#like. tell me WHY you think will's dad was/is abusive toward him. tell me about how you imagine will's childhood

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Home to Thrive In

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!neighbor!reader

Summary: You still live next door to Tim Bradford's mother, and when he visits for the first time in years, you have to decide if you're willing to let go of the idea of him you fell in love with.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for 4x09 "Breakdown", angst, arguments, discussion of past abuse, r is Tim's childhood friend, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

A/N: It's late. This may be terrible. I will reassess tomorrow.

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“Have you talked to Mom recently?” Genny asks. When Tim doesn’t answer, she sighs and murmurs, “Don’t know why I thought you would.”

“Isn’t it bad enough that you’re dragging me back into the Tom Bradford-centric world I’ve been trying to outrun since we were kids? Now you want me to tell Mom about everything that’s happened,” Tim argues. “I’m already working on a murder case that Dad hid for decades. I don’t need more family drama right now, Genny."

“She worries about you, Tim. Just wants to be part of your life again.”

Tim's phone rings, a saving grace, and he excuses himself as he pushes his chair away from the table and leaves his sister.

“Tim,” Lucy greets. “I brought Monica Ochoa back in.”

“The woman who was killed by the gun I found in my dad’s house. Why?”

“Because I knew there was more to her story. You- you couldn’t see past the version that you wanted to see.”

“What’d she say?”

“Your dad… Tim, Monica confessed.”

Tim hangs up on Lucy, walks directly past his sister while ignoring her questions, and gets in his truck to visit his dad. To see if he’ll tell the truth when he has no other choice or if he’s really the terrible man Tim thinks he is.

“You didn’t kill Frank,” Tim states.

Tom sighs before he counters, “Sure I did. Now, come on. Cuff me. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Monica confessed.”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Frank was beating her. She fought back. She shot him. She was terrified, so she ran to you. You came up with the burglary story, helped her stage the house, then you hid the gun in case the cops got too close, and you needed to frame someone else.”

“He was brutal, abusive,” Tom explains. “She deserves a medal for what she did.”

“He was abusive?” Tim repeats.

“What? You think I’m like him? I was nothing like Frank. I taught you what you needed to know, son. You’re a man now because of me.”

“No. I’m who I am in spite of you,” Tim replies. His dad doesn’t speak, and Tim nods as he adds, “Goodbye, Dad. I hope it hurts.”

In the hallway outside his dad’s room, Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and calls Grey.

“Bradford,” Wade greets as the call connects.

“I need to take some personal time,” Tim says instead of a salutation.

“Lord knows you’ve stashed up enough of it. Where are you going?”

“To see someone I should’ve visited a long time ago.”

“You did the right thing, Tim. Take your time and know we’re here for you when you get back.”

Tim ends the call, then texts his sister that he’s taking her advice. He hasn’t been home to his mom’s house in years, and he needs her, needs space from his family and his station, and needs to work through the events of the week on his own. Though he isn’t sure if he’s welcome or if his mother's new home will feel the same as it did fifteen years ago, Tim gets in his truck and drives toward the last place he felt at home.

Your evening walk is refreshing, and the sunset helps you focus on the beauty of the day as you wind down.

“Sweetheart!” your neighbor calls, waving from her porch.

“Mrs. Bradford,” you greet with a smile as you step onto her walkway. “How are you today?”

“Good, good. Talked to Genny earlier, she’s visiting Tim.”

You smile and nod, unwilling to touch the sensitive subject of Tim. Growing up with him, you saw the worst parts of his childhood, home life, and father, but that never added up to you. He ran away from his mother, from love and home just to outrun bad memories. A task you know to be impossible.

“How was your book?” you ask, moving away from Mrs. Bradford’s stressful family life. “Did you finish it last night?”

“I did. You were right, the twist at the end was a shock. I thought the vigilante did it!”

“Interesting,” you muse. “I was torn between him and the builder.”

Mrs. Bradford hums before her oven beeps.

“You take care of that,” you say as you wrap your arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. “We’ll talk about the book and start the sequel on Saturday?”

“Count on it. Have a good night!”

“You too!”

Headlights reflect off your front door as you push it open, but you don’t bother to turn around and see who it is. Two of your neighbors get home around this time, and there aren’t many visitors or tourists in your area. So, when you’re closing the curtains and notice an unfamiliar truck in Mrs. Bradford’s driveway, you decide to watch and ensure everything is okay.

“Tim!” Mrs. Bradford calls excitedly as the driver’s door opens. She rushes out and pulls him into a hug, and from the way he grips her and buries his face against her shoulder like he’s eight again, you know that this isn’t just a sorry I stopped calling, Mom visit. Something happened and that’s the only reason he’s home.

“Welcome home, Tim,” you whisper before you pull the curtains together and put the distance you’re used to back between you and Tim.

You kneel by your front door to tie your shoes. Then you untie them and loop the laces differently. Knowing that Tim Bradford is next door makes you hesitate to go outside. Yet, you don’t want to let him impact your life more than he already has. It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that his mother already told him about your downward spiral, how you fell apart when he left without so much as a word. As a kid, you fell in love with Tim Bradford, and you stayed in love with the idea of him in high school. Then, when he disappeared without a word or trace, and you only found out that he was a cop for the LAPD through his sister, you decided that the idea of him was as good as you would ever get.

“You can do this,” you tell yourself as you stand and lay your hand on the doorknob. “It’s just the man who has occupied your every thought for years. Just walk by.”

The magnitude of your mistake hits you in full force when you’re nearly past Mrs. Bradford’s fence. Tim says your name and your heart clenches at the realization that you remembered his voice so well. Years of hearing it in your dreams will preserve your memory like that.

“Tim,” you reply, swallowing as you face him. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“It wasn’t exactly the plan. Genny showed up and everything just kind of blew up in my face.”

Kind of like what you put me through, you think. Rather than saying it, you nod sympathetically.

“Did my mom… did she tell you about my dad?”

“Tim, your mom tells me a lot. But no one close to your mom has brought him up in years.”

“Wish my sister had gotten that message,” Tim scoffs.

“I hope you enjoy the time with your mom,” you interrupt. “But I’ve got to get going.”

“Right,” Tim agrees. “I’ll see you around.”

You nod but feel your chest tighten as you hope he’s wrong. Losing Tim Bradford again is not an option, so you refuse to let him closer than he needs to be.

“I didn’t know she moved with you, still lived next door,” Tim muses as his mother ushers him inside for breakfast.

“You don’t know much,” she points out, not unkindly but not untrue. “She knows more than you. I’ve told her everything Genny passed along. You were so close as kids.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees before he trails off. He remembers being friends, but not the kind of friends that would ask about each other. “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

“Well, you can hardly blame her.”

“What does that mean?”

Tim’s mother looks at him and presses her lips together. He has her eyes, but he doesn’t have her understanding or the intuition about people she tried to instill in him when his father wasn’t trying to teach him to be a man.

“If you can’t see it, Tim, it’s too late to explain it. She’s coming over for lunch and our duet book club tomorrow. You have thirty hours to read the book if you want to participate.”

“Thank you for letting me come home, Mom.”

She lays her hand on Tim’s shoulder and promises, “You’re always welcome here, Timothy.”

You knock on Mrs. Bradford’s door while Tim’s truck is gone. With one of her signature ceramic loaf pans in your hands, filled with your favorite cookies, you wait for the door to open to return her dish and offer some goodies.

“Sorry to…” you begin as the door opens. “Oh, Tim. Sorry, your truck was gone so I assumed your mom would be here.”

“She borrowed my truck to do something that she refused to have help for. Come on in.”

Tim opens the door for you, and for reasons beyond your comprehension, you accept his invitation and walk inside. After you set the pan on the counter, you turn around to leave, but Tim is leaning against the table and watching you.

“Enjoying your time off?” you question, wringing your fingers together behind your back.

“I am. Especially after the last case I worked on,” Tim answers. “My mom hasn’t told me much about you.”

You hum and look at your feet as you reply, “Not much to tell.”

“She seems to tell you a lot.”

“Look, Tim, I’m just trying to respect your boundaries. She told me that your dad was involved in something, a murder, but it’s not my business.”

“Frank Ochoa,” Tim interjects.

You furrow your brows as you ask, “Monica’s husband? But that was a robbery.”

Tim tilts his head to the side as he says, “My dad admitted to killing him. He was protecting Monica.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“What?”

Tim stands from the table, his crossed arms falling to his sides. “You knew something and didn’t tell anybody, didn’t you?”

“Tim, I-“

“Look, I’ve been lied to by too many people this week. You still have the same tell you did in elementary school. What did you know?”

You clench your jaw and step to the right to go around Tim, but he moves to block you, and rather than running into his chest, you retreat further into Mrs. Bradford’s kitchen.

“This case – the people there – have been lied to, we’ve been wrong, there’s been no justice for decades. And you’ve known something the whole time? How can you live with that?”

“How can I live with it?” you repeat incredulously. “How was I – a child, Tim – supposed to go to the police and tell them that I saw Frank beating Monica over and over? They wouldn’t have believed me!”

“You didn’t try!”

“Yes, I did!” you yell. Wiping the single tear that managed to escape in your memories of the only time you tried to help your neighbors, you lose some of your fight.

“Doesn’t seem like you tried very hard,” Tim adds under his breath.

You laugh once and shake your head. “I told the police your dad was beating you, Tim. You know what happened? They came and asked him about it. He denied everything. After they left, he took you out into the backyard and demanded to know who you told. So, see if you can wrap your cop brain about why I was scared to tell on someone else.”

“I didn’t know you-“

“You didn’t know anything, Tim.”

Tim scoffs and argues, “Oh and you know so much about who I am now because of what my sister tells my mom?”

“At least I talk to your mom, Tim,” you snap. Immediately, you regret it. “I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I couldn’t,” Tim defends.

“Did you try?”

Tim’s truck rumbles as his mother returns from the store, and you hold Tim’s stare until the engine shuts off.

“Can I leave now, or do you want to blame me for something else?”

Tim steps back and opens his mouth, but you storm past him before he can say anything else. You return to your house after you hug Mrs. Bradford and tell her about the cookies. The idea of Tim Bradford that you’ve clung to since childhood is growing fuzzy around the edges, and alone in your house, you cry over what he told you today, the mistakes you made, and the loss of the Tim you were born to love.

Someone knocks on your door the following morning, and you stare at it rather than walking toward it.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” Mrs. Bradford calls.

With a sigh, you stand and invite her in, not caring if she notices your teary eyes or unusual attitude.

“I thought you might want someone to talk to. Somewhere away from my son,” she explains as she leads you to your dining table. “So, I brought food and company. Choose what you want.”

“It’s not just Tim,” you explain. “I mean… he was right, but it’s different.”

“Different than when you fell in love with him?” she guesses.

You look up at her, wide-eyed at her question. She smiles and gestures for you to continue.

“I’ve been dreaming about him coming back, thinking that we could pick up where we left off, but he’s nothing like what I remember.”

“Time will do that,” she soothes, taking your hand over the table.

“It didn’t do it to me.”

“Sweetheart… you didn’t let it. I love you, you know that, but you cling so tightly to the past, to the familiar, that you haven’t allowed yourself to adapt to the beauty of the growth and changes around you. Haven’t even let yourself show the woman you’ve become.”

You lick your lips before sniffling and asking, “What if I don’t like it?”

“But what if you thrive in it?”

Wiping the back of your free hand across your face, you clear your tears and nod. You know that Mrs. Bradford is right, but you also know that there will be pain in the beauty when you choose to move forward.

“Does he hate me?” you whisper.

“Timothy? I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

“He can sure blame me for a lot, though,” you point out with a wet laugh.

“Beating himself up over that at the moment, if you’re wondering. And, when you’re ready to talk to him, maybe you should try getting to know who he is today.”

You nod and pull a homemade candy from her special-made meal. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, are we going to keep crying over silly boys or try to solve a murder mystery on a pioneer plantation?”

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you shift from foot to foot on Mrs. Bradford’s porch as you try to get your courage up. Just as you lift your hand to knock, a throat clears behind you. You spin around quickly, then release a breath and press your hand over your racing heart.

“You could have told me you were back there sooner,” you point out softly.

“I wanted to see where this was going,” Tim answers, closing his tailgate. “Listen, about the other day-“

You raise your hand to silence Tim and shake your hand. “I came over here to talk to you. About more than that. Do you maybe want to go somewhere to do that?”

Tim nods and opens the passenger door of his truck, offering his hand as he helps you in without a word. The drive to the local high school football field is quick but silent, and when you exit the truck and join Tim on the tailgate to watch the sunset, you take a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that with your dad, the house, Frank, all that,” you begin. “But I’m sorrier that I didn’t do more back then.”

Tim nods and says, “You were right. They wouldn’t have listened, or it would’ve spooked my dad and made everything worse.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” You look at Tim’s profile and ask, “Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits without hesitation. “My dad was protecting Monica. He never did anything to protect us, but his mistress – broke half a dozen laws for her.”

“I knew that, too,” you whisper. “My mom made me stop sitting by the door after that year, which was probably a good thing. Uhm, are they going to prosecute your dad?”

“No. Not on his death bad. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll get judged soon enough.”

You nod, your eyes still on Tim rather than the pink sunset before you. His eyes have teared up, and everything inside of you begs for you to just let go.

“Tim, you’re nothing like him. You know that, right?”

Tim nods a tiny movement that breaks your heart. This isn’t the Tim you remember, not the Tim from elementary school or the one who was punished for your ill-conceived attempt to help. Most importantly, you realize, this isn’t the Tim you’ve dreamed of loving. Tim Bradford, the man before you, is who you can love, want to love, and desperately, wholly, devastatingly need to love.

With a deep breath, you release everything you’ve been holding onto. Your grip on your dreams, on your memory of Tim and what you thought you wanted, and the moment that trapped you in your position of being terrified to do the wrong thing in your efforts to do good weakens, and you feel like a flower in bloom. Everything seems new, the possibilities are endless, and you’re a new person who isn’t afraid to do right, even when it terrifies you and carries the potential to break your heart.

“Tim,” you whisper.

He turns toward you, drawn by the tone in your voice, and blinks past his tears. You shift on his tailgate and raise your arms toward his shoulders. Tim leans forward and meets you halfway, pulling you into his lap as you collapse into a hug that heals the broken edges of who you are. With Tim’s arms against your back and waist, you feel more at home than ever, and he feels the same. His mother’s house was never the home he was returning to, but a pursuit for this feeling, right in your arms.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur against his shoulder.

He shakes his head, tightening his grip on you, and this version of you - unafraid, complete in Tim Bradford’s arms - is ready to thrive. You won’t heal overnight; neither of you will, but it’s a start.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Tim laughs against your neck before he pulls back gently to retrieve his phone from his pocket.

“My mom,” he tells you. “If you haven’t kissed her yet, what are you waiting for? Another set of wrinkles?”

You fail to stop the laugh that escapes at Mrs. Bradford’s bluntness. Then, you realize how glad you are that he’s reading her text messages.

“Well?” you ask. “Should we kiss or wait for more wrinkles?”

Tim pushes a stray hair out of your face and promises, “None of it was your fault.”

You nod and thank him, then brush your thumbs against his cheeks. “Last time we were on a field together, it was raining. I also wanted you to kiss me then.”

“You never told me.”

“How was I supposed to tell you that, Tim?” you ask. “I… I was caught up in an idea of who we could be, and I was scared to ruin it by doing something new.”

“And now?”

Rather than asking for what you want, you take it as you lean forward and kiss Tim. One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, and the first raindrop feels suspiciously like a teardrop as it runs down your face and onto Tim’s. You laugh as you run toward the truck doors, thunder rumbling as a storm approaches from the west. In the truck with Tim, you find yourself face-to-face with a better version of the dream life you craved in Tim’s absence.

Bonus:

“Get inside, it’s going to start raining again!” Mrs. Bradford calls from the kitchen when she hears the door open. “Don’t need you catching a cold on your time off, Timothy.”

You press your lips together and smile at Tim, who is drenched after offering you his jacket to hold over your head in a poor attempt to stay somewhat dry.

“She’s going to mother you, too,” he points out.

“Hey, I’m used to it,” you reply. “Like it, even.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bradford murmurs as she appears in the doorway. “Go get dried off and change, Tim.”

After he disappears into his room, Mrs. Bradford offers you a towel and a change of clothes. She smiles as she leans in and says, “Flowers that thrive need plenty of rain to grow, you know.”

[daisies-on-a-cup]

actually you know what if you make will's dad an abusive parent i cant say i trust you much

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: my tears ricochet | part i

pairing: husband's best friend!joel miller x female reader

rating: chapter - t; full work - explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 7k

summary: after moving from new york to texas with your fiance, you expect to jump right into wedding planning with his help. when he claims to be too busy, he suggests asking his best friend, joel miller, to help you instead.

you weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

author's note: this story is a three part fic inspired by the song "my tears ricochet" by taylor swift. this first part is reader's POV, part two will be joel's POV, and the third part will be dual POV. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

chapter tags: modern au, infidelity, emotional abuse, the fiance is shitty, no use of y/n, single POV (reader), wedding dress shopping and other wedding planning activities, angst, arguing, alcohol consumption/mention, kissing, no smut. please let me know if i've missed any!

major work tags: modern au, infidelity, explicit sexual content, character death

You stare out at the manicured yard, watching as guests move about the grounds and waiters in black uniforms carry trays of food and drinks through the crowd. Your boyfriend -- wait, no, fiancé -- Alex laughs boisterously with your father, a hand on his back in easy familiarity. You know you should be down there with him given that this is your engagement party, but you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the constant smiling and greeting strangers and showing off your shiny new engagement ring that you needed a break.

The door opens and a man you don't recognize steps into the room, pale blue dress shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and a pair of wrinkled dress pants. He runs a hand through his messy dark curls.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would be in here," he says. As he looks you over, his brown eyes go wide with surprise. "Shit, you're the bride!"

You smile at him. "That's me," you reply. You hold a hand out towards him as you give him your name, his rough palm sliding against yours as he grips it firmly.

"I'm Joel Miller," he tells you. You know the name well, being that he's your fiancé's best friend. "Didn't mean to make our first time meetin' so awkward."

"No, no, it's not your fault. I've just been feeling a little overwhelmed with all the," you wave your hand towards the window, "festivities. It's great to finally meet you."

"I don't blame ya. They can get pretty stuffy down there. Congrats, by the way."

"Thank you." He lets go of your hand. "So, why are you hiding?"

He laughs, deep and full bellied. "Alex's mom doesn't like me much. I'm sure she was hopin' that we would stop bein' friends when he went to school on the other side of the country, but I’m like a stubborn tick."

"How could she not like you, Alex told me that the two of you have been best friends since kindergarten!"

"There may have been a few mishaps in high school," he says. "You ever tried eggin' your principal's house?"

"Can't say that I have," you reply.

"Well, it doesn't end well if you get caught." He looks out the window with a smile on his face. "We got arrested. Alex's dad had to bail us out. Probably had to throw some hush money around so that it wouldn't show up on his record when he applied to school."

"He's never told me that!" You say, laughing hard enough around the words that your stomach hurts.

The door opens and this time, Alex himself steps into the room. His serious expression morphs into a smile when he sees you and Joel.

"There you are," he says, crossing the room to kiss your cheek. He greets Joel with a hug, patting his back roughly. "What are you two doing in here?"

"I just needed a minute alone," you tell him.

"And I crashed her minute alone. Told her about the time we got arrested in high school," Joel adds. Alex's jaw tenses, his smile tight as his eyes flick to you, like he's worried about your reaction. "She laughed. It's all good."

"Right. Well, I came to find you because its time for the toast and dinner," Alex says. "Let's get back down to our guests."

A hand at the small of your back urges you towards the door before you can reply.

"Alex, are you listening to me?" You ask. Your fiancé looks up from his phone.

"I'm sorry, baby, I was finishing an e-mail," he says. He sets his phone down on the table, dark screen facing up, and gives you his full attention. "What were you saying?"

"I wanted to schedule the cake tasting. Do you have any free time this week?"

He grimaces. "I don't think I do, sweetheart. Your dad's got my schedule pretty packed."

"I can just ask him to--"

"No," he says sternly. "You know I have to make a good impression with the rest of the firm."

"But--"

"Babe, no. I can't do this week. Why don't you ask my mom? Or Joel?"

While your future mother-in-law is kind enough, you don't have much patience for the way she tries to take control of your wedding planning. Joel, however, might be a good idea. He knows Alex well enough to be a stand in for a decision like cake and icing flavors.

"Could you give me Joel's number?"

Alex smiles, seemingly pleased that he's off the hook as he takes his phone in hand and sends you his best friend's phone number.

You meet Joel at the bakery that week. To your surprise he's there before you, dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt and he smiles brightly at you as you approach.

"Hey," he says. "Ready to eat some cake?"

"I think this will be my favorite part of planning this whole wedding," you reply. He laughs as he pulls the door open for you to step inside, following in behind you.

"Welcome to Buttercup Bakery! Can I help y'all with anything?" A young woman with a name tag reading BEVERLY asks from behind the counter, pink and white apron tied around her waist.

"I have a cake tasting appointment," you reply, giving her your name for the reservation.

"Excellent! If you want to go ahead and take a seat anywhere you'd like, I'll bring out the tasting options and we'll get you squared away in no time!"

She disappears through swinging doors as you and Joel take a seat at a pink acrylic table with matching chairs. He looks around the shop with interest.

"What made you pick this place?" He asks.

"Had the best reviews," you say with a shrug. His brow furrows.

"Alex didn't suggest it? He helpin' you at all with this weddin'?"

He says it with a laugh, but the question makes you dig your fingernails into your palm. "He's just really busy with work. I've been doing a lot of the planning."

“What about your uh, what are they called? Bridesmaids?”

“They’re all back in New York. It’s just me.”

“I thought your parents were here, too? Isn’t Alex workin’ with your dad now?”

“It’s just my dad, he’s back in New York. His partner opened a firm in Austin and Alex is working with that office. He’s hoping to make partner soon, too.”

Joel nods, eyes scanning your face but you keep your expression as neutral as possible. The swinging doors open and Beverly returns with a marble tray, bites of cake artfully arranged on the surface. She sets it on the table between you and Joel.

“Okay! These are our six most popular flavor combinations for you to start with and if there’s something more custom you have in mind, we can totally make that happen,” she says. “Starting at the top, we have classic vanilla with vanilla buttercream, chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and chocolate buttercream, our signature champagne cake with strawberry buttercream, lemon cake with lavender buttercream, caramel cake with caramel mocha buttercream, and white chocolate cake with raspberry jam and white chocolate raspberry buttercream.”

Joel grins at you. “This might be the best thing anyone has ever asked me to help with.”

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Beverly says with a wink, walking back to the counter.

“I don’t know which to start with,” you say, eyes scanning the selections.

“That chocolate one is callin’ my name,” Joel replies, spearing one of the chocolate cake bites with a fork and taking a bite. He hums appreciatively. “Oh yeah, that one is a winner.”

You choose the vanilla to start, taking a bite of the moist cake with buttercream that tastes strongly of vanilla bean with a hint of cinnamon. The simplicity makes it good, but overall the flavor doesn't stand out to you. Joel continues to take bites seemingly at random while you opt to go around the tray in the order that Beverly introduced the flavors.

"Any of them stickin' out to you?" Joel asks when you've reached the half-way point.

"They're all delicious," you reply. "I think Alex would probably like the vanilla best, though."

"I didn't ask what Alex would like, I asked if there were any that you liked." He spears the remaining piece of white chocolate raspberry with his fork and holds it up to you. "Here, try this one next."

You eye the fork dubiously. "I don't think--"

Joel slips the bite of cake into your mouth despite your interrupted disagreement, smiling at you triumphantly. You chew the bite begrudgingly.

"I think that one and the chocolate one are my favorite," Joel says as you swallow.

Beverly returns at that moment, a notepad in hand as she pulls up a third chair to the tiny bistro table.

“So? What are your thoughts?”

“I think I’m going to get the vanilla,” you tell her. Joel’s jaw ticks, almost like he’s upset you’ve chosen the flavor that you said Alex would like. “But, could I get alternating tiers of the white chocolate raspberry, too?”

Joel’s lips quirk up in a small smile and you try to ignore the way it makes your stomach flip.

Joel: Have you picked flowers yet?

Not yet.

Joel: I know a place. You busy today?

You stare the at the message in surprise. You weren’t expecting to hear from Joel again, but his name on your screen has you fighting back a smile.

I’m not busy. When did you want to go?

Joel: They open at noon. Here’s the address.

“Baby, have you seen my blue tie?” Alex calls from upstairs. You drop your phone to the counter like you’ve been caught doing something wrong.

“Which one?” You reply, pressing a hand to your chest.

“The plaid one!”

“Should be in your tie drawer!”

“It’s not here!”

You pinch your nose, making your way to the stairs to join him in your shared bedroom. He’s standing in front of his tie drawer, hands on his hips as he stares at the contents. You peek over his shoulder and reach into the back, pulling out the neatly folded blue and green patterned tie.

He takes it from your hand. “That one should be towards the front. Can you remember that next time you put away dry cleaning?”

“Sure.” You bite your lip to hold back the sigh that threatens to spill. “You want me to tie it for you?”

“No, thanks, I need it to be perfect. Big meeting,” he says, his lips tilted in a smile that feels condescending. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” you murmur, watching his back as he enters the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

Joel is waiting outside of a dark green storefront when you arrive at the address he’d sent you. He smiles when he sees you, a true one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, and it gives you this strange feeling of emptiness because you can’t remember the last time Alex smiled at you like that.

When you’re close enough, he pulls you into a hug that envelops you in strong arms and the scent of woods at nightfall with a hint of citrus. Your eyes flutter shut as you hug him back and breathe him in.

He releases you and immediately you feel a chill in losing his warmth despite the oppressive Texas heat. You look at the shop as he steps back, taking in the gorgeous floral arrangements in the window and cursive script painted on the glass that says PETAL TO THE METAL.

Joel opens the door to the shop, a brass bell ringing to announce your entrance. A man at the counter in the center of the store looks up and grins at you both.

“Joel! Nice to see you,” the man says. You watch as they shake hands with familiarity, the man behind the counter smiling kindly. “You must be the bride. I’m Frank.”

You give Joel a look of surprise before introducing yourself and shaking Frank’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you two know each other?”

“Joel’s an old friend of ours.”

“Ours?”

A back door bangs open, someone emerging with their arms so full of potted plants you can’t see their face. A deep voice let’s out a series of curses.

“This is my partner, Bill,” Frank says. “He’s not much of a people person. Great with plants, though.”

“A little help would be nice,” Bill grunts. Frank rolls his eyes but leaves the counter to take a couple pots from Bill’s hands, revealing a man with long brown hair and a grizzled expression hidden amongst a thick beard. Frank leans in and kisses his cheek.

“You need only ask,” Frank says. Bill’s cheeks turn pink beneath his thick facial hair. Despite the annoyed expression on his face, his eyes are soft as he watches Frank. “Let me grab you the event portfolio and we can talk about your wedding. Have a look around.”

As Frank leaves and Bill busies himself arranging the new plants, you and Joel wander the shop and take in aisles and shelves of different flowers with little gold name cards in their pots or on their buckets.

“So,” Joel says, “How are you liking Austin?”

“It’s…hot,” you reply. “Really, really hot.”

“That’s the south for ya, sweetheart.”

Your face grows hot at the endearment and how it seemed to just roll off his tongue. “Have you lived in Austin your whole life?”

“Texas born n’ bred,” he says proudly, puffing his chest out.

“You never wanted to live anywhere else?”

“I’ve always thought Wyoming sounded nice. A farm that I built, some sheep, no neighbors for miles,” he says wistfully. “Maybe someday.”

“Building a farm, huh? You good with your hands, Joel?”

He blinks at you. “Y-yeah. I mean, I’m a contractor. I gotta be.”

“That’s impressive,” you tell him, biting your lip to hold back your laughter at his flustered response.

Frank approaches, lifting a heavy book in his hands. “You ready to pick some flowers?”

Joel holds the door open for you as the two of you leave the flower shop an hour later. He waves goodbye to Bill and Frank with a promise to visit them for dinner soon before following you down the sidewalk.

“You wanna get lunch?” Joel offers. “My treat.”

You pull your phone from your pocket to check your messages and finding none from Alex, you think to yourself, why not?

“Sure,” you agree.

That's how you find yourself sitting on a bench in the park with Joel Miller, your husband's best friend, talking to him about everything and nothing as you eat street tacos from a food truck nearby. He makes you laugh so hard you choke on birria, the sauce dripping down your chin. He reaches out, wiping the mess with a brown napkin while he smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame.

Later that night, while you're in bed, you can't help but think today was the best day you've had in a long time.

And you're not sure what that means.

You begin texting Joel regularly. You ask him for his opinion on things that Alex can’t be bothered with — the suit colors for the groomsmen (navy blue), the invitation stationary (the linen finish), and favors (miniature bottles of hot sauce - Joel assures you this will be a hit with the Texas crowd). In between those conversations, he sends you pictures from his construction sites or asks you how your day has been and whether you had gotten the chance to check out that show he recommended.

When you tell Alex about the wedding decisions you've made, leaving out the extent of Joel's help, he hums and nods at the appropriate intervals, feigning attentiveness while his thumb moves rapidly across his phone screen. It should bother you, you think, that your future husband is so uninvolved with planning his own wedding, but then your own phone lights up with Joel’s name and a goofy photo he sent from a construction site, his hard hat askew on his head and his eyes crossed, and your annoyance with Alex fades into background noise.

There’s one last item on your checklist that you’re more nervous to ask Joel for help with than the others — dress shopping. You could probably fly back to New York and be with your friends for the momentous occasion but you’re certain that Alex wouldn’t appreciate your absence for something he considers so frivolous.

Not that you say anything when he’s gone for his golfing trips.

You’re staring at Joel’s contact screen, working up the nerve to call him and ask him if he’d be willing to come dress shopping with you, when it lights up with an incoming call, his name at the top of the screen like just your thoughts summoned him. You answer on the third ring.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you tell him.

“So that’s why my ears were itchin’,” he laughs. “You need somethin’?”

You take a steadying breath. “I just have one more thing I need help with and then you won’t have to deal with me.”

“I don’t mind helpin’ you, sweetheart.” You stomach flutters at the nickname and he clears his throat to fill the loaded silence that follows his words. “Now, tell me what you need.”

“Could you come dress shopping with me?”

“That all? Just tell me where and when,” he says. You breathe a sigh of relief, giving him the details of the appointment you made at a local boutique. He promises to meet you there this weekend before hanging up.

The word sweetheart in Joel’s deep voice echoes through your mind for the rest of the day.

Joel looks hilariously out of place on the pristine white couch located in the middle of the dress boutique, a dainty glass of champagne held in his large hand. You sit beside him, your legs touching as you watch the sales associate flit around the store, pulling hangers of dresses from the racks.

“That’s a lot of dresses,” Joel comments, taking a sip of champagne.

“You not up for the challenge?” You tease. He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his wide smile.

“Trust me, I’m up for the challenge. We’re goin’ to find you the best damn weddin’ dress Texas has ever seen,” he promises.

“Alright, I’ve got some gorgeous choices here for you,” the associate announces, holding up a handful of ivory hangers draped in all types of fabric from satin to chiffon. “You wanna follow me and we’ll get started?”

You follow her to the fitting room and she sets the hangers on a rack, fanning out the dresses so that you can get a better look. There’s five of them in a variety of styles, including an impressive ball gown boasting layers of tulle that trails to the floor.

“I’ll try that one first,” you tell her, pointing to ball gown.

“What’s your fiancé’s name?” She asks as you undress, taking the gown from the hanger and arranging it on the floor for you to step into it.

“Alex,” you reply. She drags the bodice up and instructs you to hold it to your chest while she laces up the corset back.

“I think it’s sweet that you’ve brought him with you.”

“Oh, no. That’s Joel, he’s my husband’s best friend.”

“Really?” She asks, the strings tightening around your waist. “The way you two look at each other, I would have bet money he was the one marrying you." You're about to ask what she means when she finishes tying off the bodice and says, "Wow, this dress is stunning on you."

Her comment retreats to the back of your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror. The strapless white gown hugs your chest and waist, flaring out into a layered skirt with lace appliques. There's beading on the sweetheart neckline that trails down the bodice in intricate patterns that catch the light of the fitting room. The dress is stunning.

Marnie leads you back out to the showroom, helping you step up onto a raised platform in front of a trifold mirror that shows you your reflection from multiple angles. You twist and turn, taking in all the details of it before finally facing Joel.

"Damn," Joel says. "That sure is one hell of a dress."

"It's...a lot." You twist your hips from side to side, the heavy skirt swishing across the floor. "I feel like a cupcake and I don't know if I'll be able to dance in it."

"You wanna test it out?"

He's standing before you can respond, reaching a hand into yours to guide you down from the pedestal. When you're on the floor, he wraps an arm around your low back, pulling you close while swaying side to side.

The world around you goes a little blurry and the only thing in perfect clarity is Joel. The feel of his hand in yours, the weight of his arm at the small of your back, the clean smell of soap and citrus, everything is just....Joel.

"How's it feel?" He asks, voice low. You tilt your head back to look up at his face.

"Huh?"

"The dress...dancin'...how's it feel?"

The question drags you back to reality, where you're currently dancing around a bridal salon with a man who isn't your fiance. You pull away from him, returning to the pedestal as the bridal associate joins the two of you again.

"Uh...I don't think this is the dress for me. Can we try the next one?"

You try on two other dresses in quick succession, neither of them leaving a lasting impression. It's the fourth dress that really gives you pause as you look at yourself in the fitting room mirror.

"Honey," the associate says, adjusting the off-the-shoulder sleeves of the dress, "This dress was made for you."

The scooped neckline highlights the lines and curves of your neck and shoulders, the corset bodice hugging your curves in satin folds. The skirt fans out from the waist, similar to the silhouette of the ball gown without all the additional weight and fabric and a thigh high slit allows for some extra movement.

She leads you back out into the showroom and helps you once more onto the pedestal. You grin at your reflection as she fixes the skirt into place.

"Well?" You ask, catching Joel's eye in the mirror. His mouth is set in a serious line, brows pinched together and his arms crossed over his chest. You own smile falters. "You don't like it? What's with the look?"

He shakes his head, his serious expression morphing into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You look..." His voice trails off and he clears his throat. "Alex is a lucky son of a bitch."

You laugh, lifting the skirt so that you can step off the pedestal. Joel's eyes drop, his gaze fixing on the skirt as you walk towards him.

"You think so?" You ask quietly, stepping in close.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmurs. A single finger runs down your arm, goosebumps erupting over your skin in its wake. "I know so."

With the wedding plans finalized, your attention returns to your work as a web design consultant. Your client portfolio starts to build once more, keeping you busy in the months leading up to your big day. Alex remains focused on his work at the firm, working long days and longer nights that have him arriving home well after you've gone to bed, the two of you just ships passing in the dark. You would feel lonely, you think, if not for Joel.

The two of you still message each other frequently, though you don't see him again until a month before the wedding, when Alex invites him over for dinner one Saturday night.

The doorbell rings just as you put the chicken in the oven and you wipe your hands before going to answer it, your heart racing. Joel's sweet smile greets you when you open the door and seeing him across the threshold has the tension in your shoulders easing the slightest bit.

He steps across the threshold, strong arms wrapping around your waist in a tight hug. Footsteps on the stairs have him releasing you far sooner than you would have liked.

"Joel, my man! Glad you could make it," Alex says as he reaches the first floor. "Honey, is the table set?"

"No, not yet," you reply.

"You need any help?" Joel asks. You open your mouth to respond, but Alex jumps in to say, "No, she's got this. Let me give you the tour."

You watch as Alex leads Joel upstairs, commanding his friend's attention. You swallow down the anger that rises in your throat at your fiancé's dismissal and return to the kitchen, gathering the place settings and arranging the table to his liking.

"It's a nice place," Joel says as the two men enter the living room, which opens to the kitchen and dining areas.

"All that work finally paying off," Alex comments. You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to mention that you were the one who fronted the down payment for Alex's choice of home in Texas. The oven beeps and you pull out the chicken parmesan that had been baking.

"Smells good," Joel comments. You look up, catching his eye. A wordless understanding passes between you, a quiet appreciation that makes your blood run hot.

You plate the food while your fiancé uncorks a bottle of wine and pours it into the wine glasses at each place setting. Alex settles in at head of the table and Joel takes the seat to the left, leaving you with the seat to Alex's right, across from Joel.

The three of you make small talk between bites of dinner and sips of wine. Alex asks Joel about the contracting work he's been doing, Joel asks him about his work at the new office and how he's settling in, being back in his home state. It's halfway through dinner that Joel looks to you and asks, "Are you excited for the wedding next month?"

"Of course," you reply, fingers tangling in the cloth napkin resting across your lap. "Planning it was a labor of love."

"Right, thanks for helping her with the cake, man," Alex chimes in.

Joel chuckles. "Helped with a lot more than just the cake."

"What do you mean?" Alex asks, glancing between the two of you.

"Well, I helped get the flowers, the cake, pickin' out the stationary. Dress shoppin'," Joel clarifies. Your stomach drops as Alex's jaw grows tense, his brow pinched as he nods and pastes on a forced smile.

"Wow, I didn't realize you'd been so involved," Alex says. He removes the napkin from his lap, setting it on the table. "Would you excuse us for a second?"

Alex stands, looking down at you expectantly. You smile at him and Joel in turn, but the expression feels hollow and you taste bile in the back of your throat. As soon as you're on your feet, Alex has a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, urging you along behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs.

Once he's reached your shared bedroom, he turns to you, eyes filled with rage. “What the fuck is that about?”

“What do you mean?” You ask. He laughs, the sound devoid of any humor.

“He helped you pick out your dress?” Alex paces the length of the bedroom like a caged animal and for the first time in your relationship with him, a frisson of fear courses through your veins. “You can’t possibly be that fucking stupid?”

“Excuse me?” You snap. “You told me to ask him for his help!”

“With the cake!” Alex shouts. “Not the entire goddamn wedding! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“You weren’t exactly offering much help, Alex!”

His eyes narrow. “I thought you would be perfectly capable of planning shit on your own, but I guess that was giving you too much credit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. “Why are you being such a fucking asshole right now?”

“Because you’re my fiancé, not Joel’s!” He steps in close, towering above you as he hisses, “Did you fuck him?”

“No!” You shout.

His eyes search yours and whatever he finds seems to extinguish his anger, his coiled muscles loosening. He grips your shoulders, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you head back downstairs and I’ll stay up here for a minute to cool off, okay?”

The sudden switch leaves your head spinning but you manage to nod. Alex kisses your forehead and you take that as your cue to leave, escaping the confines of your room. In the hall, you grip the banister of the loft that overlooks the living room and take the first real breath in what feels like ages, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to calm your racing heart.

You return to the kitchen and Joel’s head snaps up when you enter. He rises from his seat at the table, rushing to your side.

“Are you okay?” He asks, low voice filled with concern, his brows pinched with worry. “What the fuck was that?”

“Just a misunderstanding,” you murmur, pushing past him.

“That’s bullshit,” he hisses. “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” You sigh.

“An asshole. Yellin’ and threatenin’ you.” His fists are clenched at his sides. “He ever hit you?”

“What? No, of course not.” You take a deep breath, beating back the wave of tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. “He’s just got a lot going on with the move and work and the wedding.”

Joel is quiet, watching you with keen brown eyes that you, for once, wish weren’t focused on you. He steps close, voice low as he says, “Be honest with me, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine, Joel,” you tell him. The lie claws at your throat and sends your stomach into a tailspin. “I promise.”

Footsteps echo on the stairs and you step away from Joel, busying yourself with loading the dishwasher, clearing the counters, anything to keep your hands occupied and stop their shaking. Alex enters the kitchen with a sharp smile.

“Hey, man, sorry about that,” he says, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “I think we’re ready to call it a night. Ain’t that right, honey?”

You force yourself to keep your eyes on Alex as you smile and say, “Yeah, baby.”

“Let me walk you out, Joel,” Alex says. “Honey, say bye.”

“Goodbye, Joel.”

Joel: Hey

Joel: You having a good week?

Joel: Been a while. You doing okay?

Joel: You’ve been quiet

Joel: I need to know you’re okay.

Joel: Just let me know

Joel: Please

“Just two more days until you’re my wife,” Alex says, pressing a kiss to your lips. He smiles at you and you mirror the expression as best you can.

“I can't wait,” you reply.

"I gotta get going," Alex says. He presses a kiss to your cheek as he passes where you're sitting at the bar. "Love you."

"Love you," you repeat, out of reflex more than affection.

The front door slams shut and quiet settles over the house. All you want to do is crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head in the hopes that it protects you from the way time continues to creep forward despite your uncertainties. Maybe, if you lay there long enough, time will move on without your involvement.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a heavy knock at the door. You’re not sure who it could be — your dad is scheduled to fly into town in the late afternoon and your friends arrive early tomorrow morning and you’re fairly certain you don’t have any deliveries scheduled. Sliding from the bar stool, you leave the kitchen to answer the door.

Joel stands on the other side of the threshold, haloed by the morning sun. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’re dreaming.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask.

“Can I come in?” He replies, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I need to talk to you.”

You step aside and allow him to enter the hallway, shutting the door behind him. You avoid his gaze as you return to the living room with him following behind you. The silence that settles between the two of you makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Why haven't you been talkin' to me?" Joel asks. He takes a step closer, brown eyes searching yours for an answer you try to keep hidden.

"I've been busy," you say.

"Cut the bullshit," he snaps, surprising you. "Is it because of what happened at dinner?"

"No," you reply. Joel must sense the brief hesitation, hear the weakness in your voice. His eyes go soft, full of pity, and you can't fucking stand it. "Don't look at me like that."

"Look, I've known Alex a long time, and all those years weren't exactly peachy," he says cryptically. "I love him like a brother but even family ain't without faults.” He steps in close, his hands cradling your face in a delicate grip. “Tell me this is what you want," he demands. "Tell me that you're happy with Alex. Tell me that there's nothin' here between us."

The words are there, right on the tip of your tongue, but nothing can bring them to life. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm against your ribcage, the rush of blood in your ears the only thing you can hear. He leans closer, eyes dropping to your lips and you know what's about to happen next but you can't bear the thought of stopping him as he closes the scant distance between your mouths.

For the briefest moment, you allow yourself the chance to just feel. No thoughts, no panic, no worry. Just Joel's warm lips moving against yours, the trace of his palm from you cheek to behind your head, pulling you closer even though you're already tightly pressed to him. It's slow and deep, like he's trying to convince you down to your marrow that this is where you're supposed to be.

But it's not.

You push him away and he doesn't fight you, but the look he gives you damn near shatters your resolve. His eyes are dark, jaw tense, hands flexing at his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back, damn the consequences. Your eyes and throat burn with the effort of holding back the tears that threaten to spill.

"You need to leave," you whisper. "You can't do this, we can't do this. I'm getting married in two days, Joel!"

He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on the strands in frustration. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't lay awake at night thinkin' what a fuckin' asshole I am for fallin' in love with my best friend's fiancé?!" He shouts.

"This isn't love, Joel--"

"Don't," he snaps. "Don't you lie to me. I know it, you know it, hell, the fuckin' lady at the dress shop knew it!" He takes a deep breath. "I'm showin' you my whole hand here and you won't even lay down a goddamn card!"

"There is no card!" You shout.

"You kissed me back!" He counters.

You stare at each other for a long moment, like two scared, wounded animals. Eventually, one of you has to back down, retreat, lick their wounds until they've healed in a messy pattern of scar tissue that will serve as a painful reminder of what could have been.

Joel sighs, another pass of his hand through his hair as he says, "You know what? Fine." He turns to leave, the line of his shoulder lower, his head low.

A glutton for punishment, you call out, "Joel?"

"Yeah?" He asks, weary. Bone tired. You feel it, too.

"Will you still be there tomorrow?" You ask, unsure of which answer would be worse.

Another sigh. "Yeah. I'll be there."

The door slams shut behind him.

Your rehearsal dinner is torture.

This should be one of the happiest events of your life but all your energy is being directed at avoiding Joel like the plague. He moves through the crowd comfortably, having known many people in attendance for most of his life, and you feel like an unmoored boat, hoping a wave doesn't crash over you.

Alex sits beside you, drinking from a glass of whiskey as he talks to one of his uncles that has been praising him for landing the opportunity to work with such a prestigious law firm right after college. A dizzying rotation of people approach you through the night - friends who chatter excitedly about the big day tomorrow, aunts who ask when you think you'll have children, uncles who tell you that they're proud of you for landing such a successful, promising young man. It's those last comments that have you hiding a frown in your champagne glass.

It drags on forever, this constant stream of polite conversation and forced smiles. When you finally return to the hotel that you're staying at for the night, you start to feel like you can breathe again. You have a suite separate from Alex's for getting ready early in the morning and he walks you to your room, hand on your low back, a smile on his face.

"I'll see you in the morning," he says, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "My almost wife."

The sentiment has bile rising in your throat and as he turns to leave you're blurting the words, "I can't do this."

"Sweetheart, you're just nervous," he says, voice surprisingly calm. He squeezes your shoulders. "You just need to sleep it off and everything will be fine in the morning."

"No," you tell him, shaking your head. "No, it won't be fine."

His smile drops, like a mask has just been removed. "Where is this coming from? Everything was fine at the rehearsal."

"Everything was not fine at the rehearsal!"

Alex takes the room key from your hands, unlocked the door and ushering you inside. He flicks on the light to the sitting area and takes a seat on the couch.

"What's going on with you?" He asks, exasperation dripping from his words. "What do you mean the rehearsal wasn't fine? Did you not like the food or something?"

You stare at him incredulously. "The problem wasn't the food, Alex! The problem is us!"

"There's no problem with us," he says. "Unless there's something you want to tell me?"

"What do you mean?" You ask.

He stands, coming close. "Is this about Joel?"

"No!" You snap, perhaps too quickly. "This isn't about Joel."

"Then what is it? Because as far as I know, we're a perfectly happy couple."

"Perfectly happy? Alex, you didn't even help me plan this wedding. Not a single minute of it."

"Not this again," he groans. "Sweetheart, let it go. I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you need to hear?"

Your jaw aches with how hard your teeth grind together as he dismisses you so easily. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth steadies you enough to say, "I'm not marrying you."

"Baby, please," Alex says. For the first time, he sounds panicked. "Don't make any rash decisions, alright? Whatever this is, we can work through it. If I lose you, I lose everything."

Maybe he's right. Maybe the stress of the last few months has just caught up to you.

"Okay," you whisper. He breathes a sigh of relief and presses another kiss to your temple.

"I love you," he says. "Everything will be okay after tomorrow. You'll see."

You don't say anything back, and he doesn't wait around for a response. He leaves your suite, the click of the door shutting loud in the late night silence. You stand there for who knows how long, wondering if he's right. Would everything be alright after tomorrow? Could you sweep those lingering feelings for Joel to the side in favor of the life you'd been building for the last few years?

You know what the safe choice is, but is it the right choice?

It's the morning of your wedding day and you've been poked and prodded with makeup brushes and your hair has been perfectly styled for the occasion. Flashbulbs have been going off on the cameras that are documenting your special day, capturing moments like your bridesmaids helping you into your dress and your dad's first look, a handkerchief clutched in his hand as he smiled at you.

For the first time in hours, you're alone in your suite. The makeup artist and hair stylists have packed up and taken their leave and your friends are downstairs, waiting for the limousine. You told them you would be just a minute longer.

A soft knock at your door has you realizing that you may have taken too long and you shout an apology as you rush to answer it. But it's not one of your friends on the other side like you had expected.

It's Joel.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. His hair is styled, curls smoothed and slicked back into submission. His white shirt is a stark contrast to his navy blue tuxedo, matching bow tie tight around his neck. His boutonnière is slightly crooked where it sits pinned to his jacket lapel. He looks you up and down with a small smile.

"You look beautiful," he says. He reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours. Never quite folding together, but never quite letting go, either.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"Are you ready?" He asks. You wonder if he knows, if Alex told him or if he can just see it on your face.

"Yes."

It's a lie, one you've been repeating since your alarm went off this morning after a night of tossing and turning. His smile falters, but doesn't drop.

"Good, that's....good," he says. His hand leaves yours, and you feel like you've had an entire unspoken conversation that's left you both defeated. "Lets go get you married."

Joel Miller masterlist

All masterlists

divider graphic by @saradika-graphics.

[yesimwriting]

pleaseee write smth about that fight between Felix and reader

a/n i've been thinking about this scene for days so when i saw this ask i got so hyped

warnings: reader being AFAB/female is plot relevant (reader's father has always wanted a son), implied emotional/financial parental abuse (not described in too much detail), potentially inaccurate portrayal of early-ish 2000's phones bc i was a toddler during their oxford era, hurt/comfort

we're getting into reader's background!!

itallic texts = from felix, bold texts = from reader

There's a scratch embedded into the dark mahogany. It's small, no wider than something you could make with your finger nail.

"How's your food?"

Your attention shifts towards the ceramic plate that's almost covering the dining table's only blemish. "It's good," you mumble with a slight nod, fork instinctually jabbing at a piece of food without you even looking at it. "Yours?"

"Great," he hums casually, cutting into his steak. "Part of the reason I picked this hotel is because of the restaurant. The visiting chef's a guy that I met in New York when he was looking into financing an international expansion of his franchise."

You bring your utensil to your lips. "That's cool, daddy."

The comment only strengthens the question that's been silently ebbing at your mind since your father first suggested lunch. Why did he order room service instead of taking you to the hotel's restaurant? Your dad has always loved the ambiance, the leisure of sitting in a nice restaurant.

"Is that why you're in town?" You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "To finalize something with the chef?"

He sets down his knife. "That and a few other business arrangements that needed to be checked on." He pauses, shoulders relaxing. "And to see you, too, Ace. It feels like it's been awhile since we talked."

Your lips quirk into what's almost a smile. When your father called to let you know that he'd be staying near Oxford for work and that he wanted you to visit, you had been apprehensive at first. Your mother was cautiously supportive of the idea.

Things with your father have been relatively stable recently. He liked the way no university seemed off limits to you with your grades and extracurriculars. He loved the idea of a daughter studying abroad at Oxford (which, is part of the reason you seriously considered Princeton for some time). And he's been drinking less. Part of that whole reborn, second marriage to a late-20-something methodist thing.

"Yeah, dad," you agree, as sincerely as you can manage, "It's been awhile."

"You know I'm friends with one of your deans." He doesn't give you a chance to reply. "We had coffee together, and he told me you're on track to finish in the top 10%." Rumors about the top percentages had been circling around Oxford for the past month. Still, it's relieving to know. "Congratulations, Ace."

This time, your smile meets your eyes. "Thanks."

He smiles, a flash of something practiced and charming. "When I get home, the first thing I'm doing is picking out a gift to send to you."

"If you need time, you can always wait and give it to me over the summer."

The infamous summer. Your mother is going to be spending most of the summer volunteering for an organization that brings counseling to children that have survived traumatic experiences but can't affording therapy. Your father suggested that you stay with him for a little while so that you wouldn't have to spend an entire two months in an empty house.

He stretches an arm like he wants to pick up his fork, but decides against it. "I--I want to tell you something." His tone is softer now, almost hesitant. "But you have to promise not to cry."

You try to swallow around the lump in your throat, body familiar with the command. "Okay?"

"I don't know if this summer's going to work out the way we talked about." He taps his fingers against the surface of the table. Your eyes lock on the scratch marring the wood. "Things have gotten complicated."

"Complicated?"

Your father sighs. "I'm sure you've noticed Christine's not here." You can't bring yourself to react at the mention of your step-mother's name. "She isn't in--she isn't in the best condition to travel." The tapping continues. "Christine's pregnant. She's due in early June, and she isn't having an easy time. I think it'd be best to not do anything that could potentially be stressful."

Oh.

"It's a boy."

Oh. A boy. With his perfect wife, in his perfect penthouse on the Upper East Side. Of course. Of fucking course.

You can't breathe right or thing of the way you're supposed to react. All you can do is stare at the scratch. At the only thing that indicates that anything bad has ever happened to the table.

"You promised you wouldn't cry." The words feel far. "You look too much like your mother when you cry."

That seems to force you back to earth. Any and all reminders of your mother must be eradicated in his presence. "I know. I'm not going to cry." You blink once, hand moving to wipe away tears you refuse to let spill. "Congratulations."

He's quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, before finally settling on a perfunctory, "Thank you." After a beat of silence, he continues, "Were you planning on staying tonight? I was thinking of flying back early, but I can--"

"Oh, no," you shake your head once, "I actually have a lot of homework, so it's probably better for me to get back."

Your father nods, "Always the academic, Ace." He pushes his seat back. "If you're done eating, I can walk you to the lobby and have my driver take you back."

"Yeah," you push back your own seat and stand, "Sounds good."

The two of you reach the front doors of the suite. "Hey," your father starts, "Why don't you travel this summer? That's all I did during college breaks. I'll pay so you can do it up right. You should go somewhere with a friend. Paris, maybe. You two always had fun as kids."

You nod once, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, daddy, I'll ask Paris about what she's doing this summer."

"Good." He pauses at the door, reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out his wallet and counts out a few bills. "Here. A pre-gift." You hesitate. "C'mon, top 10%."

Your mother's voice rings in your ears. He won't change, you might as well take the money. You stretch out a hand, forcing a smile as you take the cash. "Thanks."

----

Stupid. You're so fucking stupid.

You really thought you'd be there all weekend. You really thought Christine would let you into her home for longer than a day or two.

And the pregnancy thing? That--that's going to get back to your mom in one way or another if you don't tell her. And hearing that, hearing that your dad's finally getting his son is going to kill her.

It's all you've been thinking about since you got back yesterday afternoon. After mumbling a halfhearted explanation to your roommate, you changed into some pajama shorts and a giant T-shirt that you only realized was Felix's after the fact and crawled into bed. You've moved as little as possible since.

Something near the foot of your bed buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You flip the phone open, immediately noticing three text notifications. From Felix.

hope ur weekend's going better than mine

lovie

i feel abandoned

Despite your angst, you smile to yourself before sending a response: it's been one day.

After a minute, there's another text on your screen: so it's a crime to miss u. You roll your eyes, fondness pooling in your stomach. how are u doing.

The second question, though sincere, forces you to spiral. You want to be honest. You don't lie to Felix and he doesn't lie to you.

But, everything comes with exceptions, and making sure no one finds out how tense things actually are with your dad is yours. Before you two got close, it felt too private, and once you finally did, a few comments from Felix's friends made you feel like the worst thing you could do for your friendship was let him see any kind of darkness.

It's not that he'd judge you, he'd just want to help you so badly that it'd take over everything else. Farleigh's made it clear that Felix loves a charity case. And you don't want to be that. You won't let your dad take that from you, either.

You want to say that you're fine, maybe text a comment about things being a little awkward because it's no secret that your mom took care of you after the divorce. But lying about being on campus feels like something that could easily morph into something else.

Felix, who actually has enough of a social life to pull sleazy moves like that never has. i'm sick. came home early.

ur back!

why didn't u tell me

i'm sick, can't hang out

are u ok

do u need anything

Guilt prods at you. You've been texting him on and off since yesterday and never mentioned that you came back early. Felix is always so good to you. But, you're in no place to see him. no just need rest

You shut your phone. You're not sure that saying you're sick is enough to keep Felix away all weekend, but it could be enough to keep him away tonight. It's Saturday night. He'll have plans.

And tomorrow, you'll feel better. More stable.

"I have some time before I'm supposed to go to Jake's. I stole some bread from the dining hall." Nadia's offer is gentle. "Do you want to go feed the ducks?"

You wipe at your face. "That's a really nice offer, Nadia, but I'm feeling a little sick. Maybe when you get back?"

She frowns. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, "I just need some sleep."

"You've been sleeping on and off since yesterday afternoon." Nadia hesitates, eyes darting towards the bathroom. She does need to start getting ready for her date. "Maybe you can call Felix later? It's Saturday night, you know there's some terribly exclusive, not meant for any of us ordinaries party he's dying to take you to."

The attempt at humor is enough to get you to roll onto your side. "Since when do you like Felix?"

To be fair, Nadia's never disliked Felix. Before you became friends with him, she had a bit of a crush on him in that way that all freshmen girls at Oxford do. After you started hanging out with him all the time, that crush turned into an awareness that fueled her worry. She's always implied her concern that he'd eventually hurt you.

"I've never not liked him," she mumbles, "I was just scared he'd break your heart, but, the last couple of times he's come over...something about the way he looks at you."

"So you finally accepted we're just friends?"

She walks towards the bathroom, "Didn't say that."

You roll your eyes, letting yourself rest on your back. You shut your eyes, trying to force out any thoughts of the outside world as you drift off.

The familiar creek of the hinges of your room's door pulls you back to reality slowly.

"Took you long enough." Nadia's voice. "All she does is sleep and mope. She didn't even want to go feed the ducks today."

"She loves feeding the ducks." Another familiar, much more moving voice. You manage to move, wiping at your eyes as you sit up.

"I know!"

You finally sit up, blinking your eyes as your vision adjusts. Felix. He's standing in near the foot of your bed. "Felix--I-I told you I'm fine. Just a little sick."

"Nadia called and told me the opposite."

You turn your head to glare at you roommate, who doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "You stole my phone and called him?"

"I had to," she defends. "All you do is sleep and cry, and you've been like this since you came back yesterday."

Felix's expression drops as soon as the final word comes out. Your eyes widen, head shaking as subtly as possible as if a too late warning will erase the sentence from existence.

"Wait," his voice is softer than you've ever heard it, "You've been back since yesterday and you didn't tell me?"

You swallow, unable to look away from Felix.

"I--I have to go." Nadia's announcement breaks through the stiff silence. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so um..." She turns away, swinging an overnight bag over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. You can't blame her for running out as soon as possible.

"Felix," your voice is low, gravely, "Darling."

"Don't." His eyebrows pinch together, sadness tinging his expression. It doesn't fit him. "Why--why wouldn't you tell me you were here?"

You sit up a little straighter, wiping at your eyes with the back of your palm. "I told you I'm sick. I'm not up for anything right now."

Felix is still watching you with that kicked puppy look. "That doesn't--" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "You know I don't care if you don't want to do anything. We can--we can just sit or-or talk, or read or--do nothing." Felix presses his lips together, "I thought you knew that."

You know he's right, and that makes it harder to look at him. Felix would have been a sweetheart about it. He would have let you mope, cry even, and he would've spent the entire time holding you. It should have been easy to tell Felix, instinctual...and yet...

Your eyes briefly shut. "I do." The admission's painful to get out. Some of your hesitation was over the way Felix reacts to tragedy, but the rest is something more personal. Telling Felix would have solidified it. Would have made that label of 'abandoned child' that you've always been so wary about permanent. "It's more than that."

"Then what is it?"

Sighing, you push yourself to the edge of your bed. "My head hurts, I need a Tylenol."

Your words and movements are drowsy as you push yourself to stand. Felix takes a partial step forward before forcing himself to freeze into place. It's hard not to help you.

"Then what is it?"

You push open the bathroom door. "I don't--I don't know." It's a weak attempt at dismissing the conversation before things go to a place that you can't handle right now. "I couldn't get the words out." Still can't.

You find the pill bottle you were looking for on the bathroom counter and start working at twisting off the childproof cap. "We tell each other everything eventually." His voice is dry, almost hesitant. "At least, I do. We trust each other."

Your eyes shut as you sigh, fingers briefly releasing the top of the bottle. "Maybe that's not trust. Maybe that's your life being so perfect there's nothing you need to keep secret."

The words come out in a rush, angry and sharp. Regret floods through you instantly. "I'm sorry."

"No." The syllable is hard. "No. You're not. Don't do that. Don't--don't start saying what you think I need to hear--or keeping in what you think I don't." There's a concerned anger there, an unfitting combination that you don't have the energy to decode. "What could be so bad you can't tell me? We know about Ollie's parents and that didn't change anything, did it?"

Actually, things did change a little. Oliver's broken home life seemed to only make Felix want to pull Oliver into his world even more. You hate thinking it, because it's insensitive and a little mean, but of course Oliver was willing to give Felix all the gritty details.

After the initial implications came out, Felix devoured them with the same silver spoon that was placed in his mouth at birth. In a way, Felix's desire to fix and ease pain brought them closer together. And it probably means more to Oliver coming from Felix than anyone else.

But your relationship with Felix is different. You don't want sadness and coddling to be what makes you feel certain in your bond with Felix. You want things to stay the same. You don't want to give your dad anyway to change one of the most important connections in your life.

"You have a big heart, Felix, and I love that about you." Your hand reaches for the Tylenol again. "But I don't want you helping me to become all that I am to you. I don't want to be a charity case." You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing at your wording. "And--and I'm not trying to say that Ollie's just a charity case, it's that--some stuff Farleigh's said and--" Tears are pricking the edge of your vision.

"You're more than that," he scoffs the words out like it's ridiculous he even has to say that, "Of course you're more than that, I thought you knew." He scoffs. "I--I don't just wait around for people."

You scoff, the sound almost a bitter laugh. "Oh--so now it's not about trust, it's about your ego. That I don't just sit around next to my phone, waiting for the Felix Catton to call me."

Felix takes a step forward, "It's not about that!" You raise your eyebrows, uncertainty leaving you frozen. Felix has never yelled at you before. "...It's not about that," he repeats, voice a more acceptable volume. He takes another step forward, his fingers finding your forearm. "You know how I meant it."

There's a tension in the way he's touching your arm. It's nothing harsh, if anything it's almost too soft. Hesitant. He's watching you with an intensity that pins you into place more than his actual hold.

You wouldn't be surprised by his anger, you're not even sure you'd be able to blame him for it, but that's not what you see when you look at him. You can't exactly read the look behind his eyes, but something about it reminds you of Nadia's earlier comment.

It's heavy. Too heavy for you to think about tonight. That's how Felix is. He's intense. All consuming. When all you do is blink at him, he lets go of your arm.

"Felix."

His eyes dart towards the ground, body angling itself away from you.

It's subtle, and not a direct dismissal, but after everything that's already happened, it's enough to serve as a final nail hammered into your chest. "I don't want things to change between us." You sigh, finally getting the pill bottle's lid to pop off. "Because I'm fine."

You force a smile, but there's a tightness to your features that makes it feel like a grimace. "It's not a big deal. So my dad asked me not to come home this summer, because his wife's pregnant and he doesn't want to 'stress her out'. I'm fine." You can feel the tears welling in your eyes. "Y'know it's a b-oy." Your voice cracks on the last word, a laugh or maybe a sob interrupting the single syllable. "So um...good for him, he's finally getting his son."

Felix is watching you cautiously, expression not quite sympathetic, but not relaxed either. "Oh my god, I have to tell my mom. And it--it's going to kill her." You gasp the words like the realization's just hit you, even though it's been on your mind since the beginning. "I don't know why I said that like I'm surprised--because I--" You laugh, the sound shrill and uneasy, "But it's whatever. I'm fine."

You nod once, as if that'll be enough to make you feel fine. Another sound comes out, this one a lot closer to a whimper. "I'm fine. I don't know why I'm being so dramatic. I'm fine. I'm--" You squeeze your arms around your waist, supporting yourself the way Felix usually would.

You're crying openly now, tears blinding you. This is pathetic. You need to get it together.

You're pulled forward with no warning, your body hitting something solid and warm. Felix.

His arms around you, firm and supportive. It's surprising enough to force a full breath of air into your lungs. For a moment, all there is Felix. You inhale again, and again, doing your best to hold the air in your lungs.

Felix's hand smooths circles against your back. He whispers soothing words that you can barely make out. Between that and the even rhythm of his heart, you manage to ground yourself.

"You don't have to be nice to me right now," you mumble into his shirt. "I was really mean to you."

He continues to trace patterns against your spine. "We don't have to talk about that right now."

"I know," you whisper, "I just--I don't want you to feel like you can't be mad at me."

He gently smooths your hair away from your face. "Can I be mad from right here?"

"Yeah." You sniffle once, letting your chin press into his chest so that you can look up at him. "If you want to."

"Then okay," he mumbles, knuckles running up and down the length of your spine, "I'll be mad from right here."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

[sp0o0kylights]

Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine. 

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup 

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running. 

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard. 

 His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it. 

 That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules. 

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it. 

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was  using Eddie as an excuse. 

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor. 

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself. 

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing. 

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp. 

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned. 

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?" 

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled. 

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care." 

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless. 

Steve blinked at him. 

"What?" He said. 

In for a penny right?

 "I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick." 

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force. 

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately. 

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either. 

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it. 

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife. 

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive. 

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way." 

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”) 

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it. 

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time." 

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

“You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.”

Isaac Lahey X Reader

TW; Mentions of physical abuse. 

Word Count: 819

Part two

You have looked in the locker room, the art room and outside in the quad and still can’t find him. You  woke up this morning, put on the cutest outfit you own and spent extra time on your hair and came up with the best plan.. There is no chance he will say no… Right? 

As you walk into the library you finally spot the messy mop of dirty blonde hair. 

“Isaac! Isaac!” You whisper shout as you walk over to where he is sitting in the ground leaning against one of the bookshelves. You don’t know why this wasn’t the first place you looked. This has always been a safe space for Isaac to come to when he needed to get away.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he whispers, shouts back successfully, mocking me with a cocky grin on his lips. 

Laughing, You walk over and drop my bag next to him and it’s a quiet thump. “I had the most perfect idea, and before you say ‘no’ just hear me out?” You ask with a pleading look on your face. Isaac eyes you suspiciously and slowly nods his head for you to continue. 

Isaac and you have been friends since we were six. Your moms were best friends and would force you two to hangout with each other all the time. Even when he thought girls had cooties. He has always been my favorite person and you did everything you could to protect him. When he would get picked on in school you would tell off anyone who was mean to him. When he would get hurt on the playground you would be the first one to help him clean and bandage his wounds. When his mom died and he started coming to school with bruises and cuts that he refused to explain to you, you made sure that your window was always cracked and unlocked for him to climb through.

He said he always felt safe when he was with you. And since you couldn’t do anything about his dad hurting him, you did the best thing you could think of. You were always there for him. He was your best friend after all. 

“So you know how Matt won’t leave me alone? How he asks me out every time he sees me?” You ask nervously while nibbling slightly on your lip. 

Still looking at you with suspicion he shakes his head yes. “Well I was thinking that maybe. You would pretend to be my boyfriend. Just for a day to get him off my back.” You rushed out. Anxious to see his reaction. 

He’s quiet for a moment, before looking at you like you’ve lost my mind. “Are you crazy? He will never believe that.” He laughs nervously. 

Turning towards him you put my hands together and begged the dirty blonde next to you. “Please Isaac. Please, please. I know this will work and you’re my best friend, who better to pretend to date than you?” 

He rolls his eyes “Why can't you ask Scott?” 

“It’s more believable if it’s you. I mean we’ve been best friends forever, half the school thinks there is something going on between us anyways.” You say with a roll of your eyes. 

It's true. Since Isaac and you have been friends for so long, everyone is always bothering you two about when you're going to start dating. It's not that you don't like Isaac that way. You do. You love him, and he has told you he loves you too. But you both agreed that you should stay friends. You are both too important for the other to lose. 

Isaac looks at you seriously. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N.” 

“I really didn't want to do this… But you owe me Isaac Lahey.” His seriousness drops into a look of guilt.  

He did owe you. After he was turned by Derek, and after he accidentally attacked you, you stayed at Dereks with him for weeks, until he found his anchor. Which by the way he still hasn't told you what it is. 

He sighs in defeat. “I meant I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.” Isaac has never been able to say no to your pouty face, and with everything you did for him in the past he grudgingly agrees. 

“Fine, I will help you. Just know that I think this is a horrible idea.” He states with a half smile. Your smile on the other hand is wide and excited. You throw your arms around him in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you!” you cheer, kissing his cheek. 

“Tomorrow, be ready!” You yell getting up and walking out of the library. As he watches you walk away all Isaac can think about is how screwed he is to fake date the love of his life.

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Masterlist

[gothiethefairy]

so, i've been thinking about laios's relationship with his mother. we all know about his daddy issues by now, but no one thinks about his mother. i mean, he disowned her as well. he hardly talks about her. he has a lot to say about his dad but when it comes to his mother, the most he'll say is "idk, she was kinda sick a lot."

and i think it was because he did hold her on a high pedestal. she's his mother, his protector. i know for sure she babied him a lot. mothers who's first-born is a son mostly do.

she was the one who even gifted him his precious monster manual!

so, what happened? why did he also lump her with his father and decided "i'm never speaking to them ever again." ?

to put it in simple terms, it was falin. laios was so upset about how his parents treated the situation about the villagers' abuse to falin. both of them didn't know how to handle it, but they both failed at protecting her. the best their father can come up with is sending falin away to the magic school. (without explaining why bc their dad sucked at communicating with his family.)

their village was also very conservative, especially towards magic-users. i always found it to be odd since magic does seem to be the norm in the "dungeon meshi" world, however evidence shows it's not all well-known all around the world. i mean, rin's parents were burnt to death for using magic that was thought to be "black magic".

and falin's natural magical talent being "talking to the dead" would make anyone nervous bc that could be linked to black magic.

their mother is always described to be "frail", and i bet it's mostly because she's very superstitious. gotta be honest here as well, she maybe wasn't mentally healthy. this is just an assumption but their mom comes off as paranoid and anxious, and then does these made-up rituals to try to "heal" her daughter.

hurting falin like this was the final nail in the coffin for laios, because maybe he thought he could rely on her? "hey mom, can you tell dad not to send falin away? please?"

yeah, she had "good intentions", but she still abused her daughter? because she made the situation about herself and went "oh god, it's my fault my daughter is a freak. i have to fix this."

also, laios looking so stressed and haggard here makes me so sad. like, what if their mother did something similar to him when he was younger? he wouldn't care about himself getting hurt, but seeing his own mother doing it to falin is nerve-wrecking.

the way both siblings are portrayed as autistic in different ways is important to their characters. just because falin understood why their parents did what they did, doesn't make it okay. they still hurt her, and laios knows that. and in a way, they hurt him too.

if their parents couldn't protect them from awful, nasty people and expected their children to just bare it, how can laios trust them?

this is scary to see for a child.

after that, he pretty much gave up on his parents and never looked back. but i also think, if he misses them, it's more his mother than his father.

afterall, he did his best to keep his monster manual safe.

[fangirl-writes]

The Fall

JJ Maybank x Reader; Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warning(s): swearing, drugs, mentions of child abuse, assault.

12K Words.

Request can be found here.

Summary: When JJ takes the fall for you, you're determined to break even, even if that includes sacrificing yourself to the kooks. But there's more to it than that. This is the story of a deal, a debt, and more complicated feelings than you can handle.

Notes: Babes this is a behemoth. I think it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written (which is why I’ve been dead for months lmao) but I wanted to tell the story the request was asking for in a proper way and I think I did. Here we are.

In hindsight, you could’ve handled it better.

But if there was anything to know about you, it was that you're reckless and that nobody messes with your friends.

Especially not Pope.

It was just karma, right?

Just karma when Topper’s 2020 Malibu luxury boat sank like a brick to the bottom of the dock.

But no, as JJ would say, this was war.

You didn’t think they’d find out. Didn’t think charges would be pressed. And you definitely didn’t think they’d blame Pope for it.

“Hey, Pope,” Heyward said, coming into the shop where the group of you (minus John B. because where the heck was he anyway?) were packing groceries. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Pope straightened immediately upon seeing Shoupe enter behind his dad.

“Evening officer.”

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property,” Shoupe said.

Pope looked back at you and JJ with horror in his eyes.

“Keep your hands on the counter where I can see them.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you protested.

“Shoupe what’d he do?”

Shoupe pulled Pope’s hands behind his back, “take a look at the warrant, Heyward.”

Your heartbeat sped up as you took in the situation, Kiara, JJ, and Heyward protesting over each other, Pope’s expression more scared by the second as they hauled him out towards the squad car.

And you made a decision.

Hang the consequences; hang your college career and whatever else you had to deal with. This was your fault.

You opened your mouth to admit it, to tell Shoupe the truth of the matter, but before you could get a word out, JJ’s hand covered your mouth, pulling you back and gesturing for you to stay quiet.

You shook your head slightly, searching his face for a reason.

He gave you a sad, tight lipped smile, and turned away.

“It wasn’t him!”

Your heart sank as you realized what JJ was about to do.

“It was me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “JJ, please-“

“No, Y/N, it’s okay,” he replied. “They tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he’d just been beaten up. And I was so fed up with those assholes from Figure 8 that I just lost my shit.”

It was the whole story. Word for word the truth…except that it was you and not him.

Pope looked at you and then at JJ.

“I can’t let you take the blame for something I did.”

JJ looked back at you and then Pope. “You’ve just got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what are you doing?” Pope asked.

“I’m telling the truth,” he replied. “For once in my goddamn life, I’m gonna tell the truth.”

You looked at Kiara, then at Pope, then at JJ.

Why? Why was he doing this?

“I took his old man’s boat, too.”

“What the hell?” Heyward said.

“JJ, come on-“ you said, taking a step forward.

“Just shut up, Y/N!” JJ said, voice so loud it made you curl away. “Just shut up.”

The tears began to fall.

“He’s a good kid,” JJ said to Shoupe. “You know where I’m from.”

Shoupe eyed him before replying, “yeah.”

“It’s just all me.”

You couldn’t let JJ do this, but if you came forward now everything would unravel and Pope would surely be hauled in regardless.

So, it was over.

You let JJ take the fall for you, watching him be carted away like the criminal that he wasn’t.

“I’m gonna kill him for this,” you said.

You’d know JJ for almost as long as you’d known Pope.

The two of you crossing over with JJ and John B. in fourth grade and the rest was history. You were mirrors in a way; John B. and Pope the more level-headed, less impulsive two, while you and JJ were more reckless, more stupid.

Pope always told you it was going to get you in trouble one day.

Your family thought the same.

You had a foul mouth, delinquent friends, a weed habit that was consistently enabled, and anger issues that probably needed put in check.

Hence the revenge plot.

But then there was JJ. The other side of your coin, your enabler, your partner in crime. It always worked out and he always assured you it would. And you always believed him.

But not this time.

When JJ showed up to Midsummers, where you were helping out Pope and Heyward, you went after him.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“Woah, hey, Y/N. No, ‘thanks for saving my ass, JJ, you’re so hot for that’?”

“Don’t. Not now.”

He chuckled uncomfortably as you took his face in your hands.

A busted lip he’d already had, though the blood was fresh, but the bruises littering his face and upper body were all new.

“Did Luke do this to you?” You hissed. “Did that asshole rough you up for a thing you didn’t do?”

“I’m fine! Look, he was just pissed about the money-“ JJ said, a waver in his voice.

“What money?”

“Restitution. I’ve gotta pay for what I broke. 30k.”

“30k?!” You squeaked.

“Shh!” JJ said, hands on your shoulders. “Look I’m on a mission here and you’re gonna blow my cover.”

“What? JJ, we’ve gotta talk about this. I’ve been worried sick-“

“Sick? You don’t look sick.”

“Stop! JJ, god! I should never have let you do that, I should’ve spoke up-“

“Y/N!” Your face in his hands, JJ scared you silent for the second time that day. “Shut up, okay? Trust me. Trust. Me.”

Pope was there next, hugging JJ and blabbering just as you had been, but JJ shut him down.

“John B. and I got it all sorted out,” he said. “We’re gonna be filthy rich. We’re back in the G-game, baby.”

“What?” You hissed quietly. “We’re still on the gold thing?”

“I thought we lost the G-game,” Pope said.

“Yeah, well, we’re in overtime now.”

Your head was spinning. Between the restitution and the gold and JJ’s bruised face, you wanted to go back in time. Change the outcome and maybe you’d be the one who took the fall for once.

Maybe for once you could’ve protected JJ.

“Be right back,” he said. “I’ll explain later.”

You watched him go, confused and worried.

“What the hell is he talking about?”

Ignoring Pope, you followed JJ, watching him pass off a note to Sarah before getting intercepted by Rafe and Kelce.

"I'm wonderin' if you could get me a mai tai, my friend?"

"Yeah, pogue, how about you make that two?"

"Well, I'm on the clock right now. You guys look spiffy," JJ replied. "You know, uh, I got a couple of orders ahead of you, so why don't you guys go ahead and wait by the bar?"

No. No, no, no, no, no. You wouldn’t let this happen again.

"Until then, help yourself to some hors d’oeuvres."

"Oh yeah?" Rafe said, motioning to a few more kooks. "Hey guys, JJ's gonna serve us some hors d’oeuvres."

JJ began to backpedal, running out of the situation and you hurriedly followed.

It was quite a scene, JJ running through the Island Club, the kook guys chasing him, and you chasing them.

“Hey, man, what’re you doing in the locker room, huh?”

JJ immediately turned around and tried to head the way he came, but he was surrounded.

“Wow, that’s a cute outfit,” JJ said, stumbling into Rafe.

“Shut up,” Rafe replied, shoving him into Kelce.

“Hold him still. What do you think? A four iron, right?” Rafe said, adjusting his hands like he was holding a golf club. “Keep his head still, I’m gonna line this up.”

“Very Rafe of you, Rafe,” JJ spat, struggling to breathe. “Five on one?”

"Now, would you please stop talking?" Rafe replied with a smirk. “It’s very disrespectful when I’m trying to hit a ball. Learn your etiquette my friend.”

"Rafe!"

A surprised pause washed over the locker room as you slid into view.

"Oh, another pogue to the rescue," Rafe said. "You gotta have girls save you now, JJ? Tut, tut."

"Rafe." You repeated sternly. "Let him go."

"Oh, no shot, milkmaid," he replied, leaning down at JJ. "Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”

JJ spit in his face.

Rafe laughed, wiping it away with ease, looking almost impressed. “Oh, shit! See, now I'm even less inclined to let him go."

"Rafe!" you swallowed. "You let him go...and you can have me."

"What?" Rafe asked.

"What?!" JJ protested, struggling harder against Kelce.

Rafe stalked towards you. "Now, why would I want you?"

"Cause you always have," you said. "And" - you leaned closer to him, voice a whisper - "if you don't, I'll tell your dad exactly where all his money has been going."

You'd found Rafe's stash of dope multiple times back when you worked for the Camerons as a maid alongside your mom.

You never ratted, never had a reason to, until now.

"You know he'll believe me."

Rafe's eyes narrowed.

"Now let him go."

A beat, a standoff.

And Rafe snapped his fingers.

Kelce dropped JJ, who coughed and stumbled towards you.

"Okay, Y/N, we're even now, you saved me, let's go."

You smiled at him. "We're not even yet."

Before he could ask what you meant, the lights started flickering and you let out a sigh of relief as security entered the room.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “Is there a problem here, guys?”

“Oh! Pardon me, officer. No there’s not an issue, I just-” JJ said before starting over. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue.”

You watched JJ get to work. He could talk himself out of a situation better than anyone you knew.

“Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right? Blatant disrespect for private property,” JJ said.

The kooks looked like they wanted to react, but they wouldn’t so they wouldn’t get in trouble with their daddies.

"As you can see, I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir. But these young gentleman...”

JJ straightened Kelce’s collar.

“...uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do, escort me outta here. All right.”

Security, not caring enough to refute JJ’s bullshit of a story, did as requested and led him out of the room.

“Fix that tie, son,” JJ said, one last quip. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun. Y/N, come on.”

But you didn't move. Rafe's hands falling on your arms, his head hovering too close to your face. "I'll take good care of her, JJ, don't you worry. She's pretty hot for a pogue!"

“JJ, don’t!” You said but he’d already ripped himself away and went back to fight.

Thankfully, the security guard was there to separate them all again.

"Y/N!"

You felt your stomach dip as he called for you but you didn't move.

"Let's go guys," Rafe demanded, motioning for all his buddies to exit the room. Then he whispered in your ear. "I knew you'd come crawling to me eventually."

It sent a shiver up your spine.

Truth was, back in the day, you didn't think Rafe was so bad.

Maybe it was because it was always within earshot of his dad, but he'd always been nice to you when you worked for his family. Especially after you ran across his stash.

Course, it wasn't long after that that your family got the boot as apparently the Camerons decided having a maid was too bougie for them.

You always suspected he was the reason, but you don't have any proof of that.

And now, well, how does a poor person get 30k?

Maybe the lottery, maybe life insurance.

Or maybe they steal it.

It was just karma right? For all the years that the kooks had been giving pogues a hard time.

And the Camerons probably wouldn't even notice a little 30k was gone.

Right?

--

JJ was pacing at Rixon's cove.

The group had gone over the plan, where the gold was, the fight about Sarah.

"Just shut up, Kiara!" JJ shouted.

They all looked at him with wide eyes.

"Look, if we can meet with Sarah, maybe she can tell me if- maybe she can tell me where-"

"JJ, you're scaring us, bro, what is it?"

"It's Y/N."

"What?"

"JJ, where's Y/N?" Pope said.

"She gave herself up for me man!" JJ cried. "It was some eye for an eye bullshit, I told her we were even but she wouldn't listen! Now she's probably being Rafe's chew toy or something."

"Okay, gross."

"I'm serious! You didn't see the way he was looking at her, man. Like she was a piece of meat. I gotta go, I gotta save her-"

"Woah, JJ," John B. intercepted his friend. "You're gonna go running back into the lion's den? The only thing this is going to do is get Y/N and you into more trouble. We'll save, Y/N, I promise. And if she's at the Camerons' then Sarah there too and she won't let anything happen to Y/N."

He was distraught. "JB, you don't understand-"

"JJ," John B. said. "She's gonna be okay."

--

"You're better off without her man, trust me, I live with the bitch," Rafe said, arm thrown around you in Topper's car.

"Rafe, don't call your sister a bitch, man, come on," Topper replied.

"Yo, I'll call her whatever I want man. All right?"

You couldn't figure Topper out.

One minute he was nearly drowning John B. and the next he was defending Sarah's honor.

Seriously, what was his deal? Friend or fo?

"Come on, bro. Drink up, all right?" Kelce encouraged from the passenger.

"You really think you should be drinking and driving?" You asked, trying to grab the beer from Topper's hold but Rafe pulled you back.

"Ah, ah, ah, little pogie," he said. "Only speak when spoken to."

You glared at him.

"I gotta see her, man," Topper said. "We're not...we're not good right now."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up. Shut up, dude. Bad idea, muchacho," Rafe said.

"Just stick with the bevo, all right?" Kelce said.

You felt like a guppy surrounded by sharks.

"If you go there now, there is a high likelihood you go fetal," Rafe continued.

"Exactly."

"I'm not- I'm not going fetal," Topper argued.

"All right. It's your funeral." Rafe said. "It's your funeral."

Topper pulled up to the Camerons’ and got out, heading for the house.

"While we have the time," Rafe said. "How about we hammer out the details of our little deal here?"

"What deal?" You snapped.

"The deal where I lay off JJ and you stay here, with me."

"Oh-kay, I'm getting out," Kelce said, popping open the passenger door and bailing from the car.

"There is no deal, Rafe," you said. "You let JJ go and I'm here. That's all there is to it."

"No, no, no," Rafe replied, tightening his hold on you. "You said I could have you. That means you're mine now."

You sucked in a breath. "You're drunk. And probably high."

"I wouldn't blow at a party full of socialites all right? I'm not crazy."

Debatable.

"You on the other hand, I would love to see blow," he said, tugging on your chin.

Your face contorted with disgust as you pushed his hand off you.

He chuckled. "All right, we'll lead up to that. I'm sure you'll want it eventually."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're here right now, aren't you?" he said. "If you detested me as much as you act like you do, you wouldn't have gotten in this car."

Okay. True.

But he didn't know what you were really there for. In fact, he couldn't know. If he knew, you'd probably be arrested or worse.

And you needed to get that money.

"Fine. I'm yours," you said. "For now."

He smiled. "I could get used to hearing that. Come on, I'm not waiting on Topper."

He popped open the door and the two of you jumped out. He slung his arm back around your shoulders. "Bye, Kelce."

"Don't have too much fun, you two," he said back.

Rafe flipped him off as you guys entered the house.

"Rafe!" Ward came around the corner. His eyebrows going up at the sight of you. "And Ms. Y/N. I haven't seen you in a while, how are you? How's your mom?"

"We're both doing good, thanks," you replied, giving him an awkward smile.

He glanced between you. "So. Are you two-"

"Night, dad." Rafe said, pulling you along behind him and up the stairs.

"Hey, Rafe, no funny business! I'm serious, young man!" Ward called after you.

You couldn't help but laugh a little, despite the situation.

Rafe looked back at you and smirked.

He opened the door to his room.

It looked exactly as you remembered it, albeit messier.

"Sorry, didn't have time to clean up," he said, milling about the room as you took it in. "I'm sure you're dying for a hit."

You looked over to find him offering you a joint.

"Don't worry, it's just weed, I promise."

Though you weren't exactly inclined to believe him, you weren't in much of a situation to argue, so you took it.

Pulling a lighter out of your pocket, you lit the joint and took a drag.

It was almost muscle memory, having done the exact motion with JJ a number of times before.

Your stomach lurched.

JJ. What was he thinking right now? Was he okay?

You looked up and choked on the blunt smoke.

Rafe had taken off his shirt and was digging through his dresser for something.

You coughed into your hand, waving away the smoke and avoiding looking at him again. Shit. Had he always been attractive? Was that wrong to think?

"You, uh, want some clothes to change into, or?"

You looked at him again; he'd put a shirt on and at some point had changed into plaid pants.

"Uh, no, thanks I'm- I'm good," you replied, passing him the joint back.

He took a drag of it before stabbing it out in an ashtray near by, blowing the smoke through his nose.

He sat down on the bed next to you, sighing. He swayed a little, the alcohol and weed making its way through his system and relaxing him.

"If I tell you something," he started. "You promise you won't tell anyone else?"

JJ always said you had this way about you. A way that made people trust you, to believe you'd keep their secrets. Still, Rafe's sudden need to confide in you took you by surprise.

"I never told your dad about the drugs..."

"You can't use this against me," he said, looking you in the eyes. "You have to promise."

He was scaring you a little but, the intesity in his eyes a kind of seriousness you'd never seen before.

Cockiness, confidence, anger, even fear, but this was something new.

"I promise."

There was silence for a few moments as he hesitated, eyebrows knit together like he was thinking hard about what to say.

You were about to say something, ask him what it was, when-

"I'm scared."

You blinked. Of all the things he could have said, you were probably expecting that the least.

"Of what?" you asked.

"Of- Of-" he laughed breathily. "Of everything. That I've disappointed my dad. That I've ruined my life. That I'm spiraling out of control."

He put his head between his knees, running his fingers through his hair.

You weren't sure what to say. You didn't know him enough to reassure him none of it was true. To try to ease his fears. And, truth be told, you didn't like him enough to lie to him about it.

"I'm just...I don't know what to do."

A swell of pity trembled through you. Pity for the boy who's had a silver spoon in his mouth his whole life.

Who beat Pope with a golf club just because he was a pogue.

The pity morphed into anger.

You wanted to scream at him, tell him just what you thought about him and his fears.

But, then again, you were a pogue. If he beat up Pope for just walking by, what would he do to you if you did?

Swallowing the anger, you reached out and rubbed his back, soothingly.

If you could just pretend for a night that he was your friend, that he wasn't a total asshole, then you could get what you came here for. And, hopefully, never have to be alone with him again.

Rafe reached up, taking one of your hands in his. "Thank you," he said, squeezing it.

He sniffed, shifting his body so that he was facing you.

"I'm sorry. For dumping all that on you, you don't need that. You probably hate my guts anyway," he said.

You didn't reply.

"Then again," he said. "You're not running away screaming. Why is that?"

You licked your lips nervously, silent.

"Just this morning you would've spat in my face but you were willing to come here with me just to save your friend. And your still here. Why?"

"I'm a woman of my word," you said. "I said you could have me, remember?"

Rafe hummed. "And now?" his hand came up to brush along your cheek. "Can I have you now?"

The action fizzled out the anger from before and you felt your cheeks heat up.

What could you say?

Well, "no" probably would've been sufficient. Still, there was a lingering curiosity that ate at you as he leaned closer, eyes trained on your lips.

It was wrong, wasn't it? To wonder what it was like?

"I'm gonna need an answer here," Rafe said before repeating. "Can I have you now?"

The word left your lips before you could think about it. "Yes."

Then his lips were on yours. Softly, more gently than you ever would've imagined it, like he was savoring the moment, like he wasn't thinking at all.

He tasted like weed and beer, as you should've expected, but it strangely wasn't unpleasant.

It reminded you of JJ, who you kissed once before, drunkely at a beach blowout.

Neither of you talked about it afterwardds, but something in your dynamic had shifted after that.

Was thinking about JJ while kissing Rafe weird? Surely a girl shouldn't be thinking about someone else while kissing a guy.

I mean, surely Sarah wasn't thinking about someone else while kissing Topper-

Oh.

Oh.

You pulled away, resting your hands on Rafe's chest.

"I-I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no," Rafe said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay, I gave you permission-"

"You're just in my room and I-"

You both took a pause and a breath.

You sighed. "I just- uh- I don't know if I'm into you like that."

"Oh."

He seemed disappointed.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." he said, in a tone that told you it wasn't. "It's late. I can take you home if you want, or you can stay here. We've got a bunch of guest rooms-"

"Can I," you interrupted. "Just sleep on the floor? In here?"

Something about sleeping in one of the Cameron's fancy bedrooms when you were planning on stealing from them seemed extra wrong.

"Uh, sure," Rafe said. "Whatever you want."

There are only three types of relationships in the animal kingdom.

The first is commensalism. Fish finding hiding spots in coral reefs, but life for the coral doesn't change.

It was your family moving to Outer Banks. It was the winding trees at the chateu that you climbed often.

Then, there's mutualism, a relationship where both animals benefit from each other.

It was your friendship with the pogues. It was what JJ's sacrifice was going to be when you got the money.

And third, the parasitic.

"This is your room," Sarah said as John B. walked into it, eyes a little wide.

"Woah," he said, then tossed his hat on the bed and set down his bag full of everything he owned. Which was, admittedly, not much.

"Not too shabby, huh?" Sarah said.

"Yeah. Not too shabby at all."

"John B!" You came flying down the hall and into his new room, practically jumping into his arms.

"Y/N! AH- bruises, wrist, please-" he said.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry," you replied, backing away. "You okay?"

"Yeah. No, I'm good. I'm good."

You'd woken up that morning on Rafe's floor to about a thousand texts and calls on your now fully-charged phone telling you what happened at the hawk's nest.

Rafe had been the one to let you know, begrudgingly, that John B. would be staying at Tannyhill.

"Sarah Elizabeth Cameron," Ward said, coming around the corner. "And Ms. Y/N."

You gave him a respectful nod.

"You've already broken the first rule. What is the first rule?" Ward asked. "Stay out of each other's rooms."

You smiled.

"Seriously, this is like a minefield," he said, gesturing to the line at the doorframe. "Y/N, I can count on you to keep them in line?"

You mock saluted. "Yes, sir."

"Good," he said, pausing a moment. "Ladies, can you give me and the new inmate a quick minute here?"

"Oh, sure."

"Please be nice," Sarah asked.

"I'll be nice," Ward replied as the two of you left, walking down the hallway together.

The tension thickened immediately.

"So," Sarah started. "You and my brother, huh? What's that about?"y

Honestly, you weren't even sure yourself, but you gave her your most convicing smile. "I guess I kinda like him."

She didn't seem to be buying it. "I'm just saying, if you're doing this to prove a point or to get back at some pogue who hurt you. Stop."

You scowled. "And what about you and John B., huh? Last I heard you were dating Topper. He get too boring for you? Have you even broken up with him because last night-"

"Why don't you just stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours? Deal?" she snapped.

You rolled your eyes but nodded and she turned her cold shoulder into her room, leaving you alone in the hall.

You heard Ward leave John B.'s room so you swung back around and into it.

He looked up from the map in his lap and folded it over immedaitely.

"Okay, what the hell," he said. "Seriously, Y/N, you and Rafe?"

"Look, I'm not doing this because I want to, okay?" you said, voice barely above a whisper. "JJ took a fall for me and I need to pay him back."

"By stealing from the Camerons?" John B. asked, tensly. "Do you realize how insane that sounds?"

"Well, unless you have a less crazy way to get 30k in my hands, this is it," you replied.

"The gold, Y/N, we're going to get the gold."

"You and I both know the gold is a longshot!"

"And this isn't?"

"Let me try this, JB, and if you find the gold before I find some money, let me know," You said, turning to leave before pausing in the doorway. "And, please, don't tell JJ what I'm doing. We both know what he'd do."

John B. knew JJ best. And you were right.

"My lips are sealed," he promised, reluctantly.

—

"I'm sorry. You're staying where?" Kiara asked, later at The Wreck.

"Tannyhill," John B. replied, matter-of-factly.

"So you're living with Sarah Cameron."

John B. rolled his eyes. "Okay, look, the only reason I'm living there is because her dad bailed me out, right? And it's way better than foster care, which, by the way, is where I was about to go.”

"Hey, so do you have a membership to the clubs now?" Pope asked, ignoring Kiara's expression.

"I don't know, Pope."

"What about those golf carts they drive around? You get one of them?" JJ asked.

"Does it come with a sweatervest, or do you have to buy one on your own?"

"Look, you promised," Kiara said. "You said you weren't with her."

"Bro, just own it," JJ said. "She got you."

"Look, if you wanna hang out with her, that's fine," Kiara said in a tone that indicated it was, in fact, not fine. "But I'm letting you know now that I'm not doing anything with Sarah."

"Do you guys see her here?" John B. asked.

"Don't see Y/N either," JJ said, pouting. "God, I can't believe she's still with Rafe. It's making my blood boil."

"She's fine, JJ," John B. said. "A little focus would be fantastic."

And while the pogues went on their treasure hunt, you went on yours.

Sarah was downstairs and Rafe had split before you woke up, leaving you a note that said where he'd gone.

It was kinda sweet.

And it made you feel kinda guilty when you snooped around his room.

You found the usual apparel; porn magazines, old drug paraphernalia, socks you didn't even think about touching. But you didn't find any money.

You groaned, falling back onto his bed. Shit. Okay.

You poked your head out the door, looking around to make sure no one was there, then you crept from Rafe's room to a few other rooms.

The ones that weren't locked, you came up empty. But the last door seemed promising.

It was Ward's office, that much was clear, judging by the big desk and bigger painting.

Your eyebrows raised.

Well, where in all the movies did the rich people hide their safes? Behind paintings.

You crept inside casually, in case anyone was in there. You could fake needing to ask Ward or Rose a question if you had to, and you could play off Wheezie easily.

But, the room was empty.

You closed the door quietly behind you, locking it in hopes that if anyone tried to come in, you'd be able to escape or find a hiding spot before they could get in.

You beelined for the painting, wanting this to be as quick and quiet as possible.

Just as you suspected, the painting was on hinges and, when you pulled it open, there was the safe.

Okay. Step one, done. Now step two.

If you were Ward Cameron, what would your safe code be? A kid’s birthday surely, but which kid?

You dug through Ward's desk, trying to find a notebook with passwords, a scrap of paper with it written down, a calendar with birthdays in it, anything, but nada.

So, you had to venture down the stairs and hope there was something down there that would help you.

Peaking over the banister, you didn't see anyone, so you crept silently down. Praying no one would hear you.

It would be uber weird to ask Sarah what her birthday was if you ran into her and it's not like she was your biggest fan anyway.

"Hey."

You froze, hearing Topper's voice from somewhere to your right.

"Hey, how's John B? Is he- is he doin' all right?"

"Like you give a shit."

You let out a breath, realizing he was talking to Sarah.

Making sure to avoid that room, you crept on.

"You realize I did not push him. He lost his balance and fell."

"Don't lie."

You slid open drawers, digging through as quietly as possible for a key, a code, even a little cash.

"He fell against the rail. Not my fault."

"That is messed up."

You peaked in another office, finding Rose's checkbook on the desk. And damn it, a check would not work. They'd know.

And you couldn't forge the signature of somebody who's signature you'd never seen.

"You forget about us, like- midsummers was supposed to be our- our coming-out party. That was supposed to be something special, right?"

"What does it matter, Topper? We're in high school, it's not like we're getting married."

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, but the conversation was getting heated. And, since Topper already pushed John B. off a tower, you wanted to be able to step in if you thought he was going to do anything to her.

However cold she felt about you.

So, you hid in an adjacent room and listened.

"I don't care anymore, Topper. I can't be with you, not after last night."

"Oh, after last night? You wanna talk about last night?" Topper said. "Did you forget the part where you cheated on me? Huh? Did you forget about that? You're a slut! You know that? You're a slut!"

"Watch your mouth when you talk about my daughter!" You heard Ward shout, the words nearly shaking the wall between them and you.

"Your daughter's banging a Pogue-"

Your breath caught as Topper's sentence was cut off by choking noises. Was- was Ward choking Topper?

You held your breath as he forced Topper out, the sound of him starting his car and taking off breaking through the silence.

You were shaking, trying your best not to panic as you heard Sarah cry and Ward comfort her.

That wasn't just overprotectiveness. That was a pure kind of rage. Ward was a man who would kill to get what he wanted and do it without blinking an eye.

And Rafe-

Fuck. What had you gotten yourself into.

—

John B. was wondering the same thing after Kiara stormed out.

"It'll be cool, right?" Sarah said icily. "I'm gonna leave."

"Sarah, don't-"

"Let y'all chat."

"Hey, hey, Sarah," JJ said, catching up to her before she split. "Is um- have you seen Y/N? Is she okay, or?"

Sarah scoffed. "I don't know why your pogue friend has been fucking my brother, but feel free to tell her to stop," she bit and JJ backed off.

You- you were fucking Rafe?

—

Well, no, you weren't. Actually you were scrolling through your phone, trying to forget what happened earlier, when Rafe came back.

"Hey, stranger, why didn't you-" you stopped, noticing the look on his face as he leaned against the door. "Are you okay?"

He had a scared look on his face, a burn on his arm. The look in his eyes resembled the way JJ always looked after-

You remembered Ward from before. The image of his hands around Topper's neck.

You got up from the bed, walking over to him and putting your hands on his shoulders, making him look you in the eyes. It was a gesture you'd done with the pogue boys for forever. When something was bothering them, it got them to spill their guts.

Rafe, it seemed, was no different.

He told you everything. The money he owed, the watch he was going pawn, the look on his dad's face when he was caught.

They were going to get Barry the money tonight. And then it would be over.

But the way he looked told you he knew it wouldn't be over. That something was different this time.

You hugged him.

You hugged the classist asshole.

Fuck. Truly, what had you gotten yourself into.

Rafe sent you home long before him and Ward went to settle the debt.

But he made sure to text you afterwards and let you know what had happened. "Don't come home" were the words that rang in his ears.

And made your heart ache.

"I can't let you stay with me, I'm sorry," you said over the phone.

"That's fine, I got friends. I'll figure it out."

"Good to hear," you said, closing the door of your car and heading for the chateau.

An urgent text from John B. got to you this morning that said: WE DID IT. COME TO CHATEAU ASAP.

"Hey, I gotta go, talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied and you hung up.

"HEY YOU GUYS!" you shouted, quoting The Electric Company to draw your friends out of the woodwork.

They came out in surprising pairs. Sarah and Kiara jumped out of the Twinkie and Pope and John B. turned away from a machine they were wrenching on.

"Y/N!"

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"Long time no see, sister."

"Hey guys," you said with a laugh, accepting the hugs given and the pogue handshake from Pope. "Where's-"

"Nice of you to finally join us," JJ called from the porch. "Having too much fun with your new fuck buddy to see your friends?"

"Oh-kay, I think we should leave you two alone," John B. said, grabbing Pope by the shoulders, whistling and jerking his head towards the house to get the girls to follow.

JJ set down what was in his hands and headed towards you.

"Look, JJ-"

"No, you don't get to go first," he said. "I saved your ass. You saved mine. We were supposed to be even, squared out. But you just, what? Decided that Rafe Cameron was more interesting than us? He got a big dick or something, please enlighten me on why you've been gone all this time."

"JJ, I told you at midusmmers that we weren't square, okay? You have a price hanging over you-"

"So, you decided to ditch? We were looking for a way to settle that and you're galavanting at Tannyhill doing whoknowswhat or, well I guess we do know who you're doing-"

You slapped him. Clean across the face and loud.

Had you been within earshot, you would've heard the other pogues (who were spying on you through the front windows) gasp and let out a few "oh shit"s.

"You don't get to slutshame me for shit I didn't even do, all right?" You retorted. "Nothing happened between me and Rafe. Nothing."

"Yeah, well, somehow I don't believe that."

"Well, fuck you, JJ. I was doing this for you. I was going to steal from the Camerons to pay off your debt and if they found out-" you paused, a look flashing in your eyes. "But yeah, fine, I guess you already found the gold. And you're gonna pawn it right? Here in OBX? Like that isn't the stupidest thing you can do."

"What's the alternative? Wait for Rafe to kill his dad for you so you can get the inheritence? Hate to break it to you, Y/N, but your pussy probably isn't that good."

It was stupid. The whole argument was stupid but JJ was hurt and the idea of you with Rafe Cameron made his skin crawl.

"You know what, I don't need this. Have a nice life JJ and good luck with your restitution."

Regret flooded over him. "Y/N, wait-"

"No, JJ, sorry, you don't get to be forgiven that quick," You said, heading back to your car. "And for the record, Rafe Cameron has been nicer to me today than you have. And that's really fucking sad."

You slammed your door closed and started your car, taking off.

JJ watched you go. He knew he deserved it. He deserved every word you could've thrown his way, but watching you leave was worse than anything you could've said.

And what killed him even more was that he knew that he had driven you right into Rafe's arms.

He was at a country club with Topper and Kelce, Topper was licking his wounds and the boys were joking when you pulled up.

"Y/N, nice to see you again," Kelce said as you walked up.

"Yeah, nice to see you, too," you replied as Rafe walked up to you.

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

You pecked him on the lips, catching him off-guard.

"Just- wanted to see you, I guess."

He smiled. "Good enough for me. And now we got even numbers for bags, you know how to play?"

You laughed. "Do I know how to play? I'm a pogue, remember? Pretty sure we invented this game."

Rafe looked like he was about to lean in and kiss you, but something over your shoulder caught his attention instead.

"Rafe Cameron!"

You followed his gaze. "Is that-"

"Stay here." Rafe said, walking over to where Barry was talking with a member of the staff, Topper and Kelce following.

"Like hell," you replied, chasing after them.

"Why's your whole family think I'm some bitch that they can shit on, man?" Barry asked. "First your dad kneecaps me in my house."

"You got your money," Rafe insisted.

"That ain't the point," Barry continued. "I'm asking you, what am I? Am I just some little bitch? Is that what your family looks at me like?"

"No. No." Rafe said.

"No, no," Barry mocked. "Okay, so then why is your little sister and her little surf rat friends running around stealing 25K out of my house Can you tell me that?"

"They did what?" You asked, coming closer to the conversation.

"Y/N, stay back," Rafe said. "My little sister robbed you?"

"Yeah, Sarah robbed me. That's why I'm here."

"She won't pick a dollar up off the street. What are you talking about?" Rafe said.

"Do I look dumb? You think I don't understand what's goin' on here?" Barry said. "'Cause I'm telling you right now, you better sort this out with your sister, or else I am. 'Cause I want my money."

Worry was building in your chest. You leave for one afternoon and suddenly the pogues had gotten themselves into a heap of trouble.

"Listen, I don't know what you're talking about," Rafe said. "Enlighten me."

"Enlighten you?" Barry said. "So, the pogues are all around Outer Banks stealin' shit out of everybody's house and you got no idea what I'm talking about? Your sister's involved in it."

"Sarah Cameron, home invader," Rafe said, disbelief evident in his voice. "You know how stupid-"

Barry threw Rafe off him, yelling angrily in his face. "That's 25K!"

Topper got in the middle, but just because he could take John B. doesn't mean he could take Barry.

"Sort this shit out with your sister," Barry demanded. "Imma get my money."

"Yes, of course," Rafe said.

"If it's not from you, it's from her. Remember that. I'll see you boys around."

Barry left, leaving you and Topper to hash things out with Rafe.

"What are you gonna do?" Topper asked.

"Nothing, it's not my problem," Rafe said.

"Rafe, that's your sister. Those are my friends!" you said.

"What are you gonna do?" Topper asked again.

Rafe spared a glance at you before making a decision. "All right, come on."

They got on their bikes and you got on behind Rafe. He handed you a spare helmet.

"You just keep this on hand?"

"Well, maybe I was hoping a certain someone would come riding with me soon," he replied.

You bit your lip and pulled the helmet on, then held his waist as he sped off in search of the pogues.

Worry and anger ate at you. They just had the gold and now they'd gotten themselves in trouble with a drug dealer? Where had it gone south? What stupid thing had they done?

This had JJ written all over it.

The thought left a bitter taste in your mouth but it was true.

He always did something wreckless after a fight with one of his friends.

After your first fight, he went cliff diving during a thunderstorm and the pogues had to rescue him from nearly drowning.

Nothing with more consequences than his own safety, but the pogues had gotten mixed up in something bigger than themselves this time. And a sinking pit in your stomach told you it might just get somebody killed for real.

John B. and Sarah were just cruising in the twinkie when you found them, Rafe recklessly cutting them off and causing John B. to hit the breaks before they hit him and you on the bike.

"Shit. No, no, no, no. John B.," Sarah said before her boyfriend could get the door open. "Let me handle him."

John B. watched as you took off your helmet, the look on your face more pissed than he'd ever seen you.

"And I'll hand her," he muttered.

You stormed up to the van. "Where's JJ? Is he in there?"

"He's not here, Y/N."

"What did he do? Were you there? Do you know he robbed a drug dealer?"

Another bike sped up towards you and John B. got out of the van to meet him.

"Don't ignore me, John B.!" You shouted.

"Come to try to kill me again, Top?" He asked, ignoring you.

You were fuming. Caught between arguments and not in any them. You wanted to shout, scream, punch, cry, but no one was giving you the opportunity.

"One day, I'm gonna be running the show, Sarah, and you're gonna wish that you were nicer to me then," Rafe said.

"Why don't you give me a save-the-date on that?" Sarah retorted. "You psycho."

Sarah shoulder checked you as she passed. "Nice to see you went crawling back to him, Y/N."

You glared. "Yeah, well, you guys didn't exactly give me much of a choice, huh?"

"Let's go, Y/N," Rafe said, tossing you your helmet and then putting on his own.

You looked back, giving John B. one last angry look before sitting behind Rafe and letting him take off.

"Well, that went well," John B. said, watching you go.

You'd been hanging around Rafe pretty much all after that. Dipping out of the pogues story for a while. Maybe forever. You weren't sure how you felt right now, besides betrayed and hurt.

Right now, Rafe was the only thing holding you together.

That and weed.

"Rafe!" Wheezie called out, causing you to choke on the hit you were taking. "And Y/N. Great."

"Wheeze, you don't need to be around this-"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone," she said, dropping her bag down.

"Uh, you want some or-"

"Rafe!" you protested.

"What?"

"She's thirteen!"

He gestured wildly like 'I don't know!'

"This crib is sweet," Wheezie said. "How'd you get the Gleason's to let you crash here?"

"Uh- I didn't tell them is how," he replied.

"Pogue trick," you joked, flashing her a peace sign.

"Keep a lid on it, please," Rafe asked.

"Only if you let me crash here whenever I want," Wheezie replied.

"They try and kick you out, too?"

"Worse," she replied. "I'm officially the least favorite daughter. Sarah and dad are going to the Bahamas and did they invite me? Nope."

"Bullshit," you said with a shake of your head.

It seemed like regular rich people shit to you, but it seeemed to catch Rafe's attention. "Wait, they're going to the Bahama house? In summer?"

"Yeah."

"You guys don't do that often?" you asked.

"Nah, usually only when it gets cold," Wheezie said. "But according to Rose 'it's business'."

You raised an eyebrow at Rafe's change in behavior.

"I mean, they're all up in some new development, and for some super-secret reason, they're going to the Bahamas," Wheezie said.

Rafe leaned forward. "You know, I- I know about, like… a billion times more about the business than she does. What- what is this?"

He stood up, hands running through his hair.

"We're the black sheep. Get used to it, Rafe," Wheezie said. "Baa."

"Shut up, okay?" Rafe said, becoming increasingly unravelled.

"Baa."

"Hey, shut up!" Rafe moves forward, grabbing his sister by the wrist. "Wheezie, I told you to shut up, okay?"

You moved then, standing between the two. "Rafe. You're high. Back off."

Wheezie moved around you and tossed a pile off cash at him "My life savings."

He dropped down to scoop it up.

You frowned. "Did he ask you for money?"

Wheezie shruggged.

"I'll pay her back," he said. "I know this looks really bad right now and everything, but like, I'm gonna- I'm gonna my shit together, okay?"

You wanted to believe him, but something about just now...

"I'm gonna get it tight, like, you know..." Rafe said, banging his fist on the table a few times. "Like, real tight. You'll see."

"Yeah..." you replied, turning to Wheezie. "Why don't you go look around? The Gleason's have some pretty cool shit."

Wheezie shurgged again, but took your suggestion and went inside.

"Okay, what the hell is going on with you?" you asked.

"She's taking my place!" Rafe shouted. "Perfect princess Sarah. I screw up one time and- and all that I've worked for! That's supposed to be mine!"

He threw everything on the table off of it, glass shattering around you.

"He can't do this! He kicks me out just to- just to give everything to her! She always gets everything!"

He paused, a crazed look in his eye. "But not this time."

He started backing up, heading towards the stairs. "Not this time!"

"Rafe!" You called after him, chasing him down the stairs. "Rafe wait!"

You ran up, grabbing his arm before he could get on his bike and he flung back and hit you.

You tumbled to the ground, hand on your face.

He stopped. "Oh my god, I didn’t mean- Y/N, you know I didn't mean to-"

He reached down to help you but you pushed him off.

"Don't touch me! Don't-" there were tears in your eyes and blood coming from your nose. "I thought you weren't but you're just like your dad, aren't you?"

He didn't respond, just stared at you.

"Aren't you?!" you yelled.

He took a few steps back and grabbed his bike. "Yeah. Yeah I am."

Then he was gone. Speeding off on that damn bike.

Call it anger, call it intuition, but you jumped in your car and followed him. All the way to the airstrip until your car couldn't follow any more. Then you stopped and bailed from your car, running after him at a much slower pace.

When you finally caught up-

Was that John B.? And Peterkin? Why was she on the ground-?

It registered quickly: the gun in Rafe's hand, Sarah's sobbing, the pressure John B. was putting on Peterkin's chest.

"Oh my god," you said before running out there. "John B.!"

He looked up. "Y/N! Call 911!"

Rafe immediately turned the gun towards you, making you freeze.

"Don't!" Ward stepped between the gun and you. "Rafe, I've got the radio, nobody else needs to get hurt, put the gun down."

He looked at you. "I can count on you not to do anything reckless here, right Y/N?"

You shakily put your phone back in your pocket.

"Good girl."

John B. stood up, making eye contact with you before backing towards the twinkie.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?" Rafe shouted as Ward held him back.

And John B. took off in a dead sprint towards the grass, you followed around the other way while the Camerons collided with each other.

Gunshots went off and you screamed, booking it towards John B. as fast as your legs would carry you. Through the trees and brush and dirt until John B. made it to the road-

And got hit by a car.

"Shit!" You shouted, slowing down enough to help him up and, much to the confusion of the driver, kept running.

"Where are we going?" You asked.

"Find the pogues," he replied.

By the time you did, well, you let John B. be the one to step out first.

"Dude! Dude, you good?" JJ said.

"Oh, my God! John B!" Kiara said.

They took him in, not seeing you at first.

"Is this yours?"

"Whose blood is that?"

"Y/N?" JJ said.

Sirens whirled behind you and you all ducked into the shed the pogues had been squatting in.

So. Turns out you missed a lot.

First off, Ward killed John B.'s father. John B. went on a tirade. Sarah didn't believe John B. The Camerons have the gold. Pope split from his interview.

And you were a traitor.

You'd left them because you were pissed and you actually thought Rafe Cameron had a heart.

And now, after Peterkin was dead, you're realizing you should've known all along.

"Hey, is that- do you have a bruise around your eye?" JJ asked later, when John B. had gone into the police station to tell them what had happened.

"Oh," you said, reaching up to feel it and wincing. "Yeah, I guess I do. Can thank good old Rafe Cameron for that one."

"He hit you?" JJ said. "No. Fuck that. I'll find his punk ass-"

"JJ," you said, grabbing his wrist. "Not now. Please."

He relented and sat down.

"I think I owe you guys an aplogy. I was so dumb for thinking Rafe was a good guy and I was just so mad. I missed out on this whole adventure..." you said.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Pope said. "Hasn't been all that great, to be honest."

You laughed lightly. "Thanks, Pope, appreciate that... Kie?"

Kiara sighed from the front seat. "I think I'm done holding grudges. Especially now." She turned in her seat to look at you. "And especially not to you."

You smiled at her.

"Kie, start the car!"

You all snapped to look at John B. running out of the station.

"Start the car!"

Chaos broke loose as Kie flooored it forward, two cops chasing after you, everyone shouting over each other until-

Silence.

The cops dropped off and John B. was breathing heavily.

"They think I did it," he said. "They think I killed Peterkin."

—

There was no going home for anyone and you couldn't exactly go to the chateau, the first place they'd look, or anywhere familiar.

So, you hid.

Laying low in Kie's car with no other options, the radio turned to a news station in a vein hope that they might say something helpful.

Pope was nessled in the front seat, Kie in the drivers, which left you in the back, sandwiched between JJ and John B. Head on JB's shoulder and leg over JJ's leg.

The sound of JJ's lighter flicking open and closed was only interrupted by the occasional police sirens that, thankfully, wizzed right by. As for the radio-

"Still no arrest in the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-"

Kiara switched it off.

"Let's game this out," JJ said. "Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but-" he let out a breath - "who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us?"

It didn't need to be said. You wouldn't be hiding right now if there was any hope the cops were on your side, but JJ, being JJ, felt the need to say what everyone was thinking.

"So, the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person. And the accused...is John B...who is pretty much a homeless 16-year-old boy at the moment..."

You sighed against John B's shoulder and kicked JJ's leg with your foot.

"What? I'm not wrong."

"Thanks," John B. replied, sarcastically.

"Shit." Pope said from the front.

"Look, man, Yucatan, all right?" JJ said, talking to John B. over your head. "I'm saying that's the only option. What other option do you have?"

"Enough with the Mexico bullshit, all right?" John B. retorted. "Sarah's gonna bail me out."

"I mean she did witness the whole thing," Kiara said.

"Thank you," John B. said.

"And she's gonna snitch on her brother?" Pope asked.

As if the mere mention of Rafe, not even by name, set him off, JJ puffed his joint and continued on his tirade. "Not happening, bro, okay? We need to get you off the island."

"The ferry," Pope said. "It's the only way."

"Yeah, exit stage left while you still can, before the entire island is on lockdown."

As if on cue, more sirens approached.

The five of you ducked down again, slinking as far into your seats as you could go.

You half wished yours would just swallow you whole, put you out of your misery.

"Sarah's not a pogue, John B.," Pope said.

"Yeah. You can't stay here, man," JJ said.

John B. seemed less inclined to speak, so you snuggled further into him and he squeezed your arm.

The two of you were closer to other pogues, but after this, you might just start leaning on each other a little more.

Hell, if John B. was leaving the island, you wanted to go with him. JJ would probably tag along, too, lord knows he needs an excuse to get outta dodge.

It would be just the three of you, hitch hiking until you found somewhere to be. A beach in Florida maybe, Puerto Rico, even. Change your names, get jobs, settle down. It wouldn't be so bad.

Just had to get on the ferry.

"Okay, so, ferry's closed."

Or not.

"And there's this," Pope said, handing a piece of paper to Kiara through the window.

A wanted poster.

It was a fucking wanted poster.

You didn't even know they made those anymore.

"Okay, so the whole island's looking for John B. right now," Pope said.

"That's a lot of money," Kiara said.

"Congrats, John B., you're famous," you said, bitterly, as you passed him the poster.

"We got to get to the HMS," Kiara said. "It's small, no running lights-"

"Its at the chateau, Kie," John B. replied.

"And I wonder if the cops got the entire place staked out, let me think," JJ said. "Oh, yeah, no they definitely have that place locked down."

"Yeah, copy that."

"Let me think, just give me a second," Pope said, hands on the steering wheel, eyes closed as he scrambled through his thoughts. "JJ."

"What?"

Pope turned around in his seat. "Does your dad still have that boat? The cigarette boat, The Phantom? The one he used to race."

"Maybe..."

"You could get right up the coast, no problem," Pope said.

And, as is common for the pogues, when a solution presents itself, it all goes to shit.

Chaos broke out, Pope unintentionally getting the attention of everyone around the ferry. And, of course, the car was stalling out.

John B. was hiding his face and the rest of you were yelling frantically at Pope as he turned the ignition. And once it went, he hit a car. And alerted the cops.

Great.

Who let Pope drive, again?

He slammed on the breaks and you nearly went tumbling into the front with him and Kie.

"Shit, Pope,"

"John B., get out."

"He's right," JJ said. "We'll draw the cops, you run."

"Where's he supposed to go?"

"What's the alternative, Y/N?"

You bit your lip. "Okay, go John B., run."

He popped the door and hefted himself out as JJ said, "I'll get the rig and meet you in the dump tomorrow. Three o'clock, okay?"

John B. bailed, slamming the door behind him and Pope floored it, driving the cops away from John B. as quick as was reasonble.

Meanwhile, Rafe was rummaging through John B.'s stuff.

"What're you doing?" Wheezie asked.

"Getting rid of this crap," Rafe replied, too calmly for someone who'd committed murder hardly hours before.

"That's John B.'s," Wheezie said.

"Yeah, well, I don't think he's gonna be by anytime soon to pick it up, so..."

"Why?"

"Did you say why?"

Wheezie nodded, innocently.

The image of you running off with John B. flashed through his head. The horror in your eyes when he pointed the gun at you. Why had he done that?

"They didn't tell you?"

"Nobody tells me anything."

"Um...so John B.," Rafe considered it for a moment. The lie bitter on his tongue...but he said it anyway. "Killed Sheriff Peterkin."

But Wheezie wasn't dumb. The disbelief was evident in her voice when she said, "What?"

"Are you smiling right now?" Rafe asked. "I'm not joking, like this isn't a game. I dont" - he smacked the post of the bed - "I don't know why you're smiling, okay? Look at me."

He leaned down close to Wheezie. "I saw it with my own two eyes, all right?"

Lie.

"He shot her. And then do you know what he did?"

He was spiraling.

"He tried to shoot dad, but I stepped in, and I stopped him, right?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. "I saved his life."

"Why would John B. wanna kill dad?"

Rafe shrugged his shoulders before saying the only honest thing he had this whole conversation. "He thinks dad killed his father."

The cogs turned in Wheezie's head. "He wants vengence."

Rafe shouldered John B.'s bag. "Yeah, he's...he's a maniac. And Sarah's been hanging out with him."

He turned to go when Wheezie said, "But what about Y/N?"

That got him to stop in his tracks. "What?"

"Y/N hangs out with John B. She wouldn't if he was a maniac...right?"

Rafe licked his lips. "Well, uh...sometimes you think you know people. And you don't."

—

"Pope you clocked that car, man, it was so bad!" JJ said, laughing.

You had your feet danging over the back seat, the light outside beginning to turn blue, bathing everything in a twilight haze.

"Pull over!" Kiara demanded.

Pope, smartly, did as he was told, albeit a little more wrecklessly that he would have had he not been high.

"JJ's it's not funny," Kiara said. "He shouldn't be driving."

She slammed the door closed and JJ made eye contact with you.

You grinned. "It's a little funny."

He smiled back, handing you his blunt, and it was almost as if nothing had changed.

"Where're we going?" he asked.

"The last place they're gonna look," Kiara replied.

—

"Last place they're gonna look because of how stupid it is." JJ said as Kie and Pope scaled the Camerons' wall.

"I second that," you said, slinking down in your seat.

"You guys just stay here, okay?" Kie said before dropping out of sight.

Then, it was silent.

The tension between you and JJ grew thick.

"How's your eye?" JJ asked.

"Huh? Oh..." you reached up to feel the bruise. "To be honest, I forgot about it."

Another beat of silence.

"I think I owe you an apology," you said. "I shouldn't have gone back to Rafe. I knew who he was, but I still held on to some naive belief. And now this."

You put your head in your hands, wondering if you could have changed this somehow.

"Hey," JJ said, lifting your head up. "You just see the best in people, all right? You always have. Even in me. I said some pretty awful things to you, and I'm sorry for that. I guess I was just jealous."

You looked at him. "Jealous?"

He wouldn't meet your eye. "Yeah. The idea of you being with Rafe... it bothered me, all right? And not just cause he's him...cause you're you."

You smiled softly. "Well, I was telling you the truth when I said we didn't sleep together...but we did kiss...once."

"Oh."

You chewed on your lip, thinking over your next words. "But I was, uh...I was thinking about you when it happened."

This seemed to get JJ's attention. "You were?"

You chuckled. "Yeah. It felt so weird and I wasn't sure at the time why but," - you looked at him - "I think it's because I really like you JJ. And not in the friend kind of way."

JJ split into a grin that could've lit the highway. "Really?"

"Really."

You both leaned forward, a kiss inevitable, but then the doors opened and you were interupted by Kie and Pope piling back into the car.

"Where's Sarah?" you asked.

Kie just shook her head. "Plan failed."

"Okay, so what's plan B?"

Plan B, it turned out, was sleeping at the wreck.

Kiara curled up on a bench and Pope resting his head against some napkins. You and JJ opted for the floor, staring up at the ceiling and just playing with each others' hands until one of you fell asleep.

Which, must've been you because before you knew it, the sun was up and JJ was flicking his lighter open and closed anxiously.

"He's pinched fore sure," he said.

"No," Pope replied. "They wouldn't still be patrolling if they caught him."

"Let's hope."

"You know, we were in that car, they're porbably looking for us, too," Kie said.

You knicked the lighter from JJ's hand, flicking it open and closed. "Yeah, the Camerons are probably tearing their hair out that they can't keep me locked down like Sarah."

JJ reached for his lighter and you held it out of his reach behind your back, he chased it and you dodged. A silly game in the middle of everything.

"Well, if we're gonna be outlaws, we might as well help John B.," Pope said.

JJ got hold of the lighter finally, pushing you lightly. "So, find him before they do?"

Pope grabbed the keys to the dirtbike.

"Pope?"

"I'm gonna get gas for the boat," he said.

"Hey, you be careful," Kiara said. "Okay?"

"Meet me at the dock at three," Pope said to JJ, ignoring Kie. "Don't be late."

JJ and you exchanged a look as Kiara took off after him.

The tension between you and JJ seemed to have morphed into tension between Pope and Kie.

"You know what that's about?" you asked JJ.

He shrugged. "Whatever it is, it's not helping."

--

When Kiara pulled up to the Maybank residence, it was like all the joy got sucked out of the air.

You'd been there before, a few times, helping out JJ with whatever, usually sneaking in through his window if his dad was around.

You got caught once and...well, let's just say you haven't been back since.

"Home sweet home." JJ said, bitterly.

"Hey," you leaned up from the back seat. "Do you want me to come? You know I will."

"Same here," Kiara said.

JJ shook his head. "No. This'll only take a second."

He jumped out and gave one last look to the two of you before heading inside.

"So..." Kiara started. "You and JJ, now?"

"I guess so," you replied. "Is it weird?"

She shrugged. "I mean...a little, but I think we were all waiting for it to happen."

"Really?"

"Yeah...you should've seen the way he was spiraling out without you. Plus his dad..."

You pulled your knees up to your chest, eyes trained on the house. "I never should've left. I never should've let him take the fall for me."

"Well, you know JJ. If he had to do it again, he wouldn't change a thing."

The screen door threw open and he came through it, distress evident on his face.

Kiara started the car.

"How'd it go?" She asked, tentatively.

JJ held up the keys, tangled in a silver chain around his fingers.

Mission accomplished.

At what cost?

Kiara drove off and you reached out, taking JJ's hand and squeezing it.

He squeezed back, but said nothing.

It was a frantic sort of day. One misstep and the whole plan unwravels and John B. gets hauled in for something he didn't do. Something none of you could save him from if it happened.

"It'll be fine," JJ said, more to himself than to you or Kiara. "It'll be fine with the Phantom. She'll get out of here quick."

A few police cars went rushing by, you and JJ ducked your heads but Kiara kept driving calmly.

"They're still looking," she said. "That's a good sign."

She kept driving, theoretically away from the danger.

Until you caught Rafe's eye through the window.

Shit.

He was with Barry, who was still out for blood, no doubt. And Rafe's head was no where near on tight.

"Shit, shit, shit, Kie!"

The dirtbike engines revved.

"Kie you gotta go faster!"

"What? Why?"

"Because Rafe and Barry are on our asses, all right?"

"What?"

Her and JJ both turned around to look, the red bikes easy to spot.

"Fucking Rafe Cameron man," JJ said, smacking the dashboard as Kiara sped up. "Always showing up at the worst times."

Kiara sped up as fast as she reasonably could and they faded back.

"God, please, don't follow us..." you muttered, wishing on wishing.

JJ reached back, squeezing your forearm. "Just focus on the mission, baby, okay? We got this."

Baby? That was new...but not unwanted.

It distracted you long enough for you to reach the warehouse where the Phantom was.

JJ pushed open the door and salivated immediately. "There she be."

You and Kiara surveyed the boat and exchanged a look. Oh boy.

"A 1983 Formula 402 SR1," JJ said. "The Phantom."

He looked back at you guys and Kiara shrugged.

"The first boay to make the run to Bermuda in under 16 hours, Kie," JJ said, running his hand along the boat. "Forty years old! Forty...and still the fastest thing that Kildaire's ever seen."

"It's kind of a junker," Kiara replied.

JJ looked almost offended. "Really? She's right there, Kie. She can hear you."

"I'm starting to wonder which of us you're really into," you joked.

"Let's just put it this way," JJ said. "You would not be smoking weed right now if she never existed, okay?"

"I just hope it runs," you replied as JJ snaked an arm around your waist.

"Oh, she'll run all right. She's faster than any cutters the boys in blue got."

The screeching of tires got your attention and Kiara jumped over the hitch. "Pope! Finally..."

"Hey, there."

Your stomach sank and your eyes went wide, seperating from JJ immediately.

Rafe's eyes bore holes in your skill. "What's going on, JJ?"

Kiara back tracked as Rafe climbed onto the Phantom. "How byou guys doin'?"

Barry whistled, coming around the other side of JJ, who stepped in front of you protectively.

"Well, well," he said.

Rafe jumped back down and the three of you were truly surrounded as Barry pulled a pistol on JJ.

"See, don't think I forgot about me and you on the side of the road," Barry said. "See, I'm here because I want my motherfucking money!"

Barry rushed him, smacking JJ in the face and you screamed for him, but Rafe's arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you back.

Kiara went to help, but got a pistol smacked against her face for her troubles.

"Kie!" You shouted. "Rafe let me go! Let me fucking go!"

He tossed you down. "I think it's time you and I had another chat."

Kiara pushed herself between you. "Don't even think about touching her again."

Rafe huffed through his nose. "It's not you we want, Kie. Just her. Her and John B. Where is he, Y/N? I saw you run off with him, where is he?"

He tried to move towards you but Kiara slapped him in the face.

"I really wish you didn't do that," Rafe said.

"Stay down, boy," Barry said, kicking at JJ with his foot.

"JJ!" you shouted, trying to go for him but Rafe intercepted you again.

"We know what you did!" Kiara said.

This got him to pause, dropping you. "Oh yeah? What did I do?"

You crawled across the floor to JJ.

"You murdered Peterkin!"

"Nah, nah, stay back, girl," Barry said, pulling you up by your hair.

"Y/N!" JJ said, strangled but he got up and started going towards Barry, who tossed you aside and starting beating on JJ again.

You hit the floor hard.

"You're gonna wish you didn't say that," Rafe said.

You caught sight of them, Kiara's neck in Rafe's hand.

The terrible image of Ward flashed in your mind again and you were frozen, terrified.

"Where's John B.?" Rafe shouted in Kie's face, tightening his hold every time she said she didn't know.

THWACK.

Pope laid into Rafe with a tire iron, smacking him across the back and arm. "Don't touch her!"

It didn't last long. Rafe was fighting back almost immediately, but Pope had gained confidence and anger and punched back without hesitation.

"Rafe!" Barry said, moving off JJ to help Rafe.

JJ took this opportunity to trip him and the pistol went tumbling out of Barry's hand.

"Y/N! Kick it!" JJ said.

You did as instructed, kicking the small gun as far and as hard as you could.

JJ intercepted Barry as you stumbled back towards Kie.

"Are you okay?" you asked her.

She was rubbing her neck but nodded. "Pope!"

Barry was down but Pope was still wailing on Rafe.

"Pope, he's had enough, man!" JJ tried, but something inside Pope had snapped.

"Pope, stop!" you shouted as Pope wrapped a hose around Rafe's neck.

"Pope that's too much!"

"Stop, dude!"

JJ wrapped his arms around Pope's shoulders. "Dude, come on, stop, dude, stop!"

"Pope get off of him!"

There was blood all across Rafe's face, but his eyes stayed trained on you as you stood there helplessly.

You should've hated him. Should've thought this was what he deserved. But the fear that gripped your insides at the thought of him dying, of him being killed by one of your best friends.

It was too much.

"Look at me!" Kiara shouted.

And Pope let go.

Rafe went tumbling to the ground and you instinctively went after him.

Rafe coughed and checked him, asking if he was okay. He didn't reply, trying to catch his breath without choking on blood.

"We gotta go." Kie said. "We gotta go."

She headed towards the car, JJ following reluctantly.

Pope was fuming. "Stay off the cut."

You'd never been scared of Pope before, but in that moment, the rage in his eyes was one of the scariest things you'd ever seen.

You looked back at Rafe as Pope followed the other two.

He was breathing heavily, the blood glittering against his face.

"Y/N, come on!"

You moved to get up but Rafe's hand grabbed your arm, making you look back at him.

"Please-" he choked out.

You shook your head. "Deal's done. You were supposed to lay off."

With that you pulled out of his grip and jogged to the car, shoving yourself in the back seat with JJ.

You curled in on yourself again, knees to your chest.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," JJ said, leaning against the window.

"Is it, though?" you said.

It was just karma, right? It was all...karma.

JJ reached for your hand and you let him take it, but neither of you faced each other.

This night was far from over. There was too much left.

But the deal was off. Pope got his revenge. And you and JJ had each other again.

This chapter...was over.

[wardenparker]

The Stars Re-Align, part 2

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, of-age teenage sexuality, flashback, abusive relationship, domestic abuse, slaps to the face, verbal abuse. Summary: A trip down memory lane brings a conversation full of honesty with your daughter. Frankie frets about the future with Will. And then the world turns upside down all over again. (This chapter begins with a flash back). Notes: Rated E for an Explicit portrayal of an abusive relationship. Even if the on-page violence is minimal, it still deserves to be tagged.

“What time are your parents getting home?” The most frequently asked question you and Frankie have for each other these days, as you decide where to hang out after school and what hanging out will actually consist of.

Frankie smirks and shrugs slightly, eyes dark and full of promise as he slides them up and down your body. “Don’t know.” He admits. “Late. They said something about bowling after Dad got off work.”

The subway is packed full but somehow Frankie still manages to get impressively closer to you as the stops roll by. “Your place, then,” your head bobs in agreement while you try to think a little with his hands on you. Two more stops.

“My place.” He leans in, nuzzling your neck and dropping a kiss on your thready pulse. Grinning when it jumps against his lips.

“I’ll—” It’s all you can do not to gasp any time Frankie kisses you, and you’re in public. “I’ll call my Mom from your phone. Let her know.”

“Tell her you’re staying the night.” He encourages, knowing that he won’t want to let you go home. You live two stops from him and it’s close enough to swing by and have you get dressed in the morning. Or you can wear his clothes. He doesn’t mind that at all.

“It’s a good thing she likes you,” you huff, but again the sound turns into a swallowed moan when he touches you. “I’ll tell her.”

“Good.” Frankie loves how you melt for him. It’s something he takes pride in, aware that you do talk to your friends about your relationship, and that you only have good things to say.

"Not gonna let me study at all, are you?" It's a half-hearted gripe, although you both do have homework to do. Senior year is starting out better than you could possibly imagine and college applications will go out soon. Everything is just as perfect as you could possibly want.

“I bet you that you’ll get an A after our study session.” He chuckles in your ear. “Every prep test you get right, you get an orgasm.”

"Frankie." The little whine only spurs him on. If not for the train jolting to a stop and the hustling bustle of people moving all around you, he'd probably slip his hand under your clothes right there on the train.

“What?” He gives you an innocent look. “You know I’m good for them.”

"I know you are," you huff as he moves you off the train and onto the platform along with the masses. "That's why I'm whining."

“So you’re going to be a good girl and get every answer right, aren’t you?” It’s become a game to him, to see how often he can turn you on in public and he loves how responsive you are. His baggy pants hiding his hard cock from the public as he teases you.

"I would get every answer right anyway." It's another huff, but it's good natured. Mostly just the fact that he's so damn good at getting you all riled up no matter where you are.

“I know, my girl is smart.” He hums, guiding you towards the stairs. “Sexy, sweet, nice ass…shit that’s not an ‘s’ word.” He huffs playfully, just wanting to hear you laugh.

It works, because of course it does, and the sound bubbles out of you as you hustle up the stairs to street level with Frankie right behind you. The extra sway in your hips is just for him, but if someone else notices you couldn't care less. At times like this your world is just narrowed down completely and entirely to Frankie.

Friends for years, Frankie had finally gathered the courage to ask you out in middle school, elated when you said yes. There hadn’t been the drama others had, no huge fights and breaking up only to get back together, the two of you had been steady. He had tried to brush off all the jokes about getting married straight out of school and you popping out six kids right away. You both had plans that didn’t include kids for a few years. At least until after he was a higher rank in the Army. “Shake that ass, baby!” He calls out, whistling in a catcall.

If you were any version of yourself except a teenager desperately in love, you might have huffed at him or made a face, but in this moment you just giggle and throw even more sway into your movements until you’re all the way at the top of the stairs and waiting for him to join you.

“Goddamn.” Staring at your ass, Frankie nearly trips over his own feet on the stairs, catching himself and grinning when you giggle at him again.

“If we don’t get you home in one piece, you don’t get to have any fun,” you remind him, clicking your tongue teasingly.

“Ass.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

"Didn't you just point out how much you love my ass?" The playful retort comes with a kiss to his cheek, and you grab his hand to head for his apartment.

Like others in the building, the apartment had been the Morales family home for years. Making the habit of pulling out his keys and unlocking the door almost automatic. It’s a long-ingrained motion.

“Any sign of siblings?” Before you sling down your backpack on Frankie’s desk chair, you bite your lip and look around curiously for his brother and sister.

"Nope." Frankie doesn't see any of the tell-tale signs of the younger ones being around. He would be tripping over their damn shoes around the door.

“Thank goodness.” The less time you have to spend being social, the more time you and Frankie have to yourselves, and you grab him by the wrist to pull him down the hall to his bedroom.

"Eager to study, already?" Frankie laughs as he lets you drag him away from the living area.

“We can study while other people are home.” You throw a pout at him over your shoulder. “Or do you not want to try what I learned from the copy of Cosmopolitan that Shelly Estrada stole from her mother?”

“What was in it?” He’s always interested in what you learn from those magazines.

“Something we absolutely could not hide under a blanket.” Giggling a bit, you bite your lip and toss your backpack down in his room at the end of the hall just in time for his arms to come around you. “And involves me being on top of you, which I know you love.”

His brow wings up and he grins instantly, always loving when you are bouncing on his cock. “But we had fucked with you on top under the blanket.”

“I know.” Your eyes flash with mischief as your boyfriend practically slams his bedroom door shut. “This is different.”

The click of the lock is loud, securing you inside and keeping out the rest of the world through the action. “Tell me.”

“You get on your back.” One of his favorite views of you is from his back so that isn’t a hard sell. “But when I get on top of you, it’s flipped. So you can eat me out while I suck your cock.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, eyes widening in absolute delight as he quickly reaches for his shirt to pull it off. He loves using his tongue on you and enjoys the very boastful reputation you have given him by bragging to your friends. “I’ve seen it in a porno.” He admits, nodding in agreement. “Fuck, take your clothes off baby.”

“Boys have pornos and girls have Cosmo,” you tease, already pulling your t-shirt over your head.

“Girls can watch porno too.” Frankie snorts. “Bet it would turn you on and give you ideas.”

“Girls can watch porno too.” Toeing off your shoes and pulling off your socks lets you strip your jeans off too, and you stand unafraid and unapologetic in your underwear in front of Frankie. “But where would I get it?”

“Watch it with me.” He groans, pushing down his own jeans and underwear so his hard cock springs out and bobs in the air. “Sit on my dick while you watch another girl get fucked.”

“Next time,” you promise him, though it’s a little breathless as your mouth waters at the sight of him and you pull your bra and panties off as fast as humanly possible. “I want to try this first.”

"I want to try it too, baby." He is always eager to try new things, positions, everything with you. He had cum so quickly the first time he slid inside you. Embarrassed, but you hadn't blamed him for it. Now, he was proud of the fact that you were cumming before him, completely boneless as he fucks you into the bed of his childhood bedroom every chance he gets. You are his everything.

******

Sitting home alone last night was probably a bad idea, but you hadn’t wanted to wreck Rachel’s night. Instead you barely slept — crying intermittently and picking at the remains of your birthday cake with a seemingly endless margarita in your hand while you watched rom-coms and thought about Frankie. Just because Santiago was probably right to end things didn’t make it easier.

Now you’re hungover with your face bowed over a cup of coffee and trying to lecture yourself into making breakfast while you try to figure out what the fuck to do with yourself today.

There’s an extreme sense of guilt that has settled over Frankie’s shoulders. He had – unknowingly – crashed your party and ruined things for you. And changed his entire life in the process. Another child. A grown ass woman who was half his. He hadn’t told Marie, couldn’t even find the words, although he had scooped up his precious little girl and held her close, locking himself into the nursery with her.

As if you were feeling some of those vibes beat out to you across towns, you abandon the thought of breakfast for now in favor of going upstairs to dig out your oldest Memory Box. The box full of keepsakes and memories all pertaining to Frankie. Not the one that contains all of the pregnancy-related things that you’d shown Rachel multiple times in her life, but the secret one you keep tucked in the back of your closet that has things like ticket stubs to the movies and concerts you went to together or the endless Polaroids you took on every occasion. That box. That is the one you bring back downstairs to wallow in at the dining room table.

******

“I don’t think I need to leave Mom alone today.” Rachel tells Benny, sighing softly and reaching for his hand. “This doesn’t make things weird, does it?” She’s asking yet again, but she needs the reassurance.

“We’ll adjust, baby.” He promises her. She needs the comfort of hearing it again and, to Benny’s surprise, each time he says it he means it that much more.

“I didn’t know. I feel like I should have.” She confesses quietly.

“How?” That still doesn’t make sense to him. There is no way she could have known just based on instinct. “Absolutely nobody thought this was gonna happen, baby girl. And it doesn’t change how much I love you.”

“I know, I just—” she clings to his hand and sighs. “I’ve always had this fantasy of my dad coming back and finding us.” She admits quietly. “And now…I don’t know what to do.”

“Frankie’s a good guy.” Benny huffs, knowing that sounds lame. “He’s been through so much. Saved our skins way more times than I can count. And the way he is with Luna? Baby, I know it isn’t what you imagined, but give Fish a chance. You might be surprised to find out that your Dad is just a normal guy who will do right by you.”

“I feel guilty.” She huffs. “Santiago is a good guy too. And yet…” she shrugs slightly. “If you had asked me yesterday if he was someone I would want my mom to be with long term, I would have said yes.” She glances away. “Now…”

Benny’s brow furrows, seeing the guilt on her face for even thinking it. “You wish your parents could be together?” He guesses, soothing one hand over her back.

“Is that wrong?” She asks softly. “If he’s the man you say he is….my mom deserves to be happy.”

“Of course it’s not wrong,” Benny shakes his head. “But…it’s up to them.”

“Yeah.” She sighs softly and smiles at Ben. “Do you want to come in? Or do you want to run for the hills for right now?”

“If you want me to come in, I will.” In no way does he want to give her the impression he’s making a run for it, but he also doesn’t think it’s his place to be in there right now, either. “What if I drop you off now so you can have some time with your Mom, and I’ll come by with dinner later? I can pick up from the Thai place you guys like.”

“That would be good.” She nods, thankful that she can determine what kind of mood you are in. It’s possible that you have simply brushed off the entire thing, but she doubts it.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Pad Thai for my girl and that crazy peanut curry your Mom likes.” He grins when Rachel almost opens her mouth, but he holds up his hand. “And the fried calamari with the sweet chili sauce. Otherwise don’t bother bringing anything at all. I know, baby. I love you.”

She laughs and leans over to press her lips to his cheek. “You are the best.” She promises. “Thank you for being here. For not finding all of this crazy.”

It’s a little crazy, but not nearly crazy enough to lose her over, so Benny just hums and kisses her back. “Text me if you need me, baby. I’m going to train for a few hours.”

“Good luck.” She doesn’t ask if Frankie is going to help, she doesn’t want to know right now. Since his pilot’s license was suspended, Frankie had been helping Benny train and right now, it’s just too awkward to think about.

Normally vigilant, you don't even hear the front door of the house open when Rachel comes inside. The box of memories has overflowed all over the table as you uncover more and more pieces of your past, and there is definitely a damp tissue in your hand when you finally hear footsteps on the kitchen tile. "Oh shit." The sound makes you jump, but when you wheel around to see your daughter standing there, you relax immediately. "Sorry, sweet pea. I didn't know you were coming home. You scared me."

“Hey Mom.” Curiosity practically seeps out of her pores, looking over pictures and trinkets that she’s never seen before. She knows this has to be a box of things from your time with her dad. She knows it. “Organizing?”

"Um...more like memory lane." You glance back at the table before looking up at your daughter and pat the chair beside you. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

“No, but I can wait.” She doesn’t want you to stop, so she slides into the seat and picks up a Polaroid. “Holy shit….you two look like babies.”

"That was..." Tilting your head slightly in consideration, you squint at the faded photograph and end up smiling. "Sophomore year. So we were about 15? They took us all on a class trip to Ellis Island."

“God.” She huffs, squinting at the photo. “You two look over the moon crazy about each other.” She points out, noticing the way that her dad’s arm is slung over your shoulder and he’s grinning like he’s the luckiest boy in the world.

"We were." If there's a note of yearning in your voice it's unintentional, but you do reach for another photo and hand it over to her to inspect. "Senior prom," you hum in amusement, and offer her another photo that has you and Frankie noticeably younger with a very excited looking collie in the photo between you. "And this is the day he asked me out." Shifting the picture from Ellis Island into the middle, you look at the trio with tired eyes. "The beginning, middle, and almost-end of our relationship."

“You never really talked about my dad much.” She studied each photo carefully, as if she could possibly glean some friction that was under the bright smiles and finding nothing. “Did it hurt too much?”

"Partially." It was a large part of it, if you're honest, and you realize belatedly that you've picked up a piece of jewelry he gave you ages ago like it's some kind of fidget toy. "But also...I didn't think we would ever see him again. And I didn't want you to build up dreams of him thinking he might just stroll in through the front door one day. Which seems ludicrous now, since that is essentially what happened."

Rachel snorts and leans back, biting her lip. “It’s fucking crazy is what it is.” She admits. “He’s like…one of Ben’s best friends. He said they’ve been through some shit together. Francisco saved his life…more than once. My father saved my boyfriend’s life.”

"I'm sure you have plenty you want to ask." Pushing back from the table, you squeeze her shoulder gently and step away to scour the refrigerator for anything breakfast oriented. "But first...how are you and Ben doing, honey? Are you guys okay with all this?"

“We’re okay.” She promises, reaching for another photo. “He’s coming back after training with Pad Thai for dinner.” She tells you. “Santiago still asleep?” His car isn’t in the driveway, so it’s an invitation for you to talk, rather than a question.

"Probably." He's a heavy sleeper, and definitely not a morning person, so wherever he is he's probably still asleep. But that isn't what Rachel is asking and you both know it. "He didn't stay, honey." Suddenly you want absolutely nothing to eat all over again, and your head pounds even harder. More coffee will help... "We, uh...we broke up, Rach."

“Oh shit.” She huffs out the whispered curse and shoots out of her chair. Dropping the photos as she rushes towards you to engulf you in a huge hug. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

"It's okay, honey." It hurts like hell, but you aren't going to treat your daughter like your therapist. It's more than enough that she's there to offer you comfort and support. "I'm just glad that the whole situation hasn't come between you and Ben."

“He broke up with you, didn’t he?” Rachel frowns deeply, upset on your behalf. “That asshole. I’m going to chew him a new asshole.”

"It just wasn't meant to be, that's all." The last thing you want to do is cause more drama with this group of friends that she has. It's bad enough that her father is in the middle of all of this. "And he's entitled to make that decision for himself."

“Did he say why?” She demands.

"He didn't have to say why." But now she's upset, and you start buzzing around the kitchen again to keep yourself busy and hopefully soothe both of you with some food. "If it makes you feel any better, he wasn't happy about it."

“Oh.” That makes her pause and she tries to see it from his point of view. “Oh shit….” She sighs and moves to flop back down into her chair. “He— it’s because of Dad, right?” She asks quietly. “Some kind of bro code. ‘Thou shall not sleep with friend’s former girl’? That has to be it.”

"I don't know if it's as formal as that, but...basically." Yogurt and fresh fruit from the fridge are joined by a box of granola from the cupboard and you put on a fresh pot of coffee to brew. "It's okay, sweet pea. I promise. And please don't think any less of Santiago for putting his friendship first. He's known Frankie a heck of a lot longer than he's known me."

“I just— I don’t like the fact that him showing up has ruined things for you.” She’s still conflicted, and she would never tell you her secret fantasy, even as close as you are.

"It's better to find out early on." That's what you're telling yourself this morning. That you were better off finding out that Santiago and Frankie are best friends before you and Santiago had started planning for the future. "It's not anybody's fault. It's just...how life is sometimes."

She blows out a guilty sigh. “I wish I had stayed home.” She mourns. “I didn’t know he was going to break up with you. You were all alone.”

"I didn't want your night ruined." Once the coffee pot is going again, you grab bowls and spoons and bring the whole tray of breakfast things to the table. "You deserve to have a nice time with your boyfriend. That shouldn't stop on account of your Mom having a little drama in her life."

“A little drama…” she snorts and rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. Unaware that she looks exactly like Frankie would have. Right down to the downturn of her frown and the crease of her dimple.

"You look exactly like your father when you do that, you know." You've always thought so, and she's been doing that posture since she was a toddler. "If you ever see him do it, it will be like looking in a mirror."

She rolls her eyes again, sensing that you are trying to steer the subject back to him and she lets you “Tell me about it?” She asks softly. “All of it. The good, the bad and the ugly.”

"For the most part, it was all good," you admit. A basic breakfast comes together easily for both of you and you fill your bowls with yogurt and fruit and honey and granola in your own personal perfect ratios. "We were nearly inseparable. And since we went to the same school, and our Dads worked for the same company, it all went pretty smoothly for a long time. Everybody just...assumed we would always be together. Even us."

“Was there ever any sign he would break up with you?” Rachel can’t even fathom how abruptly the relationship ended if you were as close as you say. It’s just not how she knows her mother to be. You have always been strong and vocal.

“We had a whole plan.” A plan that went haywire, but a plan nonetheless. “But…when I found out I was pregnant I panicked. I started pressing Frankie to get married quickly, instead of waiting like we had planned. I should have told him why, but I was seventeen and convinced that he would just break up with me if I told him the truth. And…no, before you ask. He never gave me any indication that he wouldn’t have wanted a baby. But he wanted to wait to do the grown-up things, so I thought that springing the news on him would ruin it. But if I could show him that getting married earlier wasn’t a big deal, then the baby news would be okay, too. It…it doesn’t make a lot of sense in retrospect. But we were just about to graduate high school and I was hiding my morning sickness by claiming it was nerves over my boyfriend joining the Army. I was not at my best critical thinking levels.”

“Do you think he would have stayed if he had known about me?” The question is quiet, introspective. Wanting to know if she would have been wanted. She knows you love her; you’ve always made that clear, but she also wants to know about the man who is the other half of her biological makeup.

“I didn’t think so at the time, but I don’t know how much of that was just fear of the unknown,” you admit, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently in your own. “But I know he wants to get to know you now. I’m sorry that isn’t a very good answer.”

“Are you— are you okay with that?” She asks, unsure if getting to know Fransisco would cause you pain. She wouldn’t want that, not for a moment. “If you don’t want to see him….” She shrugs. “I can meet him out in town. Not talk about him.”

“Honey, no.” On this point you are absolutely firm, and you shake your head adamantly. “There’s been enough years of not talking about your father. He’s not someone to be ashamed of and we’re not going to treat him that way.” Will it hurt? Of course. But you would rather see Rachel happy than anything else in the world.

“Okay.” She’s still eyeing you doubtfully, but she agrees. For now, she will just make sure that there isn’t a lot of talk about the man you had loved. “Do you— how do you feel about getting to know him again? Seeing him?”

“I wish it hadn’t been by surprise.” That admission comes with a little laugh, because yesterday is still so unbelievable to you, but you just shrug and shake your head. “To be honest, sweet pea? If I can’t face him at this point, I’ll never be able to. And you deserve to know your father.”

“It might be a good thing, then.” She decides. “You make it sound like you never expected to see him ever again.”

"I didn't." You can admit to that very easily.

She nods, looking down at the photos again. “You loved him.” She can tell that easily by the besotted look on your face. “Do you still? Or love that version of him?” She points to the high school photo of them together.

"You're really not going easy on me with the questions today, are you kiddo?" The coffeepot finishes percolating, and you pop up from the table again, needing a fresh cup if you're going to continue on with this line of thought from your daughter. After a few moments of silence filled only by the pouring of hot coffee, you return to the table and sigh. "Yes." You nod finally. "I still love him very much. But who he was then and who he is now may be two completely different people so I have no intention of making a nuisance out of myself after a whole lifetime apart. I only care that you get to have your father around if you want him in your life."

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs softly. “Who would have fucking ever thought? Not me. I mean, I always thought it would be wild if Ben had met my dad. But you nor my grandparents ever even said his name.”

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Rach. Life just...doesn't make sense sometimes. But we always make the best we can out of the confusion." The two of you doctor your coffee and dig in to your light breakfast. Whatever happens, you will just keep rolling with it. Your adult life has been making sure that Rachel is cared for and happy, and that doesn't change just because Frankie Morales still makes your heart clench.

******

He’s in the room with Luna when there’s a knock at the front door. Watching her play with the toys in front of her and squeal happily for tummy time. She’s almost ready to crawl, but for some reason, hasn’t started yet. It irritates Marie, but Frankie is happy to have his daughter still immobile for a bit longer. Once she starts moving, there will be no stopping her.

Marie pulls open the front door with a huff, dressed to go out and irritated that she's being delayed even for a few seconds. "Will." The figure of Frankie's friend fills the doorway and where she once had patience to pretend to be glad to see any of them, it has evaporated recently. "He's been in with the baby since yesterday. Good luck getting him out."

“Hey Marie,” Will doesn’t care for the woman, but he also knows that as long as Frankie is with her, he needs to be polite. Knowing that causing any problems for his former teammate would not be in the man’s best interest. “You are dressed up nice. Big plans?”

"Girls' day," she tells him breezily. Marie grabs her purse and sunglasses with the door still open and swans right through it. "Bye!"

“Bye.” He watches her practically zip down the stairs and chuckles slightly. It’s not like having a day for yourself is not warranted. He wonders if Frankie offered this so he could go to the cookout yesterday. “Fish?” He calls out, wanting him to know that he was here. Everyone is a little more on edge since South America and it wouldn’t be wise to startle him.

Luna squawks happily at the familiar sound of her uncle Will's voice, and he steps further into the apartment. Footfalls that are heavy enough to be heard, but not heavy enough to disturb the downstairs neighbors. The woman who lives below Frankie works third shift and will barely be asleep at this hour of the morning.

Frankie looks up as the door opens, his eyes falling on Will before looking back down at his daughter. “Uncle Will is here.” He coos, brow furrowed as he goes over yet another thing that he missed out on with Rachel. “What’s up?”

“Thought you could use some company,” Will tells him honestly, but he also reaches out for Luna and grins when she reaches back. “And I wanted to see my favorite niece in the whole wide world,” he babbles, laughing when the little girl giggles and looks over again at Frankie. He looks like he needs to stretch at minimum, if not run a marathon to get rid of some stress.

“Only—” Frankie breaks off from his usual retort, paling slightly when the new dynamic hits him all over again. “Where’s Jess?”

“Brunch with her sister.” Will’s girlfriend is typically around for whatever mischief the group gets up to when she isn’t at work, but makes seeing her sister a priority just like Will and Benny make each other priority. It gives her a good foundation of understanding for the Miller brothers, and makes her a solid support person for the whole group — not just for Will. “She asked me to apologize to you for having to work yesterday. Said it sounded like you could have used the support…”

“Yeah.” The word is heavy, pushed out of him on a sigh. He reaches up to scrub his hair, his hat missing this morning and he picks up Luna to hand her to Will when she keeps squawking for him.

“Hey little fairy queen!” Will blows a raspberry on Luna’s cheek to make her laugh and nods his head that Frankie should follow him out into the living room. “Marie went out,” the younger man tells him.

Nodding quietly, Frankie groans as he pushes himself up off the floor. “Yeah. She said something about a day off.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else. Seems like she’s needed more and more days off since he’s come back from South America, but every time he suggests spending time together, it’s thrown in his face that he was radio silent for nearly fourteen days – double the amount of time he had said he would be gone. Frankie has just given up trying to apologize.

“Talk to me, Fish.” Will insists, carrying Luna into the kitchen to grab them drinks and looking the little girl over. “Does she need a bottle? I have no idea what time it is.”

“She ate about an hour ago.” Frankie sighs and moves over to the fridge, opening it up to notice that Marie didn’t get the cereal he had asked for, nor any of the baby foods. He sighs and grabs a couple of sodas. It’s a bad idea to drink right now. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Fish.” Will’s tone is deadpan and matter-of-fact all at once. “C’mon man.”

Sighing again, he pops the top of his soda and takes a swing. “What do you want me to say?” Frankie huffs. “This is going to be a big fucking deal.” Marie is going to kill him. It’s not going to matter that his child is grown or that he never even knew about her. His girlfriend had this strange obsession with having been the only girl to have a baby with him. Had once jokingly told him that she had baby trapped him— although it hadn’t felt like much of a joke at the time. She had been six months pregnant at that point. “I feel goddamn guilty.”

“You had no idea.” Will reminds him. He cracks the cap on the soda that he had been handed and quietly approves of the choice. Marie hadn’t been a very good influence in Fish’s habits but since coming back from South America he’s been trying to clean up his act pretty dramatically. “But uh…hell of a coincidence, honestly. We always knew you and Pope had the same taste in women.”

“Fuck.” Frankie snorts and rolls his eyes, trying to hide the pain in them. “It’s not that….” He hedges guiltily, reaching out and tickling Luna under her chin and then dropping his hand. “I’ve been stuck on what could have been if I had known.”

“Would you have stayed?” It’s a hard question, and maybe it doesn’t have an answer, but it’s important that he’s at least thought about it. About what he would have done then and what he’ll do now.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” The answer is immediate and fierce. “I should have asked questions. Demanded to know why she wanted to get married so badly.”

“You were kids.” That part of the situation cannot be stressed nearly enough, and the two men bring Luna into the living room to settle her in her playpen so they can talk.

“We were adult enough to make a baby.” Frankie shoots back before he winces. “One who is currently fucking your brother. Jesus Christ.” He flops down onto the sofa and covers his face with his hand.

“Yeah…Benny promises to cool his jets talking about her like that, by the way.” That conversation had been had between the brothers already — Benny had brought it up and Will promised to deliver the message. “He never would’ve if he had known.”

“Still gonna punch him.” Frankie snort out, looking up at the ceiling. “Definitely didn’t need to know that shit about my daughter.”

"More than fair," Will agrees with a snicker. "He absolutely deserves it. My only request is to be allowed to film it for posterity."

Frankie laughs, probably for the first time since his world has been flipped upside down and he leans back. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

"Perfect world." Will poses, pointing a finger and the neck of the Dr. Pepper bottle at Fish. "Best case scenario, what would you want?"

Frankie shakes his head. “Time travel isn’t possible, man.” He sighs and looks over at Luna. “And I don’t regret having my baby girl.”

"Okay, that's fair." Nobody could regret little Luna, in his opinion. She's the best baby in the world, and he and Benny have their fair share of nieces and nephews to compare to back home from their sister. "Best case scenario of the future."

Guilt swims in his stomach and he rubs it reflexively. “Come on, she hates me.” He starts out. “There’s no way I could possibly have that happily ever after like in some kind of fucking Hallmark movie.” He closes his eyes. “Besides, Marie would fucking murder me.”

"Respectfully, Marie can rot in hell." None of the guys like her, but Fish had been so deep under her spell in the beginning that they had let things run their course, hoping that he would come to his senses along the way. Instead, Fish ended up with a baby on the way. "If you want your girl, maybe one of us can at least do a little recon before you just assume that she hates you?"

He hates the hope that blooms, knowing it would be squashed quickly. “Fuck— how could she not hate me?” He huffs, rolling his eyes and flopping his head forward to take another sip of the soda, even if he desperately wishes it was a beer. “I left her alone to raise a kid. Our kid.” He bites his lip. “I almost saw her….after boot camp. But I was too goddamn stubborn and that bit me in the ass.”

"What happened?" Trying to poke and prod along this highway through Fish's memories is precarious, but it's why Will is here. Pope isn't going to be able to talk sense into Fish right now while he's still getting over the woman who fathered his best friend's oldest child. And Benny sure as fuck isn't going to be the one to offer advice when he's currently sleeping with said oldest child. This one is Will's job.

“I don’t even fucking know.” Frankie closes his eyes. “There was the normal bullshit teasing.” He admits. “Everyone saying I was going to knock her up before we graduated. Have to get married. But we had a plan. I was going to go through boot camp and my schooling and then we were going to get married.” It’s filtering through memories that he’s simultaneously repressed and played over and over again. Not sure where daydreams end and reality begins.

It does no one any good to point out that he had very clearly gotten you pregnant before graduation, so Will glosses over that particular detail entirely. "So when she started pushing too, you dug your heels in?"

“She just hit me with it out of nowhere.” Frankie tells him. “At our graduation party. Demands that we get married. Gets angry when I remind her that we had a plan. That I wasn’t marrying her right out of high school.” Frankie sighs, the ‘hindsight is 20/20’ saying is smacking him on the forehead, but you could have told him. “She started crying and telling me we had to get married or it’s over and I snapped.”

"Okay." When Will nods, he leans forward in his seat and watches Luna playing with her brightly colored plastic key ring for a few seconds. "So neither of you gets points for 'Most Mature Teenager Ever'. That's not super surprising."

“No, but I could have cooled down. Gone back to talk to her.” Frankie sighs. “I left for boot camp the next day.”

"But we all know you never forgot about her." The elder Miller brother looks up, raising an eyebrow at Fish and daring his friend to challenge him. "We all have heard you talk about her."

Frankie blushes slightly, knowing that Will is right. “You never forget your first love.”

"Can I be honest?" Normally it's not something he has to ask about, but this is a sensitive topic.

“Shoot.” They’ve been friends for too long to even question it, but Frankie gives him the go ahead.

"It's pretty obvious to anybody who knows you that..." Will shrugs, almost apologizing for the observation. "That you're still in love with her. Or at least you still have love for her."

“That obvious?” Frankie rolls his head back and groans. “Great. Now everyone is going to think I’m pathetic. And Marie can never know who she is. Never.”

"Nobody thinks you're pathetic, Fish." He chuckles softly as Luna has her keys in one hand and reaches for her teddy with the other, determined to have both toys at once. "But man...we've got to do something about this whole situation before you lose your mind or your health or both."

“Seriously thought about just getting faded.” He shoots Will a bland smile to show he’s joking. “Too bad we burned Lorea’s house down. Sure he had some shit stashed in there too.”

"That shit would've killed you," Will points out without hesitation. "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You and the little queen over here deserve a way better environment than the one you've got."

“Marie swears she’s clean too.” Frankie had gone into rehab before the baby was born, another sore spot between them. But he wants to get his license back bad enough that he would do whatever it takes.

"It's not just that." It's largely that, but not just. "We're worried, Fish. Honestly worried. You're miserable except for your little girl, and you don't have to be."

“She’s pissed at me.” Frankie reminds Will. “Rightfully so. I got popped on a test. I lost my fucking license.”

“So you’re telling me it’s just right now?” Will challenges. “It’s completely temporary that Marie is upset. It’s not been years of excuse after excuse and abusive, controlling behavior that you would have called any single one of us out on already?”

“What do you want me to do, Will?” He feels helpless and stuck. “We have a kid together. I can’t just fucking get rid of her.”

“Jess and I talked.” It might be horrible, but just getting Frankie to admit that he would rather not be with Marie is a huge step forward. They’ve been worried about him for a long time and they’ll take the avenue in that they’ve got. “We cleaned up the spare bedroom and we want to offer it to you and Luna. One floor away might not be far from Marie yet, but it’s a good first step. A safe step.”

“She’s going to try to take Luna from me.” Frankie is immediately shaking his head no, sitting up. “I can’t— Jesus Will, she knows what happened in South America. You don’t think she won’t use that shit to take my child from me?”

“She has no proof.” The reminder is a stark one. That the trip five men made and only four returned from was a dire one. “We were ghosts down there, man. As far as anybody can prove, we were in Sao Paolo on a boys’ trip. That’s all. Nothing illegal about that whatsoever.”

He’s right, but the blind panic still grips Frankie. “I can’t lose her.” He murmurs, looking over at where she has tired herself out and sprawled on the mat of her play pen to sleep. “I’ve lost too much already.”

"We're going to do everything we can, and we're going to be on your side every step of the way," Will assures him. "If you want to get out of this situation, then we're going to help you. Together."

“She’s gotta leave me.” Frankie had never married her, thank God, but he sighs softly. “I think she’s close.”

Ruefully, Will chuckles under his breath. "Then maybe we should tell her about Rachel."

Frankie huffs out a small chuckle. “Do you want her to hit me with a fuckin’ frying pan?”

"My reflexes are pretty good," he's still chuckling, but this time he shrugs and nudges Fish. Seeing him laugh even a little is good. "I'll stop it before the pan gets to you."

“You mentioned a lawyer once.” Frankie reminds him. “You think you could—? I mean, you don’t have to.”

"Absolutely." There is no hesitation in Will's answer. In fact, he's practically pulling out his phone.

“Don’t— I mean, just talk to them.” Frankie hedges. “See if they would be willing to talk to me.”

"I know he will, but I won't jump the gun. I'll just talk to him." The lawyer in question is ex-Army and specializes in custody cases without a clear-cut answer. Will knows he'll do everything he can for a man like Frankie.

He can’t even believe he is contemplating this. “I know she’s going to find out about Rachel.” Frankie murmurs quietly. “But I’m dreading it.”

"That's more than fair." Shifting on the couch, Will looks away from the little figure of Luna asleep in her playpen and focuses on Frankie. "But will it be better or worse if she finds out on her own, rather than you being direct with her?"

“I don’t fucking know.” Frankie frowns, scratching his head. “She’s been so….volatile after Luna. Or South America. Pick one. But she just throws a fit when I tell her to go to the doctor.”

"You shouldn't be alone when you tell her." That much is pretty damn obvious, but Will isn't beyond stating the obvious right now. "If for no other reason than having a corroborating witness for the custody trial."

“Might need a camera.” Frankie snorts quietly, hating how bad things have gotten. He could deal with a lot of shit, but it’s getting be too much.

"Florida's a two-party consent state," Will reminds him. "A witness is better than a camera."

Frankie blows out a sigh and nods. “Yeah. You’re right.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand how I get myself into this shit.”

“What matters is that we’re going to get you out of it.” The promise is solemn. Quiet, even. That they are going to get Fish out of this hellhole of a relationship. “You and Luna. You’re going to be safe, so she can grow up without worrying that her mom is going to blow up at any time.”

“I don’t understand what went wrong.” Frankie continues on, shaking his head. “It was good at the beginning.”

“Not everything is made to last.” They aren’t necessarily the softest words of wisdom out there, but Will knows as well as anyone that good things come to an end. After all, things were great with his ex-fiancée until they weren’t. “And sometimes…sometimes we get a second chance.”

“Not that I deserve one.” That comment comes for a multitude of reasons, not just leaving you alone and unsupported during your pregnancy and your daughter’s life.

Will hums, understanding where the thought comes from even if he doesn’t agree. “Isn’t that up to her, ultimately? And to you, if you want to give her a second chance?”

“I don’t have any reason to not give her anything.” Frankie snorts. “I owe her. A shit ton of back child support, too.”

"Just start small," the other man advises. The small smile playing on his lips is just from being happy that his friend is starting to seem more relieved. "Talk to her. Get to know Rachel better."

Frankie blows out a sigh and looks over at Luna again. He can’t imagine missing any more time with her than he has to, and he missed Rachel’s entire life. He had a lot to make up for. “Yeah.”

Will blows out a sigh, reaching over and patting Fish's shoulder with the force of a man who knows his own strength but understands some people need to have love and support knocked into them instead of handed gently. "We'll figure it out, man," he promises. "Whatever it takes.”

******

Because Marie is gone out for a girl’s night and Will’s girl is spending the day with her sister, Frankie and Will end up ordering a pizza. Relaxed for the first time since the big reveal, Frankie is sitting on the sofa, laughing with two slices on a plate and another soda in his hand. Luna is already fed, bathed and down for the night, so he’s seriously contemplating the option of a beer.

The door slams open without ceremony, definitely loud enough to make both men inside jump and loud enough to wake up the baby, but Marie doesn't care. She tears inside like a tornado, already seething and ready to scream before she's even closed the door behind her. "Francisco!"

“Jesus!” Frankie jumps up, pizza spilling onto the floor and he’s half afraid that there’s been an accident, until he sees her fury-filled face. “What?”

"What the fuck is this?" There is a slip of paper in Marie's hand and Frankie's coat is draped over her arm, but she throws that down on the floor in the entry way. "Tell me why I reached into your coat pocket and found some slut's phone number?"

His eyes widened, latched onto the paper and he shakes his head. “It’s not— Marie— she’s not— it’s not like that.” He promises, holding his hands up. “I don’t fuck around on you.”

"Then who the fuck is Rachel?" She snarls, practically spitting the name at him as though its very existence was proof enough of his wrongdoing.

“She’s Benny’s girl.” He pleads for her to understand. “I promise. She gave me her number as a friend, nothing more. She’s not interested in me and I’m not interested in her.”

"So you're fucking your friend's girl now?" Marie is very much in the camp that men and women can't be friends without sex getting in the way, so she doesn't buy this bullshit for a second. "Do you hear this Miller? This asshole is fucking your brother's girlfriend."

“God no.” Frankie nearly blanches at the thought and he can’t shake his head fast enough. “No— I’m not fucking her. Never. Please, babe, you gotta believe me. There’s nothing like that between us.”

"Is that where you were yesterday, asshole?" The fire in Marie's eyes makes it abundantly clear that she has already drawn her own conclusions. She has already decided what happened and nothing Frankie says will dissuade her. "Rachel's house?"

“With Benny.” Frankie stresses, wincing when he hears Luna start to cry out in her bedroom. “Fuck.” He hisses. “Will was there. Nothing happened. Goddamnit, you woke the baby.”

"Oh, who gives a fuck about the baby?" She wails, which only makes Luna cry louder. "You're cheating on me!"

“Hold on.” Will doesn’t like to get involved in this, but he holds up his hand. “Fish isn’t cheating on you.”

“Nobody asked you.” Marie spits, clearly only wanting Will involved in the argument when it suits her.

“I’m not cheating on you.” Frankie implores one more time. “Please, just— believe me. Rachel is—” he can’t say it. The words are stuck in his throat.

“Rachel is what, Francisco?” She’s spitting mad — literally — and when Frankie doesn’t answer her immediately she steps further into his space and slaps him clean across the face. “You’re a piece of shit, Morales. But you knew that already.”

His head snaps to the side but he doesn’t react. Will tenses, not sure if Frankie would ever snap to jump back, but he knows that it would be a mistake on the other man’s part. “I am.” Frankie tells her quietly. “We both know that.”

Satisfied with at least that one answer, Marie tosses the piece of paper on the ground at his feet and crosses her arms. “So what the fuck do you have to say for yourself?”

She won’t stop. Not now. Now that she has this insane idea in her head that he’s cheating on her. Frankie glances over at Will, sighing heavily and he scrubs his hands on his pants. “Thing is…Marie…” he swallows, feeling nervous even though he had been cool under more dire circumstances than these. “Rachel is….uh, she’s my fucking daughter.” He confesses quietly.

The moment of hesitation before Marie starts laughing like a disgusted hyena is only the amount of time it takes her to process the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard in her life. Without another second of thought or hesitation, Marie's hand makes contact with Frankie's cheek a second time, the slap ringing through the apartment with a violent vibration. "You should have been groveling on your knees every day you had me," she spits, arms crossed again despite looking like she wants to make it three slaps for 'good' measure. "You fucked up for the last time, Morales. Hope Rachel is enough of a slut to make up for the fact that you wouldn't know where to put your dick with a road map." Shoving past both men, the whirlwind of Marie's anger propels her toward the bedroom with impressive velocity. "Have fun raising that crotch goblin alone, asshole. You fucked up for the last time."

“Marie…” Frankie can’t believe what the fuck she just said. The door to the bedroom slams open and he can only pray that it’s their bedroom and not Luna’s as the baby’s screams get louder. “I’m coming, baby girl.” He rushes to the baby, wanting to protect her and calm her down.

Will stands in the living room, hypervigilant with his phone in his hand to call for help – emergency services or the guys, whichever is needed – just in case. Frankie had closed the door to Luna's nursery behind him to keep the noise down but it's the door to the master bedroom that Will is watching closely. If Marie wants to start shit with him, too, he's right here ready for it.

Rushing over to the crib, Frankie picks up a red-faced, screeching Luna. Gasping for air as she screams, shaking in fury. “It’s okay, baby.” He coos softly, making sure to keep his own emotions closed off, not wanting to transfer energy to her. “Daddy’s gotcha. I’m right here. Shhhhhush.”

Rattling from the room next door continues, finding a crescendo in the crashing of something that might have been furniture. When Marie throws the door back open she seethes at Will, screaming something incoherent before shoving him out of the way to snap up a few things from the living room and throw them into the various bags she has been packing in the bedroom. Mere seconds later, she is marching out the door with one last screeched "FUCK YOU, FRANCISCO!" and leaving it open as she stomps off down the hall into the night.

Luna is halfway soothed, still hiccupping and sobbing into his chest as Frankie rocks her as he paces around the room. Completely sure that his girlfriend has trashed the apartment, but his concern is his daughter.

The door to the nursery opens slowly about a minute later, and Will swallows but shakes his head solemnly. "Well..." The best he can do is sigh. "She's gone. Took about four bags with her."

Frankie turns and nods. “Can you— uh, I think she might need another bottle.” He tells Will. “I don’t want to put her down.”

"I got it," Will promises, putting up one hand as if to tell Fish to stand down. "I also called in reinforcements. The guys should be here in no time. We'll get the place cleaned up and figure things up." He flashes his friend a half smile, trying for a joke. "Guess you won't need to move in with me and Jess after all."

“I don’t—” Frankie bites his lip and frowns. “You don’t think she will come back, do you?”

"Maybe for some stuff she left behind, but those were full bags, Fish." Will shakes his head again, not even sure what to say at this point but sure as all hell that things will be figured out before the night is over. "I'm just glad it's not too late. The number of noise complaints should be fewer." With that, Will steps away to make Luna a bottle and wait for the others to arrive.

“It’s okay, baby girl.” Frankie rumbles softly, rubbing her little back and jostling her to calm her down. “You’re okay. Everything is good.”

******

Benny ignores his phone the first time it goes off in his pocket. The second time, even. It's the third time his phone buzzes with a text message that he apologizes and takes his cell out at the kitchen table as he's eating dinner with you and Rachel. "It's the group chat," he explains, the repeated apology apparent in his voice. You both know there is a group chat with the guys, but opening it at the table isn't his usual thing. He tries to have manners around his girlfriend's mother. "Oh shit..." Benny breathes a second later, eyes widening as he reads the texts.

“What?” Rachel looks over at Benny in concern. She knows how hard he tries to impress you and it’s rare that he’s even pulling out his phone.

"I, uh..." He's already halfway pulling the napkin out of his lap with panic on his face, and he looks up at you and Rachel but his eyes jet back down to his phone. "It's Frankie," he explains, unsure how that particular news is going to go over. "He's...my brother is over at his place. It's a SOS text."

“What is it?” Rachel’s eyes widen and she reaches for Ben. Almost ready to claw the phone from him to see for herself. Her mind has immediately started spiraling with worst case scenarios.

"The text says clean up and mission assessment," Benny tells her, although he knows that that won't make any sense to her. It's more like reassuring her that grabbing his phone won't do her any good.

"Is he okay?" You ask, wanting a much plainer and more immediate answer than whatever cryptic military text message he got.

"Safe." Benny clarifies. "That text means he needs our help, not that something has happened to him."

“I’ll go with you.” Rachel is immediately tossing down her napkin and standing. Clearing her plate so she can tidy up quickly and head out with him. It’s obviously time sensitive.

"Baby..." Benny stands too, watching Rachel's anxiety start to build very obviously. "You don't need to do that. We can take care of things. I don't even know what happened yet."

"It doesn't matter what happened." In the split second he looked away, you've stood up, too. Gathering things up on the table means you'll just throw leftovers in the fridge and wash the dishes later. "If he needs help, we're going to help him."

“Mom…are you sure?” Rachel stops and turns towards you. “You don’t have to. Everyone would understand.”

"Sweet pea, I have eighteen extra years of stubbornness on you," you remind her, never once pausing as you clear up from dinner. "We'll take two cars, I'll follow you and Ben since I don't know where I'm going."

Rachel looks over at Benny, but he’s just shaking his head and holding his hands up. Unwilling to get in the middle of that argument. “Don’t look at me.” He snorts.

"Leftovers in the fridge. Two cars. Let's go," you insist, knowing from the churning in the pit of your stomach that whatever the problem is...you're in it now. If Frankie needs help, you're going to be right there to give it to him.

“Yes ma’am.” Benny helps put away the food, clearing his own plate and grabbing his keys out of his pocket. “You can follow me.”

______

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[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch8

Well here we are. I can't believe I have wrote eight chapters already for this story. @smoothdogsgirl WARNINGS: Fluff/Smut, Mentions of abuse, Mentions of suffocation, Mentions of attempted murder, Stalker, Blowjob, Pussy eating and squirting

The next morning you woke up before Jake as he had your back pressed to his chest and arm around you. You wiggled trying to get free, but his arm around you tightened. “Where do ya’ think yer goin’?”, he said, voice gravelly from sleep. You giggled but turned in his arms to face him only giggling harder at his hair sticking up in every direction. He smiled as you reached up and placed a kiss on his lips. “I was hoping to get up to start making breakfast”, you stated. 

“I think breakfast can wait a little longer”, he said, then rolled so you were on your back and he could hover over you. He kissed you a couple times then moved down to your neck where he started to nip at your pulse. “Jake”, you say sternly. He laughed a little as he moved to where your neck and shoulder meet. He kissed there first then had you gasping when he sucked on the sensitive skin there. 

His hands slowly crept up under your shirt to palm your right breast. You moaned and arched into his palm, but just as soon as he started he stopped. “Jake what…”, you whined. “Now darlin’ what about that breakfast?”, he inquired. “Breakfast can wait”, you replied. “Now darlin’ I’m thinking good ol’ biscuits and gravy”, he said. “I swear you’re a pain in the ass”, you huffed. He smiled and leaned down to kiss you then got up getting dressed and heading towards the kitchen. 

You flopped back into the bed as you tried to steady your racing heart and the throbbing in your pussy. When you got dressed and made it into the kitchen Jake was already pulling out everything he needed to make homemade biscuits. “Oh no I’ll make the biscuits while you make the gravy”, you told him. “What if I gravy your biscuits later”, he says suggestively. You turn to glare at him as he laughs at his joke. You make the biscuits from scratch while Jake makes the gravy. Both of you are dancing around each other in the kitchen.

“Are you mad at me?”, Jake eventually asks. “No, just a little sexually frustrated”, you sigh. He laughs a little at that and you swear he likes to rile you up on purpose. You finish making breakfast and Jake makes your plate but starts heading to the back door telling you to follow him. When you make it out the back door there is a beautiful patio. He sets the plates down on a small table. “It’s so beautiful here. I don’t see how you could have ever left this place”, you say.

“Well when I turned eighteen I wanted to be anywhere but here”, he said. “Why is that? I mean if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine”, you say. “My dad wasn’t the kindest man and he was abusive towards my mother. If we stepped in to defend her we got it too. He wanted me…well he still wants me to take over the ranch since my sister won’t take it over. She didn’t want anything associated with his name so when she married Colton they took over his fathers ranch”, he explained. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that”, you apologized. “It’s in the past”, he tells you. You both eat breakfast as you hear a truck pull up. It was Colton, Evelynn, Annabelle and Georgia. “Hey Jake I was wondering if you all wouldn’t mind watching the kids while Colton and I go to the doctors”, Evelynn says. “Yeah that should be fine”, he says. “It may be okay with you but you didn’t ask (Y/N)”, Evelynn says. “It’s fine”, you reply. 

Georgia immediately comes up and pulls on your pant leg so you hoist her up onto your lap as Annabelle tells Jake about everything she learned at camp last week. “Bicuits”, Georgia says. “Yes those are biscuits” you reply. “Bicuits peas”, Georgia speaks. “Do you want biscuits?”, you ask as Jake is watching you out of the corner of his eye. Georgia nods her head vigorously as you cut the biscuit into smaller pieces and offer her some. She eats each time you offer and Jake can’t help but smile. 

“Can we go to the creek today?”, Annabelle asked. “Cweek cweek”, Georgia chanted. “I guess it’s okay as long as it’s okay with (Y/N)”, Jake said. “I would love to go to the creek”, you said. After you finished breakfast Jake loaded up the truck and got the girls in. On the way Georgia sat in your lap where she was content. Annabelle named any and every animal on the way. The creek was very wide and seemed more like a river than a creek, but you were hoping it would be cooling as the day was starting to get hotter.

Annabelle took off as Jake yelled after her to be careful. You picked Georgia up and started walking to the creek. “I can hold her if you don’t want to”, Jake said. You noticed he seemed eager to hold her so you passed her over. “Unc Jake wawa wawa”, Georgia pointed. “Yep we’re going”, he smiled. You watched him as he tickled her and blew raspberries falling even more in love with him. Georgia kicked wanting to be put down when they reached the waters edge, but Jake held fast. 

“Not so fast squirt you gotta hold my hand when you go in so you don’t get hurt”, he said. Jake kicked off his shoes and socks rolling up his pant legs and went into the water holding Georgia’s hand. When Bradley had told you that Hangman was no good you didn’t expect this. It was like everything Bradley said was wrong. Sure you didn’t know how he acted when flying, but you had seen plenty of your dads friends. They often put on a show or acted tough, but deep down they would do anything for their squad mates and their families.

You soon kicked off your shoes and rolled your pants up to join them. Georgia splashing and soaking Jake’s and your pant legs, but you both didn’t mind as Annabelle called out about something in the water. “I’ll go check it out”, you said. Jake nodded as you made your way to Annabelle. “See it”, she said pointing. “I see it”, you reply. You reached in and pulled out a rusty horseshoe. “It must have been here for a while”, you say. You give it to Annabelle who runs to show Jake and Georgia what she found. 

“Wow I bet that’s been in the water for a long time”, you hear Jake say. You smile as Annabelle runs to put it in the truck and comes back to look some more. Annabelle grins at you then proceeds to splash you with water. You fake a look of shock and start to splash her back and before you know it you’re both soaking wet laughing at how ridiculous you both look. “Well good thing it’s hot so our clothes will dry out”, you say. 

Jake watches as you splash and play with Annabelle while he watches Georgia. Georgia turned and splashed him while he was too mesmerized by you. “Now you’ve done it”, Jake laughs. It pulls your attention as Jake lightly splashes Georgia. “It looks like Uncle Jake is picking on someone smaller than him. I think we should rescue your sister”, you say. “CHARGE!”, Annabelle yells. You both run towards Jake and Georgia and as Annabelle helps Georgia you collide with Jake taking you both down in a huge splash. 

Georgia is squealing with laughter as Annabelle holds her stomach laughing. Jake looks up at you as he smiles. “I have you now”, you say dramatically. “Is that so”, Jake says with a raised brow and smirk. Confusion crosses your face until Jake reaches up and starts to tickle you. You screamed and tried to get away, but it didn't work. “Run.. save your…selves”, you cry out between laughs. “Come on Georgia, let's get him!”, Annabelle cries. 

A moment later and you’re both getting splashed. Finally the girls get tired and head for the bank hand in hand. You look down at Jake as he is trying to catch his breath from laughing. “I thought I was done for”, he jokes. “Oh I don’t know I think you would have managed”, you giggle. He watches you for a moment then pulls you down for a quick kiss. “I think we should get the girls back to the house”, he says. 

All four of you squeeze into the truck and set off for the house. Jake drives to Evelynn and Coltons house to get the girls into dry clothes. “(Y/N) will you help Georgia get dressed? I'm going to make some sandwiches for lunch”, Jake says. “Yeah come on Georgia”, you say. She automatically holds her hands up and you pick her up. Jake watches you pick Georgia up and boop her nose as she giggles, and he loves that you are so comfortable with his nieces. Jake can’t help but wonder how you would be when his nephew comes into the world. 

You helped dress Georgia and when you made your way back to Jake Annabelle was talking to him. You stopped to listen to what they were saying. “When are you and (Y/N) gonna’ get married and have babies?”, Annabelle asked nonchalantly. Jake panicked when he saw you standing there with a wide smile on your face. “Well if your uncle Jake doesn’t mess up we might some day”, you said. 

Jake relaxed but continued to watch you as a soft smile graced his face. “Sanwick sanwick”, Georgia called. You laughed as she made grabby hands at the plate that Jake had in his hands stacked high with sandwiches. “Not yet Georgia we’re gonna’ go back to our house”, Jake stated. He wrapped the plate in cling wrap then headed towards the truck much to Georgia’s dismay. Once back at the house Jake and you were staying in, that's when Jake put the plate on the table for everyone. 

About an hour later Evelynn and Colton came back to get the kids. Georgia clung to your leg and cried not wanting to leave. “Georgia I’ll see you later I promise”, you tell her. Evelynn picks her up as she apologizes to you. You let her know it was okay and that they could bring the girls at any point in time. Jake and you waved as they headed back to the main house. “Now what?”, you asked. “Well we can go to the pond and go fishin”, he told you. “I’d like that”, you said. 

Jake took you to the pond and you started setting up your reel. The fish were biting as you both sat on the tailgate. “What did you put under the seat earlier?”, you asked. “You’ll have to wait and see”, Jake told you. You fished until the sun started to set in the sky, and that’s when Jake went over to put some logs in a tipi type style. He got a fire started then grabbed a blanket from under the truck seat and sat it close to the fire. “I figured we could watch the sunset and then stay out a little tonight”, Jake told you.

You smiled and joined him by the fire where you both watched the sunset. “This is so beautiful”, you tell him as the sky is lit by oranges, pinks and purples. “It is but not as gorgeous as you”, he tells you. You look at him then lean in to share some long intimate kisses. Jake leaned back, taking you with him as you tucked yourself into his side. The stars came out and it was so clear you could see the milky way. 

You watch as a shooting star goes across the sky and make a wish as you snuggle closer to Jake. “You know I never expected to ever bring someone here”, he voiced. “Whatt’a mean by that?”, you questioned. “I just don’t bring people out here often”, he whispers. You want to push him further, but decide against it. You started to yawn as the day with girls started to catch up with you. Jake smiled, noticing the sleepy look on your face and called it a night as he got up to put the fire out.

When you made it back to the house you and Jake showered and lay down for bed. It didn’t take long at all for you both to fall asleep. The peace of the night was shattered when you woke up screaming and falling out of the bed. Jake was awake in an instant and checked you over as you started to sob. “It’s alright darlin’ I’m here I’ve got ya”, he stated. He sat holding your head against his chest as you tried to breathe. “Listen to my voice darlin’ just breathe in slowly and out”, he talked you through it. 

When your breathing regulated he took your face into his hands and thumbed away the remaining tears. “You want to talk about it?”, he questioned. You nod as he leads you to the kitchen looking through the cabinets until he finds chamomile tea. You watched him make the tea as you decided to share why you were screaming. “I was in a relationship with a great guy. Well at first he seemed like a great guy even though I felt like something was off with him. My friends adored him and got along with him great. Then he wanted to marry me and I felt it was too sudden and then he started showing signs of abusive behavior. The first time he hit me I figured it was my fault because I yelled at him”, you explained.

Jake’s jaw twitched as his blood boiled at the thought of anyone ever raising a hand at a woman, especially you. “Then it got to the point where I told him I was leaving. That very night I told him I was leaving in the morning. He put a pillow over my face and tried to suffocate me. I filed a restraining order, but it didn’t really help then that’s when I told Bradley and he told me to come out to stay with him. Every so often I have a dream where he tries to or does kill me”, you finish. 

“Well good thing you are somewhere he can’t find you huh”, he says. “Yeah”, you reply, remembering that he knew you were staying in Bradley and Jake’s apartment. You weren’t ready to tell him yet, and you're pretty sure that by putting your gun in your ex’s face scared him off. You drank the tea when it cooled and Jake walked you back to the bedroom. He pulled you in close and kissed the top of your head. “I want you to know I will never raise a hand at you”, he promised.

That’s how you fell asleep tucked as close as possible to him. He was glad that you felt safe enough with him to share your experience with him. He was falling deeper and deeper in love with you and to be honest it scared the shit out of him. The last time he let someone this close it ended badly, but you would never do the things his ex had done. He listened to your breathing for a while until he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Not waking up until noon the next day was amazing. Jake was out and you watched him for a moment, but when you moved you brushed against his morning wood. A naughty little thought popped into your head at that moment and you decided you were going to go through with it. You slid under the covers and pulled him out of his boxers. No hesitation you took the head of his cock into your mouth and licked the underside of his head.

Jake groaned as you continued and took him further into your mouth sucking hard. “Holy shit (Y/N)”, you heard him as he woke. You hummed which only intensified what you were currently doing. He bucked his hips up and hit the back of your throat, but you took it like a champ. “Darlin’ I’m gonna cum”, he rasped. You quickened your pace as a string of curses flew from his lips. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”, he continued. You stopped abruptly and he threw the blanket back to see you grinning up at him.

“Come on then baby take what you want”, you told him. You opened your mouth and his hands automatically went to your hair. “You sure darlin’?”, he gasped. You hummed your approval as you took him back into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks. Jake controlled your movements as he thrust up into your mouth. He was falling apart and you knew he was close because of how often he was twitching. You relaxed your throat as he pulled you all the way down on him. “Ohhhhhh fuck”, he cursed as he came. 

He relaxed his muscles and you looked up at him as he tried to catch his breath. You sucked hard and moved causing him to shudder as you continued your small ministrations. “Nonono no more (Y/N)! Too… Ah..sensitive”, he ground out. You pulled off with a pop making him shudder again and that’s when he pulled you up to kiss him. It was hot and fast as he flipped you onto your back and got between your legs. He pulled your underwear off and tossed them somewhere in the room.

He gave you no warning as he dove in to suck your clit into his mouth. You cried out as he continued his onslaught of eating you out. He would alternate between kissing licking and sucking your clit into his mouth. “Jake ohshitplease I’m getting close!”, you screamed. He smirked knowing what he was doing to you. He then stopped what he was doing and slipped two fingers into you.

“Holy shit darlin’ your so fucking wet. Gonna’ make you feel good sweetheart”, he groaned. He started pumping his fingers as he sucked on your clit and flicking it with his tongue. “Shitshitshit Jake I’m OHFUCK!”, YOU YELLED. You came hard and you felt a rush of wetness as your vision went black and little sparks of light showed behind your eyelids. You finally came down from your high and looked down at Jake who was still licking you clean until you pushed him away from being overstimulated. When he pulled away you saw the wetness coating his chin then you could feel it on the sheets below you.

“Damn darlin’ I think that’s the fastest I have ever made anyone squirt before”, he said. He grinned as you seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry I didn’t know what was happening”, you said. “No don’t apologize that was hot as fuck”, he told you. “We should get ready for the day. We need a shower”, Jake mused. You had never had a man make you cum that fast before. While you both showered you shared lazy kisses. “Maybe next time we can go the full eight second ride”, you joked. 

“Yeah maybe”, he responded. When you both made it out of the shower and got dressed there was a knock on the door. It was Colton, Annabelle and Georgia wanting to know if you all wanted to go horse riding to bring in some cows. You both agreed and couldn’t wait to see Jake ride a horse. You both rode in the back of the truck on the way to the barn. When you saw the barn and all the horses you felt like you were in heaven. Jake loved seeing you light up over the horses and Colton nodded to him. He would never tell you that he set this up on purpose. It would be his little secret.

[selfloverrrrrr]

Gambling Night~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, gambler Gojo, maid reader, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Toji Fushiguro. The well known gambler in his town. He's known for playing gambling and never losing. He made so much money by gambling. One day he was at the bar chilling with his friends and drinking alcohol. A man came inside the bar.

Tall, White hair, blue eyes, handsome.... He took a sit on the other side of Toji's table. "So ... you're Toji Fushiguro?" The guy asked. Toji smirk. "you know me?... yes I am." Toji said. The man chuckled. "Yeah... heard you always win in gambling?... so wanna play with you" he said.

"you sure?.... cause don't blame me if you lose your property in it" Toji said confidentiality. "Oh don't think about it..." The man said with a smirk. The game started. They bet on a huge amount. $100000. Time passed and what was the result? Toji Fushiguro lost!

Toji couldn't believe it.... it's the first time he lost.... He looked at the man who was already smirking at him. "Okay... let's play another one" Toji said. "If I play I want a huge bet...but you'll lose that's why...no" the man said. "Tell me what you want to bet on? I'll bet anything " Toji said. "Okay then I'll bet on my all property.... Will you?" The white haired man asked.

"fine" Toji replied. The game started again. And at the end again Toji lost?! Now he can't believe anything....is he dreaming?! That man infront of him just made him broke from a millionaire?! "Told you" that man said and laughed coldly.

"Mr Gojo.... Mr Geto said he can't come for the agreement today... he'll come tomorrow" a man beside the white haired man said. "What did you say?... what's his name?" Toji asked. "Mr Gojo.... Gojo Satoru" that man's assistant said. Toji knows that name.... Gojo Satoru is the well known mafia and gambler...but he didn't knew it was him...or else he would never accepted his offer....

Y/n's POV

Nobara and I planned for a party night. I wore a tight black bodycon dress whose middle part was ribbon. Then we went to the club. We walked in the club. Loud music playing. "Hey y/n?... isn't that Mr Fushiguro... I mean your dad?" Nobara said. "What?" I said and looked at the direction she said.

"Again playing gambling I guess " I said and rolled my eyes. "He loves it so much?" Nobara asked. "Yeah .....more than anything....he can sell me for it too" I said and we both laughed. "Lemme talk with him for a second " I said. "Yeah sure " Nobara replied.

I went towards Toji's table. "Dad." I called him. "Oh hey... you here?" He said with a hiding emotion. "Yeah... came with Nobara... you okay?... your voice doesn't seem okay" I said. "No he's not" a voice said. I looked forward and saw a man with white hair and blue eyes. A smirk on his face and he was eyeing my body up and down shamelessly as if I wasn't there.

"EVERYTHING IS FINE" Toji said. I know he was hiding something but I didn't force him to say. "Okay... I'm going then" I said. "Bye..." The white haired man said. I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah bye" Toji replied and I went from there.

End of y/n's POV

Toji looked back at Gojo. "Who was that?" Gojo asked. "My daughter" Toji replied. "I see... anyways what were we talking about? Oh yeah... your property" Gojo said and chuckled. Toji looked away. "Want it back?" Gojo asked. Toji looked at him again. "I'll give you back " Gojo said with a grin.

"but in one condition" Gojo said. "What?" Toji asked. "I want your daughter" Gojo said and leaned back on his chair. Toji was silent. "Thik...or else be broke to the end of your life" Gojo said. "No no wait..." Toji said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Fine " Toji said. Gojo's grin widened.

Y/n's POV

Me and Nobara were talking and drinking. Suddenly someone came there. "Hey... you look preety" a boy with brown hair said to Nobara. "Thanks" she replied. I could tell that was going somewhere so I smirked at Nobara and went to a side. Someone came there to me.

"ma'am someone is calling you" the guy said. "Me?...who?" I asked. "The man from the gambling table earlier" the guy reply. I thought it's Toji. "Ok .. where's he?" I asked. "Come with me... I'll show you" he said. "Okay " I replied and started following him.

He took me to the second floor towards the VIP rooms. "Are you sure he's here?" I asked. "Yes ma'am" the guy replied. Then he stopped. "Here" he said. "In this room?" I asked. He nodded. Weird. Toji never stays in VIP rooms of any bar. I opened the door anyways.

I went inside and closed the door. Couldn't see anyone there. "DAD???? YOU CALLED ME HERE???" I called. Suddenly a voice replied. "Tsk tsk....not dad.... daddy called you here" the voice said. I looked towards the voice. I saw that white haired man on the gambling table.

I really don't wanna talk with this pervert who was scanning my whole body with his eyes earlier. I didn't reply to him and turned around to go out of the room. But the door wasn't opening?! "What the hell?!" I said. "Aw you're trying to run away from your daddy?" He said.

He was now standing so close to me. "who the fuck are you and what the hell do you want???!!!!" I said. He smirked. "I'm Gojo Satoru" he said. Gojo Satoru?! The well known mafia? I was frozen in my spot. " And what do I want? Well darling... Your dad lost you as a bet in the gambling.... that means you're mine" he whispered.

"y-you are lying.." I said. "I'm not..." Gojo said. "P-Please open the door" I requested him. "I don't think I'll" he replied and grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. I was pressed against his chest. "P-Please " I begged. "Your work is to obey not demand" he said.

"and now obey my order.... take off your clothes" he said. I struggled but he didn't let me go. "No...let me go.... please" I struggled more but his grip was too strong. "Are you gonna take my orders like a good girl or I have to force you?" He asked. "P-Please let me go " I begged.

"I'm gonna ask you last time....Are you gonna take my orders like a good girl or I have to force you?" He asked again this time more seriously. "I don't want it... P-Please " I almost cried. He smirked. "Fine.... you want the hard way...." He said with a smirk.

He pressed me more close to him. I could feel the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the back of my head and whispered "hesitating to take off your clothes when you came to a bar dressed like a whore? When I saw you there all I was thinking about suck your brea-" before he could complete I slapped him.

"get away from me!" I pushed him away and ran towards the door. But the door was still locked. "Fuck... please open the door!!!" I shouted and banged on the door. Before I could realise Gojo came behind me and grabbed my hair and pulled it. I cried out of pain. "Bitch I was being soft.... how dare you slapped me????" He said with grinded teeth.

"please I wanna go home" I cried out. He dragged me towards the bed and threw me on it. And slapped me. "Now shut up" he shouted. I grabbed my cheek out of pain. He grabbed the middle of my dress and was about to tear it. "P-Please...." I begged. He slapped me again. "What did I said?" He said. I fell silent.

"your dad lost you....to obey my orders....not to be a bitch.... understand?" He said then tore off my clothes. I was just in my pantie. He looked at my boobs with lust in his eyes and didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation.

Then he took off my pantie."you look better without it" he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, you were imagining your master doing dirty things with you ~". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " G-gojo no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. Why was this happening with me?! He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was liking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself.

With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside..." I moaned. He looked down at me. " Call me daddy.... say that it feels so good... and maybe I won't cum inside" He said while thrusting. I sobbed looking at him. He spanked me"come on...you can do better " he said. "I-It feels so good... daddy" I whispered to him. He kissed me and whispered"good girl". But he didn't pull out. His thrust became harder. "W-wait...you said you'll pull out" I said. "I said maybe" he whispered with a smirk. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.

"you know I'm lucky that I chose to come here and play gambling with your dad.... I got my whore" he whispered grabbing my face and then chuckled.

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[reigningqueenofwords]

You'll Be Back

Pairing: past Dean x Reader, Reader x Mitchell (OC) Word count: 2,651 Warnings: Physical abuse, mentions of verbal abuse Request:  @arrowenchantress could be like, husband does something stupid leading to reader and son moving in with Winchesters, Dean helps reader and son, reader reluctantly lets him back in, they start to fall in love, find out Dean started to have a crush on her after prom that’s why he was being so weird, then sweet and fluffy family together ending? 🤣 just a thought

Read on AO3

Part 2 of It’s Not Mine

You hung your head, letting out a sigh. “Babe, I can’t just tell Dean to stay away.” You told your husband. “I’m not rushing to be friends with him, but I won’t be rude.” Mitchell currently hated the idea of Dean being near Daniel. John had gotten hurt, and couldn’t work anymore. Dean moved back home and got a job. Which meant that when you brought Daniel to see your dad and John, you’d see Dean. 

“I just don’t like it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Dean walked away from you when you were pregnant. Didn’t even come around to find out if the baby was his, and I don’t feel he deserves to be anywhere near him.” There was no way that he was backing down from this. 

“If Dean happens to be at John’s when I bring Danny over, then he’s there. It’s his house, too. He lives there. What, do you want me to tell him to get out of his own house when Danny sleeps over there?” Did he not see how wrong that was? “Danny loves those weekends at John’s.” 

Mitchell rolled his eyes. “I know he does, but I’m not comfortable about any of this.” 

You stared at him. “What’s this really about? It doesn’t make sense that you’re getting so annoyed about Dean possibly being around Danny. Is this because I didn’t change Danny’s name when we got married?” You asked.

“That doesn’t help matters any.” He shrugged. “You changed your name, but not his. Are you attached to it?” 

“You’re joking, right? I didn’t change it because I want that to be Danny’s choice when he’s older.” You defended yourself. “Nothing more.” 

“Are you sure you don’t still have feelings for Dean?” 

“Where did that even come from? We went to his senior prom as friends and slept together once. It’s not like we had an actual relationship.” He knew exactly what happened, so you couldn’t understand where this was coming from. 

Mitchell shook his head. “I don’t want him thinking that he can try anything with you when you’re near him. I don’t want to get told that you’ll be having another kid with him, especially when we haven’t even gotten to the point where we plan to have one.”

“Do you not trust me? We’ve been together 2 years, married for one of those.” Hearing him say this hurt you. You’d never given him any reason to not trust you. Then something clicked. You schooled your features. “Is this one of those things where the actual cheater is super worried about their partner cheating?” You asked calmly. When he looked away quickly, it was like a slap in the face. 

“We’re talking about you and him.” He pushed. 

“Don’t you dare try to get out of this.” You seethed, thankful Daniel was at your father’s. “Who is she?” You couldn’t believe this. “Mitchell…” 

He sagged. “Kendra.” He told you. 

“The Kendra you work with?” You asked, knowing exactly who she was. “How long has this been going on?!” How long had you been blind? How long had your husband been cheating on you? It felt like you could literally feel your heart breaking. What about you attracted men that would hurt you like this? 

“Almost a year and a half. She’s pregnant, and due in a month.” 

“Jesus Christ.” You blinked away the tears. You couldn’t believe this! 

When he saw you walking towards the backdoor, he looked confused. “Where are you going?” He asked, angry that you would walk away from him. 

“To get some fresh air. I want a divorce. I’ll talk to my dad about me staying with him when I go get Danny in the morning.” You sniffed. 

“Let’s talk about this.” He stopped you, gripping your arms. 

You tried to pull free. “You’re hurting me!” You were used to him calling you names, or making remarks, but he’d never put his hands on  you. “Mitchell!”

He glared at you. “Sit down, now. We can talk about this.” 

“No!” You snapped. The last thing that you wanted to do was sit down and talk to your husband about him cheating on you. His hand met your face, and you tasted blood. 

John was confused to see you calling him. Most of the time you just called to talk about Danny. “Hello.” He answered. 

“John?” You snuffed, making him sit up in bed. 

“Y/N? What happened? What’s going on?” He felt his heart hammering in his chest. 

“Can you come get me? I’d call my dad, but he’s got Danny.” You told him, your voice low. “Please?” 

You were breaking his heart. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where’s Mitchell?" “He’s in the living room. I locked myself in the bathroom.” You explained quickly. “Use your spare key to get in.” You’d worry about getting your things while he was at work the next day. You and your son would not stay one more night in that house.

Dean was confused when he was woken up to thudding on the stairs. Getting up, he went to see John pulling on his boots. “Dad? What’s going on?” He yawned. 

“Y/N just called me in tears asking me to go get her. I’ll be back.” He told him, grabbing his coat and keys. 

It was like he got cold water dumped on him. “Wait, what?” He asked. “Is she okay? Is Danny okay?” 

“I don’t know, and he’s next door. Safe. Make a run to the store. Get her some fruit candy, some Sprite, and some wine. Moscato is her favorite.” With that, he rushed to his truck. That would keep Dean busy, and it would be something for you to have when you got that. Maybe help you relax a bit. 

Dean stood there, wondering what happened to you. Did you and Mitch have a fight? But why would you need John to go get you? Could you not drive? Shaking his head, he went to get dressed to get you what your dad suggested. Clearly John knew you well.

“Y/N?!” John called out, making you quickly unlock the door. Rushing out of your downstairs bathroom, you went right to him. Mitchell shot you a look as you hugged the older man. “Jesus, sweetheart.” He felt like either ripping Mitchell limb from limb or crying. 

“Can we just go?” You wanted out of that house. 

“Let’s go.” He put his arm around you gently. 

“You’ll be back.” Mitchell said, sipping a beer. 

“No, I won’t.” You said softly. “Thanks for coming, John.” You said once you were outside. 

John opened the truck door for you. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could be there for you.” Once he was also in the truck, he waited until he was driving before talking again. “Has he ever hit you before?” He asked, hoping like hell you hadn’t been dealing with this for long. 

You shook your head. “No, tonights the first time. Usually it’s just name calling and stuff.” You gingerly wiped under your eyes. “He was pissed about me and Danny being near Dean. I couldn’t understand what his issue was, why he wouldn’t trust me.” You explained, heart breaking all over. “Turns out he’s been cheating for almost a year and a half, and she’s due with his baby next month.” You sobbed. “What is wrong with me that I attract men that will just break my heart?” 

His stomach sank. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Not a damn thing.” He said gently. “I’m not making excuses for Dean, either. I think he’s kicking himself for what he did and how he acted. Mitchell had us all fooled.” He had liked Mitchell. Thought he was a good guy, and was good for you and Danny. 

“Apparently Mitchell thinks I have feelings for Dean because Danny has his last name.” You leaned your head back and closed your eyes. “He couldn’t understand why I didn’t change Danny’s last name when I changed mine.” 

“Did he even ever ask to adopt Danny?” 

Sighing, you looked out the window. “No, he didn’t.” You were beyond thankful for that now. “At least Danny won’t ever see him again, and Danny is young enough that this won’t really effect him much. Or, I hope it won’t.”

“Kids are tough.” He assured you. “Dean was 4 when Mary died.” You knew who Mary was, but hadn’t heard all that much about her. Neither Dean nor John spoke of her that much, and you could understand why. “I did my best to raise those boys while mourning her. I made mistakes, which you know. You were there for some of them. And, even with Dean being an ass to you, he’s turned out okay.” He knew he wasn’t perfect, and never claimed to be. “Danny is young. And he has you as his mom. He’ll be okay.” 

You gave him a small smile. “We also have you, my dad, and Sam.” You didn’t want him to think he wasn’t having a positive impact on him. “We’re lucky.” Even if Sam was away at school, the pair of you were still friends. You texted, and often sent him pictures of Danny.

Dean was sitting in the dining room with a cup of coffee when he heard the front door open. He got up and rushed to the hall, stopping when he saw you. “Y/N…” 

“Hi, Dean.” You said awkwardly, slipping off your slippers. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked, moving closer to you. He could see the split lip, the start of a shiner, and some bruising on the side of your neck. “Who did this to you?” 

“Let’s get you a drink. I’ll talk to him.” John spoke up, not wanting you to have to repeat everything. “I had Dean get you some stuff while I was getting you.” He explained, leading you towards the kitchen. 

You nodded, following him. Sitting down, you watched him open a bottle of your favorite wine. “Thank you.” You said softly as you took the glass he handed you. 

After he slid a bag of your favorite candy to you, he went to tell Dean what happened in the living room. “Apparently, he thinks she has feelings for you because of Danny’s last name.” He sighed, running his hand over his face. “He didn’t like the idea of her and Danny near you. Didn’t trust her. Turns out he’s been cheating on her for almost a year and a half, and the other woman is pregnant. Due next month.” He shook his head. “They’ve only been together two years, married one.” 

Dean clenched his jaw. “Has he always beat her?” He asked. 

“No, tonight was the first time. He was verbally abusive, though.” He sat down, hanging his head. “I had no idea. She blames herself.” 

“What?” How could you blame yourself for your husband hitting you? 

“She asked me what was wrong with her that she attracts men that will break her heart.” He hoped that in time you’d heal, but he knew that would take time. “I’m just thankful Danny wasn’t home to see that. I don’t know if he heard the things Mitch said to her, though.” He hoped like hell he hadn’t. 

Dean felt sick. He was part of the reason you blamed yourself. He didn’t think you’d want to see him right then, so he sat on the couch and leaned back. “I’m glad she had you to call.”

“Me, too.” He nodded a bit. 

Hearing movement, they looked over. “Do you mind if I take a shower before crawling into Danny’s bed?” You asked, wanting to wash that night off of you. 

“Of course.” John agreed. 

“Do you want a pair of my sweats and a shirt to sleep in?” Dean offered. “This way you can be comfortable?” You were in jeans, and knew from experience those weren’t the best to sleep in.” 

You thought about it for a moment. “Sure. I plan to go mine and Danny’s things tomorrow. I’ll wash your shirt and sweats to give back when we get back to my dad’s.” 

“Want me to go with you, sweetheart?” John offered. “In case he’s there?” 

“He has work tomorrow, but I think I’d feel safer that way.” Like you’d turn down having a bodyguard as a just in case. “Go about lunch time? He usually has to be in about 10 in the morning.” It rarely changed. 

Dean handed you the softest sweats he owned and a shirt. “No rush getting them back. Worry about getting out of that house first, okay?” He didn’t want you to worry about something as trivial as getting his clothes back to him. “Does your dad work tomorrow?” Would Danny have to go with you to get your things?

“Yeah, he does.” 

“Want me to take a sick day? I can watch him here while you and dad do that.” As much as he wanted to offer to take you, he didn’t want to risk setting Mitchell off with you around. If Mitchell had an issue with him, there’s no telling what he would do. 

You glanced at John, who gave you a comforting smile and nod to let you know he felt it was okay. “Sure.” You agreed. “I’ll bring him over after he eats lunch. He might nap, he might not. He hasn’t napped consistently since he was a toddler.” He’d been so small and squishy. You missed it some days, but loved the little boy he was growing into. 

“Is he allergic to anything?” Dean didn’t want to risk anything. 

“No, he’s not.” You shook your head. “But, thank you for the clothes. I’m going to go shower and crawl into bed. Night.” You said softly before disappearing upstairs. 

Dean watched you go and let out a breath. 

You shut the bathroom door gently before leaning against it. You’d fought the tears so hard, but couldn’t any more. At 22, you had a 5 year old with a man who didn’t even claim him, and your marriage of just a year was over. This was not where you expected to be! You couldn’t, and wouldn’t, regret your son. He was your whole world, but when you were 16 you’d dreamt of college. Of finding your passion. Of finding lifelong friends. One day getting married and having kids. 

Moving to turn on the shower, you hoped that this crying wore you out enough to sleep. You didn’t want to lie awake, the events of that night repeating over and over in your head.

John made his way to bed a few minutes after you went to shower, and hated hearing you cry like that. It wasn’t fair at all. 

While he did that, Dean was lying awake on the pullout couch. One hand was behind his head, the other was on his stomach. He felt guilty. Had he not said what he did, had he not taken off, had he stepped up to be a dad, and had he not been a complete ass…you would have never been in this spot. You wouldn’t have married an abusive prick. You wouldn’t have bruises on you. If he could go back in time and slap himself upside the head, he would. That just wasn’t possible.

Once you’d dried off and pulled on the borrowed clothes, you made your way to Danny’s room. You were thankful John opted to get him a twin bed and slap sides on it so he didn’t roll off. You left the door cracked and shuffled over to the bed. Looking around, you smiled softly. There were a few pictures of Danny and John around the room, a couple of Danny and Sam, and toys your son loved. It didn’t take you long to fall asleep once your head was on the pillow.

[specialagentlokitty]

Carlisle x reader - the peace of you

Hello, could I request your 2024 prompt number 3 with Carlisle X fem Reader? Maybe the reader is immortal and has lost her family/friends/lover and had been suffering with loneliness and abuse until she met Carlisle and his family? Because he's a vamp and he knows what it's like to outlive people? And Edward can hear how happy she is around his adoptive dad - Anon 💜

3: “He/she/they carry more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. He/she/they walked through hell a thousand times.” “Why are you telling me this?” “Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in his/her’s/their eyes is when he/she/they saw you.”

Sitting in your shop, you rested your feet on the chair opposite you, flicking through some of the books you had delivered while a few people wondered the shop.

The door went, and the bell sounded.

“Afternoon.” You called.

“Hey, have you seen Edward?”

You glanced up at the teenager unimpressed, a straight looking on your face.

“I’m not his keeper, I don’t keep track of all the vampires in the area Bella. If you can’t find your boyfriend that’s not my issue.”

She furrowed her brows a little.

“Seriously? You always know where people are.”

“I’m a bounty hunter, I know where people are when they’ve got a bounty, Edward doesn’t, so, if you’re not here to buy something go away.”

“Just tell me.”

You narrowed your eyes at her and she shuffled back a little, making her way towards the doors before she left.

You didn’t like humans, but you had to live among them, and you especially didn’t like her.

So ready to just throw away her human life, everything she had just for a boy she met.

It annoyed you.

A few seconds later and the bell went again, and you grumbled.

“I already told you I don’t know where he is.”

“Well, that would be good to know except I’ve already found the person I was looking for.”

You set your book down and stood up, walking around the desk to stand in front of it as the other vampire walked around.

He smiled softly at you and you gave a tiny one back.

“What can I do for you Carlisle? You’re not my usual clientele.”

“No, I’m not here about a bounty, I was wondering if you had any of these.”

He handed you a list and you looked through, nodding to yourself.

“Yeah, I’ve got them. Do you want me to bring them to yours?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you so much.”

You smiled at him, setting the list on your desk and you glanced at him before turning away.

“Yeah, I’ll be around later that’s no problem. How is everything?”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“Honestly? It’s all over the place, but I can’t do anything about it, he loves her, we need to protect that.”

“Even if it means putting yourself in danger?”

“Everybody has someone, Bella is the someone Edward has, it’s important we protect that.”

You gave a small shrug.

“Maybe, but maybe it isn’t worth it.”

“I know you don’t fully agree with the way we do things, but I am really grateful for everything you do to help.”

“Don’t worry about it, you should go, I’ll sort these.”

Carlisle nodded, glancing at you one last time before he left.

The moment you came into town he was smitten with you, but he was finding it hard to grow close to you.

You kept everybody at arms length, you made it clear that you were by yourself, you did things your way with your own rules, and there wasn’t much they could do about it.

You didn’t hunt on their grounds, you ran your shop just outside their territory, but sometimes if they came to you for help you would help.

You were like a box of mysteries, just then he think he has you figured out there’s something new there that surprises him.

Later that night you turned up at their house with the box of books, and you carried it upstairs, setting it down on the counter and began to take them out.

You were talking to Rosalie and Alice about them, explaining what they were about and what was in them, and Carlisle stood across the room watching you.

“Why not ask her on a date?” Emmett asked.

Carlisle shook his head.

“I could never do that.”

“Yes you could, and you deserve it.” Edward said.

“She isn’t exactly the most social person, there is just no way she would agree, I think I would rather try be friends.”

Edward glanced at his adoptive father before looking at you.

You glanced at Carlisle, and all the noise Edward heard in your head just seemed to stop, then when you looked away it picked up again.

“She carry’s more anger and pain then the whole universe combined, I can see it. Betrayal, hurt, deception, heartache, they’ve been through it all. She walked through hell a thousand times.”

Carlisle turned to Edward, his back towards you.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Edward smiled a little, gesturing to you with his head.

“Because the only time I’ve ever seen true peace in her eyes is when she saw you.”

Carlisle turned back around to face you, and the moment you connected eyes with him you smiled.

“I think it’s worth a chance.”

With that, Edward left, and Carlisle walked over to help you, all the others quickly leaving.

“You seem to enjoy being around them.” He said.

“It’s nice knowing you guys get the whole immortality thing, and I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not.”

“I understand that, it does get exhausting after a while.”

You nodded your head, resting your arms on the counter.

“At least when you’re human you know everything stops when you die, as a vampire you still have to live with all that pain from your human life and more. You have to do it alone.”

“You don’t have to.”

You turned to him, furrowing your brows a little.

“You can still find people, have a family, friends to support you.”

You scoffed a little.

“Nobody wants to be around a vampire who’s bounty hunter.”

Carlisle smiled softly, turning fully to face you.

“I do.”

You stood back up, looking at him utterly confused.

“I want to be around you, I would like to be with you. You’ve spent so long by yourself that you’ve forgetting life still has beautiful moments, even for a vampire, I want you to see that it still does. I want to see you smile (Y/N).”

“Carlisle…”

“If you don’t want that then it’s okay, I hope we can stay as friends but the offer is there, just a drink, that’s all. Nothing more unless that is what you want.”

You stared at him, and he could see the little spark in your eyes that was there when you saw him.

Usually you held a cold and callous look, but when you looked at him it was with nothing but pure softness, fondness.

“You don’t have to be alone..” he whispered.

“People will talk.”

Carlisle reached out, taking your hand in his.

“Then let them, I want you around, I know everybody else here wants you around as well.”

You smiled, looking away.

“I haven’t been for a drink in a while, I cant even remember what I like.”

He chuckled.

“Well, I have plenty of options for you to chose from.”

He raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles before he let go.

“Take some time, think about it.”

“I will.”

You left a few moments later, his offer still running around in your head.

A life as a vampire wasn’t easy, and you thought there was nothing else too it, but you couldn’t lie when you said the world was definitely better when you were around Carlisle.

You didn’t have to think too much about his offer, you were going to accept, but you didn’t want to come across as too eager so you decided to wait before agreeing, and at least it would find you time to find something to wear.

Carlisle didn’t need Edward to tell him that you would agree to his offer, he could see it on your face, the pure happiness you had when he had asked.

He had a good feeling you would agree, and he couldn’t wait for you to tell him so he could see you again, because there was nothing in this world quite like you

[satoruyes]

co-parent bakugou .2

katsuki bakugou x nb reader (previous part)

(cw: smut, angst, kids, arguing, verbal abuse)

when bakugou comes back from his morning walk he goes into the kitchen to see raya over the stove cooking breakfast. “hey babe, goodmorning,” she turned to face him, “i'm sorry about last night; i was just upset.”

he nods and goes to their bedroom and gets undressed. raya, not being satisfied with his reaction, pauses breakfast and follows him up. she sneaks up behind him and runs her hand down his bare back. “i said i was sorry babe, you have to forgive me.” he turns around to face her.

“you know my dad doesn't like it when we argue.” he hated that. he hated it when she used her dads position as leverage. with rayas’ dad being the mayor and all; she’d grown to be a spoiled brat. sure he had the skill to be a pro-hero but maybe not the funds. his parents weren't exactly the richest in the world. so of course his wife offered to let her dad take care of it. just like that- pro-hero dynamite had his own agency.

he swallowed hard, some spit along with his pride and sighed, “yea, ‘m sorry bout last night. i wasn't in the best head space." raya smiled, and played with the waistband of his boxers. “it's okay lovebug, now just lay back and let me take care of you.” he stood there quietly and watched her. watching as she knelt down, pulling down his boxers as she did. taking his semi-hard dick into her hands then licking the tip while working her hand up and down his full length. she kind of falters at noticing he isn't getting hard as quickly as he usually does. “did you jerk off already today or something?” he lies and shakes his head yes as she stands up. “or maybe you just can't get hard for me anymore.” she says jokingly, and katsuki forces a laugh. unsure of what was causing the problem.

__

by the time you get up it's nearly 1pm, woken up by your antsy little toddler who you let sleep in your room for night. you get up then go do your morning routine. (accompanied by your curious toddler of course) when you finish both of your morning routines you go towards the kitchen to make your cereals of choice. you go up to your room to grab your phone and see a text from bakugou. “When can i see my kid again” you sigh and reply telling him he can come over today. he likes the message and lets you know that his wife will be tagging along as well. great.

they get to your house around 3pm. you welcome them in and take them to the living area. bakugou mentions he brought something over for hana and went back to the car. leaving you and raya alone. you sit there kind of quietly while hana is wearing headphones watching her tablet. raya observes the girl, “hm.. are you even sure its his? she looks a little.. slow,” she says nonchalantly. you stare in disbelief at her, shocked she’d even say that straight to your face. “excuse me?”

“its a cute baby of course, kats’ genes really tried their best but..” she pauses “i can just imagine how pretty our baby girl is gonna be- you know with that being said, i'd really appreciate it if you kind of backed off. he needs to be an attentive father to our baby, not yours. i don't need to be worried about some desperate baby momma.’’ you scoff, you had enough of this wench disrespecting you and your child in your own home. without thinking you end up over your coffee table landing a smack across her face. she yelps in pain and hold her face like it was the most precious thing ever. “what you are not about to do is come up in my house and disrespect me and my daughter. you can get the fuck out.”

she immediately ran outside to katsuki, leaving you alone with a dumbstruck hana. you ignored the little girl's curious expression and just simply ran your hands through your hair. it wasn't too long after before you heard daunting footsteps headed your way. “what the fuck did you do? yer gonna let me bring my wife up in here just to disrespect ‘er? why the fuck of all people are you calling her a tramp ‘nd sayin she got sloppy seconds? of all people. i'm trying real hard to be in my daughter's life but yer being a real bitch about it.” without letting you say anything he drops a gift bag and leaves. leaving you once again, and leaving you speechless.

__

later that night you drop your daughter off with her grandparents and go see your old friend, eijirou kirishima. you two usually caught up at least once a month. drink a little, laugh a little, indulge a little. he's been such a great friend, so supporting and always there for you. even occasionally watching hana for you. but today you two are all alone, and both a little too drunk for either of your liking. it starts off with friendly peckish little neck kisses, short playful pecks on the lips. nothing you two haven't explored before.

but tonight something was different. you expressed to him how stressful things were today with what happened with katsukis wife. he told you he’d make you feel better and you just kind of brushed it off. but now it's hard to brush it off when he's knuckles deep inside of you, working his fingers deeper and deeper inside. you just throw your head back against his plush couch letting the pleasure take you away. “eijirou.. please,” you whine. he shoots you a toothy grin with half hooded eyes. “please what? you can use your words, i know you can.” you whine more while he works his fingers into your special spot. once you finish he pulls out grinning; leaving you blissed out with arousal apparent by his print visible.

he gets you a ride home, both too intoxicated to drive anywhere. he opens the door for you then hugs and kisses you goodnight. you get home and go to sleep.

when you wake up the next morning your head is pounding and your phone is blowing up. the most alarming test came from your mother

: “How could you be so stupid?”

: “Letting the press see you getting so personal with someone”

: “Theres photos of you and that Kirishima boy going around of you kissing”

you dont get why it was such a big deal. you didn't even care, with your parents being famous pro-heroes everything you've done since birth has been documented. it's tiring and after your daughter's birth you stopped caring. Doing whatever you wanted regardless of the paparazzi, but them following you over to kirishima's house was ridiculous. The second text you read was from bakugou;

: “Out of all of my friends you go for him?”

: “You didnt feel the need to tell me about this?”

: “Really ??? Eijirou? Has he been around Hana?”

you got kind of upset at his messages more than you did your mom. what did it matter to him, he doesnt get to control who you talked to. he’s not your boyfriend nor your dad. you leave him on read and you scroll through your twitter feed. filled with photos of you and kirishima kissing. “PRO-HERO MIYU and YUIKA SUZUKI CHILD CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH PRO-HERO RED RIOT” you sigh and almost turn your phone off but see another set of messages from bakugou, was he jealous?

[tommyshelbyswh0re]

the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby

summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?

trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.

angst

dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader

you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.

you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.

you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.

deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.

you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.

when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.

“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.

“huh?” he raised his brow

“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.

“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.

“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.

“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.

“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.

“never new tom had a daughter”

“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.

“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.

you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.

“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.

“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.

“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.

“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.

“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.

“you could say so yes” you replied.

“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.

“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.

“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.

for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.

“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.

you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.

the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.

“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.

a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.

“go easy” he sternly told you.

you glared at him.

from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.

“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.

“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.

“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.

“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.

“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.

“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.

“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.

“who?” tommy asked

“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.

“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.

“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.

“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.

just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.

on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.

the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.

you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.

“is that you y/n?” she smiled.

“hello” you suddenly felt shy.

“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.

“how have you been y/n?” she asked.

“good, i graduated school”

“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked

“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”

“why two jobs?” ada asked

“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”

“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded

“why would he?” you asked.

“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.

“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.

“yes”

“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.

“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.

“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked

“don’t have any” your shrugged.

“what about school friends?”

“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.

“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.

“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”

arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.

“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.

you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.

“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.

“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.

ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.

“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”

you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”

your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.

“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.

he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.

a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.

“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.

“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.

“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.

“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.

“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.

“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.

“i know” he nodded.

“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.

“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.

“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.

“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”

“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.

“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.

“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.

“its not really dinner talk is it.”

“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.

“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.

“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”

“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.

“you remember that?” he asked

“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”

“i am so sorry y/n”

“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed

“why did you come?” he asked.

“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”

“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.

“why?” you questioned

“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.

you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.

you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”

he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused

“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.

“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.

“okay.”

[pyroy3]

Compiling additional proof against Wilbur into one, easy to understand list.

I'm making a simple list that anyone can refer to when faced with doubts about Shelby's and other victims claims. I don't know if this will reach the right audience, or reach anyone at all, but i'd like to get it off my chest.

Why do I care so much? Because i've followed Wilbur since his day on the Jacksucksatlife channel. He had a great influence over me as a teenager, and it sucks that he was an asshole all along. I want to see him fail, that's all.

Main points are all in Shelby, Nikki, Minx and other creators' videos on him. These are just small details that are easily missed.

Wilbur being abusive towards his friends

The first video in particular really highlights the amount of power that Wilbur holds. "Tell them about how awful I am to you" seems like a dangerous thing to say as someone who is actually abusive, but it's likely that he knows he can get away with it. He doesn't expect anyone to call him out on his behaviour.

I think she has also mentioned the biting a few other times. This is pretty obvious proof that the biting was happening, and atleast got to the point of causing bruises.

A clip talking about how Wilbur threw Niki because she playfully said she was big and strong. His quick sentence "you were saying you were stronger than-" could either be him misremembering, deciding to ignore that detail, or literally saying that he interpreted her actions as claiming to be stronger than him. He says it was a "consensual throwing" but we already know how terrible he is with consent. TLDW: Niki said she was big and strong so Wilbur threw her "to assert dominance" (and show that he was stronger than her).

In Tommy's disneyland vlog, there is a short clip where Tommy playfully unties Wilbur's shoelaces and gets his hand stomped on. Thing like these flew under the radar because of their brotherly bond. You'd expect two young brothers to react like this, but not a grown man and his teenage friend. Tommy tells him that his finger got cut, and instead of apologizing, Wilbur says it was because Tommy was gonna untie his shoelaces. He essentially says that Tommy had it coming, that it was his fault he got hurt.

The biting behaviour wasn't exclusive to romantic partners. This is a clip of him biting Tommy's hand "for content", despite Tommy repeatedly shouting no. The biting isn't bad here, but it once again proves that this was something he genuinely did.

The story starts at 0:38. Here, Wilbur tells the story of how he helped Techno pick apples by gently throwing them so Techno could put them in the basket. Techno says that Wilbur is very bad at throwing. In response, Wilbur says that he threw an apple as hard as he could, aiming for his stomach. Instead, he accidentally hit the shoulder that his surgery was on. Anyone who's been hit in the stomach should know how painful it is. If Wilbur were to throw an apple has hard as he could at his stomach, it would seriously hurt. But he laughs it off. Wilbur once again claims that the person he hurt deserved it, because techno made fun of his throwing ability. I've heard that Techno's dad yelled at Wilbur for doing it, but even then, he still laughs about the story.

Wilbur's music and separating it from the artist

It's completely natural for a musician with a history of bad mental health to blame himself in his music. One of Wilbur's biggest inspirations, Crywank, have lots of songs about being a bad person. A symptom of depression is to believe you're a bad person. But as far as we know, Wilbur's music actually told the truth.

I can't find the tweet, but we also know that one of wilburs old friends(?) came out with the info that Lovejoy's song "concrete" was based on their experience, and the song explains Wilbur's neglectful behaviour.

You should know what Lovejoy's music is about. A lot of it is based on toxic relationships, being cheated on, being abused. It is a complete mockery of the people that he hurt. "Call me what you like" is clearly about being in an abusive relationship where his partner takes advantage of him and cheats on him. She forces him to "bump his head into every doorway she sees suitable for them to go through". Not that he knows what the song he wrote is about though, since he couldn't recall a single thing about the song during the genius interview. Yes, he was high, but he may as well had someone ghostwrite it for him.

Singing "you claim your ex-boyfriend's a policeman, I say you need better standards" in the song Perfume is crazy when his standards are allowing abuse to happen.

When listening to Scum, you repeatedly hear him admitting to being scum and waste. Concrete is about how he's a piece of shit. Consequences should remind you of the actual consequences of his actions. I already explained what's wrong with "your sister was right". His parody songs are direct reflections of his real personality.

However, if you still want to listen to him - spotify has a feature where you can put local files into your playlists. If you have his music downloaded, you can listen to it on spotify without giving him money or views. Just saying.

Why he can get away with it

Look at him. He is an attractive white man in the UK, And pretty privilege is a thing, no matter how you look at it. He's popular and has gotten empathy from impressionable teenagers on the internet. A lot of people have put him on a pedestal after he showed support for the LGBT+ community and BLM, singing about being against capitalism. People feel bad for him because of his history with mental health problems. They excuse his actions because he was depressed during his relationships. He also has a pattern of exclusively targeting those weaker than him. Tiny women who he can pin down, throw or bite to show he's stronger than, and teenager Tommy who believed they had a brother dynamic. You will also notice that the only people who have shared their experience with him have been women who didn’t feel strong enough to fight back against him. He is a manipulator through and through.

This is not all the proof there is

If you need more convincing, watch other creator's videos on the subject. Shelby, Niki, Minx, Alicenyannyan. There are also more small things that he has done that add up, either violent behaviour, yelling, or ignoring people's boundaries. You will also This man is undeniably abusive.

Thank you to anyone who got this far, I hope someone will get use out of it. I'm happy to finally get what I wanted to say out there.