#warning thinks it’s funny to tease eight about telling the others how he feels | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erwinsvow · 8 months

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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew.

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears.

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family.

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink.

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.”

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches.

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket.

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?”

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control.

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back.

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why.

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with.

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back.

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away.

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking.

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features.

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.”

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought.

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act.

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning.

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting.

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him.

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house.

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body.

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off.

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you.

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now.

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore.

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now.

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them.

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much.

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes.

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it.

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t.

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life.

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same.

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone.

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet.

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it.

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding.

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled.

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.”

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured.

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again.

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him.

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand.

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?”

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister.

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?”

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy.

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?”

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?”

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you.

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you.

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second.

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.”

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door.

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened.

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera.

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away.

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count.

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation.

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers.

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth.

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done.

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on.

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there.

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs.

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them.

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her.

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around.

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again.

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you.

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic.

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple.

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist.

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about.

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are.

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out.

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup.

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?”

The way he says it you believe him.

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want.

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?”

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this.

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you.

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck.

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone.

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way.

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along, but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly.

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today.

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel.

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire.

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?”

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?”

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race.

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.”

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron.

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away.

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence.

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.”

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath.

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside.

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered.

“Make you forget?” he questions.

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been.

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin.

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it.

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down.

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once.

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it.

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again.

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed.

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed.

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted.

He looks up again.

“You ready, kid?”

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him.

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set.

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again.

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?”

“So much better, Rafey.”

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

#eeeeeee!!!! thoughts????#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx

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astridthevalkyrie · 6 months

Text

inspired by rafayel's when light falls memory.

cw: fluff, bratty raf, temporary blindness

When he stumbles into the room, you're on your feet immediately, staring furiously.

"Rafayel."

"Hey, no, you can't be mad." He points in the direction of your voice, and he's slightly off, which only makes you angrier. "If you think about it, this is your fault."

"Rafayel!"

"You sound so pretty when you say my name like that. Say it again?"

It had been on the tip of your tongue, but at his words you swallow the third utterance, merely glaring with a look that would make him shudder if he could see it.

If he didn't, y'know, blind himself again.

"Hmm, does the opposite effect work on you? Let's see. Don't kiss me. Don't get me food because I'm not hungry. Don't take me to bed and lay me down and push my shirt up and ogle me, I'd hate that."

"You're not funny," you snap at him, walking up and snatching his palm. Despite your obvious anger, Rafayel lets out a soft breath of relief at your touch, and doesn't protest a bit as you guide him to sit on the couch. When he'd told you he'd meet you here, you didn't suspect anything. When he said Thomas would be dropping him off, a bead of nervousness had build up inside you. And when Thomas texted you a simple apology text, you'd feared the worst.

He always does this. This is the third time it's happened since you've known him. Each time he cheerily tells you that the doctor has warned him it could be permanent if he keeps being so reckless. And each time, Rafayel ignores that advice completely and stays up another forty-eight hours to paint.

When he's seated, he sighs happily, tugging you close and tucking himself into your chest. "You smell good."

"Shut up. Do you even register how dangerous this is?"

"Mmhm." You see his lips curve into a smile. "Maybe this'll be the time it sticks."

Placing your fingers against his forehead, you push him back and he whines, slouching with a pout on his face. You don't dignify his hypothetical with an answer, stomping away—loud enough that he can hear your displeasure—to take a wrapped sandwich from the picnic basket you'd brought over.

Rafayel's brows furrow when you drop it in his hands, and he has to fiddle a bit before he can take the foil off. Cautiously, he takes a bite, knowing better than to ask you before eating if you're trying to poison him or not (your answer will always be a deadpan yes), and moans a little when the flavor hits.

"This is so good. Did you make this?"

You sit down a foot away from him, crossing one leg over the other and staring stoically at the wall in front of you. "I did. For a date."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his eyes widen, as though he's finally realizing how much trouble he's in. Abandoning the sandwich on the couch, he extends his hand out for you, finding your face first before he wraps his hand around your arm.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. You put all this effort in and I—"

"Completely ruined our plans by showing up without your eyesight? Yes. You did."

"I'm sorry," he says again, pulling at you a little. You acquiesce, if only because the sight of him reaching for you makes you feel slightly bad. He pulls you into his chest this time, hiding his face in your hair as he murmur out apologies.

That's the thing with Rafayel. He can tease and poke and prod all he wants, but the second he actually feels something, he makes it blatantly clear. The guilt is practically dripping off him in waves.

"I'm not mad." You hold both his hands in yours, kissing his knuckles like they're precious—because to you, they are. "At least, not about the date. I am mad that you keep doing this to yourself even though it's bad for you."

His hands squeeze yours, and his blank eyes fill with an emotion you're not even sure he realizes he's expressing. "I told you, s'your fault. I was up three nights in a row working on something you inspired."

"Right." Shifting so that you can kiss the top of his head, you mumble, "So what I'm hearing is I should break up with you and then you'll be absolutely fine."

For a few seconds, Rafayel doesn't say anything, and you become concerned he thinks you're serious. But then he presses into you more, lips grazing against your collarbone.

"That'd be even worse."

"Oh, really?" You run a hand through his hair. "How so?"

"Heartbreak is amazing for creativity. I wouldn't sleep for weeks. Even after my eyesight was gone, I'd just keep paining...and painting...and painting..."

"Okay, okay, I get it." Kicking your feet out, you lay down, pulling him down on top of you. Rafayel sighs, one arm sliding around you as he tucks his face into your neck.

"You really do smell good."

"Please stop doing this to yourself. I'm genuinely asking you, Raf, I'm begging you to just let the inspiration stew—call me if you can't settle and I'll help. But stop it with these all nighters."

His fingers find yours, and he holds your hand against his chest tightly. "Okay," he whispers, "okay."

You don't push it further. If he's agreed, then he'll stick to his word, you know that. You'd feel guilty, at how much he bends to your every request despite the complaints, but it's not like you're trying to get him to buy you a diamond ring (and Rafayel would, should you so much as glance at one). You're making him promise for his own benefit.

"Even if I did lose my eyesight, I'd still remember how you look, y'know." He brushes his lips against a nearly faded hickey on your neck, pressing a soft kiss there. It's incredibly impressive that even without seeing, he knows exactly where his marks on you are. "Wouldn't stop calling you beautiful—promise."

A gentle hum escapes you. "I know. Believe it or not, my ego isn't what I'm worried about."

He laughs quietly, reaching down to kiss your chest before pressing closer to you, listening to your heartbeat with his eyes closed. "Yeah, you're worried about me. That's so embarrassing, you have a crush on me?"

"I'm in love with you," you respond, and predictably, his ears turn scarlet at your open words and he groans, fingers clutching your shirt as he wallows. "Don't dish out what you can't take, honey."

"You're so mean," Rafayel whispers, "stay with me?"

What a pain in the ass. But he's your pain in the ass, and you wouldn't have it any other way. "M'not going anywhere."

#i have to treat him like he's my princess babygirl i have to i'm sorry #love and deepspace #l&ds #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel x mc #rafayel #valkyrie stories

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hey lovely! So I heard you're looking for asks for other than poly!marauders and I love them too, but here's one for tasm!peter parker x shy!reader maybe wherein reader is always saying sorry, like it's second nature to her

like peter gives her the coat she forgotten and she says oh sorry you had to come all the way here, or she was late in one of their dates and she's like sorry I made you wait, one time she notices she was talking too much and says sorry too and peter notices how she does this for everything he does for her and he says, you know, instead of saying sorry, you can say thank you and reader is like what do you mean? and peter is like, I love doing these things for you, you don't have to say sorry, you can say like thank you for waiting for me or thank you for listening to me and he's just so sweet and yeah

love you and your writing as always!

Love you <3

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You’re waiting when Peter knocks, your bouncing knee rattling your coffee table while your roommate shoots you inscrutable looks out the side of her eye. You hop up at the sound, unlatching the door.

“Hi.” You smile at him, grabbing a coat from the hook by the door.

“Hey,” Peter says, mirroring your expression. He looks nice, you think. Well, Peter always looks nice, but tonight he looks all shined up and special. His hair is damp, evidence of comb marks in it, and his shirt looks like he might have actually ironed. You feel sort of honored. He holds up a heap of fabric. “Been missing this?”

It takes you a second to identify it as your coat. Your favorite coat, which you spent most of the morning looking for. “Yes!” you gasp, reaching to take it from him. “I left it at your place the other day?” He nods, and you shake your head at yourself. “Sorry I stuck you with it, I could have sworn I wore it home.”

“It’s no problem.” Peter shrugs. “It had warmed up by the time you left, so you probably weren’t thinking about it.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head again, putting the substitute coat back on the hook and shrugging this one on. “Anyway, sorry. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He steps back to let you out, leading you over to the stairs. “You look really nice,” he says, and you don’t know how he does it, keeping eye contact with you the whole time. Yours drop to your feet.

“Thanks.” You smile down towards the steps. “So do you.”

You think you can feel Peter’s grin burning into the side of your head. He changes the subject for your benefit. “You live on a pretty high floor, huh?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, breaths growing heavier even just descending. “Sorry, I should’ve warned you. You could’ve waited downstairs or something.”

“Hey, I don’t mind.” He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “You can’t help if your landlord didn’t spring for an elevator. How’d you find this place?”

You huff a laugh. “Actually, it’s kind of a weird story.”

“Ooh, okay.” There’s teasing in Peter’s tone, the kind you’ve come to recognize as his go-to flirting technique. “Now I’ve gotta hear it.”

“Well, I responded to a post online about this girl looking for a pet sitter…”

At some point, you work up the courage to look at him while you talk. Peter’s a good listener, nodding at all the right intervals, laughing at the funny parts, brown eyes warm and encouraging. You keep getting distracted by him, but he’ll pull you right back into the story with questions like “So wait, why would she move somewhere her cat wasn’t allowed?” and “It got that attached to you?”. By the time frigid air hits your face, you realize you’ve been talking for eight stories and then some.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. “I can’t shut up, can I?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Peter tells you, just on this side of chiding. He grabs your hand from in front of your mouth, pulling it with his into his coat pocket and starting down the sidewalk at an amble. “I like hearing you.”

It takes everything in you not to wiggle your fingers in his. You hope you’re not blushing as badly as you feel like you are. “You haven’t gotten a word in since we left my place,” you tell him apologetically.

“Like that’s such a long time.” He looks down at you, giving your hand a friendly squeeze. “But okay, fine, let’s talk dinner. What do you feel like?”

You shrug. “I’m good with anything.”

“Perfect,” Peter says enthusiastically, “all my favorite foods are anything!” He grins at you sideways, worse when you roll your eyes. “Now tell me what you want to eat.”

You blow out a breath, trying not to smile. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do,” he says lightly. “Come on. Greek, Mexican, Italian? Just throw it out there.”

“Fine, maybe not Italian,” you admit, preoccupied with the way his thumb is running over your knuckles inside his coat pocket. “I had that last night. Um, do you like Irani food?”

Peter makes a quiet humming sound. “Can’t say I’ve tried it. You know anywhere nearby?”

“Yeah, there’s a place a couple blocks this way,” you say, then backtrack. “But we should get something you already know you like. What do you want to have?”

“I want to have Irani food.” He grins down at you. “I’m always up for something new.”

“No, come on.” You slow your pace, forcing him to match it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pick a place only I would like. We should go somewhere else.”

“I really do want to try it,” Peter says, tone softening slightly. “It sounds good, and I wanna learn the things you like. Come on, sweetheart, let me do this.” He gives your arm a little tug, and reluctantly, you fall into step beside him again.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Peter looks at you sideways. “You apologize a lot, you know that?”

You feel a bit of heat rise to your cheeks despite the chill. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

“You don’t have to,” he says conversationally. “I mean, I don’t mind doing this stuff for you. You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

You don’t, really. It feels like he should mind, like he should understand how indebted all these little things make you to him. “I just…want you to know that I know you’re inconveniencing yourself for me, if that makes sense.” You cringe at your awkward wording. “Just, that I’m not taking it for granted.”

“None of it’s a real inconvenience,” he promises you, giving your hand a little squeeze. “You could always just say thank you.”

You look up at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Peter shrugs. “I mean, I love doing things for you,” he says. “I don’t need any thanks, but instead of apologizing for, like, me bringing you your coat, you could just say thank you.” He looks down, giving you a small smile. His brown eyes are warm and gentle. “And then I’d say you’re welcome, and you could stop worrying about it so much.”

“Oh,” you all but whisper.

Peter’s patient, giving you the time you need to contemplate this while you walk, but after a minute he says, “Is this the place?”

You look up to find you’re standing under the sign of your favorite restaurant. “Yeah,” you confirm, and he releases your hand to hold the door open for you. You shoot him a tiny smile. “Thank you.”

Peter’s grin blows yours out of the water. “You’re welcome,” he replies warmly, following you through the door. His arm wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side as he leads you to the host stand. “Attagirl.”

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mrsportgas · 16 days

Text

Ghost Ridders Chapter.7

PLEASE THIS IS +18, Pure Smut. You are warned.

#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with him on a visit to a New World´s island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.

This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabaody for the first time.

The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡

Previous Chapter

I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as I sat next to Ace. The murmurs and laughter of the group around us faded away, leaving just him in front of me. Ace looked at me with a mix of surprise and curiosity, unaware of what was about to happen. I tried to calm my nerves, reminding myself this was just a game, though for me, it meant so much more.

"Hey, Ace," I said with a playful smile, trying to sound casual.

Ace raised an eyebrow, his smile slightly crooked and eyebrow arched, as if he was wondering what I was planning. "What’s up, rookie?" he said, glancing at the festive atmosphere around us, maybe suspecting that the others were up to something.

I took a deep breath, recalling the dare Deuce had given me, and decided to go for it. “Nothing, just… wanted to say you look good tonight. Really good, actually,” I added, trying to sound flirty, though I couldn’t help but feel a bit clumsy and ridiculous.

Ace chuckled softly, but his gaze softened, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to react.

I couldn’t back out now. I leaned in a little closer, feeling the adrenaline rush through my veins as the space between us closed inch by inch.

Suddenly, when our lips were just centimeters apart, Ace smirked, that mischievous smile he had when he was up to something. “So, you're just fulfilling a dare, huh?” His tone was cheeky, his confidence suddenly renewed. He didn’t seem as confused as he had a moment ago, as if something inside him had clicked.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks but decided to play along. “Yeah… Deuce thought it’d be fun.”

Ace let out a soft laugh, leaning closer with a playful glint in his eyes. "And you thought it was a good idea? Betting on me like I’m some prize?" His voice was teasing, but the way his eyes held mine made my heart race. "Next time, tell those idiots not to be so loud. If I know what you’re up to, it’s not as funny."

I smiled back, trying to keep my composure. "Well, you didn’t seem to mind," I replied, with a hint of teasing in my voice.

Ace raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oh, not at all," he said, his tone shamelessly flirty. “In fact, if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so—no excuses needed." He leaned even closer, his warm breath brushing against my skin. "You didn’t need a dare to come over, Y/N."

My heart skipped a beat, but I refused to let him see me flustered. “Oh, really? And what makes you think I wanted to kiss you outside of the game?” I crossed my arms, though inside, I was struggling to stay calm.

Ace glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, his grin widening, as if he knew he had the upper hand. “Come on, rookie. I’ve noticed those looks when you think I’m not paying attention.” He gave my shoulder a light tap. “Or did you think I hadn’t seen you? Because… you’ve been looking at me more than you’d like to admit.”

He said it with so much confidence that it left me speechless for a moment. I didn’t know what surprised me more: that he had noticed or that he was being so bold about it. I bit my lip, trying to hide my nerves.

“You think it’s just me? You’ve been looking quite a bit too, Ace,” I said, trying to regain some ground.

Ace grinned widely, as if he’d been waiting for me to say that. “Who could blame me? When you’re always there, looking at me like that, I can’t help it. You know you look really cute when you blush, right?” he added in a teasing tone, clearly enjoying our little war of words.

“Oh, shut up!” I shoved him lightly in the arm, but my smile gave me away. Ace, however, leaned in closer, taking the chance to toy with my nerves.

“If you wanted to repeat what happened the other day, all you had to do was say so.” He shot me a sassy look, his eyes gleaming with that perfect mix of fun and flirtation.

I was left speechless. The way he said it, with that overwhelming confidence, completely threw me off. But deep down, I knew it was part of Ace’s charm—that ability to be playful and disarm you in an instant.

I tried to keep my cool, but in the end, I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re such an idiot, you know that?”

Ace laughed softly, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Yeah, an idiot you want to kiss.”

A shiver ran down my spine, and before I could respond, Ace moved closer to my ear. "I think I’m going to take a shower, in case you feel like watching me… like last time." He quickly stood up and, with a calm, carefree stride he desapeared.

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

Deuce, watching from the circle around the fire, winked at me when I returned. "How’d it go?"

I collapsed next to him, feeling the heat in my face. “Let’s just say… maybe Ace isn’t as slow as I thought.”

Deuce chuckled and raised his cup. “I knew it. He just needed a push.” Then he gave me a sly smile. “Or maybe two.”

I stood watching Ace as he walked away. “Should I go? Or should I not go?” I wondered, feeling a mix of adrenaline and nerves.

Deuce, still observing everything with a knowing smile, gave me a little nudge. "If you don't go now, you're going to regret it."

I sighed, knowing he was probably right. I couldn’t let this opportunity slip by, even though every part of me screamed that this was a crazy idea. I slowly stood up, feeling my heart pound in my chest. With a shy smile in Deuce's direction, I followed Ace’s trail, trying to appear more confident than I felt.

The sound of running water guided me toward the showers, where Ace was already sitting in one of the tubs, water cascading over his body, glistening in the dim light of the beach bonfires. He looked completely relaxed, as if he knew I’d follow him—and of course, he had been right. When he saw me approaching, that mischievous smile appeared on his face once again.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” His tone was brazen. “Here to bathe, or did you just want another look?” he asked, letting the water run through his hair while his eyes scanned me from head to toe.

I bit my lip, trying to keep my cool. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ace,” I responded, crossing my arms while looking at him with a mixture of challenge and nerves. “I only came because I figured someone needed to watch you. I wouldn’t want you drowning.”

Ace let out a laugh, tilting his head slightly. “Oh yeah? How thoughtful of you.” He took a step closer, with that playful look that always made me feel so much more aware of every movement. “Although, if I were to drown, I’m not sure you’d be the best person to save me.” He ran his hand through his wet hair, still under the shower, as he watched me with those dark, challenging eyes. “Oh, come on, Y/N. Stop playing hard to get. Get in the water.” His smile was sassy, brazen, as if he knew exactly how to throw me off balance.

The air felt heavier, like everything around us had slowed, focusing solely on him. Ready to play his game, I began undressing with a carefree look, mimicking his own attitude as if I didn’t care about being exposed in front of him, although technically, I already had been.

Completely naked, I slipped into the same tub as Ace, using the bubbles to cover my body.

Ace let out a soft chuckle, clearly enjoying the situation. “Are you just going to stay over there all night... or are you going to come closer?” His grin widened, and without warning, he reached out, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling me toward him. Our bodies were closer than I expected, his warmth and the cool water of the tub surrounding me all at once.

My breath hitched, and though I wanted to respond with something clever, I realized that once again, Ace had won this round. And the worst part was knowing he was right about everything.

Ace cupped my face with his hand, bringing our mouths closer together as he guided my legs to wrap around his torso.

Just before our lips finally touched, fear that our relationship would become even more complicated made me speak up. “Ace... I... I can't do this.”

Without letting me finish, Ace pushed me away and quickly moved to the other end of the tub. “Fine, if you don’t like me, you should’ve said so earlier.”

“Ace, that’s not it...” I said, completely thrown off by how he could think that.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I never thought the feeling was mutual. I’ve always been alone. If it weren’t for my brothers, I wouldn’t even know what it’s like for someone to love you just for being who you are. Well... and Pops.” I slowly approached Ace, who was now staring out of the window with his back to me, ashamed. “I’m just not made for anyone to love me romantically.”

I grabbed Ace’s arm, tugging so he would turn around and face me. “Look at me, Ace.” He turned, trying to avoid my gaze. “I like you, Ace, but I can’t let things between us get even weirder. I can’t stand it when you ignore me.”

Ace quickly looked at me, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Before he could say another word, I lunged toward him, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Ace wrapped his arms around me, placing my legs back around his torso as he nipped at my neck.

“Let’s head to the showers,” he whispered. “I don’t want anyone to see us here and get us into trouble."

Ace took my hand and led me to the showers, which were separated by walls and a door. We both quickly slipped into one of the stalls, laughing like two little kids up to no good.

Ace locked the door and, with his strong arms, pulled me close. "I could get used to this," he said between laughs, and started kissing me again as his hand slid down my body. Soon, it reached my intimate parts, and with a look asking for permission, he slowly moved to my clit, rubbing it gently but in perfect circles. As the room filled with our moans, I began touching Ace, moving down inch by inch until I reached his cock. It was already hard, but I knew it could get even bigger. We kept touching each other, enjoying the sounds escaping the other's mouth.

Ace stopped, pulling my hand away from his cock, and dropped to his knees, his hands parting my legs. "To be honest, I want to eat you out so bad," he said with a wink. He started licking my clit, making circles with his tongue, occasionally sliding it down to my entrance. He was doing it perfectly, with passion like everything he did.

After a while, I was already nearing my climax, riding the wave of ecstasy and my impending orgasm. "Ace, I'm going to cum..."

Hearing this, he quickly stood up and slid two fingers into my tight hole while I rode them, pushing myself to my peak. "Ace!!" I screamed as the explosion of pleasure hit me.

"That's it, pretty. You’re going to be saying my name all night."

My legs were trembling, but that didn’t stop me from returning the favor. This time, I knelt down, taking his cock in my hands and putting it in my mouth. Ace grabbed the walls for stability, moaning wildly as he thrust into my mouth, the pleasure taking over him. Tears streamed down my cheeks as Ace's cock grew bigger and bigger.

Just as he was about to climax, he pulled his dick out of my mouth. "I only want to cum in that pretty cunt of yours."

With that, he turned me around, pressing my face and chest against the shower wall and sliding his massive cock into my tight hole without warning. We both moaned, and Ace started pounding me from behind, holding me up as my legs buckled with each thrust. "You're so tight.... I love it," Ace groaned as he bit my ear.

"I love it when you go rough," I responded, turning to wrap my legs around his body.

"I got you, don't worry, just enjoy." He said grabbing my thighs

Ace kept thrusting, faster and faster. We were both nearing our peak when I felt the ball of pleasure in the pit of my stomach unravel, sending me into a powerful orgasm. As I came, Ace followed right after.

We both looked at each other, panting and laughing. Ace gently lowered me to the floor, making sure I didn’t fall, and turned on the shower to wash us off.

"Come to my room," Ace suddenly said. "Just to sleep, I mean. Or do you want to go back and listen to Marco’s snoring again?" He smirked at my confused look.

"Hmm, I don’t know, maybe if you ask nicely," I teased, trying to throw back some of the attitude he’d given me earlier.

"You're sleeping with me tonight, Y/N, don’t play hard to get now. Just try not to fall in love," he added with a wink.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?"

We both laughed.

After getting dressed again, we headed to Ace’s room.

"My room is your room, roocks."

Ace’s room was similar to the one I shared with Marco, except it had a large bed, a few trinkets from his travels and missions, and some newspapers scattered on the table.

"Monkey D. Luffy... Why do you have a wanted poster of a pirate from another crew?"

"That’s my little brother," Ace said with a wide grin.

"Look," he said, showing me a news article: "The Worst Generation Pirates."

"My brother’s in Sabaody now. He’s going to be a great pirate," he said proudly.

I started reading the article about the Sabaody Archipelago and the Worst Generation pirates.

“Law…” I whispered, seeing his picture.

Ace snatched the newspaper from my hands. "You know this pirate? Trafargar Law?".

NEXT CHAPTER

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justmeinadaze · 1 year

Text

We're A Family Part 12 (Steddie X You)

A/N with warnings: Y'all know when I give you both in one you're gonna feel some things lol There is no smut in this one but all the angst and fluff near the end. Like I said I knew I wanted a chapter like this but I wasn't exactly sure how I wanted it to go.

What Y/N and Dylan discuss are things I have been through with biological mother especially that feeling of not being enough. If this triggers you, I highly recommend you skip this chapter. Dylan does confront Charlie about how he treats him and it doesn't go well. Dylan talks in detail about how it makes him feel and the guys and reader will talk about their own traumas with their parents.

If you've ever experienced anything like this or have ever felt you weren't enough for one or both of your parents, I'm here to tell you that they fucking suck and your feelings are valid. You ARE enough <3. I love you!

Word Count: 4535

“Can I, um, talk to you guys about something?”, Dylan asked as he entered the living room.

Steve looks at his watch before placing his arms back on your legs that were strewn over his lap. “It’s after eight. Didn’t Ed say he had to submit questions in writing at that time?”

“A ha. You’re so funny.”, your son teases as you grin.

“Do you need everyone or will we do?”, you ask. His eyes look around hesitantly and you know before he speaks. As you rise from the couch, you kiss the top of his head before opening the back door. “Hey! Our son needs a word with everyone over 3.”

“Oh shit. I just barely made it then.”, Eddie chuckles as he takes one last drag and stomps out his cigarette.

“Ok, weirdo. The floor is yours.” You grin at him encouragingly as you sit between the distance of the boys on the arm rest.

“I…so…um…”, he looks down as he fidgets with his fingers. “I was wondering if…I could, maybe, visit my other dad.”

You feel the tension in the room rise immediately, mostly from Steve’s side as you and Eddie glance nervously at each other.

“I don’t have to like spend the night or anything. I was just thinking maybe a dinner or something.”, Dylan quickly followed.

“Can I ask why, baby? Why now?”

His anxious eyes meet yours. “I miss him a little bit…him and Vivi…”

“That’s understandable. Is it okay with you if the three of us talk about it first?”

“We can talk about it now. I think it’s a bad idea.”, Steve responded in a hard tone.

“Steve…”, Eddie warned.

“What? After everything that’s happened?!”

“He’s allowed to feel what he’s feeling.”

“Yeah, and as his parents we are allowed to protect him. I say no.”

“Harrington, you do this every time the topic comes up. Y/N is right, we need to talk this through first and then depending on what we decide we also need to reach out to Charlie.”

As they argued back and forth, you and Dylan continued to stare at each other sympathetically. This is what he was afraid of, hurting their feelings. You saw it in his broken-hearted face while he saw your fear for his own feelings not just when it came to them but Charlie as well.

You subtly nodded your head, signaling you would handle it before he came over to give you a hug.

“I love you, weirdo.”

“I love you to, mom.”

All conversation stopped as you three watched him head back upstairs.

“I want to make one thing very clear, Steven Harrington. That is the last fucking time you do anything like that in front of my son. Do you understand me?”

“I’m trying to protect—”

“No.”, you cross your arms as you glare at him. “I don’t care what you were trying to do. It took a lot for him to do what he just did especially in front of you both. He knows you two care about him and love him but that doesn’t change the fact that Charlie is his biological parent. He’s not like Aurora. He had a whole other man in his life he called dad for 6 years before you entered the picture.”

Steve’s jaw clenched as he looked away from you. “I just don’t get it. I mean…if Charlie wasn’t a complete douchebag…

“I get it.”, Eddie sighed. “Those first few years after Wayne took me in, I still missed my parents. Even after everything they did, I kept thinking maybe if I was ‘a better kid’ they’d come back. When that didn’t work, it was more like why wasn’t I enough, you know? Then it became a mission. I NEEDED to hear from them why I was easy to leave behind. It took a lot of angry nights and patience from Wayne for me to get here.”

“Steve, I know you mean well. Honestly…”, you exhale as you sit beside him. “I’m more worried about having to tell him that Charlie doesn’t want to hang out with him yet and see that sad look on his face.”

“You shouldn’t have to be the one to tell him that.” You look up at Steve in confusion. “Maybe, if Dylan makes that call…”

****

Dylan sat on your bed as the phone rang. Both men thought it would make him more comfortable if you two were alone but they remained at the foot of the stairs to listen in.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Vivi.”

“Dylan!? Oh my god. Hey, kiddo. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m doing really good. I miss you. Did you want to talk to your dad?”

“I miss you to. Please…”

“Ok, bud. One second.” You two listened as there was some shuffling on the other line. “Dil?”

“Hey…dad.”

It broke your heart to hear him hesitate as you ran your hand through his hair. The truth was he didn’t really think about Charlie that way anymore but there was still a part of him that hoped. Eddie’s eyes flicked to Steve who exhaled heavily, patting the space next to him on the stairs. As the boy sat down, the metalhead comfortingly rubbed his palm along his back, resting his chin on his shoulder as they continued to listen.

“Hey, you. How are you doing? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, no. Everything is fine. I’m fine. I, um, I wanted to call to see if, um, maybe you and Vivi would want to hang out with me. We could have dinner or something.”

“Oh, dude, that would be amazing…”

Your eyes squeezed shut before he finished his sentence. You knew. He had done this so many times during your marriage.

“Baby, that’s amazing, but I can’t actually make it to your graduation that day. I have to work.”

“I know this is so hard for you, Y/N, but I don’t think I can go with you to your dad’s funeral.”

“Hon, I had dinner scheduled at this amazing restaurant but something came up…”

Steve knew this dance to but his father was a lot more aggressive with his approach.

“Congratulations on graduating high school, something everyone accomplishes with little to no effort. I’m proud!”

“Oh, you got an A in English? Come to me when you run your own company. Now THAT’S an accomplishment.”

“But we just have so much going on right now we barely have anytime to even sleep!”, he chuckles. “How about we revisit this conversation in a few months, huh?”

“Ok, baby. Give me this and go hang out in your room, alright?” Dylan hesitates as you pull the phone out of his hand. “It’s ok. I got it.”

“Y/N? Did you put him up to this?!”

“Yes, Charlie. I set in motion a diabolical plan for your son to want to spend time with you.”

“Believe it or not, I have a fucking life of my own now and family to take care of. You both can’t just surprise me like this!”

“He’s asking for a dinner not a fucking vacation! And believe it or not, he’s a part of that family you should be taking care of to.”

The bed dips as Eddie sits beside you, Steve leaning in the doorframe.

“No. Remember, he has a new dad now. Two of them!”

“You’re such a child. Don’t do this, Charlie. He’s a good kid. He deserves better.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, Y/N. I’m busy alright. Look… maybe if we go back to court and come up with a schedule so I can make time…

“Yes, because that worked so well in the past. I’m not going to waste time and money to do all that if you can’t even see him for 2 hours.”

“Still so fucking self-righteous. Like you’re god’s gift to parents. I…”

His voice trailed off as Eddie took the phone from your hand. “Yeah, that’s enough of that.”, he growls under his breath as he hangs up. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Fucking asshole.”

“I mean…I know I’m not the nicest guy but—”

He smiles when you laugh and push his shoulder. Steve comes up to your side and pulls your head against him as he kisses the top of it.

“I’m sorry, honey. Maybe, we can all go do something this weekend that Dylan likes. Let the kid have some fun.”

###############

You awoke to the sound of a toddler giggling as she tried to pull herself onto your bed.

“Aurora Munson-Harrington, what are you doing?”, you grin from your place on Steve’s chest.

“Up! Mama, up!”

After untangling yourself from both men’s protective arms, you lean over to grip her biceps as you tug her onto the mattress and plop her on top of the man you were using as a pillow.

“Dada, wake up.”, Ro smiled as she placed both her hands on his cheeks, pressing her face to his.

“Can I help you?”, he groggily asked.

“Teehee. Dada, up.”, she laughs again as she signals with her hand that she’s hungry by tapping her mouth.

“You know, that sounds like a daddy problem. You should go bug daddy.”

“Nooooo… dad!”, she exclaims.

“That’s my girl.”, Eddie smiles as he throws his arm over his eyes, yawning.

Aurora crawls over you and Steve to straddle her father’s chest, tracing his tattoos with her fingers as she waits for someone to do what she asks.

“I can go make breakfast. Let me just check on Dylan real quick.”

“Din bye bye.”, she waves towards the hallway. All eyes fully open as they turn towards the toddler.

“Ro, hey, what do you mean Dylan bye?”, you ask.

She fiddles with her fingers for a bit before answering. “Din bye.”, she babbles some more before pointing towards the stairs. “Beep beep!” You jump out of bed as she mimics the alarm noise you’ve heard her do when someone opens the door.

“STEVE!” He quickly gets up to head for Dylan’s room. “He’s not here!”

“He probably hasn’t gotten far if he woke her up. Come on.”

****

Dylan knew this was going to get him into trouble especially after what his dad did that got him arrested but he has to know. He has to physically talk to his father to understand why he didn’t seem to miss him like he did.

He loved Eddie and Steve so much but he just couldn’t understand why it was so easy for them to be his dad but not for Charlie. Is it something he did? Maybe he shouldn’t have called Eddie dad in front of him…but he was scared…Eddie made him feel safe. As he got older he found he was more into stuff his dad found “appropriate” like sports and things like that. Isn’t that enough?

After a 15-minute walk, he finally arrived at his destination, exhaling out the nerves before knocking on the front door. No one answered immediately so after a few moments he knocked again. He heard angry rumbling on the other side as it finally flew open and he was met with his father.

“Who the fu—Dylan? What are you doing here? Where’s your mom?”

“I needed to see you.”

“You what? Hang on, come in. I need to call Y/N and let her know you’re here.”

The boy walked in heading for the living room as his dad detoured towards the kitchen. It was quiet until he heard your voice echo through the phone.

“Charlie?! Is he there?”

“Yeah, he’s here. Calm down!”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! I’m on my way!”

He huffed under his breath as he hung up the phone.

“I swear, Dil, sometimes your mom such a pain in the ass.”

The boy’s nose scrunches in annoyance. “Don’t call her that.” Charlie turned to glare down at him. “Why don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“Look, bud. You’ll understand more when you get older that adults get extremely busy sometimes and—”

“So does mom, Eddie, and Steve. Eddie owns a store and Steve worked while going to school.”

“Well, fucking good for them.”

The sound of your hand banging on the door cut through the tension that was beginning to build. You flew in as it opened not waiting for an invitation. Charlie gestured for Steve to enter and he did so cautiously, his eyes scanning over Dylan.

“What the hell were you thinking!? You don’t just leave like that!”

The boys eyes avoided yours as he targeted Charlie again. “WHY don’t you want to spend time with me? I play sports, I get good grades. I’ve gotten into more things I know you like so we can do more stuff together. I don’t get it!”

Steve reached for your arm and pulled you slightly back out of the line of fire.

“ANSWER ME!”

“HEY! I’m your father! You don’t speak to me like that!”

“You’re not my dad!” You started to step forward, prepared to shield him from everything going on but Steve’s arm extended out to stop you as his eyes remained on Dylan. “Steve and Eddie are my dad! They don’t make fun of me or tell me what I like is stupid! They come to every one of games and help me when I need it! They are actually there for me when YOU NEVER WERE!”

“Charlie?”, Vivian’s small voice echoed from the hallway; her hand casually resting on the baby bump. “What’s…what’s going on?”

Dylan’s eyes looked her over from head to toe, his bottom lip quivering as if he was trying to form more words but couldn’t. Steve stepped forward and kneeled in front of him like he did when Dylan was smaller.

“Are you ready to go home?”

The boy nods.

“Ok. Is there anything else you want to say to Charlie or maybe Vivian?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”, he whispers.

Steve softly smiles as he runs his thumbs under his eyes. Dylan wrapped his arms around his neck and the man lifted him up like the boy was still six years old. As you three headed for the door, Steve turns to address Charlie.

“This was your chance and you blew it. I’m not going to let you hurt him anymore. You stay away from him. Do you hear me?”

“Or what?”, your ex challenged.

“Try me, Charlie. We did this once already and you lost. Now you’re messing with my son. It will be a whole lot worse. Stay. Away.”

##############

“Beep beep.”, Aurora parroted as the front door opened. Eddie immediately rose to his feet just in time to see Dylan fly past him and out into the backyard.

“What happened?!”

Without a word, you followed after him where he was pacing in the grass trying to catch his breath.

“Dylan, breathe, honey.”

“He’s…he’s replacing me. I knew it…I knew it…”

“Knew what?” His breathing picked up as he slipped further into his panic attack.

Eddie came down into the yard and encircled his arms around him from behind as he placed his palm on the boy’s chest.

“Kid, I want you to do me a favor, ok? Whenever you’re ready, tell me five things you can see.”

“Wh-what?!”

“It can be anything. Surprise me.”

“Um…I see…mom…grass…”

“Good. Keep going. What else?”

“I see…dad on…on the porch…Ro playing inside…sky.”

“Good, kid. You badass. Ok, now tell me four things you hear. Again, any four.”

Dylan’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to focus. “Birds. I hear birds…kids playing in the street. I hear mom’s breath….and my voice.”

“Ok, three things you can feel.”

His chest was still heaving a bit but you noticed his breathing wasn’t as labored.

“Your hand on my chest. Um…the wind…and the sun.”

“You’re rockin’ it, kid. Two things you smell?”

“Your cigarettes.”

“Well, that’s a given. Even the dead can smell that.” Dylan released a heavy laugh that made you want cry with happiness. “What else?”

“My mom’s perfume.”

“It’s the one you got me for Mother’s Day.”

He and Eddie both grin. “One thing you can taste.”

“My spit.”

The metalhead turned him around, placing both palms on his cheeks. “Gross.” You son laughed as he hugged him, pushing his face into the man’s chest. “You’re okay, Dylan. Everything is okay.”

****

Dylan crashed on the couch with his sister who insisted on laying with him when the boy came back inside.

“Din sad? No!”

You three leaned against opposite ends of the kitchen counter as Steve updated Eddie on what happened.

“Fucking prick.”, he sighed.

“What was that, Ed? That you did with him outside?”

“The sensory thing? It’s something some school counselor taught me after I moved in with Wayne. She said it was meant to ground me, get me out of my brain and focus on the moment.”

“You panicked like that?” He subtly nodded before turning his attention to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for, sweetheart?”

“Steve was right. I should have told him no. I should have protected him.”

“He needed this, Y/N. Eddie never got to tell his dad how he felt and the closest I’ll ever get was telling him fuck off when you were pregnant. You got to tell your mom and now he got to tell his dad.” Steve exhales as he folds his arms. “Maybe now he can really start healing.”

###############

After dinner that night and putting Aurora to bed, you laid with Dylan in his room like you guys used to in the apartment.

“I’m sorry I snuck out. I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

“I appreciate that. You are still grounded though for the next week.”, you smile as you pretend to shutter. “Why do you have to make me punish you? I don’t know how to do that. You never get into trouble.” He chuckles at your words. “I love you so much, weirdo. I hope you know that.”

“I do, mom. I love you to.”

“I remember when you were born and I held you for the first time… I knew I would do anything for you. I always thought I could protect you from all the bad stuff and I try! I really do but sometimes…things slip past me, I guess.”

“Hey. Are we asleep yet?” Steve pokes his head into the boy’s bedroom.

“No, why?”, you grin.

He waves at you both with his hand, urging you to follow him. He leads you outside where Eddie is already waiting.

“Why hello there child and ma-ma.” You roll your eyes playfully at the man’s announcer style voice. He gestures to the box in front of him. “What we have here are disgusting man dishes we had across the way when we were neighbors.”

“Man dishes?”

“Honey, they are glass items that are in plate form but I wouldn’t legally call them that.”, Steve chuckles as he reaches in and hands everyone something to hold. “Eddie and I figure; we’ve been living here for almost 6 years. Time to leave our rowdy bachelors lives behind us.”

“Wow, you two need to calm down.”, you laugh at them.

The metalhead smiles as he nudges Dylan with his elbow. “Remember how I told you a few years ago I moved in with my uncle when my dad did something bad?” The boy nods as he listens to Eddie speak. “He was attempting to steal another car when the owner found him hot wiring it. They got into a fight as my dad tried to run but, of course, cops got him. Because this was one of MANY offenses, the judge didn’t even think twice, and locked him up for good. I remember my mom telling me they had arrested him and why. I couldn’t stop thinking ‘Why? He had us…were we not enough?’.”

Eddie abruptly threw the glass against the concreate around the end of the patio as hard as he could. “Oh wow. That felt nice.”

Steve laughed as he inspected the object he was holding. “My dad always wanted me to be ‘the best’ encouraging me to sign up for sports and these clubs that our family had been a part of for generations. The problem was he never told me what ‘the best’ looked like. In high school, I was MVP in basketball but our team never made it to the championship. Somehow that was my fault…not like he would know because he never went to any of the games.”

The man copied Eddie’s action, the glass shattering loudly. “You’re right, man. That did feel nice.”

Dylan looked up at you eagerly as you heavily sighed. “I hated back to school shopping with my parents. Kierra and I would always hold hands and listen to them bicker about which outfit was appropriate. My dad advocated for what would make us comfortable whereas my mom wanted what looked the best. I remember one time she took us into the dressing room and insisted we prove to her that my dad’s suggestions would work. I had on blue jeans and a yellow tank top with sneakers. Kierra found a sundress that was so gorgeous. She, um, she said my sister looked like a truck stop hooker and my shirt over accentuated my stomach making me look fat.”

You threw your glass object a bit harder than you meant to but it did release a lot of aggression you felt in your chest, not just from the memory but everything else.

“When I was smaller, when mom and dad were together, I didn’t get why he was never home but…I was okay with it because he yelled at you a lot when he was.”, Dylan exhales before continuing. “When he would take me somewhere, he always seemed... distracted. He would be talking to other people or on his phone. He took me to a movie one time and after the previews said he needed to go to bathroom and didn’t come back till the movie was over.”

You son threw his plate hard and you followed him reaching for something else to throw along with him.

“If I could go back in time, I swear to god…”, you growl.

“Ok, Rocky. Chill.”, Eddie chuckles as he runs his palm through your hair. “But for real though. What kind of guy would leave a dope kid to watch…what was it?”

“Spiderman.”

“Oh my god. Seriously? Who does that?” The metalhead tosses a plate casually, smiling when it shatters.

“Eddie’s right. I mean, you’ve shown me all those Marvel movies! Wait until Ro get into them and you can tell her all that trivia you gave me. I think it’s so cool you know all that stuff.”, Steve grins as he throws something else.

“My dad never liked anything I did! He always said it boring and nerdy.”

“Who says? And even then, what’s wrong with being nerdy?” Eddie hands him something to throw and he does.

“Right? There’s nothing wrong with it. Not like it matters because I tried things he likes and he still doesn’t care!” Dylan continued to talk, casually throwing things between each of his sentence. “I did everything I could and even then, he’s still too busy! He was too busy for mom and me but had time for Vivi! He was too busy to hang out with me but has time for everyone else! He always seemed to find time to make my mom cry or tell me I should try something other boys are into but can’t come to one baseball game! He doesn’t even call me on my birthday anymore! How is he going to have time for a baby when he doesn’t have any time for me!”

Dylan pauses as he reaches into the box again to find it empty. He turns his head to find you three standing off to the side, watching him. Steve takes his hand and guides him to the porch steps where he and Eddie sit so they can be eye level with him as you come up behind him, wrap your arms around his chest, and rest your head on top of his own.

“Do you how when people say, ‘I know how you feel’ and you think ‘You have no fucking idea how I feel’? Dylan… we KNOW how you feel. We know our family is a little weird but…”, Steve smiles when the boy laughs. “The first time we met you when you knocked on our door, we knew you were a unique kid. You’re so smart, funny, incredibly kind. I love watching you play with Ro. You’re extremely patient with her and you make her giggle all the time.”

“You’re actually a lot like your mom. When we met her our lives were kind of stagnant.”

“Stagnant?”

“Boring.”, you reply. “I know. Eddie’s whipping out the big words.”

“You calm down over there, princess.”, he winks before turning his attention back to Dylan. “What Steve and I are trying to say is, we understand that you’re going to think about or miss Charlie. Nothing wrong with that and you won’t hurt our feelings if you ever want to talk about him or anything like that. We just hope you know that…we love you very much.”

“And we would never do anything to make you feel like you’re not important or that what you like or enjoy doesn’t matter. We see you the exact same way we Aurora. You’re our son. Full stop. No strings attached. No conditions. You’re safe with us, little man.”

Dylan detaches from you to wrap his arms around Steve before disconnecting to do the same with Eddie.

“Ok, criminal. You’re free from the adults now.”

“Criminal?”

“I don’t know. Kid’s sneaking out now, getting grounded…He’s a wild child. Who knows what he’ll do next.”, Eddie shrugs as Dylan rolls his eyes before they meet yours.

“Go head and can you please make sure Ro is still asleep?”

“Oh! And don’t tell her about this. The toddler doesn’t really need that idea planted in her head of throwing dishes.”

Your son nods as he runs back into the house. Both men look up at you with a knowing gleam in their eyes.

“And you two were afraid of becoming your fathers.”, you smirk.

“Eh. We may have grown up a little bit these past six years.”, Steve grins as he reaches for your arms, tugging you between his legs before leaning his neck up to kiss your lips.

“Thank you for that and this.”, you gesture towards the glass.

“Of course. Now let me go get a broom so you can clean up this mess you made, sweetheart.”

You fain a gasp as he stands and you lightly smack him with your hand. “MY mess!? Excuse me, sir!” Eddie cackles as he runs into the house and Steve guides you towards a step to take a seat. “You’re not even going to let me help, are you?”

The boy shakes his head as he grins, the metalhead charging back out with a broom and a trash bag.

############# @adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @alienthingstwo

@steddieloverrr @manda-panda-monium

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri @sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

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sugdenlovesdingle · 2 years

Text

Slightly later than planned - @tailoredshirt here's your @tarlosweeklyprompts Valentines exchange fic. I hope you like it!

---

Detective Reyes and the Valentines day mystery (AO3)

After 15 years of marriage, TK still manages to surprise Carlos

---

“If it’s romance you want, Reyes is your man.”

Carlos looked up at the mention of his name. He was putting the finishing touches to a report and hoped to finish early and get home to TK. It was supposed to be his day off, but he’d swapped shifts so one of his colleagues could go home to be with their sick kid.

They’d do the same for him.

“Yeah Carlos is mister romance around here.” Mitchell patted his shoulder as she walked past his desk. “Ask him about his husband and he won’t shut up for the next five to eight hours.” She turned around and winked at him. “I speak from experience.”

“What’s going on?”

“Anderson here is looking for ideas on how to propose to his girlfriend.” One of the other officers replied. “How did you do it?”

“Propose?” Carlos asked, mind already drifting back to that night. “I didn’t. He proposed to me.”

“Don’t get him started.” Mitchell warned them. “You’ll never get him to shut up. Trust the one who used to be stuck in a patrol car with him all day.” She turned to Carlos. “I could probably tell the story for you, I’ve heard it that often.” She teased.

Carlos laughed but otherwise ignored her.

“What do you want to know?” He asked Anderson. The kid was new, just a few months out of the academy, and reminded Carlos a lot of himself at that age. Eager to please and impress the more senior officers.

“Oh… uh… well… How… did… How did your husband propose? If… If you don’t mind me asking? I was thinking of booking a table somewhere nice and have them put the ring in a glass of champagne or the dessert.”

Carlos winced at the guy’s plans and could practically hear one of TK’s rants after a shift around valentine’s day or Christmas where someone had done the same, and things hadn’t gone according to plan.

“Booking a table sounds nice.” He started.

“But…?”

“But…” He saved and clicked out of the report. He’d finish that tomorrow. His shift was almost over anyway. “My husband is a paramedic. He tells me about his shifts, I tell him about mine.”

“Ok…”

“Do you know what’s one of the most common calls they get on Valentine’s day?”

The kid shook his head.

“People putting engagement rings in food to surprise their partner and it not going well.”

“Not going well… as in they say no?”

Carlos stood up and walked over to where the other officers were talking.

“No… as in… they don’t know the ring is in there and swallow it and choke. Or swallow it without noticing and freak out when their partner tells them there was a ring in their food.”

“Oh… ohok right… yeah… I uh… ok. Noted.”

“Yeah. Spending the night in hospital waiting for it to pass isn’t how you want to remember the night you got engaged.”

“No, no it is not…”

“So how did your husband propose, Reyes? Give him an idea of what does work.”

Carlos smiled.

“He woke me up in the middle of the night and said he was ready to make his will and leave everything to his husband.”

“Carlos’ husband has had more near death experiences than you have had hot meals.” Mitchell cut in. “If anyone needs a will, it’s him.”

“He’s a lot more careful these days.” Carlos protested. “Ever since we had kids.”

“How do you do it?” Anderson asked him. “My girlfriend is pregnant and I don’t know how I’m going to be a dad and a good police officer.”

“It’s not easy…” Carlos started, thinking back to when he’d made detective and he and TK becoming parents for the first time within the space of a year. “But having a good support system helps. Whenever someone offers to help you with something, anything, take them up on it.”

“That means roping your friends in to babysit.” Mitchell commented. “I feel I know your kids better than my own.”

“You’re their godparent, you’re supposed to.”

“Funny how it’s always your kids staying with me and Paul and never ours with you and TK.”

“What can I say Lex, they just love staying with their cool aunt and uncle.” Carlos joked before turning back to Anderson. “My advice? Keep it simple. Everything. My husband didn’t even have a ring when he proposed and we ended up exchanging vows in the firehouse where he still works. His dad was captain back then. A friend of ours got ordained online and married us right then and there. It wasn’t what we planned but it was perfect.”

“Captain Ryder from firehouse 126.” Mitchell cut in. “He married me and my husband too. He’d probably be delighted to do the same for you and your girlfriend.” She told him and Carlos couldn’t help but think she was right. Judd was a big softie at heart.

“Just… whatever you do, don’t put the ring in her food or drink.” Carlos stressed again. “My husband is on shift tonight and I’ll hear about it for months if he’s the one getting called out to your girlfriend choking on her engagement ring.”

“TK is working tonight?” Lexi asked. “On Valentine’s day?”

Carlos shrugged.

“We’ll celebrate on the weekend. The kids are sleeping over at my parents’ and we’ll just have some us time then.”

“What are your Valentines plans then?” another colleague asked.

“Tonight? Well TK is on the night shift so we’ll at least get to have a family dinner and put the kids to bed together. Well… the youngest anyway. And after that… I’ll just… catch up on some tv I suppose. Save my energy for the weekend.”

“Sounds exciting.” One of the younger officers joked.

“We’ve had our fair share of exciting.” Carlos grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “Come talk to me in 15 years and see how exciting your life is.”

He wished everyone a good night and drove home.

The house was dark but TK’s car was in the driveway so he figured he must be home.

“TK? Babe? Are you home?” he called out when he walked into the quiet house.

No kids, no dog, no husband, just Ginsburg observing him from the top of his cage.

“Hey Gins, where is everyone?” He greeted the bird and gave him a peanut. “Did they leave you out here all on your own?” He made a mental note to talk to Gabriella, again, about not letting him out of his cage unsupervised.

Suddenly he heard a noise coming from upstairs and his hand automatically went to his service gun.

Usually the first thing he did when he walked through the door was put it in the safe, but now he was glad he hadn’t yet.

“Hello? TK? Gabby? Morgan? Daniel? Anyone home? Luna?” He went upstairs to check out the noise. “TK?”

“Carlos?” Came the reply from their bathroom. “Is that you?”

“Yeah it’s me.”

He let out a sigh of relief and went to put his gun away in the bedroom safe before making his way to the bathroom.

TK was in the bath and one look told him what the noise he’d just heard was. The shelf next to the bath had collapsed again and all of the bottles had fallen in.

“Just so you know, I thought you were a burglar and I nearly shot you.” Carlos said, sitting down on the floor next to the tub and helping TK fish out the bottles of shampoo.

TK paused what he was doing and pulled a face.

“I’m glad you didn’t. That really would have killed our plans for tonight.”

“Our plans? You mean you working the overnight shift and me wrangling three kids and a dog? Who all seem to have disappeared.”

“They’re with my dad. Change of plan.” TK explained. “Well Morgan and Danny are with my dad and Gabby is at the Ryders to hang with Charlie.”

Carlos nodded, trying to catch up.

“And Luna?” he asked when he’d figured out which member of their family was still missing.

“Also with my dad. I think he’s bored now he’s retired. Maybe we should get him a puppy for his birthday. He misses Buttercup.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Carlos replied, not wanting to get side-tracked talking about Owen’s birthday. “But why is everyone out? It’s a school night and you’re working.”

“Change of plan. We swapped with B-shift so we work tomorrow instead of tonight. Nance’s sister is in town and they’re having some kind of girls night with Marj.”

“Right.”

“So that means…” TK started, sitting up in the tub a little more and leaning closer to Carlos. “I get you all to myself tonight.”

Carlos smiled and kissed him.

“And what were you planning on doing on this child and dog free night?”

“Oh I have plans. Big plans.” TK replied, sitting back in the tub.

“Plans that involve getting out of that tub any time soon?” Carlos asked, amused.

TK cocked his head.

“Define soon.” He grinned. “Why don’t you join me?”

“TK the two of us will never fit in there together.”

“Of course we will. There’s plenty of room.” TK argued and after a few minutes back and forth, Carlos gave in and got undressed before getting in the tub with him.

It was a tight squeeze but with his back against TK’s chest and their knees pulled up slightly, they just about made it work.

“See? I told you it would fit.” TK said, pressing kisses to Carlos’ neck and shoulders and letting his hands wander over the rest of his body, feeling the tension slowly slip away. “And we have a history of making the most out of tight spaces.”

“And just like that the moment is gone.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met.” TK teased. “Or fifteen minutes after I suppose.”

Carlos shook his head but let the comment slide. He was too comfortable and happy to forget about the world outside their bathroom for a while.

They chatted about their day while TK washed his hair, and Carlos decided if they never left the tub, he would be more than ok with that. He leaned back against TK and closed his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me.” TK’s voice was in his ear. “We have plans.”

“Unless it involves you, me, our sofa, the tv, and last night’s leftovers, I’m not interested.”

TK laughed.

“You’re getting boring in your old age. You’re starting to become a grumpy old man.”

“You’re older than me.” Carlos replied.

“And yet you’re acting like you’re 90 instead of 42.”

“My inner 90 year old doesn’t care.”

TK laughed again and pressed a kiss to his shoulder before getting out of the tub.

“I’ll give you ten more minutes before I’m coming to get you.”

“Hmm…” Carlos replied, closing his eyes and leaning back in the tub. The warm water soothing the aches and tired muscles.

He’d meant to go back to physical therapy because his back and legs were acting up from an old injury he’d sustained on the job when Daniel, their youngest, was little. He’d fallen three stories when the floor of an old building had given out when they were chasing a suspect.

The doctors had said it had been a miracle he’d survived, and they’d do everything they could for him, but that there was only a slim chance he’d get back to how he was before the accident.

But Carlos was nothing if not stubborn and re-learned to walk again, just as Danny was starting to take his first steps. He always said they learned to walk together.

Finishing fifth in the father-son race at his school when he was six had been the ultimate triumph after a long recovery.

“Ok your ten minutes are up. I’ve picked out something sexy for you to wear, it’s on the bed.” TK came back into the bathroom. “Do you need a hand getting out?”

Carlos shook his head and reluctantly got out of the tub and accepted the towel TK handed him.

“Are we going out?” he asked, drying himself off and taking a good look at his husband who was dressed way too nice for a night in front of the tv.

“Yep.”

“Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

“Did you book a table somewhere?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

Carlos frowned and followed him into the bedroom.

The outfit TK had picked out for him was simple but nice enough for a restaurant. A green shirt and suit jacket, paired with dark jeans.

And a tie.

“A tie? Do you want me to wear a tie with this?”

“Yes.” TK grinned and picked the item up from the bed. “But not around your neck.”

“Where else would I wear it?”

“It’s a blindfold.”

“A what? Why?”

“So you don’t figure out where we’re going until we’re there.”

Carlos looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“You want to blindfold me and take me to an unknown location? I’ve arrested guys for less.” He deadpanned, making TK laugh.

“Well detective, if you’re lucky we’ll get the cuffs out tonight.” He winked. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then trust me when I say you’re going to like what I planned for us.”

Twenty minutes later, TK was leading him out the door and helping him get into the car.

“TK, I was born in Austin and I’m a cop. I know this city better than anyone. I’ll figure out where we’re going anyway, just let me take off this blindfold.”

“Nope. You big control freak.” TK teased, fastening his seat belt and getting into the car himself. “And I’m certain you won’t know where we’re going.” He started the car.

“Is that a challenge?”

“No but you’re going to make it one, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

They drove around for a while and as much as Carlos hated to admit it to himself, he had no clue where they were. He had a feeling TK had taken a few extra turns to throw him off and it worked.

Though he wasn’t about to tell TK that.

“Ok we’re here.” TK parked the car. “Don’t move and don’t take off the blindfold. I’ll help you out. Give me a minute.”

“Where’s here?” Carlos asked, feeling a hard surface under his feet as he got out, meaning they were at least still in the city.

“You’ll see.”

He tried listening for noises to tell him where they were but there wasn’t anything distinctive. No music or talking from other people, so they probably weren’t downtown.

“Two steps coming up.” TK warned him and he carefully lifted his feet to find them. “And now a small threshold.”

He stepped over it and let TK take off his jacket.

“Where are we?” he asked again. “It’s not a restaurant… it’s too quiet. And we didn’t drive long enough to get to the ranch… but we’re still in the city, right?”

“Don’t try to detective your way out of this. You’re not at work now.” TK scolded him before taking his hand and leading him further. “Take a step to the right and then sit down.” TK instructed him and guided him to his chair. “There is a table in front of you.”

Carlos reached up and put his hands on the table.

“No tablecloth… so definitely not a restaurant.”

“No, but I promise the food here is great.”

Carlos frowned.

“TK what did you do?”

“It’s a surprise. Just give me a minute and it’ll all make sense.”

“I doubt that.” Carlos mumbled and judging by the sound of TK’s laugh, he’d heard him.

He heard something being unscrewed and then being poured in what he assumed was a glass.

“Do you want a drink baby?” TK grabbed his hand and put a glass in it.

“Wine?” Carlos asked after taking a sip.

“Grape juice.”

“So we are having dinner?”

“Of course. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t feed you?”

“I don’t remember the part of your vows where you promised to blindfold me.”

TK laughed.

“You’ve never had any complaints in that department.”

“Because it usually involves our bed and a lot less clothes.”

“We’ll get to that later.”

Carlos heard someone, possibly TK, move around and the sound of containers being opened and something being scooped onto what he assumed were plates.

“Ok. You can take off the blindfold now.”

Carlos quickly undid the knot on the back of his head and pulled the tie away from his eyes. He took in his surroundings before meeting his husband’s smiling eyes across the table.

“Really? This is where you took me?”

TK shrugged.

“I didn’t have a lot of time to plan something so I had to make do.”

Carlos laughed and shook his head.

“And how did you do this?” he looked down at the food on his plate.

“Delivery.” TK explained, trying to keep a straight face. “The guy was waiting outside when we got here. That’s why you had to stay in the car. Now eat up before it gets cold.”

Carlos picked up the chopsticks next to his plate.

“Let me get this straight… You made me get dressed up, blindfolded me, drove me around Austin for half an hour… just to take me home and have Chinese food at our own dining room table?”

TK grinned and flicked on the little electric candle in the middle of the table.

“Congratulations detective, you’ve solved the case.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos fic #911 lone star fic

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webdollzz · 7 months

Note

omg this is so scary for me rn (its my first req😭) but anyways if you have time

do you think you could make a smut fic where reader is a police officer and hobie is just handcuffed being the flirty mf he is and then something just snaps inside of reader then BOOM theyre fucking inside a cop car🤷‍♀️hobie is just thrusting, no hands😭

(hobie is talking a lot too bro be talking about some “go on lovie, cmon.” “never knew a cop would do this, huh?” BYE HELP)

a/n: this idea is soooo...soooo...soooooo. mmmmf. for first time requesting, you chose such a good idea omfggg.

warnings: fem!officer!reader x criminal!hobie, praise, p n v no protection, oral (f rec), slapping (once on inner thigh), hobie n his foul mouth, swearing, overstim?, teasing, slight mocking, dom hobie???

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

You had been a cop for the last...maybe eight months? having finished your training and got hired at your local police department. And honestly, you've never had this many calls on just one person. He's always up to no good.

"We have a 10-35 on Cheapside, some guy spray painting on cop cars." Your boss said, and the second he said 10-35, you had a strong feeling who it was. You grabbed your badge, baton, and pepper spray. You knew you wouldn't need it with him. It's just procedure.

Hopping into your car and turning on the sirens, you quickly made your way to Cheapside. Immediately as you pull up, you see him leaning against the wall, spray paint cans by his booted feet. a lazy smile crosses his face as he watches you step out the car, raising his hands. "There she is, my favouri'e copper." he drawls, making you instantly roll your eyes.

"I'm convinced you do this on purpose," You stand in front of him, hands on your hips. "C'mon, you know what to do." Which makes him grin before spreading his feet shoulder length apart.

"Yes, ma'am." watching you kneel infront of him and begin patting his legs, feeling his dick twitch as you brush his thighs.

"Any weapons on you, Mr. Brown?" You ask as you make your way over his hips and torso, staring up at his face. His stupid smug face, as if he wasn't a felon by now.

"Other than my dick? naw." He chuckled, feeling your hands run up his sides and back before you touch his arms.

"Same joke everytime, and it's less funny each time." you scoff, forcing him to turn around so you can cuff him, making it a couple notches tighter than it needs to be.

"who says i's a joke, eh?" he comments, looking over his shoulder at your unamused face, making him laugh.

"get in the car, Mr. Brown." you hissed as you open the back door, forcing him in with your hand on his head. you lean over him, grabbing the seatbelt to buckle him in, your faces inches away. you see him study all your features out of the corner of your eye, a slight smirk on his lips.

you attempt to ignore the bulge in his jeans but as your forearm brushes it when you clip the belt in, your face can't help but turn pinkish. his smirk only grows, so slightly pushing his hips up in hopes of meeting that same friction again.

"cmon, lovie. y'know ya wan' it." he basically whispered, his breath going across your cheek. you give him a glare before moving away from him and slamming the door, making him grin. the drive back to your station was long,

one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. little did you know, Hobie was slipping out of his belt without you realising, your mind preoccupied. He moved to the edge of the seat, leaning over.

"So, lovie. Tell me sum," He murmured, making you flinch and look over your shoulder at him.

"Shit! How'd you get out from your belt?" You curse, unable to pull over at this moment in time, which made him snort a laugh.

"You think about me when you fuck ya'self?" He blurted, making your face flush and splutter a cough. you're...not proud of it, but there has been times he's slipped into your mind. the thought of his hand instead of your own. his whispers of how well you're doing in your ear.

"tha's a yes, innit?" He cooed, grinning to ear to ear at your flushed face. you cleared your throat, shaking your head.

"no, it isn't." you scoffed, finally able to pull over, tucked away by an alley. immediately stepping out the car and climbing into the back, you attempt to try and get him back in his belt.

"Fuckin' corporate otherwise I'm doubling your sentence."

"ya' can't do that."

"I can,"

"only thing y'can do is suck me o-" He hardly finished his sentence before you slapped a hand over his mouth.

"shut up. every time I arrest you, you got somethin' to say. shut up for once." you hissed, and you can tell by his eyes squinting that he had a smile on his face. he then bit your palm, making you flinch and yelp.

"y'like it. cmon, lovie. give in." he urged.

"no. don't make me tighten your handcuffs."

"wouldn't be the first time I'm in handcuffs. don' even hurt no more. I can still fuck ya' with no hands." He coaxed, but was surprised when you seated yourself in his lap.

"what? surprised a cop would do this to a filthy criminal like yourself?" you mocked him quietly, glaring. You had enough. He better fuck you like he says he can.

he nudged your cheek with his nose, tilting his head to try and kiss you. you happily accept, giving him a sloppy kiss as you dipped your hands into his boxers, stroking his hard cock, a guttural groan rumbling through him and into the kiss, which you happily drank up. your free hand shimmied your trousers down, along with your panties, letting them drop in the bottom of the car.

he stared at you, his eyes darkening as he sees your glistening cunt in the street light. you pull him out of his boxers just enough, your hand gripping the base as you guided him to your aching core, not wasting a single second.

"are you gonna fuck me like you promised?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Hobie thought you were taking too long, thrusting upwards. you let out a moan as your hands braced beside him.

"Wha'di say? Hm?" You didn't answer, kissing him purely to make shut up. you rolled your hips, drawing a whimper from surprisingly both of you. you pull away from the kiss, smirking at him.

"did you just fucking whimper?" you teased, watching his eyes darken. It filled you with unfiltered excitement.

"what's next? gonna call me mommy and start begging? mommy, mh! please!" You mocked, getting all hight pitched as you grinned. you opened your mouth to mock him some more, but got cut off as he thrusted upwards again, knocking the wind out of you and a mewl bubbled in your throat. you fell forward, chest to chest with him now.

"don' do tha' shit on me." He scoffed, digging his heels into the bottom of your car before setting a rhythmic pace, sliding in and out of you with ease, his heavy breaths right in your ear.

"o-oh f-..fuck." you gasped, his dick hitting places your fingers, toys, and exes never could. you didn't even know they existed until his thick and long cock decided to hit every single one of them. you buried your face into his neck, moaning repeatedly as your head swirled, focusing purely on the pleasure.

"look at me. look at me right now." He hissed in your ear, groans and grunt in the back of his throat. you leaned back, making eye contact with him through your half lidded eyes, your pretty pink lips parted as soft moans fell from them.

"fuckin' told you I could do i' with no hands," he hissed in your ear, moans spilling loudly from your lips as they mixed with his grunts and the slapping of skin.

"tha's it. Good girl. Such a good girl, yeah?" He cooed, almost mocking as he stared at you, thrusts never faltering. you still nodded, your palms flat on his chest.

"mhm..I am. fuck, please. please." You begged, head spinning as you felt the knot in your tummy tightening as you whimpered.

"whats that? did you just whimper?" He was clearly mocking you, as if he wasn't giving you the best dick you've ever gotten. he knows he is.

"j-just shut up and fu..fuck me." You gasp, your tits bouncing with every single thrust beneath your shirt.

"take your shirt off." He nodded towards your uniform shirt, and you quickly unbuttoned your shirt to reveal a bra matching your panties, tits practically spilling out of it. he let out an amused hum, his eyes never leaving your chest.

"matching set? were you expecting to fuck me today?" He huffed with humour, watching you shake your head. "No? someone else on your radar? You fuck every criminal, babe?" He mused, picking up his speed. how the fuck was he doing this shit with no hands?

"n-no! I just - I just like to match." you whined, panting as you grew closer.

"uncuff me. right now." He grunted, watching as you fumbled to find the key in your uniform trousers. you quickly found it, unlocking the cuffs. without another second of being free, his hands flew to your hips for support as he drilled into you, your slick dripping onto the seat below.

"F-fuck, Hobie!" you gasped, clawing at his chest. his first name on your lips made him let out a guttural groan. he had only heard mister brown till now.

"say that again. say my name." He whispered, sounding almost desperate for it.

"Hobie, m'gonna come. shit, please. please, hobie. I'm so close." You babbled in his ear, chanting his name like a fucking prayer. he huffed, his right hand drifting from your hip to your clit, rubbing tight circles.

"cum f'me, pretty girl." He urged, watching your legs spasm as your orgasm crashed over you. you swear you could see stars. you let out several high pitched whines mixed with gasps. he wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing you to his body as he used you for his own pleasure now. you moaned in overstimulation, clinging onto him.

"oh god, oh god." You whined, hiding your face into his neck as you left crescent shaped marks into his skin. he grunted, his orgasm quickly approaching.

"I know, baby, I know. I'm nearly there, almost done. Y'doing so good." his praise made your head spin, and you selfishly wanted to come again. you involuntarily clench around him, a shallow gasp leaving his throat as he finishes unexpectedly.

"Fuck." He groans in your ear, thrusts becoming sloppy. his groan spread heat all through you, and you whimpered softly as he pulled out, not wanting to feel empty so soon.

he kept an arm around your waist, the other going to the back of your head as he switched your positions, kneeling in the footwell, pulling you to the edge of the carseat.

"what are you doing?" you whispered, hand on his shoulder to slightly push him away. he immediately swatted your hand.

"cleaning my mess up." He simply said, as if it were the most obvious thing. He kissed up your thigh, and your breath hitched.

"w-wait-.." You mumbled, and he immediately pulled back, concern painting his face.

"You okay?"

"yeah, it's just..no ones ever.." You trailed off, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. his brow arches, cocky amusement on his face now.

"I'm 'bout to be the first to ever eat this pussy? whatta fucking honour." he groaned, his cock throbbing at that fact. he starts kissing his way up your thigh, his hand reaching back to push the passenger seat forward a little so he had more room cause he's a lanky prick.

he then drifted his hands up your thighs, listening closely to your breath hitching, your hips instinctively pushing towards his face as your hand tangled in his hair.

"Please," you whispered meekly, watching him bite and suck his mark into your thighs.

"patience. I eat pussy when I'm ready." He huffed, digging his fingers into your thighs.

"you've eaten other girls out, huh?" you asked, tilting your head at him.

"none like you. ain't none of em had a cunt I wan'ed to nut in." You scrunch your nose at his vulgarity.

"You're feral." you huffed, making him snort a laugh that made you smile.

"Yeah, I know." He grinned, planting a kiss on your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath. he licked a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, going slowly at first to ease you into the new sensation.

"S-shit..s'nice." you nodded, tugging on his hair as you looked down at his pretty hazel eyes between your legs. he hummed as if he knew, the vibrations making your hips buck with a whimper from the back of your throat.

he simply couldn't help himself, beginning to eat you out like a man starved. your breaths got heavy, mixing with loud moans. his slurping sounds and your moans mixed together, the car windows steaming up.

if anyone had taken a peak down the alley you parked in, they would immediately know what was happening. you're fucking a criminal right now. as a cop. fuck, this could ruin your entire career if people found out! this is bad, this is so ba-

"ay. eyes on me. I'm eating your cunt and you're not even paying attention?" He scoffed, slapping your inner thigh, not roughly, but enough to get his point across. you flinched, moaning.

"I'm sorry, m'sorry - please. please carry on." He stared at you, almost glaring.

"usually I wouldn't, but your pussy is fucking perfection." He grunted, leaning back down to suck at your clit, his tongue definitely alot rougher since he saw you paying zero attention to him between your legs.

you sucked in a harsh breath, your hand going to the window and making a hand print on the foggy glass. his middle and ring finger made their way to your entrance, sliding in with ease. his slender fingers immediately found your sweet spot, curling there as he intensified his efforts.

"s-shit! fuck, I'm close. I'm so close." You whimpered, your other hand tugging on his hair. you didn't miss the way his eyes rolled back at that. your back arched, a loud gaspy moan falling from you as your orgasm ripped through you. he happily drank up every last drop, absolutely pussy drunk. how could he not be? you're absolute perfection. as your high subsided, he pulled away, his fingers and chin coated with your cum.

"taste ya'self. see why this is my new favouri'e thing to eat?" He asked, putting his fingers past your lips for you to taste yourself. you moaned softly, swirling your tongue around his fingers, and he grinned. he pulled his pants and jeans back up to his hips, putting his belt back on before slowly dressing you, giving you a kiss on the temple.

your radio chirped with your boss asking where you were and if you needed backup, making your eyes widen.

"Fuck. I was supposed to bring you back like fourty minute ago." You cursed, grabbing your radio.

"Responding, culprit is under control. Bringing him in now." You said, tossing the radio into the front seat. He grinned, looking at you smugly as you slipped his cuffs back on, making them less tight than they were earlier on.

"Ya gon' bail me out in the middle of the night for head?"

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misskatebishop · 3 years

Text

Don't hide in the shadows

Word count: 1.588

Pairing: Druig x Eternal!Reader

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: You're too shy to tell Druig that you like him, so you turn red whenever he's around you.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

A/N: I loved writing this. I was so excited when I received this request. I hope you enjoy it.

Request: May I ask for a Druig story where Reader's an eternal too and the most shy of them all, like very shy, and Druig loves to tease her and sees her blush, but Druig obviously has deep feelings for her.

Reunite with everyone in a single room was some sort of torture, you think. Not because of the arguments that are more likely to start when everyone’s together and disagree on something, but because you always felt a little out of place.

Well, not a little. You’re definitely out of place.

You look at Phastos arguing how his newest design can help mankind to evolve with Kingo and Ajak. Ikaris is having an argument over each Eternals’ power with Sprite while Sersi calmly listens to them. You don’t know where Makkari is, you enjoy her company. Instead, Thena is leaning against the wall across the room, observing. Gilgamesh isn’t here yet, nor is Druig.

You step in the shadows of the room, crossing your arms in an attempt to make your presence as unnoticeable as possible. You really wish everybody were here by now. All you want is to go back to your book.

“If you keep walking backward, you’re going to merge into the wall,” Druig whispers in your ear. His sudden presence startles you. You hadn’t heard him approaching.

Druig has a pear in one of his hands. He stands by your side, giving the pear a bite. You blush at the sight of him. The truth is, you’ve had a crush on Druig for a long time. You admire his fierceness to fight for his values and defend his points during every meeting. However, the other Eternals barely notice your presence in the Domo. You’re too quiet, Sprite said once. You’re always focused on your duties, exchanging a few words with whoever was partnered up with you.

Sprite was one of the most talkative until she gets tired of only talking while you agree with whatever she’s saying. Sersi is as focused as you, you barely talk to her. It was easy to talk to Thena, she always had the most interesting subjects. Makkari likes to make fun, but you feel comfortable around her, maybe because you didn’t need to voice your opinions out loud, the words were at the tip of your fingers. Ajak was always kind.

Kingo was too self-centered, and you definitely don’t know how to make conversation with him. Phastos likes to hear what you have to say about his creation, even if you’re too shy to share it at first. You like Gilgamesh, and he enjoys showing you what he’s baking. You don’t have much to share with Ikaris, but he would make the other shut up so everybody can listen to you, and Druig… well, you don’t think you can keep a conversation without blushing every eight words. He likes to tease you, just like he did a few minutes ago. It was funny, but you often find yourself wondering if he liked you the same way.

Gilgamesh enters followed by Makkari who stops on your other side. She greets you, then exchanges a glance with Druig, it’s too fast, but be the quietest one also allowed to observe the others better. You see Ajak steps forward to the center of the room.

“Good. Is everybody here?” The leader says, eyes searching the room.

Then you feel Druig’s arm around your waist, pulling you forward to the line of people. He keeps the arm around you, and you feel your cheeks and ear heating up at the display of closeness. Ajak’s gaze fell on you, and on Druig’s arm, and she nodded.

Ajak explains that their stay in Babylon will be a little longer than usual due to the goal of making it one of the greatest cities in human history. They would need the Eternals’ help to evolve as a society. The rules are the same, kill the deviants, improve their technology, don’t interfere in conflicts. You feel Druig’s tight around you at the last rule, his body tensing up. You know that despite the rule Druig wasn’t willing to let it go. If no one was seeing, he’d interfere.

The meeting is over the moment the Domo floats above Babylon. Ajak reminds all of you of your duties before dismissing you. Druig plays a big part in it, as he can control minds, he’d calm down the humans, making them accept the Eternals in their city. After all, a flying spaceship would freak any human out in this moment of history.

The other starts to walk away, but not Druig, he turns to stare at you, his hand still on your waist. Looking eye-to-eye at him, makes you blush again. Damn, he’s handsome! Just a glance from those eyes is enough to make your knees buckle.

“Don’t hide in the shadows, princess,” Druig tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re too beautiful to not allow the world to admire you.” And just like that, he walks away.

***

You were sitting by the fields after you’ve completed your duties. The sun would set soon, and you enjoy watching it from this perspective, even though you’d have to run back in time for dinner. You were chilling, watching how Sersi works with the plants has helped to keep them healthier and to create some sort of trading market.

It was a good thing, except for the fact that trades usually lead to greed, the desire for power, to have more and feel superior in a certain way. Of course, even though plenty of good things come from their work with humans, it also awakens bad sides within them. So you heard the yelling, you stood up thinking it might be a deviant, but it wasn’t. It was two men fighting over a bowl of onions.

You see when one of them pulls out a blade. You couldn’t do anything about it. Those were Arishem’s rules, no matter how much you wanted the men to stop. You expected the worst, but then, the man let the blade fall on the ground. They laughed at their own stupidity before sharing the number of onions.

You see Druig approaching, a smirk on his face.

“I thought I told you to not hide in the shadows,” he reminds you.

“I thought Ajak said we shouldn’t interfere,” you tell him.

Druig sighs, walking along with you.

“You could get in trouble with Arishem.”

“Worrying for me?” Druig says, a teasing smile tugging on his lips.

You can’t help the blush from spreading on your face. Of course, you worry about him. You worry about all of them, but Druig… He has this way of getting in the nerves of anyone, which makes you fear for him.

“I don’t care about what Arishem says,” Druig admits. “Why would a Celestial allow war and violence to happen in the world when they consume human’s hearts with selfish desires? I don’t understand. I never will.”

You could see the sense in his words. You walk in silence for a while before you break it.

Then, you spill out. “I can’t disagree with you,” you shrug, looking at your feet as you walk.

“Does it mean you won’t tell Ajak?” His voice makes you look up, and it gives a little bit of courage when you poke his ribs.

“I won’t tell her,” you assure him.

You walked the rest of the way. You enter the room you reunite for dinner. You frowned when nobody was there, you were late, where could they possibly be?

“Y/N,” Druig calls you. “Today we killed the last deviant in Babylon, so they must be at the celebration.”

Oh, yes, you had forgotten about that. Did he–?

“Did you read my thoughts?” You ask, confused.

Druig steps closer.

“No. I’d never do that,” he says, seeming equally confused.

“You do that to Ikaris every time,” you raise a brow, but you’re smirking too.

“Well, it’s different with you,” he says, getting closer. You’ve never been this close before, and it messes with your sense. You inhale deeply his smell, you could see the freckles on his cheeks, and how light the blue in his eyes is.

“Why?” you ask in a tone of defiance.

Druig’s gaze drops to your lips, which makes you feel small.

“Because I’m waiting for you to tell me how you feel.”

If he hadn’t stepped up and cupped your cheeks to kiss you, you might never have acted on your feelings at that moment. You drown in the sensation of his lips against yours, for a second you don’t know what to do with your hands, but you end up wrapping his neck and holding onto his shoulder. Then, when he pulls away, and the magic seems to disperse, it’s only then that you realize that that actually happened.

“Uh, I-I really like you,” you confess. Better do it in the heat of the moment than never. If you hadn’t said that now, you’d probably pin on him for the rest of the centuries.

“I really like you too,” Druig says, grinning. He strokes his thumb on your cheek. “My beautiful, beautiful, Y/N.”

The truth is, you can never know if someone returns your feelings if you don’t talk them out.

Walking to the celebration drew glances from your fellow Eternals companion. You snuggle close to Druig.

“The lovebirds are finally here!” Kingo blurts out too loud, drawing more attention to the couple. “We have to toast. Where’s Sprite and Makkari?” Kingo stood up. Thena had a victorious smile on her face, and Gilgamesh looked as happy as her.

You blush, hiding your face against Druig’s chest. You have a long night ahead.

#thalia writes #druig x reader #druig x eternal!reader #druig x you #druig x y/n #druig x oc #druig fic #druig fluff #druig imagine #eternals #druig oneshot #druig x female reader #marvel eternals #barry keoghan #fluff #ao3

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kyberphilosopher · 3 years

Text

Fensterln

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me.”

Warning(s): some allusions to sex, explicit-ish language, fluff, reader has a whole ‘Black Cat’ thing going on. Word Count: 3273

Notes: This is a requested work. This is a headcanoned canon version of Superboy, meaning he is no version in particular and simply the character I figure as a whole. Reader can be any gender.

“Fensterln is when you have to climb through someone’s window in order to have sex with them, without their parents knowing about it.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You know, most people think that climbing up the side of a building is easy. Like it’s nothing. They see it on TV, and in the movies, and in cartoons even, and they think, “That doesn’t look so bad!” because it doesn’t. Cartoons and actors don’t have to deal with the wind whipping their hair, constantly pushing their whole body all around, the butterflies of anxiousness making their heart thump, threatening the scenario of falling to their death. It’s terrifying. It takes a lot of skill, a lot of courage, and a lot of luck.

“Shit.”

Your right hand releases from the glass, arm slowly swinging back until it’s at your side. The same sides foot follows this pattern of rotation, until only your left fingertips and toes are stuck to the wall of the building, suctioning you to life. Below you, hundreds and hundreds of feet, is an island of grass and sand, encompassed by a large body of water. Over the tidal waves chip chopping away, there’s a distance. And in that distance, is the city, just under the inky blackness of the midnight sky.

Jump City, it’s called. You’re not too familiar with it. Most of your time is spent in Metropolis, or Gotham. Luckily, both of those cities have plenty of skyscrapers to practice scaling. One could say that you’d perfected the art of this sort of thing. The finger pads on your suit are sophisticatedly sticky, seamlessly letting you latch onto anything with grace. Your feet are the same.

The wind hits your face like sharp needles, amplified by the cold air and the incline. Your hair whips around wildly, also different from how it flows, softly, in the movies. The harsh breeze roars in your ears, louder than the thousands of explosions you’ve heard in your lifetime. Although dangerous, nothing beats the view. Those thousands of lights in the distance, the cars, the buildings, this building that you’re on now. Titan’s Tower is far larger and closer and more important than anything else at the moment.

“Okay then,” you mutter, twisting your body over to the right twice more, until finally both hands and feet are connecting against the glass in a stealthy, perfect crawling position.

You work your way up, one foot and hand at the time. You resemble that of a spider, or perhaps a cat. One, two. One, two.

His room is on one of the top floors, if not the top floor. From the two other times that you’ve done this, you remember the number of steps, the distance, the little cracks in the glass panes to look for so you know you’re close. Even from the outside, hundreds of feet up, hanging above death tantalizingly, you know exactly where you are and where you need to be. And you know, of course, that you are close.

Your right hand leaves the wall once more and reaches down to the belt on your hips. “Coming, my love,” you mutter as you flip open a small pouch attached. From the inside you pull out a slim switchblade, made specifically to cut through glass walls like this- designed it yourself.

The knife springs open. In a circle big enough to fit your entire body, you trace the blade in a wide arc from up to down, left to right. Then you flip the blade back inside, place the whole thing back into the pouch on the belt, and shove your left elbow against the middle of the glass in front of you.

It pops free immediately. The circle of wall falls forward into the room, with you not far behind.

Landing like a gymnast on your toes with your arms overhead, you are immune to the sharp pain in your femurs that comes from a sudden pressure like this. The glass pane is still intact on the floor ahead of you, which is coated with a red carpet that you recognize so well. It’s much warmer inside than it was outside, although you can still feel the night wind from behind you.

“Silent,” a voice remarks from beside you. It’s not an amused tone, really. It’s genuine and full of awe, surrounded by something casual.

You hum as you stand before throwing a look over your shoulder. Sure enough at your back, splayed casually on a bed against the wall you just broke through, is your favorite boy toy. Dark, curly hair framing his classically handsome face, nose scrunching slightly on instinct. He’s wearing the black and red super shirt he always does, coupled with the plaid pajama bottoms you’d gotten him as a gift in spring.

You want so badly to quip something back, but you both know you can’t right now. Not when you’re so close to the door. And yeah, that’s partially Conner’s fault, if not all. Too much noise would attract the attention of his team mates, the Titans, and then something probably not that great would happen. Maybe they’d throw you out. Maybe they’d fire him. Maybe things would just get weird. It’s not as if you and Connor are an official couple, even after all this time. You could stop sneaking around to see each other at any sense of danger.

You take a step towards the bed he lays on, noting the big, bright smile that lights up Superboy’s face at the motion. “Can you fix the hole?” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

Conner’s eyes go wide and the smile gets bigger.

“In the wall.”

The smile turns into an eye roll. “Yes,” he sighs, almost dramatically, pushing himself up. The boy crosses to the center of the room a few feet from you and begins picking up the perfect circle of cut window- wall while you look around the area.

You’ve snuck into Conner’s room before. Twice, in fact. It’s not clean, not horribly messy. His leather jacket is usually hanging off the dresser or door handle. Sweatshirts of different colors are littering the floor in a collective pile. It looks like a normal teenage boys room, really. It just feels very ‘Conner’.

First, he pushes the glass back into place in the wall, then he takes a few steps back. You throw him a smirk, nudging your head to encourage him to do the thing.

Conner’s eyes heat up. Little at first, as a soft yellow. Then into an all consuming scarlet that hisses out in two beams meeting in the middle between them. They move in a circle around the pane until you can’t even tell it was ever not there, and the wind you once heard no longer exists. The wall is perfectly in tact.

“Thank you, Superboy,” you tell him, tone laced overly sweet. Your hands, freezing from the cold even through the gloves of your costume, wrap around Conner’s upper arm.

“Yeah,” he tosses, back, voice low. His cheeks are turning pink.

You unhook your arms and saunter over to his mattress. As you throw yourself on and relax as you sink into the pillows, you let your eyes close. “You’re lucky I like you so much,” you tease. “Mm, do you know a lot of people who would climb up the Tower for you? I don’t.”

Upon hearing him take a single step forward, one eye pops open. “I know you missed me,” you continue.

Conner lays himself on the bed beside you, hands behind his bed with his arms bent. You turn to face him, propping your head up with your palm.

“You never answer my texts,” Conner says, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You text me?” you smirk, watching Superboys eyes sink close as he releases a sigh of defeat.

Your left leg slips over Conner’s hips. Then you pull your whole body up and over into a straddle over him, looking down at him. He’s handsome in the way nobody can argue with, so perfect and soft and structured. When you squint, he looks like Superman. But Conner’s not Superman, he’s better. You can’t explain why, or how, but he just is.

You place your palms forward on his chest at first, then backwards, behind your back, on Conner’s thighs. Your chest puffs out at the slight change of position.

Below you, the boy bites his lower lip softly in thought for a second. “What if I got you a phone?” Conner asks you. His light eyes holding yours through thick, dark lashes. “Just so you can text me back sometimes?”

“Us?” you gasp with wide eyes. “Talking? During the daytime?”

Conner glances away. “Message received. Very funny. Forget it.”

“I’m messing with you,” you promise with a smile. “Loosen up Super-Annoy.”

“So you’ll let me get you one?” Conner pushes himself up with a snap, eyes wide with some kind of excitement.

Well… would you? You haven’t had a lot of long term partners, if any. Your time with Conner has been the longest with anyone, and he’s not even really your boyfriend. He’s just… you know… the guy you kissed on a rooftop one night. The guy who once surprised you with a cone of ice cream, again on a night time rooftop, whilst you were sitting on the side of the building to watch the city below. The guy who remembered your birthday, the guy who keeps sending you the many, many texts reminding you that you can watch your favorite show on the TV in the tower. The guy who once lied to get you to ice skate with him.

Something about Conner has been enough to keep you hooked for months and months, always coming back. Sneaking into the Tower, taking more and more trips to Jump City, keeping notes of events throughout your week to tell him about when you see him.

How silly. Never giving the time of day to any other partner of yours, but for Conner? Conner has gotten at least eight months of it.

“I’ll think about it,” you roll your eyes.

“You promise?” Conner urges.

“Yes. Jeez, I promise. I will think about letting you get me a phone that only you have the number to.”

“Please don’t laugh at me about this.”

“I’m not laughing at you.”

“It feels like it.”

“Connor,” you clasp a hand on his shoulder, pushing back laughter. “Have I ever laughed at you?”

“W- Is that- is that a serious question?” Conner’s eyebrows raise.

“Get up,” you roll your neck. “I want to change positions.”

The boy below you shifts. For a quick moment, something pokes between your hips from underneath. Your pupils dilate in response, but by the time they finish, the movement has ceased. “Tell me about your day.”

“I want to lay down,” you say as you stretch. “I just scaled up the side of the skyscraper-”

“You love it.”

“-and it was oh, so cold. I’m tired.”

“That’s not your day.”

You just stare at him expectantly, not quite sure what it is you’re waiting for.

“I can’t get up. You’re sitting on top of me,” Conner concedes. “You chose to be up there.”

“Prove it,” you challenge.

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy below you hisses as if annoyed. “I get it,” he says, but his arms are already snaking around your torso to pull you close and slowly pull you into a new position.

You lay on your side, back against Conner’s broad chest. His arms stay wrapped around your middle as he curls up against you on instinct, legs quick to tangle with your own. You know he must really be interested in you if he’s not going to mention that your ‘work’ shoes are still on while in bed.

“You’re an ass,” he mutters into your hair.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ha,” you chuckle once. “Douche.”

“Please tell me about your day now?” you hear Conner almost plead. “Please?”

One of your hands, your right one, rests on top of Conner’s against your stomach. “Oh, you know. The usual. I helped out a small jewelry store today, snuck into a big building, currently hiding from Nightwing- you know how it is.”

“There wasn’t much crime today. I mostly just stayed in. You know that big building you snuck into?”

“Such a douche,” you breathe.

“Jealous much?” Superboy rumbles against your ear.

“I’m gonna tell Dick,” you tell him. “I’ll send an anonymous tip that one of the Titan’s is a big poop face.”

Conner puts his whole face in your hair. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not fair you guys get a whole building to yourselves. What are you even using half these floors for? People in Gotham are struggling.” You frown. “Well, except for Wayne. But you know what? He’s a douche too. You’d get along.”

Conner squeezes you once. Then you feel him still from behind you, not even breathing. And then-

“Move in then.”

At once, your brows furrow. “What?”

Your companion squeezes you once more. “Move in. Move in with me. In the Tower.”

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times, eyes looking around. You can’t see Conner, but you can feel him out. His eyes are closed, still inhaling the scent of you shamelessly. It’s hard for people to catch you off guard, not just like this, but at all. You just have that sarcastic, witty, sultry reputation. And for him- Super-Annoy, of all people- to just throw you off so easily?

“I’m not a Titan,” you decide on explaining, almost asking.

“Become one, then.”

“I don’t have the money to move in. The rent must be crazy.”

“I’ll pay for you.”

“Conner,” you swallow. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not joking.” His head pops up. When you turn yours a little, you can look up at him, and he can look down at you. “Move into the Tower.”

Now your eyes are wide, and his are relaxed. No, Conner’s are focused, drilling into your own. “I’m... hardly Titan’s material.”

This was true. You’ve been skirting the gray line far longer than you’ve known Superboy, and he’s been super since the beginning of his creation. The first time you’d met was about ten seconds before you’d robbed a bank and sent him a wink before disappearing.

“You just told me, not five minutes ago, that you helped a small business. Helping people is what heroes are all about. You can do this, Y/N. You are Titan’s material.”

Shit. He’s right.

“Why not?” Conner questions.

“I... um...”

You’ve never lived with another person before. Your family, once upon a time, sure. Not friends. Not Dick Grayson, or Kori, or Rachel fucking Roth. And certainly not Superboy- Super-Annoy. Not someone you have a ‘thing’ with. What would that mean for the two of you? And when things go terribly, terribly wrong, what then?

Gotta’ think fast.

Your face is wiped clean, replaced by your signature smirk. “Get me a phone first. Then I’ll consider it.”

Conner doesn’t budge though. You wonder if X-Ray vision can see through lies too. “I mean it,” the boy tells you. “I want you here.”

“I have to survive the night in the building with boy prodigy and star flame.”

“Starfire.”

“Whatever. I have to do that first. There’s a reason we sneak me in, you know.”

Your free hand reaches up and cups Conner’s cheek without you telling it to. You ask your brain why, but yet, your palm doesn’t move. It feels over Conner’s cheekbones, encouraging you to look deeper into his somehow soft eyes. Your fingertips can even feel his hair, which is in need of a wash, as they get comfortable.

“For you,” you finish the sentiment, voice now genuine- also not predicted. “Sneaking in for you.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a secret,” the boy above you whispers, pouring his entire heart into it.

You answer with a snort.

If anything, Conner’s the secret. If he had his way, the two of you would probably be on your honeymoon at this moment. Hell, your whole relationship and subsequent marriage would be a honeymoon. You’re the one letting him follow you around. You’re the one never giving him just what he wants.

But then again, you’re the one who keeps coming back. Conner’s the one that never left.

“Trust me,” you nod with a humored grin. “I don’t.”

Conner sighs and falls back down to rest behind you. “Good.”

Besides his breathing, then there is silence.

Really? Telling you to move in? Of course it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to him. Of course he has the solution to all the reasons why not. Your fairly certain that Conner hasn’t thought about this until mentioning it, but even then, how did he have all the answers so fast? Where would you stay? With him? Sandwiched between Conner and Wally West playing video games for the rest of your life? Dying after Donna Troy catches you accidentally stealing her lunch?

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Conner begins, “but you should really stay the night.”

In response, you practically burst. “You hate being told what to do!” you say as you squirm in his arms. “Now you’re giving me suggestions?”

Conner sits up again so he can look down at you with a little frown. Luckily, it’s too nice of a view to be really scared of anything he could do. “Shh! You’re gonna get caught, Y/N.” Then Superboy’s eyes widen a little. “If you lived here, you wouldn’t have to be so quiet, either. You could just come through the front door.”

“Oh my God,” you squeeze your eyes closed. “Conner...”

One battle at a time.

“Fine,” you begrudge. “I’ll stay the night.”

Conner tightens his grip around your form happily in response. “Will you need any help in the morning?”

“No. No, I got it.”

Silence.

Say it. Say it. Say it.

“Conner? I, uh...”

Say it.

“I don’t have any sleeping clothes,” you lie.

“Sleeping?” you hear the boy behind you whisper. “I didn’t think we were going to be sleeping.”

“Now who’s going to get us in trouble?” you smirk. “Seriously though. I’ve been wearing my suit all day.”

“I can get you out of it.”

“You can’t just see through it?” you question. “Don’t you have X-Ray vision?”

Conner groans. “You’re ruining it.”

You smile. Conner’s the only partner of yours you realize you’re actually happy to be around. “I think you just want us to get caught.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Yayyy. Request finished. Next I have a Reverse Flash request, and then I should be good with the DC requests for now. Other than that I have some Jason Todd things, something for Damian and 2 fics for a character I haven’t written for before but are looking pretty good. I hope this satisfied the prompt that I was given in the request. Let me know anything you want or whatever.

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en-logs · 3 years

Text

DON'T STEREOTYPE ME!

special chapter two ㅡ the hidden clues, explained.

warnings: please read the smau till chapter 23 before reading this segment, thank you.

click here for the masterlist with all chapters

before we start, i would like to say that there may be more hidden clues in the chapters but this is to highlight the more obvious ones and how it adds to the identity.

1. prologue - sunghoon was not mad at y/n following jay but he found it funny which explains his behavior in the chapter. he then proceeds to say he has "ur mom" as his bitch and y/n's second priv is @yourmom which will soon fall under the line that y/n is a "milf" to sunghoon as she's older than him.

2. episode two - y/n's "My Iced Lemon Fruit tea" = MILF. and sunghoon proceeds to tweet "im a motherfucker" from kanye west's remix of drunk in love. they planned it after a night together - where y/n came over to sunghoon's apartment in the end of chapter one.

3. episode four - y/n and hoon shading each other on twitter once again with the "obsessed with me i think" tweets and y/n says "not him tf" and beomgyu thought it was an indirect to him instead as he knew about their friendship.

4. episode five - yes. sunghoon was texting y/n while she was with heeseung and the texts are not that wild but it will be released shortly. and yes, sunghoon referred to heeseung as - that thing.

5. episode six - sunghoon did not join the guys as he already made plans with y/n. she then posts a picture of them both together but with a pie sticker on his face. beomgyu knows.

6. episode seven - sunghoon wears a flannel where y/n later posts a matching one too, on the same day, which explains sunoo's tweet of seeing two people on campus with flannels although nobody wears them anymore. heeseung then joins the train thinking it was normal since two of his friends who supposedly do not know each other, are wearing plaids.

7. episode eight - jay says "ur mom" is pretty to sunghoon but he does not know what they have going on so it was pretty coincidental. sunghoon then goes saying "no" when taehyun asked the question but it was just a teasing reply as taehyun knows (shown later).

8. episode nine - hoon then says "ew why was she on top of you then" when heeseung was with his classmate but he said that as he knew y/n was hurt by it. somi then goes saying "are you hearing yourself" to y/n as she knows y/n does the same thing as heeseung but worse (banging his bestfriend).

9. episode ten - "did you manage to read it? (no) hm... good. for you i mean" sunghoon did not want heeseung to read whatever was on y/n's screen as he truly does care for heeseung a little bit from the other panels where he gave him advice. he then proceeds to say y/n looks like his foot as a tease.

10. episode eleven - hoon mentions that heeseung blew his chances, but what chances? only he would know as y/n most likely vented to him about heeseung's actions.

11. episode twelve - yes, sunghoon was wearing white. just like the other guys who did as well, but in the picture y/n posted, the material and color is more towards sunghoon's outfit - creamier white. beomgyu accidentally slipped out that y/n was with felix and sunghoon as he was a lil tipsy but they were both talking to felix so that they could borrow a room.

12. episode thirteen - "i woke up with your mom next to me" by sunghoon. which later revealed for the first time that y/n's second priv's handle is @yourmom. beomgyu also mentioned that y/n hooked up with "him" at the party, because he saw.

13. episode fourteen - taehyun and soobin are laughing at baby clothes because they were making fun of sunghoon for it. (sunghoon showed them the conversation where y/n told him she was late as a joke).

14. episode fifteen - sunghoon comforts y/n but he knows its also their fault because heeseung was getting back at her (for no reason) but like.. yeah.. and he knows y/n likes heeseung. and tells her its a mutual feeling but y/n doesn't believe whatever sunghoon says.

15. episode sixteen - hoon gives hee advice on the matter and he truly wishes that heeseung acts right one day, by reading the chapter you can figure out the multiple clues for example how y/n would be mad and how shes on her period.

16. episode eighteen - taehyun replied under heeseung's tweet saying that they were beating his ass up in the priv qrts. (spoiler: he knows as he follows y/n's second priv).

17. episode nineteen - jake mentions "is he not coming over tonight, i can replace him for u" which hints about settings. coincidentally, jake did replace him that night.

18. episode twenty - beomgyu asks "which one" to taehyun when talking about y/n's man as they knew about it. but sunghoon is being labeled secretly as y/n's man as a joke. jay also mentions that sunghoon tried to gnaw on the doorknob while drunk and hoon had previously mentioned in chapter nineteen that he does not get drunk easily (lie).

19. episode twenty one - somi and beomgyu agrees that heeseung is gullible (from the fact that two of his friends are seeing one another behind him). "without me???" when y/n told hoon about hooking up with jake. hoon likes jake (lovingly), he thinks he's a nice person. hoon got nervous and anxious when jay texted him, thinking they might have been caught by the second person y/n doesn't want to know. sunghoon then accidentally tweets out that y/n is a slut, which is a joke as y/n and jake did not invite him to have fun with them. taehyun and soobin was confused as well as it was on hoon's public instead of his second priv.

20. episode twenty two - y/n wasn't mad as she knew it was a joke, which is why she did not seem to care about it. hoon pushes jay to make a move on y/n as he knows y/n is interested in jay based on her second priv and what she says to him. hoon and y/n then argue on twitter as a form of entertainment for themselves - fake fighting for no reason. they were just teasing one another which may come out as serious to those who don't know, aka jay and heeseung.

21. special chapter one - y/n has a hedgehog as she is friends with soobin as well, so she might have came over with hoon one day to play with odi, jay was probably at the jayhoon apartment that day so they decided to meet at soobin's place instead (soobin lives alone). public enemy #1 is sunghoon based on the pfp and user. y/n was talking about jay in her tweet which later leads on to jay mentioning that he is always locked in his room at night by sunghoon so that he wouldn't see y/n.

22. episode twenty three - y/nhoon were beefing on twitter but their friends aren't too focused on it, why? because they knew they were just messing around and sunoo wished it was a real fight too, with the rest encouraging more. soobin also mentions "you two are embarrassing me" which is self explanatory.

ㅡ

so! that's the end of phase one!! with all of the important clues that one may find, did you manage to guess any? stay tuned for more updates when heeseung finally finds out, how jay would react, and how the story will end off.

and i would like to apologise for making this story too detailed so far, but i hope you guys had fun reading and will continue to read more!!

authors note:

here u go.. i hope u r happy.. and reread the fic if you need to, to piece everything up together !!

updates will most likely be on the weekends from now on as uni is starting again

please ask if more clarification is needed!

please re-blog with tags or simply interact! thank you for reading <3 ask anything :D

taglist (open): @giyyuzz @jongsaengseong @hobistigma @sunshine-skz @p2arks @darkheartpeace @c9tnoos @hoonbokki @papiibuprofen @acciomylove @datiny-zen @shigamiryuk @luvrseung @fiantomartell @chuntians @yn-dere @nyfwyeonjun @mykalon @yurazuyori @myouikomi @yizhoutv @theskzvibe @sunarindior @softforqiankun @itsyaapollochild @leilaidk @babygay-stay @hrrhmay-primaryblog @kac-chowsballs @hibuki-chan @hxxsng @w3bqrl @grassbutneo @enhacolor @sleepyenhasasha @lost-leopard-beanie @vely-jake @wondering-out-loud @softbaekhours @ily-cuz-i @ncityy04 @heeseungblues @daintysan @roseless1213 @xoxodinaryheroes (ask or comment!)

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writing-blog-iguess · 3 years

Text

Harley Quinn

Summery: The batfamily hears three stories about batmom and Harley. How they met, how they started dating, and how they ended.

Warning: fluff, angst.

A/N: This bish is 4847 words. I did not mean to write that much.

Man, the amount of love I got from Stories...I'm so happy people enjoyed it. So, I hope you enjoy this one just as much.

Feedback is welcome! And feel free to let me know who or what kind of story of Batmom you want to see next.

-------

There were only two weeks left of summer, and she wanted to move onto campus as soon as possible. But her friend, Selina, had made it a little difficult for her. On the first day the campus was allowing their students to come, Selina had come over and stopped her from packing. And they spent the day together shopping, seeing a movie and eating. Selina ended up crashing at her place after they had binged a show.

When she started packing the next day, Selina did the same. But after a promise of hanging out when she was settled in her dorms, Selina conceded and helped with the packing. And after some whining and pizza, Selina came with her to campus to help as well.

Struggling to keep the heavy box in her hands, she made her way towards her dorm. “You can help me, you know,” she grunted, shifting the box as it was slipping out of her arms.

“I am,” Selina said, holding up a couple of garbage bags full of clothes. “My hands are just full to help you carry your box.”

“You’re funny,” she deadpanned. Selina flashed her a smile, to which she returned one of her own.

“And that’s why you love me.”

“No, no I don’t think that’s it,” she mused, looking at each dorm number. “I think I love your cat more. And that’s why we’re friends.”

Selina gasped mockingly, and bumped her shoulder. “I knew it!” She laughed just as she found her dorm room.

Fishing out her key from her pocket, she handed it to Selina and waited until Selina opened the door. The minute she walked through the door, she was eloped in a hug. It caught her by surprise that she dropped the box she was holding.

“Hiya! I’m your new roommate!”

“And they were roommates,” Dick gasped out, interrupting the story.

“Oh my god, they were roommates,” Tim finished, and three out of the four boys burst out laughing.

“You two are hilarious,” she said, slumping into her chair. They had just finished dinner when the boys started bombarding her with questions about her and Harley. And after teasing them a little about which story. She started with how she met her ex-fiancé.

“Are you two done?” Bruce asked, and the laughter slowly downed a little. Until they caught each other’s eyes, and it started again.

Damian rolled his eyes, and turned to his mother. “I didn’t know you and Selina were in a relationship,” he said, and that had caused Dick, Jason and Tim to stop and look at her.

“No, no we weren’t dating,” she answered, shaking her head. “I didn’t know my sexuatilty until I started dating Harley.”

“And how long did that take?” Jason asked, rolling his cup on the table.

She blew out a puff of air and sighed. “When we were twenty-one. Even then I needed help.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one,” Bruce said with a smile. She flushed in embarrassment and looked away before recalling the story.

——

“Pumpkin,” her roommate sang from the other side of the room. She hummed, blinking at her homework trying to keep awake. She was currently laying on her stomach with her chin sitting on her hand. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at it for hours.”

“Pft, I’m fine,” she answered, though the words were starting to blur together. “Hey!” she said, as Harley yanked the book from her. “I need that.”

“And you need a break,�� she pressed, closing the book with a snap. “Come on Pumpkin, let’s get something to eat.”

She pouted trying to grab her textbook. Harley giggled and held it out of her reach. “Harley,” she whined, “the test I'm studying for is supposed to cost half of my grade.”

“You should know that taking care of your body is more important than school, doctor,” Harley teased. She stuck her tongue out, causing Harley to poke it. “Come on, we’ll go to your favourite café.”

She lit up and quickly got out of bed, almost tripping on her feet doing so. Harley laughed and tossed the book onto the bed. “You gotta be more careful, pumpkin.” She made a face, and grabbed her stuff before the two of them left their apartment.

She looped her arm through Harley’s as they walked. Talking about everything and nothing that came to mind. On occasion, she would check her phone, hoping for any messages from Bruce. But there were none.

She hasn’t spoken to Bruce since the last time they hung out, and she wondered if it was something that she did. Though the thought was ridiculous. They’ve only met up a handful of times since he’d been back. And even then, she couldn’t think of a reason why he was avoiding her.

The only thing she could think of was their first conversation they had together. But that was back when he first arrived in Gotham.

Bruce had found the apartment she was sharing with Harley, and decided to pay her a visit before the tabloids caught wind of him being back.

It had caught her by surprise when Harley called, saying there was a billionaire holding pizza. Confused on what she meant, she rounded the corner to find Bruce Wayne standing in her hallway.

After giving him a hug, and a little catch up, the three of you spent the night hanging out. And it felt like nothing had changed between the two of you.

It wasn’t until Harley had gone to bed, that Bruce told you everything that happened since leaving Gotham when he was fourteen. He told you how his training had gone, and all the people he’s met.

It was one thing reading about them through Bruce’s letters. But it was a different experience hearing them from Bruce. When he had finished, he told her it was time to start fixing Gotham his way.

With a sigh, she had hoped that he had changed his mind. Instead of talking him out of it, she suggested waiting a little bit before doing so. Make Bruce Wayne into a public figure, or more then he already is. And then have his second persona make an appearance. Only so people didn’t connect that the two were related.

That had been two months ago. And sure, she’s been busy with school and midterms were just around the corner, and Bruce was busy running a company and….well, being a playboy from what she’s read in magazines. She didn’t read the articles, it hurt a little reading them.

And he was also busy with being Batman. She laughed at the name the media had dubbed him, it almost made her call him up just to tease him about it. But she refrained from doing so. She was unsure where she fit in his new life, and at this point she was too afraid of the answer to ask.

When they arrived at the café, she found a table for them while Harley ordered.

Harley looked over the rim of the coffee cup in her hand when her friend sighed again. “You’re in love with Bruce!” Harley accused.

She dropped her bagel on her plate and stared at Harley in shock. “I am not!”

“You totally are! You keep checking your phone like your love sick, waiting for someone to call you.”

“I am not in love with Bruce,” she stuttered out, “why would I be? He left to go to school abroad, and shows up eight years later! And so what if I thought about him during those years, and was worried about him. That’s what friends do, they worry about them. It’s not like I noticed how much he’s changed or dream about holding his hand or...or kissing him or…or...” she trailed off as she thought back to all the times her heart hammered in her chest when he smiled at her.

Or all the times Bruce made her blush. She thought back to how she smiled when she saw Bruce’s letter in the mail, or how happy she felt as she read them. Or how relieved she felt when she saw Bruce in her apartment or how hurt she was when she saw him with different girls every night.

Then she thought about all that when she was with Harley. Could she be in love with Harley too? But she quickly dismissed it, thinking it wasn’t possible.

She slumped into her chair as Harley set her mug down, and smirked at her in satisfaction. “Holy hell, I’m in love with Bruce Wayne.”

“There it is,” Harley said, giggling as she received a glare. “You’ve known Bruce since you guys were little, how is it only now that you're realizing this?”

“I don’t…” she trailed off, hands picking up her cup. She twirled it around the table as she tried to come up with the right words, “I’m not...when I can’t pick up the cues when it comes to stuff like that.”

“So someone has to tell you that they love you. Like your parents loving you,” Harley mused, she shrugged.

“I know they do and I can see that they love me. But for whatever reason, when it comes to romantic feelings, I have a blind eye,” she explained, letting the cup go in favour of pulling apart her muffin. She huffed out a laugh. “It’s funny. Back in high school there was this guy who asked me out on a date. But he didn’t use those words, he used ‘wanna hang out?’

“I said yes. It wasn’t until he kissed me that it was starting to click. Even then I didn’t fully understand. Selina told me what it was that I knew. I was so embarrassed I couldn‘t face him. I feel like there’s something wrong with me.”

Harley leaned over and took her hands, she stilled her hands and her eyes flitted up to Harley. And her heart stuttered as Harley looked at her. “Nothing’s wrong with you pumpkin. People process things differently, you just happen to need someone to tell you.”

Relief washed over her and she smiled. “Thanks, Hars.” Harley hummed and leaned back, letting go of her hand. She missed the warmth of Haley’s hands, but didn’t think anything of it, especially when she noticed a twinkle in Harley's eyes.

“So, are you going to tell Brucie?” Harley teased, she made a face and shook her head.

“No, I will not,” she said.

“But he might love you back!” Harley exclaimed, “pumpkin, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He looks at you like you hung the moon every night.”

“Even if that’s true, I don’t think it’ll work. At least not right now,” she mumbled, and quickly added when Haley gave her a confused look, “he’s not interested in anything serious right now.”

Harley nodded in understanding, and she looked away when she saw pity in Harley's eyes.

That weekend, she found herself in the school library with Harley and Jonathan doing homework. Harley had just left for drinks, leaving the two of them alone.

Jonathan looked up from his homework and studied his friend. She hunched over her books and tapped her pencil on her head as she was going over a question.

“Are you and Harley dating?” Jonathan blurted out. She froze and lifted her head to look at him in surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her reaction, and stifled a laugh. “I think you heard me.”

“Oh I heard. But what made you come to that conclusion?” she clarified, squinting her eyes at him.

“The way you two act around each other,” he explained, “you're all in love and shit. It’s a wonder you haven’t kissed yet.”

“I don’t….but I can’t….” she trailed off. The words weren’t coming and she wasn’t quite sure if she did or not. “Friends can act like that platonically!”

“That’s true. But with you two, it’s hard to tell. You both have heart eyes every time you either talk about each other, or just being in the same room.”

She stayed quiet, she didn’t have anything to say.

“You know, when Harley told me you process feelings differently than most people, I thought she was joking,” he mused, this time chuckling.

“It’s great to know you talk about me,” she deadpanned, setting down her pencil.

“But I’m serious, do you like her or not?” he asked, and she let her head drop on her textbook and groaned.

“I don’t know. The other day, Harley helped me discover I’m in love with my childhood best friend. And now you're making me question my feelings for Harley.”

Jonathan held up his hands in surrender, though she wasn’t paying attention. “Wasn’t my intent, I just figured you needed to know.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly, and lifted her hand and flipped him off. He laughed and gently patted her head.

“I’ll ask a question or two, maybe it’ll help.”

She nodded but kept her head on the table. Jonathan's smile grew wider, enjoying this a little bit too much.

“When you see her, what do you do?”

She took a moment to ponder the question. “My heart starts to beat faster and I can’t help but think how pretty she is. And I get all flustered when she gets really close or she gives me a compliment. And when she’s happy and smiling and laughing, and my butterflies explode in my stomach when that happens because I did that. And sometimes, when she’s pouting or just sad, I just want to pull her into a kiss.”

Jonathan raised an eye at her statement, and had no doubt that she was blushing. “What about Bruce?”

“The same thing! He winks my way and the next thing I know I’m a blushing mess. And when he gives me a certain look, it’s like I gave him everything and I melt and just want to kiss his stupid face! And I hate him for that, but not really and….hhhhh!”

“Damn,” Jonathan huffed out, staring at her. “You have it bad for both of them.”

“But I can’t love two people at once!” she exclaimed, getting shushed by other students. She paid them no mind, head racing on what she should do.

“Who says?” Jonathan asked, and she paused to think about it. “There's no rule saying you have to like one person at the time,” he continued when she didn’t answer. “Now the question is who are you going to pick? Bruce or Harley?”

“What if they both don’t love me?” she whispered, lifting her head up slightly. “What if it’s all in my head and they laugh if I tell them?”

“I don’t know about Bruce, but Harley won’t,” he answered, going back to his homework, “trust me.”

She spent the next week pondering over her conversations with Harley and Jonathan. And there were a few things she’s discovered.

She’s bisexual.

She’s really bad at feelings and seeing them for what they are. Though this wasn’t anything new, still she hated that she needed help when it comes to emotions.

If she did choose Bruce over Harley, it wouldn’t have worked out. Not only because of him being Batman, but because she didn’t see it as a long term relationship. And she didn’t want that.

And if she chose Harley over Bruce, she didn’t want to make Harley feel like she was second pick. She didn’t want that either.

By the weekend, she still doesn’t know what to do.

Sighing, she fell on her bed. She stared at the ceilings and groaned, pressing her palms to her eyes. “Why is this hard?”

“I don’t know pumpkin, maybe I can help?” Harley suggested, startling her. She sat up quickly and turned to see Harley leaning against the doorframe.

“Help me with what?” she asked, nervously laughing. Harley smiled and walked further in the room.

“Whatever you’re having trouble with,” Harley answered.

She sighed and fell onto the bed again, she took a pillow and hugged it to her chest. “I don’t think this is something you can help with,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

She felt the bed dip, and felt Harley shift around until she stopped. “I could listen to you rant about it?”

She hummed, but shook her head. “It’s something I need to figure out.”

Silence fell around them as she thought. Harley brought her hand over her face and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She tensed at the sudden touch, but soon relaxed into it.

“Does it have something to do with what you and Jonathan were talking about last week?” Harley asked after a moment.

Her eyes flew open and she stared at Harley, panicking a little. If Harley knew, there’s nothing she could say that wouldn’t be a lie.

“But I…did he tell you?” she asked, Harley nodded. She groaned and stuffed her face into the mattress. “Damnit.”

Harley giggled and slowly moved her face so they could look at each other. “If it helps any, I love you too.”

She flushed, and looked anywhere but Harley. “But I don’t want to make you feel like a second choice. I don’t want you to resent me because you know I love Bruce too.”

“Hey I won’t,” Harley reassured. Biting her lip, she shook her head. Harley sighed, and moved to press her forehead against hers. “Can I tell you a secret? I loved you before I knew you loved Bruce, and I still love you knowing that. I just hope you can give me a chance.”

She studied Harley for a moment before closing the distance and kissed her.

——

“Ew! Mom! Gross! We don’t need to hear about that!” Dick interrupted. She looked up to see her boys looking at her in disgust. Jason and Tim gagged mockingly as Dick shuddered.

“What? It was just a kiss,” she answered, amused.

“Yeah but you kissed Harley. And that means you’ve done more than kissing,” Jason said.

“You knew this when your father told you I was engaged to her.”

“It’s one thing thinking about it, it’s a whole different thing to hear it from you, Mom,” Tim said, leaning back into his chair.

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Shrugging, she picked up her glass and took a sip.

“So Harley figured out you loved me before you did? And this after meeting me once,” Bruce asked, amused. She felt her cheeks burn and looked away.

“Wasn’t my proudest moment, but yes she did,” she said with a shrug.

“And she was okay with it?”

She nodded, smiling a little at the memory. “Yeah. She didn’t seem to mind too much about it. But I didn’t spend too much time being hung up on Bruce. I was too busy with Har-”

“Ma!” Jason exclaimed, stopping her from finishing the sentence.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything bad!” she defended.

“You went to school with Crane?” Damian asked. She turned her attention to the youngest and nodded.

“We had a few classes together, and Harley just sort of adopted him into the friend group,” she mused.

“What I can’t get over, is the fact that Crane had to tell you about your feelings for Harley,” Dick put out.

“Like I said, I have a hard time deciphering emotions. Especially when it comes to romantic feelings. But once I know, then I’m okay.”

“How long were you together before getting engaged?” Damian asked, though it was still hard to believe his mother had someone before Bruce.

“And who popped the question?”

She looked at the clock and back to the boys. “Doesn't the patrol start soon?” she asked. The boys looked at Bruce with their best puppy eyes. Well, Dick, Jason and Tim did, Damian seemed indifferent but Bruce could tell he wanted to hear the story as well.

“If it’s okay with your mother, we can listen to one more story,” he said, and she raised an eyebrow at her husband. “What?”

“And I thought I couldn’t say no,” she said with a mumble.

“Shut up,” he said, but smiled slightly.

“So Ma, what’s the story?”

Her hand went up to her necklace and started playing with it as she thought back. “We’ve been together for almost eight years before I asked her.”

——

She fell on the couch once she got home from the hospital. It had been a taxing day, and all she wanted to do was curl up with Harley and sleep until the morning. But they had dinner plans they needed to get to, and if everything turned out as planned, she and Harley would be engaged.

Over the years of dating, conversation of marriage would come up. Whether it be just then asking about it, or their friends. They both wanted it, but they silently agreed that they wouldn’t take it seriously until they both finished school.

Harley had already finished her last year of residency, and she was one you last year. Granted, she still had a month left, but she figured it would still count.

“Pumpkin, I’m home,” Harley called as she walked in.

“Living room,” she answered back. A moment later, Harley walked in the room and plopped beside her. Harley laid her head on her lap and sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Tiring day?”

Harley nodded and closed her eyes. “I know we had plans to go out, but can we stay in? Arkham really took me out.”

She scrunched her nose, her hands stopped moving. “I thought you didn’t start there until next week?”

“I did, but something happened with the inmates,” Harley answered.

“And they needed a psychiatrist?”

“Apparently some of the inmates needed help and they couldn’t wait until next week,” Harley said, and sighed happily when she resumed playing with Harley’s hair. “So can we stay in?”

“Yeah, we can. We can order take out and watch a movie or something,” she mused, trying to think of a new plan. “What do you want?”

“Chinese.”

She smiled and reached over, grabbing her phone and ordering food. Once finished, she set the phone before turning back to Harley. She stared at her loving, watching as Harley was slowly falling asleep.

“You’re staring,” Harley mumbled with a smile.

“I can’t help, you’re just too gorgeous to look at anything else,” she teased. Harley blushed and snuggled into her legs.

“Shut up.”

Thinking it’s the perfect time, she went for it. “Marry me?” Harley’s eyes flew open, and she quickly sat down and looked at her.

“What?”

“Marry me,” she repeated, smiling at the bewildered look Harley was giving her. “I know we talked about it a few times. And since I have a month left of residency, I figured why not. So, marry me?”

Harley looked at her for a minute before smiling widely, and threw her arms around her, laughing. “Of course I will, pumpkin!” Harley said, kissing her all over her face.

And just like that they were engaged.

As the months went by, they planned a wedding. They had decided who was going to be in the wedding party, where the venue would be, and who was going to cater for them. They just needed to book everything, but they weren’t going to do so until they picked out the wedding day.

And for a while everything was perfect. Up until Harley started seeing Joker as a patient. She didn’t see it, not a first. She took it as Harley having bad days or long tiring days at Arkham. And with doctor patient confidentiality, Harley couldn’t talk about their problems.

But Harley could tell her how the day went. If it was bad, she’d drop it and offer to make Harley's favourite foods.

Then Harley started to become distant. She would come home later than normal, and would snap for no reason. She had tried to get Harley to talk to her, but she wouldn’t. She kept saying she was fine and it had been a long day. It was worrying.

All at once, it stopped. Harley stopped talking to her, and stopped coming home.

She was out of her mind, worrying for Harley. She hoped her fiancée would come home. It was to the point that she went out and looked for Harley.

But Bruce had stopped her before she could leave the apartment.

She had found him waiting in her living room after a long shift at the hospital. It had startled her seeing Bruce dressed as Batman standing there, he cowl down.

She was about to greet him, but the sad, pitied expression Bruce had stopped her. “No, don’t…don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, she stepped back. “But something happened to Harley.”

She shook her head frantically, covering her mouth with her hands. “Nononono, she can’t have…please,” she begged, as Bruce wrapped her into a hug when he was close enough.

“I’m sorry, but Joker got into her head,” he started, tightening his grip as she choked back a sob. “Convinced her that they were meant for each other. Made her fall in the chemicals he fell into. She’s alive, but she isn’t Harley anymore. Not the one you knew anyways.”

She broke down crying before Bruce finished his sentence. She clung to him like a lifeline as the words sunk in.

She expected to hear that Harley died, that someone had killed her. Not this. But this? This was so much worse.

——

A heavy silence fell once she finished. She was clutching the ring that was threaded on a chain. It helped keep the tears at bay. She didn’t want to cry, not now, not after so many years.

“The next day, Bruce told me the full story,” she whispered, and grimaced as the fight flashed before her. “We fought. Okay, I yelled and he just took him. I said some things I shouldn’t have and I avoided him for a while.”

“I remember that,” Dick said, leaning onto the table. “Bruce looked heartbroken during that time. And every time I tried to ask what happened, he shut me down. Even at gala’s when you were there, he looked like he wanted to go and talk to you.”

Bruce looked at him in surprise. Dick was only eight when that happened, he didn’t think he was paying attention.

On the other hand, she felt guilt crawling in her stomach, and slouched into her chair. She hid her face in her hands when Dick continued.

“That falling out thing happened for a few years, didn’t it?” he asked. She opted to stay quiet, letting Bruce answer the question.

“Three or four years, yeah.”

Tim was about to ask what had happened, but Jason nudged him and shook his head. Tim gave him a look, and Jason gestured to their mom, practically saying I don’t think she wants to talk about it.

“Sorry for bringing up the past Ummi,” Damian said softly. “We didn’t know.”

Rubbing her face to get rid of stray tears, she dropped her hands onto the table. “That’s okay sweetie. I wouldn’t have told you anything if it still hurts.”

“So, how’d you fix your friendship with Bruce?” Jason asked. She shook her head and stood.

“Bruce can tell you,” she said, stretching, “I have the night shift tonight. And I need to get ready.”

With that she left her boys staring at Bruce, waiting.

“It’s time for patrol,” he gruffed out and followed his wife. The boys groaned, saying that wasn’t fair.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he reached their bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her quickly change and grabbed her stuff before pausing. She clutched her keys and sighed.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” she sighed, dropping her shoulders. “After ten years, it still hurts. Not as much as it did, but still.”

Bruce nodded, and pushed off the frame and wrapped his arms around her. Holding her close. “I’m sorry again for everything.”

“You know I don’t blame you anymore, you don’t need to apologize for it.”

“Feels like I have too. You don’t deserve to have gone through that.”

“No one does but life sucks that way,” she said, giving him a smile. “I have to go.”

Bruce frowned, tightening his hold a little. “I wish you didn’t.”

“I’m a doctor Bruce, but I’ll be careful,” she said, reaching up to kiss him. “You be careful too tonight.” He nodded and dropped his arms and watched as she left the room.

“I love you,” he called. She popped her head back in and smiled.

“I love you too.”

Running out of the manor and to her car, she didn’t notice a figure standing in the distance. Harley signed as she watched, glad that her ex-lover found happiness again. And promised she’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

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goatchulu · 3 years

Text

jealous! lucifer x gender neutral! reader

Genre: fluff, ig? slight smut in the end.

Fandom: obey me!

Prompt: you find yourself in a fake relationship, and now you're introducing your "boyfriend" to the demom brothers. they don't take it so well, especially lucifer.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of harassment and stalking, they make out in the end, reader's gender is unmentioned for your imagination (and inclusion).

lucifer takes another swig of his whisky, a slight burning sensation lingering on his throat. no matter the amount of alcohol he consumed that night, he couldn't escape the bitter feeling that was left inside his chest.

the two of you have been hitting it off pretty well for the past few weeks, if he could say so himself. the harmless complimenting and the subtle glancing had turned into ardent flirting and shows of affection overtime. you two were finally going somewhere with your mutual pinning, or so he thought.

lucifer didn't think his small (not so small) crush on you would lead anywhere, really. nor did he think you would reciprocate his infatuation. but with all the friendly interactions you had of late, anyone would assume you two were together in a romantic light.

now look, lucifer prides himself as a person. he was assertive, efficient, productive, level-headed and the voice of reason when stress is most prominent. but as a lover? lucifer wasn't so sure. he assumed you'd like someone more jolly and eccentric like mammon or someone more confident and charismatic like asmodeus. he didn't expect for you to even spare him a second glance when it came to the dating game. lucifer was a busy man after all, and he wasn't the most expressive when it came to emotions; not very ideal for a lover.

but what lucifer also did not expect was for you to bring home a common demon boy and introduce him as your significant other.

let's just say that all the built up tension and courting were all ruined by a single dinner party.

you had gathered all the demon brothers earlier that morning, claiming you had an important announcement to make. you went as far as inviting diavolo and his loyal butler, barbatos, to spend the evening over for dinner. they thanked you for the invitation, but they unfortunately, could not attend because of their hectic schedules.

lucifer, on the other hand, was more than happy to accept your invitation (though he was quick to cover up the smile he held when you came up to him). seeing as he already lives under the same roof as you, anways. his happiness would soon be diminished and grinded into dirty, pathetic, dust, though.

lucifer's eyes narrow as mammon's loud laughter bounces off the walls of the dining room. lucienne, your "boyfriend", had managed to crack the demon up with one of his silly stories about a strange elderly wizard that sold expensive medication made out of fairy wings that turned out to just be bedazzled dragon fly wings. he worked wonders with the avatar of greed, considering the fact that just a moment ago, mammon was cursing in jealousy and resentment as you sat with your newly introduced boyfriend.

luficer would've told mammon to shut up, but he feared saying something far more vulgar out of anger. the previous tension was already eased into a more domesticated athmosphere (credits to lucienne's charm and humor), lucifer didn't want to ruin dinner for his brothers, and especially not for you.

i mean, lucifer felt betrayed, he felt used and-- and played. how could you lead him on like this? but deep inside, he knew there was something else. he felt disappointed, he felt defeated, he felt crushed, he wished he'd done something sooner before this lucienne stole you away from him.

but anyways, back to the dinner party.

"you seem unusually quiet, lucy." asmo teases from across lucifer's seat. the phrase seems to capture everyone's attention, all eyes now on the grimacing and glaring lucifer.

"asmo's right, you haven't uttered a word since lucienne arrived, lucifer. is something wrong?" you chime in, causing lucifer to perk up. the thought of you worrying about his state sent sparks into his heart, but they were quick to disappear when lucienne asks him the same question.

"i'm fine." he replies to your concern, unable to hide the venom that strung on to his words. this only causes asmodeus to snicker, and leviathan to sink deeper into his seat. everyone else watches in concern as lucifer downs another glass of demom whiskey. you're about to ask him again, unsure about his reply, but he stops you before you could even form a word.

"i said i'm fine."

the air is tense, until eventually, mammon gasps out of nowhere. "don't tell me! lucifer is jealous!!~" he repeats in a sing song manner, only irking lucifer even further. no one else speaks up, the whole situation akward enough.

after a while, though, lucienne speaks up. he gestures at mammon, especially. hoping to stop the demon from escalating the situation. "hey mammon, wanna hear about that one time i accidentally professed my love for my eight grade math teacher?" mammon only settles back into his seat, ready for another laughing fit. the avatar of pride snaps at this, slamming his fists down the table before abruptly excusing himself with a "i have something to do."

he spares you one last glance. his heart aching with guilt from the way you had lowered your head in shame. lucifer didn't want to make you feel like he owned you, or that you weren't allowed to be with someone else... he just, he has enough reason to justify his anger right now and he really wants to dwell in it. he turns his head away from you, biting his lip to contain the guilt and pain that was threatening to seep out. he doesn't turn to look back as he walks away from the dining room in long and rushed strides.

lucifer walks down the dark hallways of lamentation, familiar with every nook and cranny the mansion had. he sighs in relief as his palm reaches out for a familiar door. it creaks as lucifer walks into his room, sounding just as glum as lucifer is.

he heads straight to his paperwork, silently hoping that they would provide him some sort of comfort. he tries to focus on anything but the thought of you or your unavailability, his mind barely processing any of the words that were printed out in front of him. he groans, his hands pulling on his jet black hair in frustration.

i mean, he should've expected this. lucienne was everything lucifer thought you would love. funny outgoing, caring, expressive, charismatic, a smooth talker and he looked at you with utmost respect and admiration. i mean, who in their right mind would choose old-schooled lucifer over the flawless lucienne?

you deserve lucienne and although lucifer thinks that no one in the three realms could ever deserve to call you theirs, he still thinks that lucienne is more deserving of you than lucifer could ever be. what were you doing to the poor demon? he was never one to admit defeat like this, and he especially wasn't the type of person that'd lower themself like this.

his rollercoaster of thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. his ears already familiar with this particular knocking pattern. he can't help but straighten himself up, suddenly aware of the way his hair is all sprawled out. he slicks it down with saliva, muttering a small "enter" soon after he finshes checking on his appearance.

his mood lightens just a little bit at the sight of your face. as much as lucifer wants to hate you right now, he couldn't possibly feel that way towards you. never, not in a quadrillion light years.

you sit down in front of him, a genuine look of concern on your face. this makes lucifer visibly frown, catching you a bit off guard. "i wanted to talk to you about something, lucifer." his eyes grow curious and a bit hopeful, wishing it were about something that would distract him from the current situation or give him even the tiniest bit of closure.

"it's about lucienne." and once again, you manage to crush all his hope with only a few words. lucifer swears that if he hears that name one more time, he would personally shove your lovely boyfriend down the deepest depths of the underworld.

you watch his brows furrow and his fist tighten on his quill. lucifer looks far from happy to hear you talk about your significant other right now. "look, i know you'd rather not hear about lucienne again, but it's really really important and i want you to just hear me out. just this once, please?"

lucifer couldn't stand the pleading look you were giving him. your puppy eyes were a weapon that you used on him often, and they always managed to work. a tired sigh leaves his lips, if it meant getting it over with then he'd listen. "fine," he snaps, not before rubbing at his temple in obvious distress. he's said fine, but his body language told you otherwise.

"someone's kind of harassing lucienne at the moment. stalking him, giving him unwanted gifts and constantly professing their love for him when he's told them multiple times that it made him uncomfortable. they're an admirer of some sorts. i'm posing as lucienne's lover in hopes that they'd back off for a while, but i wanted to see if you and diavolo could do some actual help. it's worrisome, really. and it's been stressing lucienne out for the past couple of weeks. pretending to be his significant other is the most i can do for him, i hope you understand."

lucifer only freezes in shock, guilt washing over him all so suddenly. you call out for him, effectively snapping him out of his short daze. of course you'd offer to help lucienne out, you've always been a kind person. in lucifer's eyes, atleast. he coughs into his hand, avoiding eye contact with you as he degrades himself for his previous selfishness.

"of course, i'll do my best to make sure this harasser is punished. the school and i will ensure that lucienne won't be seeing this stalker anytime soon. just keep supporting him like this, i suppose. tell him he can sleep here for the night. thank you for informing me about this." you smile at lucifer's response, relief overwhelming your senses. if this meant that lucienne was finally going to be safe and unbothered, you were overjoyed.

you jump at lucifer, thanking him, all the while, squeezing the life out of him. his heart races impossibly fast at the gesture, and you can't help but smirk at the red that tainted his cheeks. "just so you know, i still like you. and only you, lucy."

his breath comes to a halt. he was no longer able to contain the butterflies that crowded his stomach; shock and well, pure bliss apparent on his face. "does this mean i can kiss you?"

"do anything as you please."

lucifer lunges at you. capturing your lips into a hungry and impatient kiss. his hands roam all over your torso, looking for anything he could hold onto. he settles for your waist and you drape your hands over his shoulders. heaven knows how long he's been waiting for this moment.

he manages to stumble through his room, leading you two to his bed. you part as he pushes you down to sit at the end of his king sized bed. he grins at the sight of you, disheveled and thirsty for more. the avatar of pride couldn't help but be excited for the faces you'll make in the unholy endeavors he's planning for you. he'll devour you, tear apart every innocent limb you have in your body. his imagination runs wild as he thinks of the many ways he'd mark you as his, exhibit you to the world and spread you wide open for his contenders to see. for them to know just how pathetic and needy lucifer could make you in an instant.

he bends down to kiss you again, pushing against your tounge with his own. he squeezes your thighs, digging his nails deep into the skin under the cloth still covering you. groans and grunts leave your lips as he countinues to caress your plush thighs.

as you two part, panting, a newfound possessiveness overtakes lucifer's eyes.

"you're mine."

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t5u · 3 years

Text

nishimura riki; photobooths (2)

(2/2) three words, eight letters.

previous part - (1/2) cotton candy.

pairing: nishimura riki x reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint hard enough

synopsis: between two best friends who don't realize their feelings for each other just yet.

trigger warning(s): abit of swearing, ferris wheels?

word count: 1.7K

a/n: the ending to this im not really satisfied with but its been in my drafts for so long i've gotta just :D

[6:55 PM]

it was starting to get dark, you were walking with a bunny plushie in hand that riki got for you at the balloon popping stall, and with riki walking right beside you of course. looking around to see whatever interested you both next.

for riki, he was just in his own world, going wherever you led him.

what was he thinking of? the moment you decided to name that bunny after him as soon as you had it in your hands with no hesitation, and that caught him off guard for a bit. now you're just going to have a bunny in your room named riki.

and of course, back at the cotton candy stall, when the lady called you both lovebirds, it made him feel a certain way.

that same feeling he gets every time you called him cute. or whenever you fixed his hair for him, whenever you brought him banana milk randomly, whenever you feed him random things, whenever he did something wrong on purpose just so you can do it for him instead.

that same feeling he always gets when he's around you.

his act of service, his constant teasing, his little gifts, his little notes he'd usually write you whenever he was bored in class, a lot of them contained with drawings of bunnies and funny looking strawberries cause he knew they were your favorite things, or just notes telling you that he liked your outfit that day.

the way he takes you places whenever he knew you were stressed or when you needed it, when he appears at your doorsteps whenever you texted him telling him that you weren't feeling your best, when he tries to compliment and make you feel better when you're down although he's bad it it, thats his love language.

yours was physical touch, like when you'd play with his hair, which he loved, when you'd drag him around by his hand or when you hug him when you're feeling down just for comfort.

your clinginess, like when you unconsciously hold his hand when you're in public places, when he's playing games with controller in hand but you're bored so you'd always end up laying on his lap, watching the screen although you don't understand anything that's going on, but since it's riki playing it, you're interested

your patience for him. he'd make mistakes and instead of getting annoyed over it, you'd calmly tell him to try again and would help him with it. whether with homework, cooking or anything you both decided to do together. or when he's feeling down and stressed, your arms and ears are always open for him. you're always there to listen and hug him whenever he needed.

your constant scolding whenever he purposefully did something wrong so that you'd do it for him instead, he'd enjoy it whenever you were mad at him just because he thought that its cute.

he loved everything about it.

he knew how you liked your coffee, what you wanted your pancakes with and how many you'd usually eat, your favorite colors. he knew when you'd get nervous just by how you fiddle with his hands, how you loved it when he'd comfort you by giving back rubs, hand rubs or head pats. just like you did for him. he knew every single tiny detail.

you don't know how much of an impact you took upon this boy, and he wasn't against any of it either as he loved every second of it.

whatever the other did, you both have no hesitations to give it a try too.

this was alot of emotions for a boy to keep to himself. it was the first time he felt like he wanted someone to know how much he liked them. which was why this whole date-like after school amusement park thing was a good idea. he was going to tell a girl that he liked her on her favorite ride in an amusement park, where it all started. he planned it all out 2 weeks prior.

why did it take two weeks when this whole idea popped into is little head in the span of 10 minutes? it's because he's nervous, he's never confessed to anyone, ever. and like the perfectionist that he is, he wanted everything to go as planned.

"riki look! a photo booth!" you pointed.

"y/n, no more pictures" riki replied, dragging his feet.

"i just want some pictures i can put in my phone case. its so blank right now, see?" you said, extending your arms and showing the back of your phone case directly at his face.

and with that he was already convinced, to miss the chance to get his face inside that clear phone case of yours? anything.

"didn't you just have a picture of that one k-pop idol you were obsessing over for weeks?" riki said smiling a bit, looking down at you.

"well yes, but i've looked at that same photo card too much it got kinda boring."

he remembered vividly how you were squealing at him over it about a week ago.

"alright, fine" he said in a stern tone, but was jumping around inside "but it has to be in there for at least 5 months".

"okay okay fine! let's take four sheets worth so we both got two sheets each okay?"

"alright."

and there he finds himself taking pictures with with you and riki the bunny in your arms. and that character hat he came to like because every once in a while you'd turn back to tell him that it looked cute on him.

riki being riki, he was awkward.

"smile a a bit won't you, nishimura?" you poked him, placing your chin on his shoulder staring right at him. he looked back down at you. gosh if he had to count how many times him heart rate accelerated today just because of one person.

snap

"alright just get your chin off me it hurts" he giggled and grabs you by your face to lift your head up

snap

"yah!" you tried grabbing his whole face too but it was more of a struggle with his hands blocking you view. at that point you both have forgotten you were taking pictures.

[7:15 PM]

you brought out your phone and popped off your phone case to settle the pictures in the right spot.

he really made to that phone case of yours, he thought.

popping it back on, you lifted your phone and started taking pictures of the view.

"y/n"

"hm?" you looked up, he was taking photos of the both of you.

"i'm sending these to my mom, she just texted me"

"send me them too"

after he was done, you handed your phone to him. "could you take a couple for me?"

he smiled, knowing what to do.

the lighting on your face was just perfect. and you couldn't look even more adorable with that bunny on your lap.

he started clicking, but of course, he couldn't miss this chance.

"here you go" he handed you back your phone

"riki these are all you!" you said swiping through them rapidly. he really just spammed the button didn't he

he laughed, "alright alright, i'll take you some" you handed it back but he brought out his instead

"no no, i feel like the lighting on my phone looks better, i'll airdrop them after"

smooth.

"i miss the feeling of being on ferris wheels" you said.

you knew damn well the last time you were on one was with him and it didn't end well.

"me too" he replied with a smile, looking back out to see the view.

nervously thinking of the right time to say the three words that he's practiced in front of the mirror in his bedroom countless times making sure he won't mess it up just for today.

the atmosphere was a lot different from when you both were last here, more lights, more lively, more stalls.

"riki?"

"y/n" he replied. you froze, not being able to mutter out your words. chanting in your head that it's now or never and that you can't keep chickening out when the timing is perfect. but nothing seemed to come out of you mouth.

three words, eight letters was all it took and yet it was so hard to say. being too scared of rejection, too scared of the outcome. you can't handle the thought of him ghosting you again. god knows whether or not he's going to ghost you or just cut you off for good.

it was just silence. you two were just looking in different directions, staring out of the ferris wheel.

again, you failed to say how you felt towards the boy. again, you tried changing the topic.

"people look like ants from up her-

"i like you, y/n"

"what?"

"i like you" he said, with no hesitation looking straight at you now but you were too nervous to look into his eyes right now. what the fuck.

"i do too riki"

"i don't mean it in a friendly way y/n." you paused to look at the boy, he continued, "i mean in way that means you make me feel things whenever i'm around you. i like you a lot, y/n"

"i like you too, riki."

your heart was thumping in your chest it felt like it was going to burst. you weren't on a roller coaster, it was just a ferris wheel but yet the excitement was incomparable. he confessed before you did.

thats when you realized that those pictures you took from the photo booth were also in his phone case.

riki was never the type to say or do these things, which took you by surprise. he just said he liked you.

like, like like you.

it was minutes of just looking around after that. to riki, this was new, never once in his life has he confessed and god if he was along right now he would be jumping around because he did it, and he didn't fuck it up.

"so, you wanna grab coffee tomorrow morning?" he said looking out

"yup"

"8?"

"yup"

he smiled looking down

the awkwardness was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

what mattered at that moment though, was that it happened, you confessed. or he did. after years, it finally happened and you didn't get rejected, which is a big relief. it wasn't all that bad after all.

character hats, cotton candy stalls, bunny plushies, photobooths and ferris wheels. three words, eight letters. it all worked out.

check out my playlist! (pls)

taglist (open!) @sunwoahkim @chanshyuck @squiishymeow @maiverie @thicccdiccdaddy27

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whatisthiswritingthing · 3 years

Text

Good with Kids - Kristie Mewis x Reader

Prompt: Maybe like R is very hard but soft with kids? Idk whatever u want I don’t care as long as it’s Queen Mewis.

Note, so pretty sure this sucks, so let me know.

“And the crew down there are my nieces and nephews,” Kristie motioned to the group pf young kids racing around the yard, the oldest being only eight, youngest three, trying to keep up the older kids. Y/N nodded seriously, taking in all the name and faces she had met at the family barbeque.

“Kristie, stop calling them that, it sounds like I have a stash of kids that no one knows about,” Sam stomped a foot, dramatically complaining to her sister.

“I don’t know family tree math,” Kristie shrugged her shoulders.

“Cousins Kris, they’re called cousins,” Sam rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, same thing,” Kristie smiled, knowing she was getting under her sisters skin, Y/N finally cracking a small smile.

“Not the same thing!” Sam exclaimed, she knew what Kristie was doing, but couldn’t help her reaction, drawing the attention of several other family members. Kristie grinned in return while her sister scowled, the family members all giggling, used to the two sisters bantering.

“Be nice to your sister Kristie,” her mom warned, with a smile.

Sam grinned triumphantly at her sister, who just rolled her eyes and tugged Y/N’s hand to the stairs of the deck, leading her to meet the group of kids.

“I thought you liked this girl Kristie,” one of her aunts teased when she saw where they were headed.

Kristie laughed, “I do,” she squeezed one of Y/N’s cheeks, drawing another small smile from the normally stoic woman, “but I think she’ll be able to handle herself.”

“Good, then come sit with me” her grandma cut in, shooing one of the other older grandchildren out of a chair next to her.

Kristie bit her lip and gave Y/N a hesitant look, Y/N giving her a reassuring smile and nod in return, pushing Kristie to sit with her grandparents.

Y/N walked the rest of the way down to kids playing tag in the grass. Kristie sat in the chair, shifting it so she could still see Y/N.

“She’s survived this long today, she won’t run away now,” her aunt teased, handing Kristie another beer.

“I know, but look at her,” Kristie motioned to where Y/N was already beginning to play tag with the kids, “she’s kind of hot, I want to look at her all the time,” she winked at another cousin across from her, drawing an eyeroll from everyone, her grandma giving her a gentle smack in the bicep.

The group grew and shrunk as the afternoon wore on, people coming and going, joining different groups or bouncing between them all. Kristie did her best to concentrate on the people around her, but her focus kept shifting down to the large yard where Y/N was still with the kids, them having accepted her as their own.

The kids and Y/N had found a youth size football, a small game going on. The word game used loosely, mostly the kids running around and Y/N gently throwing it for them to catch or running with it and them all tackling her to the ground. The adults all watched on, sharing smiles when they saw how happy all the kids were, Y/N distributing attention to them all, none of them feeling left out. Shifting easily to be a little rougher with the bigger kids, and incredibly gentle with the smaller ones.

“Alright, go get your kid and we’ll get ours,” one of the aunts smiled at Kristie, motioning to the group of kids attempting to drag Y/N down, “supper is ready.”

The pair made their way down the stairs, “supper guys, go wash your hands,” the aunt clapped her hands, gaining the attention of the group.

“Five more minutes!” the oldest called out.

“Yeah! Five more minutes!” Y/N called out from the bottom of the pile of kids, head popping up while she gently lifted a small body off her, it quickly replaced by another.

The rest of the parents all laughed, having been prepared to wrangle their own kids to the table, not expecting the lone adult to be difficult as well. Kristie stared at her girlfriend, mouth agape, before closing it and giving Y/N a hard stare.

Y/N immediately began sitting up, shifting kids to sit up with her, “supper guys! Lets go wash our hands!” the kids all began to scamper off her and race to the bathroom to wash their hands.

“Guess who just earned all future babysitting jobs,” one of the uncles patted Kristie on the back while following the rest of the family inside.

Kristie’s eyes never left Y/N as she pushed herself up once all limbs were untangled from her, brushing off any loose grass before meeting Kristie’s, giving her a wide smile.

“You really are a big kid, aren’t you?” Kristie met her as Y/N began to walk forward, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Y/N smiled down at the blonde, wrapping an arm of her own around Kristie’s shoulders, the couple making their way to the house.

Y/N pulled away when they walked in the house, washing her hands, before sitting at the table next to Kristie.

Supper was a loud, busy thing. Family all talking over each other, stories being thrown about, gentle ribbing all around.

“You are nothing like these two described you, Y/N,” an aunt smiled across the table, shooting a smirk to Kristie, who rolled her eyes at the teasing.

“Oh?” Y/N turned, giving Kristie a smirk of her own, then shifting her eyes to Sam, who blushed at the look.

“Yupp!” an uncle grinned as well, “Sammy makes you sound terrifying,” he nudged the blushing blonde, “I think she’s scared of you.” Y/N had a hard exterior, and was very quiet, many people interpreting both for her to be very unapproachable.

“I am not!” Sam was quick to defend herself, “I’m not scared of you Y/N,” she looked at Y/N eyes wide, still blushing, Y/N continued to smirk at her, “I’m not!”

“Sure you’re not Sammy,” Y/N just winked, “what are you telling them?”

“Nothing! Kristie says stuff,” Sam stammered out, trying to push the blame onto her sister, pointing across the table. Kristie giggled at how flushed her sister got over nothing.

“They’re fishing Ssmmy,” Kristie smiled, resting a hand on Y/N’s thigh, the couple smiling as Sam flopped back in her chair, mouth wide, realizing she fell right into it.

The table as laughing at Sam, Kristie squeezed Y/N’s thigh, leaning slightly into her side, tilting her chin up and smiling at her girlfriend.

Someone else was about to tease Sam as well, but was cut off by cutlery hitting a plate, a loud “no” being called from the children’s table further down. Everyone looked over to a pouting toddler, arms crossed, lips pursed out, eyebrows furrowed. An exasperated ten year old glaring down. Letting out a sigh, an aunt pushed up from the table, squatting in between the children, working to sooth both upset children.

After a few minutes, the aunt stood up with the toddler in her arms, taking the plate off the table with her and returning to her original seat, toddler remaining on her lap.

The pout remained firm on the toddler’s face with his face tucked into his mom’s neck. Everyone else ignored the outburst, resuming conversation, mom continuing to try and encourage the boy to eat.

Part of the face peaked out, shyly trying to glance around the table, making eye contact with Y/N who made a funny face before anyone else noticed. Giggling, he tucked his face back in briefly, before coming back out, Y/N giving him another silly face.

His mom tried to encourage a fork of food, a grumbled “no”, and his face burrowed back in. Letting out a sigh, she dropped the fork back to his plate, going back to her own.

Y/N bit her lip when she noticed a small hand creep out and towards her plate, one eye peeking out from his mom’s shoulder. She slid her plate closer to the boy, offering her fork out to him. Supressing her own giggle, she watched while the boy awkwardly fisted the fork and stabbed blindly at food on her own plate, no one else at the table aware, having moved on to teasing someone else. The boys head finally lifted fully to put the forkful of food in his mouth, not gaining the attention of his mom.

“Oh Y/N I am so sorry,” she apologized once she realized where the fork of food had come from, noticing the plate of food pushed closer to them.

“Don’t worry about it, my food is just better I guess,” Y/N smirked, shrugging one shoulder, everyone giggling as the small boy reached out for another forkful of food.

“How come at camp you threatened to stab me with my own fork when I wanted to try some of your food?” Sam gasped when she watched the boy go in for a third forkful.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N played coy, rotating the plate to give the boy something else to stab, subtly encouraging the pile of broccoli on the other side.

The boy crinkled his nose, trying to spear another piece of chicken on the far end. Y/N intercepted the fork, taking it into her own hand, and making a show of picking up broccoli and enjoying the bite. Winking at the boy, she stabbed a smaller piece, twirling the fork for his to take it.

Instead of using his hands, he leaned forward, eating off the fork while Y/N held it. His mom rolled her eyes, everyone else giggling at the boy. He pulled himself out of his moms arm, crawling awkwardly into Y/N’s lap.

“No, buddy, you can’t sit in Y/N’s lap,” his mom gripped his hips to try and pull him back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N helped guide him the rest of the way, helping him settle in her lap.

Kristie stared lovingly at her girlfriend, watching as Y/N guided another forkful of broccoli into his mouth, the boy shook his head, refusing the vegetable. Y/N smiled, diverting the fork to her mouth, taking the bite with a dramatic chomping sound. His eyes tracked the motion, before clumsily picked up his fork to mimic the action.

Y/N smirked and shot a wink to his mom, everyone’s mouths dropping when he took another without prompting. The meal continued on, the pair continuing to eat off each other’s plates, the boy no longer complaining about eating any of the food.

Desert took everyone to the backyard, a fire having been started, ingredients for smores set out. Several of the kids having found their way to Y/N’s lap, one sat on either thigh, a third squished in the middle, and two more with chairs pulled as close as possible on either side.

Everyone watched while Y/N gave each child equal attention, helping one put a marshmallow on the skewer while answering another’s question, managing to keep all settled.

“You’ve got a good one Kristie,” an aunt leaned over when she saw the blonde watching her girlfriend, her gave soft, smile wide as she took in the woman with all the kids.

Kristie shyly looked away, “I know,” she looked to her aunt, “except now she has me jealous of a bunch of kids.”

They watched as Y/N helped a smaller hand onto to one stick, her other protectively holding a leaning body off her knee.

“That’s alright, I am too,” the uncle on the other side chuckled, “we have spent years trying to get them to all get along and she strolls in and does it without even trying.”

The adults kept an eye on the kids and Y/N, looking over frequently when they noticed how quiet the whole group had gotten. Parents brought their phones out, snapping several pictures of the entire crew asleep. Y/N reclined in the chair, three bodies in her lap leaning into her chest, two on either side snuggled under each arm.

#kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Two (Harry Styles)

a/n: you guys thank you so much for all the love you’ve showed part one!! 🥺 im so happy you like the story! i wanted to post part two a little later, in the weekend but i got so happy for all the reactions that i decided to move it earlier so here it is! i’ll try to update soon, the longest it will take is one week probably. im working on my thesis and have a lot of school work so please be patient with me! feedback is very much welcomed, as always, your reactions and comments mean so much to me!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 10.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

Pulling Izzy out of daycare dramatically lessened the amount of time she could spend with her friends, so the situation needs extra attention on her socializing. You’ve been trying to take her to the park as much as possible so she could meet with kids her age and Harry has been arranging a lot of playdates for her with her friends from daycare.

When you come back from meeting your brother for lunch on a Sunday, you are greeted with not two, but eight little feet running around the living room, many of Izzy’s toys have been brought downstairs and the coffee table is filled with fruits, snacks and drinks for the kids. You know the two little guests, it’s Yara and Zac, the three of them were like a little gang back when Izzy was attending daycare. Yara’s moms and Zac’s mom are sitting on the terrace, letting the kids roam around freely, Harry is in the kitchen preparing some sandwiches for the guests when you arrive back.

“Hi, do you need help with anything?” you ask, catching his attention.

“Oh, hi! No I’m fine, thank you. How was lunch with your brother?”

“Great,” you smile at him before leaving him to do whatever he has to do.

“Miss Y/N!” Yara greets you, waving in your way while munching on an apple slice.

“Hello Yara, Zac,” you smile at them before walking out to the terrace to greet the parents. “Hi! Ava, Saige, it’s nice to see you again. And Linda, hello!”

“Y/N, hi! Harry told us you might return soon, so good to see you!” Ava greets you as you join them at the table. They’ve been the nicest parents while you were working at the daycare, though you weren’t the only victim of the closed-minded cowards that got you fired. Ava and Saige have faced quite a lot of backlash for basically daring to be a same-sex couple out in the open. You’ve heard many complaints from other parents about how they don’t want them to pick up their daughter together. Apparently, it’s confusing for the kids to see two women to be the mothers of the same child. Ridiculous.

“I was out having lunch with my brother. How have you been?”

“Things are the same, you know,” Saige shrugs with a scowl. “But your firing has got us thinking about pulling Yara out as well.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, it’s starting to get really ridiculous. I mean it’s one thing that we get weird looks, but firing you was kind of the last straw,” Ava nods.

“And how have you been here, Y/N? How is working for Harry?” Linda asks.

“Oh, it’s amazing, really. I love taking care of Izzy, she is so easy to handle and I love seeing her learn and grow. And Harry is a great boss, I got really lucky.”

“Lucky indeed!” Ava smirks, making them all laugh as you feel yourself blushing. “Even I sometimes dream about the man,” she adds, keeping her tone down.

“How do you keep your cool?” Linda sighs. “If I had to live with this man, I would go nuts.”

“Well, Izzy keeps me pretty busy, and he is my boss, so…”

“It’s not like HR would be up your ass if you got involved,” Saige shrugs, taking a sip from her iced tea.

You don’t get to react, the kids run out, taking over the playground, Harry arriving right behind them with a plate filled with sandwiches for the guests.

“Ladies, sorry for the wait,” he smiles, placing the food to the table as he joins your little circle.

“Oh Harry, thank you so much!” Ava sighs, grabbing one already. “We were just talking to Y/N about how big of an upgrade it is for her to work here.”

“Is it?” he asks, slightly surprised as he glances over at you.

“I mean, the paycheck is better and it’s clearly a better environment,” you chuckle shrugging.

“I just don’t know why Claire lets those assholes control the place. She is the boss there, she should stand up against them,” Linda scowls.

“She is just trying to avoid confrontation.”

“No, she is afraid they would stop paying the daycare the money, so she is an ass-kisser,” Saige scoffs, making you laugh.

“Well, at least I have Y/N now to take good care of Izzy,” Harry smiles, his eyes meeting yours and you swear your heart skips a beat when he says that he has you.

“Lucky bastard!” Ava throws her hands into the air, making everyone laugh.

Enjoying the company, you stay outside instead of locking yourself up in your room. It’s nice to see the moms occasionally pick on Harry, they surely like to joke about him being a hot single dad, but he usually just blushes and smiles at the compliments. Linda and Zac leave first, then Ava, Saige and Yara head home as well when it’s nearing five in the afternoon. Though Harry tells you to just leave the cleanup for him, you insist on helping.

“Now I feel bad you are working on your day off,” he huffs as you help him around in the kitchen.

“It’s not working,” you roll your eyes. “I live here too, of course I’m gonna help keeping it clean.”

“You know, if your brother ever wants to come over, feel free to invite him.”

“Might take your word, because he is very curious about the place,” you chuckle. Harry smiles as he starts washing the dishes.

“He is welcomed anytime.”

“Thank you.” Putting away the snacks that was left you start drying the dishes while he is washing them, working next to each other in silence. Unlike his usual attire, he is now wearing just a plain white t-shirt with light-washed jeans. “You’re quite the moms’ favorite,” you tease him, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Saige and Ava like to pull my leg, but I know they mean well.”

“They are great people, I always liked them,” you smile glancing at him.

“I remember when I first met them at a parents’ meeting, they spotted how lost I was among all the moms and asked if I wanted to sit with them. Then Izzy became friends with Yara so we met quite a few times.”

“I find it a little funny we never met while I was working at the daycare. Izzy was in my group for almost a year and we just never ran into each other.”

Harry licks his lips before turning his gaze to you, finishing up the dishes and turning the water off.

“I saw you.” Your eyebrows shoot up. How did you not see him?

“Really?”

“Yeah, just a few times. Mostly it was Ruth who picked up Izzy these past few months. I had a huge project that ended just before you started here, so I didn’t have the chance to pick her up that much. But I saw you a few times. You were just always busy with the kids, I guess… you didn’t notice me,” he shrugs, holding his arms on his chest as he leans against the counter.

“It could get pretty intense sometimes even though it was just a daycare,” you chuckle, remembering to all the tantrums and fussy dramas that happened between the kids. Sometimes it felt more like a high school than a daycare, especially when friends were taken and lovestories happened through lunchtimes.

“Daddy! What are we having for dinner?” Izzy runs into the kitchen, tippy-tapping her hands on the counter that she can barely reach.

“Macaroni and cheese.”

“Yes! Maccy cheese!” Izzy cheers throwing her hands into the air. Harry smiles down at her, ruffling her hair and you can’t push down a smile at what she just called mac and cheese.

Harry starts prepping for dinner, he puts on some music that Izzy dances to and though you try to leave them be and enjoy their alone time, Izzy insists you stay and help as well.

“Izzy, let Y/N do what she wants, this is her day off,” Harry warns her, making her pout her lips at you. Not that you would have said no to her, but now you definitely can’t leave.

“It’s alright. I’m happy to help.”

Izzy sits on the counter in a safe distance from the stove, her duty is to watch the pasta cook while Harry takes care of the sauce and you set the table, knowing it won’t take long for the food to be ready.

“Daddy?” Izzy speaks up, tilting her head to the side.

“Yes, baby?”

“I love Maccy cheese. Does mom like it too?”

Harry’s eyes flicker over to you, as if he is embarrassed you caught a moment that shouldn’t have been revealed and you can tell he is still kind of torn how to handle the mentioning of his late wife. You keep a straight face, making yourself busy with cleaning off the counter top. You wouldn’t want to make him think he can’t talk about Maggie in your presence.

“Um, yeah. Mommy loves mac and cheese,” he nods, giving her knees a little squeeze before moving her off the counter to take care of the pasta.

Your eyes meet Harry’s gaze when you bring some water to the table and you can tell he is still thinking about the slip you just heard, but you give him a soft smile, trying your best to assure him nothing bad happened.

Izzy babbles through dinner about everything she did with Yara and Zac today, excited to see them as soon as possible and Harry promises her to arrange a meeting for them in the park sometime next week. You try to help with cleaning up, but Harry doesn’t let you, so pouring yourself a nice glass of wine you sit in the living room to watch some TV before going to bed. After dinner, Harry takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath and once that’s done she is allowed to play some more in her room.

Harry joins you soon on the couch with a glass of wine as well, seemingly tired from all the socializing he did. Peeking at him while the evening news is playing on the screen, you notice that he is not even paying attention, deep in his thoughts he is pulling on his bottom lip like he always does whenever he is deep in focus. You have a guess what he is thinking about, but you want to give him the time and space to figure out if he is ready to share or not.

“I, uhh—I never really told you why it’s just Izzy and I,” he speaks up and you turn to him with patience, knowing the importance of him bringing it up. “My wife… Maggie, she… We got married about six years ago and then two years later we had Izzy. She was six months old when Maggie…”

He is struggling to find the words, or to just even think about it and you don’t want him to feel like he has to tell you about any of it.

“Harry, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to. I always feel bad that I don’t talk about her, makes it look like I’m trying to forget about her, but that’s not at all the case, it’s just… hard to think about how long it’s been and I still feel like it was just… last week.”

Harry sniffles and you’re not sure if it’s because he is getting emotional to the point where he is going to start crying or it’s nothing significant, but you feel the urge to assure him about your support. Reaching over you put your hand to his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes first fall to your hand and then to you, a sense of softness shining back from his green irises as he lets out a shaky breath.

“It was a car accident. She was driving home late night from her sister’s and a drunk driver ran the red light, crashed right into her car. They both were rushed into hospital, but Maggie’s lungs collapsed and she… they couldn’t help her. The guy had surgery and though he broke quite a few bones and had a serious concussion, he survived.”

You have to bite into your bottom lip, already feeling the tears welling in your eyes, but you quickly blink them away. You can only imagine what it’s like to be called and find out your wife was killed because of the dumb mistake of someone else. And to think that Izzy was still so small, Harry was left with a baby and the immense grief so suddenly, it must have been the toughest time he had to go through.

“I’m really sorry, Harry,” you quietly tell him, his eyes flickering up to meet yours and they are glistening from the tears. He just nods, blinking a few times before drinking up his wine.

Before anything else could be said, you hear Izzy running down the stairs, soon throwing herself to the couch, cuddling to Harry’s side.

“Hey baby, want to go to sleep already?” he asks, softly brushing through her hair with his fingers. Izzy nods, blinking sleepily. Harry scoops her into his arms standing up from the couch and he is reaching for his empty glass, but you take it before he could.

“I’ll wash it, don’t worry about it,” you smile at him.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, holding Izzy tight before the two of them disappear upstairs.

You don’t stay out too long yourself either, washing the glasses you let a single tear run down your cheek before quickly wiping it away and heading up to your room.

The past two years you’ve been taking gigs as a photographer more and more, going to weddings, birthday parties, baby showers or anniversaries to snap photos of others’ most precious moments. You are not a professional, nor do you treat yourself as one, but the more events you attended and the more work you put out, the more popular you started to get. Now you have about two bookings every month and you are able to ask for a quite impressive amount of money for a session that people are willing to pay for your pictures.

You’ve been putting off your gigs since you moved into the Styles mansion, wanting to focus on all the changes in your lives, but now that you’ve gotten quite used to your new life one month into it, you are getting back to your usual. This Saturday you’re doing a photoshoot of a soon-to-be-wedded pair who also booked you for their upcoming wedding in a few weeks. It’s kind of an engagement photoshoot since they couldn’t do one when they got engaged months ago, but they didn’t want to miss out on the chance to do one before they official tie the knot.

Harry and Izzy are planning to go to the zoo today, something she’s been begging to do for weeks now and Harry finally gave in, so all three of you are going to be quite busy today. The photoshoot takes place at this fancy, mid-century styled café the couple chose, so you decide to dress up yourself a little too. Putting on a maroon colored pencil skirt that hugs your hips and waist tight, you tuck into it a white silky blouse, making you appear like some kind of eyecandy assistant straight out of a Hollywood movie, especially with your low bun, which is less for the look but more for practicality, since you don’t like it when your hair gets caught in the straps of your camera.

Swinging your camera bag to one shoulder and your handbag to the other one, your camera hanging from your neck, you head downstairs, rushing a little because you’re short on time already. Izzy is sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island while Harry is packing them some lunch and snacks for the day.

“Oh! Y/N, you look so pretty!” Izzy beams at you when you near the corner. She is dangling her legs playfully, her piggy tails curling adorably on each sides of her head. Harry’s head snaps up and his lips part upon spotting you.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” you smile at her, caressing her cheek, tickling her a little that makes her giggle.

“Where are you going?” she asks curiously.

“Izzy, don’t question her all the time, that’s not too nice,” Harry warns her, but you just shake your head.

“It’s alright. I have a photoshoot today. I have to take pictures of a couple that’s going to get married soon,” you explain to her and Harry’s ears perk up, eyeing the camera that’s hanging from your neck.

“I didn’t know you are a photographer,” Harry hums, closing the cooler.

“Well, I’m not a professional, but I’ve been doing photoshoots here and there.”

“That’s amazing!” he smiles warmly.

“Thanks. Well, I gotta go because I’m running a little late. Have fun at the zoo!” you smile, at them before walking out. You reach the front door but stop for a moment to read the text the bride has sent you letting you know they are running a little late as well. That’s when you hear the conversation between Harry and Izzy coming from the kitchen.

“She looked so pretty!” Izzy sighs. You expect Harry to just hum or ignore her words, but for your surprise, he answers her.

“Yeah, she really does.”

You blush like a teenage girl, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest as you smile, walking out of the house.

The father-daughter duo is still out when you get home later. You make yourself a tea and sit out to the terrace with your computer, starting to edit the photos right away so you can send then over to the couple as soon as possible. They turned out pretty good, you love the colorful vibe the café had and it went well with the pair’s outfits.

You get so into editing that you don’t even notice Harry and Izzy arriving home, just when the sliding door opens and Izzy runs up to you, holding a stuffed animal that appears to be an otter.

“Y/N, look what daddy got me!” she cheers holding up the toy.

“Oh my god, it’s really cute!” You pull her to sit on your lap as she hugs the toy, clearly happy to have a new addition to her already existing army. Harry walks out with a bottle of water and a glass. Joining the two of you at the table, he pours some water for Izzy and makes her drink it.

“We spent an entire hour watching the otters,” he chuckles, brushing Izzy’s hair out of her face as she chugs the water down.

“Can’t blame you, they are really cute,” you chuckle. Izzy puts the empty glass down and hops off your lap before announcing that she is gonna show her new toy around in the backyard before running away from you.

“Are those… the pictures from today?” Harry shyly asks, eyeing your laptop’s screen.

“Oh, yeah. Wanted to get a headstart on editing,” you nod turning it so he can have a better look. “Want to see what I got so far?”

“Of course!” he nods smiling.

You click through the photos you’ve already edited, there are about ten in total and you’re quite satisfied with how they turned out to be.

“Wow, they look… really good, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you smile blushing a little.

“What events do you usually do?”

“Mostly weddings and engagement shoots, birthdays, these kinds of stuff.”

“It’s really amazing,” he nods smiling.

“I… Hope you won’t be mad but I’ve shot a few pictures of Izzy too these past weeks,” you admit, hoping he won’t get upset for you, doing it without his permission. “I didn’t use them anywhere, I wasn’t planning to, I just thought they were nice moments.”

“Oh, can I see them?”

“Of course!”

Opening up the folder you put her pictures into, you start clicking through the few photos you took of her. There’s one of her during her swimming lesson, laughing happily as she holds onto the edge of the pool, her wet locks sticking to her head. Then there’s one when the two of you were baking cupcakes and she got icing all over her face and tried to lick it off, her tongue sticking out on the picture. There are some of her just roaming around the backyard, exploring the bugs hiding in the grass, some of her napping with her favorite stuffed animals on the couch and then the last one was taken when she was jumping in her bed, you caught her up in the air, the widest smile on her face as she was laughing straight into the camera.

“Y/N, these are… wow. They are all so good, I love them!”

“Really?” Your smile grows wide, happy that he likes them.

“Yeah! Do you think… do you think you can send them to me?”

“Of course! I can get them printed for you, if you’d like. There’s a place where I go to get my photos printed, they make them look like they were taken on an analog, old school camera, I love that little extra touch on the pictures.”

“That would be fantastic,” he smiles, clearly in awe of your work.

You spend the rest of the afternoon editing while Harry and Izzy take over the kitchen as usual. When you’re on your way up to your room with your laptop after you decided to call it a day, you catch them in there, Izzy making Harry dance around with her while they are chopping the veggies. Harry is swaying his lips to the rhythm, humming to the song as Izzy is jumping and twirling around, singing from the top of her lungs. Despite the terrible loss of her mother, there’s no doubt Izzy is having the best possible childhood, getting all the love she deserves from her dad and you feel happy you are here to witness them grow together.

You did not see your parents’ divorce coming, probably because it’s been over six years since you’ve moved out and you only saw them every other week at best. You always tried to come around as often as possible, wanting to spend time with Trevor and of course, them as well, but you had to focus on building your own life. You had to worry about your work, your own living space and not much later you started dating Keith so you were pretty busy to say the least. You weren’t there when things started to go downhill, but Trevor was. He had to suffer through every fight and screaming match they had without any support and you’ve always felt guilty about it, but you couldn’t just move back home. However you’ve always tried to do everything you could to support him through these hard times. He knew he could call you anytime he had enough of the spiteful atmosphere at home and you were quick to come to his rescue.

You were mad at your parents, there’s no need to lie about it. But not because of getting a divorce, you knew better than to expect them to suffer in a marriage they weren’t happy in, but the way they handled has always been just… unacceptable. Especially because in the midst of their anger and hatred towards each other they started to forget that they still had a kid living home who had to listen to everything they threw at each other, things no son should ever hear about his parents, no matter if they were true or not.

Being a teenager in high school is stressful enough as it is, but having to deal with your parents’ nasty divorce is just something no teenager should have to go through. Trevor has been dealing with it for a while now and he is trying his best to just shut them out whenever they are going at it, but sometimes it’s not that easy. That’s when he seeks comfort at you.

It’s a Thursday evening when your parents decide to drive Trevor up the wall with their screaming and fighting again. You’re watching a movie with Izzy and Harry in the entertainment room, working on your laptop simultaneously, confirming some photoshoots for the upcoming weekends. Harry has let Izzy play with his hair while watching the movie, so now she is all over her daddy, decorating his hair with little hairclips and hair ties while the man is just sitting there without a complaint.

Your phone starts buzzing on the couch and Trevor’s photo is flashing on the screen. Putting the laptop aside, you grab your phone and walk out of the room not to disturb them with your call.

“Hey!” you greet him happily, but your stomach immediately drops when you hear him draw a shaky breath on the other end of the line. “Trev? What’s wrong?”

“Can I please spend the night at yours?” he pleads weakly.

“What happened, are you alright?” you perk up right away.

“It’s just… dad came over this afternoon and they went at it again and now they are doing it over the phone, mom is like really out of her mind right now. I have a math test tomorrow and I don’t think I can sleep here like this. She is still screaming at him over the phone.”

“I’m leaving right now, pack a bag, alright?”

“Thanks,” he breathes out and ends the call. Rushing back into the entertainment room Harry turns to you while Izzy is still busy with his hair.

“Uh, I know it’s really sudden and all, but my brother just called, would it be fine if he spent the night over here?” Even though Harry himself told you it’s fine to have people over, you still feel like you need to ask for his permission, especially if your guest is planning to stay the night.

“Is he alright? Of course he can come over.” Sitting straight up he asks Izzy to sit down a little which she gladly does, turning her attention towards the movie.

“It’s just, um, our parents are having another scream match. They are… They are in the middle of getting a divorce and they are not handling it right,” you let out a bitter chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Do you need me to come with you? You seem very upset, you sure you can drive?”

“No, it’s alright, but thanks. I’m fine. I’ll be back soon with him and thank you so much for letting him stay,” you breathe out. He just nods with a sympathetic smile before you turn around and leave.

Through the drive over to the house where you grew up your anger just grows with each turn you take. You love your parents to death, they raised you in a quite unusual and hard situation, they had to grow up with you when they had you so young, but they always made sure to give you everything you needed. And you know they have the same kind of love towards Trevor, but their hatred for each other is blinding them and they probably don’t even realize how much it affects him, but you are not letting them ruin everything because they fell out of love. Trevor deserves the same kind of supportive and loving environment to grow up in just like the one you had and there’s nothing that could change that.

Pulling up to the driveway you take a deep breath as you march up to the front porch and use your keys to let yourself in. The shouting hits your ears right away, it’s coming from the kitchen, but Trevor is the first one you spot on the top of the stairs. His hood is on and he has a backpack in his hands as he comes down the stairs with a pained and tired face.

“Hey! Left the car open, go get in there, I’ll be out in a minute,” you softly tell him as you give him a quick hug.

“Thanks,” he mumbles before walking out.

Following your mother’s voice to the kitchen you find her with a half empty bottle of wine, cussing your father out through the phone.

“Go and fuck that bitch you went out to have dinner with last weekend! Yes I know about that!” she spats and you wince at her words.

“Mom!” you call out, but she doesn’t even register your voice.

“Fuck you, Fred! Fuck you!” she continues, so you raise your voice a little more.

“Mom!” This time she finally hears it and turning around she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? You didn’t say you were coming,” she adds, her voice soft and weak this time, the anger long gone from it.

“I’m here to pick Trevor up. Put dad on speaker, I want to have a word with you two,” you tell her firmly and she gulps hard, nodding as she sets the phone to the counter, putting your dad on speaker.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” you hear him question from the other end of the line.

“I could ask the same thing!” you snap back, fed up with the way they have been acting. They might have lost a good chunk of their youth because they were busy taking care of you after having at just nineteen, but that doesn’t give them the right to act like literal cavemen in front of your brother.

“Trevor called me all upset, begging me to come and get him. What is wrong with you two? You have been at each other’s throats all the damn time, it is not healthy not just for Trevor but to either of you!”

“Y/N, sweetie, there’s just a lot going on—“ your mother tries to explain, but you cut her off.

“I don’t fucking care! Whatever is going on between the two of you, Trevor should be first! No matter what! He needs you both, he needs the support and love, but he is only getting the screaming and fighting. This is not right!”

“It’s a hard situation, you have to be patient with us, Y/N,” your father sighs over the phone and you can’t hold your ironic laughter back.

“Patient? I’ve been patient with you these past about five months since you’ve been literally tearing each other to pieces. Do yourselves and everyone else a favor and just get it over with. Dad, pick up all your stuff and don’t come here for mom’s sake. Mom, don’t snoop around dad’s life, because it’s not your business anymore. Stop being ignorant and maybe start to think about the kid you still have living near you.”

Your words might have been harsh, but it needed to be said. You can tell by your mother’s shocked expression and from the way your dad is dead silent in the call that your message finally hit them in the head and you hope they are willing to get their shit together so Trevor doesn’t lose his mind.

“Trevor is staying with me tonight, we’ll see when he wants to come back, but you better think about what I just told you,” you warn them before walking out and leaving them to think about their actions finally.

Trevor stays silent on the road back to Harry’s and you don’t try to force him to talk, it’s clear he has had enough for today. Arriving back home you park your car next to Harry’s Range Rover and the two of you walk inside in silence.

It’s past Izzy’s bedtime so you’re not surprised to find only Harry in the kitchen when you walk into the house. Harry seems cautious, almost worried as he spots you and Trevor in the hallway.

“Trevor, this is my boss, Harry. Harry, this is my brother, Trevor,” you introduce them to each other quickly. They shake hands with a manly nod.

“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight,” Trevor clears his throat, feeling a little out of place.

“No worries. Feel free to use any of the guest bedrooms,” Harry smiles softly.

“Oh, we’ll be fine sleeping in my room,” you assure him but Harry shakes his head at your words.

“We have plenty of space. Please, use them!”

“Thank you,” Trevor mumbles and you shoot Harry a thankful look before walking your brother upstairs.

You opt for the room next to yours, Help Trevor get comfortable, making sure he has everything he needs for the night.

“Did you get into a fight with mom and dad?” he asks, when you are sitting on the edge of his bed, about to leave him alone.

“I just told them to get their shit together,” you chuckle, giving his leg a squeeze under the covers. He cracks a smile at you, but it’s not as genuine as it should be. “I’ll drive you to school in the morning. My room is right next to this one, come over if you need anything, alright?”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Good night, Trev,”you tell him switching the lights off and walking towards the door.

“Good night, Y/N,” he calls after you before you close the door, letting out a long breath.

As you make your way down to the kitchen you see that Harry is still there, his eyes snap up to you, filled with concern and worry.

“Everything alright?” he asks as you make yourself a tea.

“Yeah, he was just fed up with the constant screaming. I can’t blame him, my mother didn’t even realize I was there until I raised my voice at her.”

“I’m sorry about that. Must be hard dealing with high school and a nasty divorce.”

“It is,” you sigh. “But thank you for letting him stay, really.” “I meant it when I said it’s just as much your home as it is ours. He can come over anytime, don’t worry about that,” he shrugs.

“Thank you. I’ll drive him to school in the morning, but I’ll be back by the time you leave, is that alright?”

“Of course,” he smiles warmly. “You two look a lot alike.”

“We get that a lot,” you chuckle. “It’s the eyes and nose shape, I think. We got those from our mother.”

“People say I look like my sister too, but I don’t really see it, if I’m being honest,” he chuckles lightly.

“Yeah? Why?”

“No idea,” he shakes his head laughing. “I just don’t see it, but I couldn’t tell you really.”

Sipping on your tea you stay in the kitchen with Harry, the light conversation about his sister and eventually his mother eases the stress that has been gripping on your chest from the encounter you had with your parents earlier. You’re not sure if he tried to talk you through it because he saw how much you needed the distraction or if it’s just how he is, but either way, he really helped you to relax.

Cleaning after yourself the two of you head to bed, saying good night to each other before disappearing in your rooms.

“This place is like… really huge,” Trevor sighs in awe when the two of you are eating breakfast together the next morning.

“I told you, it’s a mansion,” you chuckle, digging into your oatmeal. “I’ll show you around next time you’re here.”

“T’was nice of Harry to let me stay,” he hums.

“Mhm, he is a cool boss,” you smile at him.

“And kinda handsome…” Glancing at Trevor you see the sly smirk on his lips and you give him a stern look.

“Stop right there, alright? No funny thoughts!”

“Funny thoughts?” he laughs leaning back in his seat. “I just made a statement that he is a nice looking man, that’s it. Do you not agree?”

“I’m not commenting on the topic,” you diplomatically answer.

“On what topic?” Harry appears from the stairs, making you both turn his way. “Good morning,” he smiles warmly.

“Morning!” Trevor nods his way before he turns back to you, still smirking. You narrow your eyes at him before answering Harry.

“The topic doesn’t matter. Morning, Harry!”

He pours himself some coffee that you brew earlier before joining the two of you at the dining table. He strikes up a conversation with Trevor, asking him about school and his future plans once he graduates and luckily, Trevor is on his best behavior despite the comment he made earlier, he is not trying to put you into an uncomfortable situation. He knows better, because if he upsets you now, he will not be returning to the mansion, that’s for sure.

“Alright, get your stuff, we are leaving in five,” you tell him when both of you are done eating. Nodding he disappears upstairs as you take care of the dishes quickly.

“Is he staying tonight as well?” Harry asks, following you into the kitchen.

“Oh, no. I’m sure mom wants to talk to him after last night, so it’s better if he goes home.”

“Hope things will get easier for him,” he smiles and you return it, thankful that he let him stay here when he really needed a place for himself.

“Thanks for everything, Harry” Trevor smiles at him when he arrives with his backpack.

“Of course, come back soon, but under more peaceful conditions,” he chuckles nodding in his way.

“I’ll be back soon!” you call out before walking out of the house with your brother.

“So how long have you been crushing on your boss?” Trevor asks in the car and your eyes widen as you try to keep the car straight in the lane.

“Excuse you?”

“Come on, Y/N. It’s kinda obvious, you swoon at everything the man says, haven’t seen you this soft since your high school graduation,” he chuckles, finding your reaction quite entertaining, but you’re not enjoying the situation that much.

“I do not have a crush on Harry,” you shake your head laughing, but you can’t ignore the knot in your stomach at your own words. Was this that big of a lie?

“That’s too bad because I think he has a thing for you too,” he shrugs, carelessly staring out the window, like it’s that casual to discuss you and your boss having possible feelings for each other.

“When did you become an expert on these stuff?” you huff, glancing at him shortly before turning back to face the road.

“I’m not an expert, but I’m not blind either. And I saw the way he looked at you.”

“What way?” you scoff.

“Like he is thankful you are walking this Earth.”

“Did you take this from a rom-com on Netflix?” you tease him, but he just shrugs. “Of course he is thankful, I’m helping him with his daughter. It’s not easy being a single parent and I’m helping him immensely. But there’s nothing else behind that.”

“Sure, good luck convincing yourself,” he sighs when you park the car down at his school. “Thanks for the ride and the night too. I’ll call you later.”

Leaning over the console he gives you a quick hug before hopping out of the car and walking towards the main building.

Arriving back home you find Izzy sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal on her lap, watching her favorite morning cartoon, but no sign of Harry and for a moment you get scared you got back too late, but then you realize he wouldn’t leave Izzy home alone.

“Hey Sunshine, did you sleep well?” you ask, caressing her rosy cheek as you join her on the couch.

“Mhm, what are we doing today?” she asks, showing a spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

“You have French class today with Lyon and in the afternoon I thought we could learn about otters. You seemed to like them a lot at the zoo.”

“Yes! They are so cute!” she cheers happily just when you hear footsteps coming from the stairs. Turning around you spot Harry walking towards the living room, but your lips part immediately when you see that he is putting on another shirt, his naked chest on display since he hasn’t buttoned it fully. What you saw not long ago from your balcony is now so much closer, the swallows peeking out from under the shirt and you see the little cross pendant hanging between his pecs, something you’ve only seen if he pulled it out of his shirts which didn’t happen that often.

Harry stops in his tracks when he sees you on the couch with Izzy and a blush paints his cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know you were back,” he breathes out, his fingers working fast on the buttons to get himself presentable again though you wish he would just get rid of the whole thing… “Izzy spilled some juice on me so I had to change quickly,” he explains, finishing with the buttons and he quickly fixes it so he looks just as spotless as always.

“You poured too much into my cup!” Izzy defends herself furrowing her eyebrows at her dad.

“Of course it was my fault, who else’s would have it been?” Harry huffs as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Y/N, I have something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know it’s pretty sudden and on a very short notice but could you maybe look after Izzy tonight? Niall called me and begged to meet up with him for a few drinks. I would call Ruth, but she is out of town this week.”

“Oh sure! No problem,” you smile at him.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to do? Don’t feel pressured to say yes, I should have asked in advance, it’s just—“ “Harry, it’s fine. I’m okay looking after her tonight,” you assure him before he talks himself down from letting you do it. “Go have fun, you barely get out of the house without Izzy.” If you’re being honest the only place he goes to without his daughter is work and it’s a little saddening, he deserves some time out from his daddy duties.

“Thank you,” he smiles at you with gratitude. “I won’t be out too long, I promise.”

“No worries, have fun with Niall,” you wave in dismiss.

“Thanks. Have a great day. Be good, baby. I’ll see you in the afternoon.” Harry kisses Izzy’s forehead before grabbing his suit jacket, wallet, keys and phone and heads out to start his day.

“Alright, daddy is off to work and we also have a day ahead of us. Come on, let’s get started,” you smile at Izzy who nods in agreement.

Harry swears he didn’t come home earlier than his usual because he feels bad for asking you to cover the evening, but you know that’s a blatant lie. He is home by three and frees you for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you with about two extra hours. He informs you that he would be leaving around seven, so dinner time will still be his duty, but you’ll have to put Izzy to bed at her usual time, which works perfectly for you.

A little before seven Harry disappears to take a quick shower and get changed before heading out, while you sit out in the living room with Izzy, reading her from a book she chose after dinner.

When Harry returns, he is dressed more casually than he usually does for work, wearing a pair of beige slacks and a black shirt tucked into it, the first three buttons left undone, showing just a hint of his tattooed chest for the viewers.

“Okay, I just called a car, it’ll be here any minute. Please call me if anything happens, I could come home anytime.”

“Harry, I take care of her all day, I’m sure we’ll be fine for one evening as well,” you chuckle, trying to ease his nervousness about leaving his daughter home at a time he is not used to.

“Right,” he lets out a soft chuckle. “Thank you again. And Izzy, be good. Y/N will put you to bed tonight, but I’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

“Okay!” she sings, completely fine with the new arrangement.

“Alright, see you soon, good night!” he calls out on his way out of the house.

Sitting at the rooftop bar, Harry and Niall take up a small table for two near the railing so they have a nice view of the city below them. The waitress brings their order, tequila on the rocks for Harry and a good pint for Niall, and the latter man can’t ignore the fact how pretty she is in her tight white shirt and short black skirt, smiling coyly at the men as she asks if they want anything else.

“We’re good for now, Darling. Thank yeh,” Niall smirks and even winks at the woman, who is seemingly enjoying the attention from him, but deep down she would be happier if it was Harry who was trying to flirt with him. However he is busy on his phone, typing out an email even at this ungodly hour, which pisses his friend off.

“Would you stop being a workaholic prick and maybe glance at the woman that wants to fuck the shit out of you?” Niall snaps at him, grabbing his attention, but he just rolls his eyes.

“That would require my interest as well, which is not there.”

“That’s fucking sad. Really, mate. How long are you going to act like a crybaby? I’m getting tired of your long face. I get it, shit happened, but you eventually have to move on.”

Harry tries to ignore his words, eyes glued to the screen of his phone hoping his friend would just drop it, but that’s not what Niall is like. So instead of leaving him to be, he grabs his phone, snaps it right out of his hands and then shoves it into his pocket.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” he growls at his friend who just gives him a hard look.

“Harry, I’m worried about you. You do nothing, just work and be with Izzy.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t spend time with my daughter?” he asks twisting his words.

“You know that’s not what I mean. Spend as much time with her as possible, but don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

“I’m taking care of myself. I sleep and eat well and I workout regularly. I don’t see what else I might need.” “Fuck. You need to fuck,” he points out, making Harry roll his eyes again.

“You know, sometimes I question why we are even friends…” Harry grumbles under his breath as he takes a sip from his drink, feeling like he definitely needs the alcohol if Niall is gonna pick on him all night.

“Because I’m the one who pushes you out of your pit of sorrow, m’friend. And right now I feel like I need to step in, because you are turning into a bitter old man.”

“I’m not bitter,” Harry narrows his eyes at him.

“And neither are you old, so why are you acting like you are?”

“Look, I know that you are a fan of the bachelor life, going to parties, sleeping around with any woman you can get, but that’s just not for me, it never was, not even a long time ago.”

“I’m not trying to get you to act like a frat boy, Har. I know you are too soft for that, but I think it might be time for you to, I don’t know, open up a bit.”

“Open up?”

“Yeah! Go out, meet new people, preferably women,” he adds with a knowing look. “It’s been more than three years, Harry. You can’t stay at home and mope around forever.”

“I really don’t think we should be having this conversation right now.”

“If not now, then when? I tried to talk to you about it many times, but you always just dodged it, so I gave you more time to adjust to the situation, but I think we are over that,” Niall sighs, leaning onto the table. “We both know time flies by. Soon Izzy will go to school, she’ll have her own little life and before you could even blink twice, she is gonna be a teenager, barely talking to you, only caring about some boyband, her friends and shows. The time will come when you’ll have to step back a little and I don’t want you to stay alone.”

“First of all, Izzy is 4 and she won’t be allowed to even think about being independent until she is twenty,” Harry starts off as Niall rolls his eyes at him.

“Yeah, sure. You’ll have an amazing time when she becomes a teenager.”

“Don’t even talk about her being a teenager.”

“It’s going to happen!” Niall snaps and Harry narrows his eyes at him. “Okay, let’s just calm down.” He takes a deep breath even though he is the only one getting mad right now. Harry might feel uncomfortable, but he is not one to lose his temper that easily. Niall on the other hand is known to be a little too passionate at times.

“Alright. Please know that I’m just trying to be a good friend. What happened is tragic and I can’t even imagine what you went through, though I was here all along so I have a slight guess. I’m happy that you are doing vehemently better now, it’s amazing, but I know that you’ll be miserable if you stay single forever.”

“I’m not gonna start dating, Niall. It’s just… too soon. I can’t get into a relationship now.” Harry shakes his head, gulping from his drink again, the alcohol burns down his throat as he grimaces shortly.

“I get it that you don’t want a relationship, but dating might not be that bad. I’m pretty sure there are some hot single moms you know who would love to go out with you for dinner or some shit.”

“I’m not interested in any of them,” he shrugs.

“Then what about Y/N?” Harry’s eyes snap up at his friend, flexing his jaw out of instinct.

“What about her?”

“She is pretty, nice and funny, completely your type. Why don’t you try it with her?”

“She works for me,” Harry replies right away.

“No one fucking cares,” Niall scoffs. “And because you didn’t say that you don’t like her, I assume you are into her.”

Harry lets out a heavy sighs shaking his head. You’ve not been the only one who’s been noticing the other. Ever since he has caught you watching him while doing his morning yoga, he couldn’t shake the thought of you and he took a special notice about a lot of things about you. Like the way you scrunch your nose every time you smile when Izzy says a word wrong, or the way you like to put up your hair into a ponytail when you’re playing with her in the backyard and there’s always a tiny strand that hangs lose at the back of your neck because it’s too short to reach up to the ponytail, but his favorite thing is how your voice is a little hoarse in the morning when you come down for the first time from upstairs. The thought that he is always the first person you talk to in the morning just brings this pleasant feeling into the pit of his stomach, something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He can’t deny that he finds you beautiful either, how could he not? You’re just a wonderful person inside and out and he is thankful his daughter is in such good hands when he is away at work. But he hasn’t dared to think further than this, his mind just doesn’t let him, however Niall’s words are now poking at the sleeping giant.

“Stop assuming things,” Harry mumbles, looking away from his friend, feeling like he is being grilled.

“Stop denying things,” Niall retorts, earning a huff from Harry. “Okay, don’t ask her out just yet, but try to get closer to her. Become friends, try to open up and get to know her a little more!”

“I don’t want to get closer to her!” he replies, but he can easily point out how big of a lie that is, even though he is trying his best to make himself believe that it’s not.

“So you don’t have a crush on her?” Niall raises his eyebrows at him.

“Where are we, in middle school? I’m 31, I don’t have crushes,” Harry scoffs.

“Okay so then you don’t mind it if I ask her out?”

“You are not asking her out, Niall,” he sternly replies, reaching for his drink once again, that’s nearing its end very closely. He needs to order another one if Niall decides to be an asshole all night.

“Why not? He seemed to like me when we met, I think we both would have a nice evening, might even take her home—“

“Shut up, Niall. You are not going out with her!”

“Really? What’s stopping me?” he smirks, knowing well what he is doing and where this is heading. Harry opens his mouth, but then no words come out, because he realizes what he wanted to say should not be said out loud.

Because I like her, a tiny voice tells him in his mind. Niall’s smirk grows even bigger, because even though Harry didn’t answer, his face tells it all, confirming what he has been trying to force out of him all evening.

“Yeah, just as I thought,” he laughs, taking a few gulps from his beer. “I’m not telling you to fuck her brains out immediately, but it might be nice if you just got to know her a bit more. And if things seem to take, like… a turn, if you know what I mean, don’t chicken out, just go with it.”

“You know, Niall, you should worry about your own love life the way you worry about mine.”

“There’s nothing to worry about!” He beams, clearly without a worry. “I’m too good of a catch to be tied down, so I’m enjoying life to the fullest right now.”

“Aren’t you tired of waking up next to a different woman every morning?” Harry sighs, feeling exhausted just to think about the way his friend lives.

“Don’t judge for something you never tried. I like it, it fulfills all my needs, why should I change?”

“Because you worry about me ending up alone when it’s most likely gonna be you.” Harry gives him a look, but it doesn’t seem to affect him. He shrugs it off easily.

“Difference is that I like being alone, but you don’t. You are wired to have a partner in the long run while I’m perfectly fine with my adventures. So do me a favor, and be less of a little hermit. You’ll thank me later.”

Niall’s words stick to Harry’s head more than he would have liked it. The two friends stay at the bar until about midnight and while Harry leaves to go straight home, Niall heads to another direction with the pretty waitress on his arm, who served their drinks relentlessly all night.

Arriving back home Harry tips the driver generously before heading inside, seeing that you’re still up, the lights in the living room and the TV illuminating the area. Walking further inside he spots you cozied up on the couch, a thick blanket thrown over yourself as you watch some kind of detective documentary, chewing on your bottom lip in focus. He can’t help the smile that tugs on his lips at the sight of you, taking just a split second to savor the moment and wrap it up in his mind.

“Hey, why are you still up?” he questions walking inside. Your eyes tear away from the screen, blinking up at him as you smile slightly, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Rounding the couch Harry joins you, sitting down as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Got caught up a little,” you chuckle, nodding your head towards the TV. “Did you have a good time?”

“As much as it’s possible to have a good time with Niall around,” he chuckles, making you smile.

“He is not that bad, is he?”

“He can be a little asshole sometimes,” he admits. “But it was fine, we had a nice… talk.”

“I’m glad,” you smile sheepishly, before turning back to the TV.

Harry’s eyes snap to the screen as well, but he is not following the case at all, his mind is busy thinking about everything Niall has told him.

It really has been three long and torturous years without his beloved wife and just as Niall said, the beginning of this time was almost lethal. He never thought there would be a day when he would wake up and not feel like curling up into a ball and just cry all day. Those times are now gone, because with a lot of help from his friends, family and even a therapist, he was able to find his purpose in life again: his daughter.

Harry knows that his friend is right, he can’t live his life on his own, that’s just not how he is built, but it’s not as easy as it seems. Especially with the haunting thoughts he has been harboring, kept away from everyone in his life, because he has always been too afraid to say them out loud. That would make them become even realer than they already feel to him.

Sitting on the couch next to Harry you glance at him for a second and can almost see the gears turning in his head.

“Everything alright?” you softly ask. His green eyes flicker over to you, as if he is debating whether he should talk or not.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you nod.

“But it’s kind of personal.”

“Okay, then ask and I’ll decide if I want to answer or not,” you chuckle softly, pushing yourself up a little so you can focus on him better.

“After things ended with your… ex, when you found out that he was cheating on you… How long did it take you to get back out to the field, if you know what I mean.”

His question surprises you, it really is a personal matter and you’re not sure why he felt the need to ask you about it especially now, but you have a guess why it’s relatable for him. You lost someone you loved and though the situation is a very different nature, somehow it’s still similar in a way.

“Well, I told you earlier that it was the kind of situation where I blamed myself for what he did,” you start off and Harry nods, patiently and curiously listening to what you are saying. “I was convinced that he cheated because I wasn’t enough, because I didn’t give him everything he wanted and that it was all my fault. It took me weeks to see clearly and realize that even if I wasn’t giving him everything, it wouldn’t have given him the right to cheat on me. Sometimes it’s really hard to lift the blame off yourself, especially when you were the one putting it there.”

Harry’s lips part at your words and because he is not speaking, you’re not sure if it’s the good or bad kind. You really wish you could just read his honest thoughts, but it seems like he is keeping them to himself so you continue.

“I think it took me a good, like… four months to actually move on. I went on a date for the first time about six months after Keith and I broke up. I’m not saying I’m over the fact that I was cheated on, but it’s not stopping me anymore to live my life. I had to accept that just because of what happened, I still deserve happiness and to be loved.”

Love is a beautiful thing, but it’s very powerful and you learned it the hard way. To love and be loved is essential, love makes life so much better and more special, but it can also scar you terribly and leave you dried out and in pain. You have to learn to accept the love you get and remember it whenever you are not getting enough. It’s a rollercoaster, but the highs make the whole ride worth it.

Harry stays silent as you turn your attention back at the TV, seeing that he is busy chewing on your words. Whatever his reason was to ask you, he is clearly processing the answer he got, making his own conclusions and you wouldn’t want to bother him while he does that.

The documentary soon ends and you realize how late it really is. Saturday is your day off, but you don’t want to sleep through the whole thing, you have a few errands to run. So switching the TV off you fold the blanket and drop it into the basket next to the couch. Harry snaps out of his thoughts when you stand up from the couch, realizing that you’ve shut the TV off already.

“I’m going to bed, you should too,” you smile at him softly as he nods, standing up as well.

You’re already on the stairs when Harry calls out after you. Turning around you keep one foot on the next step, glancing over at him, still standing by the couch.

“I’m… I’m really sorry he couldn’t appreciate you.”

You smile at him warmly, because it says so much about him as a person. Apologizing for something he had absolutely no control over, something someone else did, someone he doesn’t even know. Yet he still felt the need to say sorry.

“It’s alright. I’ll find the person who’ll give me the love I deserve,” you tell him before turning back around and walking away.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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