#i've had this floating in my head for a Minute and i was like

[rieamena]

“ UBI AMOR, IBI DOLOR ”

nanami kento .

contains: fluff if you're a real lover, angst if you're normal

word count: 1.6k

riea's comments: yk what's so funny guys, that really takuma work i've been talking about for the past few months or so, wypamn, yeah that one, its scrapped lmaooo lets all laugh. oh, that's not funny? oh, okay. anyways, here's something i wrote for it a while back, i hope you like it and THIS is my comeback work okay? NOT my clover. also, special shoutout to the loves of my lives, @mayyhaps and @chericos. i heart yall

you climbed into your car with a shaky exhale, hands gripping the steering wheel as if it might ground you. the engine roared to life under your touch, and you tapped in satoru’s location on the gps with more force than necessary. the route lit up in bright blue, the estimated time mocking you like it somehow knew this night was going to be an ordeal

seriously—what the hell had gotten into kento? of all the people he could’ve called, invited out, confided in… it had to be satoru? and then on top of that, he drank himself nearly unconscious? kento, who once got drunk enough to reenact one of the scenes from his series in shakespearean english, apparently decided tonight was the night to spiral. and with him of all people

the tires hummed as you sped through dimly lit city streets, traffic lights smearing into streaks of red and green through your windshield. the night air hung heavy, pressing in through the crack in your window as you took sharp turns, your mind racing faster than your car. your jaw clenched with every block. if this was some elaborate setup for satoru to make you watch a 40-minute powerpoint-slash-conspiracy video titled " nanami kento is NOT the man you think he is", you were going to walk on the road and pray a car hits you

your phone pinged with a message just as you pulled into the curb:

satoru (sent 2 mins ago):

we're at bar ten. he's been talking about u for like 30 minutes straight and it's getting EMBARRASSING. pls hurry before he recites poetry

satoru (sent just now):

update: he just called your laugh "unfairly pretty" and now he's talking to a bottle of gin

you turned off the engine, sighing again

bar ten had that kind of music that never committed to a real genre. the bass was soft, almost pretending it wasn't there, and the conversations floated over it like bubbles waiting to pop. you scanned the room and spotted them quickly—suguru sitting in a booth with satoru clinging onto him comfortably, hands running through the others hair. kento was slouched across from them with his head tipped back, glasses discarded on the table before him and eyes fixed on the ceiling like it held the correct answer to every bad decision he'd ever made

you approached slowly. suguru caught sight of you first, raising a brow and gesturing toward the table like, please deal with this

"kento?" you called softly, sliding into the seat next to him. it took a few shakes of his shoulder for him to realize someone else was there—you were there. you've only seen him get this drunk once before: a random night a few years ago. somehow the idea of a drinking competition filled the air and every bottle known to man was scattered across kento's kitchen island. little did he know, you had switched out your alcoholic beverages for water, but he was too dazed to realize. so while he drank and drank, you watched on

big, strong arms (though it seemed a considerable amount of their strength was gone) enveloped your frame, "my wife!"

it was a nickname he hadn't used since you were kids. "i want to be your husband when we're older! and you will be my wife! if you want to, of course…" a five-year-old kento said to you bashfully on a spring day at the park, weeds that he thought were flowers clenched in his outstretched fist. the name kept up for a couple of years but you never knew the reason why he stopped

"my wife is here! oh, how i've missed you." his speech was slurred, a result of downing a few bottles of whiskey, rum, and gin—it's a miracle that he's still conscious. his grip got even tighter on you as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, "ken?... ken? let's go home." feeling his head shift up and down and his soft breaths on your neck, you gathered all of your strength and lifted off the seat, managing to get him all the way to your car and relaxed in the front seat

by the time you pulled into your building's garage, the city had gone still. not quiet, but softer. as if everything outside had agreed to pause, just for a while. kento didn't ask which floor, didn't ask where to put his shoes, didn't hesitate before settling on the couch like it was his apartment

because it basically was. he'd been coming over since the two of you were kids—after school, after breakups, after shitty college nights where neither of you wanted to talk about what went wrong. this place had always been an anchor. and you never questioned letting him in

you poured a glass of water, eyeing him from the kitchen. "suguru's a menace," he slurred, ridding himself of his blazer and tie with a grunt. "and satoru's louder now than he was at sixteen, how is that possible?"

you cracked a smile, setting the glass on the coffee table. "i ask myself that every time i see him."

kento chuckled—a real one. then it twisted into something sadder. "they're good, though. together, i mean. they make sense. like puzzle pieces. even the jagged parts."

you sat beside him, not too close, but close enough to provide comfort—provide something. he seemed to be sobering up a little bit—after all, alcohol never stayed in his system for long. his eyes shut closed, like he was dissociating but he could feel everything: the cool air from the slightly open window, the fabric of his pants and collared shirt uncomfortably brushing against his skin like it wasn't supposed to do that, the flurry of words dedicated to you that might be impossible to string together even if given the chance, words that were accumulated over years of watching, waiting.

"i loved you before i even knew what that meant," he whispered. "i used to count how many times you said my name in a day. like an idiot."

"you remember that one summer," he continued, "when your ac broke and we just laid on the floor with popsicles all day? you were wearing that stupid tank top with the cartoon frogs."

you smiled, aching. "i remember."

"i couldn't even look at you without getting lightheaded."

he paused, "still can't."

he finally opened his eyes. they were glassy but clear enough to look right at you. right through you.

"i tried to date other people. i tried to un-feel it. but it's you. it's always been you."

you reached out, brushed your fingers against his hand. he caught them. he always did.

"i'm drunk," he said, voice cracking, "and this is unfair to you. but if i don't say it now, i never will."

the room fell silent for a while, heavy with the words spoken and those that didn't need to be. you'd thought kento had dozed off, the exhaustion and alcohol mixing,

but then softly—so softly it could've been mistaken for a sigh—he said:

"you looked too good in white."

you glanced down. his head was on your shoulder, but his eyes were open now, staring at nothing. he swallowed thickly, voice lower. "i told myself i could handle it. that it was just a shoot. just a fake wedding. but then you kissed me in that last shot—like it meant something—and i… i lost."

that shoot was for suguru's moonlight wine collection. you and kento were styled in wedding attire, with matching rings, a high-end ballroom, and a script that called for authentic intimacy. you didn't have to dig far, and it seems… neither did he.

kento pulled away slightly to sit up, rubbing his face. someone unfamiliar with him wouldn't have noticed, but you're his best friend, the one he loves. of course you noticed the slight change in his mannerisms, how he trembled, and how his khakis turned color when he stared downwards. and all it took was a comforting rub on his back to break the dam that was kento's bottled up emotions. he choked on his sobs—fighting everything possible to keep it together, to not completely break down.

"i've been in love with you for most of my life," he said hoarsely, tears streaming down his face but he never made an attempt to wipe them away. like it was his sin, his punishment, something he deserved for keeping it in for this long. "and then i had to stand under that damn arbor, with cameras on us, and look at you like you were mine… when you never were."

the memory flashed—your hand in his, his thumb tracing your knuckles between posing directions like it was muscle memory. the way his eyes never left you, even after the photographer called for a break. kento exhaled. "and i know you've got… everything. people who adore you. a world that spins with you at its center. but for one second that day, i let myself pretend."

"and then," he continued, almost laughing now, "the articles dropped. 'the most believable love story of the season,' they said. 'if you told us they were secretly together, we'd believe it.' and i thought, god, if only they knew how much i wished it were true."

kento has never experienced a first love or a first love. all he knows is a first love, and he's lost her.

for i am a fool, bound by the shackles of unrequited love.

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @babysoo-meu

@cheesecake95 @strawberry-cherrypie @makeshiftproject @magiamad0ka @ncitygreen

@oniondrip @cloudy-yyy @definitely-not-leena @kidd3ath @atigerandabear

@russianremy @ohnoitsamistakee18 @ivy-vivii @inoluvrr @1ndee

@yourhornysister @ancientimes @cupcaketeddybehr @tomikixd @e-dollly

@ozdramaqueen @nymphsdomain @beeksyurr @colorcode @baekhyunsbestie

@vorfreudevortex @leuriss @xaithings @corvid007

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[aliferousdreamer]

YAYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU DREW THAT FOR ME?!?!?!?! YOU'RE SO SWEET!!!!!!!!!!!! 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

ALSO:

I CAUGHT YOUR OC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

we should compare ocs some time and let them be friends 🥺👉👈

YES!!!!

[superhoeva]

𝐣. 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭 – 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭; +𝟏𝟖) | worked on this instead of sleeping but it might be one of my favorite things i've ever written. very overwhelmed by this man and how self-destructive i feel like he can be. warning(s) include: language, fluff, angst, smut, very little dialogue, penetrative sex (mentioned, m + f), handjob (mentioned), bodily fluids, jack being back (whatever that means), attending/resident relationship, fwb vibes, also there's fluffy parts, i swear.

The room stinks of sex–of lingering musks and a slowly-dampening heat that serve as memorials to another night spent losing yourself in the surprisingly tender hands of Jack Abbot. A pulse between your legs, also a reminder. The heat there has far from subsided, lingering and still dancing itself through your veins.

You feel nice. The window on the far side of your room is cracked to stop the smoke from your cigarette you’d finished a few minutes ago from persisting for too long. Sounds from the city flutter in just under the floating chords of Nude by Radiohead.

In Rainbows, track three. Jack fucked you, face to face, the night he learned you knew every word of the song by heart. Then hummed the first verse with you while you rode him to his own peak.

Jack sits against your headboard, sheets hanging at his waist to shield his softening cock from the air of the night. His face is the better version of an already faultless story in this low lighting, the edges of his jaw and cheeks promising something dangerous.

You’ve chosen to rest on a pillow instead of Jack’s thigh, but lay halfway on your side to face the man. Makes it easier to stare at him as you fall asleep. He doesn’t let you get far, fingers of one hand coiling with yours as you play with the digits that started the night feeding you the fruit he bought three days ago. The old lady at the berry stand think ‘m cute, and always gives me extra Jack explained after turning up at your place with an extra carton of some of the sweetest tasting produce you’ve ever consumed.

You smile to yourself, thinking. He fed them to you. The scowling, rugged, sarcastic attending had fed his fourth year resident strawberries.

Jack squints at you, ignoring how his own mouth wants to twitch upwards. “What’re you grinning about?”

You shake your head. He accepts your answer with a rolling of his eyes, untangling his fingers from your and running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip before you get a chance to pout at the loss.

He’s been like this a lot recently–softer, warmer. Eyes overcast with… fondness? The hands that used to yank you into him tug at your body, now. Dragging and trailing at your skin like he’s memorizing the map of your body for when you aren’t near. You’ve wholly accepted the change, letting his grip linger and kisses lengthen into something that burns up your insides.

Grabbing his hand, you snuggle it to your face and close your eyes. He watches you with a still stare, waiting until your breaths even to let his eyes shine with silent tears. His mouth quivers as he makes sure to keep his sniffles quiet, rolling his head with a sigh.

He feels good. Too good, and it didn’t take more than three of his weekends off to get there. Hiding it used to be easy, swearing to himself that the reason you make his chest tremble is because of that trick you do with your tongue. Because of how snugly he fits inside you and how cockdrunk you get. Because of how pretty you beg when he makes you stretch your pussy out with your own fingers instead of his.

Those were the reasons he masked himself with. Forcing himself to go blind at how you snore even though you say you don’t, and wouldn’t look him in the eye after seeing the tiny spots of dry drool you left on his shirt despite his promises that it was alright. Ignoring how he ached through the seven days of shifts, doing his best to treat you like he hasn’t been balls deep inside you every weekend for the past year. Stuffing aside how he thinks of you even when you’re not around, how he almost mumbled I love you into your mouth as you jerked him to a lengthy completion across your stomach a month ago.

Jack’s fucked, and he knows it. He knew it when he woke up seven Tuesdays ago and reached out for you. It took him an embarrassing seven seconds to remember he wasn’t in your room, that you weren’t there. It takes him longer to realize how chilly he keeps his place.

That’s another thing about you, you’re always so damn warm. With patients and him, and so is your room.

He’ll miss that. It’ll take him a while to get over it, too. He’ll snap at residents and smile less but he’ll get over you. He has to. Regardless of how many tears he lets fall tonight as he thinks of the look on your face when you wake up not find him not in your kitchen making Saturday morning coffee but gone. Not letting you see him until the following Monday, and making sure to add a little edge to his voice when speaking to you.

No jokes. No touches. No winks from across the room. And no more weekends.

Wiping his face, Jack sucks in a deep breath and dips his head to look at you. A sad smile warps his face at the drool already leaking out onto your pillow.

Too wired to sleep, he spends an hour listening to your snores and studying your face with watery eyes before slipping his hand from your grasp with a sniffle. The man freezes when you shuffle, holding his breath until you nuzzle into the pillow. He finds his clothes after a few seconds of searching, hoping the quiet music still playing from your looped playlist is enough to cover the clinking of his belt and shuffling fabric.

Jack’s halfway out of your room when his body forces him to pause. It’d be so easy to give in. To concede, and peel off the clothes so he could slip back into bed with you. You’re always so tired after he fucks you, all you’d do is whine and tug him closer before returning to your sleep. Hugging him into you even though he always complains about waking up sweaty.

He stands in the doorway of your room for a long two minutes before turning to face you. Tipping to the bed with long strides, Jack swallows.

You wake six hours later. Music stopped, and Jack long gone.

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 3 of Danny the forever teen in the DC universe au, he gets a new hero identity and is introduced to superpowered kids.

[Pt 2 here]

The Titans and Young Justice don't interact as teams very much. Like, they see each other outside of teams fairly often, but it's only as individuals. The teams don't question the sudden combined meeting being called, though. Batman, Red Robin, and Robin were the ones to call it, and after a month of complete radio silence from the Robins, their teams are excited to see them again.

Red Robin cheerfully waves and Robin nods to their teams as they help Batman set up his briefing. It takes a minute, but the Robins flank Batman's sides once everything is ready. It's a detailed presentation of Ecto Entities and a short explanation on what exactly the JL and Bat clan has been working on.

"Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now there is someone I would like you all to meet. He will be floating between your teams when he isn't helping the Justice League Dark and Justice League."

"Wha-? Are we getting a new babysitter??"

"Hn. In a manner of speaking."

"Nah, he's cool. He just needs to hang out with people his physical age that aren't just Bats." Red Robin waves away the babysitter allegation before looking to his left. "Don't you agree?"

A glowing young teen fades into visibility. He has white hair and green freckles dressed in black and white armor with neon green highlights and starry motifs that looks similar to Robin's, just without a cape. The black domino mask he has neon green lenses verses the usual white. "Oh! Um.. I guess so?"

The young heroes excitably shout before Batman cuts them off.

"Silence!" There's a couple mumbled apologizes as Batman waves the newcomer to stand in front of him. "Introduce yourself."

The kid makes a head movement that the Robins use to indicate they're rolling their eyes at you, even if you can't see it, while complying. "Hello, I'm Astrum. I'm the reason you just had to learn about ecto entities, as I am one. I both am and am not 14 years old."

"What do you mean?" Beast Boy asks, "About the age thing."

"Aw, well, there's 3 separate ages I can give." Astrum continues once the confused noises die down, "I'm physically 14, but I've been an ecto entity for 30, so I might count as 30, but chronologically, I'm 44. It's why I can't commit to only working with adults or children, I'm technically both and will need to interact with both to be emotionally healthy in the long run."

"That sounds confusing."

"Welcome to my life. A confusing painful disaster. I might explain more later, but unless you're about to dive into all your deepest traumas right here and now, I ain't explaining shit." Astrum grins at them, his teeth are a little too sharp for comfort.

"Language."

Astrum whips around to gape at Batman. "Langu-?? Seriously, B-man??"

"Don't bother. He still does that to 'Wing and Hood. There's no escape." Red Robin tells him. The poor guy flounders over the news.

"Hn. Meeting adjourned."

"Cool! Come meet the teams, Astrum!" Red Robin drags him towards the teens. He introduces each person with their full government name and hero identity, getting a lot of stuttering.

"Red! Why are you giving him out secret identities??" Wonder girl protests.

"Because he's Phantom! He can be trusted!" Impulse says, and Astrum jolts and starts trembling.

"Please.. please don't say that name.." Astrum looks so much smaller. "I.. there's too much trauma involving it now...."

The teens rush to reassure him they won't call him that again. If only because the Bat Clan members look a little too calculating. No one wants a pissed off Bat being petty towards them.

"Thanks... I have another name you can call me when we're hanging out outside of hero work." The teens perk up at that. "My name is Danny... just Danny."

"No lastname?" Artemis curiously frowns.

"My human lastname is irrelevant, I stopped associating with it after my birth parents vivisected me." That gets a lot of sputtering.

"We should move this to the lounge." Red Robin pipes up.

"Indeed. We plan to introduce Danny to the many movies he missed out on in the last 28 years." Robin adds. "He's more out of date than I was."

"WHAT?"

"I was being hunted. I didn't have the time or money to see movies" Astrum whines, letting himself be bodily dragged to the lounge.

"Be happy I had a PowerPoint of all the slang you needed to know to survive this." Red Robin teases.

And that's how Astrum, previously known as Danny Phantom, starts hanging out with teens and forcibly learning to be a modern teen himself. He doesn't go on many missions with them because he is too overpowered, and it can hurt the other teens' confidence. He hurts the adults who think he's a dumb kid's confidence when he goes on missions with them too, usually it's a daylight JL member. So he doesn't take it personally.

He loves working with the Flashes, Supers, Wonder Woman, and Zatana, but the Bats and John Constantine are his absolute favourites to work with. They understand how he works the best and can roll with the punches if he does something unexpected. He also lives in the Watchtower, the view of space feeding his obsession is excellent on his mental health as well. Everyone slowly adjusts to this semi-feral ghost child being under foot, doing his best to be helpful, and absolutely demolishing any supernatural threat with ease. No one realizes how powerful he actually is because he holds back and doesn't inform anyone he's the Ghost King.

[theonottsbxtch]

A SUNDAY KIND OF LOVE | OP81

an: i think i've hurt you lot for a good hot minute, so here is some fluff of my beloved.

wc: 2.3k

synopsis: sundays were race day, but not all of them were. some of them were time for oscar to enjoy time with his little family.

WHEN OSCAR WOKE THAT MORNING, the other side of the bed was empty. Still warm, but empty. He lingered for a moment, letting the golden morning light seep through the pale curtains and spill across the room. The silence was gentle, save for the distant trill of birdsong outside. Stretching languidly, he felt the stiffness in his muscles ease, the last remnants of sleep melting away.

Then he heard it—the faint strains of music drifting from the kitchen. A smile ghosted across his lips. He already knew the scene that awaited him.

His gaze swept the room as he reached for a pair of sweatpants. In the dim light, his foot caught on a forgotten toy, drawing a soft wince before he chuckled, shaking his head. With an easy grace, he pulled on his grey sweats and made his way to the door, anticipation curling warm in his chest.

"Ma chérie, qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit à propos de la télévision? Papa dort, baisse-la," her voice floated through the apartment, light and teasing. Darling what did I tell you about the tv? Dad is sleeping, turn it down

As he stepped into the living room, the volume dipped, and the first thing he saw was Louanne, cross-legged on the floor, remote in hand, utterly transfixed. Last week’s race flickered across the screen, her tiny fingers pressing buttons with intent curiosity.

Then, his gaze found her.

She moved with quiet elegance, lost in the rhythm of the morning. One of his shirts hung loosely over her frame, sleeves rolled to her elbows, while a pair of his boxers—cinched at the waist with a hairband—became makeshift shorts. She hummed absently to the music as she stirred something in a pan, utterly absorbed in the simple, unhurried art of breakfast. The rich scent of coffee and crisping bacon curled through the air, embracing him in its warmth.

For a moment, he simply watched, leaning against the doorframe, drinking in the quiet perfection of it all.

This was his world. His own little haven.

Pushing off the frame, he crossed the room, his heart full.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice steeped in affection.

She turned, a smile unfolding across her face like the first bloom of spring. "Morning, sleepyhead. Breakfast won’t be long. Did you sleep well?"

"Perfectly," he murmured, stepping closer to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Even better now that I’m here with you two."

Louanne’s delighted voice broke through, her face alight with excitement. "Papa! Did you see Uncle Lan overtake Tonton Charles? Il gagne!"

Oscar chuckled, "I saw, sweetheart. I was there. Maybe we can watch the rest together after breakfast."

He said nothing more as he stepped behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his face into the curve of her neck. Her warmth, her scent—everything about her felt like home.

"The more French you speak to her," he murmured, lips grazing her jaw, "the harder it gets for me to keep up."

She laughed softly, shifting the mixing bowl in her hands as she finished the crepe batter. "You’ll thank me when she’s fluent in two languages."

And in that quiet kitchen, wrapped in the scent of coffee and the sound of their daughter's quiet giggles, Oscar thought—he already did.

As she whisked the batter, Oscar’s eyes drifted to her hands, his brow creasing as he noticed the absence of her wedding ring. A quiet frown settled on his face.

“Where’s your ring?” His voice was gentle, though laced with curiosity. She could be forgetful at times, but she had worn that ring for years—it was as much a part of her as the laughter in her voice.

She barely glanced up, nodding towards the sofa where their daughter lay cocooned in a blanket, mischief written across her small, delicate features.

“Ask that little bandit over there. Daylight robbery.”

A laugh rumbled from Oscar’s chest as he stepped away, crossing the room towards Louanne, who grinned up at him with an impish twinkle in her eyes.

"Alright, little thief," he drawled, crouching beside her. "Where did you hide Maman’s ring?"

Louanne giggled, tucking the remote beneath her chin as if guarding a great secret. "It's a mystery, Papa!"

Oscar hummed, rubbing his chin in mock contemplation. "Then I suppose I’ll have to unleash my world-class detective skills."

Before she could wriggle away, his fingers found her sides, tickling her until she dissolved into breathless laughter. She squirmed and shrieked, limbs flailing, her delighted giggles filling the room.

It didn’t take long for her resolve to crumble.

Gasping between fits of laughter, she shoved at his chest, surrendering with a breathless, "Mister Monsieur has it!"

Oscar pulled back, his grin triumphant as he turned towards the well-loved teddy bear propped against the television. Sure enough, nestled in the front pocket of its little jumpsuit, a familiar golden band gleamed in the soft morning light.

"You can’t keep this, sweetheart," he murmured, retrieving the ring with a gentle shake of his head.

“But she can’t cook with it! She’ll—she’ll…” Louanne paused, brows knitting together in concentration. Oscar knew this look—when words danced just beyond her grasp, flickering between the two languages woven into her life.

“Ruin it!” she finally burst out, proud of herself.

“Well done," Oscar praised, ruffling her hair. "But I promise you, the ring will be just fine."

Louanne didn’t look entirely convinced, but after a thoughtful pause, she nodded solemnly. With the ring safely in hand, Oscar made his way back to the kitchen, where his wife was pouring smooth ribbons of batter onto the hot pan.

“It’s awfully quiet,” he remarked, leaning against the counter. “Where’s the other one?”

“With his uncle,” she replied, laughter in her voice. “He woke me at six this morning.”

Oscar sighed, already sensing where this was going. “Which uncle?”

She hesitated. That was all he needed.

“No," he groaned, closing his eyes. "Don’t say Lando. Please don’t tell me he’s taken him surfing again.”

The sheepish smile on her lips was answer enough.

Instead of offering sympathy, she simply shot him a knowing glance before nudging his shoulder and turning back to the stove. "Now you know how I feel every time you put that one over there in a kart."

Oscar scoffed, hopping onto the counter and reaching for a crispy strip of bacon before she could swat his hand away. "But she wants to!"

“She’s still so young!"

“She could be a world champion!” he countered, ever the dreamer.

“She’s seven, Oscar.”

“I started at seven, and I turned out perfectly fine!”

She arched a brow, unimpressed. “That’s up for debate. Ruben is eleven, and Lando’s been taking him surfing since he was six.”

Oscar pressed a hand to his chest as if wounded. "You cut me deep, my love."

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Just promise me you’ll keep an eye on her. She’s our little daredevil.”

“I promise,” he said softly, reaching for her hand. Carefully, he slid the ring back onto her finger, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “And I’ll make sure Lando returns our Ruben in one piece, too.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she flipped a crepe with effortless ease, catching it with her bare hands before placing it onto the waiting stack.

“We make quite the team, don’t we?” she mused.

“The best,” Oscar agreed, watching her with a fond smile.

For a moment, the world slowed. Etta Jones’ A Sunday Kind of Love curled through the air, rich and smooth, wrapping the kitchen in nostalgia. The two of them moved in tandem—him gathering plates and cutlery, her plating up breakfast—a quiet dance they had performed a hundred times before.

Then, the moment shattered.

The front door swung open, followed by the unmistakable sound of hurried footsteps.

“That board better be on the balcony!” she called, not looking up from the crepes.

A pause. A guilty shuffle. Then the distinct scrape of something heavy being dragged. A thud from the balcony confirmed her suspicions before the footsteps resumed.

A few seconds later, Ruben appeared, sandy-haired and grinning, still slightly damp from the sea.

“Bonjour, Maman,” he greeted, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Salut, Papa," he added, repeating the gesture with Oscar.

Oscar ruffled his hair. "Morning, champ! Ready for your competition?"

“Yup!” Ruben beamed, the ‘p’ popping. “Are we going for lunch before?”

Before Oscar could answer, his wife’s gaze flickered to their son’s hands.

“Va te laver les mains.”

Without complaint, Ruben headed straight for the sink, washing away the remnants of salt and sand while humming a carefree tune.

She placed the last of the breakfast dishes on the counter, taking her usual seat at the far end, leaving the middle seats for the children. Oscar exhaled, glancing around the room—the warmth of the morning light spilling through the window, the quiet clatter of plates, the laughter bubbling just beneath the surface.

Chaos, love, and the promise of a beautiful day.

His world, in its perfect imperfection.

“Maman, my trainer told me to tell you they found one of your old awards. Do you want it?” Ruben announced, hopping onto his seat at the breakfast table. His energy was infectious, filling the morning with a renewed sense of excitement.

Oscar followed close behind, carrying a drowsy Louanne in his arms. He gently settled her into the chair beside her brother before taking his own seat.

“You might as well take it,” Oscar said, reaching for his coffee. “I’ve been saying we need a new cabinet in the other room. I’m running out of space for my helmets.”

She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. “You’d think after forty-seven of them, it’d be enough, no?” she teased, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe we can finally organise that memorabilia corner you keep talking about.”

Ruben’s face lit up. “Can we put some of my trophies there too, Maman? It can be our family wall of fame!”

“Of course, mon cher,” she said, her heart warming at his enthusiasm. “But first, let’s eat. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

“Can I put my karting one there?” Louanne piped up, carefully picking strawberries from her plate with tiny fingers. “The one Papa made for me?”

“Yes, Lou, of course we can,” she replied, sending her daughter a fond smile. “It would look perfect next to Rue’s, wouldn’t it, Oscar?”

Her husband, mid-chew, nodded, swallowing before he spoke. “Absolutely,” he agreed, reaching over to ruffle both children’s hair. “My little high-performance athletes.”

Breakfast continued in the usual lively rhythm of a family morning—the clatter of cutlery, bursts of laughter, and the rich aroma of coffee mingling with freshly cooked crepes. The children ate eagerly, already plotting out their grand display of awards.

“Maman’s should go in the middle,” Ruben suggested, practically bouncing in his seat. “It’s the biggest one! After Papa's World Championship!”

“And mine right next to it!” Louanne chimed in, clapping her hands together. “So everyone can see it!”

Oscar chuckled, reaching for his wife’s hand across the table. “Looks like we’ve got some redecorating to do this weekend,” he said, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.

She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. “Sounds like a plan,” she agreed. “A family project.”

As the children continued chatting excitedly, she and Oscar exchanged a knowing look. Their love wasn’t just in grand gestures or milestones—it was in these small moments. The shared glances, the teasing, the unspoken understanding between them.

“Alright, kiddos,” Oscar announced, standing and stretching. “Time to get ready. Ruben, don’t forget your backpack, and Lou, let’s find your shoes.”

The children scampered off, still brimming with energy. She and Oscar remained behind, clearing the table in quiet companionship. As she rinsed the last plate, she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate, “I love these mornings with you.”

She leaned back into him, closing her eyes for a moment. “Me too,” she whispered. “It’s the little things that make life so special.”

Oscar turned her gently to face him, his eyes filled with that same unwavering adoration. “And it’s these moments that I’ll remember forever,” he said softly before pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

The kiss was sweet, unhurried—a reminder of all the years, the laughter, the life they had built together.

A small voice shattered the quiet.

“Maman! Papa! We’re ready!” Louanne’s call rang from the hallway.

She laughed, squeezing Oscar’s hand before pulling away. “Let’s get out of these pyjamas first,” she said, heading towards their room.

They almost tripped over a stray toy on the way—much like Oscar had earlier—earning a small chuckle from them both. She slipped into her favourite dress, while he threw on his usual jeans and a comfortable shirt. As she brushed her hair, her gaze lingered on the framed photos atop their dresser—snapshots of birthdays, races, quiet Sundays like this one.

Oscar stepped beside her, catching her gaze. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” His voice held the weight of years spent side by side.

She nodded, a fond smile curving her lips. “We really have.” Her expression turned mischievous. “From you giving me attitude at school because you thought you were right about our schedule.”

Oscar groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’d just moved from Australia—cut me some slack. Besides,” he added, grinning as he tugged her closer, “look what it got us.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t protest.

Hand in hand, they made their way back to the living room, where Ruben was attempting to tie Louanne’s laces while balancing both their bags on his back. A small snort escaped her lips at the sight.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said, tossing the car keys to Oscar.

The four of them stepped out into the golden morning light, ready to embrace the day. As she watched Ruben and Louanne skip ahead, hands clasped together, a deep sense of gratitude settled in her chest.

This—this was everything.

Her family, with all their chaos and love, was her greatest treasure. And with Oscar by her side, it was only getting better.

the end.

taglist: @dying-inside-but-its-classy @n0vazsq @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @dozyisdead @number-0-iz @curseofhecate @lilorose25 @iamred-iamyellow @iimplicitt @carlossainzapologist

[echantedtoon]

Dress To Impress

My favorite cookies reacting to their lover in a wedding dress cuz why not? Yandere maybe???

A wedding.

A wedding was supposed to be the most joyous day where love conquers all. Two hearts melt into one another before confessing undying love and joining for eternity for holy matrimony. Or for loved ones to join in to celebrate the couple's special day. Cheering and exchanging smiles. Then the couple would dance the night away. Cutting cake. Drink champagne. Settle down and plan their lives together. 

Unfortunately you never had that experience but you were invited TO a wedding as your very good friend's maid of honor. So that's why you were dragging your lover a long ways from your home to go pick up your bridesmaid dress.

You smiled widely taking big strides dragging your lover by his hand behind you with a purpose. The Creme Republic was a buzz with excitement as you dragged your pretty stand out lover with you causing quite a few glances in the crowd to turn to him much to his uncomfort but he allowed you to drag him along with you to the Grand Mariage in the giant town. Until you reached the gradeous store you were searching for! The building was bigger and more beautiful than you imagined it as you excitedly dragged your lover by the hand into the large double doors.

The bell chiming had a cookie you've never seen before look up from organizing a dress rack in the corner of the store front. Her eyes widening at who you were with but soon switched to a nervous customer service persona. "Welcome, Dear Customers!" She greeted with open arms. "How many I help you this fine day?"

You smile at her. "Is Wedding Cake Cookie here?"

She frowned. "I'm sorry. Ms. Wedding Cake is busy trying to fix some very bad misunderstandings with one of our manufactures. If you're looking for an appointment she's all booked up for the next three years-"

"Oh no. My friend is getting married. Im just here to pick up a dress order."

The cookie immediately lit up. "Well why didn't you say so!? Follow me to the check out and I'll get you fixed up." You both followed her to the check out where you told her your name and watched as she searched the plastic wrapped dresses on the racks behind the register...and looked and looked. Looking confused between the tags on the dresses and a clipboard. "That's strange. We have a confirmation on your order but the dress isn't here." She turned to you. "Apologies Miss. Maybe someone misplaced it in the back. I'll go look. While you're waiting feel free to browse our dress selections." With that she hurriedly ran through a curtain disappearing from view.

Shadow Milk Cookie let out a loud "Uuuuuuuugh!" throwing his head back like a little kid. "Why did I agree to come here? It's so boooooorrriiiiiing!" You frowned at him. "Because YOU wanted to see me try on the dress remember?" "That was before I knew it'd be a waiting line! How do you even lose a single dress!?" "Hey! Don't be rude. C'mon. Let's look around while we're waiting ok? Who knows? maybe you'll find something you'd like me to where for you." That got him humming interested. "Maybe you'll find a fancy dress you can have me wear in a wedding scene during your plays.~" You coo VERY MUCH catching his interest. "Where you so romantically and dramatically barge in shouting I object and stop me from wedding your rival-" "Alright. Alright. You convinced me. Though I doubt there's anything in here that's more impressive than what I can make." He mumbled turning to the nearest rack- "And NO turning any dresses different colors! I don't want to buy anything you mess up!" He grumbles but harmlessly floats to a different rack.

Burning Spice Cookie SNAPS his head to you so fast his neck makes an audible sickening crack sound but it doesn't phase you as you were used to your lover's sudden annoyance. "I thought you said this wouldn't take longer than ten minutes tops! I've got a rebel group back home to hunt down!" You roll your eyes sighing. "Well I could've just come by myself but you said-" "MIX THAT!! It's too dangerous for my concubine to go unchecked!" "-that and followed me here. If you didn't want to 'waste time' then you could've just asked Nutmeg Tiger Cookie to come with me instead. Why don't we just look around until she gets back?" He hums turning to the door and suddenly summoning his axe out of nowhere. "Are you sure I can't just crumble half this pathetic town?" "Absolutely NOT! Now put that away before someone summons the Ancient!!"

Pure Vanilla Cookie watches the cookie go before turning to you in concern. "Oh my. You don't think they lost the dress too on top of their problem do you?" "I hope not. My friend paid a lot for the dress. She'll be devastated if she paid so much for no dress!" He hummed before smiling positively and patting your hand. "Im sure she'll find it. They probably just have it hung in the back. Let's look at the fabrics on display. I bet some of these dresses would look lovely on you." You sigh but nodded. "Sure." You had a feeling that Pure Vanilla Cookie just might go ahead and buy you a dress he likes anyways as a gift he wants you to wear for him. Probably something in white and gold trimming to match his own robes. Couldn't hurt to look around though.

Elder Faerie Cookie hums in concern, his wings twitching as he watches the cookie leave you two. "This does not bode well." "Im sure they'll find it. They probably just misplaced it somewhere in the back." He rubs his chin in thought scrunching his brows. ".. Perhaps it would've been better to hire a tailor back home to make your gown. We have lovely silks and velvets." "That's sweet of you, Dear, but my friend paid for all the bridesmaids' dresses so it's important go with the dress she wants for her wedding." "Yes. You're absolutely right." He turned his head to a nearby display book for customers to flip through custom designs. "Perhaps it'd be wise to gander at their designs? I've heard Wedding Cake Cookie has some of the most beautiful dresses."

Millennial Tree Cookie hums tilting his head as the cookie leaves, his own leaves rustled. "Oh my, my, my. How worrisome. They should take better care of their customers' belongings so they do not lose them." "Im sure it was an accident, Love." You gently grab his arm. "It happens." "Still they should not be so careless. Do not fret, My Flower. We shall get you a beautiful dress to replace the one they lost should they not find it." He assured you and you smile at him. It was sweet little moments like these that reminds you of why you fell in love with him. "Hmhm. Thank you but let's wait until she comes back." "Yes. ..But in case we should look at potential replacement candidates."

As you split up to browse the large shop you slowly migrated away from him gazing at the many, many, MANY beautiful dresses lining the shelves. All kinds and shapes. Slim, plus sized, tall, short, from poofy ball gown Cinderella styles to sleeveless cocktail styles. Lace, no lance, ribbons, bows, glitter, sequins, all the colors of the rainbow, literal diamonds sewn in and real gold trimming- Witches! They really went all out here. You were gandering around passing the time that you didn't even notice another cookie walking towards you. Pulling a dress off the rack and holding it up to admire.

"it's a rather lovely dress isn't it?" You turn at the female voice finding a very beautiful cookie standing there. Pink hair covering one eye and dough a soft buttercup yellow. She was wearing a rather lovely dress as she smiled at you. "Are you looking to purchase your dream dress?"

You blinked. "Oh. No I was just looking at it." You quickly put the dress back. "Im waiting for my bridesmaids dress. My friend asked me to be her maid of honor for her wedding!"

The cookie gushed. "Oh how wonderful! You've come to the right place then! We supply suits, gowns, and neutral outfits for all members of a ceremony not just dresses although that is my most popular item! My clerk told me about your struggle." She gave an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry for getting in the way of your friend's big day, but I've had such terrible luck lately."

Oh...Wait. So was THIS the famous Wedding Cake Cookie?? She was so lovely! "Oh. Bad day?"

"Tell me about it. First some of our fabric got shipped to the wrong place thanks to a new mailman, and then your dress is misplaced and now even my model quit!"

"Yes. But I see you selected one of our more newer dresses. Would you like to try it on while you wait?"

"Well..." you glanced back to the dress you were staring at. It was rather pretty. "Sure. Why not?"

She smiled. "Oh it'll be so much fun! I already have the hairdresser and makeup artist ready for the old model! You'd be professionally dressed up like a real bride in no time at all!"

"Sounds like fun!"

Your head turned to your lover whom seemed interested in and poking around the real jewels studded on some of the fabrics. Well..it'd only be a few minutes right? He wouldn't notice you gone for that long surely. Well after a moment he DID notice your absence because of course he did being your (overly protective-) concerned spouse. As soon as he couldn't find you anywhere in the large front with him, a feeling of concern washes over him instantly. Where did you go? WHEREDIDYOUGO?! He immediately stops what he's doing and looks around for you not panicking (yet-) assuming perhaps you've wondered off to the suits section maybe when he catches a strange sight before him.

"Do I really need the garter belt?"

"But of course! It goes with the entire ensemble! Even if the customers won't see it in the picture, you should wear it as part of the whole piece."

You shrug lifting the bottom of the fairytale dress to lift your leg and help her put it on but pause as you both notice the guy looming in the doorway. "Oh...Hi, Honey. How do I look?"

SHADOW MILK COOKIE:

He stands there with his arms full of dresses he wanted you to try on for him but he stopped as soon as he sees you perfectly dressed up and looking like a doll. HIS doll. "Oh, Cupcake.~ " He coos the dresses dropping to the floor to the horror of assistants rushing to pick them up before they get dirty. "My little gumdrop. Sugar cube. Pookie bear.~" You're raising a brow as he just curled up next to you making a rather lovey dovey tone. "Did you really bring me all the way here just to show off?~ You didn't have to go through all the trouble for little old me.~ Why didn't you just say so?" You blinked from under your eye shadow and mascara. "Huh? What are talking about- Wair. Why are you suddenly wearing a tuxedo?"

Yes. He just assumes you decided to deceive him into marriage and dressed up for him. ..You chose to let him believe that since he seems genuinely excited for this- And you didn't get the chance to explain before he was already poofing himself into a blue tux and waggling his brows at you. The only problem now is explaining to your family how you became a bridesmaid and bride in one day.

BURNING SPICE COOKIE:

He says nothing, just blankly staring at you in the dress, hair all done up and make up. All in fun you let go of the hem of your dress and twirl once. "Isn't it beautiful? Wedding Cake Cookie was nice enough to let me-" "Ab. So. Lutely. NOT!" Everyone jumps at his suddenly disgusted look as he stares down harshly at the dress you wore. A hand reaching out to grab the pretty fabric, his face scowls further is disgusts. "Burning Spice, what are you talking about-" "No concubine of mine is going to be wearing such a bland sentimental color!" He spat as if the fabrics personally offended him. "If you must wear something then wear something suiting of standing by my side! Red..YES!! BRING ME SOMETHING IN RED SILKS LIKE THE BURNING OF MY AXE!!" He declares to Wedding Cake Cookie. "And gold! Like the scorching color of the desert sands! Hmmm..." His hand lightly lifts up the see through veil covering your face and drapping down your back. "....This is fine. It can stay." "My, my. Your partner surely knows what he wants. If I might make a suggestion of adding the gold accents to the end of the sleeves." "YES!! Bring me real gold. My concubines don't wear artificial trash!!"

Somehow you ended up leaving the shop with your order and held proudly on his arm like a desert princess. Now he wants to come back again to get you more silk outfits matching his own aesthetics.

ELDER FAERIE COOKIE:

He stopped where he was. Eyes wide open and taking in your stunning beauty as you smile at him. "Isn't it beautiful? I saw it and couldn't wait to try it on." He can't help the smile that pulls his lips up and he nods in agreement. "Yes. My darling, you look absolutely stunning in that dress." You couldn't help but giggle when he kissed your hand and stared in awe at your beauty. "Why not try on a few more things? Surely there must be other gowns you like."

Despite your insistence he ends up buying that ensemble and a few other dresses you liked despite your protests. He's been meaning to propose to you for a while now, and you would be needing a dress in the future.

PURE VANILLA COOKIE:

He's absolutely speechless, going a deep cherry red as you pulled up the red to expose your leg- He averts his eyes blushing hard in embarrassment as Wedding Cake Cookie helps you finish putting on the outfit. Why were you wearing a wedding dress?! ..No scratch that. Why were you wearing a wedding dress AND all dolled up?! Was this planned?! Were you trying to send a clear message to him?! Did you trick him into coming here just to make him see him?! You were STUNNING- Perfect! "Honey? Are you alright there? You look redder than the stripes on a candy cane." He nods still looking away blushing. "T-This is all so sudden. I-I don't know what to say. I haven't even proposed or made a guest list- Where would we even have the ceremony?!"

Baby boy is so disappointed when you explain to him that you weren't actually wanting to get married and just trying on the dress. He looks so upset though that you both agree to getting engaged when you get back which makes him happy again. (He's too sweet for his own good-)

MILLENNIAL TREE COOKIE:

He's stunned speechless. Standing there and taking in the vision of beauty before him. "Oh my. Dearest, you look radiant as usual." You smiled but notice how he looks at the fabric with a tilt of his head. "Is something wrong?" "Oh. Nothing's wrong with the dress. It's absolutely gorgeous on you." "But?" "But if we're to be married, I thought perhaps we could've done so with something with nature. Perhaps even something with roses?" You smiled at him. "We can plan around that."

He really wants one of those fairytale weddings in a giant flower garden and you're happy to help him with that even if he bought at least fifty different fabric samples from Wedding Cake Cookie with different rose and floral print.

[suugarbabe]

poly!slytherin boys x gn!reader; animagus!slytherin boys; ignoring the canon that once turning back from an animagus form that the person is naked because i want to :)

an: i know it's newer territory for this fandom (at least from what i've seen) so i hope you all love it

this is another addition to the yap sessions with my hubby @musingsofahufflepuff <33

“Merlin’s beard!” you swerved your hips to the side, nearly missing being taken out by a large German Shepherd. You made your way over to the sofa to cuddle up next to Enzo. He happily wrapped an arm around your shoulder and tucked you into his side. You watched as the German Shepherd chased a large grey and fluffy cat around the living room. “How long have they been at this?” You sunk further into the sofa, and thus further into Enzo’s chest as he let out a low laugh, “About twenty five minutes; not even sure what Nott did to make Matty chase him like this, but it’s been entertaining for sure.” 

Theo was always quick witted, and that skill definitely relayed to his animagus form as he quickly dodged Mattheo’s quick snap for his tail, zipping past in a blip of grey fur. “Matty’s getting a little quicker,” you smiled, Enzo nodded in agreement, “but don’t tell him I said that.” Enzo lifted both hands in surrender, “Oh I would never, darling.” 

As if Theo heard exactly what the two of you were saying, he took a different approach to avoiding Mattheo’s grasps. Theo took advantage of his smaller form, jumping from the floor to a chaise and finally up on a floating bookshelf. Poor Matty had too much momentum, not able to stop himself once he was in full motion and thus slamming head first into the wall beneath the shelf. You and Enzo winced in pain for him as Matty’s paws covered his snout while he whined. 

In the next moment Matty was no longer a German Shepherd but fully fledged himself, rolling from his back to his side and groaning, “Fucking hell, Theo. You’re such a fucking asshole.” You pushed up from the couch then, cooing out as you approached the scene, “Oh, my poor sweet boy.” Matty’s lower lip jutted as he sat up and leaned against the wall. You stretched out your arms and Matty mirrored you before his mouth fell open. You bypassed Mattheo completely, reaching up instead to grab Theo from the shelf. 

You wrapped your arms around Theo as he nuzzled further in to your hold, purring softly. Matty looked over toward Enzo, pout growing deeper, “Are you seeing this, babe?” Enzo put on a mock pout, opening his arms for Mattheo. The curly haired boy took the bait, pushing up from the floor and plopping down on the couch to let his boyfriend soothe his mental wounds. “They’re so mean to me, Enzie,” Mattheo mumbled into his chest. Enzo ran his hands through Mattheo’s curls, “I know, baby. So mean.” 

You scoffed, “You two are the most dramatic men I’ve ever met.” You sat down on the arm of the sofa, still holding Theo. Mattheo sat up at the accusation, “How dare you say that when you’re holding him.” He pointed at Theo lounging comfortably in your arms. Theo lazily turned his head towards Mattheo, meowing loudly. Mattheo threw a finger in the air, sticking out his tongue. Theo hissed back at Mattheo before you stood up, mumbling something about going in to the bedroom for a cuddle.

[r3ynah]

To be with you three

The justice league was in critical condition, a unknown entity had breached the universe's protection, and was now creating havoc everywhere.

He called himself, Skulker. he already had captured half of the justice league. and was only interested in fighting Red hood. Something about being a Halfa or something.

Red hood was not having fun, nor was Batman. Everything was in shambles. Even the most powerful cannot defeat the floating entity. the JLD was trying the best they could but to no avail they couldn't contain it, The entity aimed his weapon at Red hood and took fire.

When all hope seemed lost, Vines sprouted up the ground and saved Red hood in the last minute. The other vines also grabbed the other heroes and made a protective barrier between the entity and the JL.

confused the heroes looked at the rogue who was floating, his expression was now with fear and nervousness, he frantically looked at his surrounding seemingly expecting something.

"Are you all alright?" A voice asked, making all heads turn towards to a woman that looked like she's in early adulthood, with long black hair cascading down to hair waists, she looked like someone that can fit into Gotham's aesthetic with her thick eyeliner and her gothic style and a couple of vines that wrapped around her body.

"Who are you?" Batman asked his guard not wavering a single bit.

"My name is Foliahàrà, And we're here to take care of that Ghost." Sam pointed towards Skulker who was looking at her nervously.

"We're?" Superman asked

"Me and my partners. speaking of them here they are right now." Sam said in a tone that no one could specify if she's bored or it's just her personality.

A loud bang shook the city, when they looked back were the entity named Skulker was now gone, In his place was a man? woman? with white hair and green eyes, he had a cloak that shrieks royalty and a black pointy crown floating above their head, Skulker was now on the ground, a crater was formed below him, he was down. he was down. and all it took was a punch from the person

Another man came to the scene he was holding a thermos of some sort. he looked normal, normal clothes and all to the very least if you ignored all the gadgets and sand that followed him, he walked up to Skulker who was most likely knocked out, he opened the thermos and it turned the entity into a liquid before trapping it inside.

"Well that's taken care of." Foliahàrà said, as she retracted her vines that was protecting everyone, she froze then turned her surprised gaze towards Red Hood and eyed him making him uncomfortable, she floated to his direction making the man take a step back, Batman tried to hit her with his batarang keyword:tried, it just went through her.

for the first time she arrived she smiled at hood then with the outmost gentle voice she said. "you're a baby ghost." She cooed as she placed both of her hands at the side of Red hood's head, which he stared at her confused more confused when the pits became quiet all the sudden.

"I've got to tell Phantom and Codelith." she stated and took flight with the crime lord in her arms, she carried him towards her partners in the sky like a newborn baby, protests from the heroes below was ignored by Sam, as she continued to fly up, when superman tried to get her, she shot out a few of her vines that successfully trapped the hero, he tried to escape but her vines was stronger, and why was this power making him weak? like it doesn't hurt but it makes him really tired .

Red hood stayed quiet, trying to comprehend what happened did he get kidnapped or something? holy shit he did get kidnapped.

"Phantom, Codelith! I got a baby!" Sam stated as she finally catched up to them.

"Holy shit, Foliahàrà you can't just kidnap someone else's child" The one with glasses exclaimed with panicked hands, as he teleported near them.

"Cool new kid, More members for our cult" Phantom said as he floated towards red hood who still held onto the Photalis, because when i tell you he was afraid to fall 30 meters from the ground is an understatement.

[westsidepetrichor]

minute by minute

pairing: cassian andor x reader synopsis: cassian comes back early and shows you how much he missed you<3 warnings: smut. minors dni. cunnilingus (reader receiving, reader has a vagina), kinda sorta switchy cass??, fluff, uhhh i think that's it?? a/n: hi!! i haven't written in a while, but now that i've graduated college, i've had some free time and decided to return to my roots lolol. can we take a moment for the gif?? yeah that’s what he’d look like on his knees for you hUH who said that🤨🤨??? please note that i have not seen rogue one yet!! my first watch will be after andor ends and yes, i'm terrified<3 apologies if this is a bit ooc. enjoy!! :D

cassian andor knows how to use his time. he can be both patient and impatient, especially when it comes to you.

sometimes, he can be slow.

you were in the hangar talking to a friend. they spot cassian approaching up behind you. he puts a finger up to his lips as a signal not to alert you. catching his drift, your friend makes a shoddy excuse about a blown fuse that needs attention and they leave with a odd smile on their face.

you wonder what the reason is when you suddenly feel a hand snake dangerously low around your waist and another over your eyes. he leans in close to your ear.

"guess who?" he says. you can hear the smirk in his voice and giggle.

moving his hands, you turn to look at him. thankfully, he's returned in one piece. you'll never get used to the way he looks at you. his gorgeous brown eyes seem to see you so deeply it makes your stomach flip.

"you're back early!" you smile. "how'd it go?"

he shrugs, smiling. "oh you know, same old, same old."

"ohhh, right. of course. just doing your usual charming, dashing things," you tease. "i missed you, you know. always do."

your hands trail down the front of his jacket as you tell him this. his breath hitches ever so slightly and he clutches your waist tighter.

"awww, i'm sorry, my love," he coos. you frown playfully, smacking his arm. "i'll make it up to you."

the tone he takes on hints at what his plan might be. and he knows that you know, that's what makes this little game of yours fun.

"oh? and how do you plan on doing that?" you ask challengingly.

the stubble on his jaw tickles your cheek as he whispers something so obscene, your knees almost buckle. when he pulls away, he tilts his head at you appraisingly.

"how does that sound?" he asks cheekily. you roll your eyes and kiss him deeply, surprising him. you have your own ploys, something cassian never tires of. the two of you try to hide your smiles as you walk briskly to your shared room.

once the door is shut, cassian presses you against it and kisses you slowly. deeply. your hands find themselves in his hair, tugging ever so slightly. he groans. you smile into the kiss. that smile turns into a gasp as he slots one of his legs between your thighs.

involuntarily, you buck your hips downward to seek a bit of relief. this only makes cassian chuckle as he pulls away, moving his leg in the process. the action makes you whine, but he cuts you off.

"sit on the edge of the bed," he orders.

you can't get to the bed fast enough, plopping yourself down and spreading your legs.

"someone's excited, hmm?" he teases.

you feel your cheeks flare up and your legs close a little in embarrassment. cassian places a hand on your thigh reassuringly, gently spreading them open again.

"you know i love it." he places a soft kiss to your cheek and sinks to his knees.

it's a sight that never fails to make you soaked. he looks up at you with such reverence that you feel like you're floating. he removes your boots and tosses them behind him, a loud thump echoing as they land.

"oh i'm the excited one?" you manage to choke out. you feel his nose brush up against your clothed clit. he looks up at you with a glint in his eye.

"it can go both ways..." he murmurs. "hips up."

cassian helps you remove your bottoms, but is especially slow removing your underwear. it's a dark emerald green, a favorite color of his. a glob of your wetness clings to the fabric as he peels it off you.

now bare, he takes a moment to admire you. the slight shakiness of breath, eyes blown in lust. he begins to press kisses to the insides of your thighs, almost purring as he nips them playfully.

you gasp. “c-cass! please… didn’t you want to apologize? this- ah- doesn’t feel like an apology…”

cassian doesn’t look up at you, opting to respond with his head still low.

“mmm, i don’t know…” he murmurs, licking a broad stripe up your cunt. “taking my time to admire you…”

he presses a long, slow kiss to your clit.

“make you feel sexy, wanted… i know that's really what you crave. that seems like a better apology than most.”

he continues his ministrations, practically making out with your pussy. your hands fist the sheets.

“oh my g-god! cass, shit shit shit-” you moan. “i wanna cum, please! missed you so bad and i- ngh!”

cassian shushes you gently, adding a thumb to circle your clit.

“shh shhh, i'm here. i’ve got you. it’s alright,” he soothes. “i’ll make you feel good. just lie back and let me take care of you.”

and that he is. it’s downright filthy at this point. wet kisses and laps fill the room, cassian’s chin gleaming with your essence. his head feels hazy, drunk on your taste. he could spend hours down here if you let him.

your finds find his hair again, yanking hard. cassian gasps against you.

"i'm close! so fucking close, cass, cmon!" you whine, grinding onto his face. cassian chuckles, the vibrations below making you writhe more. you can't see it, but cassian smiles.

knowing that he's the only one that can break you down bit by bit, minute by minute, drives him insane. he, of all people, know how to play the long game. but long games all have their end, and you were nearing yours.

"mmm, you close?" cassian teases. a fervent nod escapes you, feeling your muscles tighten in anticipation. in a matter of seconds, you feel yourself unravel. your body shakes, a cry escapes your lips. for a moment, you feel like you've blacked out, overwhelmed by the pleasure. cassian continues lavishing you in licks and kisses, helping you ride the wave.

once you come down, you wince a little at the overstimulation. cassian kisses you softly, panting slowly. his long lashes brush against your cheek as he plants soft kisses across your face.

"that's one hell of an apology," you chuckle. he smiles, nuzzling his nose against yours.

"told you i'd make it up to you."

end note: sorry if the ending was ass lmfao

[kingkat12]

the same rain (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, fingering, semi-public sex(??), angst, smoking, foul language, Roman needs to get his act together omg

summary: after your date with Roman, you find yourself in a sea of questions-- will you drown or will you float?

word count: 8,347 (sorry not sorry)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

Long ago, back in middle school, I picked up a sentence from a book that etched itself into my mind; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

Every minute of every day felt like I was drowning. Thoughts of Roman were continuously holding my head underwater, making it hard to breathe or function properly. Flashbacks to how his hands gripped my hips, the way it felt to have his lips move against mine with unmatched hunger, and his dizzyingly beautiful smile threatened to suffocate everything I was— had I been consumed?

Returning to school was hard, following my date with Roman this weekend. I could barely walk beside Letha without feeling like I was about to faint from the guilt, and I had to get away, just for a moment. So, I ended up in the library, bringing the book I had borrowed a few days ago. I closed my eyes as I leaned against a shelf in a desolate area, enjoying the peace and quiet. Here, Letha wasn't suspicious of me. Here, there were no prying eyes around, ready to bust me as the worst friend in the world.

However, Roman was here. I could sense that it was him before I had even opened my eyes because I could smell the specific cinnamon cigarettes he smoked. It didn't take long for my heart to start drumming in my chest, and I eventually dared to pry my eyes open.

Roman was standing a few steps away from me, holding out an open book in front of him as though he wasn't here to see me at all. It gave me the time to scan him once more; the way his hair hung over his eyes in soft waves, the way his hands were practically the same size as the book, and how he chewed on his lower lip as though he was deep in thought. When he realized that he had my attention, he slowly moved his gaze from the book and to me, his pupils immediately dilating no matter whether he wanted them to or not. However, in pure Roman fashion, he couldn't suppress his growing smirk; "Don't mind me," he said. "Just reading."

"I see..." I held back a giggle; "What are you reading?"

Roman turned the book with a swift flick of his wrist, as though I wouldn't be able to see him do it if he was quick enough. "Uh... It looks like I've picked up Pride and Prejudice,"

It was too late to suppress the snort that escaped me-- I immediately covered my mouth with my hand, watching as Roman's eyes widened, holding back a laugh as well. "Definitely the book for you," I said, trying to recover. "Just perfect. Liking it so far?"

The tension between us was palpable, especially since we weren't addressing what had happened this weekend. It was almost as though I could feel it wrap around me, clawing at my heart-- why was I so happy to see him, and why was it so damn hard to breathe?

All the air I was fighting to keep in my lungs seeped out the second I heard Roman's gorgeous laugh again, watching him smile the most genuine smile I had ever seen splayed out across his lips. "Nope," he said, putting the book away. "This looks like complete and utter shit."

I couldn't help but gasp; "You insult me. That book is a classic!"

"Yeah? Classic case of the snores,"

Groaning, I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him, hoping to suppress my smirk. "What are you doing here, Roman? Don't you have class?"

Roman shrugged, moving closer to me. I watched him lean against the shelf next to me through my peripheral view, holding my breath-- why was this such a thrill? "You're right," he said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he scanned me in a rather obnoxious manner. "I just didn't feel like going. And then I saw you coming in here, so I just wanted to say hi."

I swallowed hard; he wanted to say hi? Roman wanted to... talk to me? Something about that concept was mind-boggling. This definitely wouldn't have happened a week ago. "You didn't call, y'know?" I said, daring to face him. 

"Call?" Roman's brows drew together, his green eyes shimmering as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You wanted me to call?"

"Well..." I immediately wanted to take it back-- why had I said that? Stupid! "I don't know, Roman, isn't that what guys usually do after... whatever it was that we did?"

He blinked a few times, biting down on his lips with a puzzled expression on his face. "Did what?"

Something about the way he was batting his lashes at me made me realize he was taking the piss, as always. I groaned, rolling my eyes as I stepped away from the shelf, turning my back to him as I walked to the one opposite us. There was no way in hell I'd adhere to his preferred outcome of this conversation, no way in hell I'd spell it out. "Nothing, Roman. Forget it,"

"Come on!" he said, stepping towards me with a chuckle. "Play along, will you? Just messing around." Roman's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling my back flush against him as he guided my hair to the side, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my neck. 

My brain nearly shut down at the feeling of his lips against my skin, but I knew I had to fight it. How would it look if I closed my eyes and let him do whatever he wanted to me right now? In public, again? I let out a squeak, the physical contact feeling like an active elective shock, and I pushed him away as he laughed. 

"You can't do that!" I huffed, trying to keep my voice low as I scoped out the area around us, making sure no one saw. As discreetly as I could, my eyes darted down for less than a second, checking whether he was hard again-- I couldn't shake the memory of how he'd gotten aroused after seeing me scared out of my mind this weekend. But I could let out a relieved sigh when I saw that he wasn't, and my cheeks flushed red with the realization that he had just kissed me. 

"Fine, alright!" Roman put his hands in the air, taking a step back as he continued to laugh. "So you wanted me to call, is that it?"

Shrugging, I did my best to hide the redness of my face by looking down at the floor. It was rather embarrassing that he knew that I wanted him to contact me-- I hoped he didn't think I was desperate, or something. "I didn't," I mumbled. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You didn't?"

"Nope,"

"Okay... Is this the sort of situation where you wanted me to want to call you?" Roman took a big breath, holding back another laugh. "You girls and your ways... If you wanted to fuck, you could've called me first, y'know?"

That was definitely not what I wanted. Not yet, at least. My eyes rounded out with the realization that Roman's motives were clearly not as gallant and pure as I had made them out to be in my head. "Go away," I mumbled, trying not to look too disappointed. "You know what I feel for you, and I don't need you to rub it in my face. Go to class."

Roman rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. In my attempt to avoid him, I felt my back hit the shelf behind me, and I looked up at him with big, worried eyes as he cornered me. He pressed himself further up against me as he put his hand next to my head. "I'm not making fun of you. I'm dead serious,"

It felt as though my heart was thudding against his chest, trying to beat him away. "Dead serious about what?"

Roman shrugged, flashing his teeth in a rather sinister-looking smile before leaning down to whisper in my ear; "Call me if you want to,"

"Want to...?"

"To fuck," Roman pressed a kiss right next to my ear, which had my breath hitching. My hand flew up to his chest, ready to push him off of me, but it was as though my body refused to comply with my wishes.

"That's not--" I had to clear my throat before continuing, realizing my brain was threatening to shut down and become another one of his mindless girls. "That's not exactly what I had in mind..."

Roman pulled away from my cheek, nudging his nose against mine. "Tell me, then,"

Why was it so hard to keep a straight thought around this man? "Just... I don't know, is that all you want from me? Sex?" I had to swallow rather hard, letting out a shaky breath against him. Everything about this made my heart drop. 

"Well..." Roman paused, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "What more would you want from me?"

Looking up at him, meeting his green eyes, was too dangerous. I had to look away and try to discard the fluttering of my stomach at every single touch from him. It quickly became obvious that Roman probably didn't know how to handle anything deeper than just casual sex. Everything about it made me sigh; "Roman, I think you know very well what I want from you... And I think it's time for you to find out whether you want the same. Because if not, I need you to leave me alone," 

I put my hand on his chest, making way for me to leave. There wasn't much time to stare at the beautifully stunned expression on his face, wondering what on earth he had done wrong. 

All I knew was that we either did this my way or no way. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I had successfully made it to the next day, eyes a little puffier than before. My heart was practically in pieces after yesterday's conversation with Roman, wondering whether or not he would ever be interested in me the same way I was about him. After everything we had done together, I still hadn't gotten any confirmation from him that he reciprocated-- it made my whole body ache with a numbness I hadn't felt before. 

I was getting a little conscious about my puffy eyes, so I decided to put on the pair of sunglasses I had in my bag despite being inside the cafeteria.

Letha watched me, unable to hold back her giggles; "You look ridiculous. Take them off, please?"

"Stop it," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched her finish her lunch. "I think I just had an allergic reaction to something." Lying to Letha again, even if it was something as small as this, made me feel more like a piece of shit than before. 

Everything about this situation made me feel horrible. I had put my friendship with Letha on the line, and for what? Some guy that didn't see me as anything more than a sex object? 

It seemed that I wasn't the best liar; Letha moved to the edge of her seat, scanning me with a worried look on her face; "Are you okay?" she tried, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "Maybe you're still sick from the weekend... Should I drive you home?"

This was killing me-- absolutely killing me. How was it possible for someone to be so sweet? "No, I'm fine! I promise," The kind look in Letha's green eyes was starting to feel like a drill into my skull, and I didn't know how long I could last with sneaking behind her back concerning my feelings for Roman. 

Eventually, Letha made peace with my glasses and odd behaviour, but I still couldn't shake the slight tremble in my legs; I was getting close to confessing, my guilt rising to the brink of my capacity. 

Even worse, was that the tremble didn't get any better later that day when I met Roman in an unusually empty stairway. Everything about it made me want to groan and evaporate-- just my luck. 

There were barely any people who used this part of the school, which was why I often took this way up to the second floor. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who had taken use of the desolate space; I watched as Roman sat on the banister further up, handing a guy a few dollars in exchange for some cigarettes. 

When Roman finally spotted me, I was sure I looked like the world's biggest idiot. It dawned on me that I was staring at him, completely frozen at the sight of his beauty, and I cleared my throat when I finally managed to look away. With shaky steps, I began to make my way up the stairs, hoping he'd let me walk by without making any jokes or mocking comments. Ideally, we wouldn't talk at all. But as I tried to pass him, Roman's hand easily reached out for my wrist, his fingers wrapping around my skin with the gentlest touch.

My breath hitched-- I turned to meet his green, green eyes, noticing that the dealer was gone. The only thing left was him, me, and the pack of cigarettes he had just bought. My eyes darted down to my arm, observing how big his hands were against my skin. 

"Did I say something wrong?" Roman eventually asked, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes.

I shrugged, stunned that he was asking that question in the first place. "Why does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't," he said, not missing a beat. Despite his refusal to admit anything, Roman drew his other hand forth to trace circles in the palm of my hand, retracting back into his shell.

My eyes followed his movement, inhaling a shaky breath. What was he doing? Was I really putting my friendship on the line for this? "Roman, I can't be seen with you here--"

"There's no one here," Roman rolled his eyes, clearly not here to fight with me. His grip around my wrist tightened, almost as though he was afraid I'd leave again. "I'm not a fucking idiot, I wouldn't be doing this if I knew someone was watching. What's made you so paranoid?--" His trail of words stopped, eyes rounding out with some sort of realization. " You know what? I have an idea." Roman reached into his pocket, fishing out something silver, something sharp that practically shone beneath the bright lights of the school--

I let out a high-pitched scream, jumping away from him in all-taking panic. "No, no!--"

"Calm down!" Roman barked, holding out the needle over the hollow of the stairwell before dropping it down to the first floor. There wasn't much noise as it hit the ground, other than a high-pitched ringing that lasted for a few seconds.

I realized that I was practically hugging my body, ready to shield myself from any incoming needle attacks, and slowly unwinded my arms from around myself. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I watched Roman's hardening gaze meet mine. "Told you," he said, voice low. "Never wanted to, never planned to."

My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his anymore. "Okay," By instinct, I reached for the sleeve of my sweater, ripping at it with my nails to keep my nerves in check. I hadn't expected to see him today, especially not here and now-- had he noticed my puffy eyes?

Roman sighed, reaching forward to guide me back towards him. "Stop that," he mumbled, grabbing my hands, keeping them separate. "You do that all the time, do you know that?" He nodded towards my sweater, squeezing my hands. 

I wondered if it had dawned on him that we were practically holding hands now. If he realized that he was being sweet with me, that he was acting as though he cared. Would it scare him if he knew? I couldn't be sure. All I could be sure of was that this was hurting me either way. With a sigh, I spoke up; "What are you doing?"

Roman's green eyes darted down to our hands, unable to meet my gaze. "I... don't know," 

"Of course you don't," Slowly, I pried my hands away from his, feeling my heart sink into my shoes. 

Watching me retreat, Roman opened his mouth to protest; he was ready to speak, but nothing came out. He stared at me with blank eyes for a few seconds, almost as though he had short-circuited. 

The air around us started to feel thicker, the tension growing without its needed release-- all until he finally said something; "Look, I don't know why, but you being mad at me is just really inconvenient right now, so... How do I make it up to you?"

It felt as if the air had gotten knocked out of me, and I stared at him in disbelief at his words; "... Inconvenient?"

"Yeah," Roman rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath. It was clear that he didn't know how to properly articulate what he was feeling, and that made everything furthermore frustrating. "I know that you said I have to figure out my feelings for you or whatnot, but I don't think I have any. So, for Letha's sake, I think we should make a truce or something."

"For... Letha's sake?" I had to suppress a laugh-- this was insane. "Since when have you cared about Letha's feelings? Was that before or after you blackmailed me into meeting you everywhere, and then kissed me?"

Not a beat passed before Roman raised his voice in protest; "You said I could! You said 'you can kiss me now if you want to', so I did!"

How was it possible for someone to be so confusing? I balled my fists in an attempt to control my exasperation; "Well, why the fuck did you then?! You say you have no feelings for me, and then you kiss me?--"

"Because I wanted to!" Roman yelled back, gripping the banister with a force that turned his knuckles white. "I've wanted to kiss you again ever since that time we played seven minutes in heaven, so excuse me for taking the opportunity!" 

It was immediately clear that he regretted saying that out loud-- his green eyes widened, his plush, pink lips parting in mortification.

However, Roman wasn't the only one that was caught off guard. I was quite sure that my heart had stopped, the ringing in my ears mixing in with the echo of his voice lingering in the empty stairwell. Realizing I had been holding my breath, the rest of it came out in a shaky exhale, my body stiffening with complete and utter shock. "Roman, I--"

"Please don't," His words came out barely more audible than a whisper as he hurried to get off the banister. "Forget I said that. I haven't had my nicotine this morning--"

"Roman!--"

"I don't usually deal with virgins, anyways," Roman mumbled, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he refused to meet my gaze. "Too much work. And you're kind of hard-maintenance." 

I couldn't even hold back my reaction to the further blow, letting my jaw fall. "Sorry, what? What is happening right now?"

He shrugged, a forced nonchalance about him as he dragged his fingers through his gelled hair. "Again, I'm not into you like that. And if I wanted a therapist, I would've hired one, right?" That seemed quite funny to him-- Roman's mouth curved up as he let out a nervous laugh, now watching my eyes hollow. 

This was probably the biggest whiplash of events I had ever experienced. Completely spellbound by his idiocy, I couldn't do anything other than stare at him. Was he really this clueless, and did he really think these things about me? 

I was very abruptly reminded of why I hated him in the first place. I was about to spew verbal acid at him but was interrupted by the door to the second floor swinging open. With quick steps, I moved away from Roman, glaring at him from afar as I hoped to spot a flash of regret.

But hence; nothing.

I realized that the group of boys at the door were Roman's friends, and they quickly spotted him as well. It didn't take long for him to wordlessly join them, bumping fists as they walked past me. Everything about it made me feel like a ghost-- what had just happened?

And why was I so heartbroken over this jerk?

I felt my heart drop, hiding my face in my hands the second I knew they couldn't see me. Everything about this situation was mortifying; Roman didn't have any feelings for me. I hadn't meant anything to him at all, and all of this back-and-forth had been for nothing.

I was ready to run to the bathroom and burst into tears, completely spent and exhausted, until I suddenly heard a conversation coming from beneath;

"Who was that?" 

"Who?" This was definitely Roman.

"That chick you were with?" 

Intrigued, I pulled myself together before carefully leaning over the banister, trying to get a good look at the gang of boys who were yet to make it all the way to the exit. 

"None of your concern," Roman said, giving in to a chuckle.

That wasn't satisfactory enough for the other guy, who proceeded to shrug; "She was cute, though. Do you have her number?"

Roman's eye twitched, his smirk faltering. Without even saying a word, he shoved the other guy rather harshly; "Drop it,"

I immediately stepped away, clasping a hand over my mouth as the rest of the guys laughed, finally leaving the stairwell. Letting out the breath I had been holding, I clutched my heart as my mind raced-- was I imagining things, or were Roman's words betraying his actions?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

It was haunting me, at this point. Genuinely. 

All the feelings I had for Roman had nowhere to go anymore. For a week now, I had been like a ghost to him. The one thing I had learned about Roman, at the end of the day, was that he was very, very true to his word-- he definitely didn't like me. I could be very sure about this, now that he suddenly had a new cheerleader on his arm again, making it his twelfth. Everything about that made me want to puke; how could I have been so stupid as to believe Roman would feel differently about me? Was he actually the asshole he made himself out to be? Maybe it wasn't a coping mechanism-- maybe it really was just him? 

So, so many questions.

I could only watch him from afar on the bleachers, with Letha sitting next to me and revising her notes for an upcoming test. With a heavy heart, I watched as Roman leaned over to kiss the cheerleader's cheek, and I suddenly recognized the girl from my literature classes; Jessica. Fucking Jessica? Come on!

The sight was enough for me to crumble up my notes, not realizing what I was doing until Letha nudged me; "Uh... What are you doing?" she asked, her green eyes giving me a weird look. 

In an instant, I let go of the paper, accidentally letting it fall to the floor. "Sorry," I mumbled, bending down to pick it up. "I just didn't get much sleep. I'm spasming up." It was hard not to shudder-- lying to my best friend had become a habit, and there was nothing I hated more. 

Letha didn't seem to buy it, but she also didn't comment. Instead, she wrapped an arm around me, soothingly rubbing my back. "What's up with you these days?" she asked, concern coated in her soft voice. "What's bothering you? You can tell me anything, you know that?"

The soft cotton of her sweater, the kindness of her being-- my heart was actively breaking. I didn't deserve any of it. 

Everything felt so worthless at this point; especially while watching Roman's public display of affection to this girl that he barely even knew. Had he actually taken my romance tips and applied them to someone else? Asshole move number one. Eventually, I turned to Letha, a sense of anxiety washing over me as I realized what I was about to do; "Anything?"

My angel of a best friend only held me tighter, shooting me a kind, warm smile as she nodded. "Anything,"

"Okay..." It was getting hard to breathe-- was I really going through with this? My pulse quickened, my words coming out with a sliver of panic; "Please don't kill me, okay?"

Letha tucked a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear, worry filling her eyes. "Seriously, you're torturing me at this point, just say it," She squeezed my shoulders as she attempted a smile. Even in the most tense moments, she still tried to put me at ease.

There was no way I could back down now, and I wanted so badly to be done with it. To be done with the guilt, the shame, and the heartbreak. Just as I was about to speak up, it felt as though my mouth had dried up, and I was beyond breathless when I finally blurted it out; "Roman and I kissed at that party where we played seven minutes in heaven. And... another time after that."

Letha might as well have frozen over. There was no single movement whatsoever. Her arm remained wrapped around me as she stared at me with an empty look, eyes wider than I had ever seen them before.

I caught a glimpse of Roman kissing his new girl of the week in my peripheral view, and along with my confession, that was enough for my tears to press their way up in my eyes with a burn unlike anything I had ever felt in my life. 

I could swear that Letha was furious. That she wanted to throw me down the bleachers and stomp my face in. But instead, she slowly retreated her arm around me, holding her breath. Letha's green eyes glossed over, unable to meet my gaze anymore. "You... What?"

With swift movements, I pressed the sleeve of my sweater up against my eyes, not wanting to cry in public. "Could I please explain?" I tried, holding back a sob-- why on earth had I decided to do this now?

"What is there to explain?" Letha wrapped her jacket tightly around her body, almost as though to hug herself, her words coming out in a breathy mumble. "You kissed. Twice. Had it been once, I might've gotten it because it was a party game, but... you went back for more?" The hurt in her voice was thick, and I couldn't help but notice how small she sounded; I had never seen Letha so upset. 

Her question haunted me, and I buried my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Letha, I never meant to hurt you or go behind your back--"

"Is it at least something serious between you two?" Something about Letha hardened, and her words were starting to choke me. "Please tell me you pulled this crap for a good reason?"

I sniffled, wiping away any impending tears with my sleeve. The truth made my confession even more mortifying-- saying it out loud only made me feel worse; "He says he has no feelings for me..." 

Letha nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she slowly started rocking herself. "And you have feelings for him?" When she didn't get an answer, she finally looked at me, meeting my glossy eyes with a glare so harsh that I nearly shuddered. I would've never thought Letha would be capable of pulling such an expression. Enraged, she raised her voice; "You have feelings for him?!"

Panicked, I put my hands over my head, almost as though I was scared she'd hit me. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry, Letha, you have no idea!--" As I heard her shuffle about, I raised my eyes to see her gather her stuff, ready to leave. My tears were burning in my eyes, obscuring my vision as I desperately grabbed her hand. "Letha, please! I made a mistake, I never wanted to do this to you!--"

"But you did!" Letha sneered, throwing her backpack over her shoulder. She turned to me with a look that would etch itself into my mind for days to come, a look so furious that it gave me goosebumps. "You're no different than the rest. Go be one of his whores, for all I care!"

Stunned, I watched as she made her way off the bleachers, not looking back. I didn't know Letha had it in her to call me slurs, but at the same time... I knew I deserved it. However, nothing could prepare me for the avalanche of sadness that would ensue my confession; I was dead sure that I had lost my best friend, and what had I gained in the process? I buried my face in my hands, allowing tears to run down my cheeks, trying to make myself as small as possible. My shoulders slumped, wanting to ball myself up into nothing and disappear. 

I did my best to get myself together, sniffling as I wiped away my tears. Reminding myself that I was in public, and that I definitely didn't want to make a scene, I let out a shaky breath as I gathered my stuff and got ready to leave. But just as I stood up, I couldn't help but look in Roman's direction, wanting to get a quick glance at the root cause of my misery.

However, I hadn't thought that he would be looking back at me as well.

There he was, his arm wrapped around another girl, but he couldn't take his eyes off me. He wouldn't-- Roman's gaze didn't shy away as our eyes met. Instead, they rounded out with the realization that I had been crying. 

Seeing him again, being acknowledged, was enough to drive me over the edge once more. Letting out a quiet sob, I stormed off the bleachers, clasping a hand over my mouth. Who would've thought my ridiculous crush would lead to these gut-wrenching feelings? It felt as though I couldn't breathe, heaving for air as I rushed to get away from everything and everyone.

 "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

To my surprise, it didn't take long before I heard the familiar sound of long steps following me. My heart beat so hard, I thought it might explode and cover the school grounds in my flesh and blood. The way my pulse quickened made me nauseous-- I needed to get away. "Go away, Roman!" I clutched my heart as I sped up; I didn't need to turn around to know it was him.

His next question could've easily been answered if he'd listened closely to the sob I was suppressing; "Are you crying?" Roman didn't have to do much to catch up to me, but he wasn't lunging at me just yet. "Why are you crying?"

I couldn't believe I had to deal with him on top of everything-- I groaned, turning around to face him despite how bloodshot my eyes looked. "Could you back off? Go back to your braindead cheerleader!" 

It was clear that Roman hadn't expected to be confronted head-on like this. His green eyes widened before they hardened, balling his fists as he spoke; "Why are you so fucking mad? What did I do this time?" 

"Everything!" I inhaled a shaky breath, burying my face in the crook of my arm to hide my tears. There was no way in hell I was about to cry openly in front of this douchebag. "I just-- I just lost Letha because of you! I got so swept up in you, I caused a fucking avalanche!" My lower lip gave in to a quiver, and multiple tears escaped the crease of my arm, now rolling down my chin and landing on the grass beneath us. "And you obviously don't give a damn about me, and I've been throwing my feelings at you like an idiot, and I just... How could I have been so stupid?" 

I swallowed another sob, making an unsuccessful attempt at wiping away my tears. Refusing to meet his eyes, I sniffled as my gaze fell to the ground, shaking my head in denial as Roman stayed silent. "Please, I... need to be alone. I don't want to make myself look even worse in front of you than I already do--"

My ramble escaped me with my next breath; it got caught in my throat as I felt the soft fabric of Roman's sweater against my chin, silently wiping away my tears. It was clear that he figured out I had told Letha. I dared to look up at him, finding an unusually forgiving tenderness about him. 

Speechless, I could only stare right back. Roman was focused on wiping away every hint of a tear, his brows drawing together as he carefully traced the bags under my eyes. The kindness of his gesture, the softness in which he was tending to my sadness, made a familiar warmth spread through my chest all up into the tips of my fingers. It became too much-- I reached for his hand, prying it away from my face. "Why are you doing this?"

Roman shrugged, debating whether to say what was on his mind. It was clear that he was conflicted, and I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed up and the way his jaw clenched. "Doing you a favour. Your mascara is everywhere," Roman grew more and more uncomfortable with my silence. "Just stop crying, okay? Do you want me to talk to Letha?"

"I doubt that will help," I mumbled, sniffling. "Look, Roman, I really can't do this right now... You and your bullshit just lost me my best friend, do you realize that?"

He shrugged; "Letha will come around... I guess we'll have to wait it out,"

"We?" I huffed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill once more. "There is no we. Letha is family to you, so of course she'll forgive you! Me, on the other hand!--"

"There could be," Roman mumbled, interrupting me. His gaze darted down to his shoes, now chewing on his lower lip as his next words came out with a low whisper; "A we, I mean."

What? I shook my head, immediately going into denial. "... What are you even saying?" Something about his words sent me over the edge again-- I was so tired of the illusion of everything turning out alright between us. The exhaustion brought more tears to my eyes, and I brought my hands up to my face, hiding from him in plain sight. "Go away," I said, my voice shaky from the sadness consuming me. "Go away, please just go away! I don't need you to change your mind every week whether you have feelings for me or not, just-- Go!"

Roman sighed before stepping forward, completely taking my breath away as he wrapped his arms around me. It felt as though he understood that I wasn't pushing him away with malice, but more so to protect myself-- and right now, he was wrapped around me like a shield. I didn't have any fight left in me to push him away, so I buried my face against his chest, inhaling the smell of cinnamon cigarettes that I had weirdly missed. 

"Let's go somewhere else, okay?" Roman said, sizing up the people passing us by with a scowl. "I have a feeling you don't want everyone to see this. Just follow me."

It didn't shock me that Roman's first thought was his car-- but I still ended up right there. In the dreaded backseat. Hadn't I promised myself I'd never set foot there? It seemed all my thoughts of reason flew out the window when I was in this state. He was currently tending to my new tears, wiping them away with the pads of his fingers. "Letha will forgive you," he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Do you maybe want a cigarette? They usually help me take the edge off... I have different flavours, if you want?"

I shook my head, feeling my headache swell from all the crying. "No thanks," I said. "And I think Letha would rather cut her head off than forgive me right now. She even called me a whore."

"... You?" was the first thing that came out of Roman's mouth. "The only virgin left at this school?"

Despite how sad I was, it didn't hold me back from hitting his arm. Roman let out a warm chuckle, grabbing my hands, forcing them away from him. "Just stop crying, alright? Pretty girls aren't allowed to cry in the back of my car,"

"... What?" I turned to him, brows drawing together in confusion. Did he just...? 

Roman broke into a smile, nodding to my cheeks; "See? Not crying anymore. Flattery works every time,"

I held back a rather large groan-- I wasn't up for Roman's party tricks, especially not in this state. Knowing that he knew what I felt for him, knowing he used it to toy with me just for the fucks, made me even more angry. "I think I'm good now," I mumbled, turning away from him. "I don't think I should be seen here with you... Letha might actually think I have no heart."

There was a thick silence that fell over us like fog-- it made me face Roman again just to check what the hold-up was. And there he sat, his face suddenly completely serious, his brows drawing together in... anger? "Well, you chose this for yourself," he said, clenching his jaw as his black pupils shrunk. 

Everything about him right now scared me. Why was he staring at me like that? It was as though he was about to pounce and rip me to shreds. "Roman, what's up with you?--"

"You're not the fucking victim here," Roman's words came out with a sneer, sharp enough to cut through wood. "You asked me to kiss you. You started this. Being seen with me is not what's going to make Letha think you're heartless, so either you own up to your crap or leave me the fuck out of it!"

My lips parted in complete and utter shock. I blinked repeatedly, hoping to blink away the angry expression on his face. "What the fuck?" I sat up, tucking my hair behind my ears as I attempted to size him up. "You're the one who dragged this shit out! You threatened to tell Letha we kissed if I didn't comply to your wishes, and then you damn near dry-humped me in that fucking alleyway!"

"Hey!"

I could barely believe it; in the middle of his outburst, I could see hints of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "You know I'm right!" I barked back, balling my fists. I couldn't believe we were having the same argument over and over. "I wouldn't have been in this mess if you hadn't stirred the fucking pot! You could've said no in that fucking closet!" 

Roman quickly got enough of my retaliation; "You know why I didn't!"

"Yeah, and fuck you for that!" The volume of our altercation was rising-- I hoped people passing by the car couldn't hear this. "You shouldn't have kissed me! You should've just told me no, you owed me that kindness!" 

Roman's eye twitched, and I was sure he hadn't blinked in about a minute. "I didn't owe you any kindness! You've always been horrible to me!--"

"Because you've been horrible back!"

"And why do you think that is? You think it's easy to be treated like shit by the one person you?!--" Roman inhaled sharply, eyes widening as yet another confession slipped past his lips. It was clear that he was mortified, that he had definitely not wanted to let that slip, but his eyes never left mine in shock and horror.

It felt as though I had been electrocuted, completely frozen in my seat. Uttering my next words felt as though I was walking through a minefield; "Person you... What?"

It didn't take long before Roman started squirming, eyes now frantically doing everything not to meet mine. "Shut up," he breathed, reaching over to open the car door on my side. Now that he was leaning across me like this, it was obvious that he was trying to get me to exit the vehicle. However, his face betrayed him-- Roman's hand gripped the door handle, slowly turning his head towards me. Like this, I could feel his breath hot and heavy against my lips, inches away from me. 

I wasn't sure why I was digging my nails into my seat as though I was about to be mauled by a wildcat. The intensity oozing from Roman along with the realization that I had nowhere to run completely engulfed me, and my instincts suddenly pushed all thoughts of reason out of my brain. I had no idea what came over me as I put my hand over his, closing the door to the car before doing what I never thought I would do in this situation; our lips came together in a hot, fiery kiss as Roman leaned forward, laying me flat against the backseat. 

I told myself I would never end up in this situation-- in the back of Roman's car. But here I was, splayed out beneath him like all his cheerleader whores, completely out of breath as I gave in to my deepest, darkest desires. The taste of cinnamon tobacco entered my system, and I couldn't help but moan out against him; I had been dreaming of being reunited with him like this for longer than I could remember. So as Roman's weight on top of me gave me a sense of security, the need for his kisses dulled down all my logical thinking. 

There was nothing more important than this. There never had been.

The next thing that happened snapped me out of the constant static noise buzzing in my brain; "I want you so bad," Roman breathed against me, the whiny tone in his voice making my stomach flutter and flip-- was I maybe dreaming? 

"Fuck Letha," he continued, his kisses now trailing down my jaw and neck, grabbing at me as though he was afraid I'd disappear. "Fuck all of that."

No, no, no. I couldn't. "Don't-- Don't say that," It had never been harder to inhale a simple breath before, and I let my lips part in pleasure as I realized Roman was leaving hickeys in the crook of my neck. Why was he doing that? Did he not know everyone would see them and make conclusions?--

Oh.

Before I could protest, Roman's plush lips were back on mine, melting me against him with the softest kisses known to man. In a flash of passion, my hands went up into his hair in an attempt to bring him closer. I could feel the thud of his heart against mine, realizing his was racing as well-- I wondered whether he reacted like this to all his girls. Warmth blossomed in my chest, sparks igniting as Roman leaned in close, lips brushing together as we tried to catch our breaths. The smell of his cologne and the deep citrus scent of his conditioner made me dizzy to the point where it felt as though butterflies danced in my stomach. But the warmth consumed me, completely in awe of the fact that we were reunited again as I leaned into the next kiss, Roman's lips impossibly sweet against my own.

He didn't have to say anything for me to know he had missed me too. The unspoken words passed between us with each stroke of my fingers against his back, each kiss he placed against the corners of my mouth, and the softness of his thumb caressing my cheek. 

Roman pulled away as his long, slender fingers dug themselves into my waist. "Can I try something?" 

What? I was too dazed, too content to immediately deny him. But had I known what he would do next, I probably wouldn't have agreed so fast. Roman leaned forward to unite our lips in another passionate kiss, but I couldn't feel his hands on me anymore. It took me a few seconds to realize he was unbuttoning my jeans and reaching my zipper.

My eyes widened against the kiss, and the squeak I let out got muffled against his lips. In a flash of panic, my hand reached down to grab his arm with speed I didn't know I had. Roman hummed, detaching our fiery union as his green eyes met mine, trying to find the reason for my panic. "Come on," he purred, the look of mischief spreading across his lips. 

"I'm not doing it in the back of your car!" My fingers were still digging into the skin of his arm, making sure he wouldn't move. 

Roman rolled his eyes; "Not what I was getting at, but whatever," A laugh escaped him, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at me splayed out across the backseat. "I'm not that evil. I wouldn't let you have your first time here."

A sense of comfort washed over me-- since when did he take pity on me? "Then what... What are you doing?"

He shrugged, holding back another laugh; "Giving you a sneak peek,"

I wasn't sure what that entailed, but my grip around his arm loosened. 

Something about me changed whenever Roman was around. A part of me wanted to please him,  appease him, and entice him into staying with me like this forever, no matter what. I wanted nothing more than for us to be together, no matter how hard my conscience was gnawing at me regarding the Letha situation. But thoughts of my best friend quickly evaporated as Roman's finger was suddenly deep in my cunt-- I wasn't quite sure when I had managed to get wet, but here I was. It must've been somewhere in between the fighting and the kissing.

I could only whimper against his kisses, not used to having anything in me at all. There was a certain sting, but it dulled down when Roman was at the hilt of his knuckle. It quickly turned into something I had never felt before-- I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was, but it felt as though all the butterflies in my stomach melted into one, a weirdly pleasurable ache building in my lower abdomen. 

As Roman added a second finger into me, careful to go in with slow strokes, my back arched slightly off the backseat of the car. Suppressing a moan, the hand I had in his hair tightened as a certain desperation ran through my veins. I watched as Roman smirked down at me, a knowing look in his eyes as he spoke; "If this feels good, imagine how it will feel when you get the real deal,"

I nearly shuddered-- that thought alone almost sent me over the edge. I could only writhe, my hips meeting the thrusts of his fingers as Roman ran his tongue along my bottom lip. 

I was aware that all of this was a bad idea. To get more involved with Roman, to let him unravel me further; it was plain stupid. And horrible to Letha. I knew it was awful, that Roman and I shouldn't be together, and that I should be running after my best friend to keep begging for forgiveness. 

Everything was starting to make my head spin.

As I came hard around Roman's digits, letting out a moan against his lips which would later make me blush, I couldn't help but wonder what on earth to do next. Should I let it all spiral? Should I get myself together and fix my friendship?

My thoughts completely shut down as Roman's wet fingers made their way past my lips, making me lap up my own slick. 

Filthy. We were filthy, we were fucking horrible, and his following words didn't make me feel any better.

"Let's give it a try," Roman whispered against my lips, sincerity swimming in his green eyes. "You and I... It just has to happen. This feels too good to be wrong, fuck what Letha says." 

There they were, the words I had wanted to hear from him all along. But now that he was right here, telling me he wanted us to be together, I found myself unsure what to say. When Roman leaned forward to sneak in a soft kiss, muffling the warmth of his chuckle, I realized I had a decision to make-- I knew it would end up being one of the hardest decisions of my life so far.

I held my breath, realizing the quote that had haunted me was correct after all; "It is the same rain that you loved that drowned you,"

(a/n: thank you for reading!!<33)

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･seven minutes in heaven masterlist

[silens-oro]

Well Enough Alone: Part VIII

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece) Part III Part IV Trespassing (companion piece) Part V Part VI Slowly We Unfurl (companion piece) Hold on to the Thread (companion piece) But I'll Always Remember (pre-WEA companion piece)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist GirlDad!Pope Baby AU Masterlist

General Synopsis: Pope's acting up and Hawk is acting out. Word Count: 4.3k Content Warning: typical animal kingdom warnings AN: It's been a hot minute since my last update on this fic. I've been stuck in the baby au because this timeline is the bad place and I have been avoiding it like the plague lmao. As always, thank you to everyone who has reached out in some way or another about this fic and the baby au! please comment & reblog :)

“I don’t care what you have to do, Smurf, but you need to fucking fix this!” Pope demanded through gritted teeth at Smurf, inches from her face, as he held her against the kitchen counter. “Whatever bullshit that caused this, it gets fixed or so help me-”

“So help you what, Andrew?” Smurf sneered. “You watch how you speak to me. You are still my son,” Pope pushed his nose into hers, making Smurf take a step back. “And you forget just what I am trying to hold together here.”

“Three people almost got murdered last night -all for shit that happened twenty years ago that you tried to sweep under the rug. Fix. It.” He spat through gritted teeth. 

“I uh, god this is embarrassing.” Hawk started her false tale of how she got the wounds that covered her from head to toe. 

“You want to tell me what happened?” The doctor at the urgent care Hawk went to the next morning prodded at her brutally bruised rib cage. He kept glancing up at her, trying to gauge the situation as he assessed the extent of her injuries. 

“Got in a fight at a bar last night. I was sober, mind you, and I still lost,” Hawk winced when he poked at a particularly tender spot. 

“You sure did,” He said offhandedly. “You definitely have some fractures here, but we’ll need to take some X-rays to see what we’re working with exactly. And as far as the bruising on your face goes, that should settle down in the next couple of weeks.” He snapped his gloves off, tossing them in the bin before sitting on the rolling stool and sliding it closer to her. “And the nose should heal as is, too. Just try not to jostle it. Or get into anymore bar fights. 

“Believe me, I won’t be stepping foot in a bar again so long as I live.” Hawk could tell he didn’t fully believe her. She wouldn’t believe her, and he probably saw cases of DV coming in and out of here all the time, so when he asked his follow-up question, she wasn’t surprised. 

“I know the nurse asked you this before I came in, but are you safe at home?” 

“Yeah, I’m single and live alone.” She lied. “This isn’t domestic, just the consequences of some bad choices that I’ve definitely learned my lesson from.” 

Hawk was sent on her way after some X-rays that showed four fractured ribs. Nothing was chipped or floating, so that was good, but she was still in a world of pain so the doctor gave her a prescription for some painkillers and a pamphlet about resources for domestic abuse. She took both without a comment, other than a polite ‘thank you’.

Pope was waiting for her diligently outside, fingers tapping on the wheel anxiously, wishing he could be inside with Hawk, but knew the cops would be called expeditiously before he was given a chance to defend himself. Still, it irked him. 

He pulled up to the curb when he saw Hawk walk out of the automatic doors and got out of the SUV to help her get in. Pope opened the passenger door and was about to put his hand on her waist to stabilize her, but Hawk held a hand up to stop him. 

“I got it,” She snapped. It wasn’t his fault, not really, but she had so much pent up bullshit that any little thing was going to set her off. 

“Alright,” Pope breathed out, his hands waiting to catch her if she stumbled. It took her a minute or two, but Hawk got herself situated enough for him to gently close the door. He stared at her from the outside for a moment, watching as she attempted to put her seatbelt on before the belt slipped from her hands and clanged against the door from the inside. Hawk closed her eyes in frustration before trying again, then she sighed and sat back. 

Pope circled around the front of the car, anxiety still gnawing at him. He tried not to take Hawk’s response to him personally, but it was very hard not to -especially when he just wanted to help. He swallowed thickly when he got settled in the driver’s seat, looking over tomahawk, but she kept her eyes closed. 

“I love you.” Pope spoke softly, begging Hawk to open her eyes and look at him. Her hands were clenched into fists on her lap and he saw her nod just as tears broke free from under her lashes. 

Hawk wasn’t cut out for this life, not as a kid and definitely not as an adult. The inherent violence that surrounded the Cody family was part of the reason why she kept herself at a distance for so long, why she didn’t want to know anything about what they did. But now that she had Pope, there was bound to be some overlapping -she just never guessed that this is what it would result in. 

Pope never felt as selfish as he did in that moment, watching Hawk’s inevitable breakdown in the car and still wanting to hold onto her for as long as she’d let him. Hawk swallowed a sob, nodding almost frantically in acknowledgment. Her eyes still hadn’t opened but she unclenched her left fist and held her hand between them as an offering to Pope to show she wasn’t mad at him, just at the situation as a whole. 

“I love you, too, Pope.” Hawk whispered, finally opening her eyes to look at him. Pope placed his hand in hers, squeezing it to keep her grounded, as he pulled out of the parking lot. A heaviness settled between them on the ride home, neither knowing what to say, just that something needed to be said. 

It took until Pope pulled into their driveway before Hawk spoke up. 

“He would’ve killed her if she was there.” Pope glanced over to her as she huddled herself against the door, finding comfort in the solidity of the door against her back. “I don’t know what Smurf did to him, but the hatred he had, Andy…you don’t feel that without getting burned by someone. And as much as I hate to say it because she’s your mother, J and I both got burned by her because of this. I’m beyond angry. I’m beyond hurt. I’m never forgiving Smurf for this.” 

“You shouldn’t. What happened to you and J…” 

“I am.” She stressed. “Smurf can’t keep getting away with this, Andy. How many more people does she need to hurt? How many of us need to die before she gets put down?”

“We’ll deal with Javi, and then we’ll deal with Smurf. They’ll both pay for this, I promise you.” 

“I know you want to go after him. Believe me, I want that piece of shit and his cronies dead, but I can’t lose you if this goes sideways, Pope. Lena can’t lose you.” 

“J wants to go after them.”

“He can’t. You need to make sure he doesn’t.” Pope nodded slowly. “This is Smurf’s bullshit that she started. She deals with it or they deal with her. Either way, I never want to so much as look at her again, Pope. I mean it. I won’t hold myself back.” 

“You don’t gotta tell me twice.”

“Javi’ll get what’s coming to him, I know that much, but I’m not stupid enough to go back to prison on murder charges. Not when I have you and Lena to think about.”

Hawk spent the next week locked inside the house. She explained the situation to Jane, not the whole story, but enough to let her know she wasn’t going to be in the shop for the next week or two. She’d have Pope stop by if she needed anything, but Hawk was going to lay low for the time being. 

Pope had been distancing himself mentally from Hawk since the incident with Javi and she couldn’t put her finger on why exactly. He took care of her, nursing her back to health for the first two weeks until she was able to go back to work on light duty. He kept Lena out of the house at Hawk’s request for that first week -Hawk didn’t want to freak the poor girl out with how she looked, so Pope took Lena out and about, but she always ended up back at Baz’s. 

“You can’t hide from her forever.” Pope was becoming irritable with the fact that he had to keep Lena from the house. Did Auntie Hawk leave like mommy? Nearly threw Pope headfirst into the mental spiral he was trying to avoid. “She’s worried about you. She misses you.”

“I know,” Hawk sighed. The bruising had gone down and she was just dealing with soreness in her healing ribs and the remnants of a scab that was giving way to a scar on her upper lip that glared at her every time she had the courage to look at herself in the mirror. “I’m just…I’m struggling.” Hawk’s voice broke. “Mentally, I’m still under the water, fighting my way up but I don’t know where up is.” Pope tilted Hawk’s face up to look at him. His eyes were troubled and his shoulders sagged like he carried the weight of the world on them. 

“It’s handled.” Pope reassured Hawk, his thumbs ghosting over her cheeks affectionately. “He’s gone.”

“Doesn't make this any easier to deal with.” He nodded. 

Pope was sleeping less and staying out until all hours of the night. Hawk was usually awake when he crawled into bed with her, kept awake by nightmares of being held under, the phantom sloshing of water shooting her straight up in the bed when she did close her eyes. She never let on that she was awake, that she didn’t contemplate why he was out and where he was going just so she wouldn’t fall asleep again. 

Pope’s thumbs moved to the circles that weighed her under eyes down. Both of them were hanging on by a thread, each of them attached to one fraying end and eventually, one would drop. 

“Bring her tonight.” Hawk nuzzled her cheek against Pope’s palm. “She’s probably losing her mind with Baz.” 

Recovery was slow, but Hawk seemed to push through the worst of it. Lena was back at the house for most of the time now, and everything seemed to settle back into the way it was before the Javi debacle.

As promised, Hawk did not see or speak to Smurf. Her number was blocked and she didn’t answer the door anytime she stopped by. Hawk wasn’t sure what Pope told Smurf the last time she tried to brush her way past him into the house, but Smurf didn’t try coming over again. 

Tonight, Hawk had the house to herself. Lena was with Baz and Pope had been MIA for the better part of ten hours. To say she was on edge was putting it lightly. Pope started getting up earlier than he usually did and was gone by the time Hawk even cracked her eyes open. He didn’t answer her calls, and would respond with one or two words when she texted him, so she knew he was alive. 

Hawk’s nails were chewed down to the quick. They were sore, but that didn’t stop her from continuously gnawing on them nervously before she yanked them away, shaking her hands in irritation. 

It had been a week of this and Hawk was absolutely sick of it. Sick of the silence. Sick of the secrecy. Sick of not knowing. He’d usually turn up at two or three in the morning without a single word, would undress, then crawl into bed for a few hours before he’d get up and do it all over again. 

Something was very wrong with Pope. 

Hawk was startled awake by her ringtone as it blasted next to her ear. She was sprawled out on the sofa, her hand holding her cell near her face where she had fallen asleep. She sat up, rubbing her squinting eyes as she looked at the right screen before answering. 

“What?” Hawk sighed into the phone. 

“Is Pope with you?” Baz’s voice sounded front the other end. Hawk rolled her eyes as she stood from the sofa to go grab something to drink from the kitchen. 

“No he’s not, but if you hear from him, tell him he can stay at Smurf’s tonight.” She hung up the phone, eyeing a bottle of wine in the wine chiller before ultimately going for a glass of water. If Pope did drinks his way home that night, the last thing Hawk needed to be was drunk. 

For the second time that night, Hawk was awoken by a phone call. Her arm swung to the other side of the bed and was met with cold, undisturbed blankets. 

“Hawk?” J’s voice shouted over what sounded like a party. “Hawk, can you hear me?”

“J? Where the hell are you?” She pulled her phone away from her face and saw that it was nearing one in the morning. 

“Smurf’s! Listen, I have no idea where Baz is and Lena’s here-” at the mention of Lena, Hawk was up and moving through the house to the front door to grab her keys, her purse, and slip on a pair of shoes. Her pajamas left little to the imagination, but that was the last thing on her mind. 

“What do you mean Lena’s there? What the hell is going on, J? Is there a party at the house? Is Pope there?” Hawk knew the odds were probably that he was not, if the noise on J’s end was any indication, but she still hadn’t heard from him. 

“Baz threw a party. I don’t know why, but now he’s missing and Lena had a little accident. She’s fine!” He stressed. “Can you please come get her, though? I’d drive her to your place, but I’ve already been drinking and I think I’m the most sober person here which is troubling.” Hawk did not doubt that. 

“Yeah,” She sighed, trying to push away the headache that was already brewing as she locked her front door. “I’m on my way now. Keep her away from any crazy shit, please?” Hawk hung up and stared down at her phone. She still hadn’t gotten a response to any of the texts or calls she sent him since his last text at 1:47 that afternoon and it was worrying her more than she cared to admit. 

Hawk got angrier and angrier the further she got into Smurf’s house. The house had been turned into a palace of debauchery and every sweaty, inebriated body that bumped into her was one more inch she was pushed to losing it on the next person who touched her. 

“J!” Hawk shouted when she saw him passing through the kitchen back outside with Lena in tow, but her voice wasn’t loud enough to reach him before he was gone in the crowd. 

“Hawk?” She spun around to see Deran looking at her like she was a goddamn unicorn. “What are you doing here?”

“What the hell is this, Deran?” He winced at her tone, but tried to shove his beer into her hand. Hawk gently pushed it away. Her relationship with Deran wasn’t as cut and dry as it was with Baz, or even with Craig. Deran was jaded in a way only the youngest sibling could be, and while he had his hang ups, they generally got along -especially now that he had also cut (most) ties with Smurf to branch out and do his own thing. Now that he was a business owner, they now had one major thing in common. They weren’t close by any means, but they understood each other in a way that Baz and Craig didn’t. 

“Baz threw a party,” He said with a shrug, bringing the bottle back up to his lips. “If you're looking for Pope, he’s not here.”

“Lena’s here.” Hawk stated, anger brushing her expression. “Where’s Baz?” 

“He’s around here somewhere,” Deran did a glance around. 

“And Smurf?” He shrugged again. 

“Out of town. Didn’t say why, but Baz took it upon himself to do this. Stay for a while. Have a drink. Relax,” Deran drew out the last word before patting her on the shoulder. 

“I gotta get the kid out of here, Deran.” Hawk brushed past the youngest Cody brother, irritation permeating off of her. Moans caught Hawk’s attention and her head snapped to the left. Her feet took her down the hall and stopped in the doorway to the den. She couldn’t count how many naked bodies were gyrating and thrusting, moaning and screaming as the orgy before her very eyes took place. 

Hawk needed to grab Lena and get out now. She pushed her way out to the backyard, the sounds of screams and splashing water made her spine go rigid and her pulse quicken. Hawk’s breathing came out sporadically and she twitched every time someone jumped into the pool. 

Hawk pulled out her phone and called J as she continued to push past drunk party goers, praying he could feel or hear his phone in this mess. Something that sounded like ceramic shattered from inside the kitchen and Hawk closed her eyes, counting to five before heading outside before she started knocking heads together. 

“Hey!” J answered. 

“I’m in the backyard. Where are you? Is Lena alright?” 

“We’re in the driveway. She’s got a few scrapes, but she’s fine.” Hawk didn’t answer him as she stormed through the side gate and jogged back to the front of the house. 

Get to the driveway

Get to the driveway

Get to the driveway

Nicky and Lena were sitting on the brick wall that lined the driveway while J was checking out the scrapes on Lena’s leg. 

“Lena,” Hawk called out, her hands shaking as she reached for the young girl. Lena hopped down to the ground and sprinted towards Hawk. She wrapped her hands around Hawk’s hips and buried her face in her stomach. “Are you alright?” Lena looked up at Hawk as she brushed Lena’s hair out of her face with her fingers. 

“He tackled me,” Hawk’s eyes widened. 

“Who tackled you?”

“The man,” Hawk looked at J with fire dancing in her eyes. 

“What is she talking about, J?” 

“There was a car.” Lena answered before J could. “A man tackled me so I wouldn’t get hit.” Every single one of the adults in this house was going to be in for a very rude awakening when this all cleared up. 

“I’m just very happy you’re okay, sweetpea.” Hawk kissed the top of Lena’s head, holding to her stomach as Lena’s grip tightened around her.. 

“Why is she here?” J winced at the tone. “And where the fuck is Baz?”

“I don’t know, but Pope is on his way. I told him you were coming for Lena, but he said to stay here until he got back.” Hawk bristled at the mention of Pope. J saw the pinched look on Hawk’s face and knew she was beyond pissed. Her presence sobered him up instantly and he made the wise choice to be helpful instead of a hindrance. “Let’s go back inside. I’ll make sure a room’s clear for her and she can lay down, alright?” Hawk took a deep breath, looking between him and a guilty looking Nicky, before nodding. 

Hawk sat at the edge of the spare bed as Lena slept. How the kid slept soundly through the chaos outside of the door was beyond her, but it was best she wasn’t awake for the reckoning her father was going to get if he showed back up. 

The door burst open and Pope came through like a raging bull, making Hawk jump up in reaction. 

“Is she alright?” He kept his voice low, as if that would be the thing to wake her up. Hawk nodded. “Stay in here.” She didn’t question it, just nodded once more. Within moments, Hawk heard people stampeding through the house and when it finally quieted down, she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

The house was completely trashed. Food and alcohol covered every surface, anything breakable was broken, and it looked like a bomb had gone off in inside. Smurf was going to have every single one of their asses when she came back. 

Hawk wandered out to the backyard with purpose. She came across Baz as he was coming through the open gate that led to the pool area before Pope did and she laid into him without a second thought. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Pope appeared behind Hawk and grabbed her arm before she threw herself into a full falcon punch at Baz. She wasn’t the type to get physically violent, but he didn’t trust what her body language was saying at that current moment to put it past her.

“Coming in hot, Hawk.” Baz put his hands up, taking a step back.

“You left Lena by herself in the middle of all this shit?” Pope asked, looking around at the destruction left in the party’s wake.

“She was not by herself,” Baz motioned to J and Nicky. J shook his head, silently warning Baz. 

“Where were you?” Pope demanded, shotgun hanging in his free hand. 

“I was out looking for you.” Baz pointed to Pope. 

“Lena almost got hit by a fucking car, Baz! She’s scraped up and it could’ve been so much worse! What if someone tried to hurt her? There were a hundred people here, all of them strangers to her. There was an orgy in the den! What kind of fucked up Father of the Year award are you trying to go for here?” Hawk spat at him.

“Save it, Hawk. I don’t need parenting advice from you of all people.” Hawk huffed out a laugh, and Pope tightened his hold on her. 

“I’ve only raised kids whose parents couldn’t do their fucking job to begin with, Baz, yours included in case you’re forgetting that bit. I know a thing or two about the right and wrong way to do this. She had no business being here.” 

“Enough! I don’t need to listen to this shit from you, alright?” Baz raised his voice, trying to intimidate her into backing down -just like he used to do with Cath when he didn't want to talk about things. But what Baz failed to realize was that Hawk wasn't Cath, and she backed down from no one -Baz least of all. 

“Then be a fucking father, Berry.” Hawk ground out. Everyone that remained at the house watched the back and forth that finally came to a head between the two. “These are the traumatic memories that’ll be seared into her brain for the rest of her life. You don’t get a do over when you realize how much you’ve damaged your kid!”

“Are you speaking from experience with your star pupil over there?” He nodded to J, who narrowed his eyes at Baz. Nicky put her hand on his arm to stop him from advancing and making the situation worse. 

“No, Baz, I’m not. I can say, without a shred of a fucking doubt, that I did a stellar job raising J because I was present. I didn't drop him off to go run off with my boyfriends, or mistresses in your case. The absolute disrespect you have for your own fucking child for bringing her," Hawk pointed directly at Lucy, who was standing back from the group, watching intently with her arms crossed over her chest. "-around while Lena still cries herself to sleep wishing her mom was still here. It’s you and Smurf who’ve undone a decade and a half of work that I’ve put in, so let's not get that fucking twisted.” Hawk was fuming, seething, as she let out every bit of frustration she had been feeling. The look Baz gave her was lethal, deadly, and she knew that he knew she was right.

“Pope fall into that category? If I remember right, he’s the one who got J tied up in all of this so I hope you’re holding him to the same standard as the rest of us.” Hawk wanted to wipe the smug look right off of his face, and if Pope wasn't holding her back, she would've.

“Don’t go there, Baz.” J spoke up, keeping his anger in check. Hawk pulled her arm away from Pope’s hold.

"Enough." Pope's voice boomed with authority. He brought his attention back to Baz. "Where's Smurf?"

“Smurf’s in jail.” Baz finally admitted. Everyone stared at him like he just grew three heads. 

“What?” Pope questioned, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah, jail.” Baz repeated it like he couldn’t believe his own words. 

“I’m taking Lena for the night.” Hawk said, not leaving any room for argument from Baz. “Pick her up when you’ve figured your shit out.” With that, she stormed back into the house. J ushered Nicky to follow her and she did without question.

please comment & reblog :)

[letorip]

casual [iii]

"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that

warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)

word count: 7.2k

A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE

===+++===

===+++===

"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.

Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.

At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.

There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.

After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”

“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”

She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”

“Oh… then yes.”

You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.

When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.

Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.

"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.

"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.

"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."

Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"

"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.

You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."

"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.

"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."

"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."

You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."

"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."

You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.

She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."

"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.

"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.

"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."

"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"

"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.

"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."

"...No, I'm not in love with her."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm done with this!"

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I am."

"Okay."

"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.

"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”

It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.

Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.

This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.

"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.

Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."

"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.

"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."

You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."

"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."

"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."

"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"

But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.

"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.

Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.

Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.

"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"

Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.

"I don't know..."

"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"

"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.

"What?"

"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.

"No the hell I didn't."

"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"

"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"

"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."

Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."

"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"

"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."

You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."

"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"

"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."

"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."

"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.

"Great."

"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.

Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.

I'm in love with Nat.

It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.

"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”

"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."

"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.

The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.

"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I...I think I'm in love with her."

===+++===

Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.

In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.

It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?

The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.

It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.

That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.

Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.

Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.

You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.

The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, mother."

(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"

"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."

"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"

Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"

You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."

"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.

From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.

===+++===

The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.

And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.

"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.

"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.

Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.

"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."

"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"

"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.

You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.

"Wha—"

Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.

"Right..."

You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.

It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.

"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."

She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"

"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."

Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.

She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.

If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.

===+++===

You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.

After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.

You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"

"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"

You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"

"So it's true?! You're dating?"

You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."

"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."

"Well, she's saying you're going steady."

"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."

"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."

"Probably..."

"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"

"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."

"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"

You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."

"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"

You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."

"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"

"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."

"She will soon, though. Monday."

"Yeah...I guess she will soon."

===+++===

Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.

You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.

There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.

You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.

It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.

It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.

Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.

You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.

===+++===

"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.

"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.

"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.

"No she doesn't," you shook your head.

"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."

The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.

"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."

Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.

"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"What."

"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"

It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.

Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.

Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.

"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.

You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.

You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.

It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"

"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.

"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."

"Real genius, aren't you."

"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.

"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.

"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.

"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.

"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"

Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."

You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."

"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."

You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."

"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"

You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.

Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.

"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."

You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.

Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.

"We were just talking, Allie needed help."

"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.

"What are you talking about?"

Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."

It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."

"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.

"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"

"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"

"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.

"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.

===+++===

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.

Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.

When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.

"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."

She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.

"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.

"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."

"With Julie?"

Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"

"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.

"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"

"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.

You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.

"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."

She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.

It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.

After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.

You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."

She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."

===+++===

AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy

[draqu1a]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A DANGEROUS DELIGHT . . .

— what kind? : SMUT — warnings : sexual&suggestive content ahead , viewers discretion is adviced , MDNI .

The silk of your dress feels impossibly smooth against your skin, a stark contrast to the way your nerves are buzzing tonight.

You smooth it down again, even though you know for a fact there's not a single wrinkle in sight. Tonight is a big night for Chris. A gala, making alliances with investors, potential partners and enough champagne to float a small yacht.

And you're here, glued to his side like a particularly fashionable parade.

"Just smile and nod, babe," he'd told you earlier while making final touches to his tie, it already being perfectly knotted. "I'll try not to leave you stranded for too long."

Liar.

He's been working the room for the last hour, a whirlwind of handshakes and forced smiles. You've lost count of the insufferable conversations you had to encounter.

Something about leveraged buyouts, something about quarterly projections, something about… you honestly tuned it all out after the first fifteen minutes of attending the event.

You’ve mostly been smiling, nodding, and trying not to spill your red wine on anyone important and possibly face a petty lawsuit.

You catch his eye across the crowded ballroom. He offers a strained smile, a silent apology etched onto the features of his stupidly perfect face face.

He’s trapped, you can see it. Trapped by obligation, by ambition, by the relentless demands of his empire and carrier path. A wave of frustration suddenly washes over you.

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him – the late nights, the constant travel and business trips, the never-ending stream of social events and meetings.

But knowing it doesn't make it any easier when you're standing alone at an event filled to the brim with people important to the business society, feeling like nothing more than a decorative accessory for people to just gauge at.

Another blonde woman in a ridiculously expensive designer dress latches onto Chris, her laugh an annoying high-pitch, grating sound that sets your nerves on fire. That's it. You're done.

You turn and head towards the edges of the room, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor. You need air. You need a break from all of the socializing.

You need… Chris. But the real and genuine Chris, not the all polished, performative version he’s projecting for the benefit of the room.

You find yourself in a dimly lit hallway, lined with portraits of stern-looking men in powdered wigs. Perfect. You lean against the cool wall, close your eyes, and take a deep breath to cleanse your mind.

"Lost, darling?"

The voice is a low rumble, instantly familiar. You open your eyes to find Chris standing before you, his tie softly loosened, his eyes dark with something that looks suspiciously like hunger.

"I was starting to think you’d forgotten I existed," you say, your voice sharper than you intended.

He steps closer, stepping inside of your personal space. "Impossible," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. "Besides, I always pay my debts."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've been thinking about getting you alone all night."

A shiver runs down your spine. "Is that so?" you breathe, trying to sound nonchalant, but your pulse seems already be racing.

"Oh, you have no idea," he whispers, his hand sliding down your back, pulling you against him. The heat of his body seeps right through the thin fabric of your dress. "I'm going to make it up to you. Right now."

He glances down the hallway before going back to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He grasps your hand and leads you down the hall right before stopping in front of what appears to be a heavy oak door.

He pushes it open, behind it revealing a small, empty room – probably a storage room.

He pushes you inside and shuts the door, the sound softly muffled by the thick wood. The room is dark and slightly dusty, the air thick with the scent of old wood and disuse. Perfect.

He doesn't waste any of the delicate time. He backs you against the door, his body pressing right against yours. "God, you look incredible tonight," he rasps, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Chris," you gasp, your head falling back against the cool wood.

He kisses you hard, possessively, his tongue plunging into your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shoulders. He pulls back slightly, his eyes clearly blazing with desire.

"I want you so fucking bad," he growls, his fingers fumbling with the zipper of your dress.

"What about your guests?" you manage to say, your voice completely breathless.

"Man, fuck the guests," he says, his voice thick with lustful unsaid words. "Right now, it's just you and me."

He lowers his head and begins to kiss your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You arch your back to grant him better access. His hand slides under your dress, finding the sensitive skin of your thighs. You gasp, your legs almost threatening to buckle.

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that vibrates right through your body. "Easy, darling," he murmurs lowly. "We don't want to cause a scene now, do we?”

He continues on with his actions, his touch becoming more eager, more demanding. You're hanging off the edge of something dangerous, something delicious.

But just as you're about to lose yourself completely, he pulls back, his breath ragged and features softly disheveled.

"As much as I want to keep going," he says, his eyes still dark with desire and hunger mixed together, "we can't risk being gone too long. People will start to wonder."

He kisses you one last time, a quick, sharp kiss that leaves you wanting, pleading for more. "But trust me," he whispers, his lips against your ear. "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

He straightens your dress, smoothes down his tie before he opens the door a crack, peering out into the hallway to make sure no one was around.

"All clear," he says. He takes your hand and leads you back into the glittering chaos of the ballroom, leaving you breathless, flushed and utterly desperate for more of his touch.

The rest of the evening passes in a complete blur of polite conversation and strained smiles, but all you can think about is the promise of what's to come when you two return home . . .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : i’m still figuring out how to work this app proper so don’t bash me 💔 @strnilolover taught me some cool tricks and the gradient text thingy, anywayy first fic here just dropped like a mic bitch .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . empty taglist for now ;(

[fanficimagery]

Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."