#or by not letting her use him as an emotional punching bag

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Cramps

Summary: After going off of birth control, your periods have been a little more intense than you're used to. What starts out as a stressful morning between you and your husband, very quickly turns into a night that bodes very well for the both of you.

Paring: Husband Frankie Morales x Wife f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K on the dot (idk how we got here)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) PERIOD SEX, unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also they want a baby so), vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving, again, you're on your period but our pussy eating king Fransisco Morales is an unstoppable force of nature), creampie, praise kink, big fat nasty breeding kink (it's who I am now, I won't apologize for it), Frankie's got a NASTY mouth, Frankie is the best husband, reader is on her period/has period symptoms, talks about family planning/not being on birth control, use of nicknames (hermosa, quierda, cariño), reader has no physical descriptions besides that she can wear Frankie's clothes

A/N: Well... This was gonna be a drabble... and then it was just gonna be fluff.... and then it was gonna be just some implied smut... and now, we're here??? Idk, don't ask me 🥴 self indulgent bc I just finished my period (and my periods have been whack since stopping bc) and what better way to heal myself than imagining what Frankie would be like taking care of you 🥺 also pls be nice to me this is my first time writing Frankie and I'm v nervous EEK I hope you enjoy!!! sorry Javi bby, I still love u

Bitchy. 

You wished you had a better word to describe your mood for today, but truth be told, bitchy was by far the most accurate. 

You and Frankie were hoping to start trying for your first baby soon, and had recently gone off your birth control after your doctor had told you it may take a few months for your body to regulate itself before you had a better chance at getting pregnant. Your doctor had also  warned you about many of the symptoms and side effects that stopping the pill could have, one of those being becoming more aware of your emotions and mood swings throughout your cycle. That, you were prepared for. 

What you were not prepared for, was to feel like an absolute psychopath in the days leading up to your period. 

 Your cycle had  been wonky the past few months as your body began to sort itself out- you had a feeling your period was probably about to start soon, but hadn’t thought much about it, considering your terrible and grouchy mood had overshadowed it. You had tried your best to pull yourself together the past few days, chalking up your grumpiness to long hours at work, or just being in a weird funk, but today, you woke up with a fire in your gut, ready to fight, and poor Frankie was about to be your punching bag. 

Sweet Frankie had been nothing short of a saint when it came to just about anything, but dealing with your newly heightened emotions right before your period really should have earned him some sort of Presidential Medal of Bravery, considering that your newly discovered highs and lows while PMS-ing were just as frightening as any time he had spent during his time in the military. 

Unfortunately for your husband, despite his best efforts, he had been on your nerves all morning. Not because he was really doing anything wrong, but because the little things that you were normally so good about letting go, or the patience you frequently had seemed to have flown out the window, and you were convinced that if Frankie even breathed the wrong way, you were going to absolutely lose it. 

So when unsuspecting Frankie decided to ask you a simple request about after work plans, there was very little he could have done to prepare for your response. 

“Morning, Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, emerging into the kitchen, his hand rustling through his untamed, sleepy brown curls as he let out a yawn and a stretch, the slight softness of his stomach peeking out between his t-shirt and pajama pants as he raised his arms above his head before settling behind you. He wrapped himself around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder as you finished putting the last of your lunch in your bag for work, trying to force yourself to focus on his sweet good morning, rather than the empty bowl of cereal in the sink that had greeted you first thing when you woke up, already starting you off on the wrong foot in your already irritable mood. 

“Morning, babe.” You grinned, forcing yourself to forgo the annoyance hidden behind your smile as you pecked a quick kiss on Frankie’s lips before gathering the rest of your things for the day scattered across the kitchen table. “Sorry, I didn’t have time to make you breakfast this morning because I was running late, but there’s extra scrambled eggs on the stove if you want them. I’m really sorry, Frankie, I gotta head out, have a good day, I’ll see you later okay?” You sighed, slinging your work bag over your shoulder, your hands full of your coffee mug, water bottle and keys, your cluttered grip and running behind schedule only adding to your frustration. 

“All good, Querida, no worries. Hey, actually baby, before you leave,” He paused, setting down the coffee mug he was just about ready to take a sip of, as if a little lightbulb had just gone off in his brain, “do you mind picking up stuff to make that really good buffalo chicken dip for Benny’s tonight? I told ‘em we’d bring like, an appetizer or something, if that’s okay.” 

For Frankie’s sake, you couldn’t have been more thankful that you had your back turned to him, because if looks could kill, Frankie Morales would have been a dead man. 

Every rational part of your brain knew that even though his request perhaps wasn’t the best timing, stopping by the store and making dip to bring to Benny’s for game night really wasn’t that much time or effort out of your day. But today, it seemed like every part of your brain but the rational one seemed to be functioning properly, and the raging, irrational part might as well have heard that Frankie wanted you to prepare and cook a Thanksgiving meal for 74 after you got home from work. 

You took a deep breath, your grip tightening around the items in your hand, praying with every bone in your body that someway or another, you had misheard your husband. 

“Tonight? As in, like, today, after I get home from work?” You questioned, trying to do your best to keep your tone from sounding too condescending. 

“Yeah, we don’t have to be there until 7, I just don’t think I’m gonna have time to since I probably won’t be outta work until 6:30.” He shrugged nonchalantly, taking another swig of his coffee 

Oh yeah, you’d heard him right.  

You let out a deep sigh, even more over dramatic than you had intended it to be, arms crossed over your chest and stark frown spread across your face as you turned towards Frankie. 

“Oh, perfect! That’s a great thing for me to find out about at 7:45 A.M. the day of, Frank!” Your voice oozed with ferocious sarcasm, now slamming your things back down onto the table to run your hands over your face. “No, that’s great, because there’s nothing I wanted to do more than to come home and make buffalo chicken dip instead of all the other shit I needed to do today before we left! Amazing! Thank you!” 

At this point, you were almost positive that if your eyes rolled any further, they’d be in the back of your skull, letting out another angry huff as you shook your head at Frankie, who was looking absolutely petrified as he leaned back against the counter, eyes darting to the floor to avoid yours, running his hand over the wispy curls at the nape of his neck. Frankie began to stammer, trying to defend himself from your wrath. 

“Hermosa, I’m- I’m sorry? I know it’s last minute, but you normally make it every time we go over there, I just- I figured it’d be easy for you to do? You can get something else, or I can try to stop by the store really quick on the way home, I just might-” 

“Nope, you want buffalo chicken dip, apparently I’m making buffalo chicken dip!” You groaned, collecting everything back into your hands, swearing under your breath as you tried to balance everything in your grip. “Jesus, okay, I need to go to work, just- I don’t even know. I gotta go, Frankie.” 

“Querida, I-” Frankie pleaded, beginning to trail behind you as you made your way to the front door. 

“Frankie, whatever, it’s fine! I’ll make the stupid dip! I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” You could feel the muscles in your jaw beginning to clench as you gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you to keep from exploding as you headed out of the house. Without even a kiss goodbye, you left Frankie in the doorway, watching you throw your things in the car and slam the door behind you as you drove down the driveway. 

But as soon as you were on the road and your house was out of view, you could instantly feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, slowly streaming down your cheeks as you began to sob, wondering why you had ruined the morning over as stupid as an appetizer, and even worse, that you had been a complete asshole to your husband about it. 

You couldn’t have been more thankful that work had been quiet today- no meetings on the schedule, and no one coming to bother you, leaving you plenty of peace and quiet to continue sulking and brooding in your unpleasant mood. 

Right around lunch time, you found yourself eating alone in your office, wishing your lunch was about ten times saltier and chocolatier than it was, crying to yourself as you watched a video of a dog meeting its new human sibling for the first time.

Just as you were beginning to pack up the rest of your lunch and start back up with your work, you felt a terrible twinge in your lower stomach that had you just about keeled over in pain, followed by that all too familiar feeling in your underwear. 

Frantically scrambling, you reached into your bag to pull out a tampon, hurriedly shuffling to the nearest bathroom, only to reveal the murder scene equivalent as you pulled down your pants. 

Your period had come.  

In that moment, as much as you were dreading the pain and misery that was the next few days to come, you couldn’t also help but feel a slight sense of relief, realizing that you were in fact, not actually a crazy person for the way you were feeling, you were just PMS-ing out of your mind. You couldn’t also help but feel absolutely awful for your unjustified freak out at your husband this morning, your heart sinking with guilt as you made your way back to your desk, immediately grabbing your phone to text Frankie. 

“Hey… I’m so sorry about this morning. What you were asking me to do wasn’t a big deal at all and I totally freaked out on you. My period just started, I think that’s why I’ve been such a bitch this morning. I’m sorry, Frankie, I love you.💕 ” 

It was almost instantly after you hit send that the reply bubble popped up in your message, your heart pounding anxiously waiting for your husband’s reply. 

“It’s okay, I kind of had a feeling 😉 babe, you weren’t being a bitch- I should have talked to you about it sooner. Shitty timing on my part. I’m sorry. I love you too, Querida.” 

Before you could even respond, another message popped up below his first. 

“Don’t worry about going to the store or making anything tonight. I already texted Benny and told him we couldn’t come. We can spend the night in, just the two of us. I can pick up takeout on the way home if you want and we can pick a movie to watch.” 

You could feel your frustrated facade beginning to melt away as your lips shifted from a pursed frown to a small smirk reading Frankie’s text, your thumbs quickly tapping across the screen of your phone to reply. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Of course. Hopefully none of your co-workers ask you to make buffalo chicken dip before you leave 😘” 

“Oh shut up, meanie.” 

“Just kidding. Have a good rest of your day, love you. 💙

“Love you too. 🤍” 

Although the rest of your day was nowhere near enjoyable, given the fact you felt like you were getting punched repeatedly in the uterus and your personality resembled that of Oscar the Grouch, you knew that your night in with Frankie was your light at the end of the tunnel, and only needed to make it a few more hours before there was at least some sweet relief finally headed your way. 

Despite the constant stabbing pain in your lower stomach and back, your drive home from work had you in much better spirits than your drive there, now not only having an explanation as to why you had felt like such a mess, but also knowing the rest of your night was going to be dedicated to nothing but cuddling up in your comfiest clothes and snuggling up next to Frankie on the couch. 

As you pulled down your street, you were surprised to see Frankie’s truck already parked in the driveway, wondering what he was doing at home almost an hour earlier than he had mentioned he would be this morning. Gathering all of your things out of the back of your car, you quietly entered your home, confusion scrunching in your brow as you called out for your husband. 

“Frankie? Babe, are you home?” 

Before you could even kick off your shoes or hang up your coat, Frankie had already appeared at the front door to greet you, boyish grin spread across his face as he grabbed your things out of your hand, carefully placing them on your entryway table before engulfing you in a bear hug, his broad arms wrapping around your body and pulling you closer into his chest. 

You could feel all the muscles in your body instantly relax as your face rested against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, soaking in the familiar woody and savory scent of him, letting yourself be consumed by every ounce of his embrace. 

“Hi Hermosa.” Frankie cooed, pressing a soft kiss against your temple, running his hands up and down your back as you looked up at his sweet brown eyes shining down at you. 

“What are you doing home so early? I mean, not that I’m mad about it at all, I just thought you said that you had to work until 6:30 and-” 

“Told my boss I had to head out early for a family emergency.” Frankie smirked, laughing at you playfully rolling your eyes from his so-called excuse. 

“Last time I checked, your wife being a grump because she’s bleeding out of her cooch doesn’t classify as a family emergency, Fransisco.” You teased, giving him a little shove, making the two of you giggle in tandem. 

“Eh, close enough. I’m really sorry about this morning, querida. I was a dick for not talking to you about plans beforehand and just assuming you could go do it. It wasn’t fair of me.” 

“It’s okay, Frankie. What you were asking for wasn’t a big deal and I made it one because I’ve been a psycho all day. I’m sorry, too.” 

“Well,” Frankie paused, pressing another kiss onto your cheek, the width of his palm gently cradling your jaw as you stared up at him and his sympathetic smile, “number one, you are not a psycho. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must feel right now, so even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you one bit. Number two,” he paused again, shifting his kiss from your cheek to your lips, his thumb delicately swiping across your skin, “you’re my wife and I love you more than anything, and if I can take a little time off to help make you feel better, it’s the least I can do. So, why don’t you go change into something comfortable, and when you get back down here, I will have pizza and ice cream, whatever movie you wanna watch, and a back rub ready for you, okay?”   

“Okay. Thank you, Frankie. God, you’re the best.” You grinned, pressing up on your tiptoes to let your mouth meet Frankie’s, the plush pout of his bottom lip swiping across yours, lingering just long enough to let the butterflies in your stomach begin to swirl, heat creeping through your cheeks in the tenderness of the moment.

“Of course, cariño. Te amo. Now go get changed.” With one last peck on his lips, you wiggled out of Frankie’s grasp to make your way up the stairs, grinning to see that your husband had already set out your favorite of his oversized sweatshirts and sweatpants, neatly folded on the bed for you to grab, quickly shuffling out of your uncomfortable work attire and exchanging it for Frankie’s clothes, your smile growing even wider at the feeling of perpetually being wrapped up in the essence of him. 

As you made your way back downstairs to meet Frankie, you found your heart skipping a beat again to see that the better part of the living room had been turned into a cozy sanctuary- lights dim and candles lit, both parts of your couch squished together, filled with every pillow and blanket you owned, and Frankie sitting in the middle, giant box of pizza, tub of ice cream and your handsome husband waiting for you. 

As if your emotions hadn’t already taken you on a wild roller coaster of a ride today, the adorable sight in front of you had you on the verge of tears again, wiping the wetness pooling in your eyes with the back of Frankie’s sweatshirt sleeve drooping off your arm before crawling into the blanket fort he had constructed for the two of you. 

“Frankie… You didn’t have to do this.” You sniffled, curling up next to Frankie as he draped a blanket over your lap and his arm over your shoulder, passing you a plate with 2 large pieces of pizza. 

“It’s the least I could do. I put on Hercules for us to watch, but if you wanna-” 

Before you could let him finish the rest of his sentence, you were running your hand across the scratchy stubble of his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours as you planted a kiss on his lips, feeling your smiles melt into one another's as your mouths met. “That sounds perfect. God, how’d I get so lucky?” 

“I could say the same thing, mi amor. You ready to start the movie?” 

“Only if you also pass me that tub of Ben and Jerry’s to go with my pizza.” 

“I think I can make that happen.” 

About half way through the movie, pizza and tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, your and Frankie’s bodies were tangled together in a sea of limbs and blankets, contently snuggled up with one another as Frankie’s fingers traced lazy circles on your back and shoulder as you laid against his chest. 

“You doin’ okay, querida? Need anything?” He cooed, his soft voice dancing in your ear. As if it weren’t enough that you had already been through the extreme highs and lows of almost every feeling under the sun today, the one you hadn’t been until this very moment was insatiably horny. While the mood swings you had mentally prepared yourself for with your new period symptoms, the constant other kind of ache between your legs you had not, and feeling the low rasp of Frankie’s words tickling your neck had been just enough to flip the switch to make you desperately needy. 

Letting your leg slide over Frankie’s lap, you pushed yourself up to straddle his hips, running your hands through the dark curls of his thick, brown hair, and down his broad chest, your fists bunching the worn fabric of his shirt in your hands as your mouths became a mess of tangled tongues and teeth. 

“I need- fuck- I need you, Frankie, please.” You pleaded between muffled moans, his tongue swiping in the parted space where your lips melted together as one, instinctively beginning to grind your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his sweatpants starting to grow beneath you. 

“Fuck- You sure, baby?” Frankie rasped, reactively bucking up into you, making you whine as his hands dug into your hips, guiding you as you swirled over the tented fabric of his bottom half rubbing against your covered core. 

“Please. Please, Frankie.” You were all but whimpering at this point, nodding frantically in approval as Frankie used the grasp on your hips to guide you onto your back, making you cock your head in confusion as Frankie scampered to the other side of the couch, back turned to you as he reached over the ledge, pulling out a thick, black towel with a smug grin on his face. “Did you seriously have a towel ready incase I wanted to have sex?” You snorted, shaking your head at Frankie, now crawling back to you, caging your body under his with an electric kiss as he shimmied the towel underneath you. 

“Maybe.” Frankie smirked, breaking from your kiss to let his lips trail down your body, his hands toying with the edge of his sweatshirt covering your body as he pushed it up your stomach and chest, helping you to shimmy it over your head, leaving your top half exposed. He gently palmed at your breasts, taking each pebbled nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking at the buds with his tongue before letting his kisses travel down the soft skin of your stomach and waistband of your sweatpants. The clothes on your bottom half soon joined your sweatshirt in a crumpled pile as Frankie nestled himself between your legs, gently nudging your hips to let your thighs part, revealing your pussy, slick and shiny for him with your juices. 

Even though Frankie would eat you out for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a late night snack, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that he still found himself between your legs during your time of the month, considering any other man probably would have scoffed at just the thought of going down on you on your period. 

But, then again, Frankie Morales wasn’t just any other man. 

“Frankie, baby, you know you don’t- Oh fuck!” You gasped, cut off in surprise as Frankie’s tongue licked a long, broad strip across your cunt, making you shudder in pleasure as his head perked up, revealing the devilish grin spread between his cheeks watching your chest already heave in heavy, shaky breaths. 

“Oh I know I don’t have to, sweet girl. But I want to. Relax, baby, lemme take care of you.” 

Before you could agree, protest, or anything in between, Frankie was back between your legs, arms wrapped around your thighs as they draped over his broad shoulders, digging his fingertips into the plush softness of your skin, dragging his tongue through your folds with the exact grace and precision that he knew made you fall apart in seconds. 

With flat, firm presses of his mouth latched against your clit, you could already feel your bottom half writhing under him, the perfect pressure of his tongue dancing around your sensitive bundle of nerves making you moan in pleasure. As your head dipped back, falling into the couch pillow behind you, your hand shot down, fingers burying themselves in the wild curls of Frankie’s hair, tugging at the thick ends for any sort of release as he worked relentlessly at your aching cunt. 

“Fuck, Frankie, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your praise only intensifying the way your husband drank every ounce of you up, two thick fingers now gently pressing inside your heat, curled deliciously as they rocked in and out of your entrance, nudging against your g-spot. 

Frankie had spent enough time worshiping the altar that was your pussy to know exactly how to make you crumble beneath him, leaving you chanting his name like a prayer as his lips latched around your clit, ferociously sucking as his fingers prodded at the soft, spongy spot that made your cunt begin to clench and heat in your belly pool. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. I’ve got you.” Frankie groaned, his words humming deep in his chest, placing chaste kisses on the inside of your thighs before drinking you up like a man starved, adding a third finger into your heat, the added fullness and stretch, combined with Frankie’s relentless pace, enough to have the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine now washing through every inch of your body. Your orgasm began to crash through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins, making you cry out Frankie’s name over and over. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum again, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become, your pussy slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the Frankie and fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

Wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand, Frankie tugged the sweatshirt covering his own body over his head, followed by his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock as it slapped against his stomach, his tip red and leaking with precum as his broad body loomed over yours, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as you whimpered his name. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” 

“Such a good girl for me, querida. You still want me to fuck you, baby?” He mewled, the metallic and tangy taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he kissed you, laughing to himself at the way you found yourself frantically nodding your head to tell him yes before your words could. 

“Jesus Christ, yes. Fuck, please Frankie, I need to feel you.” 

Reaching down to stroke himself, he lined his cock up with your entrance, easily sliding into your heat and brushing his tip against your cervix, taking a moment to let you adjust to his fullness. The whine you let out as Frankie filled every inch of you was nothing short of ragged, digging your nails into the skin of his broad back as he ever so slowly began to thrust in and out of you, dragging his length against the slick of your cunt. 

“Oh fuck me- Fuck, you hear how wet you are for me, sweet girl? This what you needed, baby? To fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” Frankie groaned, letting his forehead rest against yours, his sweaty curls now starting to stick to his skin as he pounded into you, rutting his hips at a faster and faster pace. 

“It’s all for you, Frankie- Oh shit- only for you.” You moaned, your fingers wrapping around the width of his biceps, flexing deliciously as he hovered over you, sucking you in to a long, deep kiss, fucking into you over and over. 

Even with the years between you and the ring on your finger, the possessive part of Frankie’s brain would never get over how the primal and all consuming feeling of knowing you were his, forever, your words shooting straight to his dick as a low groan rumbled in his chest, silently cursing to himself through gritted teeth, watching you fall apart below him. 

Readjusting himself, Frankie sat back on his heels, hooking his arm under one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, the new angle stretching you out in a way that had you seeing stars as Frankie rammed into your g-spot and began thumbing at your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your first orgasm. You could already feel the heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, your leg beginning to tremble hoisted over Frankie’s shoulder as he dug into the meat of your thigh with a bruising intensity. 

Just like he would never get over the fact of knowing you were his, Frankie would never get over watching you begin to crumble under his touch, taking the time to memorize every twitch and twinge your body made as you came closer and closer to your end, always savoring in the moaning mess you’d become as you fell apart around him. 

“Fuck, Frankie, Fuck, oh my god- I’m close, baby.” You were all but rambling at this point, your brain barley stringing together coherent sentences as you felt your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, the lewd noises of your moans, wetness and skin slapping together as your hips met filling the room at a borderline pornagraphic rate. 

“Meirda, I’m not gonna last much longer, hermosa. Fuck, where do you want me, baby?” Frankie growled through gritted teeth, his eyes locking on yours and telling him everything he needed to know without you saying a word. 

“Inside. Fuck, please Frankie, I want you to cum inside me.” 

Your confirmation was all it took to flip the switch in Frankie that sent him absolutely feral, the thought of being able to actually knock you up now that you weren’t on birth control anymore, giving you a baby, proving another way to the world to mark you as his? The thought alone was enough to have him bracing every bone in his body to keep him from cuming right then and there. 

“Fuck me. You want me to fill you up, querida? Fuck me full of you? Fuck a baby into you? That's what you want, huh?” Frankie moaned, grunting with each thrust of his hips, his rhythm becoming more frantic and shaky as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him, pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit, swirling them in frantic circles to make sure you came before he did. 

“Fuck, yes. I need you too, holy fuck- wanna make you a daddy, Fransisco.” 

You could feel the tightly wound knot in your core starting to snap, your legs trembling and breath shaking as Frankie fucked into you, finding yourself on the verge of collapse- but not before Frankie’s filthy mouth got the last word in. 

“Jesus, fuck- Fuck, hermosa. That’s what you want, pretty girl? I swear, I’m gonna fuck myself so deep into you it’ll fucking take. Get you fucking pregnant tonight.” 

That was all it took to have you orgasm come crashing through you, every inch of your body radiating with pleasure as you came, crying out Frankie’s name as you gushed around him, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head, your mind going blank and numb, the only thing grounding you were the incoherent ramblings of your husband as he followed suit behind you. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, fuck, fuck-ahhhhhh.” With one final thrust, Frankie could feel himself spilling against your walls, coating you with his spend as his cock pulsed, making sure he milked himself of every last drop deep inside your cunt before even thinking about pulling out. Moving your leg, Frankie slumped into you, splaying himself across your body as your chests rose and fell in sync, laying in silence as you let your breathing steady, coming back down to Earth from your high. 

With a shallow grunt, Frankie carefully pulled his softening cock out of your heat, leaning back to admire the mess he had made between your legs, his cum dripping down the inside of your thighs and pussy glistening with the mixture of your arousal. You let out a soft hiss at the loss of Frankie’s fullness inside you, only to quickly be replaced by a gasp as he buried his two fingers back into your cunt.  

“Gotta make sure every last drop stays in there, hermosa. Gonna keep you full of me all night, baby.” He mewled, carefully gathering his spend and pushing it deep inside you, making you whimper as he slowly pulsed his fingers back and forth, pulling away his hand to lean back into your body, engulfing you with an electric kiss. 

“Holy fuck, fuck me. Jesus, Frankie.” You laughed to yourself, your head dipping back on the pillow as you buried your face in your hands, at a loss for words at how euphoric you now felt in your post colital bliss. 

“Wow, again, already? Gotta give me a few after that querida.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes at his joke as you playfully swatted at him, making him lean in to pepper your body with kisses, leaving you squealing and squirming in delight. 

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Fransisco Morales. If you keep fucking me like that, then yeah, absolutley.” 

“If I keep fucking you like this, I have a very hopeful feeling that next month, we’ll have something else to care about besides period cramps.”

“I swear to god, if one of my cravings ends up being buffalo chicken dip once I’m pregnant, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Taglist:

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @angel98624 @anoverwhelmingdin @pimosworld @nandan11 @iloveenya @survivingandenduring

[callsigns-haze]

Lean off

This can be read before or after Lean on, or alone! It could perfectly serve as a one-shot!

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler returns to visit YN and their son, Noah, after a year. Upon arriving at YN's small apartment, Tyler immediately senses tension between them. YN is cold and distant, and Tyler soon discovers the reason—she had seen him on a recent livestream, where he had flirted with his crew member, Kate, and kissed her forehead. Although Tyler insists that it was harmless, YN's hurt is evident, as it reminds her of all the times he put his storm-chasing career above their family.

Warnings: Emotional Tension, Strong Language, Alcohol Use, Sexual Content, Family Conflict, Mature Themes.

Word count: 5,162

Tyler carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the front door open as quietly as he could. It was well past midnight, and the house was bathed in darkness, save for the dim light spilling from the kitchen. He let out a weary sigh as he slipped off his shoes, the exhaustion of the long day of chasing tornadoes weighing heavily on him. He knew he was late—much later than he’d promised—but he hoped YN was still awake, maybe reading in bed or waiting for him with a flicker of anger, but nothing that couldn’t be smoothed over with an apology and a kiss.

As he moved further into the house, Tyler paused. There was a noise coming from the kitchen, a low rustling and the sound of something heavy being set down. Frowning, he quietly placed his bag on the floor and walked towards the kitchen, his heart sinking with each step. He reached the doorway and hesitated, something in the pit of his stomach warning him that this wasn’t just a late-night snack or YN waiting up for him.

Taking a deep breath, Tyler reached out and flicked the light switch, the kitchen flooding with brightness. His heart stopped at the sight that greeted him.

YN was standing by the counter, her face set in a mixture of anger and sadness. Around her were several open suitcases, partially packed with clothes, toiletries, and other belongings. Her hands were busy stuffing a few more items into a duffel bag, her movements sharp and determined.

“YN?” Tyler’s voice was tentative, almost pleading. “What… what’s going on? Where’s Noah?”

YN didn’t look up right away, her shoulders stiffening at the sound of his voice. “My brother took Noah to his place,” she finally said, her tone cold and distant. “I’m leaving, Tyler.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him momentarily breathless. “Leaving? What do you mean you’re leaving? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care what time it is,” YN snapped, her voice rising with anger. “I’m done, Tyler. I’m done waiting up for you, wondering if you’ll come home in one piece or if you’ll even bother coming home at all!”

Tyler shook his head, trying to make sense of what was happening. “YN, please… Let’s talk about this. I know I’m late, but it was a bad chase—”

“It’s always a bad chase!” YN shouted, cutting him off. “Every single time! You’re always late, always chasing after another storm, always putting that damn job before us! I’m tired, Tyler. I’m tired of being second to your obsession!”

Tyler’s own anger started to flare up, mixing with the guilt and fear churning in his gut. “You knew what you were getting into when we got together. This is what I do, YN. This is who I am!”

“But it’s not who I want to be anymore!” YN retorted, her voice breaking with emotion. “I used to love chasing with you, I did. But then we had Noah, and everything changed. I needed you to change with me, but you didn’t. You’re still out there, risking your life, and for what? A thrill? A rush? It’s not worth it, Tyler!”

“I do it for us!” Tyler argued, his voice loud and desperate. “I do it to provide for our family, to make sure Noah has everything he needs!”

“Don’t you dare make this about us!” YN’s eyes blazed with fury as she rounded on him, her hands clenched into fists. “You do it because you can’t let go! You’re addicted to the danger, to the chase, and you won’t admit it! You’ve put that before us time and time again, and I’m done! I’m not waiting around for you to come home in a body bag!”

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and years of built-up resentment. Tyler took a step closer, his voice softening. “YN, please… I love you. I love Noah. We can figure this out. Don’t go.”

But YN shook her head, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “It’s too late, Tyler. I can’t do this anymore. I’ve already lost you to those storms, and I’m not losing myself in the process.”

With that, she turned back to her packing, her movements hurried and desperate, as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Tyler stood frozen for a moment, his mind racing. He felt like he was losing everything, and he didn’t know how to stop it. Desperation clawed at him as he reached out, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Don���t leave, YN. Please.”

But YN wrenched her arm away, her eyes filled with anger and pain. “Let go of me, Tyler,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “I’m done begging you to be here. I’m done.”

In her fury, she picked up the first thing she could find—a shoe—and hurled it at him. Tyler barely had time to react, ducking as it sailed past his head and hit the wall with a dull thud.

“YN, stop!” he pleaded, but she wasn’t listening. Her hands went to her finger, yanking off her wedding rings. With a choked sob, she threw them at him, the metal bands clattering to the floor at his feet.

Tyler stared down at the rings, his heart shattering at the sight. “YN…” he whispered, his voice filled with pain. “Please don’t do this.”

But YN was already turning away, her resolve firm as she zipped up the duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. “I’m leaving, Tyler. And this time, I’m not coming back.”

With that, she walked out of the kitchen, her footsteps echoing in the silent house. Tyler didn’t follow, too stunned to move, his heart breaking as he listened to the sound of the front door closing behind her.

He was left standing there, alone in the too-bright kitchen, staring down at the rings on the floor. The reality of what had just happened crashed over him like a wave, and he sank to his knees, the weight of his mistakes finally too much to bear.

----

One Year Later

Tyler stood outside the small apartment building, his hand hovering over the door for a moment before he finally knocked. It had been a year since YN had left him, a year filled with regrets and missed opportunities. The weight of his mistakes felt heavier than ever as he stood on the doorstep, trying to muster the courage to face the woman he had let down.

The door creaked open, and there she was—YN, her expression guarded and eyes tired. She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and wariness, a wall of coldness immediately going up between them. She didn’t look like the woman he used to know, not entirely. There was a hardness to her that hadn’t been there before, something born out of a year of managing on her own.

“Tyler,” she said flatly, not bothering to hide her displeasure. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see Noah,” Tyler replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ve missed him. I’ve missed you both.”

YN’s eyes flickered with something—maybe anger, maybe pain—but it quickly disappeared behind a mask of indifference. “He’s napping,” she said curtly, stepping aside to let him in. “You can wait inside if you want.”

Tyler walked into the small apartment, his eyes taking in the cramped space. The living room was tiny, cluttered with toys and toddler essentials, the furniture worn and mismatched. The kitchen was barely more than a corner with a small table and a few chairs, and the single bedroom door was slightly ajar, revealing a glimpse of Noah’s crib.

He felt a pang of guilt as he realized just how much YN had sacrificed, how different this was from the life they had once planned together. The apartment was clean, but it was clear that money was tight and that YN was managing everything on her own.

“This place is… small,” Tyler said quietly, more to himself than to her.

“It’s all we need,” YN snapped, her tone icy. “I’m not living in some big house, Tyler. We’re fine here. We don’t need anything from you.”

The coldness in her voice cut through him like a knife. He had expected her to be angry, but this… this was something else. She wasn’t just angry—she was done with him. Tyler could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking at him directly.

“YN, I know I messed up,” he began, trying to find the right words. “I know I haven’t been around, but I want to change that. I want to be here for Noah, to help out.”

YN crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze hard. “We’ve been fine without you, Tyler. I don’t need your help, and Noah doesn’t need a father who shows up when it’s convenient for him.”

Her words stung, and Tyler felt his defences rising. “That’s not fair, YN. I’m trying to make things right. I’m here now.”

“Too little, too late,” she shot back. “You weren’t here when it mattered, Tyler. You weren’t here when I needed you the most, and now you want to waltz back into our lives like nothing happened? It doesn’t work that way.”

Tyler swallowed hard, the guilt weighing heavy on him. “I know I screwed up, and I’m not asking for everything to be okay overnight. I just want a chance to be a father to Noah.”

At that moment, a small cry came from the bedroom, and YN turned away from him without another word. She walked down the short hallway and returned a moment later, holding a sleepy, tousled-haired Noah in her arms. The toddler blinked at Tyler with wide, curious eyes, still half-asleep but recognizing his father.

“Daddy?” Noah mumbled, reaching out a small hand towards him.

Tyler’s heart ached as he reached out to take Noah, holding him close. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

YN watched them with a stony expression, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’ve got a few minutes before I put him back down for his nap,” she said coldly. “Make the most of it.”

Tyler nodded, feeling the weight of her words. He sat down on the worn couch, bouncing Noah on his knee and listening to the boy’s sleepy babble. But all the while, he could feel YN’s eyes on him, the distance between them a tangible thing that no amount of time with Noah could bridge.

When Noah started to get drowsy again, YN walked over and took him from Tyler’s arms, cradling the boy close to her chest. “I’ll put him down now,” she said, her tone making it clear that Tyler’s time was up.

“YN, wait,” Tyler said, standing up. “I want to be here for you both. I want to help.”

YN paused in the doorway, not turning around to face him. “We don’t need you, Tyler,” she said quietly, the finality in her voice hitting him hard. “We’re doing just fine on our own.”

She walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her, leaving Tyler standing alone in the small, silent living room. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, and Tyler knew that he had a long way to go if he ever wanted to be a part of their lives again.

But for now, all he could do was leave, the coldness of YN’s rejection echoing in his mind as he walked out of the apartment and into the night.

----

One Year Later

Tyler stood outside YN’s apartment, feeling the familiar mix of anticipation and anxiety that always accompanied these visits. It had been another year since the last time he saw Noah, and the memory of YN’s cold words still lingered in his mind. He had tried to do better since then, tried to keep in touch and be more present, but the distance between them remained. Still, he couldn’t stay away, not when Noah was involved.

He knocked on the door, and after a moment, YN opened it. Her expression was unreadable, but there was no immediate anger or coldness, which felt like a small victory. She looked a little softer, a little more tired, but still had that guarded look about her.

“Tyler,” she greeted, stepping back to let him in. “Noah’s not here. He’s with my brother for the weekend.”

Tyler’s heart sank a little at the news, but he nodded. “That’s okay. I… I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

YN gave him a small, almost reluctant smile. “I’m fine. Come in. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure,” Tyler said, stepping inside. The apartment hadn’t changed much, still small and modest, but it was clear that YN had made it as comfortable as she could. He followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet and poured them each a glass.

Tyler sat at the small kitchen table, the wine glass cool in his hand as he took a sip. The rich, dark liquid swirled in his mouth, its warmth spreading through him. Across the table, YN sat with her own glass, the tension between them slightly eased by the familiar comfort of alcohol. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft clink of their glasses and the occasional creak of the old apartment settling around them.

They had been talking for a while, skirting around the more difficult topics, focusing instead on safer ground—how Noah was doing, the latest developments at YN’s job, the weather. But as the wine began to loosen their tongues, the conversation took on a more reflective tone.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” Tyler asked, swirling his wine around in his glass, the liquid catching the dim light. “Drank wine together, I mean?”

YN smiled, a small, wistful expression crossing her face. “Yeah, I do. It was that night after our first tornado chase together. You brought that cheap bottle of wine, and we drank it on the tailgate of your truck, watching the stars.”

Tyler chuckled softly. “I think that was the best bottle of wine I’ve ever had. Probably because of the company.”

YN rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her gaze that hadn’t been there in a long time. “It was terrible wine, but… yeah, it was a good night.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment, both lost in the memory of simpler times. The night outside was calm, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had defined their relationship over the past few years.

“You know,” Tyler began, his voice a little quieter now, “I never wanted things to turn out like this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

YN looked down at her glass, her fingers tracing the rim. “I know, Tyler. But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. Doesn’t make it any less real.”

Tyler nodded, swallowing hard. “I just… I wish I could go back and do things differently. Be there for you and Noah the way I should have been.”

YN’s eyes met his, and for the first time that night, Tyler saw a flicker of the vulnerability she had kept hidden. “We can’t go back,” she said softly. “All we can do is deal with what’s in front of us now.”

Tyler leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the window. “And what’s in front of us now?” he asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.

YN sighed, taking another sip of her wine. “Honestly? I don’t know. We’ve been doing okay, Noah and I. It’s been hard, but we’ve managed. But every time you come back… it stirs everything up again.”

“I don’t mean to make things harder for you,” Tyler said, his voice heavy with regret. “I just… I miss him. I miss you both.”

YN’s expression softened, but there was still a guardedness there, a hesitancy that hadn’t been present in those early days when they had been inseparable. “Tyler, I know you love Noah. And I know you care about me. But caring isn’t enough. It’s not enough to show up once in a while and expect things to be okay.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice strained. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to be better.”

YN sighed, setting her glass down on the table. “I’ve heard that before, Tyler. And maybe you are trying, but it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve both been hurt. It doesn’t change the fact that I had to pick up the pieces and make a life for Noah and me without you.”

Tyler felt a lump forming in his throat, the weight of her words pressing down on him. “I hate that I put you in that position. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

“Then why weren’t you?” she asked, the question hanging heavy in the air. It was a question that had been asked before, but somehow, this time it felt different—more urgent, more necessary.

Tyler looked down at his hands, the glass of wine now forgotten. “I thought I was doing the right thing. Chasing storms, making a name for myself… I thought it was for us. But I got lost in it, lost in the adrenaline, the excitement. And by the time I realized what I was losing, it was too late.”

YN’s gaze softened slightly, but there was still a barrier between them, one built by years of disappointment. “It was never about the storms, Tyler. It was about being a family, about being there when it mattered. And you weren’t.”

Tyler nodded, accepting the truth of her words. “I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make up for it, but I want to try.”

YN leaned back in her chair, her expression pensive. “I don’t know if you can, Tyler. But maybe… maybe we can try to figure out where to go from here. For Noah’s sake, if nothing else.”

Tyler looked at her, hope flickering in his chest. “I’d like that,” he said softly. “I really would.”

As the night wore on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—the funny things Noah had said recently, memories of old storm chases, even a few shared laughs. The tension slowly eased, replaced by something warmer, something that felt almost like the beginnings of healing.

And then, as the wine continued to work its way through their systems, Tyler found himself leaning in, his gaze locked on YN’s. The distance between them felt like it had narrowed, if only slightly, and before he knew it, he was kissing her.

For a moment, YN didn’t pull away. For a moment, it felt like things might be okay again, like they might be able to find their way back to each other. But then, even as she kissed him back, he heard her whisper, “Tyler, this is wrong…”

But neither of them stopped, not as the kiss deepened, not as the pull of something familiar and comforting took over. They were both too tired, too worn out by the weight of the past to resist the temptation of what used to be.

“Tyler, we shouldn’t…” she murmured, but her words trailed off as he kissed her neck, her hands tangling in his hair.

Tyler's hands trembled slightly as he lifted YN onto the counter, his lips still locked with hers in a kiss that grew more urgent by the second. His mind was clouded, every rational thought drowned out by the overwhelming need to be close to her again, to feel her against him. Their kisses were deep, almost desperate, filled with the longing and tension that had been building between them for years.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, searching for any sign that she wanted him to stop. But all he saw was the same need reflected back at him. Slowly, his hands moved to the hem of her shirt, fingers brushing against her skin as he lifted it over her head. She shivered at the contact, her breath catching in her throat as she looked up at him with wide eyes.

Tyler paused for a brief moment, taking in the sight of her—bare skin illuminated by the dim light, her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. Then, with a sense of reverence, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her shoulder, trailing soft kisses along her collarbone. Her skin was warm, smooth, and he felt a surge of affection as he kissed his way down her arm, lingering at the crook of her elbow before moving back up to her neck.

YN let out a small, involuntary moan as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear. Encouraged, Tyler continued his exploration, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the dip of her back, the soft swell of her breasts. He took his time, savouring the feel of her under his fingers, the way her body responded to his touch.

With a gentle tug, he unhooked her bra, letting it fall away. He kissed down the centre of her chest, his lips warm against her bare skin. YN arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair as she tilted her head back, offering more of herself to him.

Tyler’s kisses grew hungrier, more insistent, as he worked his way lower. He kissed along the curve of her ribcage, his hands gripping her hips as he nuzzled his face against her stomach. Every inch of her skin was met with his lips, his touch both tender and possessive. It was as if he was trying to memorize the taste and feel of her, to make up for all the time they had lost.

He continued to kiss her, slowly, methodically, until he reached the waistband of her pants. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the button, before looking up at her. YN’s eyes were half-closed, her lips parted, and she gave him the slightest nod, a silent invitation to continue.

With practiced ease, Tyler undid the button and slid her pants down, along with her underwear, leaving her completely exposed to him. He took a step back, his eyes raking over her bare form, and for a moment, all he could do was stare, his breath catching in his throat.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. It wasn’t just about the physical—though she was stunning—but about everything she represented. The love they had shared, the life they had built, and the possibility of something more, something they had both thought they had lost.

YN blushed under his gaze, a soft smile playing on her lips as she reached out for him. Tyler wasted no time in closing the distance between them, capturing her lips in another searing kiss. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, exploring her body with a renewed urgency.

As he kissed his way down her body again, taking his time with each tender caress, YN’s breathing became more erratic, her fingers clutching at his shoulders, his hair, anything she could reach. Tyler could feel the heat radiating off her, the tension coiling between them, and he knew she was as lost in this moment as he was.

He kissed his way down her stomach, his lips brushing over her hips, her thighs, the sensitive skin just below her navel. He wanted to take his time, to worship her the way she deserved, but the need in his own body was growing stronger, almost unbearable.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, Tyler lifted his head and met her gaze. There was something raw, almost desperate in his eyes as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her skin. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you.”

YN didn’t respond with words; instead, she pulled him up to her, capturing his lips in a kiss that was filled with all the unspoken feelings between them. The kiss was deep, intense, a perfect reflection of the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for years.

Tyler’s hands roamed over her body, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin as he pressed himself against her. The world outside the small apartment faded away, leaving just the two of them, lost in the moment, lost in each other.

He kissed her again and again, each kiss more passionate than the last, until they were both breathless, their bodies tangled together on the counter. As Tyler undressed himself, his movements were hurried, desperate, as if he couldn’t stand to be separated from her for even a second.

When he finally re-joined her, their bodies came together in a way that was as familiar as it was new, a perfect blend of past and present. As they moved together, their kisses never ceased, growing more intense, more desperate, until all that was left was the pure, raw connection between them.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—not the hurt, not the anger, not the uncertainty of the future. All that existed was the two of them, their bodies intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they found their way back to each other, one kiss at a time.

----

One year later

When Tyler returned another year later, the air in YN’s small apartment felt different. Noah was now six, and the innocent joy in his son’s voice as he packed his bag in his room was a stark contrast to the tension simmering just beneath the surface between Tyler and YN.

As YN opened the door to let Tyler in, the look on her face was anything but warm. There was a distinct coldness in her eyes, a chill that hadn’t been there during their last encounter. Tyler noticed it immediately, though he couldn’t quite place why. She stepped aside, allowing him to enter, but there was no welcoming smile, no familiar spark.

“Hey,” Tyler greeted, trying to sound casual, though his stomach was already tightening with unease. “How’ve you been?”

YN didn’t answer right away. She simply closed the door behind him and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall. “Noah’s in his room packing,” she said curtly, avoiding his eyes. Her voice was distant, the usual warmth completely absent.

Tyler frowned, sensing that something was off. “Is everything okay?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. He took a step toward her, but she shifted slightly, putting more distance between them.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and he saw the storm behind her eyes. “I’m fine,” she replied, though the tightness in her voice suggested otherwise. “But you… you seem to be doing just great.”

Tyler blinked, confusion washing over him. “What do you mean?”

YN’s gaze hardened. “Saw your little livestream the other day. The one with...what's her name again? Kacey? Kylie? Oh no, Kate.”

Realization dawned on him like a punch to the gut. He’d done a live stream with his storm-chasing crew a few days ago, a casual one where they’d been chatting about their latest chase. Kate, as always, had been her cheerful self, and at one point, he’d kissed her forehead in a playful, affectionate gesture—something that had seemed harmless at the time.

But seeing YN’s expression now, he knew it hadn’t come across that way to her.

“That—” Tyler began, struggling to find the right words. “That was nothing, YN. Kate’s just a friend. We were just messing around, that’s all.”

YN’s laugh was bitter, devoid of any humour. “Yeah, just messing around. Like we used to, right? Before things got complicated.”

Tyler’s heart sank. He knew this wasn’t just about the livestream. It was about all the times he hadn’t been there, all the times he’d put his career, his crew, before her and Noah. It was about how easily he seemed to move on, while she was left picking up the pieces.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he insisted, his voice pleading now. “It was just a stupid, thoughtless thing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

YN finally looked him in the eye, and the pain there was unmistakable. “It means something to me, Tyler,” she said quietly. “It means that even after all this time, you still don’t get it. You still don’t understand what it’s like to be left behind while you’re out there, living your life without us.”

Tyler opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, that he did care, that he did understand. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, he knew she was right. He’d always been better at chasing storms than at staying put, at dealing with the realities of the life they’d once tried to build together.

The silence between them stretched out, heavy and oppressive, until finally, YN sighed and shook her head. “Noah’s excited to see you,” she said, her tone softening just a little. “He’s been looking forward to it all week. So don’t ruin this for him.”

Tyler nodded, guilt gnawing at his insides. “I won’t,” he promised, though the words felt hollow in his mouth.

YN turned away from him, as if the conversation was over, and Tyler was left standing in the middle of the small living room, feeling like an intruder in a place that had once felt like home. The sound of Noah’s cheerful humming drifted in from the other room, a stark contrast to the icy atmosphere between his parents.

Tyler couldn’t shake the feeling that, no matter how much he tried, he would never be able to make things right between them. And as he stood there, waiting for Noah to finish packing, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was losing YN all over again—this time for good.

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

[wosoamazing]

Rescue

Barça Femeni x Teen!Reader (Mainly Alexia)

Based off of this request. (And also vaguely off of Lauren Daigle's song - more so just the title, but it kind of under lays the fic I guess.)

WARNINGS: Attempted Sexual Assault References (flack backs), Abusive Father (physical and emotional), drinking/drunk, slight mentions of implied sick (doesn't happen). Let me know if anything else

The team were always suspicious about your home life and what it was actually like but you always brushed them off when they questioned and no one had tried to push further until recently.

“Y/N, we missed you last night, what happened?” Lucy asked you as she walked in, most of the team following behind her.

“Oh, sorry I was going to message but I must’ve forgotten, I felt a little sick so I thought it was best to stay home,” you told them, causing Alexia to move towards you with her hand out, which you dodge, “but I’m fine now,” you smiled at your captain and she gave you a fake smile back.

That was far from the truth but you didn’t want to tell them what happened. You were in your room making some finishing touches before you left to go out with them, when one of your Dad’s friends had walked into your room, you thought you had locked your door but you must’ve forgotten. He walked up behind you and his body was pressed against yours before he slinked his hand up under your dress and brushed his hand over your upper thigh. You snapped around and punched him before you ran, you could hear him yelling at you afterwards, and you Dad yelling at him, but all you could do was run, and to the safe place you knew no one would come looking for you. Thanking the heavens above that Jona somehow gave you a pass that meant you could go to the training grounds at all times. You quickly got changed into your training kit and took off your makeup before setting an alarm on your phone and falling asleep on one of the couches.

That day during treatment you flinched every time one of the physios touched you, and when he moved his hand up to your thigh you felt your body tense up and your breath becoming laboured, when he applied pressure to start working you bolted straight out of the room, the touch bringing back all the feelings from the night before. You found yourself in a room, full of your teammates, who all worried over but when you finally calmed back down they all left except for one, your captain. Who gave you a pointed look as you made contact with her eyes.

“I’m fine” you reiterated to her for probably the 100th time that hour.

“You know you can talk to us anytime, about anything,” Alexia reassured you.

“Si, I do, but I don’t need to because I’m fine,” she gave you a very unconvincing nod before walking out, leaving you to be by yourself. The team knew you weren’t fine. You constantly showed up to training with bruises that were slightly too dark or too big to be caused by whatever your excuse had been that time, but you were clumsy so they never really questioned it. However Alexia had kept a mental note of when they happened and what your excuses were and she couldn't help but see that there was a pattern. Then there was the incident last week when you were calling some of them and your Dad started yelling at you, and calling you names. You tried to convince them that it was because he had tripped over because you had left your boots and bag and other stuff all over the floor which caused him to stub his toe, however they all felt that it was a very poor excuse to yell at your child in such a way but you just brushed them off.

One week later you found yourself laying on a yoga mat in the gym, you were flat on your back as you stared straight up at the ceiling. Alexia had come over and placed a mat down next to yours, she didn't say anything but just laid there next to you on her back, as the team filtered out to go to the pitch for training neither of you made an effort to move. 

Several different thoughts ran through your head as you laid there next to her for quite some time. You were having an internal battle in your head of whether you opened up to her or not, maybe she would help, maybe this wasn’t normal. But maybe she would tell you it was your fault, you had a short dress on that night, that was slightly slutty, were you asking for it? Had you deserved all of it, all the yelling, the hitting.

“He-he, tried to touch me,” you blurted out, one side of the fight winning, your words caused her to bolt straight up, sitting crossed legged on her mat facing you.

“Who did? Your Dad?” she asked.

“No one of his friends,” you said, shaking your head.

“Did he?” she asked, concerned. “No, not really, I mean he put his hand up my dress, he was leaning forward into me and he touched my thigh, but I quickly moved away from him and punched him and ran, while I was running he was saying something about reporting me for hitting him, but I don’t think he did because I could hear Dad saying something about them finding out if he did because the police would show up to the house,” you said as tears started to flow out of your eyes.

“Find what out?” Alexia asked, confused, wondering what had been happening.

“That he abuses me, they would see the holes in the walls from where he would try and punch me but miss, the shattered mirror that I glued back together, it smashed because he threw it at me, but they wouldn’t see the emotional things, they would only see the physical things. The name calling, the swearing, they couldn’t see that, it would be his word against mine,” you continued as your shoulders started to shake as your cries turned into harsh heavy sobs, “I’m sorry,” you cried out as you rolled over onto your stomach, head resting in your arms as a puddle formed on the underneath you.

“Oh Nena,” Alexia sighed as she went to place a hand on your back, “please don’t touch me,” you asked and she obeyed, quickly retracting her arm, “b-but, please, s-stay” you hesitantly asked her. You felt broken, like there was something wrong with you, how didn’t you notice it wasn’t normal. You thought you had a broken home but at the same time, you never spoke about it so maybe everyone had a broken home and just didn’t talk about it, but since being at Barça you slowly started to realise that what was happening in your home wasn’t normal and wasn’t okay, but it was normal to you, to you being called an idiot, or a stupid bitch was normal, being told you were too lazy or not good enough was normal, being scared to take a step in your own home was normal. Constantly living on the edge and not feeling comfortable in your own home was normal. It was normal in your extended family as well, you came from a long line of toxic men, there was no one to show you that what you were experiencing was abnormal, until now. Men drinking until they passed out was normal. Men controlling the house was normal. Women only dated Men, even in a different universe you would never see a Woman dating a Woman in your family. But somehow Barça had shown you this wasn’t normal.

Alexia’s heart ached as she watched sobs rack your body, she just wanted to hold you tight and tell you it would all be okay, but she couldn't. She had to respect your boundaries and give you some control back.

But you soon found yourself sitting in her lap, your body having gravitated to the warmth and safety she seemed to provide. Your hands clutched to her shirt.

“Nena, can I hug you?” She asked not wanting to do anything against your will, you nodded into her chest and she wrapped her arms around you. You suddenly felt safe, cared for, loved, it suddenly all came crashing down, this team loved you, you had never really experienced that before, and you broke down even more. You were now gasping for air as your body shook, Alexia’s concern for you was rapidly growing.

“Nena, I need you to breath, you’re going to make yourself sick,” She told you, “I-I can’t” you told her as you struggled to suck in air, “Yes, you can Nena, just in and out, focus on my chest moving up and now,” you managed to slightly calm down, but it was barely, your were still shaking and your sobs still racked your body, but you were no longer gasping for air. Alexia put her headphones over your ears and made sure to turn on the noise cancelling feature, she needed to call someone for help but didn’t want you to have to listen in, you didn’t mind, you kind of liked the quietness they provided you. She called Mapi.

Mapi, I need you and Ingrid to take me and Nena home now.

[dancingtotuyo]

Part I

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: Tommy gets himself into more trouble than he can get out of.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: US justice system (it don't work, probably bad understanding of how it operates), mention of drugs & weapons, alcohol consumption, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: when I planned this out, I didn’t realize I’d scheduled the first chapter to drop on Pedro’s birthday! So happy birthday to him!

Shout out to @janaispunkfor beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for letting me scream about this endlessly and shaping this world. Finally, @saradika-graphics for sustaining our fic writers with an endless supply of dividers!

Words: 4396

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

You’re asleep, or at least you should be except the phone is ringing and the bed is cold next to you. That’s a bad sign. It always is. 

A small grunt echoes from your gut as bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor. You can’t find the phone before it stops, buried under clothes you haven’t folded, scribbled crayon drawings, and bleary eyes. It starts back almost immediately.

“Tommy?”

“He called me.” Joel’s voice echoes through the line. “It’s bad this time.”

“How bad?”

“He asked for a lawyer.”

You press your palm to your forehead. “Shit!”

“The sitter is on her way to yours. I’m getting Sarah up now. We’ll be there in 10.”

“Thank you, Joel.”

“Of course. See you soon.”  Joel hangs up. 

You roam through the laundry basket for a clean pair of jeans and an acceptable t-shirt. You run a toothbrush through your mouth to freshen your breath. You do your best to push back all the possibilities running through your brain. 

You crack open the door to Nathaniel’s room. Your two-year-old son sleeps tightly, his mop of black curls spread out on the pillow. You want to run your hand through his curls and kiss his cheek, but he’s the world’s lightest sleeper, just like his daddy. 

The sitter is there 5 minutes later, all too familiar with this routine for your liking. Joel ushers in a bleary-eyed minutes later. He tucks her into the spare room bed. Sarah doesn’t ask questions. She’s asleep before he can kiss her head.

You move like the well-oiled machine that you are. He grabs your purse, ensuring the checkbook is there while you say a few words to the sitter. Joel hands you the small black bag and a light jacket.

Doors open before you and close without you touching them. You and Joel are riding down the highway. The windows are cracked, the breeze playing through your hair as street lights play off the windows, growing bigger and brighter as your eyes fill with tears. You chew on your thumb as the thoughts finally begin to take over.  

You’ve felt Tommy slipping these past few months. You’ve tried to ignore it, excuse it. He’s had a hard time adjusting. This is hardly the first time he’s been in jail. It feels like a weekly occurrence at this point, but he’s never needed a lawyer. He’s never been held longer than overnight. 

“Did he say what they got him for?”

“No… he asked me to come alone.”

“Fucking hell.” You run a hand over your face. Tommy’s antics are aging you prematurely. 

“He’s going to be okay.”

“Says who?” You snap. “We’ve been doing this dance for months, Joel! I know he’s having a hard time adjusting, but maybe we’ve been giving him too much room.”

Joel sighs, letting silence fall over the truck cabin. His blinker clicks as you turn into the familiar station. You wonder if the night shift is actually going to fulfill their punch card offer this time. 

Joel has barely pushed the truck into park before you’re out of the vehicle, flying through the front doors. Joel is hot on your heels, not bothering to lock his beat-up pickup. 

Your ID is already on the desk, you don’t even have to say a name. The officer at the front desk doesn’t need your license. He barely looks at it. It’s all a raging formality. They escort you to a room, not a holding cell as you’re used to.

Tommy sits at a table talking to a tired-looking public defender. His head snaps up, eyes jumping from your face to Joel’s behind you. “I told you to come alone.”

“The fuck you did Thomas James Miller!” You say before Joel can defend himself.

Tommy stands to his feet, the chair skidding back. “You’re not supposed to be here for this!”

“I’m your wife! You call me!”

“Or maybe you should be home with your child!”

“Oh, I should be home with our son? And what about you?”

“I’m not having this fight with you right now.” Tommy throws his hands in the air moving his attention to Joel who leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “You were supposed to come alone!”

“What’re you in for?” You ask, not giving Joel a chance to answer. Not that he was going to. He knows not to let Tommy deflect to him when you are around. 

Tommy sighs falling into the chair like a rag dog. Stress lines engrave themselves deep into his forehead.

“Tommy…” A pit drops in your stomach. “What did they get you with?”

“A gun-“

“Without a permit.” The Lawyer speaks for the first time. There’s a roll to Tommy’s eyes. 

“And?” 

Tommy can’t meet your eyes. He shuffles in his seat. 

“Tommy,” Joel says, voice low and gruff. It’s automatic, parental even.

“A couple grams of coke.”

“Fucking hell, Tommy.” Joel hits his head against the wall. 

“I didn’t- I never took it. I promise.”

You take a shaking breath, trying to calm your worn nerves. “So what are we looking at here?” You ask, eyes trained on the lawyer. 

You see Tommy out of your peripheral vision using his pleading puppy dog eyes on you. You square your shoulders determined not to fall for it. They’re the reason you’re in this boat in the first place. 

“Babe-“

You hold up a hand cutting him off, eyes trained on the lawyer. “What are we looking at?”

“Probably Jail time. DA’s office has been cracking down on these kinds of cases the past few months.”

“Is he getting out tonight?”

The lawyer shakes his head. “We have to wait until tomorrow for arraignment and bail.”

“Then, I’ll see you two tomorrow.” You give them a firm nod, exiting the room in a flash.

The Texas air wraps around you as you exit the stale police station. Joel’s pick-up is cool under your fingers, anchoring you to something.

This can’t be happening. You’ve felt him slipping through your fingertips for months, but you wonder if this is it if this is the moment you lose Tommy for good. 

Firm arms wrap around your waist. It’s a warmth you’ve become way too familiar with over the last couple of years. You turn around, letting your tears soak Joel’s shirt as they have so many times before. You twist his shirt in your fists as he cradles your head against his chest. There’s a slight sway in his movements, soothing your wrenching soul. 

“We’re going to get through this.”

“He had cocaine!”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s going to kill me.”

“Let’s get you home. Get some sleep.” Joel squeezes you and then guides you into the passenger side seat. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“What time is-“

“Lawyer said about 11. Wants us to meet them at the courthouse at 10.”

You nod, clearing the tears. “Okay.”

The drive home is quiet. You’re used to Tommy throwing out every excuse in the book, promising he’s going to change. The silence makes you want to scream. How do you go forward? How do you explain to Nathaniel that Daddy won’t be home for a long time? Jail Time. It bounces off the walls of your brain like a gong over and over. 

You’ve done this before. Raise your son alone. Tommy was overseas when Nathaniel was born. You did the first 3 months on your own- or sort of alone. Joel and Sarah spent many nights at your and Tommy’s home those first few months helping you through the learning curve of being a new parent. If you’re completely honest, you’re still doing it alone, but now with a shell of a man to look after as well. 

Joel hands the sitter cash and she’s gone without a word. Your purse and jacket are forgotten on the chair as you collapse onto the couch, holding your head in your hands. The weight of the night threatens to finally break you. 

“Here.” The cool weight of a bottle presses against your jeans.

“Thank you.” You take it, tipping the bottle back in unison with Joel in a quiet ritual. 

“I think I’m just gonna crash on the couch tonight.”

You nod, a humorless huff leaving your chest. “Just like the good ole days, I guess.” 

Joel looks over your profile, catches the wear in your frame, the silent tears slipping from your eyes. The rattle in your chest changes from sarcastic to sorrow and then a sob slips from your lips. 

Joel sets his beer on the coffee table, arm slipping around your shoulders. He pulls your loose body into his side. For the second time that night, your face burrows into his chest. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, Darlin’. We’ll get through this.” His voice is soft and soothing. His fingers brush softly over your head down to the back of your neck. You fall asleep like that, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. 

You wake up to the morning sun, your body stiff from sleeping on the couch against Joel. He’s up, the smell of coffee wafting toward you. You hear him talking to Sarah and Nathaniel in the kitchen. 

You stand, stretching out your sore muscles in wrinkled clothing following the promise of caffeine. Sarah and Nathaniel sit at the kitchen table with syrupy smiles. 

“Mommy!” Nathaniel yells. 

You force a sleepy smile, kissing his sticky cheek. “Morning, sweet cheeks.” You dip your finger in the syrup on his plate, licking it off your fingertip making him and Sarah laugh. “Morning, Sarah Bear.”

“Morning, Auntie,” She says. “Your clothes are wrinkled.”

Joel’s hand lands on your back and a cup of coffee lands in your hands, sending warmth through your body. The hum in your body is automatic. “Thank you.”

Joel only nods, returning his attention to the pancakes sizzling on the stovetop. You sip on the hot coffee. Joel prepared it exactly how you like it, just like he always does.

 “You hate pancakes.” 

“Yeah, but the gremlins love them.”

“That they do.” You grin, sipping on the coffee again. “Ugh, it’s infuriating the way you come into my home and make better coffee than I do.”

Joel chuckles, flipping two fluffy pancakes onto a plate. He tops them with cut-up strawberries and whipped cream handing them to you with the biggest shit-eating grin. “And pancakes.”

For a minute you forget it all, the impending arraignment, your husband in jail for unregistered weapons and drug possession, the two children sitting mere feet away. It’s just you and Joel and a stack of whipped cream-covered pancakes. Joel who held your hand through labor and helped you with midnight feedings. The man who got you through Tommy’s deployment. The one who always calls the sitter and drives you to the police station when Tommy gets himself in trouble. You and your rock. 

The shattering of glass echoes through the kitchen. “Uh-oh!”

You spin around, taking in the broken glass on the floor. Orange juice leaks over the table, dripping over the edge. You and Joel spring into action, pancakes forgotten. “Both of you stay in your seats,” You say.

Joel grabs the broom before you, sweeping up the shards, his feet already protected in his boots. You turn off the stove, keeping an eye on both children to ensure you don’t add bloodied feet to your morning agenda. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” Sarah says, keeping her feet crisscrossed beneath her. She looked up at you. “Sorry about your glass, Aunt Bonnie.”

You smile at her, handing Joel a towel to soak up the spilled juice. “It’s okay, Sarah bear. I just want you to be okay.”

She nods back, curls bouncing around her face. “I’m okay.”

You sigh, staring at the pancakes on the counter. The whipped cream has melted into a lopsided mound, half of it turned back into cream that soaks through the pancakes. You take a bite, the flavors settling nicely over your tongue even if the texture of the pancakes is slightly off. For a man who claims not to like them, Joel Miller sure knows how to make a mean pancake. 

Your mind plays back to the nickname. Not many people call you Bonnie anymore. Just a few years ago, it had been a constant. Stemming from Tommy’s group of army buddies, they declared you Bonnie for always stealing Tommy away from their group cookouts and whatnot, and Tommy was Clyde due to his propensity for getting into trouble. For whatever reason, probably just to annoy you, Tommy had introduced you to Sarah as “His Bonnie.” So that’s what she calls you. 

Joel empties the remaining shards into the trash can. Several high-pitched clinks sound off until the shards settle. Your fork stirs the whipped cream and syrup together. 

“Pancakes are usually best eaten, not played with.” Joel teases, picking his coffee up to take a sip. His fingers graze your arm as he sets it back down, returning the broom back to its rightful place.

”You don’t even like pancakes.” You furrowed your brow, taking another bite. Whipped cream marks your upper lip. You take another bite. “God, one day you have to tell me your secret.”

Joel chuckles. He leans across the counter, elbows resting against the granite much like yours. He sips on his coffee, eyes watching as you stuff another bite into your mouth. “I’ve got many secrets, Darlin.”

You laugh, mouth full of fruit and cream. “You’re an open fucking book, Miller.”

”I think I could surprise you several times over.” He chuckles. Something sparks behind his eyes like he’s actually keeping something from you. You’ll figure it out. You always do. 

“These are delicious, Joel, but if I take another bite, I’m gonna be sick.”

Joel frowns. “You feeling okay? You don’t have a fever do you?” He presses his fingers to your forehead before you can roll your eyes. 

“Anxiety.”

Joel nods. “You’ve got a little-“ He motions to his mouth.

You cock your head to the side brain not picking up on the obvious signals. He sighs in mock exasperation. Reaching forward, he wipes the whipped cream from your lip with his thumb, pressing the excess to his mouth. The moment catches you off guard, something stirring in the back of your mind as you zero in on the thumb pressed to his lips. 

“You should go get ready.” He says as if nothing happened, taking your plate. “We need to leave in an hour.”

You nod, pushing back from the counter. The weight of the day at hand keeps that moment from playing over and over again on a loop.

”Daddy,” Sarah says. “Isn’t it time for school?”

”You’re going to stay here with Nathaniel and Miss Lacy today. Your aunt and I have some things we have to do.”

”Oh,” Sarah nodded. “Uncle Tommy things?”

You stop, sharing a look with Joel. You’ve tried your best to keep Tommy’s troubles from the kids, but it’s inevitable. Sarah is almost 6 after all. She’s always been incredibly perceptive and observant. 

“Daddy?” Nathaniel asks, looking around. Your heart breaks a little bit. 

Your mind wanders. When will he get to see Tommy again? 

Joel takes the lead when you arrive at the courthouse for which you’re grateful. You’re both dressed in nice clothing. High heels clack beneath you. A tie reaches around Joel’s neck. You hold Tommy’s suit in a garment bag as a guard leads you to an office-like room. Tommy sits at a table with his layer from last night and another man you don’t recognize. They seem to be deep in a serious conversation. 

All three men turn as you enter, making you feel like you’re in the wrong place. You can’t tell if Tommy is relieved to see you or not. A pit forms in your stomach, like you’re not going to like the outcome of this meeting. 

“What’s going on?” You ask. 

The door clicks shut behind you as Joel’s scent creeps around you.

”We’re talking.” Tommy says. 

“About?” You press. 

Tommy sighs, unable to meet your eyes. “A plea deal.” 

You bite your lip, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. This is easier. It’s probably better in the long run, but you’re not ready to face the music. You prepared for court, not a plea deal. Not for Tommy to admit guilt with a stroke of a pen, not a judge in sight. 

“What’s in it?”

”Baby…” Tommy pleads like he wants to make amends right now. 

“What are you signing us up for, Tommy?”

“Two years and a half years. Probation after that.”

You inhale sharply. 

“It’s a good deal,” The man you’ve never seen says. “He’s looking at at least twice that if this goes to court, and he will be convicted if this goes to court.”

You look to Tommy’s lawyer for confirmation. He doesn’t make it obvious but gives you a solid nod. 

“You were about to sign it.” You look at your husband. It’s not a question. 

“Yeah.”

”I’d have appreciated it if you had talked to me first,” you say. 

“You’d have told me to sign it.”

You nod, barely keeping the tears at bay. “Yeah.”

The DA holds a pen out to Tommy. Tommy looks back at you for final permission. You give it, watching that expensive ass pen glides across the paper with Tommy’s chicken scratch of a signature. Your heart breaks with each stroke, crumbling a little more as he dots the I and crosses the T.  

Joel places a hand on your shoulder. The heat spreads, anchoring you to the moment, keeping you afloat as you stare down the barrel of being a single mother yet again. 

Tommy slides the paper back to the DA. He looks them over, tapping them against the table with a satisfied nod as if a family hadn’t been torn apart. 

“You have about 30 minutes before they come to get him.”

”That’s it?” You ask. “We can’t even take him ourselves?”

The DA shrugs like he’s being generous, igniting a deep hatred of him inside you. You don’t even know his name. He holds up the papers before sliding them into his briefcase. “Terms of the plea deal.”

You clutch your fists as he walks out of the room. Tommy’s lawyer slips out with him, and then Joel, leaving just you and Tommy. 

He stands and you finally realize it’s all happening again. You’ll be alone, worrying about your husband though this time for different reasons. 

“Baby, I-” He steps towards you. You don’t move offering zero indication that you register Tommy’s movements. 

He reaches for your hands, but you pull them back. “You weren’t supposed to take the Bonnie and Clyde thing seriously.” 

You fight back tears, turning so he can’t see them. “Pretty sure they both died.”

A humorless laugh leaves your body as you collapse onto a couch, holding your head in your hands. 

Tommy kneels in front of you, slowly peeling your hands from your face, taking them into his. Despite it all, you feel yourself melting into his familiar touch. It only confirms what you are beginning to fear. It doesn’t matter what Tommy does, you’ll always be here waiting for him. He is the love of your life and you would burn the world down to look into his sweet brown eyes and feel his skin against yours. 

You look at him through blurry eyes, sniffing back the congestion gathering in your sinuses. He gives you that crooked smile you love so much, and you feel better despite the weight bearing on your shoulders. The past three years have aged him ten. You suppose time has done the same to you.

Slowly, he presses his lips to your hands. “I know I fucked up. If-” He pauses, swallowing. His thumb plays with the thin gold band on your left hand. “If you’re not waiting for me when I get out I understand.”

You squeeze his hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Tommy snorts. “Easily? Just last week you were yelling at me for putting you through hell.”

“Yeah, well…” You run your fingers through his black curls as you sniff back your tears. “You kinda hold my heart in your hands, Tommy Miller. I don’t think I could get it back if I tried.”

He smiles at you. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands creep up your thighs as he rises to his feet. Your back collides with the plush back of the couch as your fingers tangle in his long hair. Tommy presses his tongue into your mouth, a smile growing across your face. This is the first taste of your Tommy you’ve had in months, the one you fell in love with. 

The door opens, and before Tommy can pull away, Joel’s gruff voice echoes through the room. “Prospect of going to jail really puts you two in the mood, huh?” 

Heat surges to your cheeks. You’re not sure why. You and Tommy had been caught in much more compromising positions throughout your relationship.

“Gotta get what I can while I’m still a free man.” Tommy grins at his big brother, pressing another exaggerated kiss to your lips. Joel’s eyes move to the corner of the room. Your smile feels a little more forced after that. 

Your thirty minutes fly at lightning speed. They take Tommy before you’re ready. Any energy you gain from Tommy’s affection is drained the moment he’s led out of sight. You barely catch the look he gives Joel.

”Take care of them.”

Joel nods, gripping his brother’s shoulder. There’s a silent exchange between them. “Take care of yourself.”

 A clerk goes over everything with you and Joel. You’re given a strict list of items you can drop off for Tommy at the prison. You don’t process a word, the weight of it all falling on top of you. You came to the courthouse today expecting an arraignment and bail, not to be kissing your husband goodbye for the next year and change. It feels unfair like something was taken from you. 

Joel is the one who keeps it together. He always keeps it together. He asks the questions and makes note of the important things. He secures the horde of important documents held limply in your hands. 

When the clerk says your name for a second time, or maybe a third, you’re not sure, it snaps you out of the fog. Joel’s eyes are sympathetic as he holds out a pen. His single nod tells you he has all the information in his head. You can sign. You don’t have to think. You sign as flashes of Tommy doing the same filter through your vision. 

The pen drops to the table as you push back headed straight for the nearest exit. You feel like you’re in a dream. Joel catches up, tucking everything you forgot under his arm. He grabs your elbow, steering your aimless body in the right direction. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He knows the answer. 

You feel like a toddler, wandering and lost, relying on Joel’s firm grip to get anywhere. He opens doors and boots you into his pickup, patting the door once it’s closed. The car is warm from the sun. You fumble with the seat belt, but Joel’s calloused hands are there, guiding your weary bones. 

The ride is silent. You basket in the warm sun, head pressed to the window with your eyes closed. The world feels so far away, but you’re extremely tuned into the heat of the sun, the rumble of the truck on the shitty roads, the blinking indicator light, and Joel’s listless tapping on the steering wheel when the vehicle draws to a stop from time to time, toeing the line between consciousness.

This is just a dream, right? You’ll wake up soon and Tommy will be behind you, drawing random patterns around your stomach hip, or thigh. The past year of your life and the past 12 hours have just been the world’s longest nightmare. That’s all. 

The truck lurches to a stop. The engine turns off with a distinct click. Your eyes blink open slowly. Your stretch out, toes curling in your dress shoes. Joel’s tie lays haphazardly on the dash. His cuffs are unbuttoned, pushed to his elbows, and the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt are undone. He still looks out of place in his dress attire, but a little more like himself. He hadn’t dressed this nicely for your and Tommy’s courthouse wedding. 

Your eyes drift out the windshield. A neon light reflects off your irises. This isn’t home. You look at Joel. “Why are we here?”

His seat belt comes undone with a click, snapping back. “We’re going to go in there and get drunk off our asses.”

”It’s the middle of the day.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

”Can we just go home?”

”No.”

”Why the fuck not?”

“Because we have a sitter all day, and you deserve a night before the weight of the world falls back on your shoulders.”

”Joel.” You want to go home and crawl in bed.

”This is three times longer than his deployment.” The statement hits you square in the chest. “You need this. Give yourself today. If you don’t do it now, you never will.”

You sigh, staring down the flickering neon in front of you. He’s right. You know he is. You might be exhausted, but it’s tempting. When was the last time you let go? Maybe that one good month you had after Tommy got back? When it was all making up for lost time and shit. 

“We’ve got a sitter for the whole day,” Joel says. “My treat.”

You inhale deeply, allowing the memories of drunken nights past to fill your brain. You can feel the thrum of alcohol already. You haven’t cut loose in a long time unless you count the nights spent at home alone drowning away the world after you’d tucked your son in for the night. 

Your fingers press the red release button of your seat belt. The metal buckle hits the window. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Joel smiles, dragging you inside.  

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal

[litnerdwrites]

Suddenly, the reasoning behind Nesta's sudden institutionalisation, and forced training, after waiting over a year to help her, makes perfect sense. No, it's not because Feyre sobbed into her eggs one morning or because they care about helping her.

It's because of the trove.

rainkatzanddogs on tiktok, put together a timeline for the SJM universe, and for each events, references which chapter (including bonus content) they take place in. I'll be referencing that in this post.

Feyre learned about Nesta's 500 gold marks spending spree one day before the start of ACOSF, right before Rhysand explains his plan. The one that Cassian believed he'd made a while back, given how detailed it was. The next day is when the intervention happens, and after that, Rhysand asks Cassian to look into the Human queens.

If he's asking Cassian to look into it at this point, then we can assume that he has reasonable evidence to suggest that they're doing something shady. By this point, according to the timeline, Baron has already made a deal with them, Eris' soldiers are under the Crowns control, and have been for a month. Meaning Briallyn has had the crown for longer than a month.

16 days after the start of ACOSF, they have the meeting where they use Elain to manipulate Nesta into searching for the trove.

I think it's reasonable to assume that the IC had some idea about the trove, and if not that specifically, than that magical items were being used by a death god and a cauldron made queen to control people. It would be naive to think they were completely ignorant of what was going on. Even by the time that first meeting takes place, they clearly have a decent level of knowledge on the trove, how to find it, and who's currently looking for it.

It isn't unreasonable to think that Rhys had some idea that they'd need Nesta to scry for them or to help them later on. So, he devised a plan where she trains, and works in the library so she'd be ready to help them when they need it.

She'd be prepped for missions due to her training.

She'd have ample time to research and study while in the library, even if she only shelves books, she'd know where to find the ones she needed to research whatever they asked of her,

And since her life would be in their hands, they could make her do anything without her arguing that she's a free citizen, because at this point, she isn't.

They used the guise of it being healing as a way to pitch the idea to Feyre and Elain, even though neither of them seemed to have an issue manipulating her into doing what they wanted, since they likely discussed the using Elain to convince her to scry, because Elain didn't seem to surprised when they didn't ask her to do it later, nor did she seem bothered when Nesta ended up doing it anyway. Hell, she literally came in to say she'd do it, got under Nesta's skin, and left without listening and/or contributing to the conversation anymore than that.

Cassian seemed hell bent on making her into a warrior from the moment they met, despite her wishes, and since he so blatantly doesn't care for her or her autonomy at all, he's obviously in, so he can get what he wants. A mate that's a warrior and his emotional punching bag to take out his insecurities on, but also has her own insecurities and traumas, so she'd never go against him and he could continue to flirt with Mor and (let's be real) Rhys without worrying about said mate having the strength to stand up to him.

It was never about helping Nesta, it was all a rouse to make her into a tool that was useful to them, with little risk. If she dies, she's no longer a problem for them, or anything to fear. If she lives, she's either contained forever, or heals into the perfect tool for them to use whenever they want. It's a win-win for Rhys and Cassian.

[sxfterhearts]

full of you(r love)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ softdom!jiung x little girl!reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: smut (18+ mdni nsfw), unprotected sex, dd/lg themes, mention of safeword (but not used), emotional sex (is this a warning?), porn with a lot of plot

♡ word count: 3,550 words

♡ author's note: i'm scared cos this fic i've been working on for the past month is going out into the world.. pls be kind im a fluff writer with no smut experience but choi jiung made me write this?!???! dedicating this fic to all my lovely tumblr moots and anons who encouraged me throughout this process, and especially @348kg (this fic wouldnt exist without u) and @kisseobie (ur my inspiration rosa) <333 fr smut writers yall are elite u have my respect omfg

//

“Yeah? Are you sure, eomma? I think it’s looking a little too red… Oh wait,” Jiung paused mid-sentence, lips lifting automatically into a smile as he heard the familiar chime of the keypad  code being punched into the door. You were home, finally. “Y/N’s home. Yeah, mhmm… Okay, I’ll tell her that. Yup, okay… Yeah, one spoon, got it. Thank you so much! Mhmm, I’m hanging up. Okay, love you too, bye!”

He turned around, placing his red phone in the pocket of his apron, a gift you got him when he declared he wanted to learn how to cook better meals. Jiung turned the fire down to a low simmer, but not before inhaling the fragrant aroma of his own home cooking. Smiling proudly, he wiped his hands on the apron and made his way towards the entrance of your shared apartment. “Y/N! You’re back.”

The smile was promptly wiped off his face when he saw your dishevelled figure at the doorway, struggling to peel your goddamned heels off your sore feet. The hair that you usually wore up in a ponytail was hanging towards the floor in a frizzy black mop. You bore such a close resemblance to the female ghosts in those old-school horror movies that Jiung nearly jumped in fright. 

“Hey, let me.” He called out softly, crouching down to undo the straps of your heels and peel your bag off your tired shoulders, before carefully placing the shoes back on the shelves. 

“Jiung…” You mumbled, voice small and tired. You huffed out a deep sigh. “I had the worst day ever, I’m not even joking.”

Jiung looked at you and took you in, like really took in your entire being, and realised that he had not seen you in such a state for a while. “Yeah?” He smiled sympathetically, arms coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him and guiding your heavy head to rest against his broad shoulders. His palm cradled the back of your head, smoothing down your hair and pressing his lips against your temples in greeting. 

“Yeah, my stupid manager doesn’t understand that I can’t deliver the same results because we are literally one man down. What am I supposed to do when the other manager is on leave for a whole month? Why doesn’t he understand that I can’t train my staff and lead the project at the same time? It’s so frustrating. And whenever I try to voice out my concerns, it’s like he’s deaf or something, I swear…” You grumbled angrily.

“Hmm,” Jiung hummed, listening intently. “It does sound like a really tough day, baby. But you know what will make it better?”

“Hmm?”

“I made you dinner.”

As if on cue, Jiung felt, rather than heard, your stomach grumble, signalling your hunger. His brows scrunched up as he asked, yet fearing the answer altogether, “When was the last time you ate, Y/N?”

You went silent. 

Jiung sighed, shaking his head. “C’mon, silly girl. I made your favourite. It’s my mum’s recipe too. Just sit and I’ll get it ready for you.”

It was your turn to shake your head this time. “No, your baby wants hugs.” You insisted childishly, your cool, strict manager facade from work disappearing the moment you were in the presence of your boyfriend of four years. You pouted and hugged him tighter, absolutely refusing to budge.

Jiung laughed, finding your current state endearing. He knew it was because you were so tired and worn out, and decided to make the most of the opportunity. “Fine, it’s up to you. You are my baby, after all…”

As the night wore on, you refused to leave his side for even a moment, sticking to Jiung like a koala clung to a tree. You insisted on hugging him from behind as he scooped the kimchi jjigae into two separate bowls, topping them with spring onions and a teaspoon of sesame oil each and serving them up with bowls of steaming, multigrain rice. You held on tight as you sat on his lap at the dining table, limbs intertwining with his as you begged him to feed you instead, feeling ‘too tired’ all of a sudden to even lift a spoon because of the rough work day. You even grasped the hem of his white, paper thin t-shirt desperately when he so much as got up to grab more side dishes from the fridge, insisting that he let you stay like this for longer because you missed him way too much.

“Baby…” Jiung cooed, repositioning his big hands on your hips, reaching under your tight work blouse to caress your soft skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. “What is it? I know you’ve had a hard time today, but you’re very clingy.” He lightly teased, eyes downcast as he looked at you with feigned suspicion. In reality, after being together for so long, it wasn’t hard for Jiung to know your true intentions.

You refused to meet his eyes, pretending to pay him no mind as you chewed on the last mouthful of rice, all while twirling the strings of his apron around your fingers. 

“Babe…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to be a good girl and use your words? Hmm?” He prompted, voice turning slightly harder.

When you failed to respond, Jiung used his long, slim fingers to tilt your chin towards him and hold it there. “Words, baby. I need you to say something, okay?”

Your desperate, pleading eyes met his unwavering gaze, and you felt your body shiver at the intensity behind it. “Yeah…” You whispered, suddenly feeling small.

“What do you need… Can you tell me?” Jiung pressed on, yet his eyes caught sight of a stray piece of rice lingering on the corner of your lips. He moved his thumb towards the rice and both of you followed his movement. As though in slow motion, your tongue darted out to lick his finger – shy, like a kitten. When you noticed that he didn’t respond, and just tracked your next move with the eyes of a hawk, you daringly relaxed your jaw and sucked it into your wet, warm mouth.

Jiung felt his cock stir under two layers of clothing and your plush ass.

You saw how his pupils blew out. Feeling satisfied with the effect you had on him, you released his thumb with a loud pop. “Jiung, can you take care of me tonight, please?” You asked shyly, batting your eyelashes. The stark contrast between the lewd request and your bashful tone made your boyfriend’s head spin.

Behind closed doors, you were completely comfortable with Jiung taking full control and treating you like his baby girl. Tonight was no different. It wasn’t often that you got the opportunity to take things all the way. In fact, you struggled to even remember when was the last time Jiung even called you his baby. Especially not since you started on this project, which has been the cause of all your grievances in the past three months.

But tonight, you were determined to break the drought. Something within you snapped this afternoon when your boss made a big show of throwing your report in the trash whilst yelling colourful profanities in front of the entire team. It was the last straw after a series of small, seemingly insignificant inconveniences that eventually snowballed. You felt like a pressure cooker, finally exploding at your incompetent boss.

The entire torment drained you so much that truthfully, you really didn’t want to do anything for yourself anymore. Sure, you could feed yourself, and sure, you could sit upright on your own, but you really appreciated that since stepping foot into the apartment, Jiung had taken care of everything – from removing your shoes, to making sure you were fed and comfortable. You didn’t even need to think; you just trusted and knew that he would shut your brain down and handle everything for you.

Being someone who was naturally independent and strong-headed in the workplace, you knew that anyone who found out you acted like this with your boyfriend would hang their jaws in utter disbelief. Yet here you were, being carried to the sofa by Jiung as you nibbled on his neck in fervour.

“You sure you want this tonight, baby?” Jiung sat you down and kneeled at eye-level in front of you to ask, all serious and concerned. But his mind was slowly getting clouded as your teeth sunk into a soft spot close to his earlobes, sucking greedily. “There’s no turning back for you if you say yes, and…” He paused to take a breath, letting his responsibility over you rise up to the surface. “I will take care of you as always, but you’re in quite a state now, and I don’t want to risk you having a bad time.”

Jiung felt you nod wordlessly in response, but it wasn’t enough for him. The soft dom inside of him was screaming for your verbal consent. “Baby, if you don’t tell me our safe word now, I’m going to have to stop, okay?” He warned, using the tone you registered as being slightly stern when you descended into your little persona. 

“Blue,” You muttered directly into his ears. You rubbed your thighs together involuntarily. Truthfully, you had been thinking about this since you were in the office, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in any longer. “It’s blue, please… I thought about this at work…” Your lips moved closer and captured his earlobe, sucking on it in a silent attempt to speed things up.

Shit shit shit – Jiung could only let out a choked hum as you attacked his sensitive spot. He knew that even though you were his little girl, deep down you were still a vixen begging and yearning to be fucked, and he knew you knew all the right buttons to push to get what you wanted.

He was never very good at denying you, anyway. Jiung spoiled you rotten, he thought, as he pulled you away from him. “Sit up for me, baby. I want you to be a good girl for me and suck my cock first. Can you do that?”

You nodded way too eagerly, eyes shining and lips parted as you looked up at him, waiting for Jiung to rid himself of his sweats and boxers, all in one go. You felt saliva pool in the back of your throat as you finally caught sight of the main prize. Jiung was not extremely long or girthy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, as your clammy fingers wrapped around what was undoubtedly the most perfect cock you’ve ever seen. You liked how your small fingers struggled slightly to wrap all the way around, forcing you to use both hands as you guided the swollen tip towards your waiting mouth. Greedy, your tongue peeked out to sneak a taste of his glistening pre-cum. 

Giggling, you hummed to yourself in satisfaction before letting a comment slip, “It’s nice…”

Jiung was halfway to losing his mind but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. You were, after all, his adorable, precious girl. “Well,” He placed an encouraging hand on your cheek, “I’m glad you think so.”

You nodded in agreement, letting your hands wander across his midriff, fingers ghosting over the black butterflies peeking through his thin shirt. He helped you by raising the shirt and capturing the hem between his teeth, skin tingling with excitement as you licked every tattoo on his upper body with your slick, hot tongue.

Once you were satisfied, you finally allowed yourself to indulge in his intoxicating scent. Mirroring your earlier actions, you let Jiung into your welcoming mouth, quickly sucking and swirling your tongue around his length at a steady pace. Instantly, he released the shirt from his lips and let out a long moan.

Hearing his noises only spurred you on further. Determined, one hand reached underneath to massage his balls while the other fisted the rest of his uncovered length, doing everything at once – a three-in-one, if you will, in the hopes of driving Jiung absolutely insane.

“Baby… Fuck, how are you so good at this?” He grunted. “Who taught you to be this good, hmm?”

You tried to answer with an excited “You!” but seemed to have forgotten about the dick in your mouth, making you cough and sputter before swallowing even more of him in. Jiung had to forcefully grip your hair into a ponytail to keep himself in check, fighting the primitive urge to continue choking you with his thick cock. 

But why did he want to fight, you wondered? You recovered from the slip up like a champ, quickly relaxing your throat muscles to take in more of his length until both of you groaned at the impact of his tip kissing the back of your throat. You gagged, feeling your pussy leak and clench around nothing.

Jiung wasn’t faring any better as he screwed his eyes shut, groaning deeply. He lost partial control of his lower body as he rutted against that same spot again and again, selfishly hoping that you would gag on his cock over and over. “Ah, your mouth is so perfect for me…”

Your pussy pulsed at the praise, always a sucker for pleasing your boyfriend both in and outside of the bedroom. You wanted him to use you until he was painting ropes of white sticky hot cum on your face, but it seemed like he had other plans, suddenly yanking your face away from his pulsing, red cock.

You just stared at him, mouth agape in shock at the abrupt stop. 

The next thing you knew, you were being carried bridal style towards the bedroom. Jiung set you down gently in the middle of the bed, amongst a small army of your favourite plushies. He fluffed the pillows under your head, arranged your body in a comfortable position below him and tucked a lock of hair behind your ears. 

“Hey,” He breathed, nose bumping against yours. “Just checking in, how are you feeling?”

At that, you felt hot tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. How did you ever get so lucky to land someone like him? He was always so sweet and caring with you. Overwhelmed, you could only nod, feeling a flurry of emotions bubble up to the surface.

“Hey, hey, baby…” Jiung’s finger captured a stray tear, concerned. “Do you want to keep going? You know we can stop at any time.”

You nodded in affirmation, looking up at him with pleading, sparkling eyes. At that moment, Jiung thought you had never looked so devastatingly beautiful. He swore to himself that he would always be your lover, and your protector.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.”

And you believed Jiung with your whole heart. You closed your eyes and felt him kiss away your tears as his fingers slowly unbuttoned your blouse. Little by little, your stress and worries melted away with the feathery touch of his lips against your exposed skin. He pressed open-mouth kisses trailing from the top of your bra to your navel, swiftly pulling down your slacks, leaving you in your underwear. Somehow, while you were losing yourself to the sensations, Jiung managed to pull your favourite pair of frilly, knee high socks over your legs. Partly because he knew your feet get cold easily, but mostly because he liked how they hugged your thighs.

“My sweet girl…” Jiung pressed a thumb to your white-ribboned panties, feeling a wet spot at your centre. His breath caught in his throat at your leaking arousal. 

You could only whine, hips pressing against his palm in search of more friction. 

Jiung got the message, undoing your bra then pulling down your panties in quick succession, leaving you bare for him. “So perfect,” he whispered to himself more than anything, blood rushing to his hardened length. His mouth latched onto your left nipple as he rolled the right one between eager fingers. 

“Jiung…” You sighed, pleasure coursing through your veins like an electric shock. “Please…”

After a harsh suck, he released your nipple with a loud pop. “Please what, baby?” 

“Please, I want you inside…” You whined, greedy for more.

“Baby, I need to prep you first.” He thumbed the entrance of your sweet hole, gathering your slick before swiftly pushing inside.

You huffed, shaking your head. One finger was not enough anymore. “Want you inside now, please!”

Jiung’s cock twitched at your words. “But it’ll hurt –” 

“I want it to, please! I just want to feel you deep inside,” You were desperate at this point, begging him to fill you up. “Thought about this all day!”

Jiung cursed under his breath, turned on beyond belief at your eagerness. What his baby wants, his baby gets.

He slowly eased his hard length past the walls of your pussy, the glide aided by a mix of your saliva from earlier and your wet juices. Then, with one quick thrust, he slammed all the way in, the curved tip of his cock kissing your cervix. The two of you moaned out in unison, relieved to finally be back home in each other’s bodies. 

“Missed this…” Jiung was struggling to get the words out. It had been too long since you were last intimate and he forgot how tight your little cunt was. “Miss feeling you around me.”

You could only moan pathetically in response, eyes rolled back in pure pleasure. You felt so full of him, and so full of his love for you.

Jiung waited patiently for you to adjust to his size, all while pressing tender kisses along your jaw, and lightly rubbing the cool tip of his nose against your rosy cheeks. 

He caged you in with his arms, and rested his warm forehead against yours. You basked in his hot breaths fanning across your flushed cheeks as your pussy clenched and unclenched to adjust to his size. You craned your neck upwards, and Jiung understood you immediately, devouring your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Your tongues tangled in a fiery dance whilst all your thoughts melted away. Your anxious brain was calm once more, as you surrendered your body and mind entirely to Jiung.

“Ready?” He asked, thumbs rubbing circular patterns against your waist.

You hummed, hips rolling up in search of friction. Jiung got the message, and pulled out gently before thrusting in deep. “God, Y/N… You’re so perfect for me, so good.”

He was making love to you – there was no doubt about it. Anyone could tell, from the way he rocked his hips with conviction, to the way his eyebrows scrunched in concentration, determined to make you feel good. Jiung was a passionate lover. And with each thrust, he replaced the hurt and frustration with love and blissful pleasure.

You were so lost in it; in him, and the way that he made you feel like you were floating on cloud nine. It was just you and him, and nothing else. It was such a relief to be treated like this by someone who loved you as much as Jiung did. Your lips, which were permanently casted into a frown throughout the work day, worked itself into a soft smile. You closed your eyes and just allowed the pleasure to course through your entire body. 

Jiung, noticing that you were getting lost in the moment, helped to gather your legs and wrap them around his waist for you. He held them there, enjoying the slight burn as the fabric of your socks rubbed against his back. That way, he could make sure your bodies were impossibly close. 

“You okay?” Jiung breathed, nudging your cheeks with his before pressing his lips on your forehead. 

You could only moan in response, clenching your walls every single time he thrusted into you. The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper, and that combined with the way his fingers played with your clit, had you inching closer and closer to your sweet release.

“Jiung – Ah! Close…” 

He kept hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars, while his fingers picked up speed. You could feel yourself tethering at the edge of the precipice. All it took was a –

“I love you, baby, no matter what, I love you more than you know…” Jiung professed his love before pressing his lips to yours for the nth time that night. “Yeah, that’s it. I gotchu, you’re safe with me.” That was more than enough to bring you over the edge.

Your velvety walls clenched around him so tight that he quickly followed, panting heavily as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

epilogue.

As you basked in the afterglow of your climaxes, you felt Jiung littering kisses all over your face, and giggled. 

“How was it?” He asked jokingly.

“Hmm…” You pretended to think about it with your eyes closed, making both of you laugh. “Thank you, really. It was just what I needed.”

“What can I say? I’m the perfect boyfriend.”

“You really are, Choi Jiung. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[kckt88]

You & Me.

Summary:

In an effort to cheer Aemond up after his break up with Y.N, Aegon drags him to a night club to drown his sorrows and his night ends up far better than he anticpated.

Warning(s): Discussion of Break Up, Alcohol Consumption, Mild Violence, Swearing, Drama, Mildly Jealous Aemond, Kissing, Smut, FIngering, P in V, Public Sex,

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 4741

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

The neon lights outside the nightclub cast an eerie glow on the cobblestone streets as Aemond begrudgingly followed his older brother, Aegon, into the thumping heart of King's Landing's nightlife.

“Aegon, I don’t know why you thought this was a good idea,” Aemond muttered, his voice drowned out by the pulsating beats that greeted them as they entered.

He adjusted the collar of his black jacket, his sharp features etched with the stoic expression he had perfected over years of hiding emotions behind a lawyer's mask.

His singular eye, darted around the room, already regretting his decision to let Aegon drag him out here.

“Come on, little brother, you need this,” Aegon responded with a grin, his tone far too cheerful for Aemond's current mood. He clapped a hand on Aemond's shoulder, steering him toward the bar. “A few drinks, a few dances, and you’ll forget all about-what was her name again?”

Aemond shot him a cold glare. “Y.N. Don’t piss me off-I’m not in the mood”

Aegon rolled his eyes, waving down the bartender. “Right, right. Y.N. The one who threw a book at your head and kicked you out.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, unable to meet his brother's amused gaze. The memory was still too fresh, too raw.

The fight had been the culmination of months of tension—tension that he hadn’t realized had built up until it exploded in his face.

He was good at his job, damn good. Targaryen Inc. relied on him to keep their clients out of trouble, to ensure the company’s interests were protected against the world of opportunists.

But being good at his job had come at a price.

The late nights at the office, the missed dinners and date nights, and the empty promises that he’d be home on time for once.

He had let work consume him, believing that it was the best way to secure the future. But in doing so, he had neglected the present—the moments that mattered most to Y.N.

He could still see the hurt in her eyes when he had stumbled into their apartment late yet again, only to be met with a cold silence that said more than words ever could.

And he had forgotten her birthday.

The realization had hit him like a punch to the gut. He had come home with nothing but exhaustion and apologies, only to see the candles on the table, half-burned and the food she’d cooked left cold and forgotten, her expression one of resigned disappointment.

It had been the final straw for her, and in a fit of rage and heartbreak, she had thrown a book at him—a heavy hardcover that had caught him off guard, leaving a stinging bruise on his temple.

“I’m done, Aemond,” she had said, her voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being second to your work. Just-go. Get out.”

And so, he had left, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a duffel bag hastily packed with essentials.

He had shown up on Aegon’s doorstep, his pride shattered, his heart in pieces.

“Two shots of Dragonfire, please,” Aegon ordered, snapping Aemond out of his thoughts. The bartender, a young woman with red hair, nodded and set to work.

Aemond leaned against the bar, feeling the weight of his exhaustion settling in his bones.

“I don’t need this,” Aemond muttered, but Aegon shook his head, pushing one of the fiery red shots into his hand.

“You do. Trust me, bro. One night of fun won’t kill you.”

Aemond hesitated, staring down at the glass in his hand. The liquid inside swirled, reminding him of the fire that had always burned inside him, the drive to succeed, to prove himself worthy of the Targaryen name.

But that fire had also driven him away from the one person who had seen him for who he truly was, not just the ambitious lawyer, not just the son of Viserys Targaryen.

With a deep breath, he downed the shot, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat.

It was a distraction, nothing more, but maybe Aegon was right. Maybe he needed to forget, just for tonight.

“Fine,” Aemond conceded, setting the empty glass down with a clink. “But don’t expect me to dance.”

Aegon laughed, clapping him on the back. “No promises, little brother. No promises.”

As the night wore on, Aemond tried to lose himself in the chaos of the club, in the thrumming music, the swirling lights, and the meaningless conversations that surrounded him.

But no matter how many drinks he had, no matter how many times Aegon tried to coax a smile out of him, he couldn’t shake the image of Y.N from his mind. Her smile, her laugh, the way she used to look at him like he was the only person in the world that mattered.

He knew he had lost her. And no amount of Dragonfire could numb that pain.

The nightclub was a blur of flashing lights and pounding music, but Aemond could hardly focus on anything beyond the gnawing emptiness inside him. He sat at the bar, nursing a drink, his thoughts inevitably drifting back to Y.N.

Despite Aegon’s best efforts to distract him, nothing seemed to penetrate the fog of regret clouding his mind.

Aegon, sensing his brother’s brooding silence, sidled up to him with a mischievous grin. “You know,” he began, leaning in close so Aemond could hear him over the music, “-the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

Aemond shot him a sidelong glance, his expression unamused. “Not happening, Aegon.”

“Come on!” Aegon laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “There are plenty of girls here tonight, you could have any one of them. And trust me, they can give you exactly what Y.N did-.”

Aemond stiffened at the mention of Y.N’s name, his grip tightening on his glass. “There’s no one like her.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, exasperated by his brother’s stubbornness. “Surely she can’t be that-you know-good.”

Aemond’s gaze turned distant, his voice quiet but resolute. “She’s better than good. And I messed it all up. I love her so much, and I was too blind to see what I had until it was too late.”

For a moment, Aegon didn’t know what to say. The cocky smirk he usually wore slipped away, replaced by something softer, more understanding. He sighed, signalling the bartender for another round.

When the drinks arrived, he pushed one towards Aemond and gently patted him on the shoulder.

“Hey, you’re not the first guy to screw things up,” Aegon said, his tone more serious than usual. “But that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You know, maybe-maybe if you talk to her, like really talk to her, you can work things out.”

Aemond stared down at his drink, the liquid inside rippling slightly as his fingers tapped the glass. “Maybe,” he murmured, though he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

The weight of his mistakes felt too heavy, the distance between him and Y.N too vast to bridge.

Aegon, sensing that the conversation was hitting too close to home, tried to lighten the mood again. “Or, you could take my advice and find a nice girl to fuck. You never know, it might help.”

Aemond shook his head with a faint smile, appreciating his brother’s efforts even if he couldn’t take the advice. “Thanks, Aegon. But I think I’ll just stick to the drinks tonight.”

Aegon chuckled, clinking his glass against Aemond’s. “Suit yourself, bro. But just remember, I’m here for you-”

Aemond managed a small smile, grateful for his brother’s support, even if the pain of losing Y.N was still too fresh to fully let go.

He took a sip of his drink, the burn of the alcohol a temporary distraction from the ache in his heart, and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, things could still be fixed.

Aemond sat at the bar, his fingers drumming restlessly on the countertop. The loud music and the constant buzz of conversation did little to drown out the thoughts racing through his mind.

He glanced at his watch, the hands creeping towards eleven, and sighed. “I think I’m gonna head home, Aegon. I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Aegon, who was on his sixth drink and showing no signs of slowing down, looked at his younger brother with a mix of disbelief and irritation. “Come on, Aemond, it’s way too early to call it a night! Stay, have a few more drinks. Just another hour at most.”

Aemond shook his head, about to insist when he noticed Aegon’s expression shift. His brother’s eyes widened, “Oh fuck-”

Aemond frowned, his heart skipping a beat. “What?”

Aegon didn’t respond immediately, instead staring out at the dance floor with a mix of surprise and something close to dread.

Aemond followed his gaze, and when he saw what—or rather, who—Aegon was looking at, his blood ran cold.

There, in the centre of the dance floor, was Y.N. She was moving gracefully to the music, her long hair swaying as she danced.

But it wasn’t just Y.N that Aemond noticed; it was the man beside her, far too close for comfort. The man leaned in, whispering something into her ear, and Aemond’s heart pounded with a mix of fury and jealousy as Y.N laughed-a laugh that used to belong to him.

Aegon leaned in, his voice low as he muttered, “I think that’s Cregan Stark”

Aemond barely heard him, his entire focus locked on the scene unfolding before him. “Who?” he asked, his voice strained.

“One of Jace’s friends,” Aegon explained quickly. “I’ve seen him in passing a couple of times. He’s usually up North, but-” Aegon trailed off, realizing Aemond wasn’t really listening anymore.

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he watched Cregan whisper something else to Y.N, and she smiled at him—his smile.

The same one she used to give him when they were still happy. When he saw Cregan’s hand slide down to rest on Y.N’s waist, something inside Aemond snapped.

Aegon’s eyes widened as he saw the change in his brother’s demeanour. “Oh, for fuck sake” he muttered, but it was too late.

Aemond was already on the move, his fury propelling him forward as he barged through the crowd, shoving people out of his way as he made a beeline for Y.N and Cregan.

Y.N gasped in surprise when she saw him, her eyes widening as he approached. “Aemond, what—”

But before she could finish, Aemond grabbed hold of Cregan and shoved him away from her.

“What the hell is your problem?” Cregan demanded, his tone sharp.

“YOU!” Aemond hissed, his gaze burning with anger. “You’re my problem, putting your hands all over my girl.”

Y.N’s expression shifted from shock to anger, and she pulled away from Aemond, her voice cutting through the tension. “I’m not your girl anymore, Aemond.”

Cregan took a step towards Y.N, but Aemond shoved him away again, his voice dangerously low. “Do not take one more step.”

Cregan squared his shoulders, clearly not backing down. “Or else what?”

Aegon appeared beside them, “Or else you’ll get the shit kicked out of you,” he said, his tone light but with a serious edge. “So, I suggest you move on.”

Cregan scoffed, his eyes narrowing at Aemond before he finally backed off, walking away and leaving Y.N standing there, fuming.

She rounded on Aemond, her voice filled with hurt and anger. “How could you?”

Aemond didn’t get a chance to respond before she stormed off, pushing her way through the crowd.

Aemond stood there for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, before glancing at Aegon. But Aegon’s attention had already shifted to a brunette girl smiling at him from across the room.

Aemond sighed, realizing he was on his own.

Determined not to let Y.N leave like this, he followed her, weaving through the crowd until he spotted her lingering near a staff entrance.

“Y.N, wait!” he called out, but she didn’t stop. He quickened his pace, finally catching up to her and grabbing her arm, his grip firm but not harsh. “Just-let me talk to you.”

Y.N shrugged him off, her voice cold. “There’s nothing to talk about, Aemond.”

But Aemond wasn’t about to let it go that easily. He reached for her again, this time more forcefully, and pushed her through the door into the staff entrance, closing it behind them.

The noise of the club was muted now, leaving them in a tense, charged silence.

Aemond’s heart raced as he looked at her, his mind swirling with everything he wanted to say, everything he needed to say. But the anger in her eyes, the hurt that still lingered there, made the words stick in his throat.

“Y.N-” he began, his voice thick with emotion, unsure of where to start but knowing he couldn’t let her walk away—not like this.

Y.N crossed her arms, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt as she looked at Aemond. “So, you can find time to go drinking with your brother, but you couldn’t find the time for me?”

Aemond’s expression tightened, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “-That tends to happen when I have to take time off work because the love of my life ends our relationship.”

Y.N’s jaw clenched, and she shot back with cutting precision, “And whose fault is that?”

The question hung in the air like a blade between them, sharp and unforgiving.

Aemond opened his mouth to respond, but Y.N wasn’t finished. The dam of her emotions had burst, and everything she had held back for so long came flooding out.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to be left waiting in that restaurant on our anniversary?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “To be sat alone at the table, dressed up, and have everyone staring at me like I was some pathetic fool? No, you don’t. You don’t have a clue.”

Aemond’s heart sank, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on her as she continued.

“Do you have any idea how excited I was on Valentine’s Day?” Y.N’s voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes. “When you promised me that you’d be home, so I cooked your favourite meal, I did my hair and makeup, and put on a dress I thought you’d like, hoping for just one night where it felt like you cared, to have you make love to me, only for you to come home late and not even acknowledge the effort I’d made. You just brushed past me like I wasn’t even there. No, you don’t know.”

Aemond’s throat tightened as he listened, the weight of her words pressing down on him, suffocating him with guilt and regret.

“Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep?” Y.N’s voice broke as tears spilled down her cheeks. “Wishing that you would pay attention to me instead of your work? No, you don’t. You were always too busy, too distracted. I’ve been alone in this relationship, Aemond. It hurt me every time you broke a promise, every time you chose work over me. That you would rather stick your neck out for complete strangers than pay attention to me.”

She wiped at her tears, her hands shaking. “I love you so much, Aemond. But it hurts that you don’t feel the same.”

“I do feel the same,” Aemond said, his voice hoarse with desperation. “I love you, Y.N. More than anything.”

Y.N shook her head, her expression filled with a mixture of sorrow and disbelief. “If you did, then we wouldn’t be where we are now.”

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to find the right words, but nothing seemed adequate. Y.N looked at him, her eyes filled with a deep longing and a sadness that cut him to the core.

“I want to be a wife, Aemond,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “I long to be a mother. But how can I have that with you when you’re never around? I’ve spent too much time listening out for the door, watching the clock, checking my phone for missed calls or texts that never came. I just can’t do it anymore.”

Y.N turned to walk away, her heart breaking as she did. But Aemond, driven by a sudden surge of panic, grabbed hold of her arm, refusing to let her go. “Y.N, please. I love you. I can’t cope without you. You’re everything to me. Don’t walk away.”

“Let me go, Aemond,” Y.N pleaded, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and heartache.

But Aemond couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her go. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice a desperate whisper as he pulled her closer, pressing her against the wall. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. “I love you, Y.N. I need you-I’ll do whatever it takes”

And then, before she could say anything else, before she could pull away, he kissed her. It was a kiss filled with all the passion, the regret, the longing he had kept bottled up for so long.

It was a kiss that begged for forgiveness, that pleaded for a second chance. His lips moved against hers, insistent and desperate, as if he could somehow pour all his love and apologies into that single moment.

Then Y.N pushed him away, her hands against his chest, but the heat of his kiss and the intensity of their emotions were overwhelming.

The longing she had tried to bury for so long flared up, impossible to ignore.

She hesitated for a moment, but then the dam broke, and she kissed him back with just as much passion, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close.

"I want you, Y.N. Gods, I want you so much-”

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she barely had time to react before Aemond pressed her against the wall, his body pinning hers.

The cool surface behind her contrasted with the heat radiating from him as he leaned in, his hands gripping her waist tightly, as if he was afraid she might slip away.

Y.N squeaked in surprise, her breath hitching as she felt the full force of his desire. The closeness, the way his body pressed against hers, was overwhelming.

 Aemond's face was inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin, and she could see the raw need in his eye—need for her, and only her.

“Aemond,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of emotions she could barely name. She could feel his heart pounding against her chest, matching the rapid beat of her own.

“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke. “-You’re everything to me.”

“W-What are you doing?” exclaimed Y.N

“You’ll see” replied Aemond as his large hand slid into her hair as he pulled her face towards his.

His tongue running over the plump of her lips before sliding into her open mouth.

His hand reached under her dress, his fingers rubbing her pearl over the cotton material of her knickers.

“Already so wet for me” groaned Aemond.

“A-Aemond” breathed Y.N.

“Does it feel good baby?” asked Aemond.

“Oh-Aemond-yes-please” whimpered Y.N as he moved her knickers aside and slid two of his long fingers inside her.

“It’s been so long since I felt you” whispered Aemond as he curled his fingers inside her.

“So long-oh yes” replied Y.N moving her hips in time with Aemond’s fingers.

“Are you going to come already? I can feel you clenching” muttered Aemond, his fingers still moving inside her.

“Yes-Yes. I-I’m going to-” whimpered Y.N

“Only good girls get to come” whispered Aemond as he removed his fingers and then put them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around his fingers, savouring the taste of her.

 “I-I am a good girl. Please-oh please” moaned Y.N as Aemond took her hand and pressed it over the bugle in his jeans.

“That-feels-good” groaned Aemond as Y.N palmed his hard cock, her nails scrapping against the denim fabric of his jeans.

Aemond then watched with a hooded gaze as Y.N removed her hand and then began to unbutton the front of her dress, exposing the lacy bra she wore.

“Such pretty tits” muttered Aemond as Y.N pulled her bra down, revealing her hard rosy nipples.

“Please-” whispered Y.N as she moved her fingers over her nipples, delighting in the way Aemond shuddered as he watched her.

“Y.N-” breathed Aemond as he leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, licking and nipping the delicate flesh.

“Oooh-yes-“ muttered Y.N as Aemond reached up to palm her other exposed breast.

“Such a naughty girl” whispered Aemond, as he licked, sucked and marked her skin.

“AEMOND” squealed Y.N. the fabric of her knickers was soaked.

“Your mine-say it-” ordered Aemond.

“I-I’m yours” gasped Y.N rubbing herself against Aemond as he moved from her breasts to her neck, the prickle of his stubble rubbing her skin as he left a series of small hickeys.

“You ready for me baby?” asked Aemond his voice low.

“Yes-” breathed Y.N.

“Hmmm-you know I like it when you act like my naughty girl” replied Aemond as he quickly moved to undo his belt and unbutton his jeans.

“For you-only for you”

Aemond lowered his jeans and boxers enough to free his hard leaking cock and hooked one of Y.N’s legs around his waist.

His other hand grasping the material of Y.N’s knickers and ripping them from her.

He lifted the ruined material to his nose and inhaled, his singular eye rolling back in his head, before he stuffed them in his back pocket.

“Need you-oh” muttered Y.N writhing against him as he wrapped a hand around his cock and began moving it along her wet folds.

“Tell me you want me-“ growled Aemond.

“I want you” exclaimed Y.N. desperately.

“Tell me you need me” whispered Aemond as he sheathed himself inside her.

“I need you-“

“Tell me you love me” muttered Aemond withdrawing and then thrusting forward.

“I-I love you –“ gasped Y.N.

“That’s it-take it-take all of me” groaned Aemond.

“Oh-Oh-Aemond” moaned Y.N.

“You feel so good”

“W-Wait” exclaimed Y.N as she moved her other leg and placed her heeled foot on the stair railing.

“Baby wants it rough tonight” quipped Aemond, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes-fuck me-please” pleaded Y.N as she braced her hands on his shoulders.

Aemond moaned loudly as he dug his fingers into her hips and began fucking her in earnest, his pace unrelenting.

The slap of skin on skin echoing through the empty stairwell.

“My girl-my perfect girl” groaned Aemond, the pressure building in his abdomen as he pounded inside her with a series of deep penetrating thrusts.

“Yes-don’t stop-right there-“ muttered Y.N.

“Never leaving this sweet pussy again-” moaned Aemond his eye looking down at where they were joined and admiring the way his cock was shining with her slick.

“-yes-yes-” muttered Y.N her hips moving frantically in time with Aemond’s his cock reaching deep inside her.

“I can feel you-I know your almost there” groaned Aemond moving his hand so his thumb could encircle her peal.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N

“Come with me Y.N- come with me” breathed Aemond his pace beginning to falter.

“Yes-” sighed Y.N as her peak exploded, her cunny clenching around Aemond’s cock as he came inside her.

“I love you-I love you so much-marry me Y.N-marry me” babbled Aemond as he kept thrusting gently, his cock still throbbing.

“W-What did you just say?” asked Y.N. her eyes wide.

“I asked you to marry me-“ replied Aemond his face pressed into her neck, his breath tickling her neck.

“D-Do you mean it?” asked Y.N he voice wobbling slightly.

“I do” said Aemond as he moved to look her in the eye.

“That’s my line-” laughed Y.N as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“Wait-does that mean you-you accept?” breathed Aemond.

“Yes-”

“Y-You mean you’ll marry me?” gasped Aemond.

“Yes-yes-yes. I’ll marry you” shrieked Y.N as she kissed him with all the love and passion she could muster.

“I promise to cut back on my hours-no more late nights or missed dinners and special occasions. There’s only us from now on”

“W-What if your work doesn’t like it” muttered Y.N

“They can either accept it or shove the job up their arse. I’m sure there are other firms that would employ me” replied Aemond.

“Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N happily as she pulled him in for another kiss, her hands sliding into his long hair and pulling on it slightly.

“Fuck-don’t get me going again. Not here anyway” muttered Aemond as he felt his cock twitch.

“Come home with me” whispered Y.N wincing as Aemond slowly pulled his cock from her.

“Hmmm, I must warn you that I don’t plan on letting you leave our bed tonight” replied Aemond holding onto Y.N as she wobbled slightly.

“Promises-promises” retorted Y.N cheekily as she straightened her bra, pulled her dress down and smoothed out her hair.

With their fingers intertwined, Aemond and Y.N left the stairwell, stepping back into the noisy, thumping atmosphere of the club.

Aemond looked around for his brother, spotting Aegon across the room, wrapped up in a passionate kiss with a red-haired woman. Aemond sighed, half-amused, half-annoyed, and walked over to him.

Tapping Aegon on the shoulder, Aemond waited as his brother pulled away, looking slightly annoyed at the interruption.

But when Aegon saw Aemond’s expression and slightly dishevelled appearance, and he burst into a laugh. “Well, well, someone’s just had a good time.”

Aemond blushed, glancing over at Y.N, who was smiling softly at him. “We’re going back home,” he said, his voice filled with a newfound confidence. “Together.”

Aegon let out a cheer, clapping Aemond on the back. “Thank the gods for that! I love you, brother, but damn, you’ve been annoying lately.”

Aemond scoffed, shaking his head, but before he could respond, Aegon’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Besides, it’s a good thing you’re heading back with Y.N. I really don’t want to hear you two going at it all night. Might kill my vibe.”

Y.N giggled, shaking her head. “I didn’t know you had a vibe, Aegon.”

Aegon grinned, leaning closer. “You might have experienced it if Aemond hadn’t met you first.”

Aemond growled, his protective instincts flaring up, but Y.N just laughed, wrapping her arm around Aemond’s waist. “I’m glad I met Aemond first,” she said, giving him a soft, loving look.

Aegon chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. So, are you two okay now?”

Aemond nodded, squeezing Y.N’s hand. “Yes, we still have things to talk about, but-” He paused, looking down at Y.N before turning back to Aegon, his voice steady. “-We’re engaged.”

Aegon’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth dropping open slightly before he broke into a wide grin. “Engaged?!” He let out a loud laugh, clapping Aemond on the back again, harder this time. “Well, I’ll be damned! Congratulations, you two!”

He pulled Y.N into a hug, then did the same with Aemond, his joy evident. “See? I told you coming out with me tonight would be worth it.”

Aemond couldn’t help but smile, nodding in agreement. “I guess you’re right-well were off, I’ll text you in the morning”

“Please don’t-leave it til midday at least. Your not the only one getting his end away tonight” said Aegon smirking.

“Honestly Aegon-” chided Y.N.

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow” said Aemond as Aegon waved his hand and returned his attention to the red head woman, before shouting "I BETTER BE THE BEST MAN"

As they laughed and made their way out of the club, Aemond’s hand remained firmly in Y.N’s, his heart lighter than it had been in months.

For the first time in a long time, he felt a true sense of hope, knowing that they had a future together, one he was determined to make the most of.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

so glad jason is getting out in his place for the reverse, no one gets to treat baby poorly

Dick shouldered your bedroom door open and exhaled slowly. You hated having other people in your room. "Just lay her on the bed," he said, putting your bag down and putting the lunch box of snacks on the desk. "She'll be okay."

"She's really still," Jason said frowning as he laid you down. Taking half a second to unfold your arms from across your chest- just to make you look less dead.

"Happens," Dick said, pulling a clean blanket from the chest at the foot of your bed and throwing it over you quickly. You had half a dozen extra blankets. Throw pillows. Plushes. At some point in the intervening years, you'd gone from a full-sized bed to a queen just to accommodate it all. "She gets tired out after all that." He paused for a second and checked the temperature in the room before jerking his head towards the door.

It was better to leave you alone and let you rest. And once they ere outside, he shut the door and lead Jason down the hall. Going to find Alfred and let him know that you're safely in your room.

"What did she do to her hands?" Jason asked?

Dick shrugged, "Punching the shit out of the trees, tearing out brambles... The clearing is bigger than it used to be. I know she's hurled rocks around before. But. I only know that because I check up on it every so often."

"But-"

"Otherwise," Dick sighed. "It's a lot of crying, blood-curdling muffled screaming, and emotional turmoil that would make Bruce crack... It all has to go somewhere."

"Just out in the woods recreating a horror movie?"

"Nowhere else to do it," he said practically. "It could potentially fuck up the whole manor if she just flipped shit in her room. She can't just run screaming down a street. And unless she wants to live isolated in the middle of nowhere- which might be okay for a while- she'd probably just go crazy and either join a cult or start a cult."

"She's terrified of people-"

"Terrified of hurting people," Dick corrected, "and of being hurt. there's a difference. It's like befriending a feral cat. You get pretty far with snacks- it takes a while to get her to warm up to you. Alfred won her over with Homemade Cinnamon rolls."

"What'd you do?" Jason snorted.

"Snuck her into the zoo early one day," he said smiling at the memory. After a disastrous family trip that had you whimpering in pain, watching you zip down the walkways beaming... It was worth bribing a few people.

"What'd everyone else-"

"Little wing, look," Dick sigh. "I get it. She's a cutie. She's got an air of mystery about her but-"

"I don't-"

"It's just a little crush. If you just relax a little when you talk to her she'll stick around. She doesn't really hang around any of us-"

"I don't like her like that," Jason murmured," cheeks heating. "She's just weird."

"She's weird and you're a reheated corpse," Dick snorted at his retreating back. He'd HAVE to tell Stephanie. She liked knowing when her hunches were right.

[koimethehorizon]

Amazing Digital Circus Theory: Gangle is an NPC

Sooo, I wasn’t expecting to talk about this show. I was perfectly content to just enjoy Digital Circus as is.

It’s a show that invites theories as to what exactly’s going on with the setting and characters, but I didn’t have much room to think too hard about it. Who’s Abel? Is Pomni really a human? Why is this VR game emulating an N64 game at the start? I like the show plenty, but it just wasn’t as interesting to go hard on any of those questions at the time.

But with this recent episode… a single, perhaps throwaway line got the brain nagging. And it’s kind of a bizarre one to waste hours analyzing.

Okay, so yeah, it’s a joke on submissive and breedable. (Don’t give them ideas) But try taking it at face value.

What does he mean by this? Sure, Jax is an asshole, and being a bullied kid is Gangle’s whole archetype… but what if it means a little more than that?

Gangle’s trapped for all eternity this asshole and she’s just letting him boss her around. Zooble can choose not to participate, so no one has to. Why does Gangle listen to Jax at all?

Let's entertain a thought: Is Gangle an NPC?

With Episode 2 bringing so much attention to the autonomy of NPCs, it seemed natural to start pointing fingers at characters being this or that. But this isn't just a random crackshot, I feel that there is a story to tell here.

Look back at Pomni’s “orientation” with the other humans. Ragatha, Zooble, and Jax ease her by saying that they’ve been trapped in this world for years and then bring attention to Kinger being the oldest.

But Gangle… she’s isolated from the peanut gallery, busy moping about the broken comedy mask instead.

Every character has been given some hints as to how they’ve been coping with the situation. Jax no longer empathizes with anything, Ragatha once had trouble adjusting but now tries to stay happy, Zooble picks and chooses her involvement, Kinger is the eldest and just exists for the hell of it, and Pomni is new to everything.

With Gangle, it’s a blank. No opinion, no hints of her human side, how long she’s been here, no thoughts on the games, nothing. She’s just Jax’s punching bag.

Even Kinger gets a potshot on Gangle in a rock-paper-scissors game…. and he likely forgot that she doesn’t have hands!

And that brings me to another detail. Doesn't Gangle look different from the others?

Unlike everyone else, Gangle's just a mask and a ribbon. No hands or legs, or just any limbs in general. She stands out as looking a bit simpler than the others.

Gangle's most interesting design trait is that she's based on comedy and tragedy masks. The ones used old Greek theater to dictate the emotions of their characters.

The first episode seems to imply that with a broken comedy mask, Gangle literally can’t stay happy. Hence why we see her sad most of the time. That's a strange limitation if Gangle's human mind is supposed to be completely intact, especially with how expressive the other characters can be.

It's not delved into too much but does Gangle actually rely on these masks to "feel" emotions?

The obvious hole is that Caine would’ve just killed her a while ago if she was an NPC, but he's not exactly omniscient.

He even admits that he has to kill them off because it’s possible for him to lose track.

Now normally I could just stop here, but I’m all about the grand statements. You know, the retroactive readings of an episode once you get a theory going. Why does Gangle being an NPC matter at all? How does Ep 2 change?

While deep diving, I realized that the thematic core of Episode 2 is Pomni and Jax’s approaches to surviving the Digital Circus.

In Pomni’s A plot, we see her connecting with Gummigoo, the NPC that Caine pitted their group against. After discovering him lamenting his new reality, she finds a strange comfort in being existentially lost together. Because in the end the NPCs and the humans are just as displaced and frightened in this meaningless world.

In Jax’s B plot, he forces Gangle to follow some insane orders. Sabotage the game to let the big chocolate turd monster destroy the Candy Kingdom. To Jax, he is the main character. Helping or displeasing this giant population of fake people doesn’t have any consequence for him, so why humor anyone but yourself?

A bit of a stretch, but what if Jax already knows Gangle is an NPC and is keeping it quiet as long as Gangle follows orders, hence the “submissive” comment? He’d be a way more unpleasant character with this reading, but it doesn’t seem off the cards with how he treats everyone anyway.

This dichotomy already plays out well within the episode, but when reframing it as Pomni and Gummigoo vs Jax and Gangle, the parallel is a lot more interesting.

Make an NPC an equal, they die. But keep an NPC under wraps as long as they continue to obey you… they live.

The episode ends with a grim conundrum that NPCs can’t be together with the humans, not because of their differences but because they're just... not allowed to be. But what if one already in the group, proving that they’re just as capable as the humans to play the games and grieve loved ones together?

PS. Despite knowing everyone else's name, I actually forgot Gangle's until I started finding evidence for this intrusive thought. Sorry Gangle.

PSS. I couldn't fit this anywhere, but Gangle's door frame doesn't work as evidence against the NPC theory, because even the mannequins have their own rooms in that hallway.

[mothtral]

sunday was chained up in the rooms he secretly kept you locked away in. the family knew of the area, of course they did, it’s where they kept the traitors and the highest ranking criminals. they thought sunday was visiting various convicts to gather more information… they weren’t aware someone innocent was hidden away like a prized jewel.

mind you, many of the older members of the family wouldn’t have mattered if you were innocent, but luckily for you, many have been trying to find you for a long time. enough there’s been missing posters of you yellowing on penacony’s streets. a beloved friend of sunday and robin, including other younger elite members of the family. it was too public, them bringing sunday to that room.

so out you went and sunday guided inside. sunday said nothing. he didn’t look at you. maybe, he knew the dream you had, one where you were running through an open field under the sun, your arms spread apart like a bird about to take flight; free.

robin was horrified and bundled you away, she ignored the flinch you gave her when she got too close, too fast. most wouldn’t think you were missing for months, perhaps even years. dressed to the nines in silk clothes and not a single scratch or bruise on your body. the chains sunday used on you were cushioned; he wanted you by his side, not a walking punching bag.

time flew past you at a nauseating speed. you never were one for rollercoasters, or the pin ball transportations in penacony. one thing is for certain, when everyone’s backs are turned, you will leave and never step foot in penacony again.

first, you must do something. sunday took your life from you. but… you never wanted to see him in your place in that little cell.

“come to gloat?” sunday said. he sounded so bitter, tired. it was almost enough for you to take a step closer, to get within range of his telepathy.

sunday… he didn’t treat you badly, per se. you clung to your childhood much like he did; you, sunday, and robin. all brought to the family at young ages, the only ones at that time that were considered outsiders back then. you gravitated to each other, your dream much like theirs as a child.

your dream… you don’t dream anymore. you haven’t for a long time.

“no,” you whispered. you hadn’t spoken a word to anyone since leaving this cell. you hadn’t spoken a word since sunday brought you to this cell. it hurt. “i wanted to say farewell.”

you have never seen sunday like that before. after the words left your mouth, his head snapped up from where he was fixated at the ground, his neck audibly cracking. before, you thought sunday’s eyes looked like the evening sky, soft and sweet, the perfect sunset. now, they looked like threshold to mania, pupils shrunken and nearly glowing; something else was watching you from his gaze.

“you—cannot—leave me,” sunday rasped out, teeth bared and spit clinging to his lips. he strained against the chains holding him back that for a moment, he looked like a beast held restrained by flimsy material it could easily break free from. distantly, you noticed, they no longer held the cushions they did for you. now, they were a sickly purple; you did not want to know why it looked like that.

“i can. i will,” you replied. you thought this should’ve been more emotional; you did not have it in you to be passionate. exhaustion clung to your limbs, but somehow you kept striving forward. maybe it was the inherent stubbornness sunday used to bemoan.

you turned around; you saw enough. it was time to go, your goal accomplished.

“what about our dream?” sunday hissed. behind you, you heard something creak, and knew you couldn’t stick around for much longer.

“it has not been our dream for a long time, sunday. i hope just that one day you realize it wasn’t your dream, as well.” you wondered if you should clarify, let sunday keep this little flicker of a flame, of hope. and you decided you would. “i know i said this was a farewell. we both know you won’t let it remain that. i await the day you find me again. maybe we can find a new dream together.”

[igotanidea]

Tease: Jason Todd x fem!reader

graphic credit goes to @stariver00 - <3

A/N: I can't even find the words to describe how relieved I am that I finally finished this one! :D

Summary: taking care of Jason's wounds and being a tease sounds so innocent. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!! dumbifications, oral (fem receiving), my poor medical knowledge, mentions of wounds, teasing and bickering, a bit of rough play if you squint.

***

The view in front of her eyes was not she was expecting to see, however she should have seen that coming. After all it wasn’t the first time her boyfriend climbed up her window in the middle of the night, bloodied and wounded with a broken dog face expression, searching for a safe place where he could get back to shape. 

 “Patching.” he muttered sitting cross legged on the floor, with medical supplies splattered all over, his helmet and body armor discarded a few steps beyond. 

She knew the drill, they did this dance hundreds of times now. With a deep sigh Y/N threw her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes and moved to sit on the floor next to him reaching for the gauze he had in his hands and retrieving it swiftly.

“What kind of wound? Stab? Bullet? Punch? Hit?” she asked, immediately getting into this specific, factual tone, keeping her emotions at bay, focusing on the task of helping him out.

“Bullet” he muttered mimicking her pitch.

“Exit or…?”

“Entry.”

“But no exit?” her voice faltered only slightly. Anyone else wouldn’t even notice that subtle change, but Jason knew her for too long to let it slip. He was fully aware she was terrified of what was expected of her to do.

“It stayed in.” he muttered

“You really couldn’t let me have one good night, could you? “she sighed deeply reaching for the tweezers, disinfecting them, desperately trying to control her shaky hands and putting them inside his wound. “I’m not a freaking doctor you know!”

“Just get it out already!” he hissed in pain.

 “Stop squirming! It’s not helping!”

Jason clenched his jaw, wincing at every movement of the tweezers in his body but followed her orders, his fingers digging into his palms to prevent himself for hurting her in crazy fight or flight instinct.

“I got it….” She whispers finally pulling the bullet out and throwing it away, her heart beating frantically from the emotions yet her face blank and calm. It was crazy how they were both terrified and yet were dead set not to show it to the other to not amplify any of those negative feelings.

“Told you” he smirked

“Told me what exactly Todd? That you’re a selfish, reckless, stupid bastard who’s  gonna give me heart attack?. I’m not professional. I could have hurt you and yet I always take care of you…..”

“Told you a silly bullet wound won’t kill me.” Jason grinned and moved to lay on the couch. “Now, get those stiches and put them to use Y/N.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome….” She rolled her eyes, reaching for the needle and swiftly mending the damage done to his shoulder. “You’re lucky it didn’t shatter any bones, cause that would be way beyond my pay grade.”

“Yeah, whatever….” He muttered waiting patiently for her to be done and finish helping him by putting on a dressing, her soft, nimble fingers dancing on his skin, sending shivers down his spine. “Thanks doc.” He chuckled to diffuse the tension. It was weird that he got so many different sensations from her touch now. She did this so many times before and only now…. she shook his head not wanting to pursue that thought.

“Might as well use that title. Not of education by definitely from experience.” She hissed standing up, moving to kitchen and pouring herself a glass of wine “by the way, did you know that experiments on living organism are forbidden?”

‘You meant me?” he raised an eyebrow watching her sip her drink.

“Obviously.”

“And yet you always stich me up. Every. time.” Jason raised from the couch, moving to stand in front of her.

„What if one day I refuse?” she teased, swirling the wine and looking straight into his eyes, almost daring him to play back.

„I’ll take care of my wounds and you take care of your liver” Jason pulled the glass from her hand putting it up away from her reach, making her pout and stuck the tongue at him.

“You gotta die from something. I’d rather go down doing something fun not fighting on the streets of Gotham.”

“Not on my watch. You can drop patching me up, but you’re not drinking. You’re gonna sit with me and watch some Netflix instead.”

“Shall I remind you it’s still my apartment?”

“Ekhem…. Our apartment.” He corrected.

“Mhm… sure… I work and pay the bills and you bleed on the floor from time to time. You’re right, you marked this place quite literally.”

„No one here is getting drunk.” He said with a stern tone.

“I’m sorry? Do I look drunk?” she scoffs “that’s offending.”

“After a bottle of wine?”

“Who said anything about a bottle?” she brushed him off, but his gaze travelled to the open, almost empty bottle standing on the kitchen counter. “Yesterday’s?” she made an innocent face at him.

“That’s your third glass, Y/N.” there was no way to hide the evidence of crime now. Damn his vigilante instincts and  observational skills. Of course she could have kept the play going, but it was no point now.

“Yeah, maybe I have a reason to. And you’re the last person on earth who can preach me on recklessness.” she mutters, snatching the glass from his hand, putting it to the sink and plumping on the couch putting on some TV. 

“Bad day, huh?”

“More less so….” she switch through the channels finding nothing worth keeping an eye on, and finally setting on reruns of Friends, hoping this would cheer her up even if only a little.

 “Care to share?” Jason sat beside her, pulling her into his embrace, resting his head on hers. 

“I don’t think I want to talk now….” Y/N snuggled into his arms, enjoying the warmth coming from his body. “Hi…..” she murmured softly, a  bit calmer now. He was all right, he was safe and next to her, not bleeding, not dying, not hurting. 

“Hi yourself...”Jason smiled kissing her forehead and tightening the grip on her.

“You gave me a scare, you know.”

“Sorry baby…… But you’re better now, right?” his hand moved from her waist to her back, caressing softly in a calming manner.

‘yeah… I’m better….” She sighed, feeling the stress coming off her in waves. “you feel like home”

“that’s because I am your home, princess.”

“Yeah…. Yeah… you are….”

“And you’re mine….” He added, brushing her hair and cheek softly putting finger under her chin and making her look into his eyes. ”You understand that, don’t you? That you are mine and my everything.”

“I love you….” She whispered connecting their foreheads in an intimate gesture, hoping he’ll understand all those unspoken words dying in her throat and impossible to sound.

“I love you more.” He brushed his lips over hers briefly, only to ignite her nerves and make her break.

“I could argue on that.” Y/N chuckles softly in return.

“Oh really?” his eyebrows travelled up as he pulled back looking into her eyes with a slight smirk “Try me.”

“I. am. Infinitely falling for you.”  Her words were like a balm on his heart and soul making him feel like he finally found that one person he belonged to. Whatever she said to him, whenever and wherever, it never failed to set him on fire, make his nerves and his whole body burn with the passion he never knew before.

“Y/N……baby…..”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’ve won this competition……” Jason’s leaned forward, leaving inches of space between them.

“I’m gonna take my prize now.” she murmured capturing his lips in hers and immediately, out of instincts wrapping arms around his neck. She wanted, needed to feel him, just to make sure it was all real and he was really with her, not just a friction of her imagination.

Jason was with her…… Safe, loved, all for her, matching every movement of her lips with passion, pulling her on his lap, caressing her hair, touching her back and waist, doing it all at once.

"Take everything you want, love. I'm all yours."

“Mine……” a few tears fell down her cheeks when she snuggled even closer to his touch, never getting enough of it. Of him, of his love, of his affection and care. Even though those were the sign of happiness, not pain of hurt, he noticed those little droplets in an instant.

"Hey, no crying on my shoulder." He chuckled wiping them away. “I got you…. You’re safe with me….”

“I can't lose you.....” she whispered, her right hand travelling to his shoulder, tracing over the wound she patched up a few moments later. “Every time you go out there ….” Her voice broke.

„Hey…. Hey….baby look at me….” Jason grabbed her chin and forced her eyes up on him “you’re not losing me. I’m right here…..” he guided her hand to his heart, letting her feel his heartbeat “feel that?” she nodded “it beats only for you. You won’t lose me…I promise you.” He kissed her temple nuzzling nose in her hair.

“I love you Jay....”

"I love you too, honey." He replied, wrapping his arms around Y/N  tightly, like he was afraid she might disappear, keeping her in the safe, strong embrace, rocking back and forth slightly.

 “Does it hurt?” she asked her soft, quiet voice breaking through the silence of the apartment.

“What?” Jason asked, slightly confused by her question.

“The wound.”

"Oh... yeah, it stings a little." He replied, glancing at his bandaged shoulder.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

His eyes grew wide, tiniest blush creeping on his face. Even if it was barely visible in the dark room she knew him well enough to recognise when he got flustered.,

"Baby…..that's the best offer I've gotten all week." He grinned.

“That's not a yes though.”

“You’re taking the conscious consent to a completely new level, princess. Do you see me objecting?”

“Jason Todd…..” she warned with the slightest chuckle

“I could never say no to you, my pretty girl.” he pulled her closer “yes.”

That one little word was all she needed connecting their lips again, relinquishing in the taste of his lips, taste of him. When her mouth were busy showing her love moving all over his face, brushing his cheek, jaw and neck, her hands, simultaneously moved down to his chest, her nimble fingers tracing his skin, moving over each of his scars, reminder of his past. Of the part of his life where she wasn’t with him.

She did it so many times already, focusing on the stab wound on his thigh, tiniest dents in the rib area, multiple cuts on his chest, slashes on his arms, bullet wounds, burn wounds, all kinds of those.

So many intimate times and yet, every single one of them was so different from the other.

"You sure you wanna do this right now...? I'm all for it but I don't want you to get my blood all over you." He chuckled

„It's just a kiss Jason....” she teased, moving to kiss over the sensitive, freshly patched shoulder with her soft, warm lips, causing Goosebumps all over him and smiling at the effect of him not stopping her ministrations

“Y/N…..” he groaned, his head falling back slightly. “God…..” his grip on her tightened and he pulled her closer, his mind (and not only mind) running wild and completely out of his control.

  „Shhhh...”  she mumbled against his skin, keeping on her ministrations, smiling even more upon feeling his hand tangling in her hear pressing her closer to the wounded shoulder. “Let me take care of you….” Her hot breath brushed over his neck when she started nibbling there getting a few more groans of pleasure.

“Do you feel better, Jaybaby?”

“Uh…uh-huh….”  He gasped slightly still trying to keep his composure “don’t want you to stop…..”

“I’m not, my love…..” she nibbled on his neck, biting gently. “Mmmh…. You taste delicious…”

“Y/N…..” his hands found a way under her shirt, tugging at the material. “you’re a devil…..”

“No, Jace….”

“But Y/N....” he whined desperately “I want you… I want to kiss you, touch you, let me love you…..”

“You’re hurt, Jason….”

“So what? I still want to have you….”

“You can kiss me, but the clothes stays on.”

“You’re such a tease, turning me all hot and then denying!” he pouted “how unfair is that?!” he shivered at her words, but even though not giving up just yet.

“Yeah, I can feel how excited you got…” she smirks, shifting to sit on his lap, purposefully brushing over his hard on.

“Come on!” he cried out, burning at the sensation. Even if it was through material he could tell himself the rest, imagination and memories doing the job. “It’s torture! Pleeeeasseeee….”

“Hmmm.. on second thought….” She pulled back stopping the kissing.

“Y/N!”

“What?”

“You promised you won’t stop!” he grabbed her hip harder, making her squeal in surprise

“I did not!” she exclaimed “I hit pause.”

“Resume it now….” He warned, his voice hoarse, his body desperate for her. “Or else….”

“Or else what, honey? What will you possibly do?” he whispered in his ear, tangling fingers in his hair, tugging and scratching gently, her eyes full of desire and love and playfulness combined. “From what I see and it’s a nice view from the top….” Y/N smirked  “you’re at my mercy. How does that feel?”

“Terrible.” He pouted “I’m injured and need to be taken care of and my girlfriend is all cruel and heartless…..”

“Oh…. Am I really?” she pushed him down on the bed, forcing him to lay on his back. “Is it really so terrible? How’s the view from down there?”

“covered….”

“Covered view?” she chuckled.

“Come on!!!”  he cried out, his impatient hands moving to her hips.

“Behave, Jason…..” she straddled his hips, laying on top of him, pinning his hands to the mattress, looking straight into his eyes, before moving to kiss down his chest.

“You’re playing with fire, princess….”

“Yeah, Kori has been giving me some … lessons. And let me tell you, that girl…. She’s really good. I mean she bedded Dick and all those tricks she showed me…..” she smirked, letting go of his hands and tracing over his scars, but unlike before this time it was far from sweet, gentle and innocent. This time, her single purpose was to spur him on, tease him, make him burn at her touch and at the single feeling  of her body on his.

“I hate you…..” he groaned

“We both know….” She brushed over his crotch “It’s not true.”

“Enough!” he yelled and before she could do as much as let out a single cry he pinned her to the mattress, kissing her with urgency and desire, not stopping to take a break, a breath, nothing. Now he was claiming her, her body, her soul, her mind. She wanted teasing, she should have known it comes with the price and Jason was not going to give up something that was rightfully his.

“Jason!” she moaned, but he was not going to stop for the world, tearing her shirt open, sending the buttons flying all over the room, sucking her skin up, biting, licking and kissing all over her stomach, finally, finally being able to teach her a lesson.

“You brought this on yourself….” He hissed, his mind too consumed by lust to even hear her crying out his name. “you brought this on yourself, princess”.

He was so fucking hungry, starved, deprived of her body, her skin, the taste of her. And his little, pathetic, helpless girlfriend really thought she could keep him on leash.

“poor little stupid girl….” he muttered, scratching her waist and moving hands up, cupping her clothed chest, feeling her body arch and squirm underneath him “I’m not your pet, baby….” He pulled the material of the bra away, revealing her right  breast and smirking vindictively at the view of her pebbled nipple. “You planned this, didn’t you?” he muttered, brushing thumb over the sensitive part eliciting a moan and desperate cry of pleasure

“please…..” she begged

“not so nice when you’re the one pleading, is it?” he chuckled cruelly, taking it in his mouth and sucking for a second.

“Jay…..!” she grabbed his head, wanting more, more, more……

“Oh no, princess….” He pulled back, her half exposed, reddened chest abused and neglected “It’s not gonna be that easy…” his eyes glistened in the dark room. In that moment he looked less like a Jason Todd and way more like a Red Hood. Like a predator looking at the helpless prey, baring his teeth and sharpening his claws, getting ready to pounce mercilessly, getting his payback and whatever else he wanted.

“shit….!” She squealedwondering how was it possible that she went from patching him up and getting all scared of hurting him, through absolutely innocent teasing to ending up pinned to the bed in the form of desperate mess, strangely turned on by his fury.

“Yeah, princess…shit, indeed….” Jason repeated, scratching the skin just above the hem of her jeans, one fingers diving down, grabbing the elastic of her panties pulling it up just to let it go and make it snap her skin with a sting.

“Ah..!”  she gasped

“Such a naughty, little stupid ungrateful brat….” He climbed on top of her, kissing up her stomach, her chest, her neck, jaw, cheek in a crazy pace, not allowing her to enjoy it, stopping at her lips. “I’ll make you beg for me. How about that? How do you like switching places…..” his mouth hung a few inches above hers, his thumb pressing at her bottom lip, forcing her to open those pretty mouth he was imagining somewhere else doing something different. “How about that, princess?” he asked again, his breath enveloping her face, clouding her senses, causing her to close her eyes. “Answer me, baby or might have to punish you….”

“Jason….” She moaned, not sure if she was enjoying this side of him or not. It was the first time in their relationship when he pushed him so far to actually make him this… vicious… this dominant.

“Answer me, princess…..” he muttered, grabbing both her hands and pinning them above her head “How do you like that?” he bit her neck. Once, twice, three times, each time harder than before.

“I…..ah… shit… Jace….!” At this point she knew – she was definitely enjoying him like this.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?”

“You’re so mean to me….” she moaned at another bite, this time on her shoulder.

“And yet….” One of his hands left her wrist, travelling down her body, tracing over each of her curved and digging inside her pants, moving the material of the panties away “you’re so wet…..” he whispered into her ear “what were you thinking, beautiful? What sort of crazy fantasies are there in your head, little one? Do you wish me to touch you….?” his finger brushed over hersensitive, swollen clit. “you want me touch you like that?”

“Yes,….shit… yes, yes…..” poor Y/N thought she was a begging mess before but Jason was clearly just beginning to have his fun with her. “please…..” she struggled against his grip.

“funny how the tables turned, isn’t it?” he muttered, nuzzling nose into her neck.

“Todd…..” she tried her best to make her voice stern and serious, but it came as desperate and whiny.

“Yeah, baby….? Is there something you want?” he asked calmly, his tone a contract to the way he was rubbing her clit faster and more intensely, enjoying the sounds coming from her mouth, becoming less human by a second turning into a desperate wail of tortured animal.

“please, please… please….!” Her hips buckled off the bed, her body begging for more.

“Nah…. I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, love.” He retrieved his hand from her pants.

“Jason….!” She looked into his eyes, her gaze broken, hair a mess, lips chapped, cheeks reddened.

“God, your such a mess…..” Jason smirked, but the way she was looking at him with so much love, trust and vulnerability got him crumbling a bit. “Beg for me…..”

“I need you….” She whimpered “I need you, only you, just you. Please……?”

“Y/N…… my love……. You were a brat……. Admit it now…..” her voice, her eyes, her whispering, her begging…. He was slipping back into her, getting lost in her. He enjoyed having her under his control, but it was never his intention to push her further than she could take. Y/N had a little less experience than him and Jason was just trying to show her different way of things.  To educate her, if you may.

But.

No matter how much he tried to dominate her, to punish and take what he wanted he just…. couldn’t.

He couldn’t be forceful on Y/N. His love, his one and only, his sweet, pretty girl. He wanted to protect her, love her, cherish her. Give her all the sweet loving she was missing through her entire life. Never hurt her. Never.

Unless she asked him too.

Spicing things up was good sometimes, but the tears in her eyes told him clearly enough she was on the verge. And Jason was not going to make her break and burst out crying during sex. Not with him. Not on his watch.

Never.

“Y/N…… baby…..” he let go of both of her wrists, reddened and swollen from the tight grip. “I love you….. I love you…..”

“I love you too, Jace,…. Please… please…..”

“Shhhh…. “ he caressed her head kissing her softly, reassuringly “I got you baby…. I got you… I’ll take care of you… Just promise….” He bit on her bottom lip “promise you won’t tease me again…..”

“Promise….” She whimpered, wrapping arms around his back, scratching his shoulder blades, dragging her nails down his body.

“I’m gonna pretend I believe you……” Jason whispered, too lost in his craving to say anything else and to control himself anymore.

It only took him a second to unclasp her bra, exposing her breast fully, licking, sucking, grazing his teeth over it, letting himself enjoy her hands in his hair, tugging, pulling, scratching, but not stopping there. His mouth moved lower, swiftly and capably sliding her jeans down, removing her soaked panties, spreading her legs and licking his lips at the view.

“Y/N……” his tongue moved to the place where she needed him ‘mmhmh… god….my favourite meal of the day…….”

“No…..” she whispered, pulling him back up by his healthy shoulder.

“what do you mean no?” he kept on lapping and sucking, swirling his tongue “your words don’t match your body movements….”

“I need you….”

“You have me baby…..” he licked all the way from her slit to clit making her moan and squirm again, more desperately than ever before “can’t stop me now…..”

“I want you….ah… ah…” her voice became desperate when those long, thick fingers complemented tongue movements, pumping in and out, doing it with ease with the amount of juices she already produces for him. “I want you… in….in…fuck…!”

“Inside?” he smirked, picking up the pace, knowing exactly what she was begging for.  She nodded her body tensing and sweating like crazy. Yes, she wanted him inside but with the way he was making her feel at the moment, bringing her closer and closer to release, she was slowly starting to not give a fuck how he would make her come. The only thing she cared about was to come at all, fingers, tongue, dick, whatever. And she was silently praying he wouldn’t fall back into that sadistic attitude and keep on edging her endlessly.

“Jace…. “ she spread her legs wider, opening herself to him fully, her body acting on its own.

He looked up from between her legs, his gaze hazy, desperate, filled with so much lust, passion and craving it made her shudder. In this state he was definitely notgoing to edge her and they both knew it. Their eyes met only for a second before he got back to eating her up in that way only he knew how, fast, hard, hitting all the right places in the perfect pace.

“Yes….!” She cried out, when her climax started to build, his fingers digging into her hips causing pain and pleasure and confirming her belief she would sport bruises next day. “Yes… yes…!” she moaned more and more, grabbing his hands and putting them on her breasts again, allowing him to touch,  squeeze, scratch and twist the flesh to his liking. “Yes….Jason…!”

He groaned and his voice reverberated through her whole body, making her scream his name , her body arching, hips moving off her bed as she was practically fucking herself on his face. Greedy, selfish little girl, craving the pleasure, the release, being so close, so fucking close she could almost touch it.

“Yes…. Yes… yes….!” Jason heard her sounds in the very core of his soul and body, picking up the pace more and more and more and more, not stopping. He could suffocate like this, die like this if it meant tasting her for the last time in his life. He grabbed her breast harder, digging his tongue deeper. It was not about her anymore, it was about satiating his hunger, his craving, his desire.

And then….

It felt like someone turned off the world that stopped existing.

It was only him.

And her.

Nothing more.

Her brain shut down when she came as intensely as never before, squirting hard, body tensing, releasing, bursting into sweat, shivering and shaking in no more than ten seconds. Oh, he prepped her so good and apparently a bit of roughness only added to the pleasure and the sensation.

“Jason…..” she breathed out heavily, her eyes closed as she tried to reach for his face blindly.

“I’m here, baby….” His voice came somewhere from above her, but before she could open her eyes and look at him, Jason pressed his lips to her, helping her to calm down and come back to reality, but also allowing her to taste herself. “I got you…. I got you, princess. It’s okay.. You’re safe. You’re mine, I’m here.”

“Mhmhm…..”was all she could reply, too lost in the sensation.

“How you feel?” he asked softly, pulling her to him, holding and caressing her back. He was going to clean her up in a second but for now she needed cuddles. She needed his warm embrace. And he was going to shower her with the aftercare. “I wasn’t too rough right?”

“At first.. maybe a little…..” she sighed, finally opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. His chin was glistening. “but it was worth it….” She smiled, wiping her own juices from his face “apparently….” They both chuckled.

“Do you remember what you promised me, though?” Jason smirked pulling her closer and ruffling her hair affectionately.

“are you serious?” she snickered “I’ve just barely recollected my last name! Of course I don’t remember what I said while being desperate for you!”

“Desperate, huh?” he raised an eyebrow. “Can you repeat that so I can record for my spank bank? Y/N Y/L/N was desperate for me….”

“Shut up!” she blushed punching his healthy arm.

“Make me, princess.” Jason grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes. “You promised not to tease me, let me refresh your memory.”

“Did I really?” she frowned

“Yeah, really…..”

“What if I crossed my fingers?” she sat on the bed, wriggling out of his embrace, looking down at him with a smirk, her naked body so close to his. “What if I lied?”

“then we need another lesson to eradicate that terrible habit of yours….” he grabbed her waist and pulled her on top of him “I’m not in a hurry and that means you’re not going anywhere….” He bit her lip, his eyes glistening with the same greedy glow as before.    

Round two.

[senditcolton]

...but you're going to

You're not saying your in love with me... I'm not saying, "do it anyway"...

summary: when a freshly heartbroken Cassandra Moore proposes going on a tropical vacation to an equally disappointed Leon Draisaitl, all she expects out of the trip is healing and some quality time with her best friend. but she quickly learns that the universe love to throw punches when you least expect them. song inspo: BIRDS OF A FEATHER by Billie Eilish and Cool by Dua Lipa word count: 10.7k warnings: fighting and some sexual innuendo written for @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange to @thewintersoldierdisaster with love ⛱️💛

When the oak door swings open, bringing Cassandra Moore face-to-face with star hockey player Leon Draisaitl, she can’t stop the smile that appears on her face. Even though her upturned lips are twinged with sadness – a sadness that is mirrored on Leon’s face.

“I brought consolation ice cream,” she says, holding up her canvas tote bag.

Leon doesn’t say anything, just leaves the door open for Cassandra to follow him into his house like she’s done a hundred times before.

“Why do our breakdowns always happen at the same time?” he questions.

“Maybe it’s the universe telling us that we’re meant for each other,” Cassandra jokes, waltzing into Leon’s kitchen and hopping up onto one of the bar stools lined against the counter. Her hands fish out the pint of ice cream while Leon reaches into one of the kitchen drawers before extending a spoon to her.

“I am sorry about the finals,” she says, her voice genuine. “Win or lose, we’re all really proud of you here in Edmonton.”

“Thanks Cassie. I would say sorry about your break-up but… I mean, I did tell you. He was an asshole.”

Cassandra just rolls her eyes, taking a heaping scoop of ice cream from the carton, shoveling it into her mouth before replying.

“You’ve said that about every guy I’ve dated,” she retorts. “Not sure if you’re the most impartial person here.”

“And yet, here you are in my kitchen, wallowing in pity and desserts… again,” Leon teases her back. “I’d say my judgement is pretty spot on.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassie waves him off, taking another bite before shrugging. “He was kind of a dick though.”

The soft snorting chuckle falls from Leon’s lips, the sound making a smile appear on Cassandra’s face. Her best friend looks up, his eyebrows raised in an inquisitive look as he appraises her – blonde hair pulled up in a bun and her classic loungewear of a tank and sweatpants hanging on her frame.

“What caused it this time?” he asks, the words gentle – a tone that Cassie appreciates. This was one of the many reasons why she liked being friends with Leon; he expertly toed the line between distracting her and letting her talk out her emotions. She just sighs, taking another spoonful of ice cream before responding.

“Didn’t feel like I was being appreciated. Thought I gave a lot of time and effort but never really got much in return.”

“You deserve better.”

“Don’t I know it,” Cassandra laughs, her eyes darting back up towards her best friend. “I could say the same about you.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know you can’t lie to me.”

Leon’s eyes lift to connect with hers and Cassandra can feel a small pang in her chest at the sight of the pain that she saw lingering deep in his irises. She just keeps him underneath her gentle gaze before he sighs, his own spoon diving into the ice cream carton.

“I really thought it was our year,” he mumbles, his own eyes downcast.

Cassie doesn’t reply – she wouldn’t really know what to say anyway. She just allows the silence to linger over them for a moment, letting the only noise being the hum of Leon’s air conditioning. She takes in the two of them, leaning against the cool marble island and drowning their sorrows with sugar.

“We’ve got to be the saddest sacks in all of Alberta, right now,” Cassie says, finally breaking the silence with a sarcastic laugh. Leon returns her words with a grin and a raising of his spoon.

“Cheers to us,” he replies, that dry humor that she had come to love ringing out around the kitchen. She laughs, raising her own spoon in a salute before they both take another bite.

The comfortable silence falls, enveloping them both. Cassandra twirls her spoon between her fingers, her mind wandering, eyes dancing over the cabinets before landing on Leon again. She takes in his appearance; his disheveled hair, the far-away look in his eyes. Her gaze flits across his body, counting the bruises that still litter his skin before returning to his face.

The weight of her stare must have been heavy enough for Leon to notice, his blue eyes lifting to meet hers.

“What?”

The question falls from his lips, simple and easy to answer or wave off. Yet Cassie finds the words stuck in her throat. There was a purpose to her visit – beyond the consolation treats and easy friendship. She just wasn’t sure how to bring up the insane request that she had stowed in the back of her mind.

“Hello? Earth to Cass.”

Leon’s voice pulls her out of her head, that gentle smirk playing on his lips. A smirk that she matches.

“I was just thinking… do you know what we need?” she asks, deciding in that split second to dive headfirst into the wild proposal that she was about to make.

“What’s that?”

“A vacation.”

“That’d be nice,” Leon laughs, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice as his hand moves to take another spoonful of ice cream. “Did you have anything in mind?”

It is clear to Cassandra that he is ready to make a joke of this, laughing at the wild – but obviously fictional – adventures that would fall from her lips: skydiving, bungee jumping, parasailing. Each suggestion more ridiculous than the last. That’s how it usually went. That’s how this conversation was supposed to go. But when Leon looks up and sees the pink tinge smattered across her cheekbones, his smile drops.

“Cassie…” he says, elongating her name as a cautious warning.

“Okay, just hear me out.”

“I don’t even know what you’re about to say.”

“That’s why you need to hear me out,” she retorts and Leon know that he has no rebuttal and lets her continue. “So, like a month ago, Tristan and I signed up for this cool trip to the Bahamas. Like, all expenses paid tropical excursion with a guided boat tour that includes snorkeling and swimming with the pigs.”

“Pigs?”

“Yeah, wild pigs that you can swim with. Anyway, the tickets we bought included a plus-one, something we didn’t realize until we had already purchased them. And we didn’t feel like going through the hassle of trying to get a refund so we thought that we would invite Stella and Dylan, sort of a double date. But now… I mean, you know what happened. And long story short, I have a ticket to the Bahamas and I can bring someone along with me so I was wondering if you would like to come.”

Cassandra’s ranting finally ends, the long-winded explanation reaching its conclusion, the silence falling once again. She keeps her eyes locked onto Leon, trying to read every miniscule expression that crosses his face and prepare for whatever reaction may come.

“So, let me get this straight,” Leon begins, finally speaking. “You’re asking me to go on a tropical vacation with you? One that you were planning on going on with your boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Cassie retorts. She sees the exasperated look appear on Leon’s face and she knows exactly the thoughts that accompany that expression: that’s not the issue here. Cassandra just sighs, her chin falling into her open palm.

“Listen, I know it sounds crazy but I just… I just want something good to come out of those months I wasted with Tristan. Like, turning this trip that used to be for someone else into something for me. And, I just think it’d be nice to have a friend along for the ride.”

Cassandra lets Leon digest her words – both the proposal and her reasoning behind the invite. She simply looks on: watching as his gaze turns from her to stare into space, seeing his shoulders lift in a sigh, before his eyes turn back to her, a small grin playing at his lips.

“Sure, why not?”

“Wait. Really?”

“Cass, I’m accepting. Why are you questioning it?” Leon laughs, taking another bite of ice cream.

“Because it’s an insane idea and there’s no real reason for you to say yes to it?”

“And yet, here I am, saying yes,” he retorts. “You’re my best friend and I want to make you happy.”

The genuine tone that accompanies his words makes Cassie’s heart soften, a smile appearing on her face. A sigh whooshes through her, her entire posture relaxing into the kitchen chair.

“You really are great, you know that?” she says, grinning towards her best friend.

“I know,” Leon replies, his own body leaning back against the marble countertop. “Besides, I’d be stupid to pass up a free tropical vacation.”

His teasing words makes Cassie’s face twist into a playfully annoyed look, part of her tempted to throw a spoonful of ice cream at him to knock him down a peg. But that would be a shame. Not just because of the wasted ice cream but because that – that not so subtle cocky Leon – was her best friend coming back to being himself.

She wasn’t about to let him fade again.

~*~*~*~

If there was one thing that was true about any vacation it was this: the vacation itself was relaxing but the getting there was always stressful. Cassandra was not a fan of airports or planes or flying or anything of the sort. That was why she never moved from Edmonton, why her summers were spent at home or at her parent’s lake house – only a three-hour drive.

But throughout the trip from her home to her best friend’s house to the Edmonton airport to the Orlando airport to the Nassau airport to the hotel, she became even more thankful that she had Leon by her side. As a passenger of many flights, he kept her grounded even when they were thousands of feet in the air. He kept track of their bags – Cassie’s paranoia forcing him to check the airline tracker to make sure they were, in fact, on the plane with them – and guided her through the unfamiliar airport to their connecting flight. He even helped calm her down during the brief turbulence they experienced.

It wasn’t until they landed safely in the Bahamas and their taxi arrived at the hotel – with all their bags in tow – did Cassie truly relax, collapsing onto the hotel’s soft white sheets as soon as the door opened.

“Cassie.”

Leon’s voice cuts through the evening silence, a little sharper than Cassandra was used to but she immediately chalks his tone up to fatigue and stress from their busy travel day. She doesn’t even bother to respond, only uttering a small hum that was partially muffled by the sheets.

“Is there something you forgot to tell me?”

“Like what?” she mumbles, finally turning around from her starfish position to stare at Leon, standing at the foot of the bed.

“Like the fact that there is only one bed in this suite.”

It takes a minute for his words to sink in but when they finally register in Cassie’s brain, the shock of them feels like a splash of ice-cold water hitting her. Her body jolts upright, her blonde hair whipping around to see that he was indeed correct – the only bed to be found in their hotel room was the one that Cassie was currently sitting on.

“Oh, shit,” she mumbles, turning her sheepish gaze back to Leon. “Must’ve slipped my mind?”

Leon doesn’t give a verbal reply, just a sigh, punctuated by his arms crossing in front of him. An action that immediately makes Cassandra slip into the defensive.

“Well, I mean it makes sense,” she explains. “The voucher includes a plus one and it was advertised as a ‘romantic getaway’ so the assumption is that if you were buying a ticket, you were most likely sleeping together anyway.”

Her words bring a wry chuckle from Leon, one eyebrow raising in amusement. It takes a minute for Cassie to realize the connotation of her words, her eyes growing wide with embarrassment.

“I mean, sharing a bed,” Cassie says, the low lamplight doing nothing to hide the blush that floods her cheeks. Not that she ever saw Leon in that light… obviously.

“Well then, I guess for this trip we’re sleeping together,” Leon teases, although his quiet assertion – no matter how joking – making the flush on Cassie’s face deepen to an even redder scarlet. Her best friend just laughs, plopping down next to her on the mattress.

“You know you’re really cute when you blush.”

“Shut up Leon,” she mutters, jostling him with her shoulder, trying to diffuse the weird but most likely imagined tension between them.

“No, I mean it,” he continues to joke. “Maybe I’ll hide your sunscreen so your cheeks can stay pink.”

“If you hide my sunscreen, I will murder you.”

“On our romantic getaway? Not very loving of you.”

“Leon, I swear if you don’t stop talking, I will accidentally kick you on purpose the entire night,” Cassandra chirps, the harshness of her words diffused by the giggle that seeps through.

“Then I will loudly snore throughout the night so neither of us get any sleep,” he quips right back at her. His light-hearted teasing lessens the surprise of sharing a bed with her best friend, something that Cassie appreciates as she laughs, lifting herself off the mattress.

“So, we’re just planning on ruining this vacation for each other?” she jokes, rummaging through her suitcase for her pajamas and toiletries.

“Looks like it.”

“Then why did I even invite you?”

Leon’s only reply is a shrug as he kicks off his shoes and tosses his legs up onto the bed, his body leaning back against the headboard, his arms resting behind his head. Cassandra gives one last laugh before disappearing into the bathroom to go through her nighttime routine, silently grateful for how comfortable he is with the whole situation, glad he didn’t make a fuss over their newfound sleeping arrangements.

By the time she gets back, Leon is already in his loungewear, relaxing beneath the sheets with his phone in his hand. Cassie tries to remain as casual as he seems to be as she climbs into the other side of the bed, getting comfortable before reaching over and turning off the bedside lamp. Leon soon follows her actions, placing his phone down and clicking the switch, plunging the room into darkness.

“Night Cassie.”

“Goodnight,” she replies, nestling herself deeper into the covers. She is about to close her eyes and drift off when a thought dawns on her. Cassie turns towards Leon, her voice calling out.

“Hey, Leon.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually snore, do you?”

The first sound that hits her eardrums is Leon’s soft chuckle, her heart softening at the noise before his mischievous reply comes.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

~*~*~*~

The tropical sunlight filters through the windows, hitting Cassandra’s eyes and forcing them to open. However, they quickly shut again because of the blinding light, her body nestling into the sheets to try and block out the sun. Only when she could tell from behind her eyelids that she was in a shaded spot did her eyes flutter open. And she came face to face with a sleeping Leon.

The heart that she thought was still in the process of healing did a strange little skip in her chest at the sight of her best friend – how his brown hair looked even brighter in the morning light, how the crease that seemed to have a permanent place between his eyebrows had disappeared, and how peaceful he looked.

It was refreshing to see him so at ease, something she only saw in fleeting moments – moments that got even rarer when hockey season started up. Maybe it was a good thing that she invited him. Perhaps this trip could be as restorative for him as it was for her.

The sharp blare of a phone alarm rings out, breaking through the silence and causing Leon to stir, a soft moan leaving him. Cassie’s eyes snap shut immediately, although her brain chides her at the ridiculousness of her actions. It was Leon – he may have relentlessly teased her if he woke up with her eyes glued to him but he wasn’t going to make it weird. But still, Cassandra keeps her eyes closed until the alarm was quieted and Leon’s warm palm was gently pressing against her shoulder.

“Cass, wake up,” he says, his voice raspy from hours of disuse. She makes a show of groaning and turning before she lets herself ‘awake’, her body lifting in a stretch.

“What time is it?”

“9 am. So, it still feels like 7am our time.”

“Ugh, why are we up so early?”

“I have no clue, Cassie. You’re the one that set the alarm,” Leon laughs, tossing the blanket off of his body and inadvertently – or perhaps entirely on purpose – throwing it over Cassie’s head. She lets out a playful huff as she uncovers herself, her blonde hair sticking up in an even worse bedhead than before. Leon just smiles at her from his crouched position on the floor, his hands unzipping his suitcase.

“Oh!” she says, the realization dawning on her, infecting her voice with joy, and giving her a zip of energy to jump out of bed and run towards her own suitcase. “The boat tour is today!”

“The day after we arrive?”

“That was the original plan,” Cassie explains, grabbing her swimsuit and clothes. “Tristan and I thought it would be better to do the most agenda heavy event first then we could spend the next five days relaxing and doing whatever.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Leon sighs, the morning weariness still evident in his body.

“Don’t forget your swimsuit!” Cassie cheers, almost oblivious to Leon’s exhaustion, her own excitement moving through her like a shot of espresso as she flies into the bathroom. The click of the deadbolt covers Leon’s amused chuckle, her energy giving him a much-needed boost as well.

After shimmying into her bikini, throwing her loose white sundress over top, and clipping her hair up with her blue flower claw-clip, she walks out of the bathroom, finding Leon dressed and lounging in one of the armchairs.

“Ready to go?” she asks, throwing a few items into her round rattan purse before she slips on her sandals, fully turning to Leon. He lifts himself up, placing his phone into his back pocket.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Cassie just shoots him a bright smile, leading him out of the hotel room. The two of them depart, Cassandra’s preparation giving them enough time to walk down to the Margaritaville restaurant for their pickup instead of having to hail a cab. There isn’t a large number of sights to take in, most of Paradise Island taken up by the sprawling resort, but it is nice to relax. To take a moment and fully awaken before their planned adventures. They soon spy the restaurant with a small crowd of people standing outside, and they eventually make their way up, taking their place among the group.

“Hey, I’m going to see if the restaurant has any coffee. Do you want one?” Leon asks.

“That’d be great, thank you. Cream and sugar please,” she replies. Leon shoots her a wink, an action that Cassie responds to with a small smack on his bicep before he disappears through the doors, leaving Cassandra alone among the crowd. She makes polite small talk with the people around her, staring out towards the crystal blue of the ocean, a sigh escaping her chest.

This was going to be a great week – she was determined to make it so.

The light screech of a car’s breaks startles Cassie out of her reverie, her eyes turning towards the noise before landing on the taxi cab that just arrived. She watches as beautiful brunette steps out, looking like the epitome of an Instagram model, the sunglasses perched on her nose only highlighting the sharpness of her jaw and lift of her cheekbones. Cassie just watches in awe, wondering who this person was when she spies the brunette’s companion step out from the other side.

And the sight makes her heart drop.

No. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was her trip, her idea, something he only expressed a fleeting interest in. Which is why she never in a million years expected him to show up after things ended between them.

But there was Tristan, walking around the cab and taking the arm of the stunning brunette in his.

“Here you go.”

The gentle press of someone’s knuckles against her bicep startles Cassie, her body jumping and spinning, her eyes now connecting to a very confused Leon.

“What? What is it?” he asks, immediately clocking the distraught emotions so clearly painted on her face. Cassie watches as his eyes flick around, looking for the source of his best friend’s distress. It isn’t until his gaze lands on Tristan, clearly recognizing him from the few nights he tagged along with Cass to post-game celebrations, does his expression harden, a quiet curse falling from his lips.

“He’s not supposed to be here,” she says, voicing her racing thoughts, the anxiety in her words forcing Leon’s eyes to return to her. “I – I didn’t think he’d come. And who the fuck is that girl? What the hell is happening?”

The words are coming faster than Cassandra can control them, her breathing becoming staccato, any previous joy zapped from her. It is the gentle touch of fingers against her own, her eyes jumping down to see Leon’s hand wrapping around hers, that grounds her.

“Hey,” Leon says gently, “look at me.” The quiet demand immediately makes her obey, her blue eyes meeting his steely grey ones. “Breathe.” Cassandra copies the rise of his chest, her breath slowing as he keeps his gaze locked to her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How? This trip was supposed to be a way to get over my ex-boyfriend. Hard to do that when he’s less than three feet away.”

“I know. But are you going to let him ruin more of your life than he already has?”

The quiet determination in his voice makes her pause, her head tilting slightly. He was right, like he usually was. Tristan had already ruined six months of her year; she wasn’t about to let him ruin another six days.

“You’re right,” she sighs, her hand dropping from Leon’s. She shakes her body, trying to release any lingering anxiety from her muscles before picking up one of the disposable coffee cups Leon had set on a nearby bench. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he laughs, mirroring her movements. “Now calm down and drink your coffee.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” she quips back at him with a giggle. However, she can’t stop her eyes from wandering back towards where Tristan stood and silently curses when her gaze locks with his. His face is unreadable, his own eyes bouncing between her and Leon.

Perhaps it was petty, impulsive even, but Cassandra didn’t give herself enough time to talk herself out of it. Instead, she just let herself reach out to grasp Leon’s hand in hers again.

It is obvious that Tristan notices the action and she can see his nose subtly upturn at the sight. His reaction makes a small thrill run through her before her eyes tear from her ex to her current companion, looking down at her with a question in his eyes. All Cassandra does is mutter a small thank you before leaning her head against Leon’s shoulder. She doesn’t catch the small smile that tugs at her best friend’s lips, can’t hear his quickened heartbeat, but she does feel the small kiss that he presses into the crown of her head, his only reply a muffled ‘of course’.

It only takes a few minutes longer – minutes that Cassie spends trying not to focus on Tristain and his…  travel companion – before the boat turns up, a few other guests already onboard. Leon is a complete gentleman, hopping on the boat first before extending a hand to Cassandra to help her climb aboard. The two of them settle down on one of the bench seats as the boat takes off, gliding over the pristine waters towards the first stop on the itinerary; an itinerary that Cassie doesn’t realize Leon didn’t know until his elbow is nudging hers.

“So, what’s all included in this excursion? Besides the pigs, of course.”

“Oh, yeah,” Cassie laughs, shaking her head at her own lapse. “First, we’re going to Atoll Island where we can snorkel for a good amount of time. Then we’ll pass through Green Cay – we aren’t getting in the water there but you can apparently see a whole bunch of marine life from the boat. And finally, Rose Island. That’s where the piggies are. Plus, there’ll be a bunch other things to do like beach games, drinks, etcetera. And then it’s just back to the resort.”

“Sounds good,” Leon replies, leaning back in the seat.

“I’m sorry I forgot to tell you all of this. I should’ve since it’s technically your vacation now too.”

“Cass, I’m just here to support you. You can drag me along wherever and I’ll be happy.”

“You seem very chill about all of this,” Cassie laughs, shaking her head at her best friend’s laissez affair attitude. “What happened to the super serious intense hockey player that I know?”

“He thankfully disappears when faced with a tropical vacation.”

“Shame. I really liked him,” Cassie muses, taking a sip out of her water bottle, watching Leon from the corner of her eye. She sees his eyebrows raise, a bemused smirk appearing on his face. “But,” she continues with a playful sigh, “I suppose I could come to like this version of Leon Draisaitl.”

“You’re one of the only people who gets to see him,” Leon says, his voice soft but heavy with the weight of a genuine confession – a seriousness that Cassandra notices. She doesn’t hesitate to reach for his hand again, intertwining her fingers in his.

The boat continues its path across the ocean, bouncing gently over the soft waves before it slows to a stop about 300 feet off the coast of Atoll Island; or at least that’s what Cassie was told. After giving a brief run-down of snorkeling safety and the wildlife they might see, their guide hands out gear to each of the guests, telling them to enjoy their time in the ocean. Cassie excitedly hops up, spinning to direct her beaming smile towards Leon who grins back at her.

“Ready?” she asks him.

“As I’ll ever be,” comes his easy reply.

Leon lifts himself off the bench seat, kicking off his flip-flops. He removes his baseball cap to easily pull his t-shirt over his head, leaving him in his board shorts. And although Leon is just her friend and she has seen him shirtless before, it’s difficult to not let her eyes rove over his newly exposed chest and the cut of his muscles. It feels warranted though: Leon was a professional athlete – of course his body was fantastic. Plus, it was easy to forget how well-built he was when his body was often hidden underneath layers of hockey gear. So, Cassie doesn’t fight it and just lets her eyes rake over Leon.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” he chirps, the quip startling her out of her ogling. The blush rises to her cheeks when she sees the knowing look in Leon’s eyes, his gaze teasing before it bounces down to her long white sundress, one brow raised in a playful challenge.

Cassie doesn’t bother giving a verbal reply – granted she doesn’t think she could without embarrassing herself further. Instead, she just rolls her eyes as she removes her purse from her shoulder, setting it down on the chair. She kicks off her sandals, pushing them underneath the seat before her hands reach up to the bows resting on her shoulders.

She doesn’t mean to make the action hold any more weight than it should, intending for it to just be a playful moment with her best friend. But when her eyes meet Leon’s as her fingers unravel the ties on her dress, the fabric falling from her frame and exposing her bikini-clad body, she can’t help but notice the skip of her heart as she watches Leon’s gaze rake down her silhouette.

“Is,” Leon says, his voice faltering slightly. He clears his throat before resuming his question. “Is that new?”

“The swimsuit? Yeah, I bought it special for the trip,” Cassie replies, forcing her voice to remain casual to shrug off the tension that had once again risen between them.

“For the trip? So, for… you know who?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Cassandra sighs, her eyes rolling before they turn to survey the deck and land on Tristan. He isn’t looking in her direction, too caught up in putting his snorkeling gear on. Cassie’s eyes return to Leon, a devious smirk on her lips. “But now, it’s for me.”

“His loss,” Leon says, the words falling from his lips with a speed that somewhat startles Cassie. “You look great.”

His words bring the blush back to Cassie’s cheeks in full force, her head ducking down with a newfound bashfulness.

“Thanks,” she mutters, reaching for her goggles, taking them in her hand before returning her eyes to Leon’s. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Leon just laughs before placing his own goggle over his eyes. Cassandra follows his actions and takes his hand as they both walk towards the swim platform. One last adjustment of their gear and a grin are shared before they both jump into the aquamarine water.

It is easy for Cassandra to let all troubling thoughts disappear as she swims through the ocean, her eyes taking in the fish fliting around the coral reefs, pointing out starfish and sea urchins to Leon, the smile on her face clear even around the snorkel pressed against her mouth. Occasionally, Leon drifts away from her – to explore the ocean on his own, Cassie assumes. However, that assumption is proved partially incorrect when she turns her face towards him to point out the sea turtle swimming by and sees him aiming his phone in her direction, snapping a picture. The smile appears on her face again as she playfully throwing up a pair of peace signs and posing for him.

They spend almost all their allotted time in the sea, taking in the sights before they are called back onto the boat. Leon once again helps pull her aboard and even wraps the complimentary towel around her frame before grabbing one of his own. The two of them return to their seats, handing back the snorkeling gear to their guide.

“Thank you for taking pictures,” Cassandra says as she rings out her hair. “Out of everything I planned, I somehow forgot to include a waterproof phone case.”

“I figured you’d want some proof of this whole trip – something to look back on.”

“You’re right.”

“Like always,” Leon tacks on to her statement, making her laugh at his cocky confidence.

“Well, I don’t know if I would say that,” she teases, knocking her shoulder against his. “Will you send those pics to me?”

“I will. But maybe later. Let’s just enjoy the rest of today.”

Cassie nods in agreement, looking back over the horizon. Eventually, the guide announces their arrival in Green Cay, telling the guests to be on the lookout for some wildlife including sharks and sea turtles. Cassie and Leon stare into the blue waters, each of them pointing out the creatures that they did see swim by, arms pressed against each other on the railing. The boat cruises through the bay and in the distance, Cassandra can see an island growing larger as they approach. Her excitement raises higher, knowing that they were almost to Rose Island and to the swimming pigs – the part of the entire trip that she was most excited for.

The boat finally docks on the shore, the guests filing off and walking across the white sand beach. Cassie’s hands wrap around Leon’s bicep, her whole body bouncing when she sees the animals walking in the tide. Leon just smiles down at her, her own joy infectious. Their tour guide once again gives a quick explanation before handing each of them food for the pigs and leaving them to enjoy their time.

“Here, Cass,” Leon says, handing her is portion of food.

“You don’t want to come?” she asks, her blue eyes wide as she looks up to him.

“I’ll hang around but… I’m just not sure about the whole thing.”

Cassie can see the hesitation on his face, understanding the uncertainty. She doesn’t push him, instead letting him stand on the shoreline as she wades out into the water.

She stops when the water reaches her mid-thighs, turning to face the beach, her eyes connecting with Leon still standing on the sand. Cassie sends him a quick wave, one which he returns before her eyes drop down to see the pink, brown, and black mottled bodies of the pigs swimming out towards her. The smile on her face grows impossibly wider as she holds out her hand, letting the snout of the first pig that arrives nuzzle against the skin, munching on the food she offered. The animals swim around her, their snorts and squeals filling the air, making her laugh.

The food quickly vanishes from her hand, only a small amount remaining as her eyes lift to lock with Leon’s frame again. He is chatting with another guest but he must feel the weight of her stare because his gaze returns to hers. She smiles at him before her hand extends, beckoning him towards her. Cassie can see him hesitate again but there must be something in her smile or her ease that makes him push through any lingering fear as he wades out to meet her.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything, even once he reaches her. She just grabs his hand, gently pouring the remaining pig feed into his palm. She keeps his wrist in her grip, guiding his hand down towards the water. With her silent instruction, he holds his hand out towards the closest pig, letting the animal take the food from him. A small laugh falls from Leon as the pig eats from his hand, Cassie reaching out to pet the animal, the damp coarse hair gliding under her palm. Leon matches her movements, petting the pig himself as his face turns towards her, a smile on his lips.

“There’s a place where you can hold a piglet as well, if you want to,” she explains to him, the joyful lilt of her voice clear.

“Well then,” Leon replies, his tone mirroring hers. “What are we waiting for?”

They both eagerly wade back to the beach, occasionally stopping to pet some of the other pigs that swam by, before exiting the water and making their way towards the piglets. Cassandra’s heart immediately softens when she sees the tiny creature, before her heart soars as the animals is placed in her arms. She coos, the immediate baby-talk falling from her mouth as she holds the piglet, her fingers brushing over its softer skin. Cassie lifts her head up towards Leon only to see him lower his phone, surely taking another photo. There is no faking the smile on her face as Leon snaps the pic, his own grin obvious from behind the phone screen.

There is now no hesitance from Leon when Cassandra gently offers the piglet to him, his hands eagerly reaching out to take the animal from her. If Cassie thought her heart was soaring when the piglet was in her arms, it was doing somersaults when she saw the baby in Leon’s hands, looking even tinier against his body. It takes a few minutes for Cassie to snap out of her reverie before walking to him with a smile on her face. She reaches out towards Leon’s board shorts, her fingers touching the material causing Leon to startle.

“Your phone. For pictures. You deserve some too, you know?” she explains, a soft laugh on her lips as she glances towards the piglet softly snorting in his arms. “Besides, you have your hands full.”

Leon chuckles in resignation, knowing that there is no argument against her logic. Instead, he just turns his hip closer to her, allowing Cassie to slip her hand into his pocket to fish out his phone. She clicks the small camera icon before stepping back and snapping a few pictures.

They return the piglet to its home before they walk back towards the beach bar where most of the other guests linger. After sanitizing their hands and grabbing a few drinks, they find a vacant pair of lounge chairs and sit down. Leon takes out his phone and opens his camera roll, Cassie leaning over as Leon swipes through the pictures, every one almost perfectly framed despite being almost entirely candid.

“You know, you would be a really good Instagram boyfriend one day,” she teases as he continues to scroll through the album.

“How’d you guess my retirement plan?” he laughs, a grin shot in her direction. She giggles with him before taking a sip of her cocktail, resting back against the lounge chair, her eyes looking out over the ocean.

“Hey, Leon? You coming?”

Cassie turns to the sound of the voice addressing her best friend to see the guest that Leon was talking to earlier standing nearby, a volleyball under his arm.

“Be right there,” Leon replies, the man walking away before Leon turns to Cassandra. “He invited me to be a part of their team in beach volleyball,” he explains with a shrug.

“Should’ve known that the athlete couldn’t be taken out of you entirely,” she chirps before playfully shooing him away with a wave of her hand. He shoots her a small departing smile as he gets up and jogs over towards the court. Cassie returns to her relaxed position, letting the sun warm her skin as she breathes in the salt air.

“Is this seat taken?” a feminine voice asks.

Cassandra opens her eyes and it takes everything in her power not to startle when she sees the brunette – the one that was accompanying Tristan – standing in front of her. Thankfully, her shock isn’t noticed by the girl, allowing Cassie to compose herself before gesturing to the vacant chair next to her.

“It’s all yours. Leon is currently playing volleyball so he won’t be using it anytime soon,” she explains, her light-hearted tease causing the brunette to laugh as well as she sits down.

“Boys. Always finding a way to show-off, right?” the woman teases. “I’m Chloe, by the way.”

“Cassandra.”

Cassie’s eyes stay glued onto Chloe’s face, waiting for a reaction to the name, waiting for an acknowledgement of who she is and who she used to be to Tristan. But there is none, just a compliment on her ‘cool’ name as Chloe lounges back on the chair. Cassie lets herself relax, even though Chloe’s reaction – or lack thereof – leaves her mind reeling. It is a moment of silence before Cassie speaks again.

“I think I saw you arrive outside of the restaurant before we left. Quite an entrance.”

“Oh my god,” Chloe laughs, turning her body towards Cassandra. “I will let you know that it was 100% not part of the plan. Nor what I usually like to do. But my boyfriend, Tristan, completely spaced on what was on today’s agenda so when we did figure it out, we had to speed to the restaurant or we would’ve missed this whole excursion.”

“Jeez,” Cassie says. “Good thing you made it.”

“Good thing I asked Tristan,” Chloe teases. “I swear. This man surprised me with these tickets to celebrate our six-month anniversary but it honestly seems like he has no idea what he himself planned out.”

If they were anywhere else and if Chloe had been one of Cassandra’s close friends, she knows they would share a laugh over the idiocy of her ex-boyfriend, lamenting over his disorganization and ineptitude. But now, the only words that caught Cassie’s attention were ‘six-month anniversary.’

Tristan and her broke up a month ago. The latest that he could’ve ‘surprised’ Chloe with the tickets was at least a week before today. But no matter what the minute details were, the math all pointed towards one thing: Tristan had been cheating on her. For months.

“Well, men are hopeless,” Cassie replies, trying not to let the anger bubbling within her seep into her words.

“Tell me about it,” Chloe laughs. “But you look like you managed to snag a pretty good one. I saw him standing on the beach, taking pictures of you with the pigs. How long have the two of you been dating?”

“Me and Leon?” Cassie asks, both Chloe’s praise and assumption about their relationship catching her off-guard. Chloe simply nods, her brown eyes bright and eager. Her excitement makes that petty part of Cassie trill again and even though she knows that she shouldn’t, she decides not to correct Chloe. “We’ve known each other for years now. One of my friends was – well, still is – dating one of his friends. That’s how we met. And the rest, like they say, is history.”

“Oh, that’s so cute. I just met Tristan through a dating app. Very romantic, I know.”

“Hey, whatever works right?” Cassie replies, every additional information Chloe innocently shares acting like a dagger piercing her deeper.

It was a blessing in disguise when Cassandra sees Leon jogging up towards her, thankful for the interruption before her façade cracked. Chloe follows her eyeline, noticing Leon as well and she excuses herself, walking back towards the beach bar. Leon glances in the direction of Chloe’s departure before turning back to Cassie with a questioning look on his face.

“Tristan’s?”

“Her name is Chloe,” Cassie chides. “She actually seems pretty nice. But Tristan is a bigger piece of shit than I ever could’ve imagined,” she continues on, her words growing angrier with every passing syllable. She notices Leon’s eyes widening at her fury and sits down in the chair next to her, his body leaning towards her, a silent invitation for her to continue.

“He met her on a dating app… while he was still with me. This trip was a surprise for Chloe to celebrate their six-month anniversary.”

The silence falls between them, Leon doing the math as easily as she did only moments ago and Cassie sees that scowl appear on his face. She doesn’t say anything else, not even sure if there was anything left to say, instead letting a sigh woosh out of her as she collapses back onto the lounge chair, turning her attention back to the waves.

“Do you want me to kick his ass for you?”

Cassandra’s head whips towards him, her look of resignation transforming to one of shock at her best friend’s words. Leon’s face remains impassive, his words still hanging between them.

“What?”

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” Leon asks, pausing to let a small grin appear on his face before he continues. “In beach volleyball, I mean. I think his team is playing against mine next.”

There is no stopping the cackle of laughter that falls from Cassandra at Leon’s statement, her head shaking at her friend’s joke. Leon’s own grin widens, happy to hear her laugh again. Cassie looks back at him, her blue eyes soft.

“Would you?”

“Anything for you,” he replies, lifting himself off his chair before holding out his hand. “Want to come cheer me on?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Cassandra says, grabbing Leon’s hand and letting him pull her towards the court.

It’s hard not to notice Tristan’s eyes locked on her and Leon as they arrive, but Cassie finds that she doesn’t care. He didn’t have the right to be angry; this was her trip and now, she was absolutely not about to let her cheating scumbag of an ex ruin it. She wishes Leon a quick good luck before she finds a vacant chair. She ends up sitting next to a group of other guests and attempts to engage in small talk. However, it’s almost impossible to keep her focus when Leon is playing.

Once again, her brain chides her at being so awe-struck by her best friend. Cassandra knew he was attractive – hell, she couldn’t recall a night she went out with the team where he hadn’t been hit on. But now, for some reason, the revelation was hitting Cassie like a ton of bricks. Leon Draisaitl was hot: the way the golden sun bounced off his skin, the sharp lines of his muscles, how his body moved with the precise athleticism that he had perfected through years of training, the sound of his laughter floating in the ocean breeze.

The sound of cheering and applause snaps Cassie back to the present moment, her eyes refocusing on Leon and the three guys he was playing with coming together in a group celebration. And Cassie realizes that Leon did exactly what he promised he would: he beat the crap out of her ex at beach volleyball.

She cheers with the rest of the guests, watching as Leon’s team moves to shake hands with the others. It is good-hearted until Leon meets Tristan in the center. Cassie watches as Tristan looks towards her and then back to Leon before rebuffing Leon’s outstretched hand, sportsmanship apparently meaning little to him. Leon just shrugs, looking towards her with an incredulous look on his face, an expression that screams ‘can you believe that?’ before he jogs back over to Cassie.

Her next actions are entirely impulsive as she practically leaps onto him, engulfing him in a potentially overzealous hug. But if Leon was surprised, he doesn’t show it, wrapping his arms around her and even spinning her a few times, their laughter combining before setting her back down onto the white sand.

“You won!” she cheers.

“I told you I would.”

The rest of the afternoon is filled with more downed cocktails, more games played, and more conversations had before their guide is calling them back to the boat. Cassie and Leon find their seats, sitting down as they begin their journey back to their resort. The sun is low in the sky, painting the clouds in a beautiful array of oranges and pinks. Cassie leans against Leon, staring out towards the horizon, a contented sigh running through her. It’s instinctive how Leon wraps his arms around her, pulling her tighter against his chest, holding her close.

“Thank you,” Cassie says, her voice gentle. She looks back towards him, a blissful smile on her face. “For everything. Coming with me, being so chill about everything, making me laugh. Everything.”

“Of course,” he replies, glancing down at her with a matching smile on his lips. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

The statement should’ve been an innocuous one. After all, it had been shared between them many times before this, a way of affirming their friendship and loyalty to each other. But Cassie is surprised to notice how much it stings, the pain momentarily passing through her before she shakes it off.

It was ridiculous reaction. Besides, that’s what she and Leon were: friends.

Nothing more.

~*~*~*~

If anyone were to ask Cassandra to describe her vacation in one word, the adjective she would’ve chosen might have surprised some people. They most likely would’ve expected a word like exciting or fantastic or even something as simple as fun. But instead of any of those, she would’ve said it was… confusing.

In some ways, her word choice might’ve seemed reasonable. A tropical getaway to physically and emotionally get away from your ex-boyfriend only to have that same ex show up and learn that he mistreated you even more than you had previously imagined? That would send anyone’s emotions into a tizzy. But Tristan wasn’t the person that had been taking up residence in Cassie’s mind, turning everything that she thought she knew upside down.

No, that distinction belonged to Leon.

Leon, her best friend. Leon, who willingly agreed to join her on this trip. Leon, who tagged along with her no matter what she wanted to do: explore the island, go on shopping trips, lounge on the beach, anything. Leon, who made her laughter come with an ease that Cassie thought would take months to get back. Leon.

The man who was currently leaning against the wooden beachfront bar a few feet away from her, casually chatting to the bartender, the half-drunk bottle of Corona still in his hand. He looked so at ease, with his partially unbuttoned white shirt, khaki shorts, and slides – the very epitome of someone who spent their life just chilling by the sand. How different he was here with her than he was back in Canada. How relaxed he seemed. Part of her wished this trip would never end, that they could stay here next to the sea and in the salt air.

But that couldn’t happen. Tomorrow was their last day and then they would be back on plane and back to their normal lives. It might be for the best. Maybe the feelings that had taken root in Cassie would die once they landed back in Canada, away from the fantasy of summer.

Although that very thought causes a pang of sadness to thrum through her.

She just sighs, directing her attention back to her phone, scrolling through the endless pictures Leon had taken for her, trying to pick her favorites and make them into a collage that accurately captured the perfect – albeit, fleeting – joy of this vacation.

She hears the chair across from her shift through the sand, a body settling down into the seat and she expects another quip about her ridiculous choice of cocktails to fall from Leon’s lips. But instead of her best friend’s voice, she hears a different voice; one that she had known for six months and one that she had been trying to erase from her mind.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Cassandra’s head jolts up, her eyes landing on Tristan’s frame now sitting across from her.  

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he continues, his arms crossing over his chest as he stares her down. Cassie’s shocked expression quickly morphs to one of anger, a scoff falling from her lips.

“Didn’t think I would come to the vacation that I planned just because you wouldn’t be with me? So sorry to disappoint,” she quips, her eyes rolling at her ex’s audacity. Her words don’t make him depart, something she was hoping he would do when he realized she wasn’t heartbroken over him. But he doesn’t budge, his eyes staying glued to her. “What do you want Tristan?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you bothering me?” she asks, shooting daggers at him with her eyes. “Shouldn’t you be lying to another girl you met on a dating app?”

“Jealous?” Tristan quips, that infuriating fuckboy smirk appearing on his lips.

“Of you being someone else’s problem? Not in the slightest. I do feel sorry for Chloe though; she seems really sweet. Shame that she has no idea she’s dating a cheating asshole.”

“Oh, please, like you’re one to talk,” Tristan spits, his tone morphing from cocky to contempt. “You’re no better than I am.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb. Chloe told me everything. You and Leon.”

It takes a minute for his words – so full of hate and vitriol – to fully register with Cassie. He actually believed that she had been cheating on him?

“You’re an idiot,” Cassie scoffs. The statement, however true, was not the strongest rebuttal against Tristan’s assumption. But that was because she quickly realized any truthful defense she would make would seem like an outright lie. She all but told Chloe that her and Leon had been together for years. However, she didn’t expect that white lie to come back to bite her this dramatically.

“Sure,” Tristan jeers. “You think I never noticed how obsessed the two of you were with each other? And you’ve only been more all over each other the past few days. Probably because you don’t need to lie to me anymore. I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised. I always thought you were fucking him behind my back. Turns out I was right.”

“No, you’re just a bigger dumbass than I thought you were.”

“Oh, will stop being such a stuck-up bitch Cassandra,” Tristan snaps, his hand coming down to smack against the wooden table, his voice raising. “You act like you’re so much better than everyone but in reality, you’re just a two-faced slut.”

“You are fucking insane, Tristan,” Cassie says, the tension between them rendering her somewhat speechless, capable of only repeating insults. Unfortunately, her lack of denial just seems to make Tristan feel justified enough to continue.

“Not just a slut, a puck bunny even. Can’t imagine what Leon will do the minute he realizes that you’re just using him for his fame and money. He’d probably drop you faster than I did and move on to the next blonde he finds. Trust me Cassie, there are plenty of girls out there looking to take your place. You’re nothing special, just another bitch looking for her five-seconds of fame.”

The moments that follow seem to happen in slow motion.

A hand appears on Tristan’s shoulder. Tristan turns to look at whoever it was touching him. Then, a closed fist making contact with the side of Tristan’s jaw. The force of the hit knocks Tristan flat out of the seat, his body crashing into the sand below. It is only then that Cassandra registers that the fist belonged to Leon, who was now standing over Tristan, looking every level of pissed off.

“What the fuck dude!!?” Tristan yells, jumping to his feet, his hand rubbing against his jaw.

“Don’t you dare talk about Cassie like that,” Leon says, the tone of his voice colder than Edmonton winters.

“Or what?” Tristan spits, stepping forward into Leon’s space, his own hands curling into fists.

The absolute disbelief at the entire situation forces Cassandra to stay frozen in her seat, unable to move or even fully comprehend what this evening had devolved into. In another move that only further highlighted her ex’s stupidity, Tristan’s own fist comes up to connect with Leon’s face. That action seemed to be the catalyst that caused both of their simmering angers to boil over. Fists start flying, hands twisting into shirts, wild haymakers being thrown, some connecting with skin, some only hitting air. Cassie’s eyes try to track the damage, the only odd thought coming to her brain being a small relief that they were outside and far away from the main resort.

Somehow – or not surprisingly, considering his career – Leon manages to throw Tristan down, the impact of her ex’s body sending up a spray of sand. Tristan scrambles up from the ground, taking a few steps back.

“You’re fucking insane! Both of you!!” he yells, before retreating back to the resort.

It is only after Tristan’s angry cursing fades does Cassie look around, the curious eyes of some of the other guest directed towards them. Leon is still standing on the beach, his shoulders tight and his breathing heavy. Cassandra finally peels herself from her seat, walking over to her best friend and placing a gentle hand on his bicep.

“Leon,” she whispers. Her gentle voice pulls Leon’s gaze towards her and she feels a sharp pang when she sees the small cut on his brow. Her eyes travel down to the torn skin over his knuckles, his hands still clenched. “Let’s – let’s go back to the hotel room. Get you cleaned up.”

“What about your drink?” Leon asks breathlessly.

Cassie’s eyebrows furrow before her head turns to see another Corona bottle and her brightly colored cocktail with one too many umbrellas sitting at a different table nearby. The remembrance of why Leon wasn’t at the table earlier hits her as she realizes he must have placed the drinks down before… all this happened.

“Leon,” she says, her voice coming out in a slight breathless laugh. “The last thing I’m worried about is our drinks.”

It must’ve been something in her tone, in her laughter that makes Leon visibly relax. He allows Cassie to take his hand – avoiding contact with his wounds – and guide him through the resort. By pure luck or pure coincidence, they are not stopped as they walk into the building, through the lobby, into the elevator, and down the hallway. They make it all the way back to the hotel room, Cassie pushing Leon into the bathroom and making him sit on the closed toilet lid.

They both seem to be in a fugue state, Leon just staring into space while Cassandra absentmindedly rummages through the cabinets under the sink, grabbing her miniature first aid kit. She opens it and grabs a small antiseptic wipe. It isn’t until she steps between Leon’s thighs do his grey eyes finally connect to her.

There aren’t any words spoken between them; Cassie just takes his hand and gently wipes away the sand and blood from his knuckles, gently shushing him when he winces.

“You know,” Cassie muses, finally breaking the silence that was lingering between them, “when I agreed to have you beat up my ex, this isn’t exactly what I meant.”

A slight chuckle falls from Leon, followed shortly by another wince as she brushes the wipe over his wounds. Without moving from the space between his legs, Cassie tosses the cloth into the nearby trashcan before grabbing some bandages from the kit and gently wrapping them around his knuckles.

“I didn’t like how he was talking about you,” Leon explains, his eyes turning away from her, staring into space again as if he was replaying Tristan’s insults in his mind.

“He’s an asshole. You tried to warn me. Guess you were even more right than I ever thought.”

“I’m not going to tell you I told you so,” Leon teases, redirecting his gaze towards her.

“You better not, considering I’m the one patching you up,” Cassie playfully threatens.

After bandaging both hands, she lowers them onto his thighs before grabbing another antiseptic wipe, turning her focus onto the cut above his eyebrow. Her hand finds its place underneath his chin – a gentle hold to keep him from flinching away. It works well enough, although Leon still grimaces in response to her ministrations.

“I can now see why you don’t normally fight on the ice,” she quips, wiping the dried blood from his skin.

“Usually someone else does it so I never really have to.”

“So, if Darnell Nurse were here, he’d be the one beating up Tristan, not you?”

“No,” Leon says, his voice quieting. “It’d still be me.”

“Oh really,” Cassie teases. “And why is that?”

Another hiss falls from his lips, his hands jumping up to land on the back of her own thighs. The touch is soft and it sends a jolt of warmth through Cassandra. Her eyes dart down a few centimeters from the cut on his eyebrow to Leon’s own grey eyes, staring up at her. And her breath catches in her throat at the sight.

Because Leon is looking at her with the utmost tenderness, a look that she has only ever seen in movies or in her wildest dreams. But even her dreams never prepared her for the possibility of her best friend looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky.

“I’d always fight for you Cassie.”

The statement falls from Leon’s lips is filled with a quiet conviction; the sentence weighted with more confession than those six words conveyed by themselves. Maybe it was fear or uncertainty or simple disbelief that makes the one question escape from Cassandra.

“Why?”

The immediate response from Leon is just a smile – that damnable smile that always made Cassie smile back. A smile that she always thought was affectionate but only ever platonic. But now, it was as if a curtain had been lifted and she could see him clearly. It had been disappearing slowly, a little more every day during this trip, bringing Leon into a new light, a glow as warm and the tropical sunshine. But now, the realization of how much he meant to her and how much she meant to him was as crystal clear as the coastal oceans.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks, his voice still soft.

There is nothing that Cassandra can say, no words in any language that she could string together to fully explain the weight of this revelation. There is only this feeling of truth, of clarity. It was Leon – it had always been Leon.

She can feel his hands on her bare skin, still feel the soft cut of his jawline in her palm, still see the look of pure… love on his face. And in that moment, there is nothing she wants to do more than kiss him. It feels as if she spent another second without Leon Draisaitl’s lips on hers, she might die.

So, she doesn’t wait any longer; she simply leans in and presses her lips against his. She can feel Leon’s fingers jolt against her skin, in shock or surprise, but it is only momentary before they tighten around her thighs, pulling her closer to him as he kisses her back. The energy that surges between them isn’t fireworks or electricity or any of the other cliches that Cassie read about in romance books. It feels simple, easy, inevitable. As easy as breathing, as simple as coming home, as inevitable as the sunrise.

Eventually, their lips fall from each other. They do not separate entirely, foreheads still touching as their eyes meet again, breathing slightly heavy as they take in everything that had changed in just a few short minutes.

“I’ve been wanting to do that forever,” Leon whispers.

“You should’ve done it sooner,” Cassie laughs. “Then this entire trip could’ve been avoided.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that,” he replies. “This was one of the best vacations I’ve had in a long time.”

“Swimming with pigs, beating up my ex, kissing your best friend. It is pretty memorable.”

Leon chuckles, his shoulders moving underneath Cassie’s hands before he lifts his head up to kiss her again. Her arms easily wrap around his shoulders as she leans into him further, his hands drifting up her thighs, sneaking under the hem of her sundress, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Do you want to make it more memorable?” he asks, his voice dipping lower, intoxicating her. Cassie only replies with a small hum; a quiet encouragement for him to go on.

“Do you remember what you said when we first got here?” Leon continues, his lips falling from hers to trail across her jawline. “Something about how the people that bought these tickets were probably sleeping together?”

A laugh rumbles from Cassie’s chest, slightly breathless from the gentle touch of Leon’s lips against her neck.

“I think I recall saying something like that.”

“Well then, what do you say we make use of that single bed?” Leon proposes, his head moving away from her body to look back in her blue eyes, the mischievous sparkle behind his own irises oh so familiar.

“Considering that we might be kicked out tomorrow since you fist-fought another guest? Probably should make the most of our last night sharing a bed.”

“Trust me,” Leon says as he stands up, keeping Cassie’s body pressed to his as he guides her out of the bathroom and into the main hotel room. “This definitely won’t be the last time I have you in bed with me.”

“Is that a promise, Leon Draisaitl?”

“I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

[simpcityy]

I'm Not Her Pt.5 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one, two, three and four please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below) This chapter is full on Miguel's POV.

Word Count: 300 words

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel…mention of blood, stabbing, knife, cursing, maybe consider yandere behavior from other dimensional Miguel and Miguel's POV/version of the story??...Uhhh I think that is all for now.

I know it's short, very short but It's better than not being able to read another chapter for a long time.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Miguel's Version?? POV-ish? (I know there is term, but my head is fried from college classes) Also Scenes with Jess and Peter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain, that was all he felt when his eyes open. He looked around his surroundings noticing he was on a pile of trash bags. Letting out a grunt, Miguel looks down at his abdomen seeing the bleeding, "Lyla?" He calls out before looking at his arm, his watch missing " Puta Madre" He whispers and looks around before getting out of the dumpster. He leans up against the wall and recollects his thoughts out loud. "Okay, Other me too my life...stabbed me with the intentions of killing me...shut Lyla off...(Y/N) ...(Y/N)!" He finally took note of his daughter's life, you were in danger seeing the crazy look on that other dimensional self. "No no no..." He repeats before swinging up to the roof top to avoid being spotted. Reaching the rooftop, he punches the wall, " What to do Miguel!" He yells at himself feeling lost. He slowly slides down the wall and puts his hand over his wound, his healing function slowly working on the wound, but it still hurts. Many emotions were running through his mind, hurt, anger and mostly, disappointment. He was disappointed in himself for every leaving someone who was his flesh and blood. What went wrong? He thinks back to the time where he left his dimension to be with Gabriella, the day of your birthday. He knew it was wrong but, something pulled him to that dimension before destroying it. He looks at his hands where Gabriella was taken from him. Slowly, the image of her was replaced with you. "No!" He gets up determined, he wasn't going to lose you next.

Miguel walked down the streets of this earth he was stuck in, after knocking a drunken man who was harassing a young lady. Which he was gifted a 50 dollar from the young woman for helping her. He used it to buy clothing to fit in and draw less attention. He was on edge in case this earth had another Miguel which he would happily keep his distance after experiencing the variant who dumped him here. He stops at the Alchemax building and walks past a couple of workers who were busy chatting, taking the opportunity to sneak his hand in their lab coat pocket, taking their ID card. He walks through the thick doors, sliding the card accessing him to the lab. Taking the nearest empty Lab, he got to work on making a prototype watch to take him home. He doesn't care if it was going to take weeks, he will get his life back but most importantly, get you back before he loses you for good.

Back at the Spider Society, Peter walked down the hall into Miguel's office with Jess. " Empty...this is the second day he hasn't shown and not responding our text?" Peter looks around the office, for any clues where his boss might be. Jess walks over " You know what's stranger...no Lyla or (Y/N) either..." The woman stands next to him looking at the monitors trying to find Miguel's location without his approval before smiling " Ah, it shows he's back home with (Y/N), maybe he took your advice Peter." He looks at the location, your dot and "Miguels" together. " Miguel? Taking my advice? I doubt it but hey miracles happen sometimes" Peter shrugs before looking at the dots " Maybe he finally took note and appreciate what he has now and not what he lost in the past?" The tired man smiles softly, " I can't wait to tease him for taking my so-called terrible advice, I'm a great mentor after all!" He grins before seeing warning signs on the computer. " Hey Jess...what's with that?" He backs away from the computer quickly " I swear I did not touch a button!" Jess quickly types away, " Seems trying to hack us? No... trying to reprogram..." She goes to stop whatever is going on before Lyla's voice can be heard. " N-no Stop!" Her voice glitches out. The woman pulls her hands away from the computer. Lyla was finally rebooted and appears in front of them. " We have a big emergency!" Both adults look at each other before nodding looking back at Lyla, " Tell us what to do."

Miguel growls breaking the 5th watch as it failed. " Maldita Sea! " He pulls on his hair in frustration, he grips the table quickly as he glitches, time was wasting for him. For your life and his. He walks over to the bench to grab more materials before looking back seeing a portal open. " For once, I am happy to see you." Miguel mutters seeing Peter stand there smiling " Need help buddy? As a dad myself, let's go save your kid."

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

Authors Note: I'M BACK...for now... but THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! So much love this series are getting. Thank you so much for the support. Make sure to like and reblog so others can be aware of my works! Anyway, thank you so much for the support! Sorry for any grammar errors. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 364 *WOW!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH*)

Spanish Translation: 1. Puta Madre - Soo...it has a lot of meaning like holy shit, no fucking way or motherfucker...just know it's not a very nice word and I grew up with Mexican uncles who say it a lot. 2. maldita Sea - fucking dammit.

Taglist: @perfectprofessorloverapricot @otaku-degenarate @strbyallycow @zeyzeys-stuff @moonshine147 @dhadiirah @ghibliwatcher @certified-kaeya-kinnie @luvsvnlqt-things @lunamhm565i @sangdium45 @lazyotakuofficial @ihateuguys @pinkeroppi @lady-necromancer @ayanokomu @coralineyouareinterribledanger @idcalol @punnylilac @ace-spades-1 @marxo5 @reiko69 @itadorismedicalstudent @bontensbabygirl @Simpthe3rd @fluffyart5000 @blkmystery @ariparri @i-d-k-f-r @champomiel @oooof-ifellforyou @jannajuju @staple-your-mouth @atanukileaf @namtaeh @estella-satn @darlin-collins @acebalikkanaplease @luvers-checks @arrozyfrijoles23 @sigynxlokiwifelover @millerworld @perilous-pasta @tired-writer04 @marit332 @kiyomi-uchiha777

I know some names don't get tagged, I don't know why. If spelled it incorrectly, let me know, I have terrible eyesight. Please comment below to be added to or removed from the taglist! Thank you!

[alisonfelixwrites]

the deal - part 3/3 (*) [harry styles au]

//

part one, part two

summary: in which harry and claire continue to fight for custody of atlas while also attempting to take steps in their own relationship

word count: 12,756

content warning: custody battle! heavy topics of child neglect, physical/emotional abuse, mentions of drug use, etc. smut!!

___________________________________________

“Claire?” Harry softly asked, waiting outside the door she locked herself into.

His eyes softly closed, forehead resting against the wood as he heard retching and vomiting from the other side. Harry wore a dress shirt and slacks, dressing up for court even if he wasn’t being heard or if the judge would hardly look at him.

But he wanted to be here for Claire, even if she insisted she was fine coming on her own.

Seeing her rush into the restrooms before the hearing even started, was enough proof to Harry that she was most definitely not fine.

“Babe?” He checked again, breathing out the word in defeat as there was silence from the other end. He heard her slightly coughing and then he heard the flushing of the toilet before Claire unlocked the door, wiping her eyes and straightening out her blouse.

Her eyes were rimmed red and the bags underneath them seemed to have darkened a shade. She fixed the clip in her hair while sniffling, “Sorry.” She muttered, walking past Harry and towards the sinks to wash her hands and rinse her mouth a bit. 

Harry looked at her through the mirror as he slipped a gentle hand to her lower back, “‘S okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

Even Atlas and Finn had noticed this morning, that something was up. Tensions in the house were at an all time high any time Claire was supposed to head to court and face Evan. It wasn’t the first time, but him and his lawyer always found ways to postpone or buy themselves time.

And in the meantime, Claire and Evan had to stick to what the court told them - which was that Atlas spent at least six hours at his father’s house every other Saturday. Claire always dreaded dropping him off but insisted walking him up to the door. Evan never looked good. He always had a sick, smug smile on his lips. He wasn’t doing this for Atlas, he was just doing it to get a rise out of her.

She remembered crying in Harry’s car the last time because once Claire had hugged Atlas goodbye and he went inside, Evan said to her that he’d do everything he could to stay in control of her life before slamming the door.

After a good cry, it was time to convince Harry to not go knocking on his door and then punch his teeth out. But Harry’s hands had tightly gripped the steering wheel as they drove home in silence, and both him and Claire weren’t themselves in those six hours.

Evenings were then spent with Atlas cuddling up to both of them, even Finn. He regressed to being a little baby on those days, sucking his thumb and needing a soft scalp massage before he requested for Harry to carry him to bed and then Harry and Claire both tucked him in. 

He usually had nightmares those nights, but not as bad as the nights before he was supposed to be at Evan’s. Atlas never said much about the time spent at his father’s house, and Claire and Harry didn’t pry.

And so months went on, and here she was again. With fresh hope that the judge would make a conscious decision to cut ties between Atlas and his father. That they could finally see the effect it had on Atlas and that Evan didn’t give a single fuck about his son.

“I love you.” Harry murmured from behind her, finally pulling Claire into his chest and she allowed him. Claire exhaled into his neck, pinching her eyes shut to keep more tears from falling out. Harry’s arms felt like a warm blanket surrounding her, and she was catapulted into memories of comfort and warmth as she leaned against him. And she let herself lean against him - which was almost the biggest challenge of all.

“I love y-you too.” She croaked out, sniffling. Harry kissed her temple, “And I’m so proud of you. Atlas will remember this forever, the way you fought for him. I promise.”

Claire quickly nodded, “Yeah.” She agreed, trying to remember what she was doing this for. Or who she was doing this for. Future Atlas. To give him peace. To know she did everything in her power to make him happy and give him a brighter future.

“We have to go in now,” Harry’s heart sank a bit as he pulled Claire back a bit and cupped her cheeks, “sorry.” He murmured. Claire swallowed and nodded, “Okay. Do you have gum?”

“Yeah.” He patted his pockets and pulled out a packet of gum, “Here. Your breath doesn’t smell, by the way.” He reassured her in a small joke. Claire huffed out a humourless chuckle and popped the gum in her mouth. Lacing their fingers together, Harry and Claire exited the ladies rooms to head to where they were supposed to be.

“There you are.” Timothy - their lawyer - exhaled a breath of relief. He was the new lawyer Claire had been working with ever since she started dating Harry. She only admitted it to herself with pink cheeks, but Timothy was the kind of lawyer she was unable to afford with her own money. 

Harry didn’t mind spending his own money on help for Claire or Atlas. They were his family, and no length was too far for him to go to, to ensure their safety and happiness. Besides, he had more money than he could spend after working full-time after Astrid’s departure and hardly having a social life.

Claire’s stubbornness made her reluctant to always accept Harry’s financial help, but it was for the greater good.

“Sorry.” Claire cleared her throat, “I wasn’t feeling too well.”

“Nervous?” Timothy checked and Claire nodded, holding onto Harry’s hand who gave her a gentle squeeze, “Mhm.”

Timothy rested a hand on her shoulder, “We’re doing good, Claire. We have accusations for a lot of things, and Evan is unable to give a decent response to all of them.” He tried to soothe her.

Claire just swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah.” She sighed.

The next twenty minutes were pure hell for Claire once more. She went into the courtroom, feeling Harry’s presence behind her as the judge stared at both her and Evan, and their lawyers.

Claire felt fidgety the entire time, but trusted Timothy, who did a splendid job. Of course, Evan and his lawyer played it just as dirty and kept bringing up Claire’s past in drug use and how she was really only back on track ever since being with Harry. How she had to split her attention between Atlas and Finn and how that caused her to not be fully there for their son.

Claire saw red at that and jumped up her feet, briskly turning towards Evan and firing at him, asking him if he even knew Atlas’ birthday.

The judges’ brows had raised high when Evan shamefully spoke out the wrong date.

But, in true Evan-fashion, he did buy himself more time to get his life on track.

A social inquiry.

His lawyer suggested it and the judge blindly agreed. Tears prickled in Claire’s eyes when she realized what it meant. More months of this. More court dates, more conversations, a social worker coming to their house to talk to her, Harry and Atlas.

Just to verify what everyone actually already knew.

Claire felt defeated when Harry drove them home, his hand on her thigh and the music turned down.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He murmured once the engine was turned off and they were in the driveway of the house. Claire turned her head to face him, offering him a faint smile as she nodded, “I know. Thank you.”

Harry felt a bit stupid, unsure of what the right thing to say was. There weren’t really any good things to say to a mother in this position. And Claire was such a damn good mother, she didn’t deserve any of this.

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “I love you.” He repeated.

Claire nodded again as her bottom lip wobbled, “I love you too, Harry.”

They stayed in silence in the car for a bit until heading inside. The boys were at school and they had a few hours to themselves. Claire did her usual routine after going to court, changing into gym clothes to go on a long run. Harry on the other hand, threw himself into work. 

He sat at his desk, drawing and erasing and drawing and erasing as he got a job to design a new office building for a bank.

He was hunched over, a concentrated frown on his face when Claire walked back in, sweat pearling at her hairline and her eyes still hollow and tired. She panted out after her run, heading into the kitchen for water and to do some stretching.

Harry leaned against the doorpost, watching her as she chugged down water and used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead. She felt his presence behind her and turned around, leaning against the countertop, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Harry exhaled, “Do you - uh… do you want to shower together? Before the boys get home?”

Claire’s stomach dropped a bit. She knew the tone of his voice and she knew what he meant. Harry meant to say they weren’t themselves right now and needed some comfort and closeness within each other to be there for the boys when they came home in a bit. And he was right.

Claire nodded, “That sounds good. Are you finishing up or can we go now?”

“Now is good.” Harry smiled. Him and Claire headed up to their bathroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before hopping into the cabin. Harry took the time in soothing Claire. He washed her hair and soaped her in, hugging her close to his chest and she allowed him to wrap her up and comfort her. 

She pushed up her toes to kiss him deeply, expressing her gratitude for his endless patience without using words. Because she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what to say to explain how he made her feel, or what he did for her. 

“Claire - wait.” Harry breathed when her hand closed around his semi hard length, gently pumping up and down. She moaned against his lips, “No, let me… i want to.” She reassured him. Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly and he leaned back against the tiled wall, swallowing, “I’m not trying to be a dick.” He defended his erection and Claire nodded in understanding. Harry swallowed again, “‘S just because I’m close to you.”

“I know. It’s okay.” She smiled slightly. Harry didn’t want to ruin the moment. He couldn’t help getting hard when he saw Claire naked with wet drops running down her smooth skin. He knew this wasn’t really the time or place and he hadn’t expected her to act upon it, but she did and she wanted to.

Harry usually got hard whenever they showered together. It didn’t mean at all that it always turned to this. His head thudded back with a small whimper when Claire sunk down to her knees, water cascading down her back as she took him in her mouth. Harry’s hands balled into fists as he panted out, “Shit - babe…” His hand involuntary found the back of her neck, giving a thankful squeeze when she sucked him off.

Claire took him deep, her tongue salaciously running over his shaft and feeling the veins pulsing against her hollowed-out cheeks. She hummed around him, revelling in the feeling of his heavy cock pushing in her throat as she fought her gag-reflex to deepthroat him. Harry whined out, taking a fistful of her hair as he arched slightly and pushed his hips forward to thrust into her mouth.

“Fuck,” He gasped, “fuck - fuck. C’mere - stop, c’mere.” He yanked her hair, making Claire yelp slightly as she popped off of him suddenly. She coughed slightly as Harry helped her up, supporting Claire who felt woozy on her legs.

“Can I?” Harry spoke against her lips, pushing her against the opposite wall while grabbing her thighs to lift her up. Claire hardly had time to nod as her legs locked around his hips and Harry slipped inside of her. He grunted, forehead dropping to her shoulder as he pressed his lips into her collarbone and Claire moaned at the feeling of him inside of her.

Her hand tightly grabbed his wet hair as Harry fucked into her. Slow yet sharp and deep. She loved it when he took her like this - affectionate and loving yet mindblowingly good. They were engulfed by steam, and Claire admired the bulging of Harry’s biceps as he seemingly effortlessly kept her lifted up.

“So good.” Claire squeaked when his tip brushed her g-spot and the coil in her tummy tightened. She brushed his hair away and they breathily kissed as Harry sped up a bit, “Please - cum…” He groaned, “I need you to cum.”

Claire nodded as she bucked her hips back, “Uh-h-huh, almost there.” She panted. Only a minute later, both were panting and spent. Harry’s softening cock pulsed between her walls as he kept her up for a bit until gently letting her down. He slipped out of her and Claire held his arms for a bit of balance before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and deeply kissed him.

“Love of my life.” She smiled against his lips and Harry chuckled, immediately feeling how much lighter the mood had become. Sex was important to them to feel close to one another. They had to pick their moments, which is why something practical - like showering or cooking - could turn into fucking in no time.

The found ways, knowing how detrimental it was to their relationship to feel the physical comfort of the other. Claire hummed as they kissed and Harry nuzzled his nose with hers while running his hands up and down her naked back, “Are you ovulating?” He whispered.

Claire bit her lip and shook her head, “No - uh… this was just for fun.”

“Right.” Harry chuckled, giving her ass a small pinch, “well, it was definitely fun.”

Four months now they had been trying. Actively. Not like before, not leaving it up to the universe, but really tracking her period and trying. Every month she took a pregnancy test and so far - every month it came back negative.

It was fine, for now. Their spirits weren’t broken down. So much was happening with Atlas and Evan too, that Claire didn’t necessarily mind. She somehow felt like she wouldn’t be able to feel joyous about a pregnancy with everything looming over her head.

And Claire didn’t know this, but it was also the reason Harry hadn’t proposed yet.

When he asked her to marry him, he wanted it to be just them. Him, Claire, Finn and Atlas. No Evan.

He soothed himself with the idea that they had time. They had so much fucking time to spend with one another. A lifetime. And perhaps it was nicer if the boys were a bit older, so they could really be a part of the wedding and give their blessing.

“My sweet,” Harry murmured with a smile on his lips, “I adore you.”

Claire giggled and the sound made Harry’s heart skip ten beats. She kissed his lips once more, “I adore you more. Just not your cum running down my leg. Scoot over a bit, I need the stream.” And playful Claire was back. Harry threw his head back in a laugh when she was back to her witty, sarcastic self.

He loved her like that. She was most herself like that. They waddled back a few steps until the water took care of Harry’s orgasm and then exited the shower.

“Wanna pick up the boys together?” Harry suggested. Claire puckered her lips, “You can go, I’ll get started on dinner. That way I won’t have to be in the kitchen too much tonight.”

Harry fought the amused smile on his lips and exhaled a chuckling breath, “Let’s do it the other way around. You pick them up, I’ll cook.”

“Hey, my cooking is not that bad.” 

“No, but mine is better.” Harry stuck out his tongue and Claire playfully swatted his chest, “Ass. I’ll see you in a bit.” She pushed up her toes for a quick kiss. Her hair was wet and laying down her back as she wore jeans and a hoodie. Snatching Harry’s keys off of the table, she unlocked the Tesla to pick up Finn and Atlas.

In the presence of both boys, Claire quickly forgot all about what today had been so far. Atlas and Finn were laughing and joking in the backseat, cracking Claire up at what they all said. They brought out the best in each other and it was incredible to see.

Much like Harry and Claire’s dynamic, Finn tamed Atlas a bit while Atlas brought out Finn’s - hidden - wild side. Finn was the calm and Atlas was the storm. Much like Harry being the calm and Claire being the storm.

“Claire bear, can you help me with my shoes?” Finn lisped a little and Claire fought the rolling of her eyes. She could hear Harry laughing from the kitchen and Claire crouched down to undo his laces, “Finnigan, I love it when you call me Claire bear except that I don’t.” She chuckled. Finn frowned in confusion and Claire’s heart melted at his expression, so she just quickly kissed his forehead, “Never mind. I love you.”

“I love you too, mama.”

Claire melted more. Finn was experimenting with different nicknames for her. Both Harry and Claire had made it clear to him that he was in no way obligated to call her mum. But Finn wanted to. Besides that, Harry also taught him the horrendous Claire bear nickname and she always silently gagged upon hearing it.

Harry thought it was absolutely hilarious.

“That’s my reward for blowing you in the shower?” She hushed the whisper while being with Harry in the kitchen, the boys in the living room. Harry stirred the food and bit his lip to fight his beaming grin. Cocking up an eyebrow, he dipped his head for a chaste kiss, “Your reward was an orgasm, you little brat.”

Claire childishly stuck out her tongue and went through the boys’ backpacks of the day and clearing out their lunchboxes.

Yet Claire dreaded the evening. She wanted to be transparent with Atlas about today and about his father, so while Harry tucked Finn in later that night, she sat on Atlas’ bed.

He was cuddled into his side as they read a book together and eventually Claire closed it, “Can I talk to you?” She ran her fingers through his shaggy blonde hair - which was darkening just a little bit as he aged.

Atlas looked up to her and nodded, “Yes.” Somehow by the tone of her voice and the way she asked him, he sensed what the topic would be.

Claire shifted a bit, nibbling her lip, “I saw your daddy today.”

Atlas’ expression dropped a bit and Claire continued, “You know I see him sometimes, right? In that big building? With the judge?”

“Who’s the judge again?”

“The judge is a very important person who makes very important decisions. Sometimes your daddy and I have to go see the judge. The judge asks us how you are and if you’re happy with mum and happy with dad.” Claire tried to explain.

Atlas nodded slowly, “And what do you say?”

“I tell her you’re happy here.” She shrugged before continuing to play with his hair, “Are you? Happy?”

“Yes.” Atlas smiled, cuddling further into Claire - who already got tears in her eyes. She swallowed thickly, “With me and Finn and daddy Harry?”

“Yes!” Atlas spoke with more enthusiasm and Claire sniffled once before cupping his cheek, “That’s all I want, bubby. You know I’d do everything to make you happy, right? I love you so much. More than anything or anyone.”

Atlas studied her face for a bit, “More than daddy Harry?”

“More than daddy Harry.” Claire nodded without missing a beat. Atlas didn’t seem particularly relieved or alarmed at her answer, but just nodded. Claire took a breath, “And then the judge asks the same question to your daddy. She asks daddy if you’re happy there.”

“And what does he say?” Atlas murmured. Claire kept the wobbling of her lip under control, “Daddy says you’re happy there.”

Atlas frowned, “I’m not.”

“I know.” She whispered. Atlas pressed his lips together, “How long do I still have to go?”

“As long as the judge tells us.” Claire explained and Atlas tilted his head to the side, “But how? I don’t know this juds.”

“Judge.” Claire softly corrected him and Atlas exhaled a breath, “Judge.” He tried to repeat, but it was a difficult word for him to pronounce. Claire’s heart shattered when she was once more reminded of Atlas’ young age. He was supposed to be young and free and careless. But he wasn’t. Instead, he knew his mum and dad were fighting and there were two groups of people who claimed to want the best for him. He knew of the judge. He was too young for this. He had seen too much, heard too much.

Atlas looked at her through big eyes, “How long do I still have to go, mummy?” He repeated in a watery voice, “Why can’t I just stay here with you and daddy Harry and Finn?” He clung to her and Claire hastily wiped her tears, “I know, bub. I know. I love you so much.” She repeated.

“I love you.” Atlas murmured, “I don’t want to go anymore. I don’t like it.”

“I know.” Claire’s voice cracked and she blinked rapidly to keep from crying too much. Pulling Atlas into her chest, her face scrunched up as she silently cried, out of sight for him. “You understand that I’m trying?” She whispered, “Me and daddy Harry are trying so hard for you, to keep you here and safe and happy. With us.”

“I understand.” Atlas nodded.

“Good boy.” Claire kissed the top of his head. She sniffled a few times before taking a breath, “So today daddy and I had to go back to see the judge. And the judge said she’s going to send someone here.”

Atlas didn’t respond, and Claire could imagine him frowning in confusion. She closed her eyes, “Someone is going to come here. A nice person, who just wants to talk to you a little bit. I won’t be there for that.” She gently explained, “They’ll want to sit with you and they’ll ask you a few questions. And you can tell them whatever you want, okay? There’s no need to be scared or to be nervous. They just want to know how you’re doing.”

It was silent for a moment before Atlas spoke, “When?”

“I don’t know yet.” Claire admitted, “It might be a while. Do you have any questions?”

Atlas flicked his eyes up, and Claire saw a range of emotions in them. “Can I sleep in the big bed tonight?” 

Claire raised her brows and clearly hesitated, “Y-You want to sleep in the big bed?” She clarified. Atlas quickly nodded, “Mhm. For when I have a nightmare.”

“Bub.” She whispered, rocking him back and forth a little, “But you’re a big boy, aren’t you? Big boys sleep in their own beds.” She tried but Atlas whined a bit and crawled closer into her. Claire felt a fresh wave of tears running down her cheeks and she cleared her throat, “Can you wait just a minute? I’m going to have a chat with daddy Harry first.” She whispered.

Atlas just nodded and cuddled his stuffed animal as Claire quickly turned around and rushed out of the room. She was barely in the hallway when she pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling the deep sob and the feeling of nausea. She could throw up all over again when imagined the fear running through her little boy.

Claire’s legs could hardly keep her up and she slid down the wall next to Atlas’ closed door. Just thinking of him in his bed, clutching his stuffed animal that Harry gave him because he craved comfort so much.

“Hey,” Harry whispered, worry apparent on his face when he hurried over to where Claire was. He just tucked Finn and closed his door after reading him a bedtime story. Harry’s hands cupped Claire’s cheeks, “Babe - what’s wrong?” He urgently whispered, attempting not to alert their boys.

“A-Atlas.” Claire sobbed, feeling the burning in her chest, “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“Oh - shh.” Harry crooned, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He slipped an arm around Claire’s waist and used his might to pull her up to a standing position. She clung to him and Harry smoothed his hand over her hair, “‘S okay, baby.” He shushed softly.

Claire sniffled, “He asked to sleep in our bed.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire nodded, “Mhm. It’s so bad, Harry.”

He stroked her hair again, “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Claire whimpered, “Not yet. W-Wanted to talk to you first.”

Harry exhaled, “Babe, if he’s begging to sleep with us… we should let him, right?”

“Mhm. I think so too. But I didn’t want to decide without you.”

Harry nodded, “It’s okay. I’ll go carry him to our bed.”

“Okay.” Claire nodded, wiping her eyes, “I’m gonna just freshen up a bit, don’t want Atlas to see me like this.” 

Harry cupped her cheeks and kissed her nose, “Alright. You go ahead, I’ll be right there with him.”

Claire nodded and they parted ways as Harry slowly opened up Atlas’ bedroom door. He sat in his bed like a small boy, clutching his stuffed giraffe that Harry gifted him. The sight was heartbreaking. Harry was slow as he walked up to him, “Hey, bubby. Mum says you’d like to sleep in our bed tonight?”

“Yeah.” Atlas nodded and Harry offered him a small smile, “Okay. Want me to carry you?”

Atlas just lifted up an arm, a silent invitation for Harry to break his back and pick up the seven year-old. Atlas was way too big to be picked up like this, but Harry humored him. He patted his back as he turned down the lights in Atlas’ room and carried him through the hall. He made a quick stop at Finn’s door - not wanting him to feel left out.

Finn wasn’t asleep yet and blinked his eyes open as Harry stood in the doorway, “Hi, bud. Sleepover tonight?” He questioned. Finn frowned, “But it’s not a Friday or Saturday.”

“I know.” Harry nodded, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But Atlas is sleeping in the big bed tonight.”

Atlas and Finn shared a look, and Finn nodded, grabbing his own baby blanket before he followed behind Harry and Atlas. Harry was gentle when he laid Atlas down - mostly on Claire’s side. He immediately sunk into the pillow she usually rested on and Finn was exceptionally gentle too. 

“They’re both in bed.” Harry murmured as he joined Claire in the bathroom. She was blowing her nose and doing some skincare, nodding, “Finn too?”

“Mhm.” Harry grabbed his toothbrush while looking at Claire in the mirror. She was lost in thought and he decided to leave it at that for tonight.

The family of four all fell asleep in the same bed, with Harry and Claire each cuddling up to their sons to provide them the comfort they apparently craved. 

***

Once May rolled in, Claire eventually got the letter. Her heart slammed in her throat when she recognized the letters from court, and she exhaled a slight sigh of relief when it turned out to just be her invitation to go talk to the social worker in regards to the social inquiry.

Claire called immediately to lock in an appointment. The social worker turned out to be a woman named Nancy. She sounded friendly and warm on the phone, immediately soothing Claire’s worries a little bit. Nancy informed her that in that first talk, it was supposed to be just Claire. She felt a bit deflated that she wasn’t allowed to bring Harry - but also understood.

This social inquiry was mostly between her and Evan, surrounding Atlas. They were his biological parents. Harry was a big part of his life, and Nancy assured Claire that she’d eventually also include Harry and talk to him, as she would with Otis and perhaps Finn if he wanted to.

Claire felt relieved that she could go in a few days later, and she gave herself a peptalk in the mirror before driving down to the courthouse to meet with Nancy.

Claire had to admit she was between jobs and had a very free schedule. Ever since being with Harry, she gave up her Burger King-job and did nothing for a while but adapt to their new reality. With the absence of rent and the help of Harry, there were no financial worries for the first time in her life.

Yet Claire grew bored and was on the lookout for something. Maybe something administrative, she wasn’t sure yet. She helped Harry sometimes with his accounting and answered his emails or his calls from time to time. Sometimes she wondered how she did it all those years, being a single parent to Atlas and doing a fulltime job and the household. 

Sometimes her days were simply filled doing laundry, going grocery shopping and cleaning the house. Until Evan called her a gold digger and it stung. And she hoped it wouldn’t be used against her in court.

“Ms. Carter?” A woman smiled at her as Claire sat waiting in one of the chairs. She quickly got up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before offering her hand, “Yes, I’m Claire.” She breathed.

“Nancy.” The woman nodded, “Nice to meet you. Not too much traffic coming here?” They walked the long hallways together and Claire shook her head, “No, it was okay.”

Nancy smiled, “It’s just through here. You can sit wherever you’d like.”

Claire glanced around the room, which was clearly decorated for conversations with children. It had a small, low table in the corner with kid’s chairs, a ton of toys and stuffed animals and lots of children’s books.

“This is our kid’s space.” Nancy explained, “When we talk to kids, it’s in this room. I booked it for our conversation too because it was the only available room.”

Claire slowly nodded, “I see.” Her lips then curled up into a small smile, “Atlas has this book too.” She pointed to one.

“Really?” Nancy smiled, “It’s usually a big hit.”

“Mhm. He really likes it.” She then shrugged off her coat and took a seat in one of the chairs, fiddling with her fingers.

“Are you nervous?” Nancy checked, a friendly smile on her face. Claire exhaled, “Honestly, yes. A little bit. It’s all quite new and I’m not sure what to expect.”

“That’s understandable.” Nancy nodded, “So I’m a social worker, and I work for the family justice court.” She began, “Sometimes the judge asks us to do a social inquiry in certain cases, when it’s too difficult to make a decision and the judge isn’t sure what’s left or right anymore. That’s where we come in. We take a few steps with both mum and dad, and I’d also like to see Atlas once or twice. We contact the school and such to get a broad view on who Atlas is as a child, mostly in relation to his parents, so that’s you and Evan. And the custody arrangement.”

Claire’s chest clenched a bit and she swallowed before nodding, “So… you decide what happens to Atlas then?”

“I don’t.” Nancy shook her head, “I take these steps and I basically make the puzzle surrounding Atlas. I talk to him and also pull information from literature and investigation, knowing what works best for children his age and what their needs are. Then I write a report to the judge, but the final decision is always with the judge.”

“Right.” Claire slowly nodded.

Nancy shot her a smile, “I’d also like to do a house visit, just to see what Atlas’ environment is. I do these same steps with dad.” She explained.

“Okay.” Claire breathed and Nancy nodded, “So basically what I’ll do with you - and the father - is that we… talk. Mostly about Atlas and how we can get out of the current rut and move forward towards something that best fits him.”

“That’s all I want.” Claire swallowed, nodding, “It’s been so…” She exhaled, “it’s been such a nightmare.” She already felt the lump in her throat and swallowed thickly, “Sorry, I really don’t mean to cry after only a minute.”

“That’s okay.” Nancy encouraged her, “I understand that this is an emotional time. You try to do what’s best for your little boy, I’m sure.”

Claire nodded fiercely, “I-I do. I definitely do.”

“Are you okay with us starting from the beginning? How did you and Evan meet, how long were you together and such?”

And so Claire took a breath and told her story. Not too many details, because Nancy also didn’t ask for those. Just in broad lines how she and Evan met, how they got together, how their relationship went - including all the ups and downs. How Claire got pregnant and told him, and how horrifying that pregnancy was without his support and with her dependance on drugs.

How she eventually got away and how the terrors began. How he hit her, stalked her, threatened her and made her life a living hell for the past seven years.

Claire lit up once Nancy asked her about Atlas. Claire used hand-gestures to describe what kind of child Atlas is and how he’s wild and adventurous, but also so snuggly. She explained how she felt him regress whenever he was around Evan, and how he had nightmares and asked to sleep in her bed.

Nancy nodded along and took notes of everything Claire explained. The conversation turned towards Harry and Finn and their blended family. Claire smiled when she spoke of the bond Harry and Atlas had, and how Nancy would certainly see that if she came to visit them at the house. 

“Have you ever considered taking Atlas to therapy?” Nancy questioned curiously. Claire nibbled her lip and slowly shook her head, “I actually haven’t. I mean… I’m not sure if he’d benefit from it. Isn’t he too young?”

“From what you explained, he sounds like a bright young man.” Nancy smiled, “And it’d be a child therapist, of course. Someone who’s trained to work with children, and maybe even specifically surrounding the topic of divorce and living in two seperate houses. Is he a creative kid?”

“Like drawing and stuff?” Claire questioned, “Not really. He is a good talker though. He’s… inquisitive, I’d say. He asks me a lot and often wants Harry to explain things very in depth.”

Nancy nodded, “Did you tell him what you were doing today?”

“No.” Claire shook her head. When I came back from court last time, I explained to him what was going to happen. He asked a few questions and he knows you will come to the house to talk to him. He’s not too nervous, he says. But… well - that night, he asked to sleep in our bed.”

Nancy’s eyes turned sympathetic and Claire lowered her gaze. Silence fell over the room a little bit and Claire eventually took a breath, “I just don’t understand why he keeps getting chances.” She murmured, “He’s disappointed Atlas so many times. He’s never been there for him, or for us. I did it all by myself. I take full responsibility for the way Atlas is today, because Evan didn’t raise him. I-I just don’t get how many mistakes he has to make, or how bad it has to be for something to finally be done.” She ended while shrugging her shoulders.

“I’ve been in hospital a handful of times because of him, in the year and a half alone. Atlas saw it all. That’s… that’s not okay for a seven year old.”

“It’s not.” Nancy agreed.

After nearly two hours, they wrapped it up. Nancy would be in touch after she also managed to speak to Evan to hear his side of the story. Claire had pressed her lips together to keep herself from talking, because she was about to warn Nancy that all he’d say are lies. But of course, Nancy was supposed to be neutral and she couldn’t pick sides - so Claire just kept her mouth shut.

Going home, she sat thinking in the car. Thinking of Atlas, and thinking of the life choices she made. Losing her family and her parent’s support because she was with Evan. She hated him, and she regretted him every single day of her life.

But then she looked at Atlas, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. She’d take the pain times ten if it meant making him happy and carefree. Claire was always overcome with such a pure love, one that she felt like she could hardly explain. She was glad that Harry understood, because he felt the same towards Finn.

And sometimes, Claire took a little step back to realize how fucking lucky she was.

And she didn’t realize it yet, but life was about to get a little luckier.

***

Harry whistled once he locked the car.

His sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose and he just couldn’t wait to get inside and change into something more comfortable. Even if it was May, it was insanely warm. He wore slacks for this business meeting with the headhunters of his latest project, but his slacks were as uncomfortable as they could be.

“Babe?” He called out once he opened up the front door. Harry was met with silence but glanced down, seeing the shoes strewn by the front door with the absence of Claire’s favourite slippers.

She only wore them at home, and it was a sign to him that she was home.

He kept whistling the same tune softly, kicking off his own dress shoes before putting his briefcase down on the dining table. Peaking into the kitchen, his face lit up when he saw Claire at the stove.

Her head flicked to the side, a bright smile immediately appearing on her face, “Hey!” She excitedly smiled, and Harry was drawn to her like a magnet. His hands found her hips as he kissed her, humming. The scent of Claire’s famous pancakes entered his nose and he melted into a puddle of comfort.

He was home.

“How was your meeting?” Claire questioned, hair up in a lazy ponytail and wearing one of Harry’s aprons that said chef Styles at the front, embroidered in elegant gold. Harry dipped his finger in the pancake batter, humming, “Quite good. They like my ideas so far. They did want me to rethink the columns though.”

“No, really?! We sat hours thinking about those god damn columns.” Claire complained and Harry chuckled, licking off his finger, “I know. But hey, they pay my bills so… I’ll fuckin’ rethink their columns.”

Claire chuckled at Harry’s cursing - something he really only did when he was done with someone’s shit or when the kids weren’t home.

Her heart hammered in her chest when she kept her back to him, clearing her throat, “Hey - uh… can you get me a spoon?”

“Spoon.” Harry nodded, pushing himself off the counter, “Sure.”

He whistled again, yet it abruptly stopped when he opened up the cutlery drawer.

He saw no spoons, forks or knives. The drawer had been cleared out and instead Harry saw a little dark green romper in the drawer. And a pregnancy test next to it.

“Wh-” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp, tears blurring his eyes when he felt like his heart stopped. His legs wobbled when he felt the sharp rush to his head. He briskly turned around, and Claire’s smile grew when she saw the shock written all over his face.

She sheepishly leaned against the counter behind her, the stove turned off in a break from making pancakes.

“Surprise.” She whispered with a smile.

Harry panted out, as if he had just ran a marathon, “Y-You’re pregnant?” His voice cracked.

“Yes.” Claire giggled and Harry threw his head back, pumping his fists, “You’re pregnant!” He shouted.

“Harry!” Claire giggled as he ran up to her and scooped her up. Claire’s ponytail flew around as he spun her, hands underneath her thighs and smiling into her neck. Harry then sat her down on the countertop, breathing heavily as his eyes watered and his cheeks hurt from smiling, “Please, tell me I’m not dreaming.”

Claire lovingly cupped his cheeks, “You’re not dreaming, my love.” She smiled, “We’re having a baby.”

“Shit.” Harry’s voice broke as he buried his face into her neck, hugging her tightly to his chest. Claire soothed him, understanding the range of emotions running through Harry. They had been wanting this for quite some time.

She played with the hair in the nape of his neck as Harry tried to come to terms with the new information.

He pulled back with watery eyes and Claire giggled, “You’re crying.” She teased and he huffed out a chuckle, “Shut up.” He grabbed the back of her neck to bring her in for a deep kiss. They smiled into one another as Harry touched Claire in every way he could. 

“I’m so happy.” He whispered, “You make me so happy. You make me so happy.” He repeated the words, kissing around Claire’s face until she shook with giggles and Harry could hardly breathe anymore.

“How long?” He breathed. Claire nibbled her lip, “Just a few weeks. I’m not sure. I took a few tests today, they all came back positive. I-I couldn’t wait to tell you.” She spoke. She realized they still weren’t a billion percent sure. They hadn’t been to the doctor’s and Claire hadn’t gotten any blood work done. But the six tests she peed on all told her the same answer.

A very clear line that indicated she was pregnant. No more than a couple of weeks.

“I love you.” Harry murmured, “So much. You’re giving me my dream.” He cried more and Claire giggled, making slight fun of him as Harry hid in her neck and held her tightly. Claire couldn’t wipe the bright smile off of her face.

She had been throwing up a few times lately. Claire thought it was stress - but much like every month she decided to take a pregnancy test today. She didn’t even expect it to come out positive. But then there it was.

And now they were here. On cloud nine.

“D-Do we tell the boys?” Harry sniffled, wiping underneath his eyes once he unhooked himself from Claire. She couldn’t even respond before he deeply kissed her. Claire leaned back into the wall as Harry slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, shoving every single emotion he felt into the kiss to leave her dizzy and breathless.

“H-” She tried but he groaned, kissing her again, “I want you.” He panted.

Claire raised her brows, “Wh- now?” She asked in shock. Harry nodded eagerly, “Mhm. We’ve got time right?” He already dragged her to the edge of the countertop to pick her up underneath her thighs again.

“Uh - yeah, like an hour - Harry, wait.” Claire giggled when he carried her up the stairs, the apron still on her body. Claire smiled while Harry kicked open the door of their bedroom and then used his foot to close it again.

Even though he couldn’t wait to make her his and celebrate this moment by being so close to her, he was gentle when laying her down. Claire bit her lip to fight her smile as he seemingly tried to take it slow and easy, but the second he was on top of her and they met in a searing kiss - that all flew out the window.

The apron landed on the floor, quickly followed by their other clothes. Claire could hardly keep up with his pace but every thought she ever had left her brain when she felt his tongue between her thighs.

“Oh…” Claire exhaled, melting into the bedding and tipping her head back with a soft gasp when Harry licked into her. His fingers kept her open and he played with her clit like only he could, keeping his eyes closed as he revelled in her taste.

Claire’s eyes rolled back when he sucked on her, “Harry…” She moaned, “oh my god.” Her hand found his curls, pulling him closer into her as she fought to keep her lips still. Harry’s fingers joined, sinking inside her easily and dragging up her front wall until Claire shuddered and orgasmed.

But if she thought that was the end of it, she was deeply mistaken. After four orgasms total, Claire could hardly keep her eyes open. She laid spent on the bedding with Harry slotted in between her legs, dick inside of her.

He had her in every position imaginable, from rolling her on her tummy and pulling her hips up to take her from behind, to assisting her in riding him and then slipping inside her as they spooned - he always preferred to end in missionary.

Harry hunched over her, breathing into her neck and inhaling her scent as Claire’s pussy pulsed around his aching cock, milking him of everything he could offer her. His thighs trembled as they each came down from their orgasm, and Claire felt tingly and exhausted.

“Sweet girl.” Harry crooned in her ear, “I love you so much.”

Claire hummed and tiredly yawned, “Jesus,” she hummed in satisfaction, “I should get pregnant more often.”

Harry bit his lip and sharply thrusted, his half hard dick scooting up inside of Claire to make her whimper. He squeezed their laced-together fingers, “Any complaints?” He teased and she quickly shook her head, “N-Nope. None at all.”

“Thought so.” He chuckled.

“I love you, baby daddy.” Claire lazily smiled and Harry smiled into her neck, “I still can’t believe we’re finally having a baby.” He lifted up a bit to gaze down at her, and Claire had her eyes closed, softly smiling, “Me neither.” She murmured.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Harry stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “The entire thing is just gonna be amazing. Watching you grow a beautiful bump, going to appointments together, being there with you for birth, watch our boys become big brothers.” He listed and Claire forced her eyes open to see Harry with a dreamy look on his face.

“I can’t wait to tell them.” She smiled and Harry chuckled, “They’re going to be over the moon. Should we - uh… wait until we’ve seen a doctor?”

Claire stifled a yawn, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll call the doctor in a minute.”

“You take a nap first, babe. I’ll pick up the kids.” He offered, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Claire didn’t protest and let Harry clean her up a bit. She giggled when he ducked underneath the sheets to sponge kisses to her tummy and whisper things to a very tiny baby that she couldn’t understand. Claire felt lighter than she had in a long time.

She took a nap and later came down to her entire world sitting at the dining table. Atlas excitedly told her about his day and Finn climbed up on Claire’s thighs to show her some of his spelling homework. 

It was about a week later that Nancy came around to talk to Atlas. Claire was a bit of a nervous wreck, keeping herself busy in the kitchen as Atlas sat in his bedroom with Nancy. They hadn’t talked about it much, but Claire tried to reassure Atlas that he could say whatever he wanted and that she was a nice woman.

A small hour later, Nancy came back down the stairs and offered Claire a smile, “You have a bright boy, Claire.” She congratulated her and Claire smiled while exhaling a sigh, “Thank you. Did everything go okay?”

“It did.” She nodded, “I took some notes and I asked him if he’s okay with me sharing whatever he said with you. He said it’s fine, so I’ll write it all in my report and go through it with you the next time we see each other.”

Claire nodded, “Okay. And - uh… is there anything I can do for him right now? Was it… emotional? Does he need something?”

Nancy’s mouth curled up into a small smile and she shook her head, “It wasn’t a very emotional talk. He was nice and polite and we played a little game. He showed me his room and his toys - he’s very proud of that giraffe.” She smiled and Claire chuckled, “Yeah, he is.”

“He said it was a gift from daddy Harry.”

Claire’s insides warmed and she sniffled once, nodding, “Mhm. He gave it to him for his birthday last year.”

“That’s sweet.” Nancy then briefly touched Claire’s arm in comfort, “You don’t have to do anything special for him tonight, Ms. Carter. Atlas is very emotionally mature and I’m sure he’ll show signs or tell you when he feels in distress.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Claire exhaled before she let Nancy out.

And in the week that passed, Claire and Harry got the confirmation from the doctor that she was, in fact, pregnant. Just five weeks. But they couldn’t even keep it in. Harry had already called his parents and Claire had tried with all her might to not let anything slip to Atlas and Finn. They hadn’t noticed anything about her this week, but they’d soon notice she skipped out on different foods or she’d get sick more often, or she’d grow a bump.

Harry was by far most excited about that. The baby was a far dream for now, his current dream was seeing Claire with a beautiful bump. 

He touched her stomach all the time even if there was nothing there yet, and he whispered to the baby on most evenings while she was dozing off. It was adorable to see him, and he cried tears of joy more often in the last week than Claire had seen from him in all the time she knew him.

But tonight, they decided they were going to tell the boys.

And Claire felt excited, but also a little nervous. Harry was at another meeting and Claire would pick up Finn this Friday evening. Atlas stayed home due to Nancy coming around.

Claire wore a flowy top and had sunnies on her nose as she waited by the school gate, making the obligatory small talk with Dolores - who mostly asked questions about Harry.

“So, Atlas,” She leaned down to smile brightly at him. He forced a little smile back and Claire fought her giggle as Dolores took a breath, “how come you weren’t in school today? Are you feeling sick?” She raised her hand to place it on his forehead and Atlas backed away, into Claire’s side a little.

It made her heart shatter. Of course she always taught Atlas to not let strangers touch him without him giving consent, but it also went to show that he was scared of a raised hand. She stroked her fingers through his hair and cleared her throat, “No, he wasn’t sick. We just had something to do so we’re just picking up Finn now.”

“Something to do, hm?” Dolores smiled, “Something fun? If it makes you skip out on school?”

Claire rolled her eyes and then heard the bell ringing. Atlas jumped up to greet Finn by the gate and Claire smoothed her hands over her top, “Look, Dolores, please stop putting your nose all up in my business. If I don’t give details, it’s because it’s private.” She sternly spoke.

Dolores’ lips turned into a tight line and she shot Claire a fake smile, “Noted. Have a good weekend.”

“You too.” Claire sighed before her face lit up, “Finn!” She squeaked, the boy eagerly running up to her for a hug, “Hi, Claire bear.” He mumbled and she couldn’t even find it in herself to scold him for it today.

She took his backpack to put in the back of the car, “Are you excited for the weekend?” Claire asked as both boys got in the backseat.

“Yes!” They simultaneously shouted out, making Claire smile. She looked at Finn and Atlas playfully giggling through the rear-view mirror.

“How did it go today?” Finn questioned softly. One glance in the mirror told Claire that his question was directed towards Atlas. She nodded to herself, liking how Finn was there for emotional support for Atlas. They trusted each other through and through and proudly named one another their brother. And besides that, they were best friends.

Atlas shrugged, “It was okay. The lady was nice. She had funny glasses.”

“Really?” Finn smiled and Atlas eagerly nodded, “Mhm. They went like this.” He used his fingers to motion for a cat-eye shaped pair of glasses and Claire chuckled under her breath as Finn gasped in surprise, “Wow! Is she coming back? I wanna see!”

Atlas looked at Claire and she pressed her lips together, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so, honestly. She said you did so good. It might be enough to see you just the one time.”

Atlas proudly beamed at himself and Finn patted his hand, “Hear that? She said you did good!”

“I just answered her questions.” Atlas downplayed. Finn shifted a little, “What kind of questions?”

“About mummy and daddy. And you too. And daddy Harry.” Atlas spoke. Finn nodded as he listened intently. There was a lot of hurt in the car. Some people might find it admirable that Evan at least tried to fight for Atlas. For Finn, it was just Harry. Astrid didn’t even try to see him or know him.

Claire would never understand that choice, but on the other hand it did lead her to her Harry and a lifetime of happiness. Claire slipped her hand to the backseat to squeeze Finn’s calf playfully, “Hey, you know what we’re having for dinner tonight? It was your week to pick.”

Finn gasped excitedly, “Did daddy make enchiladas?!”

He mispronounced the word completely, making Claire crack up but she nodded, “Mhm, he made enchiladas.”

“Yay!” Finn squealed as Claire pulled up on the driveway, her smile growing when she saw Harry’s car parked there too.

“Hi, my three loves.” Harry greeted them playfully with open arms, catching one boy in each as they laughed and wrestled for a bit. He held Finn back just a tad when Claire approached, “Not too rough around mum, Finn.” He warned softly. Finn didn’t think much of it and Harry slipped an arm around Claire’s form, his other hand resting low on her tummy. 

Pulling her in for a long kiss, he contently hummed against her lips, “How was today?” He whispered.

“Good.” Claire smiled, “Atlas did good. Nancy is going to give us the full report at the end but she said he was so polite and sweet. So… yeah. And Atlas seems fine so far.” She shrugged, “He hasn’t said anything. Spoke about it to Finn a bit in the car.”

“That’s great.” Harry nodded, “And you? Not too rough this morning?”

“Just some sickness.” Claire shrugged, “But I didn’t throw up.”

Harry helped her put down her bag, “Did you get sick a lot when pregnant with Atlas?”

Claire swallowed thickly as she avoided his gaze, “To be honest, I - uh… I can’t really remember.”

Harry caught on and softly squeezed her hip, “‘S okay. Did you still want to tell them tonight?”

She bit her lip with a smile, “Yeah, I think so. Hey, how was the meeting?”

“Good! I pitched the idea for the new columns and they’re on board.” He shrugged, “So just need to order in the materials now.”

Claire patted his ass, “Good job, daddy.”

He huffed out, shaking his head in disbelief, “Brat.”

“What?” Claire innocently shrugged while taking a glass from the cupboard, “Just calling you by your rightful name.”

He walked up to her with a small smirk, grabbing her throat but not alarming Claire in the slightest. Harry affectionatelly rubbed his nose with hers, “I’m gonna get you back tonight, you know that, right?”

“Counting on it.” She whispered back, pecking his lips in a chaste kiss.

Harry felt a blush on his cheeks when he watched the way she walked away from him, sultrily swaying her hips. He felt so in love he didn’t even know what do with himself. No day with Claire was ever dull.

It was after dinner, when everyone was heading to the couch for a movie, that Claire nervously fiddled her fingers. Finn and Atlas sat waiting with big round eyes, “What’s the surprise?” Atlas frowned in confusion.

“We got something for the both of you.” Harry came walking up with two little bags. Claire forced a smile, knowing it was the corniest gift ever and she had absolutely no say in it. But Harry had a vision in telling the boys, and this was it.

Finn frowned too, “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“It’s not.” Harry chuckled, handing both boys a gift bag but holding up his finger, “It’s very important that you open it together and that you very carefully read what’s on it before asking any questions, okay?”

The boys eagerly nodded yet Finn pouted, “Read?” He repeated, “More reading? I thought school was done.”

Claire sputtered out a laugh at his sarcasm and even Harry found himself amused, knowing that was 100% Claire’s influence rubbing off on him. He shot Finn a look, “Just open it, bub.”

Atlas’ tongue poked out in concentration as he tried to open the ribbon and Harry and Claire shared a look before he took her hand in his and gave a squeeze. 

“Slow down, Finn.” Harry softly chuckled, alerting him to wait for Atlas a bit. Eventually both boys got to opening up the bag and Claire held her breath, keeping her eyes on Atlas solemnly as he frowned in confusion, pulling out the shirt in his size and he held it open.

“World’s…” Finn struggled a bit to read the words and Harry clenched his jaw, his surprise not really going how he wanted.

“... best big brother.” Atlas finished, tilting his head to the side. Claire felt tears in her eyes this time as Atlas slowly lowered the shirt with a frown of confusion on his face. He blinked at Claire once before dropping his eyes to her stomach, and Claire’s pulse skyrocketed.

Harry cleared his throat softly, “You’re going to be big brothers. Mum and dad are… uh - having a baby.” He spoke almost nervously.

Finn’s brows raised as his jaw dropped, “A new little bub?” He gasped.

“A new little bub.” Harry chuckled in a nod.

“Baby?” Claire checked, waiting for Atlas’ reaction. He still seemed dumbfounded before he flicked his eyes between Harry and Claire, “We’re getting a little brother?”

“O-Or a sister.” Claire stuttered. Atlas immediately pouted at that, making Harry throw his head back in a laugh.

“Or a brother.” Claire quickly smiled.

Atlas got up his feet and ran up to her. Claire let go of Harry’s hand to catch Atlas, wrapping her arms around his body as he pressed his face to her neck, “Mummy, I’m so happy.” He murmured.

“Oh, thank god.” Claire sighed out, and Harry rubbed his hand over Atlas’ back with a smile. 

“How long do we have to wait?!” Finn squealed, joining in on the group hug. Claire sniffled as Harry laughed, “About eight months, buddy. So… around February of next year.”

“That’s long.” Atlas pulled back with a pout, “I’ll be eight by then.”

“You will be.” Claire cupped his cheek lovingly, “You’ll both be.”

Atlas went on to hug Harry as FInn cuddled into Claire, “I love you, mum.” He whispered and Claire cried some more, kissing his cheek repeatedly, “I love you too, angel boy.”

“Now you’re the one crying.” Harry teased as he squeezed the back of Claire’s neck. She breathed out a huffing chuckle, “I’m pregnant, I’m allowed.”

“Yeah, you are.” He smiled.

***

“And then Atlas said that he gets along really well with Finn.” Nancy smiled.

Harry’s hand was on Claire’s thigh and she toyed with his fingers as they sat in Nancy’s office together. Today was their second appointment with Nancy, and basically their last. The next time they saw one another would be right before court, when she would hand out the final reports before their hearing.

Harry smiled at the words, “They do get along really well.”

“Mhm.” Claire agreed, “It’s sweet to see.”

“Atlas said so. He said Finn is his best friend.” She put the papers down, “Overall, Ms. Carter and Mr. Styles, I got to know Atlas as a very respectful and wise young man.”

Claire’s heart warmed and Nancy continued, “It was clear to me that he was genuine and honest, and his truth is that he doesn’t necessarily want any contact with his biological father. He doesn’t miss him when he’s not there and he doesn’t feel too comfortable in the house either.” Nancy then turned around a few of the papers, “I asked Atlas to draw. Both his houses.”

Claire leaned forward as Harry squinted a bit, seeing the stick figures and houses drawn. Nancy pointed to one, “This is where he drew your house. He drew this one first. He went for oranges and yellow-tones for the house itself and drew you both with precision, including color of your hair.”

Claire stared at the drawn version of herself and Nancy tapped her finger on Claire’s stick figure, “He drew you with flowers on your dress.”

“He loves that dress.” Claire smiled softly and Harry squeezed her leg.

“He drew a lot of flowers and hearts around the house itself too. And he drew clouds in his room.” Nancy ran her finger in a circle over where Atlas drew his room, “I asked him why, and he said it means dreams and comfort.”

Claire’s lip wobbled as she forced a smile. Her sweet boy.

Nancy softly cleared her throat, “Then I asked him to draw his father’s house.” Nancy grabbed another paper, and Claire and Harry’s faces immediately fell.

“He used only… grey for this one. No decorations,” Nancy explained, “no colours, no flowers, no… clouds.” She showed the house Atlas drew, “It was also noticeable how in your house, he drew himself as part of the family. When drawing his father’s house, he drew just his father. And he’s not smiling either.”

Claire and Harry didn’t respond much, just stared at the drawings. Nancy put the papers back and clasped her fingers together, “Me and Atlas played a little game after. With cards that have questions on them. I asked him what he likes about mum’s house, and he said he likes it because you’re there. He feels safe and warm, and he said daddy Harry is a very good cook.”

Harry’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled, almost blushing. Nancy smiled along, “I asked him the same about his father, and he… he didn’t have much to say. He said it’s quite bland. They don’t do much besides watch TV. And he misses swim practice every other week, and he likes to swim.”

“In short,” Nancy breathed, “Atlas doesn’t seem to have much connection to his dad. You’ll read it in the final report, but I of course had all these conversations with the father as well. Just like I asked you, I asked him to describe his son. He… he didn’t say much.” Nancy shrugged.

Claire huffed. It didn’t necessarily surprise her that Evan couldn’t describe Atlas. He wasn’t an attentive person in general and he didn’t know much about Atlas. He didn’t ask things either. Nancy cleared her throat, “For example, he couldn’t tell me Atlas’ favorite color, or his favorite subject in school, or his favorite toy or game.”

“So… I mean, these things are telling, right? Atlas is too young to be heard by the judge, but he literally told you he doesn’t want to see Evan anymore. That means something, right?” Harry questioned.

Nancy nodded, “It does. Of course… a family judge will always try to include both biological parents in the life of a child. Especially a child that can’t make that decision for himself. Atlas is young. Chances are that the judge will give Evan another chance.”

Claire frowned, “Another chance? He’s gotten billions of chances.”

“I’m also allowed to state my advice to the judge. It’s not binding, in the sense that I can’t make the decision but I can steer in a certain direction,” Nancy explained, “and I will definitely advise for an ending of contact between Atlas and Evan.”

Harry and Claire exhaled a sigh of relief and nodded to themselves, “Thank you.” Claire spoke.

And low and behold, a few weeks later, Claire and Harry went back to court to face Evan and hear the judge. Claire was a nervous wreck, and Harry constantly stroked his hand over her tummy. She was now almost three months pregnant and when wearing something extremely tight, the tiniest of bumps showed.

Claire was sure Harry imagined the bump and she had just been slacking with working out since the pregnancy, but Harry was convinced it was there. And he loved on her tiny bump like nothing else.

Today, it was concealed. 

Claire wore a sundress as July approached. Harry’s mum was at the house to look after the boys for today, and tomorrow they were heading to camp for a week so Harry and Claire had some time to themselves as well.

To either cry about what was said today, or to celebrate it.

Timothy stood behind them, explaining to the judge what he had read in the social inquiry. Evan looked pissed as fuck because Nancy actually did advise for the contact between him and Atlas to be broken for the time being. Nancy didn’t advise this forever, and the judge repeated how a custody arrangement was something dynamic. Atlas would age and his needs would change, but Claire could only hope that from now on, they’d always respect his decisions and his wishes.

Timothy repeated Nancy’s words, saying that Atlas clearly didn’t have a connection with Evan and that he didn’t ask for it. Evan’s judge argued that Atlas was young and maybe didn’t exactly know what he wanted.

The judge cleared her throat and Harry and Claire held their breaths as she spoke out that Atlas and Evan were not to have contact. Almost a restraining order, so to say. It’d be under evaluation for at least six months, after which there’d probably be a new social inquiry to see how things were.

Evan’s lawyer did get the judge to agree that someone other than Nancy was to conduct the next social inquiry. Claire rolled her eyes at that.

She refused to look at Evan, not even when she felt his gaze burning on the side of her face. When he could clearly see the way Harry gently cradled Claire’s barely there bump. He couldn’t keep his hands off, especially when needing comfort or when wanting to comfort Claire.

“Oh, thank god.” Claire sighed as she turned to Harry, immediately wrapping her arms around him when the decision was final. Atlas was theirs, and he’d never have to go see his dad again unless he wanted to. 

Harry exhaled in relief as he kissed the side of Claire’s neck, “You did it.” He whispered, “‘M so proud of you.”

“We did it.” Claire corrected him, pulling back to cup his cheek and plant a kiss to his lips. She felt like a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. And Harry’s too.

His eyes looked light and energized when he smiled at her, love radiating from him, “Let’s go home to our boys.” He squeezed her fingers as the pair left the courtroom.

That night, the family of four celebrated. Harry’s mum stayed over too, occupying herself with the kids a little while Claire assisted Harry in the kitchen for dinner. She cupped her hand underneath the dripping spoon he let her get a taste off and she hummed, nodding before she licked her lip, “It’s so good, H.”

“Yeah? Does it need anything more?” Harry checked and Claire shook her head, hopping on the countertop, “No, it’s perfect. I don’t understand how you do that.”

Harry chuckled, “What? Make tomato-sauce? It’s so easy.”

“Well, if it’s so easy, I’d be able to do it.” Claire muttered under her breath. Harry walked over to her, splitting her knees as he stood in between them, “Hey,” he chuckled with a slightly teasing tone, “we balance each other out, hm? I’m good at the cooking, you’re good at other stuff.”

She cocked up an eyebrow, “Like what?”

Harry opened his lips and Claire shot him a challenging look, “I swear, if you say cleaning…” She held up a warning finger and Harry laughed before pretending to bite it. He leaned in to press a deep kiss to her lips, “No, m’love. Other things.” His hands slipped up her dress to feel her bare thighs, “So good at so many other things.” He whispered against her lips before Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they were pulled into a deep make-out session.

Tongues tangled together as the food sputtered on the stove. Harry softly groaned as he nipped below her ear, “Can’t wait to fuck you in this kitchen every day next week.”

She breathed out a chuckle, running her fingers through his hair, “Trust me, me neither.” They both loved their boys so incredibly much, but a week with just the two of them sounded incredible. No responsibilities.

“Won’t be able to bend you over though.” Harry murmured, hand slipping to the bulging in her tummy as he gently stroked his fingers over her skin. Claire puffed out a breath, “We’ll do it on the bed then.” She panted, “You can bend me over all you want.”

He chuckled, “Dirty.” His hips rutted forward as they teased each other in the kitchen. The tip of his tongue flicked her bottom lip and Claire fought her shudder as Harry had her in the palm of his hand. 

They were in the exact same position just twenty-four hours later. Only now it was just the two of them in the house. And now, Claire’s dress was pulled up over her hips and the straps of her shoulders were tugged down to expose her tits. Harry panted into her mouth as he thrusted inside of her, filling her deep with each thrust.

“Fuck - y’feel so good.” Harry moaned, lifting her thigh a little higher around his hip to get the deeper angle. Claire’s head thudded back into the cabinet, her lips open in laboured breaths while Harry stared at the bounce in her tits from the rhythm he had set.

After sex in the kitchen, they were in a teasing and playful mood. Harry chased Claire through the house for a bit until they ate more of Harry’s heavenly cooking with a candle dancing between them.

“C’mon, let’s go for a walk.” Harry offered Claire his hand and she sighed out, fixing her hair in the clip a little after cleaning up their dishes, “Really? Can’t we just… watch a movie?”

Harry pouted, “Babe, c’mon… it’s such a beautiful night. It’s nice and warm, and the fresh air will do us good before going to sleep.”

Claire was easily persuaded when Harry pouted at her like that, so she put on her slippers and they exited the house for a walk in the summer evening. The sun was down but the crickets were loud and the temperatures were still warm.

Their fingers were laced together as Harry guided them in the direction of a little nearby park. Claire was in the middle of telling an elaborate story about Dolores when she stopped on her tracks, blinking at the sight in front of her.

The one big tree that stood central in the little park, was lit up with lampions. It exuded warmth and Harry gently tugged Claire’s hand, “Come on.” He murmured, pulling her in the direction of the tree. 

“H-Harry.” She stuttered, not finding any other words to say as she stumbled behind him a little. His face lit up from the lights as he smiled at her, coming to a stop underneath the tree. The shock on Claire’s face was slightly amusing as she blinked at him, “Did you do this?” She whispered.

“Mhm.” Harry smiled softly before cupping her chin and bringing her in for a kiss, “I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Oh my god.” Claire’s heart slammed in her chest and Harry chuckled at the tone of realization in her voice. He nodded softly and held her hands, “Mhm. You always tell me Atlas can’t keep a secret, hm?”

Claire mindlessly nodded and Harry licked his lip, “Well, he kept this secret real good. Even from Finn. He didn’t tell Finn or you that him and I went on a long walk a few weeks back and that we had a really good conversation. He asked me if I loved you and I said yes. He asked me if I’d love you forever, and I said yes. And then I asked him permission to ask you to marry me.”

“Oh my god.” Claire repeated, her voice sounding watery as tears filled her eyes but she broke out into a wide smile. Harry mirrored it and cleared his throat softly, “So here I am. Almost two years after I first thought I’d like to marry you.” He near mumbled the last part, almost saying it more to himself.

“So, my sweet Claire bear.” He teased with a smile while squeezing her fingers before taking a breath, “You came into my life like a fucking hurricane, but I’ve never felt this free or happy. A-And I can’t believe we’re having a baby together. Being with you feels so freeing, like I’ve known you all my life. And it’s so easy between us too. And then I see you with our boys and everything just clicks. You’re truly the love of my life and there’s no one I’d rather share all my days with.” He spoke.

Claire giggled as she giddily leaned in to kiss him. Harry smiled against her lips, “Will you marry me?” He whispered against her lips.

“Yes!” Claire squeaked, jumping in his arms. Harry caught her easily as they laughed and cuddled and he spun her around. Claire kissed the side of his neck and then his lips, smiling through the kissing, “I love you.” She smiled, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Love you more.” Harry chuckled, patting her ass, “Don’t you wanna see the ring?”

“Oh, right!” Claire laughed, “I almost forgot.”

“Atlas helped me pick it out.” Harry grabbed a small velvet box from his pocket and Claire held her breath when he opened it up, revealing the minimalistic yet elegant ring, with a small diamond. It wasn’t too in your face, but it was there, and it was perfect.

Claire pressed her palm to her chest, “Oh, Harry…” She murmured, “It’s so beautiful, oh my god.”

“D’you like it?” He checked, slightly nervous. Claire couldn’t tear her eyes away from the ring as she nodded, “I love it. Truly. Wow.”

“You make me so happy.” Harry smiled as he wrapped her up again after sliding the ring on her finger. They breathily kissed while mumbling out love affirmations until Claire started waddling them back to the house.

Harry laughed at her eagerness as he gladly allowed Claire to guide him back home for a night of celebrations.

//

thank you so much for reading along!!! i adore this one :D :D :D

p.s. you asked to be tagged hehe: @theekyliepage

[unholyhelbig]

Obsessed obsessed obsessed with Firecrest 🥺

Title: Firecrest (Part 2/???)

Read Part One

Summary: Kate Bishop and y/n have an unspoken agreement that revolves around being enemies with benefits. But when Kate's new mentor is someone Y/n is very familiar with, things become complicated.

Warnings: Parental abandonment, horrible parenting, slight mentions of blood, reader has villain tendencies, and horrible grammar because I never proofread!

[A/n: I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I'm honestly really digging writing it. If this is something you guys would like me to keep going, I'll do my best. Just let me know!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

A sting worked its way through your knuckles before dissolving into a dull ache at your wrist. Sweat had started at your hairline and the small of your back before soaking through the wicked fabric of your tank-top. You could feel your shoulders cramping up. But, you’d stopped crying an hour ago. You feared that if you stopped assaulting the punching bag, then the tears would spill over again.

Lance had told you to take it easy. Your ribs had been bruised after the situation you’d left the benefit for. While you were grateful, said distraction packed a punch and you’d taken a swift kick to the gut and the side of a fire escape digging painfully into your side. It took everything in you not to throw the low-level criminal onto the pavement below.

Instead, you’d cuffed him and left him there until morning, or until law enforcement showed up. You were projecting, you were sure. But if your mother looked at you with pity one more time, you would have shoved him to his certain death.

You’d gotten out of the house and came to the boxing gym. The owner had given you your own key and it gave you enough privacy. If you had any tears left, you’d be able to shed them freely. You clenched your eyes shut and threw a solid round of punches, a scream of anguish ripping through your throat.

Two more hits and the bag became stagnant. Not the same, rocking defense that you’d been punching. You were used to the rhythmic sway and your eyes sprung open at the change in density. You’d ripped a bag before, sand spilling onto the floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shouted, taking a step back. Kate Bishop was on the other side of the bag, holding onto it with a concerned stare on her features. Her annoying perfect features, despite the late time of night. You panted. “Shit.”

“I called out, but you didn’t answer. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry.”

She released the bag and it swung back and fourth between you both. The chain that attached it to the ceiling squeaked in a rusted effort. Her stormy eyes flicked up nervously and then back to you. You knew that Kate used to come here with her father, her biological father, but you weren’t aware that she had the same key privileges as you.

You worked a hand through sweat-soaked hair and closed the distance to the side of the boxing ring. You used your teeth to pull open the plastic nib on your water bottle, soothed by the cool swallows. Kate watched you carefully. Her eyes roamed over your form, coated in sweat and toned from years of physical exertion.

You couldn’t stop your shoulders from trembling. Violent attempts from your body to assert it’s emotions. You could give in, and you could do so easily. But you would not. Not with Kate Bishop relinquishing her hold on the punching bag that you’d nearly turned to a pulp of sand and shredded upholstery. This wasn’t your dynamic. This wasn’t how things worked.

It was easy to take a lot of things that Kate was willing to give; a ride home from the gym, a doll that matched hers when the two of you were young, soft touches and harder thrusts. But one thing you refused to take was her pity. It leaked from her expression like a broken faucet and for some reason, that angered you.

“What are you doing here, Kate?”

“I came here to work off some extra energy. What are you doing here? I figured I wouldn’t see you for a few more months after you left the benefit early like that.”

“There was no reason for me to stick around.”

The answer fell from your lips in a deadened, emotionless tone. She clenched her jaw and then unclenched it, mulling her thoughts. There was an apprehension to her stance, even as she closed the distance between you both. She stopped just short of your fingers twitching to press against her hip, holding her in place. You lifted an unimpressed eyebrow.

Another swallow of now-warm water seemed to stop the uncertainty of your movements. You hoisted yourself onto the edge of the ring with a sigh, pressing your fingertips to your temples. Kate moved silently and leaned next to you. The quiet she offered was something you took, just like everything else.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Kate asked softly. You looked at her in confusion, lilting your head to the side. “You watched me fawn over Clint Barton for years. I had his posters in my room, and replica’s of his bows, and every news story ever written about him cut out and saved in a shoebox.”

“Because he’s important to you, Katie.”

“He’s your father.”

“He’s not.” You snapped. It was harsh. You forced yourself to relax, softening your voice. “He’s not. Lance is my father, and Clint Barton is far more important to you then he is to me.”

Kate swallowed thickly and hoisted herself up next to you. Her heat was overwhelming you with comfort. You didn’t have it in you to figure out what that meant, past your petty rivalry. She smelled of fresh detergent, of the winter air that clung to her so heavenly.

Her hand tentatively moved to your knee, and you didn’t stop her. You were still trembling and stilled at her closeness. “I’m not going to see him anymore.”

“Kate,” you chuckled sadly. “He’s your hero, and he trusts you enough to take over the Hawkeye name. You can’t throw that out because of his choices, and you certainly can’t throw that out because of me. We hate each other, remember?”

A look of sadness flickered momentarily against her features. The two of you had been in a constant head to head race to prove yourselves since you were young. Kate always came in first, and you had settled with second place; in school, in sports, in forced family outings. It used to end in toe to toe screaming matches.

But, the two of you were older now, and all that built up tension was easily released with stripped clothes and thrown around insults that did nothing but stir the excitement in your gut.

Being a hero was the only thing you were better at, than Katherine Elizabeth Bishop and you were sure that was about to change with Hawkeyes diligent teaching. Lance and Bobbi didn’t need the glory that came with being an Avenger- no, they kept the secret in the term secret agent.

“Right, of course.” She sounded out, nudged you with her shoulder. “But… you can still talk to me.”

You leveled her with an unimpressed stare. Despite her suave playboy attitude that infuriated you, Kate Bishop was not subtle when she wanted something. She chewed her bottom lip, both of her eyebrows raised in an adorable attempt to ease your nerves.

“Right, you’re right, sorry.” She moved to push herself off of the mat, but you wrapped your fingers around her wrist and gave it a tender squeeze. Kate froze in place before scooting back up, even closer this time. Her words reduced to a whisper, as if trying not to scare you off. “Okay.”

“Do you know what Terrigen crystals are?”

“We learned about them last semester, inhuman history. It’s a catalyst chemical that binds with red blood cells that are receptive to change.”

“Impressive.” You gave her a wolfish smile. “When I was growing up, my mom gave up her solo-agent status and conceded to joining a team, and one of their first missions together was to find, and retrieve these Terrigen crystals, the only ones in the entire world. They were meant to contain them, and nothing else, but things rarely go as planned.”

You were sure that Kate knew about the broken crystals that had leaked into the push and pull of the ocean. Fish naturally consumed the microscopic agent and soon, the Terrigen properties were distributed throughout the world commercially. Coulson had called it untamable. You remembered the fear in his eyes, and you had squirmed uncomfortably in the same Inhuman History class a year back.

“The day that things changed, my Aunt Daisy was in solitary confinement in the team’s underground bunker. My mom was busy running tests on her blood after she’d been exposed to the chemical agent. I knew how to stay out of the way, but happened to be in the lab with her when everything started to shake.”

“Shake?” Kate quirked a brow.

You nodded “The Terrigen crystal gave Daisy control of vibrational forces, but none of us knew that at the time. We just knew that something was wrong. The shaking startled everyone and my mom, she grabbed every Terrigen crystal but one.”  

If not for Jemma, if not for her quick reflexes and wrapping her arms around Bobbi, sending them both from the lab before activating the safety seal, then neither of them would have made it. Indigo mist rushed from the shattered crystal and you remember the acrid floral taste that coated your lungs. It suffocated you.

“The last thing I remember about that day is my mother sobbing. She had both of her hands pressed against the glass surrounding the lab. She wailed like I wasn’t coming back, like she had failed me.”

Kate whimpered your name “Y/n,”

A tear drop hit the collar of your shirt and wicked nicely with the drying sweat. You used the base of hand to delicately wipe the rest away and came to the startling realization that Kate Bishop was one of the only people who had ever seen you cry.

“Everything went dark, then. I remember this hot, prickling feeling and it was hard to move. And then there was nothing. I know now that it was some… some type of cocoon of dirt and stone, but it crumbled away easily when the Terrigen had taken it’s effect.”

“That must have been scary.”

“Terrifying,” You let out a watery chuckle. “But in the end, I was in the best place possible for something like that to happen. I was surrounded by people who cared about me, who loved me, and who could teach me how to control the fire that’s always just below the surface.”

You pulled one knee to your chest and leaned your cheek against it, keeping a steady eye on Kate. She was already watching you. Fingers toying with the small brass zipper of her sweatshirt. She looked beautiful in the dimmed lights, and being this close, stopping to talk to her, had given you an even view of her freckles.

“Clint was on a mission in the Baltic Sea with Natasha, or at least, that’s how my mom tells it. Point is, he wasn’t there and even when he did return he took one look at me in solitary confinement and packed a duffel bag. There were arguments, I’m sure, but I wasn’t privy to them.”

The last time you had seen your biological father was when he knelt down at the sealed doors of the lab. His hand was massive compared to yours, it looked unnatural and alien when he pressed it against the glass. There was a finality in his stare. He’d called you Sparky, and you’d giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world.

You could see the turmoil in her stormy gaze. There was the sense of betrayal there, and the quiet contemplation of someone who had just found out the reality of their hero.  Clint was her everything, her mentor, her teacher. He was the father figure she needed, and that was a clear line drawn in the sand.

Kate’s cold touch against your cheek, hot and tinted red from your earlier exertion, pulled you from your thoughts. Pity had replaced any semblance of anger she held onto. A whine moving involuntarily past your lips. You hadn’t realized how desperate you were for someone to touch you. For Kate to touch you.

Your relationship with the archer had never been any more than a succession of first and second place. A deadly dance that had culminated in open mouthed kisses and wandering fingers. This was one of the few times you’d had a serious conversation with her, a raw one that exposed wounds.

“I’ll do it,”

“Do what?”

You were hopelessly and pathetically lost. She smiled at that, an animalistic grin that often fell over her when she knew she was winning. You’d seen in countless times and couldn’t quite remember when it stopped annoying you and started turning you on.

“Pretend that we’re a couple,” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, dropping her hand and hopping off the edge of the ring. You missed her warmth, but it didn’t last for long. Kate was suddenly posted up between your legs, her arms draped over your shoulders. She was so close you could smell the mint on her breath. “To piss off Clint.”

Your hands naturally found her hips, not daring to squeeze them, “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask. You saw the way Clint reacted to us sleeping together and your instincts to make him angry kicked in. Secondly, I already told him we’re dating. I have way too much talent for him to drop me as a protégé just because I’m banging his estranged daughter.”

“Wow, you have such a way with words, Kate. Really, I’m just fawning over you here.”

She rolled her eyes, but you couldn’t stifle the phantom of a smile on your face. No one had ever offered to do something like this for you before. Especially not someone this close to the playing field. People had called you a freak for most of your life, an inhuman disaster that had a hot temper.

The anger you could control. It was the intensity in which you loved that got you into the most trouble.

Footfalls echoed against the rain-soaked streets of the city. A deep burn resonated within your chest, sweat forming against your collarbone and dripping down the small of your back. You’d never seen the benefit to tactical suits in the summer. They kept heat in like no other and by the time the night was over, your entire body ached.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’d lost one of the targets. It wasn’t something you’ve done in years, but your mind was admittedly somewhere else. You hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past week and it was showing in your sloppy work. Your mother had given you a worried look that only lasted half a second before you’d taken off.

The man you were pursuing was faster than you anticipated, but it wasn’t hard for you to catch up. You never understood why people ran into alleyways. They’d most likely lived in the city for their entire lives and knew that most of them ended in construction zones, or the end of a brownstone.

His chest heaved as he felt the wall behind him, turning and pressing his back against the wall. If he was desperate enough to run, you knew that he didn’t have a plan past this.

The tactical suit came with a few benefits that staved off the discomfort. While your mother preferred her staves, you had always leaned more towards a quarterstaff, a hot, reactive, type of metal that would glow a dangerous neon orange at just your touch.

It extended with a mechanical whir, your head tilting to the side. “Dude, really?”

“Look, I’ll never do it again!” His voice cracked like he was adolescent, but the beard that splattered the bottom half of his face betrayed the effects of his fear. “Just let me go, please.”

You closed the distance that lingered between you both, using the end of your staff to push up his chin. Your voice leaked with mock sympathy “Really? You promise?”

Half of his face was dripping with the blue dye from an exploding pack in a bundle of bills. His hands were coated entirely, the lapels of his shirt smeared from his lackluster attempt to wipe away the pigment. The man nodded vigorously.

“Oh, thank God, that’s a relief. I really thought I was going to have to take you in. The nearest station is eight blocks south and that would be a load of paperwork.”

“Yeah, yes, a lot of red tape” He shakily replied.

You slammed the quarterstaff into his gut. His breath left him, curling into himself as he fell to his knees. In the same moment, an arrow whizzed past you and lodged into his shoulder. His exhale of air turned into a scream of pain.

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. The fletching was a dark purple, almost black under the light of the moon. Telling the difference between Clint’s arrows and Kate’s hadn’t become an issue until now. Knowing that he was in the same city as you made you feel ill.

“I had that!”

The staff retracted and you attached it back in place on your belt. So, what if you liked to play around with the perpetrators every once and awhile? You did good work, but there were long and deep lulls of footwork in the hero business.

Clint stood at the mouth of the alleyway. His stance was shadowed with the concise way he carried himself. You couldn’t tell if he was alone or not, but didn’t get the signature winter scent from Kate’s presence.

He strode up to the target, pulling the arrow from his shoulder with a gentle tug. He put it back into it’s quiver as if it wasn’t slick with blood. Clint cuffed him, dragged him into a sitting position by the arm. You watched his languid movements with a resentment you didn’t know you harbored.

“Yeah, it looked like you had it, Sparky.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

His blue eyes flicked down to your hands, watching for any signs of a dull glow. He didn’t’ find any. You balled your fists and clenched your jaw. You didn’t owe him anything. Tonight, he seemed to be approaching you with contempt, now that his initial shock had worn off.

Clint clearly didn’t’ know how to handle you, or the giant emotional elephant in the room. It was nearing midnight and there was a storm brewing, you could smell it. The last thing you wanted to do was stand by the dumpsters and discuss your feelings, so you started to walk away.

“Kid, wait. I’m approaching this all wrong. I’m sure you had it handled.” His words didn’t stop you, but he jogged to catch up and fell in step. You glared at him, shoved your suddenly cold hands into the pockets of your suit. “We need to talk about Kate.”

This stopped you in your tracks. He wanted to talk about Kate. All these years separated, living completely different lives and he wanted to talk about your fake girlfriend. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s talk about Kate.”

“You can’t continue to see her.”

You stopped, standing in front of him with your arms crossed. He had a few inches on you, but you carried his stance. One of the only things other than his stubbornness that you had inherited from him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Kate is persistent, I’m sure you know that. It took months of her poking and prodding for me to even agree to take her under my wing. She’s a good archer, but she’s reckless, thinks too much with her heart and not her brain. She can’t afford to have distractions right now.”

A brick dropped in the pit of your stomach. The flames seemed to lick viciously at your pulse points. But, you swallowed it back and let out a sad laugh. “You don’t think I’m good enough for her.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t have to, you did all the talking when you walked out on me at eight years old. Then you come waltzing back after years of building the family you wanted. The family that wasn’t filled with freaks.”

“Y/n, I don’t-“

“Because that’s all we ever were for you.” You growled at him. “the accident was just the excuse you needed to leave, and you’ve spent your time trying to make up for it by parenting every single stray that shows up on your doorstep expect for me.”

He was rendered silent, something that Clint rarely was. He opened his mouth and closed it again, a few times as if he was a fish out of water. You were breathing heavy, the words stinging your throat. You’d been harboring that for years, burying it deep inside. He’d tripped the metaphorical wire.

When he did find his voice, it was cracked and morose. “Okay. You’re right, you’re right.”

“I’m… right?”

He nodded sadly “I haven’t been fair to you, or your mother. I was a different person back then. I just don’t want Kate to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.”

A step back from him seemed to clear your mind. For a moment, you wanted to crash into his safe embrace, to breathe in the scent of his aftershave. He was your father, your biological father, and despite it all, you were drawn to his kindness.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, mouth tasting of metal and bile. “You’re afraid of me, Hawkeye. You always have been.”

“That’s not true” He said it weakly.

“It is. You wouldn’t have run the moment I became different if you weren’t.” another step back and he didn’t’ dare to follow you. You vowed not to cry in front of him, or about him. Not now, and not ever, but you couldn’t stop the tears from streaking your cheeks. “You don’t have to worry about Kate Bishop. She can take care of herself. And so can I.”

[kidstemplatte]

papas reacting to fnaf

this is so silly but i’m a diehard fnaf fan. also i started thinking about the parallels between the afton and emeritus family and got rlly emotional LMAO. please enjoy teehee

primo

-you’re sitting at your computer, losing your fucking mind. why is night 4 so hard???

“let me try.” he says.

-you know he won’t get far, bless his heart, but you’ll let him give it a shot.

-little do you know, he’s an absolute BEAST

-he takes a seat at your desk and starts clicking.

so i… stop them?”

“yeah. just don’t let them get into the office.”

“the power’s going down.”

“yeah, when you use the cameras, turn on the lights, or use the doors, it’ll go down. then it’s game over.”

he nods.

-he’s weirdly quiet, clicking away, until you suddenly hear the joyous chimes indicating he’s survived until 6 am.

“is that all?” he goes.

-your mouth is literally agape, you’re in shock.

-it doesn’t scare him at all

-he starts playing the game at his office whenever he needs a break. doesn’t flinch.

-lowkey sheds a tear at henry’s speech.

-he doesn’t like security breach, he prefers the repetitiveness of the old games

-he takes the lore very seriously, like it’s a piece of fine literature LOL

-the story of the afton family is heartbreaking to him and he relates to it a tad </3

-his favorite game is the OG and his favorite character is freddy. he’s a simple man.

secondo

-“this is stupid. what am i supposed to- FUCK! SATANAS! STAI INDIETRO, CREATURA DISGOSTA!”

-he clears his throat.

“i was caught off guard.”

-he doesn’t want to watch the lore videos at first because he thinks it’s “childish” but soon is sucked in.

-watches the lore videos with you and is specifically fascinated with william aftons character.

-he likes kids so he’s immediately disgusted by the cruelty of his actions

-he makes it his life’s mission to unpack the psychology of william afton

-his favorite is fnaf 4, he likes the nightmare designs

-HATES BALLOON BOY. wants to punch him in the face.

-he’s not very good at the games and curses so loudly when he plays because he’s so determined to make it through the night 😭

terzo

-“five nights at freddy’s? why are you spending the night with freddy and not me?”😏

-terzo hates mascots so he’s already scared shitless.

-when he plays the game he talks to himself like a maniac.

“no. stay, bunny. do not move. you too, bear. WHERE DID THE CHICKEN COME FROM? no, let’s NOT eat- eat by yourself, chicken!”

-loses his mind at the jumpscares, screams like a little girl.

-but he’s so interested in the complexity of the lore

-terzo goes down internet rabbit holes late at night LMAO so he’s more than willing to watch lore videos with you

-bro had to do a double take when he saw toy chica💀

-“purple man? he has good taste, no?”

immediately takes it back when he finds out what his deal is

-hums the theme song while he’s at work.

-his favorite game is fnaf 2 (and it has nothing to do with toy chica)

copia

-take a shot every time i say this on my account:

copia is a big fat dork.

(but we all are too, and we love him for it)

-he doesn’t understand it’s scary at first. aww, look at the bear! clicks freddy’s nose on the poster over and over. “boing! boing! boing! boing! boing!”

-but as soon as he checks the cameras he’s like OH. i see what this is.

-he gets so stressed playing the game LMAO

-when you introduce him to the lore he’s so fascinated and deeply invested. it rattles his brain but he can’t get enough.

-the next morning after you watch a video with him he has deep eye bags. you find out he stayed up all night watching lore videos.

-soon he’s a diehard fan. he keeps merch in his office beside his comics and other collectibles.

-his favorite game is pizzeria simulator because he loves the non-scary part 😭

-he loves foxy because he’s “misunderstood”🥺

-and mangle, thinks it’s sad how the kids took her apart and put her back together :,(

-has all the plushies LOL