Yeah, they’re sleepy until it’s three in the morning, then they’ll wake up.” You argue, not noticing what Toji is trying to do.
“He had the cutest sneezes.” Toji brings up.
“Yeah, means they’re sick because they put their hands on everything and then shove them in their mouths.”
“He was so cute when he laughed…”
“Have you heard how they cry? That easily outweighs that.” You don’t even notice how he’s putting the clothes back into the box. You keep taking out the same clothes, wondering why he had so many of the same set.
“For fuck’s sake! I want a baby.” Toji finally confesses, ashamed that he’s the one that has to bring it up. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your lips before you practically jump on him to kiss him.
You kiss him over and over again, and Toji doesn’t want to fight you on it right now, but he has to put his hand over your lips when he senses the kiss leading to something else. He tells you, “Not in Megumi’s bedroom.”
“Right.” You laugh out of embarrassment, getting up from the floor and giving him a hand to do the same. 
He’s never seen you use so much force before as you drag him out of the bedroom. But it’s nice to see that you hadn’t really changed your mind, after all, that makes his job easier.
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luveline · 8 months ago
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also didn’t realise that amanda was their little baby but here’s an idea if ur up for it. amanda inherits like spencer’s smartness i guess and so when she starts spewing facts about the random-est stuff spencer’s overjoyed and then bombshells just staring at them with adoration in her eyes?? idk something really fluffy
“Shoes?” Amanda asks. 
“Yeah, babe.” 
“No thanks.” 
You hold Amanda’s socked feet in your hands. “You need shoes to keep your feet warm.” 
“I’ll have socks.” 
You look past her tiny face to her father for some assistance. Spencer scratches his neck, looking absolutely exhausted, though he’s dressed sharply. You’d spent a few minutes finger curling his hair this morning before it dried, and he’s brushed them out gently, giving him a windblown look. You pretend to take a photo of him. He rolls his eyes. 
“Amy,” he says lovingly, baby-voice in play as he leans over the back of the couch, “you know why you have to wear shoes?” 
“Why?” 
“Because growing up, your feet are very small, and very fragile. They need time to grow in proper structures, and they can’t do that if you don’t wear shoes when you’re walking a lot.” He gives her shoulder a rub. “Don’t you wanna match me and mommy?” 
“You wear shoes… different. Mom has heels,” she insists. 
“What if I wear flats?” you ask, eager to leave the house before afternoon. 
She shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest with a Spencer style pout. 
Spencer sits down next to her with a sigh. You’re both aware of how smart she is for her age, and while it can be interesting, it’s also made some stuff so, so hard. Like explaining shoes. “I’m not want to wear them. It’s good for my skin to breathe.” All her r’s sound soft, like w’s.
You rub your eyes. Spencer sucks in an excited breath. “Yes! Skin can’t really breathe, but it’s good to have it uncovered sometimes to help your circulation and your pores.” 
“‘Xactly,” Amy says. 
“And, you know, shoes that don’t fit right force your feet into narrow positions, which can cause a whole bunch of problems.” 
“No shoes,” Amy says. 
“But…” Spencer backtracks, thumbing under her eyelashes gently. “If you don’t wear your shoes, we can’t go out to the store for groceries and we can’t go to the bakery on the way home. Which means you won’t get your sugar donuts, mommy won’t get her slice of cake, and that’s gonna make me so sad.” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love when your mom is happy. It makes me happy when she’s happy. She doesn’t look very happy now, does she?” 
In all honesty, you’re much too pretty to be sitting on the floor, tights to the carpeting and your cute black dress bunching up your thighs. You refuse to close yourself into the ‘mom’ box some may expect of you, dressing as you had before you became a mom, but you’ve allowed Amanda the opportunity to choose your necklace; a gold pendant ring with green and pink sapphires. It’s gorgeous, colourful, and doesn’t even slightly go with your outfit. Spencer reaches for it now, tugging it straight carefully against your neck. 
You frown deeply, pulling your widest, softest doe eyes. “Please, lovely girl, put your shoes on. Or I’m gonna have to be strict, and I hate being strict.” 
“Don’t fw-own, mommy,” she says, listing into Spencer’s side, “you’ll get wrinkles. Worse wrinkles, ‘cos your muscles remember.” 
And again, all her r’s are w’s, her pronunciation lispy and sweet despite her amazing expertise. Spencer laughs and takes her face into two hands, kissing “Wow, smarty pants,” into her crown. “You’re so smart! I can’t believe it!” 
You feel your annoyance softening. Fine, she’s a smarty pants, and you secretly love it so so much. You’ll just have to carry her to the car. Or her genius dad can carry her. Actually, that could be great, Spencer’s never looked so handsome as he does carrying around your little baby, especially now he’s started working out every now and then. 
“Better role your sleeves up, Spence,” you say, standing up off of your knees. “I’m keeping my heels on. Daddy’s gonna carry you, and you’re gonna get wonky feet.” 
“That’s fine,” Spencer says to her in a whisper, “I’ll carry you forever if you want me to, even if you do get all wonky, bubby.”  
Amy preens as she wraps her arms around him and he picks her up. He takes her shoes from your hand without her seeing. 
“Isn’t she amazing?” he mouths, and he means it, his eyes wide with it. 
“She’s gonna protest socks, next, Spencer Reid, and then what are you gonna do?” you ask. You aren’t half as concerned as you’re pretending to be. Amy’s a baby. She’ll learn how important shoes are soon enough. 
“I’m gonna hold her in my coat, like this,” he says, pulling his coat over her legs. 
“Like that,” you say to yourself, grinning. “Okay, you two do what you want. Can we go now? We really need to get some groceries.” 
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dollfacefantasy · 8 months ago
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Kiss It Better
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader
summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter
word count: 6.1k
a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3
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“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”
A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 
But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.
The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.
From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.
He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.
“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.
“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”
“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.
“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.
“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.
“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”
“Most of them,” he corrects.
“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.
He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.
Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.
“Fine,” he says, “One more.”
You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.
He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.
He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.
“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.
His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.
Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.
As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.
“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”
He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.
“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.
“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.
“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.
“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.
Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.
“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”
As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.
“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.
He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.
You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.
He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.
He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.
Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.
Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.
And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?
The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.
Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.
Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.
He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”
You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.
He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.
“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”
You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.
“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.
But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.
It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.
“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.
You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.
“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”
“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.
“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”
He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.
“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.
Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.
“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.
He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”
The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.
You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.
He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.
“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.
You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.
Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.
Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.
“My perfect girl,” he whispers.
The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.
He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.
“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.
You weakly nod.
“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.
You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.
“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.
A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.
“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.
He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.
The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.
But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 
He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.
After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.
“Nothing, I’m-”
“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 
He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.
“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.
“I don’t know,” you say timidly.
“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.
“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”
He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.
“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.
“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.
“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.
You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”
He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.
“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”
“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.
“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.
“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”
“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”
His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.
“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.
You continue your quiet crying against him.
“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”
More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.
“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”
“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.
“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”
You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”
You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.
Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.
“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.
He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.
Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.
“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.
He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.
When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.
“Wait, daddy?” you say.
“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.
“Come back,” you request.
He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”
“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.
He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.
“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.
“Don’t I know it,” he teases.
He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.
“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”
“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.
Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.
Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.
His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.
“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.
You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.
“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.
You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.
“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.
He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.
He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.
“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”
You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.
“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.
You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.
His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.
“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”
That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”
“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.
“Mhm,” you squeak.
Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.
“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.
He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.
Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.
“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.
You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.
“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.
The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.
You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.
“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.
You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.
“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”
“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.
You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.
“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.
You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 
“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.
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natalievoncatte · 2 months ago
Text
Kara stared between her feet, as if the hardwood floor between her socks had answers. She was wearing mismatched SpongeBob and Hello Kitty socks. The Hello Kitty ones were Christmas gifts from Lena. Lena had admitted she didn’t know anything about Hello Kitty except that the design was cute, and Kara liked cute things. Kara treasured those socks as though they were a kingly gift.
There was a cold beer in her hand. She turned the bottle this way and that, wondering what the point was. She didn’t like the taste. Alcohol wasn’t strong enough to dull her emotions or make her laugh or cry the way it did for her humans. It just tasted mostly pretty bad. She took a drink anyway, doing what she always did: trying too hard to be something she’d never be.
Alex had offered the beer and Kara had accepted, taking one from the six pack she’d brought over. Alex was on her second, sitting back in her chair and nursing her beer.
“Kara,” she said.
Kara gave her head a listless shake.
“I’m just not in the mood to cheer up.”
Alex took a pull of her beer. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”
“Our friendship meant something,” said Kara, the last word coming out strained, pushed past its breaking point but holding on.
“To you,” Alex said. “It meant another thing to her.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what she said.”
“There’s nothing she could say that would justify abusing you like that.”
Kara looked at her. Alex was clearly on a mission here- to get Kara’s head turned around right, to help her see the truth, and to help her process it and move on.
The bottle in her hand shattered.
“Jesus!” Alex yelped.
Kara didn’t want to process it. She didn’t want to see Alex’s truth. She didn’t want to fucking move on. She moved on too much. Her world died and she moved on. Her foster father died and she moved on. Her aunt tried to kill her and she moved on. Her boyfriend turned out to be a galactic conquered and she moved on. She got her back broken and her skull fractured and she moved on. She was beaten to death by a literal clone of herself and came to back to life, and she moved. On.
She didn’t want to move on from Lena. She wanted her back. She wanted to be like it was.
She wanted…
She wanted things she couldn’t say, because she couldn’t want them.
“She said she killed her brother for me,” Kara choked out.
Alex frowned, eyes flicking between Kara’s face and the suds on the floor.
“You’ve got to see she’s bad news.”
Kara shook her head and stood up, moving to grab a towel and clean up the mess. She plucked the shards of glass from the floor and soaked up the suds. Alex didn’t offer another brew or take one. She just held the empty bottle in her hand.
“Kara,” she finally said. “You need to come to terms with this. I don’t think you’re being healthy about how you feel about-“
“Lena,” Kara gasped.
“Yeah, I mean, the way you two have been behaving is more like a-“
Kara tuned her out. Lena was approaching, and her heart was racing. Kara heard the distinct sound of her footsteps as she ran up the stairs and down the hall to the loft and had the door open as Lena stumbled to a stop in front of it, wide-eyed and panicked.
“Luthor!” Alex snapped. “You’ve got some balls showing your face here. Give me one good reason not to arrest you. Now.”
“Alex,” Kara warned.
Lena was looking at her with a shocking blend of fear and relief, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.
“Oh God,” said Lena. “Oh thank God you’re alive.”
Alex started to speak but Kara put up a warning hand. She didn’t move, standing fixed in the doorway as Lena stood there shaking, wrapped up in her coat like a drowned rat.
“Let me in, please let me in.”
“Kara,” Alex warned.
“Take this!” Lena blurted.
A jolt of shock ran through Kara as Lena produced the Myriad module and thrust it at her in both hands, almost dropping it in the process. Kara had taken it before she realized what she was doing.
“Take it, take it, take the fucking thing! I don’t want it anymore.”
Kara hit her lip. Lena’s eyes were full of silent appeal, heavy with… knowledge, or something like it.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You won’t believe me,” Lena said, her voice trembling.
Kara flinched. Lena’s heart was racing painfully, dangerously fast, and she was staring to hyperventilate. Instinct took over, and she pulled the other woman inside, gently tucking her into a firm hug.
“Kara!” Alex snapped.
“Alex,” Kara said, firmly. “Out. Now.”
“But you can’t just let her back in!”
“Trust me, Alex.”
“Fine, but I’m not going far, and if I even think I smell a trap, Luthor, I swear, I will bring the wrath of God down on your head. I will destroy you.”
Lena said nothing, turning her face into Kara’s shoulder. Alex glared fury at her as she passed, and Kara pushed the door shut.
“Lena, tell me what happened.”
It took Lena at least a minute to get her breathing under enough control to even talk.
“I was in my lab when this man appeared inside. That should be impossible. My lab is a fortress. Not even you could get in.”
“Wait? What man?”
“He looked like a funny little man with a bowler hat, but he’s not. It’s some kind of illusion or trick. He told me some incomprehensible name and told me he was there on your behalf. His name was just gibberish, Mix-something.”
She was finally calming. Kara guided her to the couch and set Myriad on the table, sitting beside her. Lena stared at it.
“I know his name,” Kara said, coldly.
“Did you send him?”
“I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“He told me he was there to give me what I wanted, a life without you. Before I could say anything he just snapped his fingers, and I was on the helicopter, the day you saved me from Lex’s drones, but you weren’t there. I screamed for help but you didn’t come.”
Kara felt the sour taste of beer and vomit rising to the back of her throat.
“I remember the crash and it was real, it was like it was really happening and it hurt so much, and then I woke up and Lillian was there with her doctors and she was cutting. Cutting me up and carving me apart with scalpels and putting machinery in me and Kryptonite, she put Kryptonite in my chest!”
“Easy,” Kara said, “Easy, Lena. Take a breath.”
Red-faced and breathing too quickly, Lena ignored her. “Then you were there and I couldn’t stop myself, it was burning you alive, like in the Fortress but worse and I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t even scream, and I felt this hate inside me, and I just wanted it to stop. Then I was back in my lab and he was there.”
“So you came here?”
“No! I told him that wasn’t what I wanted. I told him I wanted a world without lies, without conflict or hate or deception. I told him what I wanted to do. I don’t know why, it was like he was forcing the words out of me, and he told me fine, he’d give me what I wanted.”
Lena hugged herself, sinking back into the couch.
“It was real, Kara. It all happened. I mean, it actually happened. I finished Non Nocere. I pacified the entire world, made everyone calm and peaceful and truthful. I lived this. For years.”
Kara swallowed. Mxy… could do that. He was that powerful. Kara has suspected as much. He’d been toying with her before, like a cat tormenting a mouse. Her blood ran cold and she suppressed a shiver.
“Oh my God. You’re scared of this thing, aren’t you?”
“Lena…”
“You should be. It got worse. It got worse, Kara. Non Nocere worked. The world became a place of peace. You came to me and you were furious, but I asked you, was it better the other way? Were you angry because of what I did or were you angry because I made a world that doesn’t need superheroes?”
Kara swallowed. “Lena, it wouldn’t be right to control everyone like that. You can’t just-“
“I know! I learned my goddamn lesson already, will you just listen to me?”
Kara took a deep breath.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“You were the only one not affected. You stayed for a while, tried to reason with me, but then you left. You went back to Argo and rejoined the Kryptonian survivors.”
Lena went quiet, staring at nothing.
“Lena? Lena, what is it?”
“I gave him the world on a silver platter. I just handed it over and I didn’t even realize it. I wasn’t fixing the world, I was ringing a dinner bell. He came.”
“Mxy?”
“No, Kara. Something worse. From the stars. He came in a ship… his ship was as big as the sky. They came from cracks in the air, these… these portals started belching out these things, demons, I don’t know, and he came from the sky.”
“Who, Lena?”
Silence. Lena pulled her knees up and rocked in place, staring.
“Lee?”
“Darkseid,” said Lena. “He called himself Darkseid. He took Non Nocere from me. He used it. On everyone. On me, too. He made us worship… he made us love. He took something from my mind, from everyone’s mind, some kind of weapon, and you came back. You came back to stop him.”
“Of course I would,” said Kara.
“He made me watch. He said it was a gift for delivering him his prize. I saw you die.”
Kara’s stomach dropped. Tentatively, she reached for Lena’s shoulder, found it and grasped it softly. Lena hid her face in her arms and began to whimper.
“The things I saw. The things we were made to do. The things I was made to do. I can’t. I can’t get it out of my head.”
“It wasn’t real. You’re safe. I promise.”
“It was real. Then that Mixylwhatever came back and asked me if I wanted out. I almost said no, Kara! I almost said no!”
Kara closed her fists, arms wrapped around her self.
Great Rao, what happened to her?
I said yes and I was just… back in my lab. Like none of it happened. There with that thing in my hands. I did the only thing I could think of. I ran here.”
Lena is was still shaking.
Hushing her softly, Kara guided her to lie down on the couch, throwing a blanket over her. Lena shoved her face in the pillow and sobbed as Kara knelt beside her, trying to soothe her by stroking her back and sweeping the hair from her eyes.
“It wasn’t real.”
“It felt real.”
“I won’t let it happen.”
“You couldn’t stop it. Not even you, not even you and Clark.”
Kara leaned closer and looked her in the eye.
“I won’t. Let. It. Happen.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Lena closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. Finally she seemed to calm, at least a little.
“Listen to me, Lena. Please.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“Kara,”
“I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have respected you. I should have let myself be vulnerable and let you in the way you did for me. I only thought about what I wanted and I let my fear control me. I will never do that again. I will never run off to Argo or wherever else as long as you need me. I will always protect you, Lena. Always.”
“I know, Kara. I saw it in your eyes when you… when he… your last word was my name.”
“Rest, Lee. I’m going to destroy Myriad. I’m going to get Alex and and Brainy and Nia ans J’onn and we’re going to figure this out.”
“Okay,” Lena choked out. “Okay.”
Kara knelt beside her until she finally fell asleep, then paced the loft for a while.
She turned to look at Lena as she slept and then it hit her. It was like suddenly becoming aware of a new color, a hue that shaded the whole world but had been previously invisible. It was just suddenly there, and she understood.
Kara was in love with her.
She would forgive Lena any trespass, and she would do anything to protect her.
She called Alex. Told her what happened, leaving out nothing Lena said. They decided, after their earlier interaction, that it would be best if J’onn watched over her.
When he arrived, Kara went to the roof.
“Mxyzptlk,” said Kara.
In a blink he was there.
“Well then,” he said. “You’re welcome. Killed two birds with one stone, showing your Lena the error of her ways and-“
Kara didn’t let him finish. When she slammed him into the brickwork, cracks spread from the impact and her eyes blazed with all the fury of her long lost sun.
“Leave her alone. If you ever go near her again, I’ll break every bone in your body. I don’t care what I have to do. I don’t care what I have to sacrifice. If I’m not powerful enough now I will find a way.”
“You can’t do that.”
“When it comes to my Lena, I have no rules. Now get the fuck off my planet.”
She let him go and took a step back. He regarded her for a moment, looking rather pale for a fifth dimensional imp, and then vanished without another word.
Kara went back to Lena.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago
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hi bunny! May I request a swiss roll, honey cruller and creme caramel with a side of frozen latte for danny ric? Sorry it’s a little long🫶🏼
bakery menu
welcome to the bakery! i hope you have a good time here! feel free to submit your own orders! i love receiving them and have been working hard to get through all of them! enjoy! for this anon, thank you for the danny prompt! i've sort of fallen in love with him so, these are fun! thank you!
swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + creme caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?") + frozen latte (dumbification) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, dumification, slight sugar daddy au, size kink, power dynamic, dom/sub
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daniel liked his hands on your hips. he remembered the first time he ever placed them on you. the slight softness on the skin was appealing as you looked over your shoulder. daniel knew right then and there that he had to have you.
you were a simple university student, and being man-handled by a formula one driver was shocking. you knew you were taking long in the produce aisle but, there was no need for that.
"i'm so sorry. i don't know what happened there.. let me make it up to you!" which came in the form of paying for your entire grocery order for the week. which included some more expensive cuts of meat. when daniel heard of your poor sob story, he offered to pay. and in exchange you could accompany him to events. he said, "not to be vain, but you have a face the cameras would love!"
that was how you met daniel ricciardo, and that how you became the most special girl in his life. it was summer break for you, which meant you were staying at daniel's home. which meant barely any clothes and the constant ache in your lower back.
he had his arms wrapped around you as he held you close to his chest. you were cutting peppers for dinner and occasionally his lips would graze your neck, "i forget how small you are sometimes. if i tried really hard i could crack you in half." he chuckled.
you squirmed a little bit and put the knife down, "i'm not that small." and you turned to look at him in the eyes.
he looked at you, "look small to me. i know you're small because i can barely fit in your pussy." he chuckled before he took you in for a kiss. you'd only fall for his seduction tactics after your meal together. he tried to lay it on thick as he fed you pieces of his own food for you to indulge in. it was painfully cute and you couldn't help yourself.
"you're mine." he said as got you onto the bed, you looked up at him. he held you by the chin. you looked perfect, so innocent and small. he liked when you looked small. even if you weren't model thing, there was still a size difference between you two.
and he liked when you looked like someone who needed someone so much bigger and stronger to protect you. you brought softness into the world, and daniel needed to protect that innocence. even if that meant keeping his cock in your pretty throat. he said, "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you." he did pay for everything. you were lucky to not have to think about price tags for some time now.
you nodded cutely, "yes, sir." before he patted you on your soft cheek. you started to undress from the sundress that he picked out for you that morning. even going as far to zip up the back for you. now he was slowly taking it off you.
"see, this is why you're perfect. always use your manners." he said as he got the dress off of you, which was then followed by your socks, bra and panties. everything ended up on the floor for later.
then you watched your handsome sugar daddy take off his clothes. you saw the shape of his body and it made you feel warm and fuzzy. made you core throb with a want for him.
once he was naked, you tried to get further up to bed to give him room. but he grabbed and pulled you down to the foot of the bed once more, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" he loomed over top of you with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. you looked at him and felt hot all over.
you were naked and daniel took your legs. he propped them over his shoulders and rubbed his hard cock against your achy slit. he looked down at you and you leaned into his touch when he carefully caressed your cheek.
"so small."
"not that small." you giggled in response as you felt yourself closer to him. when he slipped his cock inside of you. you arched your back a little and felt a leap in your chest. you held onto the soft covers and let him get himself inside of you.
"not small, huh?" he said, "I can barely fit in you, baby girl." he chuckled as he moved against you. you felt amazing under him, even though there was a little too much distance for his liking. he took you by the hips and continued to move against you.
you felt heat in your cheeks as he moved against you. you laid out on the bed for him and held on for dear life as he basically folded you in half and pushed his cock as deep as it could go inside of you. his length battering your poor slit as he remained hunched over you.
"you look so good, angel." he said softly, "you're beautiful. all laid out for me like a good girl. you know exactly how to get me going. shit, that's it baby girl." he continued to move against you. he could feel the heat down his neck as he thrusted up against you.
he knew you were well behaved but, still, it felt nice to say it out loud. praise his baby girl. he leaned into your further and pressed a kiss against your lips. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him.
you wished you could grab a hold of him closer and press him against you onto the bed. but, it would end in disaster more than anything. your kisses continued and you moaned into them.
you were pressed between the bed and your lover. he said when he pulled away, "someone is enjoying this, huh? you enjoy when i fuck you like the good girl you are." he could feel his racing heartbeat as he moved against you.
he continued to fuck you and you moaned a little louder with each thrust. he eyed you with heat in his gaze. you looked amazing, you were truly beautiful under him.
you felt dumber with every thrust of his hips. the angle he had you in had you pinned and eventually your cheek touched the covers and you panted heavily like a bitch in heat. letting your love fuck your exhausted body. when you came, your expression shifted and you held onto the covers for a moment.
daniel eyed you as he continued to move against you. his cock buried deep inside of you. you panted heavily as he moved up against you. he pressed further into you as he gave it a few more thrusts of his hips before he finished inside of you. a move that made you squeak, but your lips couldn't form words. you felt so dumb in the brain at that moment.
"oh... poor baby. someone feels a little too good right now."
he dropped your legs carefully back over the edge of the bed and he slipped out of your pussy. then helped you further up the bed. you clung to him like a little koala. and daniel was more than happy to hold you once he got into bed with you. your naked bodies curled together.
daniel kissed you on the face, "how do you feel? tap twice is you feel good." but no words were getting through your head. instead you gave him a shaky thumbs up before you buried your face into his hairy chest.
he just laughed then kissed you on the top of the head. he'd get you whatever you needed when you could communicate with him once more. for now he'd just hold his baby girl. you felt soft in his arms and he loved it. <3
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wolfiesmoon · 10 months ago
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Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.
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Like this.
Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д`|||)
I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point
i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ^皿^)っ
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𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia
He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie
This doesn't feel right🫤
But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)
When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠
He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."
"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that
without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place
"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier
you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar
basically, it is NOT happening
"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room
like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie
"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕
"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his
"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒
"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...
"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭
this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins
moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud
"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms
"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him
being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to
...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock
after a short while of very awkward silence...
he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash
you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead
"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒
"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back
He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit
this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠
love transcends disagreements, after all
does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒
he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."
your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢
he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying
You don't reply for a moment...
"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."
"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back
it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge
He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like
He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔
he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...
"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously
"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back
"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at
"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout
"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻
"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨
"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy
"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗
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jarofstyles · 6 months ago
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Leather & Lace
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Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you
Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!
Wc- 8.2k
Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping
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“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning. 
“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”
He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask. 
But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different. 
Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to. 
Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked. 
From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.
“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster. 
“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”
He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention. 
Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date. 
No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more. 
It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more. 
They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things. 
Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself. 
Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home. 
Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was. 
Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open. 
It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled. 
Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed. 
The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile. 
—--
“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall. 
“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze. 
God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it.  “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped. 
“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.” 
He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.” 
The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?” 
“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.”  He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time. 
“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”
“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”
“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.
—-----------
Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was. 
Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.” 
“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them. 
“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”
As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.” 
Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though. 
“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.” 
A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out. 
“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.” 
That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was. 
He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?” 
“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.” 
“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags. 
“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.” 
—-----
Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one. 
He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk. 
“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing. 
“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”
Ah, a shot to the heart. 
Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over,  “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.” 
He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.
“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror. 
“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair. 
“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.” 
Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this. 
“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?” 
She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.” 
“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror. 
“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.” 
“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”
Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either. 
After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.” 
“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times. 
“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions. 
Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. 
She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants. 
“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”
Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure. 
“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-” 
Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-” 
“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 
He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal. 
“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.
“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit. 
“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this. 
While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied. 
“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”
“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.” 
God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.” 
“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.” 
Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.” 
“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”
Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”
Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.” 
And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.” 
“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.
“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.” 
Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own. 
“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”
And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly. 
“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?” 
Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.” 
Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.” 
Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.” 
Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.” 
Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.” 
Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.” 
What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?” 
“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again. 
“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.” 
“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him. 
“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on. 
She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.” 
Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”
Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think  I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.” 
“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”
“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head. 
How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake. 
“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.” 
This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see. 
“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?” 
How could he ever tell her no? 
Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop. 
His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it. 
He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face. 
“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck. 
The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.” 
“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him. 
“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic. 
“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.” 
Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head. 
“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.” 
Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time. 
“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”
986 notes · View notes
recareels · 3 months ago
Text
⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday + the nickname ‘sunny’
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character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, size difference, fem reader words: 781
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“Sunny!” 
Juvenile and trashy, he used to hate that nickname. 
He used to hate that nickname, until you. 
It’s funny, how the meaning of a word can change with a single person, in a single instant. 
The first time you use it, Sunday doesn’t even have the heart to tell you how much he despises it—because suddenly, he doesn’t anymore. 
That’s all it took; two syllables, falling from your lips wrapped in a melodic laugh. Two syllables, vibrating on your tongue, eyes sparkling as they found his, and his whole view on the wretched nickname had changed. 
Because it sounds so beautiful when you say it, sucked on in the heat of your mouth, warm and syrupy as melted sugar. It sounds so special when you say it, filtered through an everlasting smile—his smile, the one you save just for him, the one that no one else gets to see, gets to procure—thickly embraced in love and reverence and worship. 
You say it like it’s a prayer, like it’s a vow. You say it with such passionate fondness that it sounds like a promise, an oath swearing that you will never leave, that you will love him, wholly and completely, for eternity. 
“You know, I used to hate the nickname Sunny,” he finally tells you one night while you’re laying in bed, voice lullabied.
It’s late—too late for you to be awake, truthfully—and you had fallen asleep waiting up for him, desperate to catch a glimpse of him after nearly twenty-four hours of his absence. 
But the moment he had entered the bedroom—sock-clad feet quiet on the hardwood, steps kept light and agile, silver door handle twisted with such meticulous care and precision that he’s sure it didn’t make a single sound—you were up, lashes fluttering against the halo of golden light spilling past him in the doorway.
A sixth sense, he likes to call it. Something intimate and instinctual that alerts you to his presence, the moment he’s in your general vicinity. A divine intuition borne out of your ethereal and everlasting love for him. 
A hum vibrates on his chest, your cheek nuzzling into his sternum. 
“Why?” 
“Because it sounded…” silly, stupid, unsophisticated. “Wrong, coming from the lips of anyone. Anyone else, but you.” 
“And now?”
Now, it’s special, significant, personal. 
Now, he loves it. 
He loves it, always. 
He loves it when it’s laughed out, stuttered by giggles or the slap of your tennis shoes against stone in the courtyard while you gracefully leap from his touch, the linen of your dress teasingly brushing his fingertips, narrowly escaping his grasp.
He loves it when it’s squealed out, pitched high and stringy and filtered through a pout, usually accompanied by knitted brows or a stomped foot. Sunny, be serious! you cry, features scrunching further at his tender chuckle.
I am serious, darling, he always responds, but he can never quite dim those adoring twinkles shimmering in his eyes, mollifying his gaze to something soft and lidded, playful affection toying with the corners of his mouth. You’re just too cute. 
He loves it when it’s gasped out, nothing more than a breathy wisp on your tongue, pushed from your chest by his relentless thrusts and repeated until it breaks, letters shattering on your lips, cunt convulsing around him.
Even fractured with bliss, it still sounds so heavenly coming from your throat, shards of it lingering on your tongue even after he’s pumped you full of thick cum and panted his own rapture into your waiting, wanting mouth—Sun-Su-Sun-ny, bits of the name wheezed out in little whines; desperate, divine, dissolving on his tongue, little fingers clawing and clinging to his heaving form as it curls around your own.
He loves it when it’s slurred out in those early morning hours when he finally returns to you, murmured into your pillow and drowning in a pool of thick spit, letters heavy with sleep. Sunny, you whimper again, turning toward the heat of his body, hands groping blindly, eyes still glued shut with exhaustion. Missed you, s’much, Sunny, you mumble into his sternum as you rub your cheek along it, catlike. My Sunny. 
He loves it, forever. 
“Now, it’s perfect,” he murmurs into your hair, sealing the proclamation with a kiss. “Now, it’s my favourite.”
Admittedly, he still hates it when anyone else uses it, but it’s for a different reason now. No longer is the nickname childish and asinine, but instead it is yours, special and sacred, a term of endearment allowed just for you. It has been transformed by your lips and your love, metamorphosed into something sacrosanct.
And Sunday wouldn’t have it any other way. 
584 notes · View notes
m-ilkiee · 3 months ago
Text
Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 2: Shots Fired
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series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: Izana Kurokawa demands your attention and he doesn’t take no for an answer. Not even when his demands are outrageous.
cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, r*pe mention, religious guilt, depictions of PTSD and CPTSD, emotional incest, abandoment issues, violence, revenge porn, depression, filming without consent, drugging, implied domestic abuse, victim blaming, blackmailing, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break, psychological torture, use of firearms
r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)
wc: 11.6k
[masterlist] [chapter 1] [chapter 3] [taglist]
a/n: likes are nice, comments and reblogs with comments are superior, anons are also superior too and would make me update faster cause it means people like what i write. this chapter takes an entirely different turn from the old story, some scenes are similar but the context is different. i host polls after this so stay tuned. Edit 02/11/2024: this chapter's end has been edited and changed. I've indicated the edited point, so that you could skip other parts to read it. Thank you.
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 YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.
It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself.
Not to mention, studying until the words are bleary and just looking at a book hurts your eyes.
But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.
Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. You try to reject him, try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped. This time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of the thing you hold so dear while you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.
You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.
The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgement for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.
No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.
You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.
Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.
You were so, so tired-
“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.
Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”
You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”
You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard any of this, he was definitely going to fire you. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.
“No mam!” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”
“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”
You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologised to her.
“What is going on here?”
You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”
“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”
Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”
“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologising profusely for your so called rude behaviour. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”
You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well, you better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”
“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”
You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.
Your skin crawled as you felt his penetrating gaze on you, as if judging you. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”
You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here because you said you were desperate for a job. But apparently, you’re not even bothered enough to keep it.” He spat out. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”
“But s-”
“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”
You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.
No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.
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  IZANA knows it's creepy to be waiting for Emma just outside her college, but it's not like he has a choice when she keeps ignoring any method he uses to contact her.
Mindlessly, he fiddled with his lighter with his back on the wall of the English department building and an unlit cigarette between his lips. Purple eyes scanned the people leaving the building one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. His hopes rose with each blond he saw, only for him to deflate when he realised they weren't her.
A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.
His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him before. Usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.
All because of you.
Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought her gambling friends into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain. He’s not the best person to be around, with how fucked over he was by life until Shinichiro gave him purpose but he loved his sister a lot and everything he did was to protect her. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma and he’d do anything to protect his humanity.
Only to watch it slip through his fingers.
First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet.
The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.
Now it is you, taking the space in her life that belonged to him and Mikey. You’re pushing both of them out of the equation, threatening their position in their sister’s life and everything they know.
Izana wonders how someone so insignificant was so important to Emma that she was willing to cut communications with her own brothers. It baffles him beyond understanding and at the same time enrages him that she could trust you so easily. That she was willing to turn against him in your name.
He took more puffs, skimming throughout the campus for any sight of her. It didn’t matter how he felt about it, as Kisaki had convinced him to ask Emma and you to go shopping, just to get back into Emma's good graces again. Apparently doing a nice gesture publicly for you would convince their sister to give them another chance again.
Especially because Izana had been the biggest opposition to their friendship.
“But Mikey was a little shit about them too.” he grumbles underneath his breath, cigarette in hand. “Why do I have to be the one to apologise? And why did Mikey get an out while I’m doing all the heavy lift-”
His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind and stood up straight, tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.
Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly and earning a shocked gasp escaped her lips.
“Get off me - Izana?”
Her free hand was fast to hit him, but her head was faster in turning around, only to recognize it was just Izana. Her hand stopped inches away from the smirking male’s face, the tension leaving her body and relief taking its place. It doesn’t last long, though as irritation suddenly crawls on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.
A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.
“Were you scared?” He teased, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, despite the glare she gave him in response. “You know no one would dare touch you.”
“Get off me. Your breath stinks like nicotine, I thought you said you quit smoking that shit.”
Ignoring Emma’s last question, he decided to change the topic. “Your lapdog isn't here with you?” he asked. Usually, you would be hovering behind her like a damn pest, so you not being around her was rather strange. 
Emma is quick to shove him off lightly, putting some distance between the two of them, clearly still mad at him. "(Name)'s not feeling well, so she didn't come to class today. I'm on my way to get her medicine."
Oh, that's a surprise.
But with you out of the way, Izana could finally have Emma all to himself for today and hang out with his beloved sister. Maybe even make up for the party thing without apologising to you. Without you here, it’s likely Emma isn’t as mad at the whole situation and is playing it up to make you feel like you have someone on your side.
He knows you’re not going to protest if Emma says she’s in talking terms with her brothers again. It’s a win-win situation and he doesn’t have to grovel or ask for forgiveness for some joke that went wrong.
"So that means we can hang out?"
"Excuse me?"
"You don't have to keep pretending you're still mad at me now that she isn't here." He spews the 'she' with so much venom it could kill, before switching up with a sick grin, his hand stretched out. "We can go to Vivienne Westwood and get that Saturn necklace you like, what do you say?"
His words hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes burning holes into his face as her lips curled into a sick sneer.
“Are you insane?”
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! I just told you (name)'s ill and you're asking me to go with you to shop at Vivienne westwood? Are you nuts?”
Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. Izana kept his composure, despite his bubbling irritation beneath the surface of his skin, with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’
“Oh come on, should I care about her-"
"You should be begging her to forgive you for what you did to her that night!"
"You can't still be mad at me for that shit that happened two weeks ago. And besides, it's not my fault she couldn't take a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth, digging his own grave. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”
“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”
“Calm the fuck dow-”
“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”
“Excuse m-”
He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.
“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”
The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.
It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat. 
“I-I-i" she starts to stutter. It’s obvious that she can recognize what she had just said as he blankly stared at her. "I didn't mean i-”
He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking away as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression. Emma followed behind, instantly, shouting his name at the top of her lungs followed with strings of apologies.
“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.
Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise, her words repeating in his head.
“I didn’t mean it! I’M SORRY-”
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YOU don't know which was worse, the feeling of helplessness that came with the reality of your life crashing before your very eyes or the splitting headache you've developed after crying in your room for a week straight. Laying on your bed all day, huddled up in a blanket and sobbing uncontrollably was unhealthy, but it was all you found the strength to do these days. 
In all your years of being alive, you've never felt this pathetic. Not when you would be pushed outside in the pouring rain if you made a mistake in making dinner, or had been beaten with a belt in front of Yuzhua and Hakkai because you failed your catechism test. You could protect yourself from your brothers when they got violent. You could run and hide when your dad was really angry and wanted to take it out on you.
Unfortunately, no one told you what to do when your life is falling apart.
Ever since that day, you couldn't find the strength to go to class or do anything for that matter. It was like your entire energy was sucked out of you, leaving your body an empty husk with nothing left to give. 
You only have yourself to blame.
You drag the blankets closer to your body, sniffling a bit. The worst part of all of this is that after this month, if you don’t find a job that pays you quickly, you are going to be broke. It’s times like this that makes you regret leaving your family. You know it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if you would be forgiven assuming you return home in tears and repentant of your sin of disobedience like the prodigal son in the bible. Life is too hard to live in the outside world without the help and guidance of a parent. You miss your old life, with your own bed and guaranteed food, as long as you did as you were told. You miss how sometimes your parents took you and your siblings to eat out after church.
You miss your mother. You want to go back to her. Life is hard, and dealing with being jobless with nowhere to turn to is harder. You could ask Emma, but she’s already taking care of you and there was no way you would bother your friend about your money problems.
"Hey babes, I got the medicine for you."
Emma's soft voice rouses you out of your self-pity session. The wood creaks underneath her heels as she walks to your bed and takes a seat besides you, the mattress dipping underneath her weight. The scent of her Vivienne Westwood wafting through your nostrils fills you with a sense of warmth, familiarity and at the same time, dread.
You feel guilty. Perhaps it's because you don't know how to tell Emma what exactly is wrong with you. It's easier to give her the half-truth that you caught a stomach bug than say everything. If you even as much as hinted that Manjiro had something to do with the real reason you were a sobbing mess on your bed, you're sure she would overreact and fight with her brothers again.
But still, not telling her meant you were keeping secrets from her. Something you both promised not to ever do as you two became best-friends.
‘It’s for her own good.’ you try to justify it. ‘It’s better I keep my mouth shut.’
Pushing that thought at the back of your mind, you roll over to her direction, pulling down your blanket just a little bit to see her properly. Your heart drops at the sadness etched onto Emma’s face, a forlorn look in her eyes. You hated seeing her down, yet all you’ve been doing for the past few months since you came into her life was causing her pain. You know how it feels to lose family, no matter how bad they were to you and Emma is no different.
“Hey”
Your voice is hoarse from your constant crying, but Emma doesn’t mention it as she reaches a hand to caress your face. “You look better than yesterday. You up to eat?”
You nodded briefly, realising how hungry you were. You’ve barely had an appetite to eat anything, so your rations had been smaller and compact until you regained it back bit by bit, thanks to Emma’s constant care. Pushing yourself up, you sit up and yawn, quickly covering your mouth the moment a bad stench emanates from it. Emma’s face quickly grows sour as well, probably smelling it too.
“You haven’t showered.”
“Uhhh-”
You knew there was no excuse for that one as Emma put the food and medicine away before yanking you off the bed while talking about how gross you were for not showering throughout today. “You’re a girl (name), don’t do this to yourself, c’mon-”
“But-” you start to whine, trying to defend yourself. “I was tired-”
“Nope!” she retorted, pushing you towards the bathroom. “No excuses! I swear you’re acting like Mikey when he’s in one of his moods-”
The room falls silent at her words, the cheerful aura dropping the second Emma realises what she’s said, a wave of guilt washing over her face as she lets go of your hands.
“Fuck- I’m sorry (name)...”
Your heart aches at how heartbroken she sounds right now and shatters even further at the fact that everything, every problem they were experiencing right now was all your fault. You saw it deep in Mikey’s eyes how much pain and suffering your presence in their family had caused, and how his anger reflected that action towards you. You’ve been so entrenched in your own problems that you forgot the mess you made in their family.
“Emma, you miss them don’t you?”
‘It’s not too late.’ You mutter to yourself, your heart in your throat as you steel your resolve. You couldn’t let her make that mistake you made by leaving your family aside. You don’t want Emma to be like you.
“(Name), please don’t-”
“You can’t keep ignoring them forever.” You cut her short, speaking directly to her now. “You can’t keep ignoring Draken either too. You’re miserable.”
“I’m fin-”
“Emma no.” You snap at her, finally having enough of her stubbornness as anger swells up in you. “I see how sad you look everytime you look at your pictures with your big brothers and Draken. Do you think that it’s healthy to keep ignoring them like this?”
“You were the one they hurt, you shouldn’t feel bad for them-”
“It doesn’t matter! I don’t matter!” You yell desperately, now pulling away from her grasp in an attempt to put your foot down. “They are the ones who matter a lot. Those are you family members! People who love you and have protected you for years! Just talk it out with them! They miss you for god’s sake!”
“What the hell do you mean you don’t matter?” Emma roars back at you, suddenly enraged by your outburst. You nearly stumble back at how angry she sounded, fear creeping into your skin as your verbal claws retract. “You matter to me! You mean the world to me as any of them do! You’re my best friend and I love you and if they don’t understand that then there is nothing to make up for!”
By the time she was done yelling, her breathing was heavy and her eyes so intense you couldn’t even stare at her. Your eyes quickly flickered to your feet instead; scared of seeing the disappointment on her face and terrified of her anger. You didn’t like it when Emma yelled, it reminded you of your mother getting angry at you, something you hated doing to her.
Eventually, she took a deep breath and took a step closer to you, her hand intertwined with yours. “Come on, I’ll help you shower.”
You silently follow behind her, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped.
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  PERHAPS Izana should be angry at Emma.
It would be justified after the words she said from her mouth, but he can’t because he knows the truth. Emma was just angry as well and she didn’t mean any of the words she had said to hurt him. She said them because of you, however and he realises that every fight they’ve had is over your presence in her life.
Which meant that the true culprit was you.
People may believe in love at first sight, but from the first day Izana set his eyes on you, he could only feel hatred towards you. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him.
At first, Izana thought it was the fact that the both of you were clashing personalities that made him feel that way, but then you keep getting in his way and ruining things for him. He hates everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma and how easy it was for her to like you. Just your mere presence in general was enough to set him off because of how simple it was for you to be close to Emma while you barely knew her. It felt like he was losing his only sister to a stranger, and now the Emma who stands in front of him is a mere mockery of his real sister.
And that’s the frustrating part. He can’t do anything to hurt you. He’s smart enough to know that if he does, Emma would never forgive him.
“... Kurokawa, are you here with us?”
Izana snaps back to reality as Kisaki taps the table three times to get his attention. ‘I might have spaced out.’ He thinks to himself before facing the entirety of the table; Tetta Kisaki, the rather shrewd and ruthless dealer sitting, his equally irritating lap dog Shuji Hanma and the little shit that he called his younger brother, Mikey.
Speaking of Mikey, ever since that day he made that phone call and revealed his brand new plan of accepting you into their friend group, he’s been very quiet. Even throughout today’s meeting, he hasn’t said a word, aside from mentioning that Draken was going to be absent and asking where Kakucho was before the meeting began.
And knowing his brother, a quiet Mikey is a suspicious Mikey.
Now that Izana thinks about it, he’s noticed that Mikey, who was on his side initially had suddenly switched to trying to apologise to you. Which was weird, considering how egocentric Mikey could be on the topic of apologising. Izana has his suspicions, but then again Mikey is unpredictable due to his rather dark impulses, so he couldn’t really say anything yet, until Kakucho came back from his task.
Izana cleared his throat and faced Kisaki again, deciding to be as honest as possible. After all, it’s their fault that he’s in this mess, might as well remind them. “Just thinking about how Emma practically called me a bastard and I’m supposed to be okay with it.” He said nonchalantly and the air in the room shifted into an uncomfortable silence for the upteenth time this week ever since that unfortunate day. It isn’t surprising to anyone as to why though, Izana’s complicated relationship with the Sano’s is a sore topic that no one ever dared to bring up.
From Kisaki’s tight lipped expression, Izana is sure that the younger male is picking his words carefully in his head. Even Hanma who would have laughed or said something to intentionally piss off Izana remains silent. Eventually, Kisaki lets out a resigned sigh. “The audit would be done another time.” He states in a cool tone, putting his laptop aside before facing the two brothers. “It’s obvious we’re not gonna do anything useful until you resolve this issue with Emma and her friend.”
“Really?” The white haired male mocks, causing Kisaki to shift in his place, an irritated frown creasing his face. “would you like to hear my pla-”
“We’re not going to kill a civilian and draw attention to ourselves, Izana. I’ve already told you what to do.” Kisaki snapped back, his yellow eyes darting from Izana to Mikey, before narrowing in irritation. “Both of you. Just apologise to (name), it’s not that hard. You don’t even have to mean it, the girl won’t even know the difference-”
“Ah yes, cause that went well the last time.”
“And whose fault is that? I clearly told you to say “I’m sorry” and all you did was make things worse!”
“I’m just brutally honest.” Izana spits back. “And you can’t blame me because I tried, compared to Mikey who sits on his damn ass and has done nothing-”
“I wasn’t the one who called her a cheap hooker!” Mikey interjects defensively, sitting upright after staying quiet from the start of this meeting, finally saying something.
“Oh, so you can speak.” Izana retorts back, his voice cold. Mikey is so good at shifting blame onto others for actions he has a hand in, especially when he knows it would reflect badly on him. Unfortunately, Izana has been in this game longer than his little brother. “I thought you had gone mute with the way you don’t want to talk about the issue beyond pushing me to apologise to her.”
“You don’t make it any easier with how you talk to people.” Mikey hisses back, his tempo rising with each word, but Izana can hear the slight shake in his voice, almost as if he’s hiding something. “How am I supposed to do anything if you keep saying shit like you’re glad (name)’s gone?”
(Name)?
The entire room falls silent at Mikey’s sudden outburst, or rather what Mikey had just said. No one says a word as they all stare at Mikey in shock, eye wide and mouth hanging open like he’d grown two heads. There’s a glimmer of confusion in the dark eyed male before the realisation of his mistake washes over him, his facial expression changing into a mixture of guilt and pure terror.
As if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.
It’s unmistaken. Izana knows his brother is hiding something and it has to do with you. “You’ve never,” he starts slowly, never taking his eyes off Mikey, gauging his facial expression. “called her by her name. You only call girls who you had something to do with by their name.”
“I-”
“You fucked her, didn’t you.” it’s a statement, not a question. Mikey grows pale and it's more of a sure answer than anything else at all.
“I didn’t do anything bad… she’s still a virgin-”
“What.” Kisaki, interjecting as well, cuts him off, his voice cold. “Did. You. Do?”
Mikey is silent. It’s brief and doesn’t last long as he finally seals his fate with a quiet voice. “It’s not my fucking fault, she wore a short skirt and she was asking for it-”
At the side, Kisaki crumples back onto the dining table seat, his head in his hands muttering a quiet “Oh fuck, I should have stayed with Osanai.” as he shakes in disbelief. Hanma just sits there, clearly perturbed, not knowing how to react but at the same time, not really interested.
“Glad to know I’m not the only screw up.” Izana scoffs as well. Despite how cheery his voice sounded, the furious look on his face says a different story altogether. “Since apparently you’re just as stupid as I am.”
Mikey runs a hand through his golden locs, frustration evident on his features. No one has ever seen him look so frantic, like a little kid who broke something and is trying to hide it. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Sure she said no at first but I knew she wanted it when she relaxed in my touch-”
“That’s not what Emma’s gonna think, you idiot!” Izana barks at him angrily, his temper finally off the rails. “You practically threw away your entire plan before it even started! All for what? Mediocre pussy you could get from some other girl? And you know how Shin is about this shit. If Emma finds out and tells him, we’re screwed!”
There’s a mixture of emotions swirling in Izana right now. The urge to punch Mikey was strong, for daring to not only lie to his face, but also making him look like a fool to cover his ass.
Then again, he knows it’s really not Mikey’s fault but yours. You must have done something to make Mikey hurt you because he knows his little brother doesn’t hurt girls. You have this effect of turning people into worse versions of themselves, making them disgusting, evil and hateful.
You turned Emma against them and now you made Mikey’s dark impulses come out.
It’s you that’s the problem.
“So what anyone find out? They won’t believe her” Mikey snarls back, irritated. “She can’t blame me, I told her to fucking leave but she didn’t listen! She was practically begging me to fuck her-”
“ENOUGH!”
Kisaki’s voice is loud enough to silence the two brothers, ending their argument instantly as they breathe heavily from their prior screaming match. Izana slumps back on his seat as Kisaki sits up straight, eyes narrowed. Mikey does the same as Izana, his jaw tightly clenched as he crosses his arms on his chest, feet crossed. The younger male clears his throat, and starts to rationalise the situation.
“It’s obvious that we’re going to switch gears since this happened. We all have a curated reputation that we need to protect so that people don’t nose into our business.” He turns to Mikey who is still glaring hard at Izana. “Your brother has a point, you fucked up our plan by not telling anyone what you did-”
“You judging me too, Kisaki?”
“Can you stop being defensive for once Mikey and just listen!” Kisaki scolds, just about done with everyone making things more difficult for him. “I don’t care what you did to her, whatever affection or lust you have for her is a you problem. I just want this situation to be in our favour.”
The statement makes Izana scoff in dismal fashion, but he decides to ask out of curiosity regardless. “And how do you intend to turn this situation around? Cause right now she has leverage over us and any careless move can put us in a tougher spot than we can handle.”
Kisaki turns his attention fully towards Izana again, a knowing look on his face as he asks. “Is Kakucho done searching Mikey’s car?”
‘How did he know?’ Izana blinks, but then catches Hanma smirking and doesn’t bother to ask his impending questions. Kisaki always had a nasty and suspicious habit of continuously tailing him specifically, and usually it doesn’t go over Izana’s radar when it happens, apart from this instance. Which meant someone was being a rat in his group.
He’ll deal with that later.
Mikey raised a brow in confusion as well, opening his mouth to protest the invasion of his privacy when Izana’s phone suddenly rings. He picks it up, attempting to step out to answer it when Kisaki raises his hand to stop him.
“Answer it here.” Kisaki said, ignoring the way Izana looks at him like he has two heads. “and put it on speaker.”
He had no reason to comply, but he wanted to see where Kisaki was going with whatever plan he had. With a wry smile, Izana put the phone down on the table and slid the answer button, putting it on a loudspeaker.
“Did you find anything Kakucho?”
Ever loyal, Kakucho clears his throat and starts to speak, his voice sounding strained over the phone, as if he’s struggling with something. “Yes boss.” He answers, a twinge of nervousness coating his tone. “There’s a dash cam on the mirror and a spy cam underneath the compartment facing the passenger’s seat…”
Mikey grumbles under his breath something about fucking Kakucho up if anything ends up spoilt or missing in his car but Kisaki holds his hand up to his lips and shushes him. Izana continues once he’s sure his brother is done complaining. “And did you confirm the anonymous tip that we got?”
He can hear Kakucho shift uncomfortably, the silence on the other side of the phone drawn out until he finally says. “Boss, it’s too … I don’t think we should use this against her.” He tries to reason. “I think we’re going too far-”
“Perfect.” Kisaki chimes in, now looking at Izana with a satisfied smile. Kakucho is about to ask why Kisaki was there but Izana cuts him off instead. “Bring it back. I’ll explain once you come to the house.”
“Okay boss.”
The phone line dies and Kisaki, fairly confident in his plan, looks at Izana once again. “I’m sure you know where I’m going, right?”
Izana may think Kisaki is a pathetic brat who just happened to be smart, but right now, it’s like the both of them are connected and in tune with their thoughts. The tanned male stretches his lips into a smile, one full of malice and at the same time, glee, his eyes light with mirth when he realises what Kisaki was thinking.
Finally a plan he could follow along with.
“Alright, I’m all ears.”
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THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.
By the time you managed to catch a bus after spending the entire day looking for a job and getting back to campus, it was already late in the night. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.
You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 00am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.
A long time ago before the world weighed you down, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.
Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.
“Can you show me the book?” your father asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.
Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you: “Women don’t dream.”
Maybe that was the day you realised the love you craved from your father will never be given to you. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars, the memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.
You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this. Today had been one disappointment to another
You passed by Emma’s dorm building, a sigh escaping your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.
Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.
It was already complicated before it began but at least she's taking your advice and talking to them again.
Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.
A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available. You felt greedy for this, after spending a week with her, you should let her be free.
‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’
Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realise that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatised you.
‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘Oh God, how far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’
You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched.
Silence.
You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Nighttime always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.
You should just get out of here.
Eventually, you make it to your dorm house in record time, a sigh of relief escaping your lips. ‘Maybe I’m being paranoid. But at least I’m safe now.’ You think to yourself as you push the door open, closing it behind you.
Weary from the day’s stress, your body starts to give up on you but you push through, trying your best to just make it to your room. You’re sure you would just collapse on your bed the second you got there and forget about anything else.
But as you reach for the handle, a feeling of dread washes over you, the same one you felt when you were outside. ‘I really need to let this go. There’s no harm waiting for me. It’s just my room.’ You mutter to yourself. Your overthinking has cost you a lot, from your job to your academics and right now, you really need it to stop. Pushing whatever feeling was keeping you away, you walked into the darkened room.
You finally make it to your room, about to rummage your bag for the keys when you notice the door was unlocked. ‘Oh? Ami must have come back rather early, since I barely see her until 2am.’
(From here is edited)
The first thing that greeted you was the stench of some kind of smoke -weed, the kind that Ami liked to use whenever she was in the room. You always hated the smell and you recall telling her to leave the windows open whenever she wanted to smoke. Coughing, you quickly covered your nose and mouth with one hand and reached to turn on the light with another. “Ami, how many times have I told you to open the window whenever you smoke? You know I don’t like the smell-”
Your blood turns to ice the moment light floods the room, your mouth dry as you stare at the man perched on your reading chair, a leg crossed over the other, the weed blunt hanging between his tanned hands. His lips are stretched into a sick grin, showing all his teeth, purple eyes shining with an odd mirth as he glances at you up and down.
Izana Kurokawa.
‘Run’
You don’t need to be told twice, quickly discarding your bag and running towards the direction of the door, only to hit someone hard, standing tall in your way. You look up fearfully to see mismatched eyes, a scar running down his face and flinch backwards in reflex. It’s as if he gazes at you with pity, but quickly switches to a blank stare as he stands between you and the door.
You know him from hanging around Emma a lot in the Tenjiku frat house, Kakucho. He’s always around Izana and only loyal to him for some reason that you don’t know. He doesn’t listen to anyone else, not even Mikey. You realise that he might have been the one that was following you when you were walking home.
Begging him to let you pass would be futile.
“Don’t worry, I’m just here to have a little chat with you. I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone is calm, but it doesn’t bring you any comfort. If Mikey could hurt you without any remorse, then there’s nothing stopping Izana from doing worse to you. “And as much as your backside is as interesting as your face, I prefer talking to someone who is looking at me.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.” The words fly out from your mouth before you even think of a more appropriate response but it doesn’t seem to give him any form of reaction other than a dry laugh.
He scoffed. “I don’t care. Turn around.”
Reluctantly you slowly turn to face him again, your body trembling as your fear filled eyes lock with his. Your heart drops to your stomach when you hear heavy footsteps walk out of the door, shutting it behind you, locks turning and trapping you with Izana.
‘Oh God oh God oh God.’
Your fear doesn’t go unnoticed by the white haired man, and he only chuckles at how stiff you were. Between the two brothers, you know Izana thrives in fear, using it to his advantage and it’s not unfounded. Notwithstanding his backing from Black dragons, Izana had taken Tenjiku from a down and out frat house, to a den of crime that holds power, trickling right into the administration of the university. Even his men know better than to ever get themselves in his bad books, because no one can ever escape him, no matter how much you try to run.
It was only a matter of time until he would make you pay for causing him problems, but you didn’t think he’d come by himself. You felt stupid for thinking he wouldn’t care about you or he’d forget how angry he was at you and leave you alone, especially with Emma still not on speaking terms with them.
He motions with his bunt for you to come closer to him and you comply, taking careful steps until you’re standing right in front of him. He eyes you again with a tepid frown. “When you meet a king, you don’t stand before him, you kneel.”
Kneel. You want to assume he’s not serious but you know better than to question him and go down on your knees, focusing your gaze firmly on your lap. It’s humiliating the way he has you at his mercy, without even moving an inch but it’s better to be compliant than to aggravate him even further by being disobedient.
You’ve learned the hard way what could happen if you resist.
From the corner of your eyes, you watch as Izana puts out his weed blunt on your reading table leaving a sorching mark on the table, before reaching behind his waistband. Your mouth grows dry the second you see the gun, your heart pounding against your chest as he presses the barrel to your head.
‘Oh god.’ You gasp as he presses it further against your head, until you’re sure it would leave an indent. ‘He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me…’
“That’s odd,” He murmurs. “Usually, other people would be begging for their lives when met with a gun to their head, but you’re quiet. If not for the way your hands are trembling, I’d think you weren’t scared.”
This time, with a gun pointed at your head, you’re careful with your words. “Y-you said you won’t hurt me.” Your voice shakes with fear but you continue. You know men like Izana, he reminds you of your older brother who ruled the house apart from your father, with fear and control. Sometimes, when you were able to stroke his ego, he’d go easy on you. Maybe that would work on Izana too. “That you want to talk.”
“And what if I changed my mind? Pulled the trigger? That’ll make my life easier, yeah? I won’t have to fight for my sister’s love and affection with you.” 
Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear the safety go off and watch as his finger curls around the trigger. ‘Oh God, he’s going to kill me. He’ll shoot me dead. I-i have to say something- I don’t want to die-’
“I-i trust you not to do it.” You reply, your lips trembling as you struggle not to think of your head scattered into pieces on the floor if he chooses to kill you. “You’re a man of your words.”
There’s another complete silence that engulfs the entire room, until you hear a click that makes you flinch for a split second, waiting for the bullet that would end it all. Instead, it’s him putting the safety back on, and chuckling at your reaction.
“You trust me? How foolish.” He laughs, tracing the gun from your head down to underneath your chin and forcing you to look up at him. You’ve only read about people with empty eyes in stories, but seeing it in person was so terrifying. “Is that why you ended up with Mikey in his car?”
All the blood rushes from your head to the tip of your toes. “H-how do you kn-”
“I have eyes and ears in this school, (name).” You’re sure it’s the first time you’ve heard him call you by your name and despite being in a life or death situation, you couldn’t control the shiver that ran through your spine. “You wanted him to touch you, right?”
“T-that is not what happened!” You suddenly cried out, trying to explain your own side of the story. Of all the people who know your dirty and shameful secret, Izana is the worst pick, just your luck. “It was a mistake! I tried to tell him I didn’t want it but I couldn’t-”
“Ah ah -” Izana cuts you off, tilting your chin higher with the gun. “Don’t lie to me. You must have planned the entire thing to make Mikey look bad”
“No! I wasn’t trying to do anything, I just wanted to talk-”
“Really? Cause Mikey told me an entirely different story-”
“No, no I- didn’t… -”
“You were dangling yourself like a piece of meat for him to fuck and he’s a man, you know. He has urges and it's hard to resist temptation.”
“That’s not true-” your lips start to tremble at his words, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to be assaulted, you just wanted to talk to him about the Emma issue and you wanted to apologise. “That’s not true-”
“Oh but it is.” He said firmly, now leaning in closer to your face until there’s barely any inches between the two of you. “And now Mikey feels like a piece of shit because he couldn’t stop himself.”
“No-” your voice is small, trying to defend yourself but even you are beginning to doubt your own credibility with how he keeps twisting the narrative around until you begin to actually believe him.
‘No! Don’t let him make you think you’re in the wrong! You know what happened!’
“He even told you to leave but you refused to. You were baiting him to just do something to you so that you can tell everyone how bad Mikey is and make yourself get more sympathy points. Am I wrong?”
“No! I would never do that to Mikey!” You don’t realise your tempo had suddenly gotten high or that tears had started to drip down your face, but Izana did. He doesn’t point it out, staying quiet as you start to shout at him. “I would never bait him into hurting me! I just wanted to make up with him because I felt that I overreacted at the party I swear! And then he touched me in the car -”
“And you never reported him to the school authorities? Why? Did you want to blackmail him for money-”
“Because I love him!”
The words flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself from saying them.
Your heart drops as a mischievious glint appears in Izana’s eyes. His smile drops slightly, still maintaining the gun on your chin. “You love him?” He says slowly, testing out the words on his lips. “Love? Mikey?” He looks so deep in thought, like the concept sounds so foreign to him that he almost can’t believe it. His gaze falls back to you again, a quiet scoff emanating from his lips. “You really have no shame, do you?”
Unable to maintain eye contact with him, you break away from his gaze, biting down on your lips to prevent yourself from falling apart. When you don’t respond, Izana takes your silence as an opportunity to keep talking. “If you love him so much, then what’s wrong with what you both did in the car that day? It was what you wanted, wasn't it?”
“Not like that…”
“But you claim to love him.” Izana is calm and cool, while you’re stuttering on your words, making you look like you’re the one who is wrong. Like what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense to begin with and he’s the one saying something of reason. “And yet, you didn’t even notice he wasn’t himself that day. Or did you take advantage of his fragile state of mind?”
“I would NEVER-”
“You would, because you get to be the so-called victim and he gets to be the villain in your own story. Do you really know the implication of your actions?”
“That’s not right.” You don’t even realize how quiet you’ve gotten, your voice full of uncertainity. “I didn’t … it’s not…”
“Shut up.” He cuts you off again with a firm tone, tapping the gun on your chin gently to enunciate his point. “The reason why I haven’t put a bullet through your head as much as I want to is because I love Emma. I love Emma so much I’d kill for her and I’d resist the urge to kill for her. That’s how Sano’s love. That’s true love. That's something you'll never ever experience.”
You stay silent, trying to understand what exactly Izana was calling love. He leaned closer, making you feel even smaller. “If Emma finds out, she’ll think Mikey intentionally hurt you and she will hate him. But I guess that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Never. I don’t want her to hate him” your inner voice telling you it’s not your fault, is nothing more than a whisper, the feeling of guilt and shame overtaking you until you’re almost suffocating. “I just want them to be happy…”
“Then you know exactly what you’re meant to do, right?”
Of course you know what to do. Ever since you were child, it’s been drilled into your head. Whenever your brothers hit you a bit too hard or your father went overboard with his belt and you ended up in the hospital, your mother would take you aside to issue a warning that still rings in your head. That had terrible consequences if you refused to follow through with it.
You nod weakly. It really doesn’t matter what is right and wrong when it comes to the Sano’s, but what they want. Izana taps the gun on your chin again, shaking his head. “I need a verbal answer.”
“I won’t tell anybody what happened. Especially not Emma.”
Satisfied, he withdrew his gun from your chin and your face falls onto his lap, unable to support your head any longer. You feel a hand reaching down to pet your head, like you were a dog who had just been tamed by her new owner. The strength to push him off or stand up had left you, feeling drained as the weight of guilt settle down on your shoulders, heavily. You know you shouldn’t believe anything Izana says, but then again he does have a point. Maybe you should have been more receptive of Mikey’s touch or at least be polite about declining him instead of shoving him off and hurting his pride.
You feel so utterly powerless. Despite being wronged, you know there’s nothing you can really do to save yourself. You don’t think you can bear the traumatic experience of being an outlier again.
Mikey. You don’t want to hurt him. You don’t want anyone thinking he’s a bad person over a singular action.
'Maybe it’s not as bad as I think, I did enjoy it mid-way, so it should count as something. Right?'
You feel sick just trying to think about it.
“You know, if you’re this obedient, we can get along just fine.” He hums, breaking the silence as he pets your head gently. You hate yourself right now. How easy it is to do whatever it is that you’re told because disobedience is not an option. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know what I’ll do to you if you break your promise.”
“No” your voice is quiet. You feel tired, sick maybe, you don’t know. Maybe it’s the weed he smoked earlier affecting your judgement and reasoning. Or it’s the lack of sleep that has made it difficult for you to think straight or stand up. Either way, you don’t care. “I don’t.”
“Good girl.”
Bonus:
You know he’s mocking you, but you accept it, like you do with every circumstance thrown at you.
  IZANA looks down at your sleeping figure with a curious gaze.
For a moment, he almost pities you. Despite the faint glow of the room lighting, he can see the dark circles underneath your eyes and how stressed you look. For someone who is actively working to pay her fees while sustaining herself with no one caring for her, it must be hard being abandoned by society.
He can see why Emma picked you to be her friend, she always had a trait of picking up stray animals who had no one because she wanted something to protect. It’s no different with you, the way she’s so fiercely loyal to you and why she wanted you to be accepted by their family. No wonder she was hurt when you were vehemently rejected by them.
If he had a conscience, he’d feel bad for you. You love Mikey, of all people, someone who only saw you as a nuisance and to push the blame of his actions onto. All those times Mikey was cruel to you must have hurt the most because you truly cared about what he thinks about you.
He’s careful when he lifts your head from his lap, not wanting to wake you up. He puts your head on the chair and turns to leave, already overstaying his welcome. He’s done the thing he was supposed to, ensuring you stayed quiet about Mikey’s actions and there’s no need for him to be here any longer.
As he walked to the door, his mind goes back to you. In a way, you and him were similar. All alone, unwanted, with nobody in the world to care about you, cold, uncaring parents who didn’t think twice in terms of abandoning you both. The only difference between you and him is that he grew a backbone and you haven’t. You’re like a kicked dog who continues to stay on the ground to get kicked, in hopes the person kicking you stops eventually.
As long as you stay on the ground, people like him will keep kicking you.
He knocks loudly on the door and the locks turn. Kakucho opens it for him, peering inside with a worried gaze, his eyes settling on your body slumped over a chair.
“Did you hit -”
“I didn’t touch her.” Izana snaps at the taller male, stepping out of the room properly. “She’s fine, physically at least. Emotionally she’s a mess. But that’s Mikey’s problem to fix.”
“Huh?”
It wouldn’t hurt to tell Kakucho your little secret.  “Apparently (name)’s in love with my dear brother Mikey so she’s keeping quiet what he did to her.” a cruel smile stretches across his face. “How pathetic.”
Kakucho frowns at Izana’s statement, but as usual he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead, his eye darts back to your form again, taking a good look at you, his eyes softening. Ever the gentleman.
“She shouldn’t really stay like that Izana, she’ll get a stiff neck-”
“Kakucho.”
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That was enough to end the conversation.
special thanks to: (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @maraya-007 @thisismarisaaa @reeyy0-2 @littlemisspropaganda @cherie026
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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months ago
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: James "helps" you organize your old belongings to move them to the cellar.
Prompt: friends to lovers ~ "don't bite your lip, bite mine."
@moonlightspencie for you, my lovely!
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
BLURB MASTERLIST
James promised to help you organize and move all your childhood belongings into your cellar. Only, you should have known he wouldn't be much help at all.
You're sitting in the middle of your bedroom, the carpet covered in various nick-knacks and memories as James lays on his stomach on your bed and flips through some old muggle teenage magazine. 
"Who's John Lennon and why is this muggle magazine obsessed with him?"
You blow some hair away from your eyes. "A singer. He was in a band." You throw a pair of old sneakers in the discard pile and groan. "Jamie, you're being no help!"
James throws the magazine onto your bed and scrunches his nose as he rests his chin on his hands. "He's not even cute, y'know, muggle birds have shit taste."
"Never said John Lennon was cute, James," you say, glaring at him, "Now, can you come help look through that box for me?" you point to the box near your hip that's labeled postcards/letters.
James jumps down from the bed and sits crisscross next to you, his legs bouncing uncontrollably. He's unable to keep still for even a minute sometimes. You know this and so you just let him do his thing.
"Why do you keep all these?" he asks absentmindedly as he rummages inside the box, making sure everything inside corresponds to the label, occasionally discarding trash, trinkets, and even a pair of thankfully clean socks.
"Because they're to and from people I care about," you whisper, folding an old sweaters to donate. "They're memories."
James hums, clearly reading something and you turn your head, seeing him fully reading one of your letters. You snatch it from him and glare at him again. "You're being a pain," you say, your tone lacking in malice. 
"You never sent that one," he points to the letter and looks down at it, your breath leaving you when you see the name written on the front of the folded paper you hadn't even put in an envelope. 
James F. Potter.
 The letter is addressed to him.
A sense of dread creeps in on you and you have an awful feeling in your stomach that means you remember exactly which letter it is. You throw it in the box again, shrugging as your voice trembles, "Must not have been important."
James's gaze stays on you and he tilts his head in question. "Is it still true? You're in love with me."
Your chest tightens and you freeze, letting his words sink in. He'd read it. "How fast can you read?" you joke nervously, avoiding looking at him. This wasn't supposed to happen. 
James laughs. He laughs and you feel like sobbing so you do the next best thing which is hold in your tears as you sink your teeth into your lip, hard enough to hurt and distract you. 
"Woah," James's voice interrupts your self-loathing as he sits up on his knees and holds your chin. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth. "Hey, darling, don't do that," he whispers sternly and uses his other hand to push some hair away from your forehead and then he tucks some of the strands behind your ear.
"Can you look at me?"
You feel so embarrassed that he'd read your confession. A confession you'd written almost a year ago and that you'd never sent in fear of ruining the best friendship you've ever had.
You squeeze your eyes shut. "Hey," James mumbles and his hand rests against your cheek, his thumb still close to your lips. "Did you mean it? Do you still mean it?"
What point is there lying now?
You nod and your eyes open as you try and chew on your lip, a nervous habit you've always had and James stops you again with his thumb on your lip again and he frowns. 
"Don't you bite your lip, if anything bite mine," he says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He looks completely serious too and your heart leaps.
James's signature smirk curls his lips and he grips your chin, pulling you in. "Like this," he says, his breath warm on your lips, and then he's kissing you.  
It's hesitant and unfamiliar for few seconds until you relax and your arms find his neck, pulling yourself in even closer as you deepen the kiss.
You feel like you're in a cloud and all you can feel is James's arms wrapping themselves around your waist. You smile into his mouth and tilt your head, your teeth sinking into his lip like he'd wanted.
From the passion, your bodies accidentally slip and as you fall over James, his elbow accidentally hits the box and sends all the contents spilling on the floor. 
"Oops," he pipes up, his voice breathless as he looks up at you, your hands beside his head as you look down at him. His hands remain on your hips and his lip is a little crimson and swollen from your bite.
His grin only widens.
"See, much better than when you bite yours," he chuckles.
You echo his laughter and then lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips.   
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