#I changed his face n hair like ten times n I am still unsure

[wool-string]

I am STRUGGLING

[nifolution]

Letters 2

Warnings: Heartbreak, Angst, Manipulation, lies, threats, arguments, mentions of conception, allusion of smut

A/N: This is a revised copy of my oc fic. It is still written in 3rd person. Steve was rescued from the Valkyrie crash. He became a world hero and came back home with Peggy to start his life. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist     Main Masterlist

Chapter 2 

Steve found he couldn’t stay away from the Sunrise. At first he had breakfast there every Friday, then more frequently as the weeks went by. He was drawn to the cafe, but not by the food. The conversations with Y/N started tense and awkward, but got friendlier with each visit. 

It was almost like it was before everything happened. Although, the absence of his best friend was heavily felt each time he sat down. Back then, Bucky would sometimes have to split a meal with him. Y/N would always make sure TJ added extra to the plate so there was enough food. They all used to take care of each other. He missed that.

The clock showed it was ten after six when he arrived. Sunrise had just opened, so no one else was there besides TJ, Y/N and an elderly man reading the paper. Steve was used to being up and about early, he didn’t sleep much anymore. Partly from still being on a military schedule, but also from the nightmares that never ended, even after he opened his eyes. Lives taken, lives lost, so much blood and destruction. It was always right there in his peripheral vision. 

He sat down by where Y/N was leaning over the counter with her own paper. Only instead of news, she was scanning apartment ads. A determined look on her face, he watched her circle one. “Looking to move?”

Y/N frowned, “I have to. Can’t afford to keep our-uh-my apartment anymore.” She stumbled over her words, hoping he didn’t notice. It was supposed to be their place, once upon a time. The landlord only agreed to the rental because Steve was moving in once they got married. She held onto her home as long as she could, but money was tight. She lost her second job when the war ended and the boys came home. Savings only got her so far, it was time to find a cheaper place.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Steve wondered where she resided now, maybe there was something he could do to help. He hated the thought of her living alone. “So no fiancé, no roommate, no one to help with the bills?”

Was he trying to rub salt in the wound? “No, I live alone and I like it that way.” She stood up and crossed her arms, “Besides, no one wants to share space with a spinster fruitlessly waiting for her man to return from war. I’m better off with it being just me.” 

Steve hated hearing her so defeated. “That sounds lonely.” He would know. Even though he was married to Peggy, most days and nights he was by himself. Her job was important, he understood, but he missed having someone to share his time with. “I hope you are able to find a place that suits you.”

Y/N’s mouth twitched, “I'm still not used to hearing you talk like that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don't sound like you. Like your accent was scrubbed away.” She shrugged, “The hair, the clothes, your stiff posture. You could be anybody, a stranger.”

His brows knitted, unsure if she was trying to start with him. “Well that is what we are now, isn’t it?”

She’s not sure why that touched a nerve. “The only stranger here is you. I’m who I’ve always been. I'm not the one that lost who I am.” 

Steve didn’t want to argue, “I lost a lot of things.” The accusation was on target to boot, and that vexed him. “People change. The moment you think you know someone, they prove you wrong.” He fixed her with a hard stare that didn’t hold. He truly didn’t want to fight with her.

Y/N visibly relaxed, she wasn't even mad, not really. It wasn't like Steve to back out of a fight, though, not even with her. She quickly got him a coffee as a peace offering. “So supersoldier; stronger, better eyesight…” She remembered when he excitedly told her he could see all the colors now, and that everything was clear, no more fuzzy lights. She was so happy for him. “I have to ask, how's your tastebuds?”

He laughed, “Top notch.”

“Great, consider yourself our new taste tester. TJ needs help deciding which new dish will be next week's special.” Y/N walked to the back to let her boss know. 

An hour later, Steve was stuffed. He’d eaten four generously portioned meals in his quest to pick the best one. It was a hard choice, he enjoyed all of them. He wasn’t obligated to finish his plates, but didn’t want the food to go to waste. 

Her curiosity peaked as she watched him savor each taste. Telling her his sense of smell and hearing was just as heightened, which wasn’t always a good thing for him. There were things a person shouldn’t know. Y/N thought about how he used to be hard of hearing, although he was too proud to admit it back then. She reached out and put her hand over his, “What about touch?” 

Steve practically jumped out of his seat, heart in his throat. “I’m sorry. I have a… I have to go.” He apologized again and ran out, unsure why he reacted that way. The warmth of her hand lingered the entire trip home. He tried shaking it off, it had to be in his head. Peggy had been away for too long. He attempted to call her, but her secretary informed him she wasn’t available. She rarely was. Leaving a short message, Steve sat down and waited. Unsure what to do with himself. 

---------------

Another phone call and he had Y/N’s address. She never left their apartment. Well, he supposed it was only ever hers, he never got the chance to move in. What would possess her to stay there for so long. She had worked two jobs to afford to do so. It didn’t make sense. 

Before he could contemplate his decision, he found himself parked in front of the building. Steve got out and walked inside. His foot had just touched the first creaky step when a head poked out the nearest door. 

The man’s face swiftly changed from suspicion to shock. “Ca-ca-Captain America. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Steve pointed up the stairs, “Just visiting a friend.”

“May I ask which resident?” The landlord closed his own door and shuffled over to Steve.

“Y/N Y//L/N.”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid she isn’t home. Most likely working another double. Should arrive in another hour or so.”

“Shoot,” Steve dragged his hand over his mouth, “Would it be possible for me to wait here?”

“For you, Sir, I’ll let you wait up in her apartment.” The landlord chuckled as he climbed the steps, “If you can’t trust Captain America, who can you trust?” He led Steve to the third floor, down a dimly lit hallway, and unlocked Y/N’s door. Sighing, the landlord swung it open, “She was a good tenant, I’ll miss her.” He tilted his head momentarily, “On the bright side I can charge more for this place with her improvements. Still a shame though.” He reached out to shake Steve’s hand, “It was an honor to meet you, Captain”

Steve shook the man’s hand, “Likewise and thank you.” He watched the landlord retreat down the hall before entering and closing the door. He barely recognized the place. The two bedroom apartment was small, simple and no longer had the odor it once did. The window by the fire escape was fixed, as was the hole in the floor and the kitchen seemed to be in working order. It looked comfortable, lived in. Not resembling the husk of a dwelling it used to be.

He walked around admiring her touches. Everything screamed Y/N, from the wallpaper to the mismatched crockery. The curtains were handmade, as were the blanket and pillows on the bed. The small dining table had a leg replaced and although no piece of furniture was part of a set, it all seemed like it belonged here.

He could have been happy here, it could have been home. Most days he and Y/N didn't have two nickels to rub together, but they had each other. That used to be enough for her. Steve could understand why someone with money turned her head while he was away. He wished she would have waited for him. He would have given her anything she wished for. 

Still, he didn't want her to lose it. Running down to the landlord, he paid for three months rent in advance. Then returned to wait in Y/N’s apartment. It was no more than twenty minutes when he heard someone rushing up the stairway. He knew it was her before the door slammed open. 

Y/N’s eyes blazed as she snarled at him, “What the HELL do you think you are doing?”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to see you. Your landlord let me in. I can come back if this is a bad time.” Steve stood up, slowly approaching, hoping to calm her.

Her hand dipped into her coat pocket, pulling out a handful of cash she shoved it into Steve’s chest. “I made my landlord give it back. What gives you the right to do such a thing?”

“I was trying to help. I’m sorry if I overstepped…”

“Oh you overstepped plenty. First you pop back in my life like nothing has changed, then you show up here and invite yourself into MY home. To top it off, you have the audacity to make me look like some helpless woman that can’t pay her own way.” Her fists were shaking, barely containing the rage she felt. “Well I’ve got news for you, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing just fine on my own. I don't need a man to look after me and I certainly don’t need you.”  

Steve swallowed, he messed up. “I meant no harm, I was trying to get you a little ahead so you could keep your apartment. I never intended to make you look bad or incapable in any way.” He licked his lips, “Listen, if you won’t take the money, maybe I can do something else. I could put in a good word for you to help you get a better job. If you need to go to school, I’ll pay for it. Whatever you need I can get you.” He grasped her hands, pleading, “Let me help you.”

Y/N shook her head. No, she would not accept any of it. “I don't want anything from you, Steve. I just wanted you.” She yanked her hands away. It wasn’t fair, why was he here now? It’s too late, he’s married and she’s struggling to survive. He can’t do this to her. Y/N’s voice began to crack, “I loved you, I wanted to marry you. It was supposed to be us.” 

Then why did you leave me, Steve wanted to scream. His mouth hung open, not understanding her outburst. So many questions on the tip of his tongue he couldn’t form a sentence. 

His silence was too much for her to take. “Get out!”

Steve’s eyes widened in alarm, “What?”

She shoved him out the door, knowing he could stop her if he wanted. “Just get the hell out. Out! Out!” As soon as his feet passed the barrier, she shut the door in his face.

Steve stood there for what felt like ages. Hoping Y/N would reconsider and let him back in. He felt helpless, how could he get through to her that he wanted to take care of her, not because she couldn’t, but because he was her friend. He still had feelings for her. More than he wanted to admit, more than he was at liberty to say out loud.

Chapter 3

[loopy-froots]

Childhood Friends

Brahms Heelshire x afab!Reader

Author: @loopy-froots

Word Count: 3261 (WOW wtf…)

Slight request by @leahromanof : small age gap (Brahms is 26-28 and the reader is 20)

Summary: The Reader grew up very close to the Heelshire family, as their parents were business partners with them. However, after the fire incident, Brahms and the Reader took some space from each other. While the Reader knew Brahms was still alive, they didn’t know under the circumstances he was. When a sudden tragedy strikes their family, the Reader is left with no home. The Heelshire family offer their home with welcoming arms, but much has changed between all of them since they have last seen each other.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, swearing, slasher x reader, smut, virgin/unprotected sex (masc and fem), abusive parents (fem), insecurities (on both parts), slight age gap (6ish years?), a slight size kink (if you squint?), etc.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t too sure what to write for the age gap so I hope this is good enough!!! I also threw in a lot of personal needs I’ve been having, so I hope y’all don’t mind! Feel free to let me know your thoughts!!!

~~~

*2nd Person POV*

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were finally going to see your beloved childhood friend, Brahms Heelshire, again after close to ten years of separation. You wished this was not under these circumstances, as you never intended to cause your family such turmoil.

“Y/n! Come in, why don’t you?” Mr. Heelshire exclaims as he opens his front door. He must have seen you walk up their driveway. You can see Mrs. Heelshire inside, but she shares a concerning expression. Trying to brush it off, you step inside and am greeted by the warmth of the house. It was a terribly chilly winter day, and the walk there exhausted you.

“Come, dear! Let me get you a cup of tea to warm you up! You look rather frozen!” Mrs. Heelshire snaps out of her funk and laughs al0ng with her husband. Their jovial attitude makes you feel rather welcomed and loved.

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire… I… I’m terribly sorry that this all happened… especially so suddenly…” You look down with embarrassment.

“Nonsense! We’re always happy to have you, Y/n! Our home is yours!” Mr. Heelshire smiles at you, but you get a somewhat urgent vibe from him. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you figure since they’re being ever so kind you were in no position to question.

“Now, dear… why don’t you tell us exactly what happened… Perhaps we may help with your parents’ situation?” Mrs. Heelshire gently suggests, but you shake your head in disagreement.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure that’s possible… you see, I recently came out to my parents as non-binary… they’ve never been overly supportive of that kind of stuff, but I knew I couldn’t hide myself any longer…” You explain shamefully.

“Oh my… that is a rather difficult predicament, hm? However, we want you to know that we fully support you… in fact, our own Brahms considers himself genderfluid,” Mrs. Heelshire shares, which honestly makes you feel less alone.

“Really? I… I had no idea… Thank you, but speaking of which… where is Brahms…? Does he still live with you?” You wonder.

“Oh, um… yes… he does, but he’s grown to be rather… timid… so he doesn’t always come out when people are visiting…” Mr. Heelshire explains swiftly, and you try to understand. You don’t fully know what he’s been through, so who are you to judge his social anxieties?

“That’s alright. Well, I just hope he knows how excited I am to see him again…” You confess, causing a surprised reaction from the Heelshire couple.

“Really? Well, that’s certainly wonderful! I’m sure he'll become more open to meeting you after he gets used to you being in the house…” Mrs. Heelshire states with a gentle smile, and you nod your head in agreement.

With that, you are then taken on a tour of the house. You’re shown areas you can and cannot wander to, and you mentally note each location that’s off limits. You’d never want to make the Heelshires uncomfortable, despite how curious you were. They show you to your room, which you immediately recognize as Brahms’ childhood room.

“Oh wow! This looks exactly how I remembered it!” You giggle.

“I’m glad you’re fond of it still, as Brahms insisted you take his room for your own… comfort…” Mr. Heelshire shares, but something tells you he’s not entirely being honest. However, you ignore the feeling bubbling up in your stomach.

“Well, feel free to unpack your things dear. As we mentioned before, we are planning on going on a trip within the next few days. So it will be just you and Brahms for a while…” Mrs. Heelshire reminds you, and you shiver slightly for some reason.

“Oh, yes… Well, I hope the two of you enjoy it!” You politely respond.

~~~

“Goodbye, dear! And remember, follow the rules and you’ll get no trouble from our dear Brahms!” The Heelshires bid you farewell and leave in their cab. Closing the door, you sigh in relief.

“Alright, follow the rules… I can do that… it’s the least I can do since they were so kind as to let me stay for a while…” You motivate yourself.

“Y/n…” A sudden familiar, childlike voice echoes through the house. You looked around to see who it came from, but you saw no one. It had to be Brahms, right? Who else could it have been, but where was he?

“B-Brahms?” You sheepishly call out. You hear no answer and suddenly feel quite stupid. Maybe you just heard the shifting of the house or imagined someone was calling your name?

“Alright, focus… first things first, making some lunch… hopefully he’ll come down to eat with me…?” You hope. You could’ve sworn you heard another childish giggle somewhere, but you try to shake the skittish feeling building up. You quickly make whatever you feel like for lunch, desperate to finish so that you can call Brahms down to eat.

“Um, Brahms? I… lunch is done… if you want some?” You yell throughout the house, but you hear no answer. Finally feeling defeat, you turn back to the kitchen and notice that one of the plates of food has disappeared.

“How did he get to it without me noticing?” You ask out loud. Every instinct within you tells you that something was wrong, but you tried your best to give the man some time to adjust to the new living situation.

“Y/n…?” In the middle of eating, you hear a now more adult version of the voice you heard earlier. You drop your fork in surprise and frantically look around for the source. You then see a tall and scruffy looking man standing at the end of the dining room. He was holding the plate that is now empty, and you figure that must be Brahms. He was very odd looking, in all honesty. He wore a porcelain mask that resembles the type of little dollies you used to keep as a kid.

“Oh, um… h-hello, Brahms…?” You try to be friendly towards him, despite the creepy feeling you got from him already. However, him not answering causes the suspicion to form again.

“Um… did you enjoy the meal I made for you?” You try to spark a conversation, but Brahms nonverbally nods in response.

“That’s good! I’m… glad…” You smile awkwardly at him, but his masked face remains expressionless. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, and Brahms notices the tense state you’re in. He begins to step closer to you, and sets his plate on the table. Sweating profusely, you wonder what he’s doing. He steps closer and closer to you until he’s directly in front of you. While you sit, he towers over you. You’d never admit it, but he’s very intimidating. However, you try your best to be polite.

“Is… everything alright, Brahms?” You ask innocently. He just stares at you, though, never saying a word. When you were about to get up and try to walk away, he grabs your arm and pulls you into him.

“B-Brahms…?!” You exclaim as he squeezes you in his broad arms. He’s rather warm, but trembling. Your heart relaxes when you realize he only wanted a hug.

“Y/n… nice to see you again…” He finally peeps out. Your cheeks heat up, but you lean into the embrace. The two of you just hold onto each other for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Good to see you, too! I was worried you were upset with me for coming back after such a long time…” You try to pull away and look him in the eyes, but his grip keeps you there.

“Mm, no… not upset… lonely…” He breathes into your ear, sending a chill down your back. He was… lonely? That makes you feel bad… really bad… how could you leave him like you did after the incident?! It wasn’t completely your fault, as you parents were the main reason you stayed away. They told you what a dangerous person Brahms was, and they forbid you from being influenced by him in any way.

Additionally, your parents never liked how fond the two of you seemed towards each other, despite the slight age difference you had. Brahms was only six years older, and to you it didn’t matter for terms of friendship. However, your parents saw the attraction Brahms had towards you right away. As children, it only developed into a little crush, but the older the two of you got the more obvious it became, to the adults at least. You seemed quite oblivious to his attempts to woo you, as you had just thought he was being friendly.

“I…I’m sorry, Brahms… I should’ve… I wish I’d have… I’m sorry…” Tear well in your eyes as you look down from his gaze. Your focus then shifts to the ever growing bulge in his pants that you hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s alright… happy you’re here now…” Brahms strokes your hair with his free hand, and he leans into you. You feel him stroke your neck with his nose, seemingly trying to get a reaction out of you. Completely frozen, you felt unsure of what to do. All of the sudden, your head’s ideas clicked and made you realize the years of yearning he’d been doing for you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t still have feelings for the boy you grew up with. You always admired how protective he was of you. You never admitted your affection towards him, though, as you thought he might react negatively. To you, the age difference acted as a barrier, but to him, it seemed he didn’t mind in the slightest. All he’s ever known was his love for you, despite the age gap. However, is this still the same boy as before? You probably barely knew him anymore. Then why were you getting so flustered over this simple interaction?

“Brahms?” You look back into his eyes with a curious glint. What was he planning with you?

“Hm?” He nonchalantly answers.

“Are you…?” You start, but then feel too embarrassed to finish.

“Yes,” He agrees without needing you to explain. You feel him jerk his hips into your stomach softly, desperate to get some friction between the two of you. As intoxicating as he was being, you still felt unsure of your stance with him.

“I’m not sure I want to… I mean, this is so soon… don’t you think?” You try to reason mainly with yourself to try and stop this from happening. With that, Brahms stops and pulls away from you with a pout.

“No?” He questions with sweet eyes.

“I… yes…?” You try to stand your ground with yourself again, but it’s no use. Brahms’ heartfelt pleading turns you to putty in his hands.

“Please?” He begs. With that, you finally agree, and he’s onto you. Groping all up and down your sides, front, and back, he feels every inch of your body as if he’s desperate to find something in you.

“Brahms… wait…?” You stop him again, realizing you hadn’t seen his actual face yet. You politely ask him to remove his mask, but he visibly slumps.

“Why…? You… don’t want to see me…” Brahms insecurely explains, but you shake your head.

“I do! Please…?” You whine as he continues to feel up your back. Brahms hesitates slightly, then agrees. With that, he slowly removes the porcelain from himself. This leaves his bare, burnt, and uncertain face into your view. You’re unsure of what to say at first, as your feelings are conflicted. However, you quickly decide to go with what your heart felt.

“You’re so handsome, Brahms…” You confess with a sheepish smile. He doesn’t respond, though, almost as if he’s debating what to say as well.

“Mm!” You moan through a sudden kiss he placed on your lips, making Brahms smile to himself in the kiss. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He quickly realized you were feeling the same towards him, and that gave him the confidence to continue. You rapidly grew a certain heat in your pelvic area, but the feeling was still unfamiliar to you. Only on the rare occasion did you allow yourself the pleasure, but you felt guilty for it every time.

“Slut… whore… useless daughter…” Your parents’ past words radiate in your head, and a panic washes over your body. Brahms senses your inner conflict again, and stops once more.

“Y/n…?” He gently asks to see if you’re alright. Tears well up in your eyes as the guilt of disappointing your parents consumes you.

“I’m sorry, I just… my mom and dad would be so upset… I just feel so… lost…” You admit, and Brahms wipes your cheeks with his calloused hands.

“Mm, screw them…” He chuckles darkly.

“But…” You try to argue, but he shushes you instead.

“They’ve never been good to you, Y/n…” Brahms shares, and it confuses you at first. They’ve always given you food, shelter, and anything else a child would need.

“But they… they mean well…” You try to reason it out, but he still disagrees.

“I’ve been watching, listening to how they treat you your whole life, Y/n… the way they scream at you, gaslight you, disappoint you… that’s not love… that’s abuse…” Brahms whispers with a broken heart for you. The pain of realization hits you, but you try to muffle your cries with your hands over your mouth.

“I’m so sorry… I know how hard it is… but I… I want to love you… really love you…” He kisses the top of your head sweetly. His words fill your heart with hope that you might not be miserable the rest of your life.

“Really…? I mean, I would love that… but I don’t want to force you into anything…” You self doubt yourself.

“Absolutely. I mean, hell… why do you think I was doing all of this?” Brahms wonders, and you suppose he’s right.

“Yeah, true… I’m sorry, I just feel bad… but thank you, I’d love to… y’know…?” You admit with a shy grin, which he immediately returns.

“Good,” He smirks and kisses you again. This time, the kiss was much more desperate for the sweet result. Brahms shows no mercy for you this time as he begins biting your lips. Your little gasps invoke a strong sense of pride within him. He was making you feel this way, and he alone would make you feel good.

“Hm,” His deep voice rumbles in his chest. Your eyes flutter open and shut, unsure of how to go about this situation. Squirming around awkwardly, you then feel Brahms grab your waist as he lifts you up and onto the table.

“Ah! Brahms...?!” You yelp in surprise.

“Take off your shirt, Y/n.” He demands, already sliding his hands underneath. You timidly follow his instructions, removing your shirt and bra from your body. Brahms looks down from your face and onto your breasts. He adored them, so he ran his hands over them as he gave each nipple a cheeky pinch.

“Oh, Brahms…” Your eyes close in bliss, but he snaps your attention back to his eyes.

“Look at me,” He suggests sternly.

“O-okay…” You do as he wishes and stare deep into his icy eyes. He’s tender and gentle, but he still makes you feel so small next to him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/n… I’ve always loved you…” Brahms brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, giving him a better view at your beauty.

“I have loved you for the longest time, too, Brahms… I just never knew how to tell you…” You try your best to express your feelings, but your past experience with doing so has never been easy for you. Each emotion you shared ended in an argument with your parents.

“I’m so glad… please…” Brahms pleads, leaning his forehead against yours. He didn’t have to finish for you to understand what he wanted.

“C’mere…” Your sudden burst of trust hits the two of you like a train. Brahms roughly attacks your neck with his lips and teeth, nipping at all your sensitive areas. Exploring each and every inch, he scopes out which areas you like best.

“Mm, Y/n…” He whimpers, rubbing his needy cock against your body. You had neglected it for far too long, and you wanted to give it some love too.

Lowering your hand down to his member, you stroke him through his pants. Pre-cum leaks from his tip and soaks through his underwear slightly. His moans fill your ears with sweet misery. The lack of being inside of you was killing him, but he wanted to take things slow for you.

“Ah, Y/n…! Please! I’ll be a good boy!” He begs you to allow him entrance, and you agree. Instantaneously, he pulls his clothes off and prepares his painfully hard cock to slide into you.

“Oh! You feel… so tight…!” He didn’t tell you, but this was his first time as well. The first feeling of being inside of someone, especially when that someone is you, was the best feeling he’s ever felt. He couldn’t help himself but pump in and out of you. He tried his best to go slow, but his selfish excitement got the better of him. However, you were far from upset by this.

“Ah! D-don’t… stop…!” You plead with him, and he obliges. Slapping his body into yours in a rhythmic motion causes you to quickly feel that coil in your stomach tighten around him.

“F-fuck…! You’re gonna make me…!” As quickly as it started, your love making ended. The two of you came together simultaneously, and everything felt perfect to you. However, Brahms felt a wave of guilt.

“I… I’m sorry… I wish I had lasted longer… and I shouldn’t have pressured you into this…” He goes on and on about all the things he could’ve done better, but you then stop him with a chaste peck on his lips.

“You were perfect. Thank you,” You lovingly look into his eyes. He searches for any sort of regret, but when he finds none he settles into your arms.

~~~

MY REQUESTS FOR DRAWING AND WRITING ARE STILL OPEN!! FEEL FREE TO SEND AN ASK/MESSAGE WITH YOUR IDEA!!

[holden-caulfield]

What If I Don't Want You To?

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Hii! I saw that you wanted people to leave kaz requests in your asks so here I am! Could you do a ff in wich the reader is a part of the crows and she's really sarcastic and flirty (similar to jesper) and she constantly flirts with kaz, (he acts like it doesn't affect him but he secretly loves it) and one day she does something especially bold that makes him blush madly and they finally admit their feelings for each other (also a lot of teasing of the crows to kaz pls) thank you so much!"

SUMMARY: reader loves to tease kaz but is scared once she realizes she might have gone too far.

WARNINGS: a mention of blood but nothing graphic

WORD COUNT: 1422

Kaz was the most closed-off person you knew. He never revealed anything, wether it was his feelings or the details of a new plan, and it enraged you. That's why you took it upon yourself to see just how far you could push him.

Flirting with Kaz Brekker wasn't an easy task, nor was it rewarding but it sure was fun. The crows loved to see which new technique you would have used and what effect it would have had on Kaz. It was usually a simple glare; a snarky comment when you were lucky. Bets were made on his reactions and you soon became a part of it.

"What are we thinking today, Y/n?" started Jesper while walking you down to the club, "I'm betting on a smirk."

"A smirk?!" you asked surprised, "I'm not even sure Kaz can smile..."

"He can, i've seen him once. I thought i was dreaming but when i pointed it out, he glared at me. I knew it was real when he whacked me with his cane." stated Jesper, shivering at the memory. You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. "Why do you do it, by the way?"

You took a moment to answer, suddenly serious again.

Truth was that all the innocent flirty comments you made −comments that started out as nothing more than a pastime− soon changed something in you. They were becoming truthful, and seeing Kaz answer with nothing but a dismissive comment was not easy. Trying to evoke feelings in him, inadvertently awoke feelings in you. Feelings for your boss that you shouldn't have had.

"Do i need a reason? It's fun, why do you talk to yourself in the mirror when you think no one's watching?" you retorted, raising eyebrows in genuine question.

"First of all, you shouldn't have seen that. Second of all, you should try it, you'd feel much better afterwards." he said simply and you tried restraining the smile that inevitably made its way on your face.

You entered the club which was, as always, in full swing. Several people were already ordering at the bar all kinds of alcohol while many others were betting all their possessions at the tables. Only the dregs knew that the real bets were being placed under the tables.

"Ten that he doesn't say anything." you heard someone whispering.

You were the newest of the dregs and of the crows, but you had already earned yourself a reputation.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out." another voice from somewhere in the club.

That one made you shiver. Would he really reach a point where he would fire you? You were a useful member, you wouldn't have made it into the crows if you weren't, but were you too much? Would he eventually get tired of you?

You walked over to your usual table with Jesper to meet Inej. Kaz wasn't there yet and you were really thinking of ending it there, no more flirting, no more jokes. This was your job, nothing else.

"What do you have for us, boss?" asked Jesper as he saw Kaz approaching.

He looked as he always does: black refined clothes clinging to him in an assortment of sharp edges, making him look even more direful to new merchants. He looked dashing the way a raging sea at night is; frightening, yet enticing. And that was wrong, you reminded yourself.

"It was a dead end." he said, sitting down.

He was in a gloomy mood, certainly for the news, and even though you knew you would have let down the whole club, you couldn't help but think of the comment you had heard moments ago.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out."

You loved working and simply being with the crows and the possibility of being kicked out was positively frightening.

But you couldn't simply stop. Everyone would have noticed something was off, he would have noticed. And then what? He would have known you liked him.

You had to do something big, something he couldn't simply ignore. You might have been out of the dregs for good, or maybe not.

Jesper kicked your shin under the table, making you focus back on the real word and motioning at all the dregs in the club, looking expectantly at you.

Kaz and Inej were now talking about something you weren't quite getting, their voices seemed distant as you tried to forget about everyone's eyes on you. You had made it a thousand times already, you could do it once more.

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Jesper and Kaz leaned back in his chair.

"I have some other leads we can try, but we'll have to split up." he started, the prospect of new kruge in his pockets making him incredibly more cheerful, "Jesper, Inej heard something about a particularly pricey painting in east stave, she'll bring you there and you'll learn more about it. And Y/n," he began and you perked up.

It was your moment to say something and get it over with.

"We'll go to west stave, i need your help with a lead there."

"Oh, you need me?" you said, your tone excessively teasing.

"That's what i said, but i can ask Inej." he replied drily.

You hesitated but you were not one to back down, especially not in front of one of Kaz's passive aggressive comments.

"But then you wouldn't get to stare at me longingly while i work, would you?" you said, pouting slightly.

You could have expected a retort, a glare, a not-so-nice hand gesture, but not him storming out of the club.

The entirety of the dregs was dumbfounded, Jesper and Inej, who never participated in the bets but still knew about them, were agape. You were mortified.

"Maybe," began Inej, "You should go talk to him."

"And meet my demise?" you asked.

"There must be a reason why he stormed out-"

"Yes, that he would have liked to kill me but blood stains are tough to remove." Jesper laughed but you were quite serious.

You got up either way, you had to explain yourself to him, you owed him at least that, and got out.

You found him not so far from the club's entrance, leaning on the railing over the river. You approached him unsurely.

"Kaz." he didn't turn around, so you got closer to the railing and noticed that his face, even in the night with the palest light of the street lamps, was scarlet. "I'm- i'm sorry, i will stop."

He remained silent.

"That is if you still want me in the crows, if not i'll leave tonight obviously." he turned to you, usually-perfect hair now slightly tousled, face still red and unreadable.

"Why wouldn't i?" he asked.

"I'm always teasing you and i figured you hated that. I will stop."

"What if i don't want you to?" your head perked up and he turned back towards the horizon, but a smirk crept up on his face. He didn't bother hiding it.

"So you can smile?" he rolled his eyes.

"I don't like it when people point out things i obviously do, you should have noticed back there."

Heat rushed to your face and the smile he had plastered onto his face turned into a complacent one.

"It was real? You stare at me longingly?" you asked bewildered.

He looked at you once before turning to the horizon once more, "Obviously not."

But you could sense he was lying.

"Told you he could smile, Y/n!" shouted Jesper from behind you.

You both turned around to find Jesper and Inej surrounded by the dregs and a couple of other clients too, all jostling to get a better look of the scene.

"It'll be hard for him not to, i'm afraid." joined in Inej and you bit your lip to refrain the laughter. Kaz's annoyed expression didn't help you maintaining a straight face.

"I'm not paying you to stand here doing nothing, get back inside." he ordered.

Everyone turned back inside but Jesper and Inej.

"Boss, if Y/n now gets double, just know i'm great at flirting too." stated Jesper as Kaz made his way back to the club, you in tow.

He ignored him and whacked him with his cane. Again. Jesper had now yet another lovely cane story to add to his collection.

"You'll never let him forget it, won't you?" you whispered. Jesper looked at you like a child who had just entered candy land.

"Never."

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[familyfriendlyweed]

late night snaps (quackity x reader)

a/n : before we get into the story, i wanted to thank you all for such support on my first post - i only posted it yesterday, and got a hell lot of likes and reblogs and even gained 23 followers, which is insane for me (or maybe i just don’t know how tumblr works, haha)! anyhow, i’m really happy you guys enjoyed it <3 

 it was 02:37 and you were editing your newest video. you had no idea it would take so long, though! even if you were used to staying up very late, you knew you have to put away your laptop and go get some sleep. 

 saving the video as a draft and shutting your computer off, you started to blindly search for your phone, since your eyes didn’t get used to the darkness yet. finally finding it, you turned it on to set an alarm for the next morning when you suddenly saw a snapchat notification from ten minutes ago. it was from Alex. you curiously unlocked your phone and tapped the little notification to be led straight to snapchat.

idiota : hello mamacita

 your face instantly lit up in a childish smile. you started to type your response eagerly like it wasn’t 2 am and you didn’t have online classes tomorrow. 

 you : why hello there, el señor

 you saw Alex’s silly bitmoji pop up as he started to type.  

 idiota : what is my chica bella doing up so late?

 you giggled, getting comfortable in your bed - this meant a long chatting session on its way.

 you : YOUR chica bella? when did that happen?

 idiota : ANSWER THE QUESTION!!!! >:((((

 you : fine you big baby, i was finishing editing a new video

 idiota : hmm i see, i see

 you : what about you though? u should get some sleep!!! :(((

 Alex’s bitmoji started typing, then stopped for some reason. you lifted your eyebrow at that. then he continued, but it took a while for him to finish.

 idiota : why, i just couldn’t fall asleep when you were on my mind all the time, mi amor

 your cheeks grew red in an instant. you knew you could handle jokes pretty well, but this was quite too much. Alex never got so far as to actually flirt with you.

 you : eh??? what drugs are u on

 idiota : the only drug for me is you mamacita

 you snorted. you had no idea if he was being serious or not, even if the second option was more likely.

 you : literally go to sleep wtf

 idiota : i’d sleep better if you were by my side ;)

 this was enough for you - you felt as if you got one more message like this from him, you’d die from the hotness in your cheeks. setting your phone down, you made your way to the bathroom before bed.

 you came back five minutes later, only to see your phone full of notifications from Alex. your heart was thumping really hard, you weren’t used to this, but you opened snapchat anyway.

 idiota : mamacita?

 idiota : ....

 idiota : mamacita, don’t joke w me like that

 idiota : did you really just leave me on read wtf

 idiota : i’m sad come back :(((

 and at last, there was a snap from him. you were quite scared at this point. with a shaking hand, you opened it.

 you laughed so hard that you seriously thought you’ll have a seizure. still laughing, you snapped a selfie with a cute filter on (you really thought you looked horrible at the moment), captioned it with “your chica bella had to take a piss u simp” and sent it to Alex.

 he opened the snap almost imediatelly and started typing afterwards :

 idiota : mamacita!!!! you look hermosa!!!!

 you : that’s because i have a filter on lmaoo

 idiota : mamacita don’t let yourself down, you are so beautiful :((

 you started to text a sarcastic reply, but stopped. for some reason, Alex seemed like he was being truthful. he wasn’t joking around when he called you beautiful, that was too affectionate.

 you : ...really?

 idiota : si, si! <3

 you tugged at your lip in a thinking manner. true, you had feelings for Alex, but you never thought he had something similar to you. or maybe... maybe he was just supporting you as a friend. figuring that was probably it, you texted :

 you : thank you quacker B]] ur also v handsome

 idiota : mamacita likes me!!!!!😍😍😍

 you smiled sadly. Alex was definitely playing around. you got lost in thought for a few moments, thinking about how would he act if he was actually in love with someone. would he, perhaps, be more mature? that would be very weird to look at.

 finally coming back to planet Earth, you looked at your phone only to see that Alex has written a shit ton of messages again :

 idiota : i want to see you, mamacita

 idiota : it’s fine if u don’t want to, you’re probably going to sleep anyway...

 idiota : but maybe let’s meet tomorrow?

 idiota : mamacita?

 idiota : ....

 idiota : i’m coming over <3

 your heart gave a leap of embarassment and surprise. why would he even say that?

 you : wait what

 you : wdym “i’m coming over”

 you : no tf ur not

 you : go to sleep

 idiota : doesn’t mamacita want to see muah???

 you : no, that would be awesome, but you should go to sleep, really :(

 idiota : y/n, i already told you, i can’t sleep when you’re on my mind

 you froze in spot, staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. did he just call you by your name? you knew he only says it in serious situations. deciding to change your tactic, you started texting seriously :

 you : are you like... for real now?

 you : because i know you call me by my name in serious situations, but maybe it’s only a prank, so just answer me truthfully, okay?

 Alex started typing, it took even longer that before, but at last you saw his message, this time without caps, spammed question/exclamation marks, nothing silly at all :

 idiota : i am serious, y/n. believe me, this is not a prank. i just really wanna see you. 

 your heart skipped a beat or two, your face renewed its redness. you felt as if you were dreaming.

 you : okay... i’m really glad. come over, please

 idiota : thank you so much

 you started pondering in your head - how did this happen? how did this silly conversation turn out like this? 

 but what if Alex texted you because he wanted to come over in the first place? after all, he knew how shitty your sleep schedule was. that would be awesome, you thought, a small smile dancing on your lips.

 you checked the snap map only to see Alex about 100 meters from you. wait... what? 100 METERS??? was Alex near your place the moment he texted you for the first time?

 you jumped up, starting to tidy up your messy room up, only to remember you look like poop at the moment - hair messy, face tired, clothes scrunched. 

 exhaling heavily, you tried to change your appearance quickly - you ran into the bathroom, brushing your hair panickily. then you wrenched the makeup bag open and started to rummage through it trying to find some mascara or something...

 ding ding! 

 you froze, your eyes widened. he was already here, what the hell?!

 you quickly put on some mascara, ran into the hallway while brushing your face with your hands from stress (completely forgetting you have mascara on, somehow) and unlocked the door.

 Alex’s figure was dark, since the lightbulb in the corridor wasn’t working, and it almost gave you a fright. but as soon as he engulfed you in a warm hug, the tension in the pit of your stomach vanished. you hugged him back almost unsurely, but smiling.

 “hello, mamacita”

 you giggled. for some reason, you got the strongest urge to cry. probably from happiness, but it still was confusing to you. nevertheless, tears started running down your cheeks, mixing with mascara, probably making you look like you were going to a halloween dress up party. 

 “hey, why are you crying?” Alex asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

 “i look horrible.” you laughed, wiping your tears away.

 “nooo, why won’t you listen to me? i already told you you’re beautiful.” he said with a cute pout. 

 “alright, alright, i’m very beautiful, let me down now.” you said, noticing that he was still holding you in his arms tightly. 

 “whatever the chica bella says.”

 he put you down.

 “aren’t you going to turn on some light? i feel like i’ve gone blind!” Alex exclaimed jokingly and you giggled.

 “i’m like a bat, i hate much light, sorry. buuuut i could turn on this little lamp.” you said, making your way to your desk and turning on a cute little lamp the shade of warm pink.

 “perfect.” Alex said, eyeing you in light now. you thought he’ll make a comment about your awful mascara-stained face, but he said nothing, just smiling and looking at you in awe, like you were some princess in a ball dress instead of a tired college student in messy shorts, an oversized t-shirt and two different socks, because you couldn’t find a pair of the same ones.

 “perfect.” he repeated, shrugging with a smile on his face, like seeing you was everything he needed.

 you laughed and hugged him, muttering a “thanks for coming”. Alex didn’t hesitate and also hugged you, holding you as close as possible, as if he let go of you, he’d drown and would never come back to be by your side again. 

 little did you know, he felt the exact same way.

[closhelby]

HER. - Thomas Shelby

Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut

Word Count: 2472

AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.

::::::

She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed. 

However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London. 

They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison. 

“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”. 

Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her. 

They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house. 

::::

The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat. 

“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.

Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind. 

They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him. 

“Good night?”

“Always.” Ada grumbled.

Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back? 

Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly. 

Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”

John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.

“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.    

“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.

The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.

Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.

Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away

“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.

“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”

“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”

Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”

At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”

She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.

The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.

The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.

“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.

“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”

Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today’s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.

...

The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.

Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.

“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside. 

“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”

He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”

He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen.  Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head. 

Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers. 

He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.

Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded. 

::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.  

Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity. 

“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand. 

“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked. 

“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied. 

“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her. 

“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both. 

“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her. 

“Y/n” Tommy warned. 

“Who are you?” Grace questioned. 

“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”

Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.” 

“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added. 

At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”

“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.

“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.

“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”

Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.

“I love you Tom,”

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

**

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

**

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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[pigeonp0st]

Hi! Since your taking some request I was wondering if you could do one about Wonder woman x reader where the reader is insecure about her body because she is literally dating a goddess and Diana notice her being distant and always avoiding to look in a mirror. Can it be like super fluffy and all. Thx I am currently binge reading each of your imagines 🥰love you and thx again

Diana Prince x Reader #1

Words: 1918

Warnings:

Self-loathing, Self-harm (not intentionally), body dysphoria , blood. Please don’t read if any of these things will make you upset or triggered!

Notes:

You said super fluffy and my mind didn’t register it holy fuck. Uh...oops? This is really dark and i’m sorry if it’s too far from what you were hoping for. I enjoyed writing it though, so thank you for requesting. (Sorry for spelling mistakes.)

————

You aren’t jealous of her. You aren’t.

It’s just...well...Diana’s a goddess. Literally. Even people who don’t know she’s Wonder Woman would call her that without question, just based on her looks.

And you’re...you're you. You’re you so you get asked often, by dense people not intending to be rude, how you managed to get with her.

You’re you so whenever you’re in a room with her you’re practically ignored. You're you so people’s eyes always widen when you say Diana’s your girlfriend, because HOW.

How, you can tell they’re wondering. Someone like Diana deserves to be with some rich model, not you.

God...you hate this. You hate feeling this way, and you hate that it involves Diana so largely. It’s not her fault the world is the way it is, it’s not her fault you’re the way you are, but it’s hard. It’s hard looking at her and not seeing all of your imperfections mirrored on her loving face.

It’s hard to look at her, and not compare what she looks like with what you look like. It's hard looking at her and not remembering all of the ways you’re undeserving...all of the ways you're not enough.

It’s not as hard as looking in the mirror though. You can stand the sadness when you look at her because she smiles so brightly sometimes, and she’s just so loving that it’s hard to think about negative things when she starts laughing.

It’s hard believing she can’t possibly love you when she’s standing in front of you doing exactly that.

The seconds she’s gone though...the second she’s gone it comes back in full force, and lately you’ve been so overwhelmed thinking about dealing with the ‘after Diana leaves’ that you’ve been avoiding being with Diana as much as you can.

You hate it, and each time you reject her with another excuse you hate yourself just that little bit more too.

—-

You can’t avoid her ALL of the time though, and it’s not like you want to.

Diana comes to your house one day, more unsure of herself than she usually is, and looks around the room like she’s unfamiliar with it.

It hasn’t been that long since she’s been here, you don’t know why she looks so curious about—

“All of your mirrors are gone,” Diana notes, freezing you in your tracks. Then, she glances down to your wrapped hands, eyes wide. “You’re hurt,” she whispers, completely concerned now. She reaches for you but you pull away before she can touch you.

“I’m fine.” You say it through gritted teeth and with adverting eyes, and it’s so clear that you’re not.

It’s so clear that you’re not, but Diana nods her head like she believes you and wraps her arms around herself like the room just got ten times colder.

Everything feels ten times heavier suddenly, too heavy when you’ve been so tired for what feels like ages. Fuck. You just want your girlfriend, you just want your goddess. Why do you have to worry about what the rest of the world thinks?

“Diana.”

She looks up immediately, confusion lined in every inch of her. She’s clearly trying to put the puzzle piece together but she’s missing too many pieces to understand.

You wonder if she’d even be able to understand if she had all of the pieces—if she could see what was happening to you. Could Diana understand something she’s probably never heard about in her island of beautiful women? Something she’s probably never had to deal with?

You don’t say any of that though. You don’t say the words that feel like they’re ripping your insides apart. Instead, you say, sheepish; “wanna watch a movie?” Like nothing is wrong in the world, because maybe if you act like it enough it will become true.

Maybe if you act like it enough you’ll forget last night, the night where you went around shattering every mirror you owned. Some of them with the impact of the floor, and others with your fist.

Maybe if you act like picking which movie to watch is your biggest concern in life, you’ll forget about the medical bills sitting on the counter because some of the glass dug in so deep all you could see was red on your hands, and all you could feel was helpless.

Maybe—

“Sure,” Diana agrees, offering you a comforting smile.

Maybe Diana deserves more than a person that deludes themself to stay tethered

——

You’re an idiot.

Your wallpaper switched from a picture of you and Diana to a picture of just Diana a month ago, but you stupidly forgot that Diana hasn’t changed hers also.

So naturally, since the world hates you lately, Diana’s phone lights up with a call—she completely ignores it while being completely entranced in the movie—and you glance at it to see if it’s someone important, someone Diana would want to answer to.

You pay zero attention to the person who called Diana after you see the picture.

“Diana.”

You don’t register it’s your voice speaking until Diana turns to you. She couldn’t register the sound of her phone ringing but she registers the sound of your voice and you love her, you love her, you—

“Change your background.”

Diana blinks, once, twice, then; “why? I like it.”

“Diana,” you repeat, heart beating a million miles a minute, and voice several pitches higher. “Change your background.”

“Why?” Diana asks again, but it’s softer this time, softer and on the verge of seeing the puzzle even without all of the pieces.

“Because people will—” you pause, your voice hitching, “please...just change your background, please Diana, please, for fucks sakes, please just—”

“Okay,” Diana whispers hurriedly, alarmed by your desperation and quickening breaths, and pulling you into her arms. “Okay.”

But you’re not done. “Not of me, Diana,” you continue, frantically. “Don’t change it to another one of me, okay? Change it to—to something else.”

Finally—finally, Diana tenses under you, hit with a realization that’s larger than her, and larger than her beauty, and something that isn’t really actually about her, something that’s always been about you, that she happens to involuntarily bring out more because of her affect on other people.

She’s hit with the realization on a Monday night, with you still frantic and broken in her arms from just one image. She’s hit with the realization in a home with no mirrors. She’s hit with the realization with a small, quiet mumble of your hardly comprehensible words; “Diana, they’ll think you’re crazy. I don’t want you to believe your crazy for—”

“Why did you get rid of your mirrors?”

It’s your turn to tense and become silent. You even try pulling away but Diana keeps her arms around you to keep you with her (to keep you tethered, because Diana works better than any delusion). “Y/N, why did you get rid of your mirrors?” She asks again, “why are your hands wrapped? Why can we never go out together anymore? Why is your wallpaper just a picture of me and not you, why—”

“I think you should leave.”

“Why aren’t you talking to me!”

Silence. Diana let’s out a stuttering breath and then she’s pulling you closer to her, closer, closer, and whispering over, and over again, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I'm not angry at you, you’re okay.”

And you're shaking in her arms, clutching her coat, wishing for happiness without delusions.

Then...you’re being honest, telling Diana everything between shaky breaths, and sobs.

You’re giving her the puzzle pieces, not expecting her to understand what she’s looking at, but wanting her to care about it anyways, to find it important, and something worth looking at.

Diana lets you speak even though she’s clearly against half of the things you’re saying about yourself because she wants to understand the puzzle you built while she wasn’t looking.

——

When you’re done, and all that is left is dried tears on more than one pair of cheeks, Diana finally speaks. First though, she asks that you don’t interrupt her. You agree.

“Okay,” Diana sighs, “you won’t believe me—you can’t—but I find you to be the most beautiful person in this world, and any other, in these times, and any other.”

Here, Diana is wrong. You don’t believe this to be anywhere near true about yourself, but when you meet Diana’s eyes you do believe that this is something she believes without doubt.

This is something she believes as simply as the sky being blue.

“And that’s because of what you look like on the outside, but it’s also because of who you are regardless,” she smiles at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes full of nothing but love and concern, and then pain.

“Believe it or not,” Diana starts, voice soft, “I look at you, and everything you are, and sometimes i’m the one who feels undeserving. You feel...brighter than me sometimes. More...more everything, and I—sometimes I feel like you offer more than I give,”

Diana saying that is humorous because all she has ever done is offer, she offers even now after you’ve shown her cracks she wasn’t supposed to see...you’ve come to realize though that if someone feels something to be true... then it’s true to them, and it will hurt them just the same.

“I can not change the way you see yourself, just as you cannot change the way I see you, but I…” Diana pauses, staring searchingly into your eyes until you have to look away, “I want to help you. I will do whatever I can to make you believe me, i’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it and…” another pause, this one longer and sadder…

“I want you to look at me love you, and then when I'm gone I don’t want to be a reminder of your unworthiness, but a reminder of the worth you possess, to me—and so many others.”

“Diana…”

“It’s okay,” she assures, “for now, if you can’t believe you're physically beautiful, I'll show you all of the larger, more meaningful things about yourself until all you can see when you look in the mirror is someone who brings light into people's lives, someone who is loved. Someone who is great.”

And you're crying again now, but this time Diana is the one talking. She is reassuring you, and she’s showing you puzzle pieces, except this puzzle is another one, this puzzle isn’t about the way you see yourself, it’s about the way she sees you, it’s about the way people who matter to you see you, and even the ones that don’t.

This puzzle is larger than the one you showed her, and from the pieces you allow yourself to see, the pieces you’re able to accept right now, it’s a more beautiful one.

For the first time in a long time, you can imagine believing all of the things she tells you. You can imagine it, and when you do you’re sobbing even harder, because yes. Yes, that is what you want.

Diana will be there by your side on the journey to love, like she was there to the last ‘love journey’...but this one isn’t about loving her, it’s about loving you exactly as you are.

Who better to get you to love yourself than the person who loves you most?

[niffala]

Letters (Pt. 2)

Warnings: heartbreak, angst, arguments

A/N: Reader insert version found here. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated. 

Chapter 1 Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Chapter 2

Steve found he couldn’t stay away from the Sunrise. At first he had breakfast there every Friday, then more frequently as the weeks went by. He was drawn to the cafe, but not by the food. The conversations with Anne started tense and awkward, but got friendlier with each visit. 

It was almost like it was before everything happened. Although, the absence of his best friend was heavily felt each time he sat down. Back then, Bucky would sometimes have to split a meal with him. Anne would always make sure TJ added extra to the plate so there was enough food. They all used to take care of each other. He missed that.

The clock showed it was ten after six when he arrived. Sunrise had just opened, so no one else was there besides TJ, Anne and an elderly man reading the paper. Steve was used to being up and about early, he didn’t sleep much anymore. Partly from still being on a military schedule, but also from the nightmares that never ended, even after he opened his eyes. Lives taken, lives lost, so much blood and destruction. It was always right there in his peripheral vision. 

He sat down by where Anne was leaning over the counter with her own paper. Only instead of news, she was scanning apartment ads. A determined look on her face, he watched her circle one. “Looking to move?”

Anne frowned, “I have to. Can’t afford to keep our-uh-my apartment anymore.” She stumbled over her words, hoping he didn’t notice. It was supposed to be their place, once upon a time. The landlord only agreed to the rental because Steve was moving in once they got married. She held onto her home as long as she could, but money was tight. She lost her second job when the war ended and the boys came back to the states. Savings only got her so far, it was time to find a cheaper place.

“I'm sorry to hear that.” Steve wondered where she resided now, maybe there was something he could do to help. He hated the thought of her living alone. “So no fiancé, no roommate, no one to help with the bills?”

Was he trying to rub salt in the wound? “No, I live alone and I like it that way.” She stood up and crossed her arms, “Besides, no one wants to share space with a spinster fruitlessly waiting for her man to return from war. I’m better off with it being just me.” 

Steve hated hearing her so defeated. “That sounds lonely.” He would know. Even though he was married to Peggy, most days and nights he was by himself. Her job was important, he understood, but he missed having someone to share his time with. “I hope you are able to find a place that suits you.”

Anne’s mouth twitched, “I'm still not used to hearing you talk like that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You don't sound like you. Like your accent was scrubbed away.” She shrugged, “The hair, the clothes, your stiff posture. You could be anybody, a stranger.”

His brows knitted, unsure if she was trying to start with him. “Well that is what we are now, isn’t it?”

She’s not sure why that touched a nerve. “The only stranger here is you. I’m who I’ve always been. I'm not the one that lost who I am.” 

Steve didn’t want to argue, “I lost a lot of things.” The accusation was on target to boot, and that vexed him. “People change. The moment you think you know someone, they prove you wrong.” He fixed her with a hard stare that didn’t hold. He truly didn’t want to fight with her.

Anne visibly relaxed, she wasn't even mad, not really. It wasn't like Steve to back out of a fight, though, not even with her. She quickly got him a coffee as a peace offering. “So supersoldier; stronger, better eyesight…” She remembered when he excitedly told her he could see all the colors now, and that everything was clear, no more fuzzy lights. She was so happy for him. “I have to ask, how's your tastebuds?”

He laughed, “Top notch.”

“Great, consider yourself our new taste tester. TJ needs help deciding which new dish will be next week's special.” Anne walked to the back to let her boss know. 

An hour later, Steve was stuffed. He’d eaten four generously portioned meals in his quest to pick the best one. It was a hard choice, he enjoyed all of them. He wasn’t obligated to finish his plates, but didn’t want the food to go to waste. 

Her curiosity peaked as she watched him savor each taste. Telling her his sense of smell and hearing was just as heightened, which wasn’t always a good thing for him. There were things a person shouldn’t know. Anne thought about how he used to be hard of hearing, although he was too proud to admit it back then. She reached out and put her hand over his, “What about touch?” 

Steve practically jumped out of his seat, heart in his throat. “I’m sorry. I have a… I have to go.” He apologized again and ran out, unsure why he reacted that way. The warmth of her hand lingered the entire trip home. He tried shaking it off, it had to be in his head. Peggy had been away for too long. He attempted to call her, but her secretary informed him she wasn’t available. She rarely was. Leaving a short message, Steve sat down and waited. Unsure what to do with himself. 

---------------

Another phone call and he had Anne’s address. She never left their apartment. Well, he supposed it was only ever hers, he never got the chance to move in. What would possess her to stay there for so long. She had worked two jobs to afford to do so. It didn’t make sense. 

Before he could contemplate his decision, he found himself parked in front of the building. Steve got out and walked inside. His foot had just touched the first creaky step when a head poked out the nearest door. 

The man’s face swiftly changed from suspicion to shock. “Ca-ca-Captain America. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Steve pointed up the stairs, “Just visiting a friend.”

“May I ask which resident?” The landlord closed his own door and shuffled over to Steve.

“Anne Williams.”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid she isn’t home. Most likely working another double. Should arrive in another hour or so.”

“Shoot,” Steve dragged his hand over his mouth, “Would it be possible for me to wait here?”

“For you, Sir, I’ll let you wait up in her apartment.” The landlord chuckled as he climbed the steps, “If you can’t trust Captain America, who can you trust?” He led Steve to the third floor, down a dimly lit hallway, and unlocked Anne’s door. Sighing, the landlord swung it open, “She was a good tenant, I’ll miss her.” He tilted his head momentarily, “On the bright side I can charge more for this place with her improvements. Still a shame though.” He reached out to shake Steve’s hand, “It was an honor to meet you, Captain”

Steve shook the man’s hand, “Likewise and thank you.” He watched the landlord retreat down the hall before entering and closing the door. He barely recognized the place. The two bedroom apartment was small, simple and no longer had the odor it once did. The window by the fire escape was fixed, as was the hole in the floor and the kitchen seemed to be in working order. It looked comfortable, lived in. Not resembling the husk of a dwelling it used to be.

He walked around admiring her touches. Everything screamed Anne, from the wallpaper to the mismatched crockery. The curtains were handmade, as were the blanket and pillows on the bed. The small dining table had a leg replaced and although no piece of furniture was part of a set, it all seemed like it belonged here.

He could have been happy here, it could have been home. Most days he and Anne didn't have two nickels to rub together, but they had each other. That used to be enough for her. Steve could understand why someone with money turned her head while he was away. He wished she would have waited for him. He would have given her anything she wished for. 

Still, he didn't want her to lose it. Running down to the landlord, he paid for three months rent in advance. Then returned to wait in Anne’s apartment. It was no more than twenty minutes when he heard someone rushing up the stairway. He knew it was her before the door slammed open. 

Anne’s eyes blazed as she snarled at him, “What the HELL do you think you are doing?”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to see you. Your landlord let me in. I can come back if this is a bad time.” Steve stood up, slowly approaching, hoping to calm her.

Her hand dipped into her coat pocket, pulling out a handful of cash she shoved it into Steve’s chest. “I made my landlord give it back. What gives you the right to do such a thing?”

“I was trying to help. I’m sorry if I overstepped…”

“Oh you overstepped plenty. First you pop back in my life like nothing has changed, then you show up here and invite yourself into MY home. To top it off, you have the audacity to make me look like some helpless woman that can’t pay her own way.” Her fists were shaking, barely containing the rage she felt. “Well I’ve got news for you, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing just fine on my own. I don't need a man to look after me and I certainly don’t need you.”  

Steve swallowed, he messed up. “I meant no harm, I was trying to get you a little ahead so you could keep your apartment. I never intended to make you look bad or incapable in any way.” He licked his lips, “Listen, if you won’t take the money, maybe I can do something else. I could put in a good word for you to help you get a better job. If you need to go to school, I’ll pay for it. Whatever you need I can get you.” He grasped her hands, pleading, “Let me help you.”

Anne shook her head. No, she would not accept any of it. “I don't want anything from you, Steve. I just wanted you.” She yanked her hands away. It wasn’t fair, why was he here now? It’s too late, he’s married and she’s struggling to survive. He can’t do this to her. Anne’s voice began to crack, “I loved you, I wanted to marry you. It was supposed to be us.” 

Then why did you leave me, Steve wanted to scream. His mouth hung open, not understanding her outburst. So many questions on the tip of his tongue he couldn’t form a sentence. 

His silence was too much for her to take. “Get out!”

Steve’s eyes widened in alarm, “What?”

She shoved him out the door, knowing he could stop her if he wanted. “Just get the hell out. Out! Out!” As soon as his feet passed the barrier, she shut the door in his face.

Steve stood there for what felt like ages. Hoping Anne would reconsider and let him back in. He felt helpless, how could he get through to her that he wanted to take care of her, not because she couldn’t, but because he was her friend. He still had feelings for her. More than he wanted to admit, more than he was at liberty to say out loud.

Chapter 3

[sukiglycerin]

it takes two || katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x reader (gender neutral!)

* genre: fluff, teeny bit of angst

* words: 1,647

* warnings: brief fighting scene (implied), swearing (duh), a lil bit of insecure katsuki but ofc comfort after, reader is mentioned to be in the hero business field, KATSUKI WEARS SHOES IN THE HOUSE !!! can you believe the audacity-

* original request:  Hello dear :)) Can I request a Bakugou x reader fic where he gets hit by a clone quirk and the clone is like the complete opposite of him, personality-wise, and Bakugou frequently loses his temper because the clone keeps hitting on his s/o I am sorry for bothering you :(

* a/n: you? bother me? never. actually, i’m sorry this took so long to complete! i’m hoping i can restart a consistent posting schedule soon. happy early birthday bakugou! this is my gift :) i hope you all enjoy~ i love @toishi for proofreading this T^T

it’s a lazy day for you. all you’ve been doing is sleeping, waking up occasionally to eat, and indulging in six different rhythm games despite your lack of rhythm, it’s a good day, snuggled up under the mountains of fuzzy blankets and squished in between soft pillows on your bed, your favorite song quietly playing from your phone on your nightstand. natural light fills your otherwise unlit room, curtains pushed aside to let the sun shine in her full glory. time is idle in this sanctuary of yours for only today; whether a minute or an hour has passed is something out of your concern. 

there’s nothing different when bakugou comes home, the jingle of keys and click of the door telling you that it’s him. he’s oddly quiet, though, and for a second you’re almost wondering why he hasn’t yelled “i’m home, dumbass!” before said blond peeks his head into the room. 

“hey, love,” he flashes a rare smile. it’s kind, like the soft light of the sun you've become so acquainted with. “i’m home.”

“hey?” you sit up, propping the pillows behind you so you can comfortably lean against the headboard of your bed. “you feeling alright?”

you expect a gruff reply of “the fuck are you talking about?” and a scowl, but get the opposite. a pleasant expression graces katsuki's face, which makes him look more handsome than usual. his hair almost seems tame this way. he’s also uncharacteristically clean; his costume is usually dirt-treaded and at least a little battered whenever he returns from hero patrol. now, though? his outfit is pristine, as if pulled out from a laundromat and ironed professionally. there’s a ghost of a frown on your lips.

"i'm lovely, now that i can see you." the line is spoken like a sappy confession from the male lead of a k-drama; you'd laugh if it wasn't for your utter confusion about katsuki's sudden change in demeanor. his facial expression is twisted in such a gallant way that it arouses suspicion in you.

you’re opening your mouth to reply when there’s a startling crashing at the front door. katsuki’s face falls into downhearted dread, as if expecting the intrusion. his reaction surprises you more than the intrusion itself. the door slams shut in the distance, rattling the house. the sound of boots clomping against the hardwood floor frightens you as you thrust your warm sheets aside (alas, they could wait) and reach for your bat under the bed. katsuki only stares at you, transfixed, and you feel the slightest urge to clobber him with the weapon. why isn’t he ready to fight? you’re up and approaching the doorway of your bedroom when you stop in your tracks.

“hey, fucker!” a loud, abrasive voice yells from down the hallway. “i found ya!”

you recognize that timbre in an instant, then turn to look at katsuki, still standing at your bedside, with a questioning gaze. he’s wearing an expression you never thought you’d see your husband have - his eyes are wide, mouth agape like a deer in headlights.

despite this vote of inconfidence from him, you pad forward slowly, bat gripped tightly and slung over your shoulder. you plunge forward, passing the doorway and glancing left. a shadowy figure stands five feet from you, its stature menacing. you swing blindly, but you bat is only met with more air. the figure is a little bit further now - damnit, it had good reflexes.

“you could still use some work on that swing,” it lowly chuckles and confuses you. you squint, trying to make out who in the world this guy thinks he is to comment on your swing. you gasp, faltering your grip on the bat. 

“k-katsuki? what?”

“got hit with a stupid clone quirk on patrol,” this katsuki grumbles bitterly, stepping towards you. he’s dressed in his full hero costume, green grenadier bracers a tight fit in the narrow hallway. “i apprehended the guy but my clone won’t stop following me around. it’s stupidly fast, too, whenever i try to catch it.”

“....and,” you start, “how do i know that you’re not the clone?” you pretend to inspect him close, eyes slowly trailing from the tips of his spiky, golden hair to his black combat boots. (oh, man, you were going to yell at him about wearing shoes in the house later.)

“don’t start this inception bullshit with me now,” he groans. 

“what’s katsuki bakugou’s favorite food?” you question, though you have no doubt that this katsuki is the real one. 

“anything spicy,” he bemoans. “now, let me-”

“that was an easy one.” you shake your head. “what was the first idea katsuki bakugou had for a hero name idea instead of lord explosion murder?”

if you were in better light, you’re sure you would’ve seen his cheeks flush pink. 

“mighty boom,” he mumbles. 

“sorry, what was that?” you tease.

“mighty boom!” he half-shouts, flustered.

“oh, okay, so you’re the real katsuki,” you say. “how do we defeat the clone?’

“according to the quirk user, it should disappear after two or three hours. but it can’t really do much harm, as long as it’s not in the sight of the user himself,” he says. “now let me at ‘im. he’s making a fool of myself.” 

he attempts to shove himself forward, but you stop him before he can see through the door frame. you glance at the clone, who’s looking at you with round, ruby eyes. he looks like a puppy with that innocent expression, and for a split second, you think that you actually might miss the calm, charming air of this katsuki. turning back to the real katsuki, who pretends not to notice the shift in your eyes, you exhale. 

“have at it, but take it outside first, please. i can’t have you tracking in more dirt.” you look to the dirt-ridden footprints behind him on the wooden flooring, sighing.

but in a flash he’s past you - wow, you really weren’t blocking him at all before, were you? - outfit a blur of black, green, and orange as he seizes the clone, slings it over his shoulder like it's made of air, and vanishes past you and out the door. he seldom leaves a trace of dirt, this time, smooth maneuvering himself outside while the clone bids you one last pleading farewell.

you hear blasting, yelling, and yelps, the lattermost presumably the clone’s, barely muffled from your position inside. your first thought wonders what the neighbors will think. you glance one last time at the tracks of katsuki’s boots then turn back to your room. he’d have to mop up that mess later. 

ten minutes and an eternity later, katsuki returns inside. by the pause at the front door, you figure one of two things: katsuki’s either taking the time to take off his shoes and put them away properly or staring at the filth he left on the floor. you’re hoping it’s the former. his footsteps are light as he goes to fetch a mop and clean the mess.

finished, he shuffles into your shared room and briefly looks at your comfortable position on the bed.

“what?” you whine. “hero business is hard. i needed a day off.”

this earns a laugh from the man, who’s in the process of removing his gauntlets and stowing them away. he shrugs off the rest of his costume, opting for much more comfortable attire and dropping his mask on a dresser. 

“how was your day?” you ask when he snuggles next to you on the bed. he’s sweaty and smells deeply of caramel, but you’ll nag him to shower later. the wear shows in his eyes and movement, sluggish after a long day of work. 

“good,” he mumbles, nuzzling into your warmth. “except for that clone bastard.”

you hum, joking, “he was charming, though.”

when he looks up at you with a vulnerable look in his eyes, you regret it.

“did you… really like him that much?” his voice is hoarse, scarcely a whisper. he averts his eyes, fiddling with the hem of your shirt sleeve.

“of course not,” you reply tenderly, bringing your hand to caress his cheek. he still can’t look you in the eyes.

“you know you’ll always be number one in my heart, right? even if you’re not the number one hero, you’re the constant in my heart.” you touch your chest, right over your heart. 

“y-you sure?” his words crackle like dying embers, inconsistent and unstable, flakes of lit ash that weakly dissipate into the atmosphere. a waning fire is still warm, though; with a bit of oxygen it can be rejuvenated, relit, and burn bright once again. 

“am i one to be wrong?” you ask him, and he faintly shakes his head. “i fell in love with you not for your looks, katsuki… i don’t want a disney prince. i want you, not some fairytale guy.”

“i yell, and i’m brash-”

you cut him off, chuckling, “and that’s what i love about you. you don’t-” you make a vague gesture with your hands, then drop them, unsure how to articulate your thoughts. “you don’t care what people think. you’re unapologetically… you.”

“you sure?” katsuki tries again. “that- that guy, that thing- you sure you don’t prefer a guy that’ll buy you roses with a note on the tag that says ‘you are the most beautiful flower in my garden’ in fancy cursive script on it?”

“do people really do that?” you frown. “i mean, i hope no guy does that for me-” katsuki exhales a breath of relief. you look at him questioningly but don’t press the issue. 

“i love you, katsuki,” you finish, “and no shitty clone will ever change that. ever.”

while he showers, katsuki’s thankful that he burned the roses from some secret admirer he found in your shoe locker during your high school days. 

[ickle-ronniekins]

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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[ererokii]

Heyyyyy, so I just finished the Aot 2 game and was kinda messed up by the ending... sooo in honor of that, could you possibly write something about the reader sacrificing herself to distract the Titans so that everyone can get away safe and she doesn’t come back for a few years? I’d prefer something with Jean but it’s completely up to you! Thanksssss

Thank you so much for requesting, I had a fun time writing this and I hope you love it!

For those that don’t know, this is based off of the Attack on Titan 2 game! This contains some spoilers from the game!

Year 3, 850

Three years of intense training are now behind me as today is the long-awaited graduation. Unfortunately, I could not come in the top ten, but Shadis believes that I have potential. My goal from the beginning hasn’t changed. I plan to dedicate my heart to the Scouts and take out the armored titan myself. 

Y/N

XX, 850

Reiner and Bertholdt escaped, and we were able to retrieve Eren and Ymir. Not long after the fight with them, we gained insight that Wall Sina has been breached. This is it. Now or never. The battle to keep our human race alive was at stake. I will not let defeat take over my body. 

Y/N

Jean’s eyes scan over the series of letters in the journal that belonged to an assumed fallen comrade. Every day for the past three years, it has always been the same routine. 

Get up, train, socialize with comrades and read this journal. 

By now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have memorized the whole book. Each inked word seemed to lose its meaning, and its color as the pages began to fade away, just like his hope did. 

The tips of his fingers grazed the rough sheets of paper, a lump forming in the back of his throat. No matter how many times he has read this, he can never shake off the dull aching pain in his heart when he realized he had looked over the last entry once again. 

Currently, he’s sitting in his room, the window open that allows the cool breeze to wash over his body. Goosebumps form on the nape of his neck as he shifts his attention to the walls in the distance. The moon took its place in the sky, the light shining down on the walls as if it were mocking him. 

His tongue peeks out and swipes across his lower chapped lip, hoping that the wetness is enough to moisture them. His fingers continually flip through the pages after the last entry, staring down at the blank pieces of faded white sheets.

The vivid images replay in his mind on the day Wall Sina was breached. Reiner, Bertholdt, and the Beast Titan were all there. The Beast Titan was a surprise to everyone. Out of all the battles, Jean has fought, this one was by far the most blood-curdling. The thought of humanity dying out on that field was enough to ignite a feeling in all the soldiers. 

When Eren and the rest of the scouts defeated Reiner for the second time, there was enough time to take Annie’s crystal back to an underground cellar. But because it weighed more, the horses were at a disadvantage. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jean likes to think that you survived. Maybe you were residing in the new buildings of Wall Maria once the scouts took it back. Perhaps you didn’t want to be apart of the Scouts anymore— then maybe you would be safe. 

The slamming of the door catches his attention as the sound of pants and coughs are heard. 

“Jean!”

“What, Connie?” He sighs and slicks his hair back. “What could you possibly want at this hour?”

“S-Someone’s approaching headquarters! I think it’s Y/N!”

His body grows cold at the sound of your name. “Y/N..?” He whispers underneath his breath, thinking that his mind was playing games. “How are you so sure?”

“The person is wearing the Scout uniform with no horse! We haven’t been scouting outside! It has to be her! It can only be her!”

“That has to be impossible,” he stands abruptly from his wooden chair, stalking towards his comrade. “She’s dead.”

“Weren’t you the one who told us to have faith?!”

“I did. A year ago. It’s been three years, Connie. She’s not coming back.”

“Jean,” he whispers, unsure if he heard right. “We all know you were heartbroken when she sacrificed herself but—“

“She’s gone, Connie!” His arm swings out as his fist collides with the wall, a surge of pain shooting through his arm. “Because I couldn’t help, she’s dead! We were useless! Maybe we should have let Reiner take Annie back so she would be here! But she’s dead!” 

His voice cracks as a lump grows in his throat, limiting the use of words. His nails dig into his palms, nowhere near, causing the amount of pain he felt within his heart. 

Only a few minutes pass as Connie leaves his friend alone, not wanting to upset him further. 

Jean’s mind begins to flood with the memory of your departure. His eyes are squeezed shut as the clear liquid runs down his face, damping the wood of the desk underneath his arms that rest under his head. His grown out hair sways slightly from the cold air that sent shivers down his spine. 

“The horses can’t go as fast with that big thing in the cart! There’s just too much weight!” Connie yelled out as he and Jean steered the horses forward as Titans trailed from behind. 

You, Mikasa, Eren, and the crystal that held Annie sat in the cart. The horses ran at top speed. Your fingers gripped the leather of the journal, nails pressing against the material. 

Your eyes are trained on the hoard of Titans that seem to get closer and closer by the minute. 

“Any minute, they’ll be on us!”

“I know that, Connie!” Jean grunts and glances over his shoulder. The determination in his voice washes away as his eyes widened, face growing pale as he watches you slide the journal into Eren’s hand as he lies unconscious. 

He was no fool to know what you would do. The air is knocked out of his lungs as the faint noise of the gear rings in his ears. It’s like he’s living in slow motion. His mouth opens as he screams out for you, begging to keep you on the cart.

Your alluring eyes bore into his own as your lips curve into a small smile, mouthing something to him as a hook shoots out from its confinement and into a tree, shooting your body forward. 

A hoarse sob leaves his mouth as he sits up, covering his face with his hand as his shoulder shakes violently. Jean can feel himself washing away from reality and falling into the deep void that was his heart as he cries. Each waking second he knows he’s becoming insane.

As harsh as reality was, the man wanted to live in his fantasy world, where you were still aliv—

“Jean..”

His body stifled as he heard the sound of a voice he knew by heart and loved dearly. His pupils are wide in shock as he stares forward at the walls' chipping paint in his room. 

“Impossible,” he trails off in a whisper, hands beginning to shake in uncertainty. “It’s impossible..”

“Jean...turn around,” you whisper into the tense air, walking forward as the creaking of the floors alerted him of your presence. “Please?”

“Maybe I have finally lost it,” his voice comes out in a lower octave as he runs his hand through his hair. “I guess that’s what I get for not sleeping.”

“Jean, it’s me!” You plead as you place your hand on his shoulder, feeling how tense he was under your fingertips. “It’s me..Y/N.” 

“No, she’s dead. I saw her leave us. You aren’t even here. You’re just a figure of my imagination to make me feel better so I won’t wallow in my pity.”

Your heart aches at his confession as you suddenly wrap your arms around him from behind, burying your head in his neck as your hair tickled at his exposed skin. “I’m home now, Jean,” your voice cracks as tears well up, the liquid hitting against him. “I’m back..”

“How can you?” He questions, relaxing upon touch. From a face showing sorrow, it shifted into one of seriousness. “I s-saw you leave us. You can’t be alive..it has to be a joke.”

“I survived Jean..can’t you see?” You press your cold hand against his warm cheek, feeling his warmth radiated off of his face. “I’m here..flesh and blood. I’m alive...I came back to you.”

Jean tilts his head to gaze up at you; his mouth parted as he gazed into your eyes. All the words he had to say now left his mind as his lips became parched, peeling his tongue out to lick them. “You are here..”

“I am!” You laugh through the tears, cupping his face in your hands. “I was in a shelter in Wall Rose. I was injured for a long time before I was able to return here.”

Words couldn’t express how the boy was feeling, only actions. He abruptly wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you flush against his body. “You’re here now..”

All of his worries and hidden thoughts could now be thrown out the window and buried deep underneath the earth, a place he would never have to reach. You were alright, alive and breathing.

And especially in Jean’s arms.

[butterbeerblurbs]

feeling heavy in the strongest arms (f.w.)

💌 : today, your heart felt exceptionally heavy. fred holds your heart gently in his hands, willing to keep you in his arms even if he doesn’t know why you feel that way. as long as it makes you feel a little bit better, that was all fred was willing to take.

📝 word count: 1,786 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 ☔️ pretty sad feels but somewhat comforting...? idek

💬: i just pictured, this could be one of the way fred could comfort y/n when she’s feeling upset and there’s no direct reasoning (also bc i see fred as someone who’s sensible to someone’s emotions, especially someone he’s infatuated with ;w;)

from the moment fred’s eyes landed on you in the great hall to start off his morning, something didn’t quite sit right. sure, you gave him the usual smile that sends the tingles down his spine and the burst of warmth gently combusts within when he’s able to spare you a kiss on your cheek as you take your spot next to him but... still, something’s not right.

“g’morning pretty lady,” fred tries the playful method and anticipates for the usual look of “fake” disgust. it doesn’t happen. instead he gets a small smile, a chuckle, even though he feels like that’s the last thing you want to be doing. 

“good morning, freddie,”

yet, fred doesn’t think it’s all that good.

he lets it slide, deciding not to bring it up in the morning when... maybe, just maybe, you didn’t sleep well? he’s hoping for that to be the case (because then it’s another excuse to take a nap together) but... no. when hermione asks if you slept well, you said you slept like a baby. you slept through angelina’s bloody snoring. that only meant you did sleep well.

if it’s not sleep then... hm... could it be-”oi, what are you doing? thinking about eating your own girlfriend for breakfast instead of what’s in front of you?”

fred turns to a mirror of himself, raising a brow with a smirk, “do you really want me to answer that, georgie?”

george gags and looks away, “merlin, you’re going to make me vomit out what i just ate,”

fred hears your voice laughing at what you’ve managed to hear between him and his twin. but when he glances back and locks eyes with you for a moment, he still doesn’t buy that everything’s alright.

//

said ginger boy is still confused as the day continues.

he’s had hours to ponder upon this and the more he observes from you, the more confused he gets. his answers doesn’t match up with the way you were acting (yes, he has been staring at you for a rather long time than doing actual work). it’s like... you were fine? but not really? fine to the eyes of the public, tip-top shape but... nothing about you gets past fred weasley.

absolutely nothing. not when he’s spent days upon months that gathered into the years of learning about you, still surprising himself how much he’s able to love you more each day.

this... this was new.

he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. he’ll continue thinking about it if it wasn’t for-”mr. weasley, maybe you’ll be able to produce something of worth if you actually did the work,” snape’s voice stiffen’s fred’s spine, and snape’s hand physically pushes the nape of his neck down to get to work.

he’ll get down to this soon enough... after potion’s, it seems.

//

surprisingly, fred manages to complete the task just in time for snape to barely let him scrape out of his classroom. fred anticipates he’ll have to rush after you as he collects his things but-”you alright, freddie?”

that voice makes him almost drop his book, missing his bag by an inch as he snaps his head towards the source of who that voice belonged to.

he gapes when you’re standing in front of him with a small smile, books to your chest and bag over your shoulder. you came to check up on him. even when it seems like the world has been unfairly cruel to you, you, still proved the world wrong with such kindness fred thinks you must be an actual angel.

“y-y/n,” he gapes, and that’s starting to-”you’re scaring me, freddie, are you alright?”

he runs his hand through his hair and stares at you, bewildered. however, he is thankful that the room is now empty as the remaining couple of students flutter out. “how?”

he hates how you look genuinely confused as your brows knit together, a pout forming whenever you felt unsure about something.

“h-how what?”

“how could you ask me that? how?” he shoves his book into his bag and leaves it on the stool, now both hands freely extending towards you to give you a gentle shake by your sides, “how can you ask me that when you’re the one not feeling okay?”

like a switch, fred watches as the facade you’ve been putting up all morning seems to crumble. he notices it starts with your breath hitching, which then slowly trails off to how your eyes appear sharp, suddenly blurry with the tell-tales of tears glassing over. fred could see himself frowning in them, and he absolutely hates the gut-wrenching feeling that swallows him whole.

even when you’re about to cry, there’s still a smile on your face.

“i-i can’t seem to hide anything from you, huh fred weasley?”

fred takes this moment to slip your books past your hands, nudging them onto the table. you allow your bag to slip from your shoulders as he tries to keep you close. and he doesn’t know if he’s doing that for your sake, or his.

“i... i feel heavy, freddie,” your voice barely makes it out to him, but it does. and each word is breaking his heart as he watches you try to explain your feelings that you weren’t completely sure of yourself. “it’s like... there’s a weight on my heart, pressing me down and i-”you lick your lips, tasting the saltiness trickling down you cheeks-”-i... feel so heavy, my heart feels so heavy,” you’re clutching onto the fabric of your robe directly above your heart, “it hurts so much, and i don’t even know why,” your voice is strained, stretched out across acres of trying to figure out why you feel like this but to no avail.

“i was feeling okay when i woke up this morning,” your lips are quivering at this point, sniffing as the tears can’t seem to stop, “why does it feel like my world has turned upside down all of a sudden?” fred knows you’re not asking him for the answer, rather, if there was a cruel higher up that was playing mind games with you, that was surely where your questions were directed to.

“i-i have everything, maybe not everything entirely but i should be happy,” you breathed in and out heavily, feeling your knees shaking, “and i am, genuinely am, but today,” fred doesn’t know since when you were out of breath, “m-my heart aches so much,”

fred flinches when you blink up to him, tears falling like your heart at the unexplainable weight that made its way without you noticing. he holds you tight, almost crushing you as he keeps you close to him like it’s the only thing he knows how to comfort you now. your hands don’t even make it around him, only going so far up to his waist to clutch onto the material of his robe hanging by his sides. he closes his eyes and gently strokes the back of your head, attempting to ease your sobs against his chest. he’ll willingly soak all of your tears, sadness, any ill feelings if he could. but knowing he can’t, if this could make you a little bit better or ease just a portion of the weight you were feeling, that’s as much as he’s grateful for.

it feels like an eternity ticked by but in reality it’s a mere ten minutes. your erratic breathing has calmed down from the nosedive of emotions you displayed that it’s starting to make you blush a little. fred only notices this when you’ve gone extremely quiet. he leans back just a little to peek at you, not only with red puffy eyes but also red cheeks.

“what’s the matter, love?” he asks softly, dipping down to get a glance at your eyes that seem too shy to meet with his now.

“i... i’m sorry, this was a lot to take in and... i just realised how much it was,” your tone was different this time. it registered to fred that... this was a tone he recognized. one of your hands remain holding to his robe, while the other reaching up to lightly punch his chest.

it may sound ridiculous but fred could hear yourself coming back. he could feel the aura around your changing.

“don’t tell me you’re sorry, y/n. you’re absolutely mad if you feel that now,” he raises a brow at you, “after all you just said? and cried? are you crazy?”

that makes you giggle - a genuine one, fred thinks - hands gingerly crawling around him to finally return the long-awaited hug.

“well... it’s... it’s not everyday you suddenly have to deal with your girlfriend bursting into tears and have no specific reason for it,” your voice is still raspy and sore from all the crying, but fred could pick out the syllables that gesture to him sonically that you were feeling better.

“i’d gladly take all of that in if it means i’m helping you overcome it,” he proudly puffs his chest out with that grin on his face but it also makes your heart swell at how much love you could feel he’s pouring just from the way he’s staring at you.

“thank you, freddie,” you lean forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, cheek against his chest. you can hear him smile as he squeezes you, then sway your bodies idly as he hums back, “don’t need to thank me, love,”

as the pair of you stay like that in silence (only for a few more minutes before you’d have to hurry along for the day), it’s like there’s an understanding that fred can’t possibly lift the weight up entirely for you. these were your emotions, after all.

but that doesn’t mean fred can’t stay with you as you get through them.

hand in hand, chest to chest.

((”promise if you want to cry, you’ll come to me? or at least, come see me after?” fred didn’t give you room to answer as he squishes your cheeks, towering over you with concerned eyes even though you're laughing, “yes, love? is that a yes? if you’re laughing like a goddess sent from above, i’ll take that as a yes!”

he was having a bit of trouble trying to push your cheeks together when you were grinning so wide, it’s making his heart do somersaults. not even the groaning of people at the common room could divert him away. (the both of you were, afterall, just mere steps away from them when you’re just by the stairs)

“yes, freddie, promise.”

“atta girl.” he winks, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he watches you go up to your room.))

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

I've got you - Derek Morgan x fem!reader part3

A/N: Thanks to @wanniiieeee for the idea:)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1907

***= time skip

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time in the past 20 minutes, my body wracked with nerves. After that night at Derek’s, he’d asked me to be his girlfriend and obviously I’d said yes. It was still incredibly new for us, seeing as it had only happened a few days back, but I couldn’t be happier. There were only two things weighing on my shoulders – telling the BAU lot, and Sean. I felt so guilty. Even though me and Sean were nowhere near being official as we’d only been out on a few dates, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d gone behind his back. He’d been nothing but sweet to me and the thought of hurting his feelings was killing me. But I knew I couldn’t be happy with him, not in that way anyway. Derek had suggested to just call him, but this felt more like something that needed to be done in person. So, I’d texted him asking if he wanted to grab a coffee and that I needed to talk to him.

“Hey, sorry I’m late traffic was a nightmare” He said, smiling as he sat down.

“Yeah no worries I get it.” I replied, returning his grin. “So how are you? How’s work going?”

“Yeah I’m doing good. The jobs going great, this new bakery I’m working at is so much better than the last place. You should swing by sometime; I might be able to snag you a free doughnut.” He joked.

“Oh, for free food? I’ll do anything” I said trying to hide my nerves. Sean cleared his throat.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Here goes nothing. I took a deep breathe before answering.

“Um, the thing is that I- well you know, you’re a great guy but- it’s just- I don’t wanna-“ I stumbled over my words, unsure of how to phrase it.

“Just take a breath Y/N, it’s okay.” Sean said calmly.

“Me and Derek are together.” I blurted out.

I held my breath as my eyes scanned over him, trying to get a grasp as to what he might be feeling. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. All of the above. But just like his brother, he was impossible to read. He was leant back in his chair, just sort of looking ahead of him. A neutral expression on his face.

“Sean I’m so sorry, I don’t even know how it happened – it just kind of did. You’re such a great guy and if it’s not to selfish of me I’d love to remain friends? But if your mad at me or anything like that I will totally understand.” I rambled anxiously.

Sean let out a small chuckle at my rushed state before leaning forward and placing his hands over mine.

“I’m not mad. These things happen you know. And as much as I enjoyed the dates we had; nothing was set in stone it was all relatively new so don’t feel bad about anything. We will definitely remain friends, I still need my drinking buddy.” He said nudging me arm. “I hope you and Derek will be happy together.” He gave me a genuine smile allowing me to relax.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“It’s all good” He replied. “So, what did my brother think?”

I chuckled, relaxing back into my seat.

“We haven’t told any of his team yet. I’m actually going there later to tell them.”

“Wow today is full of confessions”

“You got that right.”

Me and Sean spent the next few hours chatting about anything and everything

. Suddenly my phone rang, and Derek’s name flashed on the screen.

“Sorry I’ll be a minute” I said before standing up to take the call.

“Hey Derek”

“Hey you. How’s my favourite girl doing?”

“I don’t know I haven’t spoken to Garcia today” I teased.

“Hey, come on now, you know you’re my favourite.” He replied.

“Come off it, we all know Garcia will forever hold that position. But that’s okay because not only do I love her, but I’m also the one you come home to every night.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I could practically hear his smile through the phone.

“Anyway, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” I asked.

“Well, I wanted to see what time you’d be coming by the office. Oh, and check to see how things went with Sean”

“Things with Sean went great. He was so understanding and not mad at all. We’ve literally just been talking for hours. I don’t know why I was so stressed.”

“Because you overthink everything” Derek quipped.

“Um rude”

“But true”

I rolled my eyes while biting back at smile.

“Whatever. I’ll probably be able to come by in about 10 minutes. Sean has to get to work anyways.”

“Okay I’ll see you in a bit then.”

“Yep see you soon.”

“I love you gorgeous.”

“I love you too idiot”

I hung up the phone before he could bite back a response. Shoving my phone in my pocket I headed back into the café.

“Hey, so I guess it’s time for me to tell the team.” I said to Sean.

“Ah the time has come.” He laughed, standing up. “Well good luck, and if any of them give you shit – let me know”

“Sean in the nicest way possible, what could you possibly do? Tell them off?” I joked.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I can be quite intimidating when I like to be” He defend.

“Mhm sure you can. Now run along to your bakery.”

“You wound me. Truly.”

I laughed before waving goodbye to him and jumping back in my car.

**********************************************************************

The elevator ride to the BAU department was probably the most nerve-wracking trip. I was trying to convince myself that if Sean could accept it, there should be no reason for these lot not to. But to be honest, I think I was more worried about the a million questions we were about to get bombarded with. I mean Emily was already rooting for us. So yep, definitely more freaked for the questions. Derek was right, I over think stuff too damn much. As the doors open, I saw the man himself waiting at his desk for me. As his eyes caught mine, he flashed me that heart melting smile making me forget any worries I had.

“Hey” He greeted before wrapping his arms around me. “You nervous?”

“Nah. I was but realistically what’s there to be nervous about? At the end of the day, I still have you and that’s all I need.” I replied. He smiled brightly at me before leading me into the bullpen.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you.” Spencer called.

“Hey spence. It’s good to see you too.”

“Hey pretty boy, do you know where the others are? I wanna talk to you all.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Can you just grab the others? We’ll wait in the meeting room.” Derek replied before heading to the stairs. I saw Spencer shoot us a look before getting up to find the team. Derek leant back on the table.

“So how are you planning on telling them?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Me? I’m not telling them you are.”

“Why me?”

“Derek they’re your team. Not mine. Plus, I already had to tell Sean and that was stressful enough as it is so why would i-“

“Baby hey, stop pacing I was joking”

I hadn’t realised that was pacing back and forth across the room until he said that.

“Not nervous huh?” He joked. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Hey, come here”

I made my way over to him, standing between his legs. His arms gravitated towards my waist as I looped mine around his neck.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked softly. I moved my hands to fiddle with the collar of his shirt before answering.

“I just really don’t want to mess this up.” I whispered,

“Nothing the team can say will change anything-“

“No Derek I mean this, us.” I muttered. He placed his hand under my chin, lifting my eyes to meet his.

“Nothing you can do will change how I feel about you okay? I’m in this for the long haul.” His words made my stomach flutter.

“I love you.” I said before leaning in to kiss him. Even though it wasn’t the first, he took my breath every time. His lips just felt so perfect on mine.

“FINALLY” A shrill voice from behind us made us jump apart from each other. I turned to see the team standing in the doorway, a mixture of emotions on their faces. The voice that had scared us belonged to Garcia as she stood there grinning like the Cheshire cat whilst clapping her hands happily.

“Details now. When? Where? How long? Can I plan the wedding?” She gushed. I could feel my face burning bright red as I stood there unable to talk. Derek stood up, snaking his arm around my wait.

“Relax babygirl. We’ll explain everything” Derek said to her.

“T-that’s not exactly how we planned to tell you” I said, the embarrassment of being caught by our friends beginning to sink in.

“It’s about time” Emily chipped in, nudging me on the arm. “I’ve been waiting.”

Derek shot her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean considering what happened at yours the other night, I figured it would happen sooner or later” She replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Derek looked at me. “You told her?”

“She literally came over and I was freaking out of course I told her” I replied, laughing.

“What happened at Derek’s?” Garcia called, her eyes darting between the three of us.

“Emily went over to check on them because neither of them were answering their phones..” JJ answered.

I looked at Emily. “So, you told JJ?”

Emily held her hands up defensively. “She’s my girlfriend I had to.” I rolled my eyes.

“And by doing that she interrupted them about to kiss” Spencer piped up. My jaw dropped.

“You told Spencer too?” I looked at Emily accusingly.

“No! I only told JJ” I turned to JJ, raising my eyebrows expectantly

“He’s my best friend.” She replied.

Derek sighed. “Okay so was there anyone who didn’t know?”

“Well technically me and Hotch didn’t know but we had a feeling.” Rossi answered. “Actually, that reminds me, you owe me ten bucks Aaron”

I threw my hands up. “Oh, brilliant so three of you knew and the other two had a bet on us. Good to know” I said sarcastically.

“I’m feeling rather left out. Why am I the last to find out?” Garcia pouted.

“Gotta save the best till last babygirl” Derek replied, throwing his arm around her giving her a squeeze.

“Good point” She said, the smile promptly returning to her face.

“You two are good together. I hope you’ll be happy” Hotch commented with a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks Aaron.” I said returning the smile.

“Right” Emily clapped her hands together. “Who wants to go get drinks to celebrate the couple of the hour.” Everyone raised their hands and headed out the door.

“Hey” Emily grabbed Derek’s arm pulling him back slightly. “Be good to her.”

Derek patted her hand. “Always. I’ve never felt like this before about anyone. There’s no way I’m losing her.”

[jarofstyles]

Waterfalls

A/N: We had so much fun writing the last one that we decided to do another one 👉🏼👈🏼This is another prompt from @majorharry​​’s 20k fic celebration! (congrats again cass, we lysm) we used prompt 40 “Cover up, please.” a nice little smutty possessive harry moment for you all in contrast to the last one ✨ - n + d

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, exhibitionism, daddy kink, spit kink

word count: 3.3k

“Cover up, please.” Harry muttered, clenching his jaw noticing the stares coming over to them. It was to Y/N though. The pool party was a good idea in theory but once he realized people were going to see more of his lover in general, he felt that little (big) possessive head of his rear and he felt feral, a little bit. He didn’t like other people looking. Simply put— she was his. Of course she was her own person. Independent. She didn’t need him, but she chose to be his and that was the best damn thing that has happened for him. Adding in the fact that yes, Y/N was the most beautiful person he had ever experienced, he knew other people could see it too. Most of the time? He loved it. He showed her off to many people. But when she was showing so much skin and people’s minds would wander... he did worry. He didn’t like people imagining what her skin felt like or how it felt to grab his waist or how beautiful her shape really was. Harry took her cover up and scowled, holding it up to her. The roll of her eyes made him whine, pulling her further into his body. “No. Don’t want ‘em staring too much.” His large hands covered her ass, pouting slightly.

“Baby...” Y/N chuckled, looking up at him with her brows raised. She knew he had a tendency to be possessive, but it was something she thought of as no big deal. He was just protective of her, wanted to assert his dominance over anyone who thought about putting the moves on her. But this? She didn’t realize this would cause it to flare up. “We’re at a pool party, what’d you think I was going to wear?” She asked, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his face in an attempt to soothe him. “No one is looking at me.” Y/N pecked his lips a few times, “and if they are, they can clearly see you’re with me, no?” She wiggled her bum a bit in his hands. “Let’s go swim hmm?” She suggested, thinking that if she was in the water then she would be covered up in theory. “It’s way too hot for me to be wearing anything else.”

“Fine. At least in the water they can’t eye you up.” Harry glared at a group of younger guys looking her up with a near snarl on his face. No way in hell. He didn’t know where exactly this type of possessiveness came from. He usually was quite cool and collected, only having his moments sometimes. But today it was ten times as bad. He was truly unsure as to why besides the fact that she looked fucking incredible. He walked with her to the pool and laughed when she decided to jump in without him, Harry following shortly after. This was someone’s fancy house party and they had a sick pool. One with a water fountain and one of those pool bars and shit. But Harry was more focused on getting to a place where he could be with her alone. Before they’d made it to the pool, she had her cover up on and talked to people, Harry’s arm around her shoulder. They’d met up here after a long day of classes and hadn’t seen each other all day.

Y/N pushed her hair back as she came up from underwater, adjusting her bikini top so that nothing was falling out before she swam over to Harry and took his hands. “Come deeper.” She mumbled, pulling him further into the deeper end of the pool where it was less crowded. She’d missed Harry today and though they were at a party, she felt like she could take a few minutes to spend some time with her man. They both worked really hard and whenever they had spare moments they always found ways to make them count. 

Once they were in too deep she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, tangling her hands in his hair to get it wet. Harry looked incredible like this, granted he always did. Y/N couldn’t help but think that part of it was because he was looking at her like she was the last meal on earth. She swore he hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since they got here.

“Look so good today. Always look phenomenal but... just have a glow.” Harry commented, feeling a sense of serene come over him while she had pet over his hair and got it wet. Harry moves them to a little shelf in the pool wall, perfect for him to sit on while she clung to him. “Been missin’ you all day, bunny. Wanted to kiss you first thing but, everyone else tries to steal your attention away.” He pouted. It was a needy day, which was pretty rare considering his natal chart, but it happened. Especially because he felt so stable with her. Never had he had an easier relationship. She made everything feel at ease. He really did love this girl. “Want to be selfish with you for a little bit. Can I have my kiss hello before someone comes n’ interrupts us?”

“Thank you, angel..” Y/N felt herself grinning wider and wider. She loved when Harry got like this. She loved seeing him get all soft and sweet and needy for her attention. Y/N knew most of the time I was her bugging him for his attention, but this was a welcomed change. “Mhm...“ She hummed, leaning in to press a sweet and gentle kiss to his lips. It wasn’t long before that one gentle kiss turned into a slow and steamy one. Y/N expected it though, continuing to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The slight scratch of his facial hair was something that was new, but she didn’t mind. It just reminded her that Harry was growing into this beautiful man that she loved. She pulled back hesitantly, giggling as he chased after her lips and nuzzled her face in his neck. “Missed you...” Y/N mumbled against his skin, “Didn’t mean for people to steal me away... forgive me?” She licked at the most sensitive spot.

“S’okay. You’re just so desirable. Everyone wants to be around you. Don’t blame ‘em. But you’re mine.” Harry felt even more safe with the cover of the water to hold her ass, keep her close to him. The kisses on his neck had him sigh to himself. She loved to kiss and lick at his neck a lot,  thing between them both, something he loved too. He was incredibly sensitive there and he felt good whenever she decided to treat him to some affection there. “Sometimes I don’t like Sharing you with everyone. They know you’re mine but still look at you like you’re available n’ if I was a bit more aggressive I’d probably call ‘em out on it. But I’d rather sit and get kisses from you than get in a fight.” He sighed, leaning his head a bit to the side. “You have a good day otherwise?”

“Yeah?” Y/N smirked to herself, he’d rather get kisses from her than get in a fight. “You’re such a good boy, hmm.” She teased, nipping at his skin just a little bit. “I am yours, don’t have to worry so much. Know I’m only ever going to want you, yeah?” That much was true. She hadn’t even looked at anyone else the way she looked at him. He was everything she could ever want or need from a man and it seemed that he felt the same about her. They’d been together for a few years and yet they hadn’t really left that honeymoon phase. “My day was alright... same old stuff. ‘S better now though.” She hummed, clearly her mind was somewhere else. There was just something about Harry being so possessive and needy that made her feel desired... wanted... Honestly, that’s all a woman really needed to get turned on.

“Good.” Harry took her in and could read her face. It was obvious, because he knew her. She was aroused. Horny. Whatever you chose to call it, she was wanting touches and biting her lip, looking at him with a little bit of a lost look. It was then he decided to swim them over to the waterfall area, letting themselves get wet as they moved through it. Thankfully it was empty, a small area behind it went deeper and he felt the mischief light up in his eyes. 

“You’re shit at hiding when you’re horny.” He chuckled, pressing her against the wall of the faux cave. “Completely shit. You’ve got the drunk eyes and you keep stroking me.” It was making him smug as hell but he knew she wouldn’t really care. “What’s got you all turned on then?” He ran a hand under the water to grip her waist and tug her closer to him, adjusting their stance. “I’d like to know what’s goin’ on in my girls head.”

“Who said I was trying to hide it?” Y/N said as a matter of factly, looking up at him with those ‘fuck me’ eyes that she knew she was horrible at concealing. Wasn’t that the point though? Wasn’t the point for him to know whenever she needed him? He always took good care of it, she never had to touch herself. He was always there to help. She wished she could just strip them both naked in this pool, wished he would make a mess of her and make her feel breathless for the rest of the party. Y/N wasn’t opposed to doing things in public, they’d done it many times before. It was a different kind of rush. One she couldn’t explain. “Like when you get all protective of me..” Y/N told him, “like when you’re needy for me... makes me want to climb you like a tree.” She couldn’t be any closer to him at this point, that familiar throb appearing between her thighs. “‘s fucking hot.”

“Oh? Didn’t know you were so hard for me when I got possessive over you.” Harry smirked. It probably was because it was rare that he got so openly needy or annoyed at the attention she got because he wanted all of it. “M’glad you think it’s hot.” He found himself at her neck, returning the favor of kissing her neck. “But I can’t leave you all horny n’ not take care of you. What kind of boyfriend would I be?” He cooed. 

“A bad one...” Y/N hummed in response, letting out a happy sigh as he kissed at her neck. “but you’re the best...” She told him, leaning into him as his hands began to move. 

His fingers wandered south, finding the bit of swimsuit covering her cunt, smirking when he could hear her let out a shaky gasp. The water from the waterfall and the music and commotion from outside the party was loud enough that he wasn’t worried as long as they kept it down a decent amount. “Mm. That’s my girl, s’what I want. Do you want to cum?” He questioned, nipping a bit harshly at the joint of her jaw and neck.

“Yes. I want to cum. Please.” She pleaded in a whiny tone. “So bad, please... can I?” Y/N huffed, gripping a little tighter at his hair and feeling another shaky breath escaping her. She wanted relief. She knew he would give it to her, but how? Her free hand rested against his shoulder, that little bit of height difference making her quiver. There was just something about him looking down at her, all wet and hungry for her. His fingers tucked so perfectly between her folds. Even the slightest shift had her wanting to whimper. They were in public though, she needed to be quieter.

“Course you can, baby. M’not gonna let you suffer like this.” Harry murmured, pressing his fingers against her to rub a bit. Get her warmed up. To be honest, public shit got them both off. It did, and it was hot. He had taken her in the car, fingered her in a taxi (making sure to tip well), in many club or pub restrooms, as well as various other places. It was the rush. 

“Gonna let me make you cum in the pool? In front of all these people? Such a naughty little thing.” Harry chuckled under his breath. “Love when you get all dirty for me. Can’t even wait till we get home, jus’ wanna cum all over my fingers.” He rubbed over her clit a bit harder, licking over her jaw.

A squeak of pleasure came from her, her hips jolting forward to get more but he knew just what to do. Slow and steady, perfectly pressured movements against her most clit. It was perfect, but she became ravenous once she had a taste. “Thank you, daddy.” She breathed out, her hips starting to move in sync with his fingers. “Yes!” She squeaked out once again, giggling knowingly when he said he loved when she got all dirty. He had given her the nickname bunny for that reason. Y/N fucked like one. Hard and fast and needy. It was good for the both of them, he liked to tame and she liked to be tamed. “Wanna cum all over your fingers daddy, want to make a mess for you, like a good girl.” Y/N told him, biting down on her lip to hold back a moan. She was looking up at him, keeping eye contact as he moved his fingers and felt his cock begin to harden against her stomach. 

“Daddy...” She whined, brushing her front up against him just enough. Y/N felt overwhelmed with need, his fingers felt so good. She looked up at him and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue just enough. He knew what it meant.

“Oh? My dirty lil’slut.” Harry grinned before he leaned over, spitting into her mouth. They didn’t do it every time, but it was an immediate cock tease when she wanted it. He loved her so much, especially because of how damn compatible they were. “Wanting me to spit into your pretty mouth n’ finger your cunt when all these people are around. Getting all wet because m’needy?” He let out a chuckle. “Course. You’re just my dirty girl. I love it so much.” He gripped her chin, opening her mouth again to see her eager tongue before he spit into her mouth again. She clenched and he could feel how hot it got her, pressing one finger in. A harsh whine came from her mouth, eyes closing, which had his attention. “Shhhh. Do you want them all to hear how much of a slut you are for me?” He asked, a bit condescending— he knew it made her wet— waiting for her to respond.

“No, daddy, I’ll be good.” Y/N whimpered quietly, feeling her cunt pulse at Harry’s words and actions. He always got her this riled up, it was never just a little bit. No, they were very much all or nothing but that made things extremely fun. “Please— don’t stop.” She whimpered out thrusting her hips forward. Y/N loved whenever he spat in her mouth. She felt like it was an unspoken dominance thing and it never failed to have her sopping wet. Of course they were in the water, but there was a clear difference between the water and her slick. Harry’s fingers moved so well, she knew she couldn’t have gotten any more soaked than she was. Another moan threatened to escape her but her own hand flew up to cover her mouth, biting down on the skin in an attempt to muffle the noise. She kept eye contact with Harry, feeling her knees growing weaker with every brush against that sweet sweet spot.

“Mmm.. I don’t know.” Harry cooed lowly. “I think you do get off on it. I think it makes you wet to think about everyone knowin’ how dirty you are.” He grinned, feeling her clench around his fingers again. Oh, yes. She absolutely did. They’d been together long enough for him to know exactly what she liked. “C’mon.” He breathed against her mouth as he fucked his fingers into her. “Admit it. Tell me how much you want them to know how dirty you are.” He was taunting her for sure but she seemed to like it, her soft little whine and whimper against his mouth as her hips bucked into his hand. When she hesitated, Harry let out a tut and shook his head, sliding another finger into her. “M’not asking again, baby. Tell me.” 

Her hand moved from her mouth to grip at his bicep for stability. Y/N whimpered against his lips, feeling the orgasm building within her stomach. Harry was doing it on purpose, he loved the power he held over her, knew that he had her in the palm of his hands all desperate for relief. Y/N was too scared to speak, she knew she couldn’t keep quiet for much longer especially with how perfectly his fingers were moving inside of her. She looked up at him blankly, letting out a pathetic closed mouth whine. 

“Yes, daddy! I do want them to know! I want them to know I’m a dirty slut for you!” She gasped at the feeling of now three fingers inside of her. “Make me feel so good, want everyone to know! Want everyone to know because they can’t have you! You’re mine.” Y/N was damn near tears at this point, bouncing in sync with his movements, begging to cum. “I’m so close daddy, please?”

“That’s my girl.” Harry grinned smugly. Harry loved making her admit those things, loved having her give in to him. A kink, maybe. Whatever that would be. “Cum for me. Let go.” He nipped are her skin, thrusting his fingers harder into her cunt and felt as she finally let go. His hand coming underneath her ass, holding her up as her body trembled and she let out the prettiest whine. There was nothing prettier than watching his girl cum. Nothing. “That’s it baby.” He continued thrusting his fingers in, curling them a bit to make her shudder. Keeping the orgasms going was the best thing ever, feeling her lose it on him.

Y/N felt like she couldn’t see straight, had proper stars in her eyes. Nothing could ever explain the true feeling of bliss that came after a release so sweet. She was panting, out of breath, trembling under his touch. Her eyes slowly closed as she attempted to catch her breath, fully leaning on him for stability. It was silent for a few moments, only the sounds of her heavy breathing, the water falling down, and the sound of the music. Y/N couldn’t have imagined it to have gone any better. She pressed soft kisses to his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling herself relax. 

“That was so good...” She mumbled against his skin, “so fucking good.” She let out a chuckle and moved her hands up to cup his cheeks, pressing a sweet and loving kiss to his lips.

“Mm. I love you, sweetheart.” Harry murmured, pulling his fingers from her and gently adjusting the bathing suit bottoms so she was covered again. There wouldn’t be much clean up thanks to the water. “Now.. how about we go off and grab some drinks? Yeah? Can sit in my lap while we dry off by the bonfire.” He suggested, brushing a bit of the wet hair from her face away. 

God, did he love her. Who knew having a bit of possessiveness would get them this far?

--------------------------------------------

A/N: This was very fun to write! we did get some requests to write some filthier stuff so consider this the beginning 😅and again, congrats to cass!! - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist 

[rainygothherowolf]

Daminette- Oblivious Idiots

Ladybug groans her face in a pillow as she freaks out a little a lot.

"How'd you figure it out? I'm not that obvious, am I? Do you think he knows? He can't know, that would be awful- ohhhh NonononononoNOnonononooooo. No. Please, tell me he doesn't know." Ladybug is laying face down on the couch in the living room of Titans Tower, Beast Boy smirking down at her reaction to being found out. The boy just brought up her rather obvious crush, and now the Parisian hero is a little panicked. If Beast Boy noticed who else did? Everyone on the team is really smart.

The Parisian joined the Titans over a year ago after asking the Justice League for help. She fits into the team’s dynamic really well, playing video games with Beast Boy and Kid Flash; hanging out with Star and binging rom-coms; Raven was a tough nut to crack but didn’t seem to mind hanging out. They did get along but respected that they just had very different interests.

Robin is a completely different story, at first he was rude but the bluenette was stubborn. She wasn't going to deal with his bratty attitude, she sticks up for her herself. At some point, the Parisian earns his respect. They became friends over time, working well together though Robin insisted they train so she could improve her technique.

"It's kinda obvious for me, but he's pretty dense. Bats are always idiots when it comes to emotions n' stuff." The young Parisian hero looks up from her pillow.    

"I know that... he's my best friend. Friend- Merde. What if he sees me just as a friend!?" The bluenette's hands go to her hair, eyes blown wide. It takes everything in Beast Boy not to laugh at how blind the girl is being. Does she not see how smitten the fourth Robin is for her? That he acts more like a human being when she's around?

"No, what if all he ever sees in me is a friend? This isn't good, then we'll never date and he's just so datable. Have you seen the way his nose crinkles when he tastes something he doesn't like, holding it until it goes away? And the way he swoops his hair, I'd bet it's soft. And he's so strong-"

"Ew. I have ears, please don't-" Ladybug doesn’t seem to hear him, continuing her rant. 

"And then one day I'll have to watch him fall for someone, I think I already have. It's awful- not that I'm not happy he's happy, because I am- but I think he likes Raven. They spend so much time together, sneaking off sometimes."

"I bet they like each other, how could I compete with her. She's amazing, and- and I'm not." The bluenette's tone goes from one of acceptance to defeat.

"Oh, okay, we got serious. Uh- don't cry." When he and Raven went over the plan, they hadn't covered the possibility of a) Ladybug thinking Robin and Raven were a thing; or b) that Ladybug would compare herself to Raven. The Parisian is always so self-confident and optimistic, perfect even- she never lets anyone get her down. She huffs at his less than helpful response.

"I'm not gonna cry. It's just, why would he like me? I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm annoying." The girl stands pacing, trying to decipher the enigma that is Robin. The girl's moods changes at the drop of a dime, leaving Beast Boy to try and play catch-up.

"Am I  annoying to him? Probably. Raven is so calm and nice, he has no reason not to like her."

"That's definitely not true, if he thinks that he would tell you." She nods, sitting on the couch, leaning on her hands. His words help a little but a girl’s mind is her worst enemy, all the worst 'what if's' popping into her brain like spam mail in an already full mailbox.

This is going to take more intervention than he thought. "You're ridiculous, that isn't true."

"You're just blind, and as you would say- 'you're too close.'" Robin rolls his eyes, Raven is sitting on her bed as Robin looks at her, standing.

"All I'm saying is-"

"I understand what you said, you don't need to repeat it. All I'm saying is-" He mocks, "- that it's highly unlikely she'd be interested in me." This time Raven rolls her eyes, he really is an idiot.

"How can I prove it to you- just ask her out. She'll say yes."

"I don't trust you, you have no proof."

"Fine. Don't believe me, but mark my words, if you wait too long she might settle for someone else. You heard her complain about being mobbed on Valentines day last year."

"Whatever, she didn't like any of them."

"Yeah, because she likes you." Robin glares at Raven as he walks out of her room to go train. Robin first saw her as annoying but she grew on him. He mistook his interest in her as friendship until Raven commented on his liking their latest addition without telling her. It went downhill from there, now it’s like he can’t get her off his mind.

He tried to deny it, reason a way out of the conclusion. Raven did her best to encourage him but she was getting nowhere, the entire team was frustrated because both refused to see what was staring them right in the face.  Beast Boy and Raven meet with Starfire after both Ladybug and Robin go back to their respective home cities.

"What did you the learn?" Beast Boy speaks up first, recounting his confronting Ladybug about it. 

"She's got it bad, thinks he and Raven are into each other." 

"Robin is convinced she doesn't like him. He doesn't want to get rejected so he refuses to ask her out."

"How can we tell him she likes him that he actually does the listening?"

"He'd only be convinced if he heard her say it." Raven reasons, knowing how blind and hard headed Robin is.

"There's no way she'll fess-up, she's too insecure. Even if we convinced her that Robin wasn't into you."

"I wish the little D could just hear her say it in passing. He would ask without fear and she'd get to date him without putting herself out there." Beast Boy can already see it, it’s the perfect plan. 

"I'm sure I could get her to talk about it in the hall, you could get him close enough to hear?" Beast Boy offers, it could work but they can't see each other.

"We'll use the hallways on the fifth floor, that are separated by a wall and meet towards the elevator?"

"Sounds great, Mama." Raven rolls her eyes at his nickname for her. Starfire looks between the two before abruptly standing, trying to hide her smile.

"Yes, well, I must attend to some dishes. Farewell." The two shared a look. Perhaps it isn't only Robin and Ladybug that need to come clean.

"We gotta say something sooner than lat-"

"I know, but not yet. We could use this to our advantage..." "Right? So I had to go all the way to the other side of the city to deliver this banner, it was worth it though. The skater friend won."

"Do they still race? You said this was a normal way to spend your weekend."

"O-oh well, I don't see them much anymore." Ladybug's shoulders turn inwards, looking to the floor. Robin hates the small frown on her lips, he knows better than to pry but maybe if he got some more information he could help.

"How come?"

"Just, time. Grew apart I guess."

"You're an awful liar."

"I take that as a compliment!" Ladybug defended, smiling slightly. "You see, while Mr.-Tall,-Dark,-Handsome,-and-Mysterious is making up lies he has to keep straight I'm simply seen as an airhead that forgets her phone everywhere she goes!"

"You're even worse at changing the subject." Ladybug's smile falters.

"Hehe, yeah, have you seen Star? She said she had the cutest picture of you asleep in your costume with some dog." Robin crosses his arms, why is she avoiding the subject?

"I have plenty of pictures of 'the dog' but please-" He pats the seat next to him on his bed, "-elaborate on this 'growing apart' situation." He isn't going to give in, he has that face he used to do during training when she was too tired to get up. Ladybug sit, plopping onto the bed her arms spread across the comfortable fabric of the duvet.

"I can't say much, just that they don't want to be friends with me anymore. None of them do."

"Who's none of them?"

"My friends. All of them, only one does but they 'can't' be my friend. He just doesn't have enough of a backbone."

"Surely you have other friends besides the mindless heathens."

"School and hero duties add up, I hardly have enough time to keep up with my jobs. I don't have time for that, and they could get suspicious, notice the patterns where my old friends would see the clumsy forgetful me." He nods, laying on his back and turning to look her in the eye.

"At least I have you guys." She smiles, brushing some hair from Robin's forehead. It feels nice.

"If it were up to me-"

"It isn't, and it's best not to dwell. Come on, bird boy, let's get a snack."

"Right, but none of that hot chocolate nonsense." She rolls her eyes, she'll get him to try it. One day.

"Are we sure this is gonna work?" Beast Boy is unsure, Raven hadn't seen the way Ladybug reacted, it was like no matter what he said her mind found some way to turn it into a bad thing, like she could only see the worst in a situation. It was completely unlike her.

"Yes."

"But-"

"No 'but's', this will give Robin the push he needs to ask her out. She'll say yes. End of story."

"Then why are we planning the the thing with the mo-"

"In case he's more dense than humanly possible and because it's time people knew."

"Right... I'll wait till ten minutes from now to get her to walk past, you have till then to get him there, we'll take two laps just in case." Raven nods before going to look for Robin. She finds him in the living room, reading a book. 

“Come.” Raven turns around and makes her way towards the elevator, he catches up and they ride to the fifth floor. They exit and hide behind the designated wall. 

"You are not to make a sound, simply wait and listen.”

They wait.

And listen.

It takes ten minutes for something to happen, the elevator bell rings and opens at their floor. Raven motions for him to stay quiet. Robin hears to footsteps as someone sighs.

"-How could I not? He's just so- dreamy."

"Ew. Why do you even like him? You're too nice for him."

"I am not 'too nice' and Robin is not mean... He's just... gruff- yeah, gruff, at first. But you should have seen how cute it was when we were talking about something and I was laying and he laid down next to me and there was hair blocking his eyes a little so I swiped it out of the way and it was so soft." She says it all in one breath which should be concerning if Robin’s attention wasn’t being taken up by trying to not freak out. His eyes wide, back pressed against the wall so as not to get caught. She keeps talking, he has to hear more.

She sounds so sure of her affection, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. She likes him? Like to date? Raven is right? This is impossible, but it was happening. She’s ranting about things not even he notices about himself like they’re the most amazing things in the world.

"And have you seen him smile? And his laugh, it's one of my favorite things about him. And did you notice the way he always perks up when there's a happy animal on the television, like it reminds him of something- I'd bet he has an animal. I wish I could have a pet." They kept walking, she kept rambling about him, his hair, his smile, the way he walked. He heard the voices fade at she and Beast Boy kept walking.

"I told you." Robin didn't even have a response, she feels the same way?

"She likes me?"

"You've got to be joking, after all that, you still don't believe it?"

"Shut up, I'm processing." Raven crosses her arms, impatiently waiting, they'll loop back soon.

"She likes me."

"Just keep listening." Ladybug and Beast Boy came back into earshot. When they got closer, Beast Boy cut her off when she starts going off topic about his hair.

"So if he asked you out, what would you do?" Robin hears them stop, she makes a high pitched whine he knows means she’s flustered, she used to do it every time he glared her down and got a little too close, at the time, an unknown symptom of his attraction towards the heroine.

"I mean, if I could speak- I'd say yes but I'd probably freak out and fall or trip over my words. It doesn't matter, he wouldn't ask. Why in the world would he like me?" Raven has to remind Robin to stay quiet and hidden with a shushing motion and a hand to his shoulder. He stays in place despite the fact that he wanted to list every reason why he would. His stupid monkey brain thought of kissing her to drive his point home but shoos the intrusive thought away.

"Right, and what you'd kiss him?" It was like his teammate is reading his stupid, teenage mind.

"Pretending he liked me back? I mean, I could go on about his li-"

"Please don't." The bluenette laughs with him.

"Ah! I have to go meet Robin for training. Bye!"

"Later." The girl's footsteps disappear as the elevator door arrives and carries her towards the training room.

"Dude you better not say she doesn't like you again." Beast Boy sad, knocking on the wall to get his attention.

"Why don't you just ask her?"

"Yes, the little D, she will the gladly accept." Kor'i appears out of nowhere, he hates when she hovers like that. He can never tell where she is. He glares at them all, he’s late to meet with Ladybug. How in the world is he going to face her after that, it was so wrong to have listened. She hadn't meant for him to hear those things. Robin is filled with guilt as he walks into the waiting elevator and nears the training room. Ladybug is there smiling and slightly pink, likely from their teammate's questions.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." He couldn't tell her he heard, she'll get embarrassed. He can't act on it either, she sounds busy enough as is. He would just be in the way.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He snaps at her this time, the rest of their training session is silent. She leaves back to Paris as soon as her shift is over, not staying to speak with Robin like she usually does. No one is amused by his behavior.

"What the hell? You get the confirmation you've been needing to finally ask her out and you start acting like you hate her?" Beast Boy finally exclaims, Raven kicks him under the chair.

"It's none of your business, and none of you should have interfered. I was not meant to hear any of that, she doesn't have time for me anyways." Robin gets up from his seat and walks towards the zeta-tube.

After that, things get a little better. Robin isn't rude or snappy to her but they don't talk or have their little one on one training sessions. Ladybug does everything in her power to try and rebuild the bridge she didn't know had been burnt. She doesn't know what she did wrong, what she said, what happened made Robin want to avoid her like the plague.

Is he going to leave her too?

No. It doesn't matter that he probably put two and two together and knows she likes him, that he probably likes someone else, he is her friend at the very least, it might not be enough but it’s something.

Ladybug gathers her courage, waiting for him to pass the one place she knows she can get him. Waiting right at a corner, she hears him coming. She wants to laugh when he slows, always knowing when she tries to sneak up on him, but this time she holds it in. Reminding herself of why she’s there.

Just as he comes into range, she turns the corner and faces him. 

Her face is angry, no, pissed. Her eyebrows scrunched, a deep frown replacing the usual smile, she shoves a finger onto his chest. He always knew she was there but her expression, it’s hurt and angry and world ending- his world to be specific.

"What is your deal? What the hell did I do to you that you won't even talk to me anymore? What did I say? Why do you suddenly hate me?"

"I-"

"I mean, one day we're laughing and talking, and I tell you about what happened with my friends, and then the next you don't even bother to greet me!" She berates him in French, she gets more passionate about her speech until she's out of gas. At least, that's what he thinks.

“It’s disrespectful and hurtful! You don’t just drop someone because they did something to upset you, you try to fix it. You try to work through it!” 

"I-"

"What? You what? I told you about my friends, not only did I put a lot of trust in you for that- it could have pointed towards my identity if I slipped up. You're too easy to talk to. And don't you dare say that this is just how you are because we both know you've been off lately. So just tell me! Tell me you hate me, tell me you want space, tell me somethings wrong or that I did something but just don't shrug this off. You are too important to me to just let this go!" He can see the unshed tears in her eyes, why is she crying? Why does he have to make her cry? He doesn’t deserve her tears, her affection, he doesn’t deserve her. 

"I just- I think you can do better. I’m not a good enough companion." Robin refused to use the word friend, she isn’t his friend, she’s so much more than that. A rouge tear falls, her face incredulous.

"What?"

"You sound busy enough, you'd be better off spending your time with someone else." Robin doesn’t look her in the eye, it’s the honest truth but he can’t stand looking at her so upset. 

Ladybug is at a loss, that’s why he’s upset? Because he thinks she was wasting her time? That he wasn't good enough for her to spend her time with?

It’s like a switch flips, her anger melting away. Her jabbing finger falls.

"Who could be better?" She hugs him, Damian does have some experience from Grayson so he awkwardly returns the favor. The far shorter girl sniffles once before pulling back with a smile.

Robin feels a pang in his chest, he made her cry. She wipes away the unshed tears from the corners of her eyes, glad to have the mess over and done with. He vows never to do so ever again.

"I never wanna hear you say that you're anything less than the best, c'mon time to get your butt handed to you."

"Spar?"

"You wish." Robin sighed, she always beats him in video games. As they walk, the alarm blares. There’s an attack somewhere. The duo runs towards the living room, Starfire is already there with Beast Boy, Raven, and Kid Flash.

"We've got two. There's some kind of monster tearing through down town, we need to stop them."

"And the other?" Robin asks.

"Paris, akuma." Ladybug groans, like she always does. She runs off towards the zeta tubes with a wave goodbye. Time to deal with the mangy cat's puns.

Robin and the rest of the team walk back into Titan Tower expecting to see Ladybug waiting for them, she always gets back before them in situations like this. Kid Flash speeds off after grabbing his things saying he’s late to something, as usual. Beast Boy limps, most of his weight supported by Raven as they make their way towards the med bay. 

Robin and Starfire sit in the living room, she shows him photos of Dick in ridiculous sleeping positions or mid fall but Robin is on edge. Why isn't she back yet?

Of course, he gets an immediate answer. Ladybug's distress signal goes off, he and Star are off without a moment's hesitation. Jumping into the zeta-tubes, worry for their teammate clear. After over a year of working with her she’s never used the distress button. The machine powers up and blinds them, Damian jams a communicator in his ear and tunes in to the local news station. He hears where Ladybug is and he and Starfire set off in search for the girl. Paris is bright, people stop and stare as the heroes make their way towards the Eiffel tower.

Robin's mind is hyper focused and clouded at the same time, he knows he has to be at his best to help Ladybug so he shoves all that annoying emotion in a stupid box, shuts it, locks it, and pushes it into a dark little corner. They arrive at the lawn of the Eiffel tower.

Looking exhausted, Ladybug charges the villain. A blond boy in a black cat suit is flung at her with ease. The monster tries to throw a bus full of people at the two as Ladybug tries to get the boy off, he doesn’t seem to care, trying to hug the girl. Robin feels his chest tighten in jealousy.

Robin motions towards the bus, Starfire flies past and catches the bus mid air. The dark haired teenage boy is quick to lift the ill equipped partner he's heard so very much about off Ladybug.

"I believe she is trying to get up." He drops the boy to the side before offering a hand to Ladybug.

"Hello, again." Ladybug smiles up at him, taking Robins hand. Pulling her up, the two stand close together. Staring.

"Hi."

"Shall we get back to the task at hand?!" Starfire asks, mid battle with the monster when Ladybug and Robin snap back to reality. They join the fight, Chat sticks to the sidelines with a pout. The monster is tough, she only pressed the panic button in fear of the hostages being injured or killed. Even if they were physically healed by the miraculous cure it’s traumatizing.

The battle doesn’t last very long, the monster is extremely susceptible to Robin's ice capsules, and is no match for Kor'i's strength.

Ladybug is relieved when she sees the purified akuma flap away.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" The bluenette was able to use her lucky charm quickly enough, she'd say thank you before giving Tikki food and returning to the tower to finish her shift.

"Well done."

"Thank you, you weren't too bad yourself." Marinette smiles back to the far taller boy.

"Will you be returning to the tower? Should we wait for you?"

"You are the kidding, yes? We are in Paris! I'd like to go the shopping!" Ladybug laughed.

"With what money? My brother's card is rather telling. As is your own."

"I suppose you are correct."

"Don't worry, Starfire, we can go on a shopping day soon." The girl smiled.

"Yes, the little D, would you join us? Raven may join as well, yes, Ladybug? Girls day!"

"I do not qualify as a girl."

"Little D?" Ladybug asks, smiling softly before bursting into laughter. "I need to go help the victim and recharge. I'll see you back at the tower." Ladybug turns to leave but comes face to face with Chat. 

"What are you doing here? We don't need you." He directs his comments to both of the American heroes but mostly towards Robin. Ladybug pinches the bridge of her nose.

"We are members of the Teen Titans, we were asked to come. Now if you'll excuse us-"

"What? Who asked you to come here. My lady and I would never-"

"I did, and I am not 'your lady' you need to stop with the names and trying to distract me mid-battle, Chat.” 

“But-” Ladybug gives the mangy cat no time to explain, cutting in with no patience.

“No ‘but’s, you almost got us and all those hostages killed. Go. Home.” The tro of Titan’s walk away, it’s best not to give the boy anymore attention.

"We should do it now."

"What'd you mean? He's still acting like he can't stand her."

"No, they made up. I heard her yelling at him about it. He caved pretty quickly after that. We do it tonight, no more sneaking around and hopefully they get together." Beast Boy nods, watching Raven ice his ankle for him.

"Thanks, mama."

"... You're welcome." He smiles flicking some water on his girlfriend, she looks at him with a sad excuse for a glare.

"Alright, the ice should stay. Let's go see if she's back." Raven makes sure to keep Beast Boy off his ankle, quickly shooing him off to the empty living room couch. They don’t wait long for Robin, Starfire, and Ladybug to return.

"Thanks again for coming to help, guys." Starfire smiles. Robin nods.

"It was our pleasure, what shall we do now?"

"Movie?" Beast Boy asks, getting immediate yeses from the girls.

"I'll pass-"

"Come on." Raven complains, the guy can be such a pain.

"tt, no. That doesn't work on me."

"Pretty please?" Starfire asks. She pulls out the baby doll eyes and a pout.

"No, the physical appearance of the 'please' makes no difference-"

"Please?" Ladybug pulls out all the stops, she looks him right in the eyes, those big, blue, innocent eyes were so sad and pretty, she shuffles a foot, her hands behind her back. Her bottom lip juts out ever so slightly as her torso sways back and forth. His response is immediate.

"Yes." Ladybug grins in victory, Damian doesn’t get the chance to backpedal.

"Yay!" Starfire quickly steals Robin's usual seat. Raven and Beast Boy take up one side of the couch, Robin and Ladybug take up the other. Everyone bickers and argues over which movie to watch until Robin gets annoyed and plays one of the few movies he can bear. Lion King.

Throughout the duration of the film, Beast Boy slowly pushes Ladybug closer to him laying longways until he takes up the majority of the couch. Ladybug is squished against Robin, their arms pressing uncomfortably against each other. Deciding to test the waters, Robin wraps an arm around the Parisian's shoulder. The lights were off but the girl's blush is obvious. She has yet to move, he feels her glance in the opposite direction for a moment before leaning onto him.

Damian wasn't freaking out... Okay, Damian was only freaking out a little. He didn’t do well last time he saw she likes him. What should he do now? An annoying and sarcastic voice told him not to ignore her but they weren't much help. The little Grayson in Damian's mind told him to pull her a little closer, maybe kiss her head to make his intentions more clear. She still isn't aware of his affection towards her. He does the first, he could all but see the little Grayson smiling. Robin has no clue what to do next so he just does his best to watch the movie.

The lights come on far too soon, Ladybug doesn't move to get off him until she notices the lights turn on. She blushes that adorable shade of pink. That's when he sees it, just behind a blushing bluenette is Raven snuggling with Beast Boy as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. His brows furrow, his arm falls of Ladybugs shoulder. It was clear this isn’t a one time thing or anything of the sort. They know exactly what they’re doing, they’ve been seeing each other and she didn't tell him. After all the times he spoke about Ladybug, she didn't care to mention her own relationship.

Ladybug follows his line of sight, her posture goes from relaxed to tense.

To Marinette it’s like confirmation to something she knew all along, he likes Raven. Maybe he only wrapped his arm around her because of how squished they were. Which means she completely misread the situation and leaned onto him when he was just trying to be comfortable.

"I knew it!" Starfire exclaims, beaming. Raven just looks away trying or hide her small smile. Ladybug is happy their happy but Robin just walks away, his face neutral. She hates when he makes that face. Soon Starfire has to leave and Beast Boy hobbles to his room, ankle still tender.

Ladybug's overthinking keeps her in place, staring at her hands. She doesn’t even notice that Raven is still in the room with her.

"You should go talk to him."

"W-what? Me? No, he doesn't want to talk to me." Ladybug tried to say no but she couldn't help but be worried for Robin. Raven gives her a look, she relents.

"Fine." Ladybug drags herself to where she knows he'll be. He was always on the roof when he has to think. She mentally prepares herself for an undeniable, verbal confirmation that he doesn't like her, she forces herself to go- to be there for him.

"Go away." Damian is in no mood to deal with Raven, how could she not tell him?

"You can't get rid of a bug that easily, Rob." He chastises himself for being rude to Ladybug again, at least she doesn't sound upset because of it. She doesn't say anything, sitting next to him as they look over the brightly lit cityscape.

"Wanna talk about it?" He doesn't respond. The little Grayson, encouraged by the success of last time, tries to get Damian to hold her hand. Their hands were so close, just a few inches apart. That definitely isn't happening. "Right..." She trails off, not knowing what else to say. The silence grows, unchecked like a cancer.

"I- Just- Why wouldn't she tell me? After-" Robin was about to say too much but thankfully stopped himself.

"After what?" He’s relieved she’s still ignorant of his affection, putting himself out there like that’s a scary thought.

"Nothing. Nevermind."

"After you told her you like her." She speaks with such certainty, like she’s accepted it as fact. Is that what she really thought?

"What? No- I just- confided in her about something similar. I expected she'd do the same. She's one of my best friends." He sees Ladybug nod, that same look of  on her face.

"I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt your feelings. They probably just wanted to keep it quiet until they were ready to tell everyone." Robin had to admit she was probably right. He saw the way her hands fiddled and folded, she was trying to think of something to talk about, likely to distract him. She was always so considerate.

"So... girlfriend."

"Where'd you hear that?" He was so confused, the very idea is ridiculous.

"Well, you said you confided in Raven about something similar. I just assumed you had a partner."

"Oh. No." They sat in silence again, looking over the silent harbor. Damian gathers his courage, now is the perfect time- looking over a clear sky with the stars out. Isn't this the kind of situation girls daydream about? Now was the most likely time for her to accept. Deciding to just get it out, Damian starts speaking.

"Actually there's-"

"I know you probably don't-" Of course, just as Robin starts speaking, she does too. Alarm bells start ringing in his head, the little Grayson is trying to figure out what she was going to say while the rest of him starts freaking out.

They awkwardly laugh, looking away, Damian feels an unfamiliar little burning sensation on his cheeks. He’s loosing more of his nerve by the second.

"ILikeYou,LikeLikeLike." She just blurts it out, redder than her costume. Damian's head snaps to her with his lips parted. This is happening.

"I feel the same way. I- I apologize I didn't say so sooner I just- you said you were so busy already, I didn't want to become a distraction." Ladybug gives him a small smile, that was what that was about. She fondly wipes the hair from his forehead back, lacing her fingers through his hair. Her hand rested at the back of his neck, smiling. She looks so content, at peace.

"I see no issue in distractions."

"I suppose this is the part of the story where we kiss?" Robin puts a hand on the Parisian's cheek, inching closer. They move to close the gap until they were just a hairsbreadth away. Her eyes are so blue and so beautiful up-close.

"I suppose you'd be correct." Their lips meet, the beautiful night sky behind them- everything else melting away.