#it's easier when it's a tiny recording

[bleaksqueak]

Now that my brain has had sufficient time to process that six nine revelation...I'm still reeling. I had a feeling he was going to be taller than the boys based on some of the comments you'd made about Audric when he was younger and holiday mascots but for some reason six nine has broken my brain. As a tiny five two myself, on a good day, I cannot comprehend being that tall and am just going to keep thinking about it for a while

I spend way too much time amusing myself over scenarios of them meeting, fwiw. Lyra and Audun, that is. She's kind of a lanky beanpole herself (like 5'8. I think she's the tallest femme char in the cast, well, of the magi. Pretty sure we'll see Mrs. Rosewood at some point, given that family hails from Lichgate, as stated in the fading bg chp 0 convo between Thackery Rosewood and Grian From HR. She'll definitely take the prize in any magi/maven combination lineup, while Maddie's the shortest adult femme.) But back to the Thorncrofts/Papa, we kept musing that it only felt right if he was the tallest in the already Vertically Proficient family. It especially means that, in full masked/hooded uniform (especially with aura manifested), he must look quite intimidating even to madness consumed, high level corruptions. Hopefully! It'd make the job easier if they did a little pause. Might not lose any extra body parts at least...

[4unnyr0se]

❥ kuroo as your boss

warnings: post-timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, office sex, blatent favoritism, kuroo coddles reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, desk sex, unprotected sex, not proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 694

Tetsuro Kuroo, the best damn boss anyone could ask for. Gave anyone the day off when needed, even if they were out of paid sick days. His office morale was the highest ever recorded in the Sports Promotions division, and he was damn proud of it. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who originally hired you because you looked really good in a pencil skirt. And because he needed a female employee for diversity’s sake. Either way, he had no idea of your skills or how you would manage in a sports office setting.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was shocked to hear that you actually went to Nekoma and were in the same class as Kenma. Who called himself stupid for not recognizing a pretty girl when he was in high school, who called Kenma after he was done for the day to scream at him for not introducing him to such a fine piece of ass. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who had you do the work you wanted to do and never gave you assignments or paperwork you didn’t feel like you could handle. Was he coddling you? Sort of, but how could he not? You were just too pretty to be stressed. As long as you were his employee, you wouldn’t experience work-related stress. Not under his watch. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who always bought you lunch from wherever you wanted. You wanted sushi? Premium salmon rolls got delivered in 30 minutes. Wagyu? Consider it done. Convenience store ramen? He bought 10 cases for you to take home and eat at your leisure. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who confirmed the rumors that you were his favorite employee. What were they gonna do about it, hm? He wasn’t disenfranchising them by spoiling you; being jealous isn’t a cause to get you fired. He was a smug bastard and gave no shits. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was eating lunch with you in his office one day. Who observed how your tiny pencil skirt rode up your thighs perfectly, how your stockings made you look so fucking sexy. He observed how you blushed when he looked at you, the cutest giggle leaving your lips. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who thanked the universe that his office had two-way blackout curtains and soundproofing. He would bend you over the desk and rip a hole in your stockings, purring at the sight of your soaked lace panties. Did you wear those just for him? Adorable.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who made you sit in his office chair as he ate your pussy like he was on death row. Who relished in your desperate and wanton cries of ecstasy, another orgasm rippling through you. Who demanded you finish on his tongue over and over again, that was all he wanted to eat. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who sighed as he got under-the-desk support while on a phone call with a very important sports vendor. He would grip the mahogany of his desk as he felt your tongue trace on his cock’s throbbing vein, prematurely cumming all over his face. Who, when asked what was wrong, said he just stubbed his toe. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who fucked you like a machine each afternoon. Who gripped onto your hips with such strength that it left imprints on your hips as he fucked you harder and harder. Who demanded you scream as much as you needed, no one would hear. And even if they did hear, no one would stop him. He was their fucking boss. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who never used a condom because you’re on the pill. Who moaned at the sight of his seed leaking out of your weeping core as you struggled to fix your now wrinkled pencil skirt, shooting him a dirty look the entire time. Who promised he would go easier on you tomorrow, but he never did.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was actually kind of glad that he met you when you were both adults. If he had met you in high school, he never would have fucking graduated or kept Nekoma a powerhouse school. He would have been too distracted flirting with you the entire time. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who went to bed every night satisfied with his decision to hire someone as gorgeous as you.

[kechiwrites]

totally platonic

johnny "soap" mactavish x best friend!reader kinktober countdown, day three (recording)

synopsis: soap helps you give your ex something real to worry about. 🎥

wc: 1.6k

cw: recording / making a sex tape, revenge, allusions to potential cheating (emotional?), fem + afab!reader, anal play, fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of cunnilingus

author's note: my first forray into soap, for the anon who asked for soap helping reader get revenge...like a million years ago.

“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name. 

“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length. 

Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.

You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities. 

Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour. 

It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces. 

Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.

What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.

Fucking the way you are right now.

He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect. 

Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick. 

He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.

And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?

“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.

Or loves you.

You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,

“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.

Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”

“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.

“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”

Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.

“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.

Or maybe that was just you.

Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.

"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.

Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?

"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.

Either's as likely.

When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing. 

Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return. 

“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording. 

“Give it here.” 

You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other. 

Leo had hated it.

“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?” 

“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows. 

“Then we’d best get started.”

Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.

god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.

support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[ericshoney]

Future vlogger ~ Brothers!Sturniolo triplets

Summary: You get a hold of the camera not realising it was vlogging.

Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the age of two, you have already changed so many lives. You were a total surprise to your family, your parents not expecting to get pregnant this later in life, but they were happy, along with your four older brothers.

You were now at the age where you were starting to learn everything, wondering why three of your brothers looked the same and sometimes lived with you and sometimes didn't.

Nick, Matt and Chris explained simply what they did, showed you some of their videos, which always made you giggle.

Today the guys were back in Boston and wanted to take you out for lunch whilst filming a little vlog.

"What's up guys, welcome back to another vlog, today we are just going out and taking our little sister, Y/n too." Nick introduced.

"Come along for the fun!" Chris exclaimed.

You then came running out of Matt's room, wearing a tiny Fresh Love hoodie that Chris got you custom made, some brown shorts and a pair of black Converse.

"There's the special Sturniolo!" Chris shouted as you ran to him.

"Loving the outfit, kiddo." Nick said, showing the camera your fit.

"Matty pick it." You said as Matt walked in smiling.

"That I did, bub." He replied.

"Okay guys, first stop, food!" Chris shouted to the camera.

Nick turned the camera off as you all got in the car, you sat in the back with Nick playing some games on your IPad, whilst Chris was trying to find some songs to play that didn't swear much. The guys tried their hardest not to swear around you, but sometimes it was too hard not too.

"Get out of the fucking road you idiot!" Matt screamed at some dude who was just crossing in the middle of a busy road.

"Matt!" Nick shouted.

"Oops." He mumbled.

You were luckily distracted by your IPad not to notice. When you all arrived at the restaurant, you held Nick's hand as you walked in, Chris vlogging when you sat down.

"Whatcha colouring, kid?" He asked, as you coloured your menu.

"Cat." You answered, pointing to the now purple cat.

"Very cute." He said.

After a bit, Chris put the camera down, thinking it was turned off. You reached for it and giggled pulling faces at the camera, not knowing it was still recording.

"Hi vog." You waved, making the guys smile.

Once the food arrived you all started eating. Nick cut your chicken up so it was easier for you to eat as the guys talked about what else to do.

~~~~

When you all returned home, you ran off to find Trevor as Nick started to edit the footage. He sat watching it and noticed it recorded your bit in the restaurant, calling Matt and Chris he played back the footage again.

"I thought it was turned off." Chris said.

"Well obviously it wasn't." Nick sassily responded.

"Keep it in. It's cute." Matt said.

"It is, the fans will love it too." Chris replied agreeing.

"We have a future vlogger on our hands~" Nick sang, smiling again at the screen.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

From love and life

a/n I feel like we might need some good old fluffy fluff with a tiny bit of angst. So enjoy! Any sort of interaction is so so so appreciated!🤍🫧

summary: you're heavily pregnant but your medical assistant is needed in a close by town. Emotions run high and a little someone decides to make an appearance, just the timing is not ideal.

Can be read as a part two to A slice of paradise but this is a standalone

warnings: pregnancy, birth descriptions, complicated delivery, blood, yeah...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The kitchen was dim. The only source of light was the lamp that stood in the living room. The record player lightly filled the space with old tunes as you and Joel swayed in the middle of the kitchen. It was such a rear moment lately. There was so much going on that you two hardly spent time together. Well, now that Joel was refusing to do patrol, he was way more present and even more nagging on your pregnancy brain. Even if it came from the love that he felt for you and the baby, you wish he worried less. But then again, it was easier said than done.

Your arms were lazily draped over your lover's shoulders, head nestled into his chest. Joel's grip on your body was tender. Wearier of you falling by accident, so one of his hands was firmly supporting your back, the other lovingly cupping the side of your bump. As if he were including the babe in your little nighty dance as well. Humming the tune as you two twisted and turned. There was so much love at this moment. So much attentiveness. So much reassurance. That you were in this together. That evening was going to be okay.

Even in Jackson, it was scary to bring a baby into this world. It felt so fragile. In the beginning, it made you feel selfish that you even considered conceiving in circumstances like this. But then there was nothing more that you wanted. You wanted to make Joel a father again. Even if Ellie was your baby girl as it was. You just wanted to give him a chance to raise another one. Because you knew that the fatherly love that he had was endless.

"Sofie?", Joel muttered into the nothingness of the room, and you peeled your head off his chest, shaking your head, "No, no, that's what my neighbor back in Texas was called; she was a.. well, a whore". Joel chuckled slightly and said, "Okay, Sofie gets the chop then". This had been going on for some time now. You two didn't fuss about names at the beginning, but now that you could go into labor in a matter of days, it had become quite a headache. Ellie had presented you with lists of names for both genders. She was excited to become a sister. Well, when her doubts about actually being a part of this family didn't cloud her mind. In all honesty, Ellie's reaction to the news was way more positive than you imagined it to be. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like she was suddenly losing her rights as your and Joel's daughter.

"What about Margo?", Joel said, hands resting on your sides now, as you two continued to sway. Something in your stomach almost flusters at the sound of that, and that sensation was quickly followed by a strong kick. Joel's face quickly turned into a pleased smirk. You opened your mouth, but Joel only shook his head, "You don't even have to answer darling, our baby girl agrees," you rolled your eyes at him, "You don't even know if it's a girl," "I do she just picked her name". His hands moved to lift the shirt you were wearing. One of Joel's shirts. Both for comfort and also because it smelled like him—that's what you told Joel when he first saw you in it. Plus, at this point, almost nothing fitted you. And not all occasions were fitting for a flowy dress, even if it made the bump look adorable.

Joel's tender findings rubbed your big bump, "You're a smart little one. You like Margo, Margo Miller, huh?" Joel's attention was fully on the baby now. A baby who was happily kicking inside your tummy. A baby that mostly only kicked for Joel. Already daddy's girl or boy. The bond they built was mind-blowing to you. But then again it didn't surprise you. Joel was by your side as much as he could. He talked, sang, and read stories to the bump almost every night. Not a morning was missed without kisses. This was another source of the proposal for Joel.

"Hate to interrupt you both, but I need a snack", you mumbled, brushing some of the hair from Joel's forehead away, "You are free to continue this upstairs, and you'll be much cozier in bed; bending like that will do a number on your back". Joel looked up at you, pretending to be utterly offended by your words, "Are you calling me old?", "I'm calling it snack break that leads to bed break", you gave him a bright smile before turning to search for a jar of pickles. Joel watched you happily munching, a proud smile on his face.

You were wobbling around the kitchen, adding refills of eggs and pancakes to Ellie's plate, when you heard a knock on the door. Joel was quick to move the chair, but you placed a hand on his shoulder, mumbling a quick I got this before moving towards it. "Tommy?", it came out more surprised than it should have, but then again, he rarely came by so early and in the middle of the week as well. The younger Miller glanced towards Joel. Swallowing worriedly, you could feel a sense of dread there. "Did something happen?", you asked, moving to rest your hand on his upper arm. Tommy exhaled carefully, "You might want to kill me, but let me…", "Get to it", Joel said firmly, not breaking eye contact with his brother. "There's an emergency in the nearby town. They don't have a medic good enough", Tommy's eyes were on you now, but Joel cut in firmly, "No".

You speared him no mind though, asking, "What happened?". You had been a medic before the outbreak. It had always been your passion, not just a job. So even the fact that the world fell apart didn't stop you from wanting to help those in need. "I'm not sure, but it's a boy, and he's five at best", he continued, but Joel shook his head. "Don't try to guilt-trip her", "Joel", you warned your lover firmly. "I'm not, but you don't have to; maybe you could just talk to them on the radio?" This had to be serious if Tommy was here in the first place. And the look on his face clearly showed that the morning hasn't been easy for him.

"Get the horses ready", you said softly, "Over my dead body are you riding", Joel was up and walking towards you now. "Rode, you just the other night didn't seem to complain then", you bit back, shooting him an angry look. Ellie snorted while keeping her head down, trying not to catch too much attention, but Joel's glare still landed on her. Messing with Joel in moments like this was dangerous. This man loved his family more than he loved his life. Nothing could stand in his way. And the one who tried never survived long.

"Y/N", he said firmly, "Joel", you repeated the manner. "You're eight months pregnant; this is out of the question", he tried to reason, but in the same way as him, you were stubborn. And if you set your mind on something, making you back away was almost impossible. "You are free to stay, old man", turning to Tommy, you nodded quickly, "Go, get them ready for me, will ya?". Tommy nodded and wasted no time as he slipped out of the house. He knew that Joel's scolding would come sooner or later, but for now, he was thankful to be off the hook.

"Love", Joel's tone was smoother and calm now, as he reached for your arms. You understood his worries, and yes, you were close to giving birth, but the ride was not that long, and you felt just fine. "Joel, I ain't leaving that kid to die", His jaw tightened as he searched your eyes. Now silently pleading for you to skip this one. "You're coming along or staying here?", Joel just shook his head, still frustrated, but he said nothing. Moving towards the stairs to pack a light backpack You knew the frustration would wear off eventually. With time.

"Can I join?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. "If you want to", you told her. The area was safe and closely monitored. The trade roads were extremely important. At times, exchanging supplies was a crucial part of surviving. "Cool family trip! Like the old days", Ellie chirped. You couldn't help but crack a smile at it. It was quite a trip you all had. Coming to Jackson wasn't easy. It seemed like forever ago now. Yet the incidents lingered in the back of your mind. It still felt too good at times. Well, even the fact that you were pregnant now was a clear indication of how everything had changed. Back in QZ you and Joel were extremely careful. To get pregnant, there was a way to end up in a grave. Here in Jackson, however, it was more than possible.

The boy had an open fracture in his shoulder. A lucky one. An inch lower, and it would have pierced his heart. He was in a critical condition when you got there, but you didn't let your mind slip even for a second. Calm and collected. Not the slightest shake of your fingers. Only when he was laying in between the clean sheets did you let your mind slip, hand resting on your bump as you watched his chest move up and down. The sound of his mother's cries still swirling in your brain. How easy was it to lose someone you loved? Didn't need to be infected even. Anything could happen.

A hand that slipped on your shoulder made you jump. You turned to your side upon seeing Joel there. Your body instantly eased. Joel was scared the whole time you were in the operating room. He didn't move from the little window. Eyes watching you as you worked. Every minute that you stayed up on your feet made him more and more tense. This wasn't okay. You were too far along in your pregnancy to operate for three hours. Your body needed rest, not this. Only now did you realize how tired you were. But you couldn't show it. No, Joel would worry too much, and this was already far too much worrying for one day. So you squeezed his hand firmly before standing up.

You and Ellie were walking through the forest. Well, you were wobbling. Walking properly wasn't an option any longer. Joel was behind you both once again, keeping a close eye on you. You suggested you walked for a bit midway through the ride. Joel gave you a questionable look but nodded his head regardless. "So they just grow like this?", asked Ellie, looking at the bush that was covered in blueberries. You nodded your head, "They do. As a kid, I loved going into the forest to pick berries". It's been quite sometime now that she was a part of your life, but no matter how many stories you told her, Ellie still found things that surprised her.

You encouraged her to reach for the berry. Watching as her eyes gaped as the sweet taste hit her tongue. "Can we get some and make a pie or something?", she asked as she reached for another handful. You smiled at her softly, "Of course we ca-ahh,", you crunched forward. Bracing yourself on the tree that was by your side. Joel's steps picked up as he moved closer to you. Ellie's big eyes watched you. "Mom,", she asked worriedly, even if the tight look on your face eased. Joel's fingers wrapped around your forearms, steadying you. "It's nothing, guys; no one needs to worry", you said. Cupping the material of the long fabric beneath your bump for extra support. "You should sit down for a minute", Joel looked around, trying to find a place for you to rest somewhat comfortably.

"There's no need", you tried to sound calm, but another wave of pain hit you, making you grip Joel's hands. Ellie looked at Joel now. Worry seeped through her because even if she knew little about things like this, it didn't seem like nothing to her. "Y/N…", Joel rasped out himself, trying to undress what was happening. But you knew this wasn't nothing. Because you began to feel strange the moment you arrived in the nearby town. Then the pain picked up during the operation, but you were able to breathe through it. It didn't bother you all too much. You were sure you were good once it eased, but then you couldn't seem to sit on the horse as the pressure and pain increased. You knew this was something more.

"Don't get mad", you said through gritted teeth as the pain slowly eased, "I just… I felt", but it seemed like your baby was more than eager to do the speaking for itself as a warm trickle of liquid started to slowly trail down your legs. The material of your dress dampened. Another breathy exhale caught in your throat as you hissed. Joel moved an arm around your middle, "I fucking told you, shit", "Don't be like that", Ellie warned him quickly. Stress was not what you needed now, yet Joel didn't budge, "Like what? We're in the middle of the woods, and Y/N's water just broke". "Joel," you cried out in pain once more, both hands holding onto your tight stomach as even more liquid rushed down your legs.

"Fuck okay, come here", Joel told you, but you didn't want him to pick you up. "Dad ", Ellie rasped out, "It's okay, everything's okay, we'll figure this out". Joel wasn't sure if he believed it, but he had to. Someone had to. "Can you sit on a horse?", he questioned, but you shook your head straight away. His mind was blanking out for him. Heart racing. This was not how you were supposed to give birth. "I saw a cabin on the way here. It… was just over the valley", Ellie spoke up again, Joel nodded his head. This was the best chance you had because there was no way he was getting you to Jackson in time, "Lead the way, kiddo".

Joel lowered you just by the patio. He needed to go in first and make sure there was no one there. No infected, no raiders. That it was safe. Ellie felt like she was going to grow gray as she watched you grip the railing. She had seen Joe getting stabbed; she had been through so much shit. Put bullets through people's heads, but somehow nothing compares to this and the fear of losing you. "Hey, look at me", you caught Ellie's hand, "It's going to be okay", you rubbed your finger over her palm. "But what if you or the baby… we have no proper…", she rambled on, "Ellie, darling, it's okay". You could only imagine how scary this seemed to her. Considering that she had never seen anyone in a position like this.

"Your sibling is just slightly more excited to meet you", you chuckled slightly, and a little smile broke onto her face as well. "I'd rather she stayed in your stomach till we returned". You hummed at her words, "Funny thing about babies is they don't listen". She breathed with you through the next contraction. Doing and saying the things that she heard Joel say while you were making your way here. "Mom?", Ellie questioned once more as your face eased, "Everything will be okay, right?", you gave her the best smile you could manage, "Of course, babe."

But everything was far from being great. Joel had pulled an old mattress from the other room and placed it next to the fire that was burning in the fireplace. Ellie was anxiously changing the cold, wet cloth on your forehead as you panted rapidly, holding onto Joel's hand. They both felt helpless. Not sure how to soothe or help. The pain was evident on your face, and if at the start you could still speak between the sharp shooting daggers that ripped through you, now it seemed that you barely managed to even take a breath in between them.

Joel moved so he was kneeling between your parted legs. "Breath, love, you need to take proper breaths", his hand moved up and down your thigh, "Remember how we practiced?", you weakly nodded your head, "Of course you do, you're a trooper", "You need to check me," your hand moved towards your thigh. Joel shrugged off his jacket, quickly rolling up his sleeves. You probably would have told him how good he looked like this. But unfortunately for you, the pain was now the center of your consciousness. Joel gave you one more look as if he was asking for permission, and his hand slipped between your legs. "I feel it. I feel the head", he said firmly, and you nodded your head.

The progress was slow, or more like there was none. Your breathing grew more and more labored, yet no matter how much you pushed, it seemed to lead you nowhere, and the energy was slowly starting to leave your body. "Something isn't right", you muttered after another wave had eased. You had started to shake slightly. "What do you mean?", Joel asked you worryingly. Suddenly it all becomes awfully real to Joel. You could easily die. This could easily lead to him to losing you both. And with the amount of blood on the white material… Joel didn't need to have a medical education to know that this wasn't right.

"Tell me what to do", he tried to meet your eyes, but they seemed frantic. The panic was more than discouraging. No, Joel wasn't going to lose you both. That wasn't an option. "Y/N, look at me," he said as he moved closer to you, "We're going to do this". Joel turned to Ellie briefly, "You think you could find your way back to Jackson, kiddo?" Ellie nodded her head rapidly. She had helped as much as she could. Joel tried to keep her away from the blood, but he could do nothing about the screams and clear agony that you were in. "Okay, you need to go get the midwife and Tommy here", Ellie only managed to nod again. She was shaky and scared. But then again, in the same way as Joel, she couldn't lose you. With one last look at you, Ellie darted out, nearly falling off the stairs as she reached for the horse.

"Help me up. The gravity….", you muttered. Joel reached for your hands, pulling you up, before moving to stand against your back. You were all covered in sweat. Your lower half was drenched. You could feel the blood drying on your thighs and cracking as you moved. Please, you thought to yourself. If this went on any further, you were going to faint. Your body felt heavy. You could barely hold onto your knees as you pushed.

"I don't think I can…", you whispered, once Joel helped you to your knees. "Of course, you can", Joel said firmly, but you still shook your head, "This is my fault". But this time Joel cupped your face, making you look at him, "We're bringing this baby into the world, and you two will be just fine. I've got you. I'm with you. I believe in you" he said, leaning his forehead onto your damp one. Joel took a moment to breathe. You needed him to be strong now. He needed to be your rock.

You pushed and pushed, and minutes melted into what felt like endless nothingness. Joel's voice guided you through it all. You had no clue how he managed it, but he was holding onto one of your legs, giving you extra support to press onto something as you pushed. While the other occasionally slipped behind you, to help you push up. "Come on, one more, mama. One more", Joel's hand rested behind the infant's head as he looked back up at you, "Give me one big one, and we'll be a family of four". You did just that. With a deep breath, you pushed with all that you had left. Yet another scream ripped past your lips, and the pressure suddenly eased as your head fell back onto the mattress.

Joel quickly pulled the baby up as the loudest cry filled the living room. He couldn't help a smile; he couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes. Joel reached for his jacket, quickly wrapping the babe in it, and rocking it gently. "Hello, gorgeous, look at your cries", he cooed at the newest Miller for a moment before his eyes moved up to look at your tired face that was now covered in tears as well. "So…", you trailed off as Joel leaned over to you so he could rest the baby on your chest. "Dad had a good intuition", he teased, and you felt another wave of tears coming. "A girl", you muttered, looking down at the pruny baby in your arms. "Oh, you sweet angel", your finger carefully traced her cheek, "As stubborn as her mom too". Joel moved behind you, making sure that you were comfortable as you rested against his chest. "She has your eyes", you muttered, looking up at your lover, who looked down at you lovingly. "Can you believe that we made her?", he asked. You shook your head, "I'm still mortified that this is a dream".

The sudden noises outside made you both perk up. Joel reached for the gun, pointing it straight at the door. Just as breathless Ellie fell into the room. Behind her, a dark-haired lady rushed into the living room. Smiling at the sight of the baby bundled up in your arms, "Look at you three, good job, and congratulations". Lydia was the main midwife in Jackson. She cupped your cheeks, stealing a glance at the baby before moving to look at the mattress.

"Check her first, Lydia,", you asked her, but the lady only shook her head, "No, darling girl, you're still bleeding, and the baby with lungs like that is more than healthy". You wanted to argue, but the chaos of the room suddenly made you feel dizzy. Your mouth went dry. "You two, baby, and Ellie, out of the room now", the midwife pointed quickly to the two Miller brothers. "What's going on?", Joel asked, yet no one answered him as Lydia pulled your body up and away from Joel. Only now did Joel see how pale you were. But Maria placed the baby into his arms before pushing them all out of the room.

Joel's worries didn't die. They were clouding his brain. You were fine just a moment ago. You talked and… But then he saw Ellie's big eyes searching the room. She looked so small. So lost and so scared. "El", Joel called out lovingly, making her snap her head towards him, "Want to see your sister?". A long-lost sparkle gleamed in Ellie's eyes. "A girl?", she muttered under her breath. "Margo. Unless your mom changes her mind", Ellie stepped closer, careful as ever. As if too big a step might harm the baby somehow. Her hands stayed by her side as she looked at the baby in Joel's arms. "She needs a bath", Ellie muttered, Joel laughed slightly, "Yeah, we can give her one after", she nodded, her eyes never leaving the infant.

"Can I… I don't have to", she trailed off, "Come here, make sure you support her head", Joel made room on the rundown sofa that was in the room they were rushing into. Ellie's arms were stiff. She stopped her breathing for a moment. "She's so tiny… Hi", the baby grasped onto her finger, making Ellie look up at Joel as if she was asking if this was okay, but he only smiled at her. "You reckon she knows who I am?", Ellie asked. Joel leaned in to kiss the side of her head. "After all the dance parties you had and the cookies you made? I think you are already best friends". Ellie nodded her head in approval, yet her eyes darted to the door and asked, "And mom?".

Here was where Joel didn't know what to say. He wanted to reassure her but he couldn't. Because he didn't know what was going on. What if you were dead? A cold shiver ran down his back. No, you couldn't. His chest started to grow heavy all of a sudden. But the door swung open, and Joel had stood up at lightning speed. "Lydia,", he called out, bracing himself for the worst, but the old lady just gave him a warm smile. "She lost a bit more blood, but everything is okay. She's all cleaned up; you three should head to her", Joel practically sank to the floor as those words filled his mind. Whoever was guarding him was working overtime. He turned to Ellie, but she was already walking through the door with Margo in her hands. "You did a good job", Lydia squeezed Joel's hand, "Go have some family time with your girls".

Ellie was nestled by your side, silent tears falling down her cheeks as you held her close. Joel stepped in as quietly as he could, but his eyes instantly found yours. You gave him a weak smile. You knew he could tell just how tired you were. "I'm so outnumbered by females now," he said as he sat down by your other side. Moving your hand to his lips as he kissed it. He nudged Ellie slightly, feeling even more ease slip through his body as she giggled. "You're destined to be a girl, dad", you muttered, running your hand up and down the baby's back as she started to fuss.

"I think someone's hungry", you said, trying to get more comfortable. Joel instantly stood up so he could pull you up slightly, reaching for a spear blanket before putting it behind the makeshift pillow. The suckling noises filled the space within seconds, as Margo happily latched on. Her tiny fist flexed in the air. Ellie instantly moved her finger for Margo to grasp; her tiny fingers wrapped around it, and her fussing eased as she ate.

Joel just watched you three, his hand resting on your thigh. This was both the scariest and most beautiful experience ever. He got to bring his baby girl into the world. He had missed Sarah's birth back then. Only got to see her wrapped up in a pink blanket hours later. It had eaten at him for years. He knew he wanted to be here this time. There was no doubt, and now, after everything, he thought that it couldn't have been more perfect.

"You're okay?", your fingers squeezed his thigh gently, making him turn to you. "Yeah, just thinking about how perfect you are and how much I love you all", you couldn't help but smile, mumbling a quick I love you back to him. It was Ellie who was struck by those words the most. She knew that you both loved her. You had told her that many times, but Joel had never directly spoken about it. "I love you all as well", she mumbled back. Joel glanced at her as he reached for her hand.

"You reckon we could all fit on this", you spoke up after a minute, already starting to feel tired again. "I take the left side", Ellie said quickly, once again moving closer to you. "Who said we're allowed to call dibs", Joel questioned teasingly. "You snooze, you lose", she stuck out her tongue as you brushed some of the hair away from her face. "There's plenty of space for everyone to get a cuddle", you said softly as Joel slipped behind you, your body melted into his tender chest. One of his hands sneaked behind yours so he could support Margo, who was still feasting. Joel pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Life had both taken away from him, but then gave him so much more. His other hand rested on Ellie's back protectively. This was both empowering and crippling at the same time. Between Joel's arms was his whole world. World that was made up of you three. His biggest treasure. His most prized possession.

[nothing0fnothing]

Most parents decide they're going to use their child's innate naivety and trusting nature to instill a sense of wonder. Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, mermaids are real, Disneyland. All that.

My parents used it to create an invisible panopticon that only existed in my mind so they could easily deny its existence if I reported it to anybody.

Basically, was told at a very young age, that there were tiny hidden cameras I couldn't see everywhere in my home, and in my clothes, and in my school. They gave my stepdad 24/7 round the clock acsess to view me whenever he wanted to. He said these cameras could not only record my face, voice and actions, but that they had special technology that could read and translate my very thoughts.

I was at the "mermaids and unicorns are real" age, so not only did all of this seem totally plausible, it terrified me. I was changing under the covers of my bed, worried he could see me on the toilet or in the shower, and worst of all I started monitoring and censoring my own thoughts, convinced he could hear every one of them.

My mum noticed I had started taking longer to get dressed and ready than I used to, and asked why I was wasting time trying to get dressed in bed. When I told her about the cameras she tried to convince me they weren't there, and even did a sweep of my room to prove it to me, but I didn't believe her. I thought my step dad had so much power he could even hide these mind reading micro cameras from other adults. She just kind of brushed it off, assuming this was some silly thing I'd be over in a week.

I wasn't.

He kept reminding me of them, so I continued to be scared of them.

The second time my mother heard of these invisible cameras were when another parent, concerned, told her about it.

See I'd been playing at her daughters house, and I was asking her to call my step dad to ask permission for every minor thing I did.

"Can you call my dad and ask if I'm allowed to play in the garden?" "Can you call my dad and ask if I'm allowed to watch TV?" "Can you call my dad and ask if I'm allowed ketchup on my chips?"

She would assure me she'd asked my mum and my mum said it was fine, but I was adamant it be my step father she call. Eventually, she asked me why I was so concerned about his permission to do these things I'd been doing fine every other time I'd been at her house.

"Because he's the one with the cameras."

I said it so naturally. Like every family had a parent who had the cameras and another who was under surveillance by them. I was worried that if I conveyed the frozen still fear I felt over these hidden cameras, it would seem that I had something to hide.

"There's no cameras in our house so you don't have to worry about it." She tried to convince me.

"Oh no, they're in my clothes" I said. "They're so tiny they could be in a zip or a button or on my shoe laces and nobody would know."

She was, understandably, freaked out by this.

I'm not sure if she beleived my step dad had just sent me bugged into her home like a pervert or something, but I think when I started talking about how it can hear my thoughts like a regular camera can record voices, she realised that this was something else.

My mum pretended that I'd made it up and was lying for attention, even though she knew I wasn't. She knew that her husband had been terrorising me with these fake omnipotent cameras for weeks to the point I was losing sleep and dreaming about them. It was just easier for her to paint me as some kind of freakishly and manipulative child. It was really messed up, this woman's daughter was my only friend, I'd be friendless and alone if she decided she didn't want her daughter learning this behaviour from me.

The last time it was brought up to her was by my aunt. I'd had a bonding day out with her that ended in me crying on her couch after dinner. I vented about the cameras and how much pressure they were putting on me. I said I felt scared to be out with anyone, because if my daddy was watching and he heard their thoughts and he didn't like them, he could stop them from ever seeing me again. I knew she didn't like him, and he didn't like her. All he needed was video proof that she thought bad things about him and he'd have the perfect excuse to cut her out of my life. I didn't want that, I loved my aunt dearly.

My mum tried to pull the same "oh she's just making it up for attention" bit, but my aunt knew my step dad, and she knew he was exactly crazy and twisted enough to torture me like that. She believed me over my mother, and after that I never heard about the cameras again.

Over the weeks I wasn't threatened with them, I slowly started to think about them less and less. And by the time I stopped thinking about them entirely, I'd stopped believing in tooth fairies and unicorns and high tech invisible cameras that could hear my thoughts.

I never forgot about them though.

[randoimago]

May I ask for Astarion, Wyll, Shadowheart, and Gale having a 'Wait, why am I jealous?' realization of their romantic feelings for Tav? (For the record, Tav is romantically interested in the companion, too, because I can't handle angst right now 🥲)

Realizing They Have Feelings

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): Might be tiny hints of angst just because of character backstory mentions, but I did my best with these for you!

Astarion

He doesn't get jealous. People get jealous because of him. And yet, the way he sees one of the harpers at Last Light look at you. That look of reverence for saving them.

One that almost looks at you like a god and a face that flusters when you catch their stare. Astarion, feels the twisting in his gut and it causes him to pause.

Yes he's flirted with you. He's lied and said he's into you. But now, he's not sure it's lies anymore.

And that scares him a bit. With how uncertain the future is, his survival, dealing with Cazador, well it's just a lot of uncertainty and does he even have the time to think of his feelings? Well, Astarion is nothing if not selfish.

Of course he knows your feelings towards him and that makes his admittance a bit easier on his part. The confessing about his intent on manipulating you was a bit harder to get off his tongue especially with the hurt you display.

But you accept his apology and Astarion is so lost on how an actual relationship or whatever you both have is supposed to go. But he's happy to explore it with you.

Gale

Gale flirts with you quite a bit. He doesn't even hide the fact that he finds you attractive. You have a very attractive face, why would he hide his affection? But it never really was anything beyond just simple flirtations.

And then he sees how that tiefling blacksmith smiles at you, how you smile back and he can't help pouting.

For a split second, he's a bit frightened that the weird feeling in his stomach is the orb before he sighs in relief that it's just jealousy.

And then he gets more pouty at the fact that he is jealous. Perhaps his fondness of your pretty face is about more than just your face.

It takes a bit of practicing his speech, redoing certain sections and sighing loudly at how ridiculous this is (but he also finds the amusement in it too).

Eventually, he tells you the truth of his affections. His harmless flirtations had evolved into actual romantic feelings towards you. And the brightest smile crosses his face as you return them. Now you just got to help him not explode and you'll be great.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart thought she was ready to kill Lae'zel before. But now she's hearing comments about your scent and how the gith wants to claim you.

The cleric can't help but scoff and take a sip of one of the thousands of bottles of alcohol that you have in your pack for some reason. Maybe she could throw one of the copies of Traveler's Guides books at her since you have so many copies for some reason.

What Shadowheart doesn't understand is why she's so upset. You're an adult, you can make your own decisions and enjoy yourself with whomever you wish.

And yet, you saved her. You've accepted her silence and wish to keep secrets. And it's at that moment, Shadowheart realizes that she's jealous and she can't help scoffing again because how did she get so pathetic?

She wants to stay silent, keep her feelings a secret as well, but she can't hold them back. Especially when her secrets are revealed to you and then you ask about her favorite flower of all things.

Her feelings end up coming out and instead of turning away and rejecting her (like she expected of all her reveals), you accept them as well. And even reciprocate. She's going to need another bottle of alcohol and this time, she hopes you join her in the drink.

Wyll

He's not really one for jealousy. A dash of disappointment, maybe, but he's got enough demons and devils that he doesn't need to think about the green one.

That's why whenever he sees you flirting with another, well it does give him some disappointment that perhaps he is too late due to his slow realization.

There's also some self consciousness that comes with it too. After all, Wyll isn't as charming or handsome as he once was with the new horns growing out of his head.

Still, he can't help but cherish the memories he had when asking for a dance and you agreeing.

Considering he had gotten this far with a dance, Wyll decides that he might as well tell you his feelings that have been slowly, but surely growing.

Imagine his surprise when you accept him, half-devil appearance and all. Wyll can't help finding his worries silly in hindsight, but he'll laugh at himself later. After he's had that dance.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[in1-nutshell]

How would the tfp react to the sparkling beans

I have another work that has the TFP Cons reaction to the sparklings you can visit. Now its time for these beans to meet up with the Autobots.

Hope you enjoy!

Autobots reacting to finding a pod full of sparklings

SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

TFP

For the sake of this writing, the pod crash landed outside their base after a meteor shower. Optimus and Ultra Magnus go out to retrieve the pod. Bulkhead has his wrecking ball out just in case it was another scraplet trap. No one is expecting this pod to be filled with sparklings.

Optimus Prime

Confused sparkling noises

“My children.”--Optimus

“Optimus they all can’t—”--Ratchet

“My. Children.”--Optimus

Oh, he is not expecting this. But this is a pleasant surprise. He is in love with all these little beans. He helps them out of the pod with the help of the other to make sure they are okay in the med bay. Optimus is hypervigilant of each sparkling while Ratchet is checking up on them.

Due to the amount of sparklings, and his lack of more servos, he came up with a new guardian system for the team to use for the beans.

No one is going to say no to this idea.

Prime has a habit whenever he is in the base to pick up a sparkling or two and keep them around while he does work. That doesn’t mean that work is the only thing he does around the sparklings. He finds himself telling them stories he remembers from his days as Orion Pax in the halls of Iacon.

Has given the beans a ride in his alt-mode from time to time.

Ratchet

Giggling sparkling noises.

Mother hen mode activated.

Oh, his stress levels have skyrocketed.

Not only does he have to worry about his team doing dumb things and getting hurt, now he has to worry about a bunch of literal sparklings. He needs a break, but not now, he has sparklings now.

He checks up on every single sparkling making note that they were all right and healthy. Since he spends the most time at the base, he naturally spends more time with the sparklings.

He is thankful for anyone who stays with him at the base to help with the sparklings. His back kibble sub space is usually filled with the beans. It’s easier to make sure to know where they are. Ratchet endless patience with the sparklings.

Has taken some of the sparklings around on ambulance rides when he picks up Raf when Bumblebee can’t .

Bumblebee

Beeping sparkling noises

Mimicking same beeping noises

He isn’t the youngest anymore!

He is enamored with the sparklings. He is often found cooing at them and picking them up.

Protective of his little friends. Bumblebee is the first to introduce the sparklings to the kids when they come back. Which was a story all on its own.

He takes his job as guardian seriously with the sparklings, especially if Raf is around too. It makes him one of the best babysitters on the team.

Has taken some around on rides on his alt-mode, does speed up from time to time but usually sticks to the speed limit and smooth driving.

Arcee

Sparkling noises

“…Oh Primus…”

She is having a time.

Is mentally stressing about the sparklings safety. The war is still going on and the base can only be safe if they keep it that way. Doesn’t even want to think about the sparklings getting hurt.

She isn’t the best at comfort.

But she does her best in keeping the kiddos in check and safe.

Gets Jack to help her with them. Jack is just happy to help, because he is sure that Arcee might have a mental breakdown if one of them got a tiny scrap on their knee.

Due to her vehicle mode not beginning the safest for sparkling travel, she makes up for it doing piggyback rides.

Bulkhead

Sparkling noises

“Oh, thank Primus it’s not scraplets…”

He is so relief they are not scraplets.

He wants to be around the sparklings but at the same time wants to keep his distance. Bulkhead has a track record of accidents that happen due to him being a klutz.

Thanks to Miko’s help he does find a way to keep an optic on the sparklings and still being safe around them.

The first on is that he has to sit down with his backside against the wall and have the sparklings around his lap. That way he can tell stories and act as a jungle gym at the same time.

The other option is having them inside his alt-mode while driving.

He takes caution with the sparklings inside, meaning no dune bashing.

Wheeljack

Sparkling noises

“I want this one.”--Wheeljack

“Wheeljack—”--Ratchet

“Meet Jackie jr.”--Wheeljack

He likes sparklings.

Might have come as a surprise to the others but it wasn’t at the same time. Wheeljack has had experience with kids in the past and he is a good babysitter. One of the best in the entire team.

Reason 1, he knows his strengths and won’t accidentally step on one of them. He gets a lot of ‘uppises’ requests.

Reason 2, he can entertain the sparklings for hours with fun harmless science experiments. They have to be runned by the Doc first. The last time he didn’t do that he ended up with wrench marks at his helm as he was teaching the youngsters how to make a grenade.

Reason 3, he has plenty of stories to share, while keeping them all G rated. He is not dumb enough to tell them what actually happened, he still wouldn’t tell them even if they were older.

Wheeljack has been known to steal certain sparklings and take them out on trips in the Jackhammer or in his alt-mode.

Smokescreen

“Hi there little guy!”--Smokescreen

“Smokescreen you’re holding them upside down!”—Ratchet

He is too excited to see the sparklings.

He had never seen a sparkling before, so this was a special moment. Smokescreen is always the first to volunteer to take care the sparklings.

Loves the feeling of being looked up to and lives for it. He wants to be a good role model for them and tries his best.

He does sometimes forget where he might have put a sparkling here and there but that usually happens when he takes too many sparklings that he can handle. Thankfully for the most part he does remember in the end where he put them, or Bumblebee finds them before he can.

Why is it always Bumblebee who finds them, not even he knows why.

He is banned from taking the sparklings out in his alt-mode after speeding too much.

Ultra magnus

Sparkling noises

“I am going to read the entire Autobot code to them when its bedtime.”—Ultra Magnus

He has done this. Wheeljack walked in on him doing this and claimed to the others that he was torturing them with cruel and unusual punishment.

Magnus is not amused.

He is one of the best babysitters on the team besides Wheeljack and Bumblebee. Magnus knows how to be gentle and careful with smaller beings. After all he has had a lot of practice due to his tall stature on Cybertron and on Earth.

He can get the little beans to sleep faster than anyone else. Does not matter if they had a tiring day or are still full of energy, he can make them fall asleep in record time.

He likes to talk to them as if they were fully grown Cybertronians and has held interesting conversations with them. Secretly has a data pad full of the things the sparklings like and dislike.

He has taken a few sparklings out of the base at night and driven around the base to help them sleep better.

[g1rld1ary]

do i make you nervous? - elle greenaway x fem!reader

cw: she/her pronouns, typical cm violence, petnames

wc: 1115

being stuck in a police station for six hours was not on your bingo card for the day. to be fair, it wasn't really on the bingo card for your year either. you were a good girl, you never broke the rules, you certainly didn't break the law. so, you'd never pictured yourself needing to be trapped under fluorescent lights waiting to talk to police officers, except for your bad luck in being caught in an almost violent bank hold-up.

not only that, of the many witnesses you were probably last in line, having to wait through hours of people going in and out of the tiny interview room. most of them left in tears, which really wasn't helping your nerves.

you'd resigned to your daydreams to pass the time; you'd finished the book from your purse hours ago and you could only play snake for so long. that was why you jumped violently when a hand lay on your shoulder, ripping you from your daydream. above you, the prettiest woman you'd ever seen was trying to hold back a laugh.

"i didn't mean to scare you," she said, and you found yourself smiling back at her. "just wanted to check if you wanted some water, pretty girl." sure enough she had offered a plastic cup toward you. you stared at it for a second before remembering your manners.

"oh! thanks, that's really nice of you." the woman shook her head.

"least we could do after keeping you here for so long. you come get me if you need anything else." you managed to nod and produce what you hoped was a smile despite your daze at the gorgeous woman.

you only waited for twenty more minutes after that before a man came out to get you.

"i'm derek morgan, special agent in the FBI. we just want to ask you some questions. i know the interrogation room looks scary, but we promise you're not in trouble. we just have to take what we can get in a precinct this small."

"i don't think anyone anticipated having this many witnesses in at once," you added, finding it much easier to talk to derek than the woman before. you didn't want to think about why that was.

it was straight to business once in the interrogation room. it was cold, like all the life had been sucked out of it. if you weren't already scared of the law you would have gone straight to avoid needing to return.

inside the room was the woman from before. you sucked in a nervous breath as you sat across from her, trying to split your looks evenly between her and morgan.

the woman finally introduced herself as ssa elle greenaway, and shook your hand in a way that had you weak in the knees. after the basic formalities, the two started asking you questions.

"alright, we'll start easy and warm you up to it. why were you at the bank this morning?"

"i'm moving into my first apartment in a few weeks. i lived on campus all of college and then stayed with my parents for a year or two as i was getting my career started. because i have no history of renting i had to sort out some papers and records with the bank and lucky me i chose today." both the agents made noises of sympathy.

"congratulations on moving out," elle said warmly, "too bad it's delayed by some maniac. do you remember seeing him walk in?"

you recounted the day in as much detail as you could remember, staring at your hands as you spoke. you were so anxious. all you could feel were eyes; morgan, elle, and you didn't know how many people could be observing you from behind the mirror. that, plus the trauma of being threatened with a gun hours before caught up to you all at once and you couldn't help the hot tears sitting on your waterline. both agents stopped at that, giving you a breather.

"morgan, think you can give us a minute?" elle said, not taking her eyes off of you. derek raised an eyebrow but agreed nonetheless, leaving the two of you alone.

elle grabbed your hands, holding them in hers over the table between you.

"let's slow down, just breathe, pretty girl." she forced you into silence for a few moments and you let your breathing fall into sync with hers.

"sorry," you said when you were mostly calm, "i'm really nervous."

"you've got nothing to be nervous about, baby, you haven't done anything wrong." god, you wanted to combust. this stunning woman was being so nice, holding your hands and calling you pet names, you couldn't handle it. she must have noticed your eyes trained on where you hands met -- unsurprising, you weren't being subtle -- and her soft expression turned into something of a smirk. "do i make you nervous?"

you nodded, almost imperceptibly, but elle's eyes were only on you. she couldn't contain her amusement, and you couldn't tell if you were offended that she was teasing you.

the rest of the interview was easier after elle knew the effect she had on you, eventually leaving derek as the sole agent when it got down to the facts you really needed to think about. although you knew it was necessary for the sake of the case, you were upset it meant you couldn't admire her more.

"we'll call you if we need anything else." derek walked you to the door, all smiles. you thanked him and assured him you'd be willing to give whatever the FBI needed.

just as you were descending the outdoor steps to the car park, you heard a heavy set of footsteps behind you. turning quickly, you were relieved to see elle following you. you gripped the strap of your purse nervously as you waited for her to speak.

"if you think of anything else, anything else you wanted to tell me, just reach out," she said, handing you a card. just as you opened your mouth to thank her she spoke again, "maybe you can start with where you got your jeans, your ass is irresistible." you could feel your flush hot on your cheeks as you mumbled some sort of goodbye, all but running to your car to scream.

safely at home, you could think more clearly, not hesitating to start composing a text message, including the brand of your jeans with a cheeky smiley face.

[watchmegetobsessed]

PARENT TRAP

A/N: single dad harry is finally here! it took me sooo long to finish this, but its finally done! so i hope you'll like it!

WORD COUNT: 16k

WARNING: sexual content, divorce

SUMMARY: Harry has been crushing on the mother of her daughter's classmate and now that she has divorced, a bake sale finally brings them together.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harlow is excitedly humming along to the music that’s flowing from the radio, her legs dangling from the seat, her curly ponytail bouncing with every move of her head as she follows the beat perfectly. Her daddy keeps glancing back at her through the mirror, his smile stretching wider and wider every time she gets more into the song, turning the ride to school into her own private concert. 

The little girl’s love for music is no surprise, seeing that her dad is a musician. Harry introduced her to the magical world of music way before she was even born. When she was a baby, there were only two things that could calm her down and end any tantrum she threw: her daddy’s singing and Stevie Nicks’ singing. All tears dried up in an instant as soon as she heard her favorite songs. 

It's the first day of school, Harlow is starting second grade and Harry is letting her out of his hold with a heavy heart, though it’s definitely easier than last year. Summer was filled with adventures, giggles and endless hot days spent together. Thanks to Harry’s flexible work schedule he could prioritize his most precious treasure while school was out, his daughter. Harlow spent two weeks with her mother in Chicago, Harry used that time to work like a maniac and make time for all the summer fun for him and his little princess. 

Now everything is back to its usual way, Harlow will spend her weekdays in school and Harry will return to the studio like it’s a nine to five job. 

He rolls into the school’s parking lot that’s filled with cars, parents dropping off the kids before heading into the office, so most of them are dressed nicely, while Harry is more on the comfortable side in his light-washed jeans, simple t-shirt and knitted cardigan. He has no reason to show up in a suit to record all day in the studio, staring at the panels, directing whatever singer he is working with for the day. 

“Alright, end of show,” he chuckles, turning the radio off and getting out he rounds the car to help Harlow out of her seat.

She is wearing her favorite pink dress with her new sneakers and backpack and Harry’s chest swells with pride as he watches her jump out of the car and twirl around in excitement. They walk to the entrance hand in hand, Harlow asks Harry about what’s gonna be for dinner and he promises her to make her favorite if she’ll be a good girl in school.

Students from first to fourth grade usually gather in front of the building, the teachers wait for them in the morning and they go inside together. Harry spots Harlow’s teacher, circled by a few students already, so he knows it’s time to say goodbye.

Squatting down in front of her he fixes her ponytail and then he gathers her small hands in his big ones.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?”

“Can we get ice-cream on the way home?” she suggests with a cheeky smile, that never fails to warm Harry’s heart.

“Only if you–”

“If I’m a good girl today, I know!” she sighs dramatically. “I will be good, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” he smiles. “Come here, give me a hug.”

Harlow happily throws her arms around her daddy’s neck as he embraces her in a tight hug, breathing in her sweet scent, he presses a few kisses on top of her head before finally letting her go.

“Have a great day, I love you!” he calls out as Harlow is already walking over to her classmates.

“Love you too!” she sings back with a wave and then she is busy greeting her friends she didn’t see all summer. 

Harry stands there for a bit longer, watching his daughter in complete awe. He can’t believe the tiny baby he held in his arms on the day she was born is not such an independent, smart little girl. She’s only seven, but she’s taught him so many things, he’ll be forever grateful for her. 

“Dylan, wait!” a familiar, stressed voice hits his ears and looking to his right he is witnessing another morning scene, but it’s definitely different from the one he just got to experience with Harlow.

A boy, who is around twelve years old, dressed in all black with his hoodie covering his head is marching away, but he is stopped by the request from his mother behind him, who is busy with a smaller girl.

Harry knows the woman and the little girl too, because it’s Robin, Harlow’s classmate and her mother, Y/N. He remembers, because she caught his eyes straight away at the first parents’ meeting last year. Y/N is the kind of woman who is always so put together, looks stunning, like the CEO of a very important business, but there’s also an exceptional warmth that lingers around her, that makes Harry think that she is an excellent and loving mother to her kids. 

Harry could feel himself crush on her the moment she walked into Harlow’s classroom in her pants suit and took a seat near his. He kept looking her way and felt like a school boy all over again.

This morning however, Y/N looks different. She is still gorgeous, don’t get Harry wrong, but something is off about her. She’s in a simple black dress, her attire is spotless as always, but it appears like she’s lost some weight, there are circles under her eyes and he can tell she’s been going through a stressful period probably.

Dylan, the boy, stops with an eye-roll, but doesn’t face his mother who is currently struggling to get Robin to put on her backpack properly. 

“Honey, please! I can’t carry it up to the classroom for you!” Y/N begs and the girl whines before eventually taking the straps over her shoulders. Y/N lets out a relieved sigh, fixing her shirt before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Have a good day, I’ll pick you up after school, okay?”

“Okay,” she nods before running off to join her friends. Y/N then steps over to Dylan. They are standing just a few feet away from Harry, so he can hear their conversation, and though he knows he shouldn’t be listening in on them, he just can’t help it. 

“How long are you gonna be grumpy?” she asks, walking around the boy to look at him. She reaches out to fix the zipper on his hoodie, but he yanks away from her touch. Harry sees the hurt on her face, but she is great at masking it.

“Can I go?” Dylan asks, not even looking at his mom.

“Can I get a hug?”

“Mom, no!” he whines. “My friends are over there!”

“And you think they don’t hug their mom?”

“Not in public!” he retorts. Y/N clenches her jaw and decides to just let it go.

“Alright. I’ll pick you and Robin up after school, okay? Have a good day.”

“Bye,” he mumbles and walks over to his group of friends without even looking at his mother.

Y/N stands there and Harry could feel her disappointment and sadness, even as an outsider. It seems like Dylan has just reached the gates of puberty, which came with an immense amount of hate towards his parents, or at least his mother. His heart breaks for her, because something is telling him she did nothing to deserve to be treated like this, but pre-teens are just impossible sometimes. 

For a moment he thinks about walking up to her and asking if she’s okay, but right when the thought is about to turn into action, she looks down at her watch and realizes how late it is.

“Oh shit,” she mumbles and turning around she runs back to her car, jumps in and drives away in a hurry. 

Harry glances at the kids one last time, they are heading inside and he spots Harlow with Robin. He smiles and then slowly walks back to his car.

Of course, Harlow gets ice-cream when Harry picks her up after school. They stop by the park too and then head home to make dinner. She tells him all about her day and while Harry cooks she is on FaceTime with Frankie, her mom. 

Co-parenting is now as easy as breathing air, they’ve been doing it for almost five years now. People tend to find it odd that Harlow lives with her dad and visits Frankie three times a year for longer periods, once in the summer, once in winter break and once in the spring usually. Between these occasions Frankie tends to visit too on weekends whenever she has the time. 

She is a doctor, her working hours are crazy and she knew it well when she and Harry decided to part ways. Harry has always been the flexible one and they both knew he would be more stable when it comes to raising Harlow. 

They might not be married anymore, but they still have love for each other and want to focus on what matters: Harlow.

“Daddy, here,” she runs into the kitchen with Harry’s phone in hand.

“Thank you, Love. Put it on the table, please. Food is almost ready.”

“Dad, did you and mom get a divorce?” she asks, taking her usual seat at the dining table, waiting for her dinner patiently. Harry stops for a moment, afraid where this might go, but he promised himself to always be honest with her.

“Yes. Years ago. Why?”

“Robin said her parents got a divorce too.”

His ears perk up, remembering the scene he witnessed this morning. He grabs two plates and pills them with pasta.

“Really? Is she sad about it?”

“Kind of. She’s just sad her dad moved out. She said her brother wanted to live with him, but their mom didn’t let him.”

“Hmm, I’m sure she has her reasons,” he says, placing the food on the table as he joins her. “So they are living with their mom now?”

“Yeah. Their dad visits every second weekend.”

“That sounds great.”

A divorce would very well explain the change he noticed about Y/N. The weightloss, the stress on her face, the circles under her eyes, it must have been challenging, managing a divorce and adjusting to becoming a single parent. Harry can’t help, but wonder what resulted in the end of her marriage. 

“Be nice to Robin, okay? She is going through a tough time,” he softly says.

“We’re friends,” Harlow smiles proudly.

“You are? That’s great,” he smiles back and leaning over he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. 

That night, when Harlow is sleeping Harry can’t help but let his curiosity take over. Sitting by his desk he pulls up the list of Harlow’s classmate’s names the teacher sent out last year and he looks up Robin’s name, her mom’s name and phone number next to it. Every parent got this list for emergencies, but Harry now uses it for something entirely different. 

He types Y/N’s name into the search bar and scrolls through the results. Not everything is relevant, but a few links down he finds an article from last year that mentions her name and when he opens it he is met with a photo of her, so he knows he is at the right place. Harry finds out that she is an architect and she worked on some quite prestigious projects in the past, she is obviously good at what she is doing. 

He falls down the rabbithole and looks up anything he can find about her. She has an introduction page on her company’s website, then he finds himself hopping over to social media and though it takes some time, he manages to find an Instagram page that, for his luck, is public. There are just a handful of photos from the past six years, but Harry thoroughly examines them all.

Y/N with a group of her friends, old pictures of Robin from when she was a toddler, but her face is never revealed, Dylan is seen in some too, there are some pictures of a lake and the same two dogs a few times and Harry wonders if they are hers or maybe a relative’s. A couple of selfies where she looks just as gorgeous as now and then there are the pictures with her husband.

Or ex husband, to be exact. 

There are only three pictures, one at what appeared to be a wedding, one at some kind of dinner and one with the kids. It’s the last one where he is pictured and it’s from over a year ago. No trace of the man since then, and she doesn’t have a lot of other photos either, she hasn’t updated her profile in what appears to be months. 

Harry is not quite the nosy type, but this time, he is dying to know more about Y/N and the lack of information is eating him away. He goes back and forth between the pictures where she can be seen and the longer he is staring at them the more he wants to know. 

He is not an expert in social media, so as he is stalking her profile he accidentally taps on the follow button and when he realizes, his stomach drops. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out and his first instinct is to unfollow her, but he knows that she probbaly has the notification sitting on her lockscreen, so there’s no use. At last, he just curses himself out and accepts it. 

To stop himself from making it worse, he goes offline and gets ready to go to bed so he doesn’t feel like absolute shit in the morning. His phone lies discarded on his nightstand in the meantime and he doesn’t notice the new notification until he is in bed and wants to set an alarm for the morning. He’s surprised to see a notification from Instagram about a new follower.

Y/N has followed him back.

Reuniting with Harlow in the afternoon is Harry’s favorite part of the day. Seeing his little girl running towards him and jumping into his arms is something he wishes to experience every day for the rest of his life, though he knows these occasions are numbered so he is drinking up every moment of it. 

Today is no different, Harlow starts sprinting towards Harry the moment she spots him, a toothy grin stretched across her rosy cheeks as she practically smashes against her daddy.

“Hi dad!” she giggles as he lifts her up from the ground easily, holding her in one arm, his free hand taking her backpack off her shoulders. He doesn’t notice, but some moms around them yearningly watch as he holds his daughter with ease, some are having gentle thoughts about their father-daughter bond, but some are definitely hiding dirty fantasies about the single dad who is a well-liked figure among the mothers. Most of the time Harry doesn’t even process the stares he gets, and when he does, he chooses to ignore them.

“Hey Princess, how was your day?” he asks, carrying her towards the car. 

“Good. How was your day?” she asks back.

“I missed you,” he sighs dramatically, earning a kiss on the cheek from the girl in his arm.

“Do you just sit around all day and miss me?” she sassily asks and Harry barks out a laugh as he puts her down so she can climb into the car.

“That’s exactly what I do while you’re at school,” he grins, strapping her in before taking his seat behind the wheel.

“Oh, I have news for you, dad,” Harlow announces, as they are slowly inching their way out of the full parking lot.

“Yeah? Tell me!”

“We’re having a bake sale soon and I signed you up!”

“Oh, wow!” he smiles. He doesn’t mind helping out and baking is actually a hobby of his.

“And this year parents are pairing up for it so I signed you up with Robin’s mom!” she adds and Harry almost steps on the break hearing this little detail. 

“Robin’s mom? Really?” he asks with wide eyes.

“Yeah,” she nods, oblivious to why her dad is so shocked about it. 

Harry thinks about how he followed her on Instagram the other day, the panic he felt and then seeing her follow him back even though they haven’t really talked, he faintly remembers them exchanging a few words at a parents’ meeting, but nothing more. Now they will have to bake together. 

It will either go painfully awkwardly, or something good might come out of it. He’ll have to wait and see.

He is in the studio when he gets a text from a number he doesn’t recognize. He sees the screen lighting up, but he is in the middle of a session so he discards it until they go on a short break. When he finally has the time to have a look at it, excitement rushes through his veins.

UNKNOWN: Hey! It’s Y/N, Robin’s mom from Harlow’s class. Apparently we were signed up together to bake for the bake sale. Maybe we could meet up for a coffee sometime to plan out what we’re gonna do!

Harry is quick to type a response back.

HARRY: Sure! I’m flexible, whenever it’s good for you, I’ll make it work!

He doesn’t expect a fast reply since he didn’t answer straight away and he imagines she’s busy at work, but his phone lights up just seconds later.

Y/N: Great! :) Tomorrow at one?

HARRY: Perfect. :)

They exchange a few more texts about the place and then the conversation ends, they both go back to their day. And Harry is looking forward to meeting her as if it was Christmas coming up.

It’s not a date.

He keeps reminding himself, but it feels like he is getting ready for a date. The first one in what feels like a century. It’s also his first crush, dating and pursuing women in general hasn’t been on his agenda since before he started dating Frankie, which was over a decade ago. Even after his marriage ended, he was so focused on Harlow and his work that he simply didn’t have time to meet women and go out on dates. 

But this is not a date.

He is just meeting a woman for coffee to talk about baking. 

He leaves the studio a little earlier than needed so he is not late. The café they chose is near Y/N’s workplace, since she only has an hour to spare before she needs to be in a meeting. Walking in he scans over the menu and orders a simple black coffee along with two muffins before taking a seat at a table.

Y/N arrives not even five minutes later. She strolls in wearing a blue pants suit, her purse in one hand, phone in the other as she looks around and eventually spots Harry.

“Hi! Have you been here for long?” she asks, checking the time, but she arrived perfectly on time.

“No, just a few minutes,” Harry smiles at her standing up from the table to greet her, though there’s a pause as neither of them knows how to. Handshake? Kiss on the cheek? Hug? 

At last they meet for a short, kind of half hug before she sets her purse down on the other chair.

“I’ll get a coffee and then we can talk.”

Harry watches her walk up to the counter, she asks for a latte and then types away on her phone while waiting. She looks a tiny bit more collected than the last time he saw her, but he can tell she’s had less stressful days before. When she returns to the table she places her phone facing down and turns all of her attention to Harry.

“Harry, I’ll be honest with you, I’m terrible at baking,” she admits first thing with a chuckle. 

“Well, then we might be a great duo, because I’m actually pretty good at it.”

“Oh, then you’re my hero,” she chuckles. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t the happiest when Robin said she signed me up, life has been… a bit hectic lately, baking stands after the last thing on my list,” she huffs. “But I’m glad I don’t have to do it alone,” she adds with a small smile. 

“It’ll be fun! The girls can have a playdate in the meantime.”

“Ah, that would be amazing,” she sighs in relief. “When is the bake sale?” 

“Um, on the tenth, in two weeks, I think.”

“Alright, I guess we should make everything fresh, right?”

“That would be ideal,” he nods.

“Great. Would you mind it if we did it at my place? I don’t have anywhere to put my son and I really don’t want to leave him home alone,” she sighs.

“Sure, no problem.”

“I promise I have everything we need despite my poor baking skills,” she jokes. “But Dylan is…”

“Y/N, no need to explain. I’m happy to go over so you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Thank you.”

They discuss what they plan to bake and what ingredients they’ll need and how they will split the shopping part. Harry finds it that Y/N is easy to talk to and she tries her best to be flexible and work together with him the best way possible.

“Okay, so muffins, chocolate chip cookies and brownies it is. We’re playing it safe,” she chuckles, summarizing their plan. “Gosh, muffins used to be Dylan’s favorite, but I feel like he would scream at me if I gave them any,” she huffs and Harry notices the sadness that flashes through her face.

“Um, I’m not trying to be nosy and we practically just met, but Harlow mentioned that Robin told her you just got divorced? I’m sure it’s been a tough time and I’m sorry too, going through a divorce is challenging even if you part ways in peace.”

The smile fades from her lips as she looks down at her drink with a tiny nod.

“You’re divorced too?” she asks.

“Yeah.”

She stays silent and stares into her drink that’s half empty by now. Folding her arms over her chest she lets out a shaky breath.

“Does it get better?” she asks and there’s so much behind those simple words and Harry can feel the weight of them. Harry reaches over and places a warm hand on her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It does. I know it seems like you’re stuck now, or even going backwards, but you’ll get through it.”

Their eyes meet and hold each other’s gaze for a few heartbeats and in that moment they both leave that café and enter somewhere safe and hopeful. Then the barista calls out someone’s name for their order and the moment is gone. Harry clears his throat and busies himself with his empty cup before they venture to another, lighter topic. 

They sit around for a little longer, just like two friends talking over a nice coffee, but then it’s time for Y/N to go back to the office.

“Harry, it’s been so nice! I’m not really friends with any of the moms from Robin’s class, but I feel like we’ll be a good team,” she smirks as Harry opens the door for her and they step out of the café.

“I’m not really friends with anyone either,” he smiles softly.

“What? I thought moms are fighting for your attention,” she barks out a laugh, but Harry just furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head as he looks back at her. “Come on, you’re known as the hot dad around school grounds.”

His eyebrows raise at her blunt comment and she realizes he’s been truly oblivious to the stares and whispers behind his back from mothers that don’t get what they want from their husband. 

“Oh wow, sorry, this is awkward now,” she chuckles nervously, realizing it might have been weird to hear it.

“No worries, I was just… not aware that I’m even known,” he chuckles. 

“You haven’t noticed the stares? Mothers ogle you like crazy whenever you pick Harlow up.”

“I’m usually more focused on her,” he admits bashfully. “So I’m the hot dad. Good to know.”

It’s obvious that Y/N feels awkward that she was the one who delivered the news to him, but Harry finds it cute, the way she bites into her bottom lip.

“I really need to get back now. I’ll see you soon, I guess,” she switches quickly, checking the time. 

“Sure, have a great day, Y/N,” he smiles and he pulls her into a short hug before they part ways. 

Harry thinks about how it felt like when she was pressed up against his chest, even if it was just for one second.

“Okay, I might have gone a little overboard with the decoration,” Harry admits, as Y/N is inspecting the millions of sprinkles, candies and chocolate chips on the counter, laughing happily like a little kid.

“No, this is amazing!” she chuckles. “They will turn out amazing!”

Harry blushes and he’s glad she doesn’t find it weird how overboard he went with the shopping. He’s been looking forward to their work together, mostly because he couldn’t wait to see Y/N again, but he was also excited about the baking part. 

Harlow and Robin are in the living room, watching The Little Mermaid and playing, Dylan is hiding somewhere in his bedroom and the adults are taking over the kitchen. Y/N is in a more casual outfit, but she still took his breath away when she opened the door and welcomed them. In a pair of loose jeans and a simple, gray sweater, she still looks incredibly stylish and put-together. 

“Alright, you’re the boss today, I’m just assisting,” she smiles, one hand on her hip, the other one on the counter. Harry thinks about how badly he wants to grab her by her waist and pull her in for a kiss, so he gulps hard, forcing himself to focus on the baking. 

“Okay. Then let’s start with the cookies.”

They find their rhythm easily, Harry is moving around in her kitchen as if it’s not his first time here and Y/N does everything he asks her perfectly. They are, indeed, an amazing team. While they work they talk and laugh and have a blast, as if they’ve been good friends since forever.

When it’s time to decorate they ask the girls to help them and they happily cover everything in sprinkles, going all out with the supplies Harry bought. 

Once everything is done, they box them up so they can easily take them to the school tomorrow. It’s still not too late and the girls are having so much fun that the parents decide to let the playdate last a little longer, so they share some iced tea and have a chat sitting by the kitchen island. It’s all fun and joy until Dylan comes down to drink something. He marches into the kitchen, ees glued to the ground, ignoring everyone else as he walks over to the fridge.

“Dylan, say hi to Harry. You didn’t even come down to greet our guests,” Y/N tells him, earning the most annoyed groan Harry has ever heard. 

The boy stops and turns around standing like a stone, clearly irritated that someone even said a word to him. 

“Hi,” he grumbles before turning back to the fridge right away to grab himself a can of coke.

“Dylan, no coke after six, you know the rule,” Y/N warns him, to which he just tosses the can back and slams the fridge shut. 

Harry can feel the tension spiking and he’s quietly observing the scene in front of him.

“Drink some water, or there’s some tea left in the–”

“I don’t want tea or water, I want coke!” he whines. “Dad lets me drink coke whenever I want!”

“Well, then I’ll need to have a chat with your father,” Y/N comments under her breath. “Water, Dylan. Drink water,” she repeats, the boy rolls his eyes and grabs a bottle of water before storming out of the kitchen. “God, this is a disaster, I’m sorry,” she groans, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“No need to apologize. You both are going through a tough time.”

“But it feels way worse than what I was expecting. I knew it would be hard, but… And Will is absolutely no partner in the process, he is trying to play the victim, like I’m the monster for destroying our family when he is the one who fuck three women in the past two years.”

Harry’s eyes widen at the blunt information about her marriage and though he never met this Will guy, he knows he is a total idiot. He has to be if he cheated on a woman like Y/N with three different women.

“Wow, that sounds… awful,” Harry admits truthfully. “How did you… May I ask how you found out?”

“He accidentally paid for a romantic getaway with the wrong card and I saw everything he paid for, the hotel, the food and drinks and of course, the couple's massage. He was supposed to be at a conference that weekend. I did some digging after that and then confronted him. He tried to deny it, but it’s hard to play innocent when I have proof. He moved out the next day and I filed for a divorce a week later. This was in January, but it got official in the summer.”

“What took so long?”

“He’s been a real bitch about it,” she rolls her eyes. “He really tried to make it look like I threw him out heartlessly and he was convinced he deserves a second chance. Maybe I would have considered it if it was just a one time thing. But it was several women on several occasions. This was not just a slip up, he came home these past two years knowing damn well that he chose to do this. Of course I don’t want anything to do with him after that.”

“Understandable,” Harry nods in agreement.

“Well, he thinks otherwise and it’s been his hobby to make me miserable. We agreed not to tell the kids what he did, I don’t want them to turn against him, he’s still their father, but apparently, Will is not mature enough to do the same. He’s been trying to lure the kids closer to him and away from me, so he is the ultimate good cop. He lets them do anything and everything, pizza for breakfast, candies all the time, he takes them to every damn movie they wanna see, and then I’m the bad one who tries to regulate their fun.”

“I assume Dylan prefers to be with his dad.”

“Of course,” she rolls her eyes again, clearly frustrated over the situation, but there’s not much she can do about it. “I’m suddenly the enemy. Dylan only knows that we decided to get a divorce, but he doesn’t know why. All he experiences is his dad being the coolest guy ever and his mom being a bitter bitch,” she groans and looking down at her drink she obviously wishes it had alcohol in it. “Sometimes I just wanna tell him how big of an asshole his dad is, but I’m really trying to be the bigger person here,” she sighs.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” is all Harry could say. 

“It’s not your fault,” she shrugs with a soft, but tired smile. “How about you?”

“Me?”

“You’re divorced as well, right? How did that go?”

“Oh, it was surprisingly peaceful. It was a mutual decision, we fell out of love. If I’m being honest, we rushed into that marriage way too fast.”

“So you’re on good terms?”

“Yeah. We try to make it work, focus on Harlow and what’s best for her.”

“That must be amazing, being partners even when you’re not married anymore,” she sighs dreamily. “I never thought I would say something like this, but I’m jealous of your divorce!” she chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’ll get easier. He can’t be an asshole forever, it’s too tiring,” he jokes.

“Oh, you don’t know Will. Being an asshole is in his genes,” she snorts with a laugh.

The bake sale is always a big success and this is Harry’s first time as a seller. Now that Y/N has pointed it out for him that other moms usually ogle him, he can actively feel the stares on him, so it could easily be an awkward event for him, but he is focusing on Y/N next to him behind their little stand. Their baked goods are selling great, especially the brownies, so they clear their stand in no time, just lingering around, socializing with the other parents though when no one is listening they agree that it’s not really their crowd. 

“Maybe we should open a bakery,” Harry jokes as they are packing up their stand at the end of the bake sale. 

“You should, but I’m not sure I should leave my career for baking,” she chuckles.

“What are you talking about? You were great at measuring the ingredients,” he smirks, bumping his hip against his. 

“Alright, okay, I’ll join you,” she smiles bashfully. 

Harry helps with the now empty boxes, loading them into Y/N’s car and they call out for the girls who are running around in front of the building, letting them know it’s time to leave. All he can think about is how this could be the last time he is seeing Y/N for a long time and that he wants to spend more time with her. If he had the guts he would ask her out, but he’s not even sure if she’s ready to date or even wants to date at this point.

“Um, maybe we could have playdates more often. The girls seem to be good friends,” Harry suggests, glancing over at Robin and Harlow, who are making their way towards the cars, still playing around happily.

“Sure! That sounds great, I’m sure they’ll be happy to spend more time together,” she nods smiling. 

“And you know, if you need help with anything, you can call me. I know how hard it is to do it all alone, I’m happy to help, even if it’s just maybe picking Robin up. I’m always the one getting Harlow, it’s no big deal if I take them both.”

“Really?” she asks and he can see the gratitude in her eyes.

“Of course.”

“That would be… amazing, thank you!” 

She surprises him with a warm, friendly hug and he can feel that they’ve just gotten closer to each other in every kind of way. It’s a tiny, fleeting moment, but it burns into Harry’s memories probably forever.

They don’t talk for a couple of days, carrying on with their separate lives. It’s about a week later when Y/N calls Harry in the middle of the day, luckily, he can pick it up right away.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, leaning against the wall in the studio’s hallway. 

“Hey, um…Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure, of course!”

“Can you pick Robin up today? I have a little situation with Dylan and I’m not sure I’ll make it in time to pick her up.”

“No worries, but is everything alright?”

“Not really,” she sighs. “He got into a fight today and Will picked him up, because I couldn’t answer the phone when the school called me, so I need to get him now from his father.”

“Oh, I see. Don’t worry about Robin, the girls will be just fine while you focus on Dylan. Do you want me to drop her off at yours when you’re home?”

“No, I’ll just pick her up, don’t want you to drive her around, you’re already doing me a huge favor.”

“You sure? It’s no problem.”

“Positive,” she chuckles softly. “Thank you Harry.”

Harry wishes it wasn’t an emergency that connected them again, but he’s glad Y/N felt safe enough to reach out to him when she needed help. When he’s done with work he heads to the school as usual, but this time, two little chatty girls end up on the backseat of the car.

“Is Robin sleeping over tonight?” Harlow asks in excitement.

“No, Honey. Her mom will pick her up later.”

“Why couldn’t she pick me up?” Robin asks, but she doesn’t seem disappointed that her mother was absent.

“Something came up, but everything is alright, don’t worry. You guys can work on your homework together.”

The girls are being angels, Harry cuts some apples for them while they work on their homework by the kitchen island while he starts preparing for dinner. He has just set the table when he sees a car pulling up on their driveway and Harry watches Y/N walk up to their front door.

“Hi,” he greets her, opening the door for her before she could even ring the doorbell. 

“Hi, I hope it’s not too late,” she breathes out, stepping inside.

“No, don’t worry about it. The girls finished their homework, we were just about to have dinner, want to stay?”

“Would love to, but Dylan is in the car and I’m not sure I can get him out of there,” she sighs, shaking her head. “But thank you so much for everything, Harry. You saved me.”

“No problem, I told you, I’m happy to help.”

Robin says goodbye to Harlow and Y/N grabs her backpack as they head out to the car. She runs ahead while Y/N turns back to Harry one last time.

“Dylan is spending the weekend with Will. Maybe we could meet up with the girls? We like to go to the park on Saturday.”

“That sounds amazing,” Harry nods, excited to have the opportunity to see her again soon.

“Okay, then I’ll text you later. And again, thank you,” she repeats herself before pulling him into a quick hug. He doesn’t even have the time to put his arms around her before she’s already jogging towards the car.

He leans against the doorframe and Harlow runs up next to him, waving at them as the car backs out of the driveway, Dylan sitting in the back with the most hurt look Harry has ever seen while Robin is happily waving back at her friend. Y/N smiles at Harry through the window one last time before they roll down the street and disappear.

“Here,” Harry softly hands Y/N her coffee as he returns to the park from the café across the road. 

“Thank you, how much–”

“Don’t even try to pay me back,” he chuckles as he sits on the bench beside her, taking a sip from his simple, black coffee. The girls are taking over the playground, it’s a beautiful day and Harry is glad Harlow can spend so much time outside. 

“So, do you want to talk about what happened this week?” Harry carefully asks. He doesn’t want to be nosy, just trying to be the support Y/N might need, though he is also dying to know more about her, regarding anything in her life.

Y/N exhales slowly, her eyes following the girls around as she fidgets with the lid of her coffee cup.

“Dylan apparently got into a fight at school. No one really saw what happened, the teacher just caught him punching another boy. He was sent to the principal and then they tried to call me to pick him up, because they decided to send him home for the rest of the day. But I was in a meeting and couldn’t answer, so they called Will. He then went in, the principal told him what happened and that Dylan might have to see the school’s advisor a few times after the incident. Will then took him home and when I called him on my way from work he basically said that I’m a terrible mother, because I wasn’t available when my son needed me.”

Harry can feel his anger rising, but he bites his tongue and lets Y/N finish before he puts in his two cents. 

“It was just thirty minutes. Thirty minutes later I was already sprinting out of work, I don’t think that’s too late, of course I can’t drop everything instantly, I have a job and a boss, I can’t just come and go whenever I want to!”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Y/N.”

“Right?” She sighs. “Anyway, I went to Will’s, fully prepared to have a talk with Dylan about his actions, I had a little speech ready and all that. Then I arrived and I ended up being lectured! This… fucker… had the nerve to lash out on me for not answering the phone when the school called me, he was praising himself for dropping everything instantly and picking Dylan up right away. It’s easy to do that when you’re your own boss in a business that barely makes any profit,” she scoffs. “We got into a fight, Dylan heard most of it and all he understood was that I apparently made a mistake so now he wants to spend every weekend with Will.”

“Can he do that? I mean, don’t you have an agreement?”

“I was stupid enough not to limit how much Will can see them, I thought I was doing the right thing, but it’s biting me in the ass.”

“So what are you gonna do now?”

“I have no idea,” she chuckles bitterly. “If I keep Dylan away from his dad he’ll just hate me more. But if I let him spend more time with him, the same thing will happen, because Will is working harder than the devil to turn him against me. It’s an impossible situation.”

“Has he always been this close with his dad or is it just the divorce that brought them together?”

“I always had a feeling Will prefered Dylan over Robin. Which is just fucked up, you don’t choose between your kids. But he never really knew how to deal with a girl, so he spent more time with Dylan. They both like playing video games, so they’ve been bonding over that lately. I guess Dylan feels closer to him because they have more in common and he always looked up to Will. I never thought this would turn out as a disadvantage.”

She looks down at her coffee, deep in her thoughts before taking a sip and finally turning to face Harry. 

“It’s such a mess, right? I’m a mess.”

“You’re not a mess, Y/N. You’re doing everything you can to get through it, so don’t blame yourself. Will should grow up and be your partner for the sake of the kids.”

“We haven’t been separated for a whole year, but I can’t even believe we were once married,” she groans, her head falling back for a moment. Then, as if she realized something, she looks at Harry. “I’m sorry for always dumping my drama on you, this must be annoying.”

“Y/N, I asked you,” he chuckles. “I’m happy to listen, to help, anything you need.”

“You’re such a nice man, Harry,” she sighs. “I’m sure you haven’t been having any problem with dating since your divorce.”

“There’s no problem, because I don’t really date,” he admits with an awkward chuckle.

“What?” her eyes widen. “You’re just joking, right?”

“No,” he shakes his head with a shrug. “It’s not really my priority. I spend most of my free time with Harlow, I just… never got around to get myself out there, I guess.”

“But do you want to?”

“Ideally, I don’t want to be alone forever. I’m not against dating, I’m just not looking actively.”

“Hmm… I get it. It’s just shocking that women are not throwing themselves at you everywhere you go,” she snorts out a laugh before taking another sip from her coffee. 

“Because I’m the hot dad?” he jokes.

“Well, duh!” she laughs. 

“You keep calling me hot, I might think that you’re into me, Y/N.”

She almost chokes at his comment, which just entertains him even more, he likes how nervous she got over his comment.

“I-I’m not trying to– I mean you’re… Oh God.”

“Relax,” he laughs, placing a hand on hers for a moment. “I was just messing with you.”

“God, I hate you,” she chuckles, bumping her shoulder against his.

“I hope you don’t, because I actually like you.”

There’s a switch in the conversation thanks to Harry’s little confession, but he just couldn’t keep it in any longer. She seems surprised, but pleasantly at his words, staring back at him with wide eyes.

“It’s hard not to like you,” he adds with a shy smile. “And if you think I’m the hot dad then I can admit that you’re a hot mom.”

“Oh my God, you’re gonna make me giggle like a little girl,” she laughs, covering her mouth. 

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t bite my tongue any longer,” he chuckles, looking down at his hands in his lap. “Just thought I would share. I’m not expecting anything to change, I know you have enough on your plate now.”

“I like you too, Harry,” she admits and his heart is soaring. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to take this step with anyone at the moment.”

“I completely understand. I’m happy to be just friends,” he reassures her kindly. She smiles at him with gratitude in her eyes, this moment means a lot to both of them in many different ways.

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the girls play around the swings and then she’s the first one to speak up. 

“Did we just admit that we’re crushing on each other?” she asks with a grin.

“I guess so, yeah,” he nods, mirroring her expression. 

“This felt like middle school all over again.”

“You want me to pull your hair?” he teases her, making her laugh out loud.

“Ah, I’m okay without that, thank you. But it was… refreshing. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“Glad I could be the one who brought the feeling back to you,” Harry smiles at her sweetly, bumping his shoulder against hers.

They fall into a rhythm. Constantly texting throughout the day, sharing pictures randomly, helping each other out whenever it’s needed, their bond strengthening along the way. It’s not just Y/N’s messy situation they talk about, but anything and everything. 

And Harry can feel himself falling.

He’s patient, though. He knows he needs to wait and let Y/N heal and figure things out before she could get back to dating and when that moment finally comes, Harry will be there waiting for her. 

She truly surprises him when she takes the first step out of the friend zone.

“So, what are you doing this weekend?” she asks when they are randomly talking on the phone one evening. Originally, Y/N called to ask for some help with homework, because Robin didn’t remember what exactly needed to be done, but it soon turned into some private chit-chatting.

“Not much, Harlow is having a sleepover at my mum’s, so I’ll be alone for most of the weekend.”

“That’s great, because my kids are gonna be away too, so I thought we could do something that doesn’t include a playground, homework or kids meal,” she chuckles and just the sound of it brings a smile to Harry’s face. Harry is about to answer when she adds at last: “It could be a date.”

“A date?” he breathes out.

“Yeah. If you want it to be. It’s fine if we just hang out as friends, I don’t–”

“It’s a date,” he reassures her and he can almost feel her relief over the phone. 

“Great.” Harry knows she’s smiling on the other end of the call, he can tell. 

“Alright, then I’ll plan everything out. Saturday?”

“Saturday sounds amazing.”

Harry wants this date to be as perfect as possible. It’s not just his first date with Y/N, but also her first date since her divorce. He wants her to feel secure, comfortable and cared for, so she doesn’t feel like she made a mistake.

Therefore, he pays extra attention to tailor this date to her liking. 

It’s nothing out of the ordinary, they go to a gallery, then grab dinner and take a walk, but his attention to the details is what makes it outstanding. He remembered Y/N saying how much she loves contemporary art, but she hasn’t had the time to go to any galleries these past years, so Harry takes her to a promising young artist’s exhibition which she absolutely adores, so the evening starts out perfectly. 

Then they have dinner at an Indian place Y/N once mentioned. She used to go there often with her parents so it’s a piece of nostalgia for her that brings back some precious memories. The food is amazing, they talk like old friends and the conversation flows naturally, there’s no awkwardness, no weird silences. It’s simply perfect. 

As the last stop of the date he takes her to a hidden little park and of course, he’s got reasons for that as well.

“How come I never knew there’s a park around here? We live so close!” she chuckles.

“Because it’s kind of… private,” he smiles as he stops at a massive gate that appears to be just a simple driveway, so Y/N is looking at him confused. 

“We’re not gonna get in trouble for this, right? I don’t want to run from the cops,” she chuckles as Harry opens up the gate just enough so they can go inside.

“Don’t worry, I got permission to go inside, I know the owner,” he grins, holding out a hand for her that she gladly takes and they walk in, the gate sliding closed behind them.

“What is this place?”

“I worked with a guy about a year ago, he is an amazing musician and producer. His wife is French and comes from the countryside where her family had this massive mansion with the most beautiful garden.”

As they walk further Y/N finally gets a glimpse of the breathtaking yard that’s hidden from the outside, flowers and greenery everywhere she looks, a dreamy fountain in the middle with a naked female figure serving as the most beautiful gem of the garden. 

“She would talk about how much she misses the garden when they moved here, so he surprised her with this. Her own little piece of her home. And see the fountain?” he asks, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“It’s a replica of the one they had in France.”

“Oh my, this is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” she gasps as they slowly walk around the garden. 

They wander around, feeling like they have entered a whole new world, the stars shining bright above them and the millions of flowers surrounding them, the gentle splashing of the water coming from the fountain that Y/N keeps staring at, because it’s simply the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. 

Harry is proud of himself, Y/N hasn’t stopped smiling all evening, so he knows tonight turned out just as he planned. He felt rusty at the beginning, he can’t even remember the last time he was on a proper date, but this was a good start for the both of them.

It’s quite late by the time Harry takes her home, but neither of them truly wants the evening to end. 

“I had an amazing time, Harry. Thank you,” she smiles up at him as they reach her home.

“Does this mean we can do it again sometime?”

“Definitely,” she chuckles. 

Then comes the first awkward moment of the night. It’s not even that awful, it’s just that Harry’s not sure how far he can go. He’s been thinking about kissing her all evening, but he doesn’t want to cross any lines and push her too much. 

“Harry?” she breathes out as they stand just a foot apart.

“Yeah?”

“You can kiss me. I-I mean if you want, I don’t–”

He doesn’t need more, crossing the distance left between them he presses his lips against his, circling his arms around her waist as he pulls her into his embrace. It’s the perfect ending for a perfect date and Harry knows he’ll have a hard time from now on to behave around Y/N, knowing how she tastes, what her lips feel like against his and how her tiny moans sound. They devour each other, it feels like years worth of drought is washed away and they experience a kind of passion neither of them thought they would feel again. 

It’s hard to hold back and not take it as far as possible. Harry is aching to get, feel and taste more of her, but he knows he needs to slow down. Every fiber in his body is screaming not to stop, but his consciousness is awake enough to draw the line. He pulls back, though he goes in for a few more kisses before forcing himself to stop before he can’t control himself. 

Y/N buries her face into the crook of his neck as they stay like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, bathing in the comfort and warmth of this significant moment. Harry can’t stop himself from pressing a few soft kisses to her forehead, wishing he could do this every day, whenever he wants to. 

The moments stretch long, but eventually they let go of each other, not too willingly thought.

“I hope you don’t regret going on a date with the hot dad,” Harry cheekily smirks.

“Not at all,” she chuckles. “It was easily the best date I’ve ever been on.”

“Damn, it’ll be hard to outdo it next time,” he sighs, making her laugh.

“Sorry,” she grins, but there’s no remorse in her reaction.

“Alright, enjoy the rest of your kids-free weekend,” Harry smiles as he starts backing away, but then steps back to her once more, stealing one last kiss. “Okay, bye!” he sighs, forcing himself to walk away.

“Bye Harry!” she chuckles.

The upcoming week turns out quite hectic for the both of them. Y/N got a new project at work and as always, she has her hands full of her kids. Harry’s pretty busy too, he promised to help her mum paint her kitchen, so whenever he’s not at work or spending time with Harlow, he’s over at his mum’s home with a roll attached to his hands. 

They don’t get to see each other in person and though talking on the phone and constantly texting is great too, neither of them can stop thinking about how good their date was, spending time alone, in person. 

It’s a total coincidence they arrive at the school at the same time on Friday.

Harry spots Y/N first as she is walking towards the building from the parking lot, typing away on her phone in her usual work attire. As sappy as it sounds, his heart skips a beat at the sight of her, he’s been thinking about her a lot all week and now she is right there in front of her. 

Leaning against a pillar he watches her with a cheeky smile, waiting for her to notice him. She looks up from her phone and at first, her gaze rushes over him, but then her eyes bounce back on him and a wide smile stretches across her face.

“Lovely to see you here, Miss Y/L/N,” Harry smirks and pushing himself away from the pillar he steps closer to her and dares to press a tiny kiss to her cheek. She doesn’t seem to mind the affection at all.

“Mr. Styles,” she smiles bashfully. “How are you?”

“I’m good. A little tired. How about you?”

“Same,” she sighs, folding her arms over her chest.

“How is the situation with Dylan and Will?”

“Eh, it’s fine. Though it feels like the calm before the storm, I’m afraid.”

Harry nods with a hum just when the doors open and kids start to flow out of the building. 

“When will you be kids-free next?” Harry asks in a hurry, his eyes snapping to her just for a moment before searching for Harlow in the sea of students. 

“Um, maybe next weekend. But maybe we could have lunch sometime next week?” she suggests and he nods eagerly.

“Would love that.”

“Daddy!” He hears the most beautiful voice and moments later Harlow jumps into his arms.

“Hey princess, how was your day?” he chuckles, adjusting her in his hold.

“Great!”

“That’s good,” he hums, smiling. Glancing to the side Harry sees as Robin hugs Y/N and a few moments later Dylan marches out of the building, joining them. Y/N looks at him for one last moment, they exchange a quick smile and then part ways. 

Lunch together doesn’t happen. Days go by and they can’t get the schedule to match, there’s always something happening, life gets in the way, but it doesn’t change the way Harry feels about Y/N. And because of that, he would wait forever to spend even just another minute with her.

They manage to have two more dates in the next month and they are both just as amazing as the first one was, because they got to spend more time together.

They have slowly become inseparable.

Their fourth date is set to happen on a Friday when they are kids-free again. Or so they thought. 

They planned to watch a movie and then have a late dinner somewhere, so Harry arrived at her house a few minutes before six so they could catch the movie that starts at 6:45. He’s been looking forward to this evening all week, his heart jumping every time Y/N messaged him. He’s been like a lovesick puppy for a while now, even at work, he found himself taking songs into a more romantic direction than he usually does. 

Walking up to the door he rings the bell and waits, trying his best to keep himself from smiling like crazy. But when the door opens and he sees the stressed out look on Y/N’s face, his expression drops right away. 

“Oh shit, I totally forgot!” she breaks down seeing Harry, but her reaction is a little too extreme, he knows something happened that made her forget about their date. “Harry, I’m sorry, I don’t think tonight is gonna–”

“Hey, it’s alright, no need to apologize. Just tell me what happened, you seem so shaken up.”

Y/N holds the door for him as he walks in while she tries to collect her thoughts to tell him what happened.

“I uhh–I had the worst fucking day ever,” she breathes out shakily as they move to the living room to sit on the couch. “I have no idea how we ended up fighting with Dylan right before Will was about to arrive, but it was possibly our worst fight so far. Then Will joined in and of course, he completely ignored the fact that he is supposed to be a parent and not just a friend to Dylan.”

As she talks, Harry can’t stop thinking about how broken she seems and it’s killing him to see her like this. He needs everything in him not to just pull her into his arms and tell her he’ll solve everything for her.

“I swear I could see that vile smile hiding in his expression, like he was enjoying how Dylan was turning against me!” She growls in annoyance, sinking into the cushion. 

“So then what happened? Did you guys come to an agreement of some sort?”

Y/N scoffs, her head falling back.

“The agreement that we came to is that He took the kids and Dylan will stay with him for a while. I had to pack my son’s stuff knowing that Will won’t take good care of him. I know him, he can’t be on parent mode all the time, he’ll want to have his alone time and go out with his friends, but now he’ll have Dylan with him all the time!”

“Why did you let him take Dylan?” Harry asks with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand the reasons behind her actions.

“Because I’m fucking tired of being the bad guy and… I figured that Dylan is smart enough to realize that living with his dad is not fun!” she laughs, but there’s no happiness behind it at all. “Will never did the everyday things. He doesn’t like to cook, he definitely won’t wake up earlier to pack Dylan lunch, I’m pretty sure he’ll probably forget to pick him up at least once, if not more times a week. It’s not gonna work and I’m hoping that Dylan will find it out himself. He’s a smart boy, if he wants to take this ride, I’m all in,” she sighs, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she looks at Harry. “I’m so sorry I forgot about our date. I promise I’ve been waiting for it, but today was just–”

“Y/N, I already told you there’s no need to apologize,” he cuts in, not even wanting to have her think about it. 

“I feel like I’m just dumping all my mess on you all the time.”

“I love that you feel comfortable enough around me to share this stuff,” Harry smiles softly. 

“I feel more than just comfortable,” she admits, looking at him with calmness in the middle of the madness. 

“Yeah?” he grins. “Why don’t we order some food, watch a movie here and call it a night? You must be exhausted.”

“That sounds… amazing,” she breathes out with a tired smile.

And that’s exactly what they do. They order pizza and cuddle on the couch while watching some Netflix movie. Every time they’re together they talk constantly, but this time, they just enjoy each other’s presence in silence and it’s exactly what they need. Halfway through the movie Harry notices that she’s fallen asleep, her head on his chest, snoozing away her stress. 

Harry takes just a few minutes to himself, enjoying her closeness and being able to hold her in his arms like never before and he thinks about how he wants to experience this every day. He wants Y/N to get some well-deserved rest, so he carefully carries her to her bedroom and puts her to bed, planning to let himself out and probably call her in the morning, but right before he is about to walk out of her bedroom, her voice pulls him back.

“Stay with me? Please?”

Her voice is barely more than just a whisper and as he looks back at her, she’s blinking at him lazily, already scooting over in bed to make space for him.

“You sure?” Harry asks, though every bit of him just wants to stay close to her. She nods into the pillow and smiles softly as Harry steps back to the bed, hesitantly looking down at his clothes.

“You can take off your jeans if you want,” she cheekily smirks, making Harry laugh as he unbuttons his pants.

“You just wanted to get me out of my pants, didn’t you?” he teases her, kicking the jeans off and then making himself comfortable in bed next to Y/N, who instantly moves closer, cuddling to his side.

“Since the moment I saw you,” she retorts, making him laugh again.

“Should have just asked me right away.”

He presses a kiss on top of her head, wrapping his arms around her tight as they fall asleep together for the first time. 

She sleeps better than she had in a long time. Usually she’s awake early in the morning no matter whether she has plans or not. But this time when she blinks her eyes open and checks the time on the alarmclock on her nightstand and it reads seven minutes past nine. She can’t even tell when the last time she slept after eight was. 

Sitting up in bed she’s disappointed to realize that the bed next to her is empty, but then she hears pans and pots clinking somewhere downstairs and she can’t help but smile at the thought of Harry in her kitchen. 

When she walks down she spots the man by the stove, he is making what seems like scrambled eggs, two mugs already sitting on the countertop with steaming, fresh coffee in them. Harry has put his jeans back on, though she wishes she could have seen him cook only in his underwear, but this is a nice view as well. 

“Good morning,” she smiles and walking closer she checks in on the breakfast he’s making. 

“Hi there, I hope I didn’t wake you up,” he chuckles and moving close she presses a sweet kiss to his lips to his surprise.

“No. I slept amazing, thank you for staying. I hope I didn’t make it feel weird.”

“Oh please. I was worried I might have crossed a line,” he chuckles softly as he moves the pan off the stove, turning to face Y/N fully, his hands finding her waist instantly.

“I’m afraid there are no lines when it comes to you, Harry.”

She says it with a cheeky smile, but they both can feel the seriousness behind her words and Harry is a tad bit surprised. He thought he would have to wait much longer for her to heal and move forward, but it seems like she’s ready to start this new chapter with Harry. 

“Yeah?” he hums, inching closer with his face until he can brush his nose against hers. 

“Mhm… I hope I won’t regret this,” she adds, a pang of fear flashing through her eyes. 

“You won’t. I promise.”

He holds her gaze for a few more heartbeats before pressing his lips to hers, devouring her as if he is trying to prove that his promise will be a lasting one. 

The eggs and coffee get forgotten quite fast as they get lost in each other. He presses her against the counter, his hands sneaking under her shirt, seeking direct contact with her skin. He can never get enough of her taste, the way her lips move with his and those pleased moans that slip out whenever he touches a soft spot. He’s completely obsessed with her and can’t even remember a time when he wasn’t thinking about her every waking moment. 

“You’re not hungry?” he asks against her lips.

“Only for you,” she chuckles as she pulls him back towards the stairs to return to the bedroom. 

They’ve been both craving intimacy for a while, but after their dates they just didn’t have the chance to take it past making out on the front porch. Now they have the house all to themselves and they are definitely using the precious time. 

Between hungry kisses thes peel each other out of their clothes as they navigate back into the bedroom. She falls onto the mattress in only her underwear and Harry takes a moment to admire the view while ridding himself of his pants. Her nerves take over as he studies her almost fully naked form, she reaches for the covers, but he’s quick to stop her.

“Sorry, i-it’s just been a long time since…” she stutters as Harry climbs over her, holding himself up on his arms.

“How long?” he simply asks.

“Um… At least over a year… maybe two…,” she admits shamefully while his expression remains blank and she fears he finds it ridiculous that she hasn’t been with a man in so long.

“Your ex is the biggest idiot in the world,” he replies before his lips devour hers, his body pressing down on her, skin against skin, they are closer than ever, but they are just about to get even closer.

They roll around on the mattress, giggles turning into moans as the last remaining pieces of clothing disappear. They can’t get enough of each other, Harry’s practically trying to map out her whole body, kissing and touching every inch he can reach, worshiping her like no one before did.

When he kisses his way down on her chest and stomach, she realizes where he’s taking it, her breathing picks up at the thought of feeling his lips between her legs, especially because she can’t even remember the last time she was on the receiving end of oral sex.

“Relax,” he softly says before peppering the inside of her thigh, one hand sliding up her torso to her sternum. He can feel under his touch how wildly her heart is beating against her ribcage. “I’ll just have a quick taste, is that okay?” he asks, his eyes snapping up to meet hers.

“Yes,” she answers breathlessly. 

“Good,” he smirks before moving closer to her cunt. 

He truly only wants a taste, he doesn’t want to overwhelm her, knowing it’s her first time in a long time, but he just can’t help himself. The way her back arches and lips part when his mouth meets her clit, it gets him addicted fast and he knows he’ll spend long hours between her thighs once she gets more comfortable. But for now, he’s just trying to control his hunger.

Licking, kissing and sucking, he makes sure to show her he has endless ways of pleasuring her with his mouth, leaving her wanting more when he moves back up.

“Next time I’m not stopping until you come on my tongue at least twice,” he warns with a pleased grin, to which she can only nod as she gasps for air. 

To his surprise, when his lips return to hers, she reaches down and wraps her hands around his cock he’s been ignoring all along just to focus on her pleasure. He can’t help but moan against her mouth when she starts gently pumping his length.

“And next time,” she speaks up, “I will suck your dick for as long as you want me to, but now… I really need you to fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he chuckles, but it quickly turns into a growl when she angles her hips so his head brushes against her soaked cunt. “Condom?”

“In the drawer,” she nods towards the nightstand and he reaches to the side, his movements slightly disoriented since she’s still playing with his cock with her hands. 

She only stops when he rolls the condom on, her hands then moving to his mare ass, squeezing it shamelessly as he positions himself between her legs.

“Just tell me how you like it, slow, fast, hard, soft, I can do anything for you, Y/N,” he says, pressing kisses to the corner of her mouth. 

“Start slow, then we can go faster.”

He nods and with a slow, careful motion he pushes into her, both of them moaning at the sensation. Harry almost loses his mind, feeling her warm, wet walls around him even through the condom. For a moment he fears he is about to come just by being inside her. Y/N is not the only one who hasn’t been sexually active lately, Harry’s needs mostly get satisfied by his hand under the shower on lonely nights, so this is a gamechanger for him as well.

“You’re good?” he asks out of breath.

“Never been better,” she smiles shortly, taking his face in her hands to pull him in for a kiss before Harry finally starts moving.

Just as she asked, he starts slow, gliding in and out of her until she gets familiar with the feeling and his size that’s quite bigger than what she’s been used to. Pulling her left leg up she hooks it around him, allowing him to go deeper with each thrust.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” he growls against her neck before biting on her soft skin gently. She wraps her arms around his torso, clawing at his back to pull him as close as possible, she wants to feel his weight on her, his skin melting against hers as they become one. 

“Faster, please!” she breathes out and that’s all Harry needs to pick his pace up, pleasing her every wish. 

“Would love to fuck you from behind, but I need to see your pretty face when you come,” he breathes out a chuckle, pressing his lips on hers.

“Next time,” she grins back.

“We're saying that a lot.”

“Because we’ll have a lot of it,” she simply says before a moan slips through her lips. 

His heart skips a beat, thinking of a future where he can spend his time with Y/N more than just a couple of times a week. He’s known it for a while, but now, as he’s closer to her than ever, he knows she is it for him. 

Gradually fastening his movements he brings them both to the edge, she keeps calling out his name while he mumbles praises against her lips until she finally comes and he follows her moments later. His last few thrusts are rough and hard, but it tops it all perfectly. Harry rolls off of her, trying to catch his breath as she cuddles to his side, happily listening to the beating of his heart that’s slowing down after the excitement.

Legs tangled, she lifts her head, her fingers gently dancing over his tattooed chest, a lovesick smile stretching across her face.

“You’re alright?” he asks, squeezing her playfully.

“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” she admits chuckling.

“Good,” he smiles. “Though I think breakfast is cold now.”

“We had way more important things to do,” she grins before placing a kiss to his chest.

A lot changes following that Friday. Some changes are hard, like accepting that Y/N can only see Dylan a handful of times and that he’s living with his father now. It’s hard on Y/N and Robin as well, not having him around like always, but there’s nothing to do.

Some changes, however, are very much amazing. Like the blossoming relationship between Y/N and Harry. Following their passionate morning things have taken a pleasant turn.

They are officially an item.

There are rules, of course, that help their journey, navigating life with a new partner with kids. It’s challenging, but they both know it will benefit everyone. Playdates have been regular and Harlow has been spending more time with her granny and Robin has been visiting Will and Dylan quite often as well. It’s also useful in the case of showing Will just how much work it is to take care of the kids almost full time, Y/N is convinced there will be a breaking point. In the meantime, she’s making the best out of her free time, spending it with her new lover.

The girls don’t know officially that their parents are dating. However, they are smart enough to notice that there’s something definitely going on. Harry always brings flowers to Y/N when they come over for a playdate, they’ve had dinner together a few times, Harry often picks them both up from school and then they meet at home and have dinner before Y/N and Robin head home. 

They’ve found a rhythm that seems to be working for both of them.

“...Happy birthday dear Harlow! Happy birthday to you!” all the guests sing as the girl sits by her flower themed cake, candles lit on top.

Harry is recording with his phone with the proudest smile on his face, Frankie standing right next to him. Harlow’s birthday is the occasion where they celebrate together, no matter what. She might be switching between them all year, but they both agreed that her day shouldn’t be split into two. So usually Frankie joins them for this one time every year so they can celebrate as a family. 

Today is not only special because of Harlow’s birthday, but also because Y/N and Frankie will meet for the first time. She dropped Robin off earlier, but she’ll return soon to have their official introduction, she just had to drop by her office to hand in some documents before joining the party. 

She’s been anxious about the meeting all week, even though Harry told her there’s nothing to worry about. Meeting an ex could easily be a terrible experience and Y/N wants Frankie to like her and justify the time she spends with Harlow as Harry’s partner. 

Harlow blows the candles out and smiles wide at everyone clapping for her. She’s invited her friends from school and from around the neighborhood and of course, there are a few parents attending as well.

After cake the kids get a headstart in all the activities Harry has planned for them, starting off with playing tag in the bouncy castle he has rented for the afternoon. Yeah, he might have gone a little overboard, but he just wanted the best for his little princess. 

“So, when is she arriving?” Frankie asks Harry while she helps him clean up the dining table. 

“Um, any minute.”

“I hope you’re not nervous about us meeting,” she chuckles. 

“No,” he smiles. “But she is.”

“I can understand that.”

They work in silence for a bit before Frankie stops and looks at Harry.

“Are you happy?” she asks. Harry puts the plates down from his hands and looks at the woman he once thought he would spend the rest of his life with.

“I am. Yeah.”

“And you think it’s a lasting happiness?”

“I do,” he nods. “There’s… There’s something I feel in my chest that I can’t really explain, but I just know I found my person.”

Frankie smiles, genuinely, because this is all she ever wished for Harry. 

“It’s good to hear that.”

Just as they are about to finish in the kitchen, the doorbell rings and Harry knows it’s Y/N. 

“Please be nice to her,” he exhales before jogging over to the door. Opening he sees Y/N standing there, a nervous, but bright expression on her face.

“Hey,” he smiles and leaning in, he steals a kiss before she steps inside.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I was trying to be fast. How is the party? Is Frankie here?” she asks as Harry closes the door behind her.

“Yeah, come on, let’s meet her.” Harry takes her hand, but she pulls back.

“Wait, is it… How should I act? What do I tell her?” she asks in a frenzy. 

“Calm down, it’s going to be fine. Just be yourself, okay?”

“I’m about to meet your ex wife, don’t tell me–”

“Hello!” Frankie walks out with a warm smile and Y/N’s eyes go wide at first, but then she regains control over her face. “You must be Y/N, I’m Francesca, but call me Frankie.” She extends her hand towards Y/N which she takes.

“So nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!”

“So have I,” Frankie chuckles. 

“I hope only the good things,” she chuckles awkwardly, throwing a look at Harry, who is just watching the scene unfolding with an amused smirk on his face.

“Why don’t we have a drink and I’ll tell you everything he told me about you,” Frankie smirks.

“Yeah, sure!” 

Harry lets them get to know each other, though he keeps an eye on them while tending to the birthday party as well. Just as he thought, Y/N had no reason to worry about meeting Frankie, five minutes into their chit-chat and they are already laughing like old friends. 

The party is a huge success, the kids have fun and Harlow will surely remember her eighth birthday. When all the guests have left and Harlow said goodbye to her mom who headed out to the airport, it’s just Harry, Y/N and the two girls. Harlow and Robin are watching a movie in the living room while Y/N helps Harry to clean up most of the mess.

“So, meeting Frankie wasn’t that bad after all, huh?” Harry teases her while they’re loading the dishwasher. 

“I never thought it would be bad, I was just nervous. She is obviously an important person in your and Harlow’s life, I wanted her to like me,” she clarifies.

“It’s impossible not to like you,” Harry smirks cheekily, making her laugh. 

“Maybe. For you,” she adds sheepishly. “Anyway, she was nice and welcoming, it wasn’t awkward at all.”

“Why would it have been awkward?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “That’s what it’s like in the movies.”

“But it’s real life,” he chuckles. putting the last plate onto the rack and closing the washer. “I told you, we are on great terms. She has a partner too, actually, I think they will get engaged soon.”

“Oh, that’s great. Do you like the guy?”

“Yeah,” he nods, starting the washer and then he leans against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. “Mateo is a nice guy, he’s a doctor too. Neurosurgeon. So I guess they are perfect for each other. He’s great with Harlow too and that’s what matters to me. I’m sure Frankie thinks the same about you.”

“I hope so.”

“I know it, Y/N. So don’t worry,” he smiles and peeking over her shoulder he checks if the girls can see them. When he’s sure they’re not in sight, he leans down and steals a short, but meaningful kiss. “Can I ask you something? And please tell me if it’s too fast, I want to do this right.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“When do you think we should tell the kids about us?”

“Well,” she exhales with a tiny smile. “I think they are already suspecting something.”

“How do you know?”

“Robin asked the other day if you and Harlow will spend Christmas with us since, and I quote, we already spend as much time together as a couple.”

“Oh wow, they really are smarter than we think,” Harry chuckles. “I guess we could come clean soon, what do you think?”

“Definitely. I want to be honest with Robin. We can sit down with them sometime. But I want Dylan to be there too. I don’t want him to find out about it from Robin.”

“Of course, sure.”

Before he turns to finish up in the kitchen she grabs his hand and pulls back for another, tad bit longer kiss that he accepts gladly, even with the risk of getting caught.

“Thank you,” she whispers when they pull apart.

“For what?”

“For… being so amazing. And giving me faith that I can still find happiness.”

Next weekend the girls are invited for their first ever sleepover to a classmate’s home, so Harry and Y/N can have a night to themselves finally. It’s been a hectic week, so they agreed to just stay in, watch a movie and relax together. This time it’s Y/N’s turn to host their romantic evening, so they are spending Saturday evening cuddled up on her couch, ready to rewind.

They are halfway into their choice of movie when Y/N’s phone starts ringing. Normally, she would ignore it, but when she sees that Dylan is calling her, she snatches the phone from the table and answers the call.

“Hey hun, everything alright?” she asks, knowing well Dylan only has a phone for emergencies and he wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important. 

Harry can’t hear the boy on the other end, but he can tell whatever Dylan is saying it’s putting Y/N on alerted mom mode instantly.

“I’ll pick you up right now, don’t worry,” she says, already jumping up from the couch. “Just stay right there, I’m on my way, honey.”

“What happened?” Harry asks, rushing after Y/N as she hurriedly starts putting on shoes and a jumper, still staying in line with Dylan. She covers the mic of her phone as she answers quickly. 

“Will left him home alone, he went to the store to get himself food, but he locked himself out and Will is not answering his phone.”

She’s mad. Big time. It’s the type of anger that turns any mother into mama bear mode.

“I’m going with you, you can���t drive like this,” he says, not asks.

“Thank you,” she breathes out before turning her attention back to the phone. “I’ll be right there, Dylan, okay? Stay on the phone with me.”

She talks to him on the phone while Harry is driving according to her instructions and he’s trying his best to keep his cool and stay in his line. He knows this is a family matter, but he’s fighting the urge to punch Will if he ever sees him. 

“There, pull over,” Y/N points at a house and Harry spots Dylan sitting on the stairs at the front door, obviously shaken up.

Y/N practically jumps out of the car before it even stops, running towards the boy who does the same and lets his mom wrap him in her arms tight and safely, it’s exactly where he belongs. Harry gets out as well, approaching carefully, making sure he keeps distance and gives them space.

“Come on, I got the spare keys, let’s pack your stuff. You’re coming home.”

For probably the first time in a long time, he doesn’t argue, just nods and follows his mom to the door that she locks with her set of keys Will gave him for emergencies. This surely qualifies as one. Glancing back she nods at Harry to follow and he oblies, staying in the foyer as the two of them disappear further in the house. 

The place looks like a typical bachelor home, not too much furniture, no home décor, but a giant TV in the living room with several game consoles. It’s obviously not a place where kids should be around, there’s nothing homey, warm and cozy and Harry can only guess, but something is telling him Dylan’s room looks similar to the rest of the house. 

He can faintly hear them talking, maybe even Dylan crying as Y/N softly soothes him while they’re probably packing his things. Harry stays by the door, but when he sees a pair of headlights pulling up on the driveway, he stiffens.

“Y/N? I think someone’s home!” he calls out, watching a guy get out of the car. From what Harry can see through the window, he looks confused at first and then pissed when he reaches the front door and walks in, facing Harry in his house.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spits, his hands curling into fists. Before he could answer, Y/N rushes out of Dylan’s room.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Where the hell were you?” she raises her voice in an instant, holding Will accountable for his actions.

“What are you doing here and who the hell is this clown?” Will ignores her questions, gesturing towards Harry.

“You left your son home alone for almost a whole day with no food!” 

“I left a few dollars on the dining table,” he shrugs, like it’s truly no big deal.

“Yeah! And he went to the store to get something when you’ve been away for fucking hours and locked himself out! You didn’t answer his calls! He called me crying, because he couldn’t reach you, do you think that’s how a father should act? Huh?”

“I had shit to do! I couldn’t bring him with me, what’s the big deal about it? He’s fine!” Will retorts pointing at a frightened looking Dylan down the hallway. 

“No, he is not fine! And don’t fucking believe I’m leaving him here with you. He told me all about the shit you’ve been doing. I’m gonna make legal actions to limit your time with him and Robin as well. You screwed it up, Will. Big time.”

The switch in him can be seen, where he turns into full defensive mode, ready to tear anything and anyone down to have his ways, no matter the consequences. 

“Oh yeah? You think you can just do whatever you want, Y/N?”

“No, it’s you who thinks that’s how it works!”

“You will not keep my kids away from me!” he starts shouting. “Do you hear me? You can’t do that!”

“Actually, I can and I will! I’m done with your shit and so are the kids, believe me.”

Despite the weight of the situation, Harry feels his chest swell with pride seeing Y/N stand her ground, not letting Will throw everything on her.

“Come on, Dylan, we’re leaving, bring your bag,” she calls out to the boy who runs into his room to grab his stuff, appearing a moment later.

“No, you are not walking out of here with him!” Will snaps, grabbing Y/N’s arm and that’s when Harry steps in.

Taking Will by the shoulder, Harry pulls him back, the action takes him by surprise and makes him let go of her, but it just pumps up his anger.

“Get your hands off me!” Will spits, puffing his chest to try to intimidate Harry, but there’s no use. 

“Right after you get your hands off of her,” he retorts, calm and collected, but his eyes are throwing flames.

“You have the nerve to come to my house and tell me what to do with my wife?!”

“I’m not your wife anymore, and this madness is ending here,” Y/N tells him harshly. She holds out a hand and Dylan runs up to her, taking her hand, clinging onto it desperately as he tries to avoid looking at his father. 

“Dylan, you really want to go with your mother? Think of all the fun we’ve had!” Now Will sounds more desperate as he follows Y/N and Dylan towards the door, but Harry gets between him and them before Will could get physical again.

He tries to stop them on their way out, following them to the car too, his emotions switching by the minute: anger, despair, sadness, disgust, he goes through everything, but nothing can stop Y/N now.

“You really think you can just take my kids away from me like that? Huh?” Will starts shouting when Dylan is in the car and they are just about to leave. Y/N turns back to end the discussion in a calm manner. 

“I know that the court will love to hear about all the shit you’ve done. Try fighting me and I will make sure you’ll never see your kids again.”

Will is stunned from the strength and power oozing from Y/N and it leaves him frozen in his spot as she gets in the car and drives away with Dylan and Harry.

Arriving back home Harry stays back and lets Y/N focus on Dylan. They have a talk in his room while Harry cleans up the mess they left before rushing out of the house. When an hour later Y/N comes down he can tell she’s tired and drained.

“Thank you for cleaning up,” she smiles as she walks over and he pulls her into his embrace right away. She melts into his arms gladly, dropping the tough act and letting him be her safe haven after everything that happened.

“How’s Dylan?”

“Confused and disappointed. I wish he never had to see Will like that. He used to be his hero, this was a turning point.”

“He’s a great kid, he’ll get over it and he has you.” He kisses the crown of her head before pulling back so give her an encouraging smile that she returns. “I’m gonna head out, let you get some rest.”

“Okay,” she nods and leaning closer, she kisses his lips gently. “Thank you for… everything.”

“I’m happy to be here for you. Anytime.”

“I know,” she smiles softly. “That’s why… that’s why I love you.”

Her words take him by surprise, but then his heart starts hammering in his chest as he stares back at her.

“I love you too,” he breathes out before their lips meet again.

It's a staring match and Harry and Y/N are definitely losing.

Sitting next to each other, the couple is now facing the three most important people in their life. Harlow, Robin and Dylan are sitting in silence, waiting for the announcement that brought them together this Saturday afternoon. 

Y/N bumps her elbow against Harry’s side, urging him to break the silence. He clears his throat and finally starts talking.

“So, we wanted to tell you guys something. We believe all three of you are mature enough to take the news and we hope you’ll be happy about it.”

Harlow and Robin exchange a knowing look, but they let him carry on. 

“You might have noticed that we’ve been spending a lot of time together. It’s because we’ve become great friends and… and slowly we became… You know, when adults get closer they can easily fall… Um…”

He is not doing good, rambling, all over the place, feeling more nervous than ever as the three kids stare back at him expectantly. At last, Y/N takes the lead.

“We’re together. As a couple,” she says, ending Harry’s misery to find the right words. 

They remain silent for a few moments that feel excruciating to Harry and then the girls start giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Harry questions them.

“We were just wondering how long it would take for you to admit it,” Harlow sassily replies.

“We’ve known it for a while,” Robin chimes in.

“You might have suspected it, but I don’t think you’ve known,” Y/N narrows her eyes at them.

“We saw you kissing the other week,” Dylan speaks up, surprising Y/N and Harry. They’ve been trying to be very careful, but it seems like they did not succeed.

“Um, well… So then now you know for sure,” Harry chuckles. “How do you feel about it?”

“Does this mean we’re sisters now?” Harlow asks, her face lighting up.

“Not really. Not yet, at least,” Y/N chuckles. 

“Oh, okay.”

“Are we gonna move in together?” Dylan asks and Y/N can tell he is not ready for that.

“No. We’re not planning to do that anytime soon, don’t worry. But we want to spend more time together, with you guys as well. So Harry might spend the night at ours sometimes or when you two are with dad, I might be sleeping over at his place,” she explains.

“Okay,” Dylan nods in relief.

The kids have a few more questions that they gladly answer and it seems like they are taking it well. When the talk is over, the kids take over the trampoline in the backyard, giving Harry and Y/N a moment of privacy.

“That went well,” he smirks proudly.

“Oh, you mean you did so great rambling in the beginning?” she teases him. “I agree.”

“Haha, very funny,” he rolls his eyes, but can’t hold his smirk back. 

“It went well, you’re right,” she says. “But I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything about you is perfect,” she smiles up at him, knowing well how much he loves getting praised. 

“Mm, guess we can thank the girls. That bake sale truly brought us together,” he chuckles.

“That was the ultimate parent trap and they didn’t even know it,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around his waist before kissing him. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[unreliablesnake]

MDNI, mention of sex, afab!reader

That son of a bitch shot him on their last mission. König was often in the way of bullets, but this was friendly fire. Ghost and him were on the same side, yet he managed to get a bullet in his side from the Brit. Maybe he was petty for not being able to forgive him. Yes, he did say it was okay, that there was no issue between them, but deep down he was mad at the lieutenant. So what was he supposed to do? Let it go? No, that wouldn’t be right. He hired a private investigator to find out more about him, to find his weak spot.

No one was allowed to see his face, but he heard his surname on the field, then he overheard a conversation about Manchester, and later Soap accidentally called him Simon in the pub during a conversation before making König promise not to tell anyone he said that. “Especially not the Lt, he would murder me if he knew,” the Scotsman slurred with a sheepish smile. He nodded, of course, then forwarded the now complete name and location to the PI.

That’s how he learned about you. Ghost’s pretty little ex, a precious porcelain doll he should have kept locked away to keep it safe. The PI was young, barely thirty and fairly handsome, so he had no issue getting close to your circle. According to one of the women you were friends with, you were the one who ended the relationship. “She said he was away a lot, but if you ask me, it’s the age difference. He was what? Thirty-four? Thirty-five? And he acted like he was over forty. She can do better. Too bad that asshole still bothers her to get her back,” she added with a roll of her eyes.

By the time his current mission ended, König had your address and some additional information about your daily routine on his phone. According to the report, you spent every Saturday with your friends in a pub near your apartment, so he went there and watched you from afar. Then he not-so-accidentally bumped into you, his hand falling on your shoulder as he checked if you were okay. “Careful, you wouldn’t want to waste that beer,” he said with a smile, then moved on towards the bar.

It didn’t take much time for you to find him, taking the empty bar stool next to him and flashing a disarming smile at him. “Your eyes are ridiculously blue,” you blurted out.

You were drunk, it was clear as day, but he didn’t mind. It would be easier to get close to you, to convince you to go to his hotel room with him and let him fuck you stupid. He would record the whole thing, making sure your cockdrunk expression was visible on the footage so Ghost could see what he took from him.

In his head he had everything planned out right to the very last tiny detail, because he wasn’t planning to stop at one night. No. Ghost has a good taste, he had to admit that, this is why he didn’t feel like letting go of a pretty thing like you too soon. He would have fun. Maybe he would marry you. Maybe he would put a baby in you to keep you near. Yes, he could surely turn you into a trophy wife, sitting home, looking pretty, raising your kid right, and of course taking care of the man of the house.

His fingers brushed your cheek as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes fixed on your plump lips that shined so bright from the lip gloss. There was no way to fight the thought of having you on your knees in front of him, these shiny lips being wrapped around his cock as you tried to take more of him despite your gag reflex kicking in. He would talk you through it, whispering praises as he patted your head.

When you realized he wasn’t about to talk, you turned your head a little to kiss his hand and put a hand on his thigh. “Don’t you wanna buy me a drink, big guy?” you purred with a flirtatious smile.

He had a feeling it would be easy to pick you up, but this was almost too easy. You came to him yourself; all you needed was a touch of your arms as he bumped into you and now you were pretty much begging him to fuck you. Because König wasn’t stupid, he knew that’s what you wanted. And who was he to say no? So he flashed a smile at you then pulled you into a kiss, even slipping off the chair to trap you between the bar top and his body. You had your hands on his hips, thumbs moving under his shirt to draw circles into his skin.

“I have a better idea. Why don’t we go somewhere private, hm?” he asked as he leaned closer to the shell of your ear. One of your hands moved up to his back under the shirt, long fingernails scratching his skin in a way that made him shiver. You were truly something. No wonder Ghost still wasn’t over you. “Let’s go.”

[therealcocoshady]

Are you still taking requests if not by past this

Lilly (Marshall’s daughter) has a recital that she invited him to but for obvious reasons (him being a celebrity) he isn’t able to go so Lilly is upset and Marshall is kinda bummed and he try’s to make it up to her

« Just Daddy » - Eminem One Shot

Author’s note : THANK YOU for your request ! I am so in love with the Lily/Marshall duo ! If ay of you guys have any requests about this… PLEASE keep them coming, because they make my heart full ! (Also, it is the perfect opportunity for some cute and comforting fluff !!!) 

MARSHALL’S POV 

Marshall usually needed a very good reason to interrupt a studio session, especially if it was one with Dre. In that case, he had interrupted a studio session with Dre, Fifty and Snoop, which could only mean one thing : there was an emergency. In that case, the emergency was Lily’s first big ballet recital, which he couldn’t attend. In truth, he could easily have rescheduled his trip to LA to record a feature and produce a few tracks for Fifty’s latest album, but he couldn’t have attended the recital in person anyway. So far, he had managed to attend the smaller representations, but since this very recital involved most of the art schools in Detroit, with a bit of press coverage involved, he couldn’t take the risk of causing any problems. So instead, he had his wife FaceTime him, so that he would not miss the whole thing.

The sight would make anyone raise an eyebrow : four hip-hop legends sitting in front of an iPad, watching a five year-old’s ballet recital. 

Which one’s yours, man ? Snoop asked. 

Here, Marshall said proudly. Front and center. 

He lovingly watched his baby dance on stage, dressed as a little mouse (or was it supposed to be a cat ?) In a tiny pink tutu. He arbored the brightest smile upon noticing his good his baby was doing. And, being totally objective, she was the one shining the brightest ! When the performance ended and his wife ended the call, he reluctantly turned off the iPad. He had been gone for a whole week and he was gutted to miss such a big event for Lily. So far, in spite of his hectic schedule, he had been able to attend all the major events for her, showing up whenever he could, whether it was school activities or dance performances. 

You good, bro ? Fifty asked. 

Yeah, yeah, he shrugged. 

Missing the family ? Dre chimed in. 

… Yeah, he admitted. I’m usually able to be there for these things. 

We could have rescheduled, you know ? Snoop said. This shit’s important. I’d never miss my grandchildren’s things. 

I know, Marshall replied. I would have. But it’s a fairly big city event, there’s press and I can’t show up like that. You can’t have Eminem ruining a children’s performance by causing a riot or whatever… I wouldn’t have been able to attend anyway, so I might as well work, you know ? 

The press still don’t know about your kid, right ? Dre asked. 

Nope, he said with a smile. Best kept secret in the country, so far. 

Drake’s meat gets leaked on the Internet and meanwhile, you have a family the world knows nothing about, Fifty mused with a grin. 

It’s better this way, Marshall shrugged. Lily’s living the life I always wanted for my eldest : I can give her everything and she doesn’t have to deal with the whole « being Eminem’s daughter » craze. And Y/N doesn’t have do deal with the attention either. 

Not bad, Dre conceded. We all know you love your privacy. 

And how you get crazy when it comes to your kids’ lives, Fifty added. 

They never asked for the bullshit, Marshall simply said. And I swear to God, if Lily’s face ever gets leaked to the press, you guys will have to visit me in jail. 

The others all chuckled. He had always been a protective father but it was even worse when it came to Lily. Rightfully so, though : when the eldest were growing up, attention was a bit easier to avoid. But now, with social media, his baby could become viral in a matter of hours, with no hope for his team to be able to kill the story by bribing the press or threatening to sue. Even now that Alaina, Hailie and Stevie were grown up, they were always dealing with the consequences of having a famous dad, and he wanted to avoid that for his youngest. The less she knew, the better. As far as she was concerned, her Dad made music she didn’t really care about (who was Eminem to compete with Disney princesses and puppies anyway ?) and she had no idea of the magnitude of things. Most of the time, he was able to go places with her and, on the rare occasion people walked up to him, she just assumed it was people he knew. He was also lucky that, so far, she hadn’t really batted an eye when it came to the security officers that discreetly accompanied them. 

They slowly went back to their recording session, the conversation shifting to the others’ kids, then going back to what brought them to Dre’s studio in the first place : music. A few hours later, he was getting ready for dinner, while FaceTiming Y/N. 

We miss you here, she said. 

I miss you girls too, he admitted. Three days and I’m back home. Is Lily with you ? I want to congratulate her. 

In her room, his wife said. She… doesn’t want to talk to you.

What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk to me ?! He asked. What’s wrong ? The performance was good, she was amazing on stage… What went wrong ? 

You weren’t there to hug her when she walked off stage, like you usually are, Y/N explained. She’s upset. She was a mess for fifteen minutes and Hailie had to bribe her with ice cream. 

Shit, he sighed. 

I told her you had to work, she explained with tears in her eyes. But yes… That was a hard. 

Babe… Are you crying ? He asked. 

Don’t worry, she said with a smile. I’m tired and hormonal. Blame it on the babies you put in me. 

How are my sons, by the way ? He asked with a soft smile.

Your possible sons are making their mom’s life a nightmare, she laughed. If I could, I would sleep all the time. And I don’t sleep as well when you’re not in bed with me. 

A few more nights and I’ll be able to cuddle the shit out of you, he said reassuringly. And I’ll stay home for the rest of your pregnancy. 

It’s fine, she said with a yawn. I’m only nine weeks pregnant. I can manage. 

I can’t wait to tell everyone we’re having two more babies, he said. We talked kids with the guys and I swear… Keeping it a secret is harder than I thought it would be. I’m so excited for my sons. 

Possible sons, she giggled. I have to go and put Lily to bed. Say hi to everyone for me, will you ? 

Sure, he replied. Tell Lily I love her ? I’ll try and call tomorrow morning, ok ? 

Of course, Y/N said. I should warn you though… She’s really upset. And she has her Daddy’s temper, too. 

Fuck, babe, can you… Can you try and get her to talk to me ? Please ? 

He could see Y/N open the door to Lily’s room and ask her if she wanted to say hi to him before bed but he heard his daughter’s voice say « No. He wasn’t here, I’m not talking to him ». These two sentences were enough to break his heart, nearly making him sick. He could see his wife looking annoyed and upset, mouthing a silent « I’m sorry » to the camera. They exchanged a few more words and « I love you » to each other and they ended the call. 

It took about thirty seconds for Marshall to make up his mind : screw dinner, screw work, he was flying home. When he decided to adopt Lily, he promised himself to love her, care for her and never do anything to hurt her, and there was no way he would stay in LA while knowing his baby was sad because of him. What kind of father and husband would that make him, leaving his hormonal pregnant wife to pick up his slack ? In five minutes, he packed everything he had in the guest bedroom he occupied at Dre’s house and went downstairs, carrying his bag. 

Ready for dinner ? Dre asked before seeing he had his bag in hand. Oh… 

Sorry man, he said. I have to fly home. 

Anything wrong ? His mentor asked. 

Upset daughter, exhausted pregnant wife, guilty me, he summed up. 

Pregnant wife, huh ? 

Shit. Wasn’t supposed to tell you, he chuckled. But, yeah. Twins. 

Congrats, man, Dre said as he dapped him. Alright. Go back to the family, we’ll pick up sometimes soon. 

Sure, he said. Thanks. Dinner’s on me, I already put my card down at the restaurant. Say bye to the guys for me. 

I should have known you’d fly home, Dre grinned. 

Why ? Marshall chuckled. 

Because it’s Lily, Dre replied. As far as you’re concerned, it’s her world and we’re all living in it. 

Ten minutes later, he was in the car, begging an annoyed Paul to arrange for the jet to fly him back to Detroit as soon as possible. The manager tried to argue with him about his schedule and how late it was but he knew him well enough to know that there was no convincing him to stay in California any longer. Six hours later, in the middle of the night, he crossed the threshold to his house, his heart warming up at the sight of his family’s things scattered all over the place. Evidently, Y/N had had her arms full with Lily in the past week and he couldn’t help but wonder how they would manage once the twins would be born. He usually preferred tidy spaces, by far, but the realization that the mess was caused by his growing, loving family put a smile on his face. He let his bags in the foyer and went to the bedroom, where he found Y/N fast asleep in one of his tee-shirts, hugging his pillow. He got undressed and tried not to wake her up, though he failed miserably as she jumped as soon as she felt the dip in the mattress. 

Hey beautiful, he said softly. It’s just me. 

You’re home ? She asked with a confused expression on her face. 

It’s 90°F in California but the bed was too cold without you, he said with a smile. I was missing home. 

She immediately engulfed him in a hug and he took in her lovely scent as he returned the embrace. One week without the love of his life was too much. He sniffed and noticed something different. His cologne. On her. 

Missed me ? He asked with a grin. 

Oh, shut up, Y/N said as she rolled her eyes. You know I need a big if you you to fall asleep. 

I see, he said with a smile. Enjoy the tee-shirt, babe. Soon, you’ll be too fat to put my clothes on. 

And you’ll have to sleep on the couch to give my fat ass some space in bed, she giggled. 

No way, he chuckled with a shake of his head. We’re sleeping together until the end of this pregnancy. The four of us. 

He placed a loving hand on his wife’s stomach. She wasn’t really showing yet, but he could swear it was just a tiny bit rounder than when he had left. Or maybe he was simply too excited. Y/N laid back down and he kissed her tenderly before kissing her stomach as well. 

Hey guys, he said softly. I’m home. Thanks for taking care of your Mama for me. 

They’re beating the shit out of me, she giggled before yawning. Between fatigue and morning sickness, work and taking care of Lily, I’m a mess. Haven’t had the time to clean up much. 

I saw that, he replied with a smile. I’ll take care of Lily and the mess tomorrow, you just rest, alright ? 

Ok, she said before kissing him. I think Lily’s going to be pleased to see you. 

You think ? He asked anxiously. 

She’s mad but she’ll get over it eventually, she shrugged. 

How mad are we talking, exactly ? 

« The time you forgot our anniversary » mad, I think, she chuckled. 

Any chance the Hermès bag works for Lily as well ? He joked. 

You’re not getting our five year-old a designer bag, she warned. And you know what got you forgiven wasn’t the bag, or any of the other thousand fancy presents you bought to suck up to me that day. 

I know, he chuckled. I’ll find a way to make it up to her. Hopefully it doesn’t involve watching Frozen again. 

You’re on your own with this one, buddy, Y/N said. If I have to sing « Let it go » one more time, I am jumping out of the window. 

Buddy ? He asked. One week away from you and I’ve been downgraded from « My love » to « Buddy » ? 

Make up for your absence and we’ll see, homie. 

You’re lucky I slept on the jet and I’m all energized, he grinned before pulling her to him. 

Safe to say they didn’t sleep much that night, making up for the time spent apart. Y/N was fast to blame the horniness on the hormones and he couldn’t help but think to himself that, if that was true, he would have a lot of fun in the upcoming months. After the deed was done, though, she immediately fell asleep in his arms. She did seem exhausted and it was probably a good thing that he was back, so that she could rest as much as possible. A glance at the clock and he noticed that it was almost 8:00. Lily’s wake up time. And time for him to make amends to his baby girl. He put on some clothes and made his way to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast. He was putting everything on a tray, ready to bring it to her bedroom when the doorbell rang, the florist delivering the huge bouquet he had ordered just in time. Bouquet in one hand, tray I the other, he went up the stairs and knocked on the door with his foot before entering. 

Daddy ! Lily said as soon as she saw him. 

Hey bug, he said with a smile. 

She was sitting up in bed, in her pink PJs, her hair still in the bun she wore for the representation. A smile passed on his baby’s face, before being quickly replaced by a frown. Almost as if she suddenly remembered that she was mad at him. Y/N could say what she wanted, that she took a lot after his personality (which was not wrong) she was so her mother. Thankfully, fifty years of life, countless girlfriends and four daughters had taught him a lot when it comes to charm offensive. 

Thought you’d enjoy breakfast in bed, today, he said. Got you some flowers, too. Do you know what they are ? 

Lilies, she said with a smile - and he could see she was trying hard to conceal it. Like me.

That’s right, baby, he grinned. You did amazing at your recital, you know ? Made me proud. 

You missed the recital, Daddy  she said. 

I know, bug, he said as he put the tray and the bouquet on her bedside table. But Mommy FaceTimed me and I still watched you dance, you know ? 

You did ? She asked. 

Of course, he replied. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Uncle Dre, Uncle Fifty and Snoop watched with me, too. 

But it’s not the same, she pointed out. 

I know, he said. Mommy told you I had to work, right ? 

She nodded with a small pout and mumbled something about him usually never working on Saturdays. At five years old, she wasn’t exactly a baby anymore and she was perfectly capable of sensing when things weren’t usual. Seeing the sadness and disappointment in her eyes broke his heart. He sighed and sat on the edge of her bed.

Want to eat, bug ? He asked. I made your favorite pancakes. 

Ok, she said, still frowning. 

You’re mad at me, huh ? 

She nodded as she started eating. He sighed, not sure what he could say. His wife giving him the silent treatment when she was mad at him wasn’t enjoyable, but having your five year-old do it was a nightmare. 

I’m really sorry, he said. 

Will you come to the next year’s ? She asked. 

I… uh… maybe, he said. 

Obviously, this wasn’t the desired answer. She stared at him with her big blue eyes, as if she was giving him an opportunity to correct his answers. He scratched his throat and realized that it was probably time to have a talk about him possibly having to miss some events. 

Look, bug, I might not be able to make it to next year’s recital if it’s a big event, he explained. 

Why ? She asked. You don’t want to see me on the stage ? 

No, no, it’s not that, baby, he said reassuringly. I always want to see you on stage. No one is more proud of you than I am. I want to show up to all of your recitals, but sometimes, there’s a lot of people. 

So ? 

So… You know I make music, right ? He asked. You know that’s my job, and that’s how I make money ?

Yes, she said. In the studio. With the big words I can’t say. 

That’s right, he nodded. Well… A lot of people listen to my music. 

They do ? She asked with a raised eyebrow. 

The side-eye almost made him chuckle. With his level of fame, it would be easy for him to get big-headed but, thankfully, having children usually did a great job in keeping you humble. Rap God or not, his kids usually weren’t too impressed. It had taken years for his eldest to start showing an interest in his music, and Lily was no different. 

They do, he nodded. I’m sort of… famous. So a lot of people know me. You know, the places where we usually go, a lot of people wave and say hi ? 

Yes, she said. 

They’re not my friends, he said. They know me from my music. 

Ok, she said, still not seeing what he was getting at. 

Usually, people are very nice to me, and it’s not a big deal, but if I turn up at a big event, a lot of people might come and talk to me. Like… A lot of people, he explained. And if I show up to one of your big events where the press is, people are going to take pictures and if they see you with me, they might start bugging you. 

Really ? She asked. 

Yes. And, as your Dad, it’s my job to be there for you, but a most important part of the job is to make sure that no one bothers you, he added. So, if you have these big events, I’m super proud of you, and I want to be there but, sometimes, I’m going to have to watch from somewhere else. I will always try to show up, and I can do it if it’s small events for school and stuff, but big events with thousands of people is a bit harder.

Oh. Ok, she said with a hint of disappointment. 

But no matter if I’m here or not, I’m always super proud of you, you know ? And I never want to make you sad, he added. 

So, it’s not that you like work more ? She asked with pleading eyes. 

Of course not, bug, he said as he stroked her cheek. Work will never be more important than you. Never. 

Ok, she said with an understanding face. 

Are you still mad at me ? He asked. 

No, she shrugged. But I’m still sad. 

Let me make it up to you, ok ? He suggested. How about we spend the day together, just the two of us ? We can do whatever you want. 

She nodded with a sly smile and, deep down, though he was relieved to see her smile, he knew he was doomed. And, indeed, she made him go through the labour of Hercules. They went to walk Winky, the corgi they got her for her fifth birthday and then, she wanted to go for some ice cream. She knew full well she wouldn’t be allowed to have it so soon after breakfast, but she reminded him that he said they could do « whatever she wanted », while making puppy eyes at him. He obliged and took her to her favorite ice cream place, at the mall. Thankfully, it was Sunday so there weren’t a lot of people around. The two security guards, dressed in regular civilian clothes so as not to attract attention, were almost unnecessary. It was one of the perks of living in Detroit : not as many people as NYC or LA, no paparazzis, not so many tourists and, mostly, people either didn’t recognize him (perks of dressing with regular, inexpensive clothes for everyday life) or treated him as part of the scenery. He knew full well that, if he had lived elsewhere, everyone would know about his marriage, him adopting Lily and his wife being pregnant. Thankfully, though, he was able to maintain a private family life and prayed that it would remain this way for as long as possible. At the mall, they saw a poster for Taylor Swift’s album and Lily was really excited. 

Daddy, when you say you’re famous… Do you mean like her ? Lily asked. 

Yes, he said. Kind of like her. A bit more. I’ve been doing this for a long time, you know ? Longer than her.

Because you’re old ? She asked. 

Older, he grimaced. 

Mommy says you’re old, she pointed out with a giggle. 

Well I’m going to have to have a talk with Mommy, he said as he rolled his eyes. 

Lily ended up dragging him to what seemed to be every single store of the mall. Ice cream shop. Build A Bear. Clothing stores. Toy stores. They finally went home after he spent an ungodly amount of money but the smile on Lily’s face was worth it. However, the day was still young and his daughter was clearly not done. Once they were home, she insisted on having a princess tea party with him and the two bears they made at the mall, so he found himself on the floor of her bedroom, drinking juice in a teacup while she applied makeup on his face. He inspected himself in the mirror. 

Are you sure that’s the exact same way you had your makeup done for your dance recital ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Yes, she nodded. Just like that. But I had whiskers because I was a mouse.

Mmmh, ok, he said as he tried to hold a chuckle. I need the whiskers then. 

When his wife came to see them, she burst out laughing as soon as she saw him. 

Are you guys having fun ? She asked with a grin. 

Time of our lives, he said sarcastically. Right Lily ? 

Yes, she said. Daddy said we can do whatever I want today. 

Is that so ? Y/N asked. Looks like Daddy should be more careful with his words. 

Aren’t I the prettiest princess in all the land ? Marshall asked. 

Yes my love, she giggled. Though I believe a princess would have a proper manicure. 

Mommy can I have your nail polish for Daddy ?! Lily suddenly exclaimed. 

I’ll bring it right away, Y/N said with an evil grin. 

I can divorce you. I have my lawyer on speed-dial, he warned - but she was already gone. 

Of course, Y/N just had to join the fun and get in on the torture. He loudly complained but, in truth, he was too happy to see the smiles on the faces of two of his favorite girls as they did his nails. 

Starting to miss Dre’s house ? Y/N asked. 

Missed you girls too much, he said. I don’t think I could get such an… artsy manicure in California. 

Do you like it, Daddy ? Lily asked proudly. 

Oh, sure, he said. I never thought my cuticles could use sparkly nail polish all over them, but I was clearly missing out. 

You’ll be so pretty for tonight, his daughter said. 

Tonight ? He asked. 

Your daughters are coming for dinner, Y/N said. I didn’t tell them you’re back, it’ll be a nice surprise. Especially if they see you like this. 

No way in hell, he chuckled. 

Not even the nails ? Lily asked with puppy eyes. But you said…

Maybe the nails can stay, he sighed. 

They spent the rest of the day as a family of three and, just when he thought he had dodged a bullet, Lily begged them to watch Frozen. Again. And just like every parent bullied by the smiles and supplication of their little one, they obliged. Y/N fell asleep on Marshall’s shoulder and Lily sang along to Let It Go while coloring his tattoos with highlighters. 

I missed you, Daddy, she said. I’m happy you’re home. 

I’m happy to be home, he said. I missed you too, bug. 

I’m having fun today, she added. 

I’m glad, he chuckled. 

In the evening, the whole family was reunited for dinner and no one missed Marshall’s elegant manicure. This brought back memories for Alaina and Hailie, who used to beg him to do his makeup. Being a girl Dad for about thirty years, he’d certainly had his fair share of tea parties and home spa sessions. He absolutely loved having daughters, though, and if that’s what it took to put a smile on their faces, he would happily endure hours of this. However, he wondered what it would be like, having boys in the house. He was absolutely positive the twins were boys - no specific reason, just a gut feeling. Originally, Y/N and him had agreed not to find out the gender before the birth, but he wasn’t too sure how he could be expected to wait for about seven more months. And he couldn’t wait to hit the twelve week mark either, because keeping the pregnancy a secret from the rest of the family was a nightmare. He was just so excited to be a Dad again and he was so proud that the love of his life was carrying his children. She was already a splendid Mom for Lily and he knew it would be the same for the twins. The conversation shifted and someone pronounced the word « delusional ». 

What’s that word ? Lily asked. 

Delusional ? Hailie said. When someone’s delusional, it means that they believe things that aren’t true. 

Oh ok, she said. Like what ? 

Like believing in San- Stevie began. 

Like Stevie believing she’s getting that new car if she doesn’t pay attention, Marshall scolded with a smile - not wanting Lily to be crushed if she learned Santa wasn’t real. 

Oops, she said. 

Is Daddy  delusional then ? Lily asked. 

Wha- No ? Y/N said confused. Why would he be delusional, baby ? 

Because he thinks he’s more famous than Taylor Swift, Lily explained. 

You don’t believe me ? He asked, almost offended. 

She is really really famous you know ? his daughter explained. You, you’re just Daddy. 

Everyone chuckled and stared lovingly at Lily. They all knew how important it was to Marshall that she be shielded from his fame, also because he didn’t want it to get to her head that her Dad was famous. He kissed the top of her head and smiled. He was fine with the title, really. When he was at home with his children, he was just Daddy, and that was more than fine with him. There was nothing more upsetting to him than Eminem getting in the way of his family life. So he was really fine with her not getting the level of things for now, hoping that he wouldn’t have to miss another event anytime soon. 

When it was time to put Lily to bed, he went with her downstairs to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story. 

Time to sleep, now, baby, he said. Good night. 

I had fun today, Daddy, she said softly. And thank you for the flowers. 

Am I forgiven ? He asked with a smile. 

Yes, she said. 

I love you, you know ? He said softly. And, as much as possible, I promise I will not let work get in the way. I always do my best, you know ? Whether it’s for you, Hailie, Lainey, Stevie or the babies…

What babies ? She asked. 

He stared at her with a hint of panic, internally facepalming himself. Oops. 

Do you know how to keep secrets, baby ? 

[trashmouth-richie]

[vol i] [vol ii] [vol iii]

Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie is slowly becoming easier to live with you’re not sure if you’re just used to his disgusting behavior or if he’s truly trying to change. You make a schedule for chores and when/who/what time showers will be taken, chaos ensues on both Eddie and you. Eddie reveals a side of him that reader hasn’t seen/ noticed before.

W/C: 6.4k

A/N: if you were looking for some disgusting! Eddie smut this is the chapter for you babe.

Warnings: NO MINORS! Smut, blow jobs, rough sexual acts, degrading, daddy!kink, vomit, crude language (as if any of my fics don’t have this)

S/O: @agentmarvel @sweetsweetjellybean @boomhauer @mopeymopeymouse @chestylarouxx @banished-big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @newlips for helping me beta read, come up with dialogue, pacing, letting me insert them throughout the fic, helping me breakdown how this disgusting little mf would act in certain situations + everything in between! You guys are the best! If you aren’t already— follow them.

/

You couldn’t deny that things had gotten better with having Eddie as a roommate (not that you would ever express that to him) but living with the overgrown child was slightly very slightly, like a teeny tiny bit, better than it was before.

After living in his disgusting cluster fuck of a room for a week, Eddie finally sat down amongst his heap of mixed dirty and clean clothes and organized it. The disaster made your eye twitch every time you walked past his room in the morning and got a whiff of his stench, reeking of weed and Doritos, you finally convinced him to get it done, and in typical Eddie fashion— it came with a price.

After bargaining for days and nearly pulling your hair out because all he wanted was a single pair of your panties—

“Why? So you can hold them up like that dork in Sixteen Candles to show all your nerd friends?”

“Babe, the ladies I fuck don’t wear panties.”

He finally settled on a six pack of Busch Light, and for you to do his laundry for a week.

“Remember to separate my delicates, sweetheart.”

Fucking pig.

The only thing delicate about Eddie was his ego when you told him his hair was thinning out on top, (it definitely wasn’t, he had more hair than cousin It) but you needed the upper hand, and criticizing his hair was the way to do just that.

His bed frame and the oak dressers he had ordered, finally arrived. Allowing him to put away his never ending collection of band tee’s and holy jeans. Clearing a path for his floor.

“Holy shit, is that the carpet?” You ask, standing in the door frame before your shift at the salon, toothbrush in your hand, minty dollop of toothpaste atop it.

He’s elbow deep in the dresser, foregoing folding anything but instead shoving the clothes haphazardly into the shallow drawers and slamming them shut with his legs, or his hip.

“Wow, Tooty, you’re hilarious,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes, “but since you asked, yes, it does, match the drapes.”

A smile spreads across his lips. Another normal conversation turning into a sexual innuendo. He couldn’t be prouder of the way you walked right into that. Since you told him what happened to Eyeball he really has been holding back his usual gross behavior, but sometimes it was just a slip of the tongue for him. Involuntary action.

You turn to leave but he stops you, crossing the room at record speed and placing a ringed hand on your wrist, the surprising warmth from his hand burning your skin.

“Hey, uh, can I get your opinion quick?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t think the groupies give a shit what color boxers you wear.”

“Wow, okay— that’s the wrong answer! But I’m talking about this.”

He points to the shelf crammed full of his odd knick knacks. It originally belonged to Nancy, but she had left it behind. Inside of it were a hoard of books. Lord of the Rings, something that looked like manuals for Dungeons & Dragons—of course he’s still playing that— a plethora of Stephen King books, and a full— more than likely sticky— stack of playboys. Go figure.

“What about it?”

“Do you think it looks good here or should I move it under the window?” Eddie asks, hands out wide measuring and comparing in arms length the distance under the window and the width of the book shelf.

You take a step into his room, every square inch of wall was covered in posters, your former bed sheets graffitied with his band, hung on one wall, the opposite held a kitchen knife stabbed through the drywall.

“What are you trying to do, feng shui?”

“Bless you.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “You sneezed, and me, being the pinnacle Christian son that I am, I blessed you, now should I keep this here?”

It took you a minute to comprehend what the hell just happened and why.

“Blessed by Eddie Munson— that’s the biggest oxymoron I’ve ever heard,” you snort, a smile twisted on your lips as you look at the overgrown man child huff about where to put his shelf, shoving your toothbrush into your mouth, “looks fine there.”

-

He did start cleaning up after himself, even offering to vacuum the living room in exchange for you making supper most nights. Begging you to make the lasagna again after he ate almost the entire pan the last time. He even decided to get take out on his one night a week to cook. Thank God because you couldn’t handle one more night of burnt, made-in-the-toaster, grilled cheese or using orange juice as a replacement when the milk was gone for cereal.

You learned the hard way that you needed to buy two separate gallons of milk, after watching Eddie drink straight from the jug, a dripping white mustache formed on his upper lip as he licked it suggestively, “Got milk?” He’d ask before roaring with laughter.

-

The next few weeks with Eddie as your roommate went rather smoothly. With you working at the salon and him working long hours at Boom’s Auto shop, you two came home at almost the same time every night. He would show up covered in grease and reeking of motor oil. His work coveralls, branding a white and red labeled patch with his name on them, had the sleeves cut off, showcasing his muscled arms and the wide array of tattoos prickling up and down them, shoulder to wrist. He wore a sweaty bandana wrapped around his head, rotating between a black or a red one, depending on the day.

You didn’t mind doing his laundry since his pockets were always full of either loose bills or the occasional joint, which you would keep, and smoke later with Robin and Steve, giggling watching the stars as you laid out on blankets in the backyard.

On Saturday nights, he usually played with the band, scoring a gig at the Hideout or working at the bar til closing time, helping Tom bartend a little until Walt got back from vacation. He stumbled in at night knocking over a lamp and almost falling backwards down the basement steps. He’d pass out for a greater half of the next day, waking in the afternoon with a raspy voice and smelling like cheap cologne.

One particular Sunday morning, he stumbled out of his room, wearing black boxer briefs, and a sleepy grin, rubbing his eyes like a little kid.

“Mornin’” he grumbled opening the fridge and diving in for his notorious pickles, tilting it to his lips and drinking straight from the jar.

You shake your head, sitting at the table and sorting through the mail. Your hair in a clip and wearing an oversized crew neck sweater, your mauve fingernails flicking through the envelope flaps, jotting down what’s due and when. “It’s 1 in the afternoon, Eddie.”

He smacks his lips loudly and faces you, fishing a pickle from the jar with his bare hands, “metal has no time limits, Tooty, we play until the bar shuts down.” He makes his way towards you, wearing one sock and chomping on his pickle.

You notice something on his stomach, a new tattoo? Maybe? Riding low on his waist and almost dipping below his underwear. The closer he gets you can make out the writing, a permanent marker phone number from a groupie written on his lower abs.

You point your pen towards his stomach, “gonna get that thing tattooed on, make it official, that Eddie the freak Munson has at least one adoring fan?”

He looks down, a smile pressing on his lips, “aww no need to be sad sweetheart,” he says lowering himself into a chair beside you, “there’s plenty of me to go around, and besides, I thought good little nuns couldn’t fuck, saving themselves for God.. or are you one of the dirty ones, showing your tits for cash so you can gamble?” He winks and laughs as you shove his shoulder trying to throw him out of the chair.

“You’re so gross!”

“And yet, I’m still here.” the Cheshire Cat smile planted on his lips.

Still. You had to admit, no matter how nasty his jokes were or how annoying he could be— having Eddie around wasn’t that bad.

-

“Tooty!” Eddie yells through the bathroom door bouncing from one foot to another, banging on the door with an open palm, “I’m going to piss my pants if you don’t hurry up!”

You had only been in the shower for ten minutes. When you walked past his room this morning with sleepy eyes and a deep yawn, metal music blared from his bedroom along with the annoying beep of his alarm clock, but the prince of filth was fast asleep.

“The schedule that you made says I get the bathroom first on Fridays, which is today!”

The schedule you had designed for Eddie and yourself consisted of 7 vertical columns one for each day of the week, and 5 horizontal columns: showering, laundry day, dishes, cooking, garbage. You had more days in the cooking column than Eddie, just like he had more days in the garbage column than you did. It evened out.

“Wrong— you were supposed to get the bathroom at 7, it’s now past 7:30 so it’s my turn,” you correct, putting a generous amount of body wash on your loofah and foaming it up, white suds cleansing your skin, “not my fault you can’t wake up to your alarm.”

“Christ, seriously just open the door! I’m fuckin’ dancing around out here like a little kid!”

“Can’t hear you,” you sing out to him, laughing silently beneath the spray of water.

You hear the feverish jiggle of the brass handle on the door and heavy footsteps as he stomps away. Oh the joys of victory. You bask in the delight of getting a one up on Eddie. Something that rarely happened in the few weeks he has been living with you. Slathering conditioner in your hair and rinsing, you exit the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day.

Opening the bathroom door you expected Eddie to barrel through you to get to the bathroom, you’re taken aback when you hear faint yelling coming from outside.

“… piss in the front yard of my own house— I will! Go back to trimming your hedges with your toddler sized shorts and mind your own goddamn—,”

“Eddie!”

He’s standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn, his navy boxer briefs the only clothing he has on. Double middle fingers raised in the early morning sky aimed towards your neighbor across the street, Mr. Derry, the neighborhood watch dog. He was an older man, no kids, no wife. Retired. And a grade A pain in the ass.

Eddie turns and looks to you, pink blush creeping over his cheeks, “…business.” Eyes wide in innocence as if he hasn’t done anything wrong.

You’re still in your towel, hair soaking wet down your back, watching as this crazed lunatic you have as a roommate terrorizes the neighborhood, one flash of his dick at a time.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him towards the front door.

“Gracing the common folk of Cherry Lane with my morning wood, yeah take a picture and frame it you fuckin’ perv!”

Yanking harder you get him inside and slam the door. Your cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.

You open your mouth to speak but Eddie has already started explaining.

“Listen, I had to piss bad, like really bad. You could have just unlocked the door but no, Ms. Uptight-independent Tooty with your rules and schedules—” he stops and takes a breath. After your conversation a few weeks ago about the downfall of Eyeball and your own family abandoning you, Eddie had been trying to be more reasonable about things, more cautious about the way he worded things. Not trying to twist the knife lodged into your chest that had been driven there years ago.

“So I made up my own rule! If you’re gonna take forever shaving your legs or…other things…” his eyes cast down your body. The white towel snug against your form, you clutch it tighter around you as his eyes stare through the towel, begging to catch a glimpse of your wet, smooth skin. Water droplets taunting him as they fall down the slick of your hair. He shakes his head to clear his gutter mind. “I’m going to take matters into my own hands, and believe me princess, it was a handful.”

That’s about as dialed back as Eddie could be.

“You can’t just piss in the front yard! This neighborhood is not like the trailer park, that asshole you called a perv—“

“He was! He was looking right at my dick!”

“— once called the cops on Nancy because she parked by his curb when we were having her bridal shower.”

“Wa-wait, Nancy fucking Wheeler got the cops called on her?”

“Yeah, Hop wasn’t too happy to find out what it was for, calling Derry a waste of space.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh I’m not surprised— him and I go way back, remember?”

Of course you did, he busted Eddie too many times driving higher than the Empire State Building while bringing you, Dustin, Will and Mike back to the Wheeler’s. It was almost a running joke between him and Hopper. Eddie would slip him a joint while in the back of his patrol vehicle and away he went, no ticket, no charge, nothing.

“Anyway,” you jeer, pointing a finger into his bare chest, the tip of your nail making a half moon indent into the head of the bloody demon inked on his left pec, “he’s a fucking asshole so don’t piss him off, he’ll make our lives hell.”

“Fine,” Eddie groans, running his hands down his face “but he was gawking!”

You roll your eyes and grab your hair dryer from your room. An adjustment you’ve had to do since Eddie moved in, getting ready partly in your room and in the bathroom. After your hair is dried and styled, you opt for a pair of light wash overall shorts, and a thick strapped, high neck tank top underneath. You finish your makeup by applying a coat of Revlon’s Toast of New York on your lips. Sliding on your knock off Doc Marten sandals, you grab your purse and head for the door.

Eddie’s sitting at the kitchen table, chair pulled out as he laces up his black work boots, body bent over his knee as he jerks his hand side to side, lazily working the laces through the hook eyelets.

“Still getting groceries tomorrow?” He asks, shoving his white cotton covered foot into his other boot, repeating the process. “I added some essentials to the grocery list.” He gestures to the pad and paper with a tilt of his chin.

Scanning the list you laugh, “Dunkaroos are not essential.”

“Don’t you dare cross them off!” Eddie fake shouts, a grin stretching across his lips, showing off his straight teeth.

“I’m off tomorrow and don’t have many clients today— I know it’s your night to cook, but I was thinking of making tater tot casserole for supper, I’ll just have to stop and get some ground beef from Bradley’s before I come home.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie lamented, “I have a gig tonight instead of tomorrow at the Hideout,” he says standing, running his hands down his legs to shake down his coveralls. “It’s probably going to be late, so don’t worry about making anything.”

Ripping the grocery list from the pad and stuffing it into your purse, you think back to how long it has been since you’d seen them play. You went along to support Chrissy and since Eddie was Kev’s longtime best friend and basically your chauffeur, you at least owed it to him to go with. A memory of you head banging and holding Chrissy’s hand tight as you both screamed for Corroded Coffin clouded your mind.

Threading your purse straps through your fingers and casting your eyes downward you have to know, “… you guys still play Lady Evil?”

Eddie grins again, “wouldn’t be a Corroded Coffin gig if we didn’t play some Sabbath, Jeff would probably throw a hissy fit.”

-

Friday evenings were usually busy in the shop. Boom ran a tight ship and paid better than any auto shop in a thirty mile radius. Eddie was lucky to get hired on using his street smarts and the fact that he was the unpaid mechanic of the trailer park for every banged up old sedan that his neighbors had since he was sixteen.

The old radio crackled and fussed as Hank Williams Jr sang about the survival rate of country boys. Boom whistled along with the tune. Running his tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a Mr. Pibb and a ham sandwich in front of him.

“So Eddie,” he says leaning back in his plastic chair, “I heard from the boys that you moved into a house on Cherry Lane. Damn boy, I thought that trailer park ran deep in your blood.”

Eddie throws his empty Mt. Dew can into the trash, missing by a mile. “Ahh Boom, you know I’m the prince of the park. Just stretching my city legs, helping out a friend.”

“Didn’t know you and Eyeball’s sister were close.” Aaron sneered, lighting up a cigarette with a strike of a match against his boot.

Eddie’s light hearted demeanor immediately changed, smile fading and eyebrows pulling together, “what the hell does that mean?”

“Helping out a friend?” Sean spat, his wiry mustache shriveled into a snarl, “what are you Mother Teresa? The only help that bitch needs is a fucking lobotomy.”

“Hey,” Eddie interjects, pointing a greased finger into Sean’s face, “don’t fucking talk about her like that, man.”

Aaron talks around his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table, “It’s true, she’s smokin’ fuckin’ hot but crazier than a shit house rat.”

The pair laugh, choking on smoke and bits of crusty bread.

“Remember what Chad said about her?” Aaron laughed..

“Fuck yeah how did he put that? Don’t marry the girls with the daddy issues, even if they let you put it in their a—”

Eddie slams his fists into Sean’s shirt, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him against the wall, “another word, about her— and I’ll break your fuckin’ nose.”

“You threatenin’ me Munson?” Sean chokes out.

Eddies eyes are crazed as he glares in Sean’s, “never a threat, pencil dick, it’s a promise.”

“Fellas,” Boom hollers, shoving his chair back with an eerie scratch, metal legs scraping on broken tile, “I’ll send ya both home for the day with no pay if y’all don’t knock it the fuck off.”

Eddie shoves Sean into the wall hard once more, releasing his grip on his shirt and adjusting his rings. He cracks his knuckles as he stomps back through the bay doors and out to the Buick he had been working on.

Ducking under the hood his breathing is erratic and his fists are shaking.

He never asked what happened with you and Chad but by the sounds of it, it sure as hell didn’t end on good terms.

It was fine if he teased you, but hearing it from anyone else wasn’t gonna fly with him. Not today, not ever. But something about the way you opened up to him, showed him your vulnerable side, it made him almost protective of you, like he needed to shield you from the ugliest parts of the world.

He never would have thought that Eyeball’s little sister, tough little Tooty, the same girl who punched Billy Hargrove in the face after pinching her ass one night, would make him care so much.

-

“Told ya he’s cool,” Steve slurs over his Bloody Mary, clinking the ice in the glass as he tips it back into his mouth, “he’s like a wild animal, but once you get to know him— he’s just a tattooed teddy bear.”

You, Robin and Steve were out for dinner and drinks at Louie’s, the newer sports bar in Hawkins, sitting under an emerald and white striped umbrella in the hot humid summer air. A monthly ritual you started ages ago when you all worked at Family Video. Only back then you went to Benny’s to get burgers and concrete thick milkshakes, racing to see who could finish first which ultimately ended in Robin getting a stomach ache, every time.

“I could have killed him the first few days,” you say, sipping your Malibu and Diet Coke through two neon straws, “honestly, still debating it.”

Robin steals the pickle spear and celery stick from Steve’s drink, munching away and talking with a mouthful, Steve simply rolls his eyes and reaches for another mozzarella stick, “wait, I thought you guys were getting along better now.”

“They are!” Steve interjects, pointing the mozzarella stick around like he was directing an orchestra, “I asked him myself when I brought my car to Boom’s yesterday for an oil change.”

The thought of your friends asking your roommate, who just so happens to also be their friend, how things were going between you both, made your stomach lurch.

“Well,” Robin began, twirling her pina colada and biting into the yellow flesh of the pineapple , “I’m just glad you aren’t by yourself anymore. It freaked me out knowing you were there alone.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Before Eddie had moved in, Steve gave you his prized nail bat to keep by your bed. So far you haven’t had to use it. And with Eddie in the house, it was stored in your closet.

“Alright, I’ll admit,” you say, taking a long drink, feeling the warmth of the coconut flavored alcohol mix with the Diet Coke bubbles, a frenzy on your tongue, “he’s come a long way,” you admit, dunking a fry into the mayo ketchup concoction, “finally house broke.”

It was the truth, you really didn’t mind him being around.

-

“Shh, gotta be quiet girls, daddy’s gonna take real good care of you, but seriously, you need to shut up.”

The girls laugh, drunk off bottom shelf liquor and Jell-O shots from the Hideout. Three pairs of tangled legs stumble through the front door as Eddie hurriedly works his keys into the lock.

The two of them giggle and hush one another, planting kisses on either side of his neck and stepping out of their shoes. His leather jacket hits the floor, the shirt he was wearing was ripped to shreds from the collar down. Carol’s fingers feverishly tore at his clothing before the three of them even made it to the van.

Foregoing the zipper on the tight leather mini dress she’s wearing, Eddie shoves it down her hips, giving her ass a firm squeeze, toying with the fishnet tights, “these stay on,” he demands, slapping her ass and unzipping his jeans, a parade of cheap lingerie, and leather studded clothing start from the front door and end in Eddie’s bedroom.

Your car wasn’t home which was odd but maybe it was parked in the garage. He wasn't sure where you were but if you were sleeping he didn’t want to wake you up. You had never discussed any boundaries about him bringing someone home, but what kind of rockstar would he be if he turned down hot twins?

They had approached him after the show, twisting their evil tongues into his mouth and groping him as soon as he got backstage.

Jeff was in the back room with his long time girlfriend Ash, they were holding each other tight as he kissed her neck and she squealed into his ear.

The girl who showed up to every gig, Marissa, wearing her signature “here for the drummer” shirt, was currently bent over the bathroom sink, Gareth buried deep inside her.

Even Big D was getting some action, the waitress from Benny’s, Emily, was currently bobbing along on his dick.

All of them were getting lucky, a win for Corroded Coffin. The girls were screaming for them, bras and panties tossed on stage, Gareth sporting multiple pairs around his neck. The old bar flies drunk off beer on tap were singing along to the requested songs.

Cece’s pink floral dress is brought over her head as Eddie sucks her nipple into his mouth, teasing and biting as Carol kneels at his feet and works her palm into his boxers, gasping at the hardened length in her grip.

A monster lies beneath the cotton. Almost as thick as her forearm, her dainty fingers unable to reach fully around his girth. She pumps him slow, releasing his throbbing cock.

His fingers twist into their hair as he shoves Cece down to her knees, joining Carol in the worship of Eddie Munson’s dick. Their greedy mouths take him in, one popping his balls into her mouth the other choking on his fat cock.

Eddie wasn’t gentle when he fucked groupies. He took what he wanted and didn’t leave any room for complaints or questions. Shut off from the gentle loving side sex can bring and only seeing red, it was like he was a mad man. A different person entirely. Truly the horns of satan poked through his forehead and his eyes clouded over revealing a black veil of sin.

Demon eyed.

He was pissed from what happened earlier at work. Fucking insane with rage at Sean and Aaron talking shit about you.

Not you, not Tooty.

His frustration builds as the sound of lungs gasping for air fills his ears.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, “Jesus Christ— don’t you wanna be good for daddy? Open that fuckin’ throat up and take what I give to you.”

He grabs Cece’s hair and thrusts himself in her mouth, ignoring her tears as she gags and swallows him whole. “Are you crying? Poor fucking baby, what a shame, on the bed now.” He grabs her up by the throat and tosses her onto the bed.

He’d kill Chad if he ever saw him again. Still had no idea what he did or why you two broke up but hearing his mantra spill from those asshat’s mouths today was enough to make his skin crawl.

The vulgar shit they were saying. The way they non chalantly said it like they were reciting their McDonald’s order. Fuck that bothered him.

Cock swinging, Eddie pinches Carol’s nipples until she’s standing, he flips her upside down, fucking into her open mouth as he bites her fishnet tights open and spits on her pussy. Tossing her on the bed like discarded trash he slaps both of their asses.

He tries to blur you away from his mind, separate you from his brain for a while to release this pent up anger. But all he can see are the small tears falling from your eyes when you tell him the truth about your family.

The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day.

Shaking his head he bounds to his bed, trying like hell to focus on his task at hand.

“Are my little whores ready? Think you can handle this without tearing up?”

-

When Steve drops you off you’ve already puked in his car, twice. When he announced that drinks were on him tonight, you may have been double fisting Jack and Cokes with Robin, and taking vodka shots, racing to see who could finish first.

Robin passed out in the back of his car, snuggled up with the cold leather on her cheek.

“Steeb, I’m fine, seriously! Look how good I’m walking.”

“That’s because I’m carrying you.” Steve huffs as he opens the front door.

You’re slurring your words and talking in a volume that could raise the dead, “You’re such a good friend Stephen, why? Why why why are you single?” You hiccup, the remnants of your vomit lingering on your breath, “You need a wife!”

“Tooty, we can talk about my failed love life another day,” Steve grunts, carrying you into the house, stepping over boots and skimpy clothing, “for now let’s get you to the bathroom so you can get cleaned up and maybe puke in the toilet this time!”

“I just wanna go to bed. I’m tired,” you whine, “Stoven bring me to my room, let me go to sleep!”

Ignoring you, Steve brings you to the bathroom and plops you down on the floor, opening the toilet lids just in time for you to blow chunks all over.

“Ooh that one looks like a mozzarella stick.”

“Jesus, I’m never letting you two idiots drink again! I’m always your goddamn babysitter, it’s so annoying.” Steve laughs, riddling your hair. Ever since you stepped foot into Family Video at fifteen, looking for a job, the three of you were inseparable. “You think you’re gonna be okay? I gotta get that other shit head home before she pukes in the backseat, I already have to clean the front.”

“Oh no! I didn’t know you threw up!”

Steve rolls his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.

“See you tomorrow, I’ll call you okay?” His face is pulled into concern, eyebrows raised and pinched together

You salute him and wave, laughing at his mop of hair flopping around as he turns to leave. Struggling for at least ten minutes to get your denim overall shorts unbuckled, cursing and giggling at your own drunken stupor. You finally manage to get them un done shucking them off your legs, leaving your upper body covered by your tank top, the black panties you were wearing still on. Sliding your arms around your back you manage to unhook your bra and thread it through your shirt, tossing it into the shower beside you. Exhausted, you rest your head on the toilet bowl— falling into a dizzy sleep.

-

“Cece, come here!” Carol whispers loudly. She’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom, mouth agape at the sight of the slumped over figure hugging the toilet bowl.

“Holy shit!” She says, emerging from Eddie’s bedroom. “Is that? No fucking way.”

“I didn’t know he was screwing her too!” Carol breathes jealousy spewing from her lips.

“You really think he’d want to fuck that? Look at her! She’s a walking basket case. I heard that her family moved away because she wigged out and tried to kill her own mom.”

“Actually, the rumor is that I killed them all,” you add, raising your sleepy drunk face from the toilet, seeing double and trying not to puke on the spot, you try to stand, using the toilet to support your weight as you push off from it, wobbling horrifically.

“Get the fuck out,” you say, vision dancing as you try to point to the front door, holding onto the sink to stabilize yourself wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, “now.”

“Yeah?” Cece spits, folding her arms across her chest, “you gonna make us? Last I checked we were guests—“

“Not anymore,” Eddie hissed, adjusting the waist of his sweatpants as he looks into the bathroom at your disheveled appearance. Your makeup is smeared from throwing up, you’re half naked and barefoot, clutching onto the sink. Your overalls are covered in puke, and in a heap of vomit on the floor, a purple bra hangs over the edge of the tub. He wedges himself into the bathroom between you and the two girls, covering you with his tall frame from their view. His nostrils are flared and his chest is puffed out, “you heard her, get the fuck out.”

“What the fuck Eddie?!” Carol gripes, looking into his mad eyes.

He glares back, bored with her, “Did you really think you were gonna stay the night?” He prods, “Please, you can’t be that fucking stupid. Get your shit and go.”

“We live across town!” Cece squeaks, face pulled into shock and humiliation.

“Don’t care.”

Carol crosses her arms and glares into his eyes, “It’s late!”

“And?” He asks glaring back, and pushing through them, “Here let me help.”

Eddie takes their purses and shoes, tossing them out the front door into the yard. Pointing to the open door and fuming, he spits, “Out.”

The girls leave screeching ‘fuck you’s’ as they walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the night.

He turns back to the bathroom, hearing you vomit again, one small glance and he can tell you hit the sink at least, puke splattering all over— the same reaction if you held a spoon under running water.

He turns around and comes back with the cleaner and a roll of paper towels, gagging with each wipe of the sink as he cleans it up.

Your crumbled body is slumped over the toilet again.

“Gonna live? Or should I call the coroner.” He says leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a look of worry on his face.

“ ‘s Robin’s fault,” you mumble, voice echoing in the toilet bowl, “woulda been fine if it wasn’t for the sh—,” you gag thinking of the vodka, “—shots, I’m usually not like this.”

Eddie sits on the side of the tub. You’re wasted and half dressed. He was a lot of things but taking advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t him. He finds your robe hanging in its designated spot, and drapes it across your bare shoulders.

“Sit up a bit,” he instructs. With great effort you sit up, almost falling backwards but Eddie catches you, careful of his hand placements not wanting to graze you in your inebriated state. He helps you sit and you put your arms through the holes of the robe. He reaches gently around your middle to tie it. Putting delicate pressure on your back as he leans you forward towards the toilet. You hum with satisfaction as your face feels the cool plastic of the toilet seat. Fighting the urge to rub your back.

“I’m dying, you can have the house when I’m gone, scatter my ashes in the rose bushes out back.” You say with a whine. Groaning as your stomach churns again, puking up more and more of the mixed alcohol you drank earlier in the night.

“Need some water?” Eddie guesses.

You nod your head, feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds you set it back down.

He leaves and comes back from the kitchen with a glass of water, swirly straw included. Tapping your shoulder he hands you the Disney cup, taking a long pull from the straw, you set the cup down on the linoleum floor.

“Thanks.”

“Agh, you’ll be alright. The porcelain Gods and I are great friends— well we used to be back in high school. I haven’t prayed to them in a while,” he says with a chuckle. Sliding down against the wall behind you, sitting on the cold floor.

“Don’t forget the time you and Kev ate those shrooms and puked all night in the basement of our house.” You mutter, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and flushing the toilet.

That was a night Eddie would never forget, he was only sixteen, and he somehow scored some homemade brownies and shrooms from one of the seniors. Being young and dumb, him and Eyeball each ate three brownies and an entire bag of shrooms. The high was insane, but the aftermath was death. He hasn’t touched shrooms since.

“Shit,” Eddie exclaims, “how old were you? Ten?”

“ ‘leven,” you say, holding your elbows on the toilet seat and your head in your palms, “old enough to know you and Kev didn’t magically get the flu at the same time.”

“Man we were dumb,” he says with a laugh, rubbing his chin with his hand.

“Were?” you say slyly.

“Easy, I’m not the one who can’t hold their liquor, Princess.”

“Oh Jesus please no more mention of it or I will barf—again.”

He stands to leave, laughing and stretching his arms out over his head as a small yawn escapes him. Exhausted from the day's events: work, concert, threesome— ain’t no way he’d be up before noon tomorrow— you either.

“Think I’m gonna go to bed, you going to be okay?”

Sitting up and looking at Eddie for the first time tonight, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re drunk, but it’s almost as if it’s the very first time you’ve seen him. His amber colored eyes are surrounded by a forest of black eyelashes, his mop of curly hair hanging in them slightly, smooth pink lips, surprisingly full, a sharp jaw with a days worth of stubble, his veiny neck dances as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His shoulders are thick snaking down to muscled forearms, veins protruding from them, his hands are easily double the size of yours, thick fingers adorned with the same chunky stupid rings he’s worn forever. His broad chest stretches across his ribs, nipples pierced since the 80’s. He stands with confidence. His slender waist with the tiniest patch of hair ducking into the gray waistband of his hanes boxer briefs. And the prettiest alabaster skin peeking out from his collection of black tattoos.

Mouth suddenly dry, you stutter, “I—I’m done throwing up, gonna go to my bed.”

You stand on Bambi’s legs, hitting the wall hard with your shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie laughs and scoops you up making sure he’s holding under your bent knees and around your upper arms. He carries you to your bed, his skin burning hot against your cheek. He lays you down, throwing the blankets over your head for good measure, trying like hell to ignore the flutter in his stomach as you huff and pout pulling your eyebrows inward and frowning as you place your blankets to your liking.

“Get some sleep Tooty.” Eddie says all too softly. Pushing your cute sleepy face from his mind, rocking back on his heels as he starts to leave your room.

“Eddie?” You call after him, your small voice ripping through him like a knife. “Thank you, seriously. For everything.”

Shaking his head back and forth, his wild hair flows like a curtain around him in the dark as he leaves your room, “you owe me,” he says with a small grin, shutting the door behind him.

//

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/

SEE YOU IN VOLUME: V

[volume: 5]

putting random symbols in hopes that read more will eat this instead of the last paragraph 😩

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[melbatron5000]

Murder Board 2.0

Updated 9/18/24

Since I've figure a few things out, I need to re-do my Murder Board. New answers, new questions.

What I think I know:

Hints given out by NG are suspect at best. (I cannot blame him or anyone else on the cast or crew -- they spent A LOT of time and energy building this very meticulous puzzle game for us -- why would ANY of them give ANY of it away? That would ruin all the fun!)

Lots of the discontinuity of Season 2 can be explained by POV switches between characters. See here and here for more. I think the title/location cards are also probably POV Clues, that needs a closer look.

Crowley gave something to Aziraphale in his mouth when they kissed. It's the fly. Now, what else was in the fly besides Gabriel's memory? RECORDS. Incriminating records that are why the Metatron let Beelzebub and Gabriel go, but nailed Aziraphale. The Metatron knows Gabriel has those records, he doesn't know they got passed to Aziraphale.

Saraqael and Crowley and by proxy, Aziraphale are all working together. See here and here for more. That explains A. the tiny miracle blowing up into a 25 Lazarii miracle. It didn't. They had to cover for something else that did. B. Saraqael showing the archangels the book shop in 2019 in the spy hole. C. Crowley's spy turtle neck and where he went during Aziraphale's Job flashback. D. Why Saraqael helps him see the trial in Heaven. (Oh! Muriel's now in on it, too!)

Crowley's memory is fine, it's a red herring. It might mean something else, though. I think he is dissing Furfur, he is denying knowing Saraqael even after she gives him a reason to recognize her to hide that they are working together. He tells Jim he doesn't remember why they invented gravity, but that whole scene is from Aziraphale's perspective, so the conversation likely didn't actually go just like that.

Shax is on a mission besides Gabriel -- she's looking for whatever Aziraphale and Crowley are hiding. Gabriel is a side-mission.

The hand-washing comment from Crowley in the Resurrectionists minisode -- he tells DaVinci about helicopters in Good Omens the novel. It's just a thing he can do.

What is up with Maggie? Maggie's freaking Jesus 2.0. She's what Shax is looking for, and who Crowley, Aziraphale, and Saraqael are hiding. Also, where is God? God is busy being Maggie, that's where. That's why Crowley says "Oh God" before his speech in the final fifteen. He's bringing up what they're hiding, reminding Aziraphale that someone has to stay and keep an eye on Maggie. That's why he can't go. Now, how the FUCK did Jesus 2.0 wind up owning a record store she inherited from her family NEXT TO AN ANGEL?? (Ah, shit, now I'm doubting this one. Now I suspect it's Nina, and Maggie is Mary MAGdeline. Same questions still apply.)

SECRET SONGS??? Why are the songs secret?? I'm losing my mind, what is happening?? I think this is a message that A. Aziraphale and Crowley are okay, and B. We will absolutely be getting part 3 of 1941.

I still think the scenes might be out of order. Is it as simple as watching them in chronological order? Could be.

The Metatron is a naked man. i.e. he was originally HUMAN.

Aziraphale and Crowley are talking in subtext A LOT. Aziraphale's tells are easier to spot than Crowley's. He raises his eyebrows and does vocal bunny rabbit ears, says "um," and "ah." "Our Gabriel miracle," "The establishment in question," "Certainly on to something," "Haven't yet cracked the case." Crowley's tell seems to be being effusive. "Frozen peas," "You wouldn't be interested in love?" "Well, today is your lucky day!" "How do you know I didn't do it?"

We are missing the scenes that should mirror the Resurrectionists minisode. What we do have instead of mirrors to that are Crowley telling the demons they are out of order. He can tell time has been messed with.

There are two Crowleys. I think the head in the book shop is his way of keeping in touch while his twin is off doing things, and the red eyes are him, too. Now, why?? What do they need 2 Crowleys for?

What still needs answering:

The clocks jumping time. And why are the extras moving in double-time when we first arrive to Whickber street?

The weird hand in the 1941 photo.

Aziraphale's chair position being moved still doesn't make sense. Unless Crowley was talking to himself??

The extras behaving strangely.

Crowley's car being in the wrong spot on the road after Shax threatens him.

Weird sounds -- Aziraphale turns to look at a crashing sound when he returns from Edinburgh, to look at a car horn, the very loud clock in the final fifteen BUT ALSO when Jim says he will go out to the demons, nightingale singing when Crowley leaves in the FF.

I'm not sure that POV switches explain Crowley's sunglasses going from silver to black.

I don't know why Aziraphale went to Edinburgh, or why he stopped at the graveyard where Gabriel's statue is, or why he looked like he realized something important while he was there.

Why does Michael do the "nothing's in the box" thing with the matchbox? It's a petty specific action. Someone pointed out that Michael's nails look chewed and terrible, are we meant to stare at the matchbox while something else goes unnoticed? Well, duh. But what?

We most certainly did not get the whole scene where the Metatron is talking to Aziraphale. What else was said?

What did Crowley do during his ALL-NIGHT JAUNT in Heaven? Did he sneak around and steal something? Did he uncover something? Did they hurt him? I think he stole something.

What did Aziraphale do with his briefcase that he took to Edinburgh? We see it in the book shop from his POV, and Edinburgh is seen from Crowley's POV, so they both know it exists. And then it's gone.

Why does Gabriel prophecy with God's voice? IS it God's voice? It's a woman, is it Frances McDormand? It's hard to hear. When he remembers the beginning, I think it's God's voice. When he prophecies, it may be someone else. Frances McDormand has no credit in that episode.

Why the heck did Maggie and Nina go talk to Crowley while the Metatron was talking to Aziraphale? What they had to say wasn't important enough to leave Nina's shop during a rush, and I definitely don't think they derailed Crowley from what he needed to say to Aziraphale, though it might look at first as if they did. So what was that about? Were they trying to speak in husband-code to warn him about the Metatron?

When Shax stops Aziraphale for a ride, he says, "Oh, I really need to get to --" and then is cut off. He really needs to get to where? It's an easy assumption to think he means the book shop, or London. But is that all he means? Or was he on his way somewhere else? And if it was just the book shop, what does he mean he's late? Late for what?

When Crowley leaves Heaven, he tells Saraqael and Muriel to come, too. But in the elevator, Michael and Uriel are there! When the fuck did they show up??

Why does Beelzebub tell Shax to attack the bookstore? Aren't they worried about Gabriel being harmed? And they know Hell is understaffed. Maybe that's why they command it? Because they know Shax won't be able to get many demons?

What about the Masons? It's such a specific thing for the pub owner to bring up, what is the meaning of it? And Maggie has a Mason symbol on her necklace. Did the Masons carve the statue of Gabriel? When did they see him?

The only narration we hear in the entire season is Aziraphale in the Resurrectionist flashback. I believe this is to throw us off the POV character switches all season. But still, why do we only hear him narrate 1 flashback? I think he's reading the diary to himself in the present day. That would explain the end, "And that was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time." He JUST heard the story of the jukebox from Maggie. And Gabriel appearing at the pub -- same city that statue is in. Of course he thought of something important from that diary entry! Now, what did he notice?

Is the Book of Life a real threat? We hear two stories about it, that it's real and that its ability to erase beings was something to scare the cherubs with, this is inconclusive. Crowley gets nervous after Beelzebub talks to him, but I think he's pissed that Heaven and Hell have taken an interest in them again, especially since they're trying to hide Nina!Jesus.

So many promo posters show Aziraphale, Crowley, and Jimbriel together, or symbols of them. Three feathers: two white, one black. Tea cup, cocoa mug, wine glass. The three of them. Not with Beelzebub, not with Muriel, the three of them. And all three of them have been Jesus-coded in some small way. No one else. Those three. What. Why. Are they the sacrifice required to bring about the new world? Why not Beez, then?

The whole collection of Maggie's album's from the Amazon X-ray are great, big CLUES.

A post that I didn't reblog pointed out that the record Aziraphale is listening to when Garbriel shows up is neither Shostakovich nor 21 minutes long. That seems important, but I'm not sure how. (The record is opposite when Crowley gives Aziraphale the fly containing records -- the actual symphony is, according to the original blog, one written by a rebel in contempt of his government. Do the records have to do with the rebellion and fall?)

What the heck does Furfur mean by "little monkey in the waistcoat?" How does that sound like Crowley?

Why does Furfur change the subject when Aziraphale asks where Gabriel and Beelzebub would like to go?

Why does Mrs. H say "for God's sake" two times in a row? No one says that on this show without a meaning.

Shax notices Crowley going to Heaven and makes an epiphany face.

Why is the end credit music for the ball French cafe music? French must be important. And the end credit music for The Hitchhiker is old timey and scratchy, then skips and becomes the same song in a newer, clearer style. Because they repeat the bullet catch trick in the modern day, perhaps?

I thought I heard that Crowley and Aziraphale are in the fly in the opening sequence, but nope. So why are they in a cave?

Why are there multiple elevators and multiple mountains in the opening sequence??? What the hell does that mean?? And multiple Edens?? All right, what's up??

I count at least two times Aziraphale glances right at the camera, probably more. Who is he looking at? Us? Is he looking at Crowley?Why??

When Aziraphale arrives back from Edinburgh, he asks how "everything is with -- mm." Crowley says "he was sleeping, I heard him singing." I don't think they mean Gabriel. At the cafe, Crowley says when Gabriel smites you, you've been smitten. Aziraphale says he isn't "you know who any longer." Again, I don't think he means Gabriel. Who are they hiding?

Repeating themes: (I am just realizing that these aren't just themes, they are all Clues!)

Beverages of all kinds -- tea for Aziraphale, wine or whiskey for Crowley, cocoa for Jim. Oh, and LAUDANUM. And coffee!

Time -- lots of clocks/mentions of time. Everyone notices the ticking clock during the Final Fifteen, but it's ticking loud when the demons attack the ball, too. Also, why is the first scene of Whickber street shown at high-speed? Is time sped up? Or something else?

Love/partnership/togetherness being stronger than separateness

Memories/forgetting/remembering

Payment -- money comes up in both the Resurrectionists minisode and the Flesh Eating Nazi Zombies minisode, but no one pays for anything in present. There is bartering, but no money. Both times money is brought up, it's Crowley using Aziraphale's money, and both times, it's to buy a life. It's funny, but I feel like there's a point to it.

Rising from the dead -- Job's kids (even though they weren't actually dead), bodies used for science, Nazi zombies, the Second Coming. I think this is all just hinting around Jesus -- sure, hinting around Jesus, who we were expecting to show up in Season 3, but she's already here. The hints indicate that she is already on Earth, not going to show up next season.

Unreliable narrators. Because we are seeing the whole show from various characters' points of view. Because of that, we can only see what they know, expect, believe, or understand, but also what they want us to see. We need to take the whole second season with a grain of salt.

Death in general -- but 8a., I'm a dirty pagan, why didn't I make this connection sooner, death always leads to REBIRTH, change, something totally new and 8b. there are tarot cards in the magic shop, and even if you're not a dirty pagan, the Death tarot card means transition, something must die before a new thing can be born. Hmm.

Morality and what is "good" and what is right

Recognition and identity and hiding one's identity. Ah! Probably at least partly because Maggie someone? is Jesus. How would you recognize them? (I think it's Nina now.)

Licenses, permits, permissions, rules, proof, evidence, what's allowed. All of the minisodes mention this, and it all gets mentioned again over and over. Because Heaven and Hell do have rules they have to follow. Which drives home my theory that Gabriel stole some very incriminating records from Heaven when he left, Crowley got hold of them and gave them to Aziraphale during the kiss, and now Aziraphale is going to nail them.

Colors. Lots of colors!! Job's kids are dressed in the colors of Nina, Maggie, and Aziraphale's shops. Jesus on the Resurrectionist Pub sign is in blue and red, blue and red crop up a lot in extra's clothing, as do yellow and red, Crowley colors. The Ladies of Camelot are in red and blue. Aziraphale says Earth will be a blue-green planet, Nina's shop is blue-green.

Horses. Horse statue, horse wine label, people saying "dark horse." The four horsemen again? I feel like they already had their ride, so what the hell? I think it's because season 2 is an echo of season 1, I THINK -- I have to check -- that horses appear or get mentioned when the horsemen have corresponding scenes in season 1.

Numbers. A lot of numbers get said. Does it matter, or am I overthinking?

Repeating words and phrases:

Technically

Properly

Isn't it just?

Too late

Funny old world

Not as such

Made for each other

EVERYWHERE

Obviously

Two shakes of a lamb's tail

Dark horse

What are you/am I? As opposed to WHO. Aziraphale asks in the Land of Uz, and Crowley asks Gabriel.

Are you sure? Quite sure.

The Marvelous Mr. Fell is described as marvelous in his mysterosity, Shax says the demons have dangerosity.

Mrs. H in 1941 says "for God's sake" twice in quick succession.

Schtum

Every day

Hints:

Powell and Pressburg films

The Crow Road

Catch 22

The Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents, Terry Pratchett in general

Jane Austin

Book Good Omens

Season 1 Good Omens

The titles of episodes, minisodes, places, etc. 7a. The Arrival: a book and a movie, though the book seems far more relevant. And lovely. The Clue: a movie. Companion to Owls: a line from a Bible story. I Know Where I'm Going: a movie. The Resurrectionists: two novels, each called The Resurrectionist, singular. Both look unhinged. The Hitchhiker: a Twilight Zone episode. Nazi Zombie Flesheaters: Literally no other reference. ?? Nazi Zombies do appear in a LOT of movies, comics, and video games, usually as a dark joke. The Ball: a video game. Irrelevant? It's a puzzle-based game, so maybe not. Every Day: a song AND a movie. Some themes repeat here: Puzzle games, being re-directed from one's path to find true love, death and being brought back to life in a gruesome and unpleasant way.

Objects that get a close-up/centering:

Starmaker's nebula book -- Nebula 231,080

Shax's compact mirror

Maggie's note

Shostakovich record

Tomatoes

The box

The Bentley

Eccles cakes

The bell

Head statue

The book Jim drops

Jukebox

Gabgriel's statue

Laudanum bottle

Phones in Edinburgh episode

"Very closed" sign

Broken whiskey bottles in 1941

Hourglass in Hell

Furfur's camera

Bullet catch in the magic shop

Instruction booklet for bullet catch gets 3 close ups -- because the bullet catch trick is that important, or because it happens 3 times? Both, I think.

Puppets

Dancers' silhouettes

Mr. Fell sign

The actual bullet

Angelic beings book

Photo evidence

Shax's shoes

"Surrender the angle" brick

[tightwadspoonies]

How to Get a Doctor to Listen To You (and maintain the relationship you have with that doctor, cause you're gonna need that later)

First, I'll preface this by saying: The system sucks. There is no perfect way to access medical care, at least not in the USA. You've almost always got to play the system at least a little to get what you need.

Should it be this way? No. But it is. So here's how to play the game in order to get the most out of a visit to the doctor (there are very different steps to getting what you need out of a hospital stay, but that's a different post):

So First, Let's Assume You Have a Primary Care Doctor That isn't an Urgent Care or the Emergency Department (if you don't, look below the cut first for some tips on getting one, then come back up here)

First, make a list of your problems, then go at the pace of one problem per appointment. Yes I know this sucks. But please read on.

Reasoning:

Appointments are set up in 15-minute slots, but docs typically are timed to about 5-8 minutes spent in a room with a patient on average (the rest of the time is prep and charting and referring and checking in with other doctors to get advice). This is imposed by the hospital or clinic they are working for- not something they choose. If a doctor took as much time as they needed with each patient they would probably get fired. That means every minute beyond that 5 minutes is a minute being "taken" from another patient (isn't capitalism wonderful?!). And 5 minutes is about enough time to evaluate 1 single medical problem.

So when you're setting these up understand that it is way easier and faster to make a bunch of appointments all at once than making them one at a time (hence the making a list of your problems). You might be able to get one slot per week (after a new patient appointment, which will probably take a long time to schedule, see below the cut), each scheduled for a different problem. Keep in mind though, if you make multiple appointments, no-shows are not taken-to kindly. Too many and the rest of your appointments will be cancelled. If you know you can't make it, call ahead.

So what if you need seen right now for a specific symptom? Go to an urgent care or the emergency department. They are almost never going to be able to solve the problem, but a toradol shot for a migraine now is better than waiting six weeks for a sumatriptan prescription. Plus, an emergency department visit or two where they did something for you establishes a history in the record of your problem.

Does this suck? Absolutely. Is multiple appointments always practical for work/school/transportation/copay reasons? Nope. But that's the system, and unfortunately, if you go into an appointment with 6 problems, as you have probably experienced, you're either going to be asked to narrow it down to what is the most important to you anyway, or you're going to get exactly zero useful things out of that appointment.

Next, be upfront, and do it LONG before the doctor walks into the room.

When you schedule an appointment, they will ask you why you are coming. If you want to be evaluated for Ehlos Danlos, for example, say exactly that. "I want to be evaluated for ___________".

Reasoning:

No one can hold everything in their heads for their entire careers, and doctors use that little blurb of why you are coming to look stuff up before you get there.

If you spring something on them that isn't something they see every day, they will be falling back on a very small amount of information they got a long time ago. If you don't fit that tiny piece of information they have saved on that specific disease, you're probably not going to get a diagnosis.

In contrast, if they come in knowing what they will need to evaluate, they will be able to look up or ask how to do the evaluation beforehand and the evaluation for things like the thing you want evaluated. You're much more likely to get a diagnosis if they're doing the right test and asking the right questions.

Also, say you are looking for a diagnosis if that's what you want, and say why. Say something like "If I come up positive for MCAS, could you tell me? I want to try some treatments and accommodations for it that I can only get through a diagnosis."

Reasoning:

I spent 6 years in therapy before my counselor admitted to me that she thought I had had depression the entire time. Why? Because before Obamacare, having a diagnosis of anything more than the flu one time could leave you un-health-insurable for life. Plus even just a generation ago being sick in any way was something socially unacceptable.

It's still like that, but it's changing.

There's still fear about this in the medical world. Putting a diagnosis on paper that the doctor technically didn't have to used to run some pretty serious risks. Pre- HIPAA (1996) those risks extended to your job and social life too (patient privacy was actually not actually a law back then). Even today, certain health conditions (including things like gender dysphoria or schizophrenia) may be looked at unfavorably in some areas if you're trying to do something like adopt.

So be open about the fact that you want to know, and if necessary, why that information is important to you.

Finally, come up "normal" on screening questions. At the beginning of the appointment, the person who rooms you will ask you a set list of questions. These are called "screening questions" and they include things like "do you feel safe at home?" and "does transportation keep you from getting to appointments or getting medications?"

Reasoning:

Unfortunately, if they find anything they need to talk about when asking these questions, they generally have to address these problems at the appointment, which means time they cannot spend on the problem you're there for.

If youdon't feel like lying and think you might have come up "positive" (something needs to be talked about), you have to be extremely clear that you would prefer to make another appointment to discuss the screening test, and today stay focused on the problem you came in for. It depends on the doctor as to whether they are willing to take that risk (and it genuinely is a risk, to them), and you also end up eating up some time.

My wife's opinion is that you know yourself better than a screening test anyway, and sometimes you do have to lie to get what you need.

So, you know, you do what's best for you.

Keep Reading:

Choosing a Doctor:

When you are first starting out looking for a doctor, you will probably have the choice between family practice (either a family practice doctor or family practice nurse practitioner) or internal medicine (your standard adult primary practitioner). Having worked in family practice I may be biased, but personally of the two, if you're looking for someone who is most likely to listen off the bat, it's going to be someone in family practice.

You may also have the option between a private practice and a residency. Of the two, I would choose the residency, because at a residency the docs you see are going to be residents who, 1- just finished up learning about all the zebras and can still remember them, and 2- are not yet jaded. Which if you think you have anything that isn't the most straightforward case of diabetes/heart disease/COPD, that's what you need.

The First Appointment:

So here's the thing. In order to get in with a doctor, you have to do something called a "New Patient Appointment", or NPA. An NPA takes a long time to get (sometimes months) but it is worth it to get a primary care doctor. An NPA is a little longer (usually about an hour or two) and most of that is going to be screenings with a nurse or medical assistant.

Understand that very little will happen at this appointment. It is just for you and the doctor to get to know each other (through a pre-programmed set of questions) and get some background info on you. Sometimes there will be time to address one thing. Use the checkout from this appointment to make more appointments that will fix things.

[calliecwrites]

Shifter HRT, part 1 – Egg, Cracked

So you want to be a shifter? You’ve read about humanity replacement therapy, or species HRT, but can’t find anything about the shifter version? You’re scared, you’re worried this isn’t the path for you, but part of you wants it more than anything?

You’re not alone. I’ve been there. I’m still there. And I’ve taken the first steps. Tomorrow I have my first appointment, though not with a doctor, and if all goes well, by this time tomorrow, I’ll have taken my first dose.

I’m writing this so you’ll have it easier than I did. Also, I want there to be a record, in case something happens to me. I’m not exactly doing this the traditional way.

* * *

I’ve known what I wanted to be since I knew shifters existed. Everything I heard about them – being fluid, shapeshifting – felt right. I started imagining myself as one. If you’re reading this, you probably know how that feels.

I hid it. Even as a kid, I knew people wouldn’t react well to what went on in my head. You’re not supposed to relate to monsters.

Then things got complicated when I realised I was trans. I told myself that wanting to be a shifter was all about wanting to fix my body, since being able to shapeshift would make that easy. I certainly did want that – but I’d imagined myself as a shifter since long before then. I’d imagined being able to change myself in many other ways, before transition became the most important thing. And after transition, so much was better, but that longing didn’t go away.

This isn’t a contradiction. Fixing one thing, even the most urgent thing, like I did, doesn’t automatically fix everything. But I was in denial. I’d transitioned (once); everything was supposed to be fine, now. I told myself the rest was a fantasy.

Then I heard about species HRT. I read about someone becoming a slime – and that did something to me. Slimes are fluid, and so are shifters. Shifters are slime-adjacent, for sure. Maybe this wasn’t just a fantasy. Maybe it could be real.

I’m not in denial anymore. Egg cracked. Time to transition again.

* * *

Were there signs? Oh yes, there were signs.

Nimona. Mystique. Slime girls. The Changelings. And when a character says no solid could ever understand, feeling it like a punch to the gut. Wanting to understand.

Wanting to fly, wanting to swim. Wondering what it’s like to be huge, or tiny, or a tree, or a rock. Wanting to be everything. Fluidity. Freedom. Flowing and pooling, wanting to be a blob of goo with no form at all.

Learning to phantom-sense extra limbs. Being a shifter in daydreams. Learning to lucid dream so I could learn to shapeshift in there. Still being sad because it could only ever be an approximation.

Sitting by the lake, longing to merge with the water and lose myself for a while. Wishing it wasn’t water, but other shifters, welcoming.

Sometimes want isn’t the word at all, but need.

And there are people who can actually do these things, and I can’t? How is that fair? What sort of world has shifters in it and I’m not one?

Sound familiar?

I read everything I can find about them. Not stories written by humans – those aren’t accurate. Most are just sex, or all about fear and hunger and absorption. Shifters don’t absorb people! – it’s their biggest taboo. I read stories shifters write for themselves – and I can’t get enough. Just don’t look in the comments: you’ve got humans calling them monsters, telling them what they should go do to themselves – and a few brave shifters saying how much the stories mean to them. Sometimes the stories disappear, but they always come back.

‘Fluid as the ocean, wild as the wind, and cannot be contained.’ That’s a thing they say about themselves. That should be me.

I don’t comment, don’t interact – hiding, remember? But the stories mean so much to me, too. They’re a window onto how my life could be. I tried to tell myself this was just a sex thing for a while – more denial. There are plenty other stories I could read, if that was all I wanted. But that isn’t what I imagine when I imagine shifters, or even shifter sex. I imagine being one.

Haters would call me a traitor to my own species. They’d call me sick, mentally ill, monsterfucker, monster. Like I haven’t heard all that before for being trans. I want to tell them I’m nothing like them, that they can keep their precious humanity if this is what it looks like – but I don’t dare. I’m too afraid: what if they’re right? I know what I want to be, I know what I should be, but I look at my body and think: this is what I am, fixed, solid, human. I can’t do anything about it, no matter what I am on the inside, no matter how much I hate it. And this is familiar, too – I felt the same way before my first transition. Trapped as something I hated being. Powerless.

* * *

Except, now, there is something I can do about it.

No doctors prescribe shifter HRT – unlike for other species. The only source is the few shifters who figured out how to make it. They keep it tightly controlled, so they can control who gets it. They want to make sure we meet their standards – that we’re shifter enough. I don’t like that. But other people, who want to make it freely available, haven’t figured out how to make it yet.

I’m not waiting for them, not now that I’ve decided. I couldn’t. I could die – accidents happen, after all. How would I feel, knowing I was dying human, still wondering what it would have been like? Never really having been me? No. I’m not waiting.

So I got in touch, and I spoke to one of them online. She arranged the appointment, and now she’s flying in – and I’m pretty sure that means as a bird, not on a plane. All I have to do is convince her. Tomorrow determines everything. If it goes well, I’ll be starting right away.

I still can’t quite believe it. It feels too good to be true. But it is. It really is. It was the same before – I couldn’t believe anything would change till I took my first dose of estrogen. Sometimes reason isn’t enough, planning isn’t enough, sometimes it takes direct contradiction to break the hold a belief like that can have on me. I’ll never take hormones, meet I am now taking hormones. Suddenly I see I was wrong, and there is hope again.

And tomorrow it’s going to happen again. Hopefully. Finally.

And then I really won’t be human.

Next

I'm doing one of these now too! Inspired by the many other animal HRT stories, especially the two slime HRT series by @sandyca5tle and @scrubbinn. In the beginning it's drawing a lot on my own transition, but will be going very different places.

If you want to read more without waiting for the rest of the series, take a look at my other stories – shifters turn up in lots of them.

Oh and that list of signs? They're all real :)

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sandyca5tle @scrubbinn