#wasn't nearly as sad as i had started this shit out to be

[msgexymunson]

Benefits

Description: Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, weed smoking, virgin Eddie x virgin reader, grinding, fingering, fem oral receiving.

A/N: I just wanted to write a little goofy, not so confident Eddie and this poured out of my brain hole. Enjoy! Reblogs and comments keep me alive so please for the love of all that is smutty reblog if you enjoy it! 

5k words

Masterlist

“All I'm saying is…” you take a big pull of the joint Eddie wiggles at you, his rough fingers brushing your lips. Your voice comes out croaky as hell when you speak, holding the smoke in, “...you can't do the voice.” 

The film plays quietly in the background as you both hang out on his couch, paying little attention to it. 

Eddie scoffs at you, taking the smoke back, and takes a big lug of it himself, hand coming to rest on your bare ankle that was thrown casually over his lap. 

“What you trying to say? You know I can do voices. I could totally do Vader.” 

Giggling, you wiggle your feet as he lightly drags his fingers over them. 

“Don't do that, you know it tickles!” 

Holding his hands up and away from you, you almost miss the contact. Which was insane. This is Eddie, for fucks sake. Your best friend. The asshole who made you nearly piss your pants in seventh grade from tickling too hard, who does stupid shit to get you to smile when you're sad. 

Recently though, the little lingering touches he gives you make your toes curl. Those glances that last a little too long for best friends, the drag of his hand on your back when you move through a crowd. It was crazy, but a part of you couldn't help but think he was feeling the same way. It wasn't like you were in love with the guy, at least not like that. He was almost family. Which made the feelings that you were having sinful in a way that made your thighs clench. 

The flirting didn't help. Eddie flirted as naturally as breathing. He was just so goddamn charming; he had chemistry with everyone. Which made it even more awkward. What if your salacious thoughts weren't reciprocated? Maybe it was just your raging hormones and you needed to keep them in check before you lose your best friend. 

“You're wrong you know.” 

Eddie's words bring you out of the daze you've been falling into; you blink at him, confused. 

“Huh?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, and flashes you a smirk that does nothing to quench the fire inside, right when his large hands move to your waist and tickle you relentlessly. You're gasping giggles as he pins your hands over your head, full weight pressing into you. Somehow, he's got his narrow hips in between your thighs, which is definitely not helping the situation. 

“I can totally do the voice, see?” He drops it two octaves, letting a deep bass voice flow out of him, “Luke, I am your father.” 

Fuck, that shouldn't turn you on, but it did. That, and his forced proximity has you feeling uncomfortably wet. It's embarrassingly seeping into your panties; so much so that you cringe at your body's betrayal. 

He's just so damn close. So close, that you see something fluttering behind those brandy wine eyes of his. Or, was it merely your imagination?

Only one way to find out. 

Biting your lip, you flutter your eyelashes softly and speak in the sexiest voice you can.

“Does that mean I should call you Daddy?” 

Eddie's mouth drops open in a perfect O, eyebrows knitted. 

“You can't- you just- fuck!” 

He clambers off of you in an attempt to put some space between you, crossing his legs on the couch. Eddie looks flustered, cheeks burning red as he looks at you like you just grew an extra head. 

“I can't what, Eddie? Can't tease you like you tease me?” 

“Huh? I don't tease you! When did I-” 

“Oh, pinning me down don't count, huh?” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he blows air out, grabbing a cushion and ramming it in his lap. 

“I didn't mean it like that, it's just, I dunno.” 

Looking down at his hands, he fiddles with his rings. The sheepishness he's showing is adorable, and so unlike him that it stops you in your tracks. Maybe you should just go easy on him, just a little. 

“Don't worry about it Eds, I'm just fucking around.” 

There's a bit of tension released from his shoulders, but he's still not looking at you. 

Fuck, you need another smoke. 

“You want me to roll?” 

“Hell no, I've seen you roll.” 

Scrunching your nose in fake anger, he laughs at you. 

“Look like a little chipmunk when you do that.” 

“All I hear is that you think I'm adorable.” You giggle as he mockingly rolls his eyes. 

“OK, you roll, I'll grab some sodas.” 

Getting up, you smooth your skirt down and walk over to the fridge. The cans are on the lower shelf, so you bend to grab two, making a mental note to tell Eddie to buy some more. 

When you look back, Eddie's slid to the floor, rolling paraphernalia spread out in front of him. It would be a normal scene, if he didn't still have the cushion wedged in his lap and his face wasn't glowing redder than your underwear. 

Underwear… underwear that he might have seen, since you just bent over. And the only reason why he'd keep that cushion in his lap is if he… 

Oh. 

Wordlessly, you put the soda next to his elbow and scoot up on the couch, entirely unsure about what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. The furthest you've ever gone is some over the clothes stuff. 

Plus, this is Eddie. Your stupid, asshole, mean, tormenting, breathtakingly gorgeous best friend. You curse, wriggling a little in your seat. Your panties are so damp they're practically glued to your privates, a heat emanating from you that's making your insides burn. 

“Milady.” 

Eddie holds the joint to you, perfectly rolled and more surprisingly, unlit.

“Eddie, you always take the first toke. Rollers rights, remember?” 

He shrugs and passes it anyway, giving you the lighter too, as he lifts himself onto the couch with both hands, letting his cushion shield drop briefly. Long enough to see the tightness in the crotch of his pants. 

Now the feel of your slick is dampening your thighs. Pushing them together as tight as you can, willing the feeling to dissipate, you light it with trembling hands. One puff, two puffs, pass. As his fingers graze yours, he looks at you appraisingly.

“You alright there sweetheart? Not comfy?” 

Nothings gonna happen if you just sit here and whine like a bitch in your head. Take the leap. 

“It's a little, er, embarrassing.” 

Knees squeezing together so hard it's bordering on painful, you look up at him through your lashes. Eddie's eyes are wide and warm, a light smile wrinkling them at the corners softly. 

“It's only me, come on. You can tell me anything.”

Huffing and wriggling some more, you watch him inhale smoke, and blow it out, a slight pout to his mouth that makes you want to pepper it with soft kisses. Then hard kisses. Then, other stuff. Fuck. 

“It's not- we don't, talk about this kinda stuff. I don't wanna… cross a line, you know?”

“Hey, it's alright.” His thick fingers shakily touch your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. You're not sure if it calms you or makes you worse. It could be both. 

“Fine. Just, don't look at me when I tell you this, ‘kay?” 

There's a little laugh from him, then he rests his head on the back of the couch, eyes staring resolutely to the ceiling. 

“Alright weirdo I'm not looking. Shoot.” 

Tightening your knuckles, your face creases with the effort as you let fly the words that may well end your friendship. 

“I'm uncomfortable, I'm just- fuck, I'm really wet, OK?”

Of all the things you could say, you know Eddie was not expecting you to say that. Especially when he blushes profusely and his grip tightens hard on the cushion in his lap. True to his word, his gaze is directed firmly on the ceiling. 

“That's really-” His voice is broken; squeaky and boyish. He coughs and it comes out much lower, almost comically so. “That's, er, interesting.” 

You can't help it. A crazy laugh shoots out of your throat. An insane laugh. A mental institution laugh. It seems fitting for the situation. Here you are, on Eddie fucking Munson’s couch, telling him how wet you are? You've finally lost it. 

He laughs with you, helping to diffuse some of the awkward energy filling the room.

“Sorry Eddie. It just feels a bit, surreal, you know?” 

Eddie risks a look at you when he hands the joint back. You both stare at each other, each wishing to read the other's mind. 

Remember who you're talking to. This is Eddie. You can talk to him about anything. 

“Listen, Eddie, this is way out of fucking left field but I'm gonna say it. Have you like, done stuff, before?” 

Taking the biggest inhale you can risk without swallowing the roach, you pass the smoke back. There's a very slight shake to Eddie's hand. For some reason it gives you a bit more confidence. His voice wobbles more dramatically than you've ever heard.

“You mean like, sexual, stuff?” 

He finishes the smoke and stubs it out, glancing at you. There's a heat in his eyes that you're not used to seeing. 

“Y-yeah, I mean, honest truth? I've only done over the clothes stuff. Nothing more than that. And you?” 

Eddie coughs, puffing his chest out a little in full man-mode.

“I mean, yeah sure, a bit more than that, you know.” 

You do know. You know by the way he worded that, he's at least not gotten past third base. 

“You're a virgin too then.” 

“Hey!” He huffs, turning to you, “I'm like, way less of a virgin than you are!” 

You laugh loudly, knocking his arm with your fist. 

“Doesn't make you less of a virgin, you idiot.” 

He laughs, shaking his head. 

“Suppose you're right. Some hook-ups ‘round the back of The Hideout don't count for much.”

Reaching for his hand, you brush his knuckles with tentative fingers. 

“Eddie, what I'm trying to say is, well maybe- we could help each other out? I'm a bit… frustrated, and so are you. You know?” 

He squirms a little, recoiling from your touch. 

“What makes you think I'm frustrated?” 

“Eddie, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know why you're grabbing that cushion.” 

He laughs, his special fake laugh he reserves for awkward occasions. That is, until you grab the cushion from his lap and throw it across the room.

He's hard, almost painfully so. It's pressing against his zipper in such a way that you know it must be uncomfortable. You take in a harsh breath as you look at his face. So many emotions seem to be fighting for dominance. Clear arousal, some confusion, a little bit of pity, maybe? Which is the last thing you want to see.

Maybe you were wrong.

“I'm saying that we can help each other. I'm attracted to you. I'm not declaring my love for you or anything. It's not like, some crazy confession. I'm just saying we could… relieve each other.”

“Oh.” His whole demeanour has shifted at your words, “so you don't like, love me, or anything?” 

“Eddie, you are so fucking stupid. Of course I love you, you're my best friend. Just not like that. I mean, I kinda want you to… touch me places, don't mean I want your hand in marriage!” 

His chuckle rings against the tinny walls of the trailer. Then, he looks at you, really looks at you. Biting his lip, he walks his hands toward you, stopping just shy of your constricted knees. 

“Glad you said that. I didn't know how to say that I kinda… well, that I like you, that way, but not like… man, you said it better.” 

And just like that, your Eddie was back. It wasn't weird, far from it. After the way you'd been acting around each other for years, it just made sense. 

You both smile at each other. A genuine, familiar smile. One that hurts your cheeks, that makes your chest fill with warmth. 

“I know this is like, super weird, but it might help, you know?” 

Eddie crawls further towards you, palms splayed on your knees. The simple touch has you quivering. 

“What if it's too weird? I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” 

You smile softly, and unclench your thighs slightly, knees spreading. Enough to make his eyes dart down to your core and back up, laced with want. 

“Tell you what Eds. Kiss me.” 

“And how is that gonna help?”

You laugh, beckoning him forwards. As if on a string, he leans toward you, his rough hands grazing the tops of your thighs. You try to disguise the gasp it elicits from you, but it doesn't seem necessary. Eddie's breathing hard, hard enough to hide any impromptu noises from you. 

“Just kiss me Eddie. If it's weird and gross, we'll laugh about it. If it's, erm, better than that… well, then we can maybe take it a little further.”

Eddie leans in more, hovering over you as your head rests naturally into the armrest. But he stops, inches from your face, hesitating. 

“I don't- shit, I don't know what to do!” 

Laughing loud, you reach out and twirl a section of his hair in your soft hands, adding definition to a curl. 

“Just, use a move on me. You know? Like I'm one of those girls at The Hideout. Come on.” 

He laughs, knuckles dragging over your cheek. 

“That's… this isn't the same. You're not like that ” 

“Fine, just- come on to me. Hit me with your best shot. Just, I dunno, just-”

The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue as he cradles your jaw and presses his full lips softly to yours. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He holds your face almost delicately, tongue lapping gently at your lip until you allow him to slip it inside. 

It's a slow, deliberate thing, as if he's mapping out your mouth in case you never agree to do this again. Not that that's a danger to you. His tongue is burning hot; a slippery warm need, igniting the fire that was already smouldering within you. 

His form relaxes slightly, allowing his weight to drop. His chest falls onto yours, no doubt telling him of the heaving gasps you're taking. You couldn't find it in you to mind, not whilst he's prising your legs open with one knee, his thigh pressing against just where you need it most. 

A moan races out of your mouth and into his, muffled into his chasing tongue. The warmth between your legs is just getting worse, stoked by the pressure of his searching knee. Suddenly there's tension exactly where you need it, the coarse denim of his thigh rubbing hard against your throbbing nub. 

“Eddie, fuck!”

He smiles into your mouth as he pushes his leg harder, groans overtaking his mouth as you use it to chase your pleasure. 

His perfect mouth traces down your jaw, nipping and sucking at your flesh. His thick tongue lathing over your taut muscles, your tiny fingers grasping onto his arms almost pathetically. 

When he breaks away to look at you, eyes searching for doubts, you can't help but think how beautiful he looks. His hair's a little messier than usual, cheeks flushed pink, and those full lips look even plumper than before. 

“Sorry, should have checked in. Was that, alright? Not too weird?” 

You try to slow your breathing, but it's no use. It usually takes you a while to get there on your own, but you were so close to coming on Eddie's leg after a couple of minutes of making out it was almost shameful. 

“I'll say, jeez. I nearly- er, got carried away.” 

“Really?” Eddie's eyes seem to brighten as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a cheeky grin. 

“Don't let that get to your head! I'm just really… needy right now.” 

“Fuck,” he replies, adjusting his bulge, “right, carried away, you say?”

Before you can process what he's said he leaps up, grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. Your giggling squeals echo through the trailer, ringing out like the peals of a bell as he barges into his room and throws you on the bed. Laughing and red faced, with your skirt rucked up around your hips and your arms flung above your head, you notice Eddie's gaze shamelessly skimming to your panties. 

Shaking out of his bare faced revelry he jumps onto the bed next to you, eager as a kid at Christmas. He's on his side, a large hand roaming over your stomach, across your waist, down to your hips and skimming just under your thin sweater. 

“You want me to take this off?” You ask, tugging at the hem. 

“Oh, er- yeah, I-I mean if you- do you want to take it off?” 

Eddie bumbles through his words as you giggle at him, his usual confident demeanour evaporated at the thought of your body. 

“Eddie you dingus, you've literally seen me in my underwear before!” 

“Well, yeah… but that was before you, er, filled out.” 

It was a long time ago. A hot Summer spent running around the trailer park hitting each other with water balloons. You'd almost forgotten how far back it was.

“You don't have to be scared of my boobs ya know.” 

Eddie scoffs, hitting you playfully with a flick of his finger on the tip of your nose. You grab it, trying to bite it but he's pulling it away and you follow. It turns into yet another wrestling match as laughter rings from the pair of you. He tries to hold his hand up high but then you straddle him. 

Suddenly, his arm goes limp and you pull the offending digit into your mouth triumphantly, nibbling softly. It's then you realise you're straddling his stomach and he's completely lost, staring at the way your skirt is wrinkled. 

Play fight discarded, you shimmy down his body and revel in the little shaking breath Eddie makes as you sit gently on his crotch, the hardened bulge pressing into your clothed heat. 

“Fuck, you're so warm.” 

You blush as his fingers dig into your hips as if afraid you'll disappear. 

“You can feel that, through your jeans?” 

He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels straight to your tummy, letting loose a cascade of butterflies. 

“Feel it? It's like a freaking furnace. Bet it'll feel amazing inside you.” 

It's just Eddie, running his mouth; in fact it seems he didn't mean to say that out loud judging by the look on his face. He always has an issue separating outside thoughts and inside thoughts. It was so casually spoken though, you don't think he realised just how dirty it sounded. 

Your fingers smooth up his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact, pulling his shirt up with them. 

“Really hot when you say stuff like that.” 

You're embarrassed admitting it, but you're so turned on that he needs to know how much his words affect you. Mostly so he'll keep using them.

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm.” 

You're dragging nails over his abdomen, tugging his t-shirt higher and higher. He doesn't seem to mind, firm hands pulling your hips slowly back and forth. So you take a shot, and yank it up high. He gets the message, lifting his arms over his head so you can fling it off and away. 

There's no subtlety to the way he pulls at your top, sitting up to wrench it off you. He's panting, eyes raking over your red cotton bra as if you were in the finest lingerie. Then your lips crash together, desperately exploring each other's mouths, teeth clashing in urgency. You collapse on top of him as he holds your hip with one hand, guiding you over his hardness as the other palms your breast over your bra. 

That feeling is back, the burning tingling mass of arousal clutching your insides, growing and growing quicker than ever. You rut against him, each pass sending a zip of sensation all the way from your clit to the tips of your toes. 

Moaning in his mouth, you break away and he nips at your neck, rough fingers snaking into your bra to clumsily rub your nipple. You cling to his waist tightly as the feeling mounts, and mounts, and finally- 

“Eddie! Oh- oh fuckin’ hell!” 

It happens. The thing that had never happened to you outside of your own late night desperate fumblings. It flows like liquid fire through your veins, buzzing across your skin in a wild burning sensation that takes you utterly by surprise. Your sounds are feral; incoherent and needy, as your thighs grasp him firmly as if in fear of him moving away. 

After a loaded silence, whilst you both breathe, and breathe, you finally unclasp your legs around him, falling to the side in an ungainly heap of arms and legs.  

“Well. Holy fucking shit.” you laugh nervously, legs shaking with the after effects.

“So, not too weird?” He smiles, taking the opportunity to get on top of you, arms either side of your head. 

“It's a little weird. Only ever, you know, came, on my own, so yeah.” 

“Yeah?” The cocky look is back, a hand trailing down your shoulder to rest on your breast. 

“Can I take this off, please?” 

You smile and lift your back up so he can slide his hand behind you, fumbling around to try and get the clasp, swearing under his breath. 

“I don't know, can you?” You question, stifling giggles. 

“You could just help me, you know, you-you devil woman- Oh wait I did it!” 

The clasp springs free and Eddie's proud smile nearly splits his face apart as he eagerly pulls down the straps. 

“You're such a goofball.”

“You've got amazing tits, Jesus Christ.” 

Heat flushes your chest and before you can retort he's kneeling between your legs, hot mouth sucking roughly on a nipple. Words fail you, your body the only thing talking as you arch your back and push toward his greedy lips. Letting go with a loud pop, he sucks a hickey right in the middle of your sternum, running his thumb over the wet mark after. 

“I wanna go down on you.” He blurts it out, spill words tugging out of his lips before he can stop them. 

“You wanna what?” You respond, dazed as he looks up at you, eyes full of fire. 

“I wanna use my mouth on you. Down here.” 

He drags his fingers low, pressing one just to the top of your mound. 

“You really want to?” As far as you're aware, that's not a thing guys tend to want to do. At least that's what you've heard. Eddie seems to be an exception. 

“More than anything.” He's brutally honest, eyes wide and begging. 

“I mean, if you want to, sure.” 

“OK, shit, just wait a sec.” 

Getting up so fast it must make his head spin, he unbuttons his jeans and wrestles them down his legs, tossing them away. The tent in his boxers makes your eyes widen.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he climbs back on the bed. 

“Sorry, just so fuckin’ hard it hurts.” 

Nothing can stop the whimper that shoots out of your mouth at his words. Again, he's just being honest, but he doesn't seem to understand how sexy it is. 

Moving to unzip your skirt, he bats your hand away to do it himself. Before he pulls it off, he looks at you nervously. 

“Just, let me know if you don't like something. Or if you do. I've er, I've not done this before so lower your expectations.” He laughs it out, embarrassment coating each word. 

“I thought you had a bunch of hook ups at The Hideout?” You tease, smirking at him. 

“Right, full disclosure, I've erm, used my fingers before, a few times. And once- once some girl tried to give me head and I busted in like three seconds, OK?” 

He grabs a bunch of his hair and hides behind it while you chuckle. 

“Eddie, it's fine, I'm glad you told me. It's just me. I'm not gonna judge you, you know that.” 

“Yeah, of course.” The breath he lets out is loud, tension melting from his body, and he bends to pull your skirt down and off. Your panties are next; they cling to your core so much it makes you cringe, but he doesn't seem to mind. 

“Can you, spread your legs a little sweetheart?” His voice is husky, eyes staring straight at your pussy. Feeling exposed, you do as he asks, fighting the urge to pull away from his gaze. 

“Look at you. Beautiful.” 

Smiling at his words, it turns into an open mouthed gasp as he strokes his fingers softly through your folds. 

“Fuck me, you're soaked.” 

Then his tongue is slipping across you, feeling tentatively as he keeps your legs wide with his rough palms. It's different; wet and messy, but it's incredible. The pleasure increases tenfold as his wandering mouth finds your clit. 

“Eddie, right there, right there!” 

He groans, pushing his face into you so hard you can feel the vibrations from the noise. He's moving his tongue up and around it, making an absolute mess of spit and slick over you. Suddenly he tries sucking and your back leaves the bed, hands coming to clutch at his hair. 

“Oh my God, do that again, please please, oh fuck!” 

He does it again, and again, smoothing each suckle with a flat lick from his tongue. Fingers graze your hole suddenly, making you jump. As you look down you see Eddie's entirely consumed by what he's doing, rutting himself into the mattress like an animal. One finger breaches you, feeling around, pumping slowly in and out. It's good, but it's not great. 

You feel ashamed even trying to guide him but you attempt to shake it off. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” He looks up, an almost dazed expression in his eyes. 

“Can you- can you curl your finger upward?” 

“Like this?” 

Your reaction is instantaneous, hips rucking up to his touch. 

“Fuuuck.” 

“Yeah? That good, sweetheart?” 

That smugness is back but it isn't in you to care. There's no words, just little whimpers and moans as you grab him by the hair and push his mouth back where you need it. 

When he adds another finger, you're gone. Your walls are clenching around him, sucking him in as the feeling of his thick digits stretching you fills your entire being. Dots dance in your vision as your whole body feels fuzzy, tingles whispering over your skin. You cry out as the feeling escalates, bubbling through you until you can't see, can't think, clawing at Eddie's head until you reach an impossible precipice. Then, it explodes, showering you in waves, over and over. 

“Oh my God that was amazing, fuck Eddie, you're incredible, I never came that hard in all my life, Jesus Christ!” 

You're babbling, you know, bubbles of platitudes popping out of your mouth in almost nonsensical sounds as your legs twitch like crazy. 

Eddie scoots up a little, face pressed into the plush of your stomach. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Leaning up on your elbows, you pull his hair a little making him look at you. 

“You alright there? What'd you say?” 

Eddie laughs, kissing your tummy, face flushed pink. 

“I said I fuckin’ came in my pants.” 

Then he hides again, as if your skin can cover his embarrassment. 

“Eddie, come here you dope.” 

He climbs up you, leaning on quivering arms. The front of his boxers pushes on your sticky core. 

“Don't worry about it, that's kinda hot.” 

“Yeah? You're hot. That was, wow. I think I found my favourite place.” 

You giggle, pressing kisses to his lips. There's still traces of you on him but you don't care. 

“Can you tell me what you said again?” He asks, grin fighting to envelop his whole face. 

“Huh?” 

“You know, how I'm the most incredible lover in existence.” Waggling his eyebrows at you, he strokes a wayward hair off of your sweaty forehead. 

“I did not say that!” 

“I'm paraphrasing, it was pretty close.” 

You hit him on the chest playfully and he falls to the side in a terrible act of mock pain. Crawling on top of him, you continue to smack him, fake punches thrown at his ribs. 

“OK, you win, I cannot best you!” 

Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles and you melt against him, pressing soft kisses to his mouth. They turn harder, tongues massaging each other as he runs his hands down your back. 

You break away to plant a single kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“Maybe in a bit, you know, when you've… recovered…” 

Dragging your nails down his lean chest you look up at him, biting your lip. 

“We can… go all the way?” 

Eddie's face lights up. He grabs you and flings you down so he's on top, kissing your neck and jaw sloppily as you squeal at the sudden onslaught. 

“Yes, fuck yes, gimme like two minutes, five tops.” 

Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM so I don't lose the request, thank you)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[1d1195]

Honey III

Read Honey here | ~7.8k words

From Me: It's slow going here timewise. I just have a lot to say.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, pining, more of a daddy-kink if you don't blink. Some jealous Harry (NIALL 😍) and some mentions of self-care 😉

Summary: “Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked.

“Hmm?”

“I love Cece.”

Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one...and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”

Harry nearly sprinted into his home just like he had in his dream. He was so excited to kiss Cece as much as humanly possible. But when he got there the house was silent. Not a single light was on in any of the main rooms that should have been on. Even if it was in the middle of the day, the kitchen light was almost always on. Harry frowned wondering why on earth she would take his daughter out when she knew he was going to be home today.

Right about lunchtime, he decided it was a half day for himself since he missed Cece so much.

Which is why he was so sad she wasn't there. He went to the garage to see the car he left for her was gone which meant she purposefully left with his daughter.

He called her immediately. Curious more than anything but became irritated once it didn’t go through. Where the fuck was she that she didn't get service? He frowned and ran a hand through his hair looking at the messages she sent earlier in the morning and realized she hadn’t sent her normal mid-morning update. Harry felt a hot, creeping feeling start from his toes and it flowed all the way up his body.

What the fuck?

He called Niall. He was of course still at the office, and he was hoping maybe she was trying to surprise him. “Is Cece there?” He asked.

“What did she drive herself?” He snorted.

“Niall," he grumbled.

“No of course not. What’s wrong?”

“They’re not here,” his voice flat, irritated.

Niall didn’t say anything. Which told him that he was right to be confused and worried. “Oh,” he murmured.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Her phone's not connecting.”

“Shit,” he sighed. “Hold on... let me...” he hung up and Harry paced looking at the ceiling. After a moment he called back. “Nothing,” he frowned. “Listen, you trust her, and she loves Cece. She knows how much you missed her so if she left with her, it was for a good reason. Check your cameras.”

Harry put it on speaker and searched through the last few hours of footage. She left almost two hours ago—right around when he got the first of his daily picture updates. There was nothing other than seeing her car leave so there wasn’t anything to go off as far as where she was headed.

“Hold on,” Niall said and hung up again. Harry paced hands shaking as he tried to cling to the control he desperately wanted. When he called back, Niall took a deep breath. “Okay, she’s fine. So just don’t freak—”

“Niall spit it the fuck out!” He snapped.

“She’s at the hospital and—”

Harry slammed his phone on the counter so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if it was shattered—his phone or his counter, maybe both. He sped twenty miles over the limit the entire way. He parked in a tow zone and headed directly to the desk and presented what little information he knew. He was directed to the pediatric ward.

“Harry!” She shouted in shock as she hurried to him entering the floor and looking around for help. The dream he had of kissing the perfect girl was long gone. His trust in her was cracking like thin ice on a pond. He didn’t want it to, but what was he supposed to think? How could she do this?

“Where is she?” He snapped. Anger and hurt on his face. She blinked in surprise, confused by how mad he looked and why it was directed at her.

“She’s right—” She pointed toward the door and Harry shoved his way in without even letting her finish.

Cece was gazing up at the lights and other than a flush of color on her face, she looked perfectly normal. “Hello, sweet girl,” Harry cooed. His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He hunched over the bed made for a little kid, but she was of course so tiny it made his heart ache. He felt tears sting the back of his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked. Cece smiled, delight dancing in her pretty eyes as she recognized Harry. As if she wasn’t in a hospital and he hadn't seen her in over two days.

“Harry,” she said from behind him. She was holding a cup of coffee in her hands as she watched the pair of them. Harry was fuming. Pretty sure he had literal steam coming out of his ears from how hot he felt. But when he glanced back at her, there was one small part of him that couldn’t help but notice she looked exhausted. As exhausted as Harry felt his anger boiling him from the inside. “I tried all day to get in touch with you.”

The small reprieve he had from seeing her exhaustion was gone. Anger coursed through him with a vengeance, and he turned away from his favorite little baby and looked at her.

His eyes narrowed into a glare. He shook his head disappointment all over his face. “How could you fucking do that?” He snarled.

She blinked, surprised by his tone directed at her, completely flooring her. “I tried—”

“You could have tried harder,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what y’did t’me just now? You know how terrified I am of losing her,” his voice felt off. Strangled by his own emotion. “This is unacceptable. How dare you—”

But she doesn’t even flinch when he yelled; instead, she glared right back at him. Stepped toward him, bitterness in her expression, her tone, and her body language. “I tried, Harry,” she snapped just as irritated as Harry had. “I have called every number I had access to. I tried to contact your mom and sister through social media, but they must have private accounts. I tried everything. I called every person at your company, and they kept transferring me to your incompetent secretary so don’t fucking yell at me like I didn’t do everything I could have done,” she pulled her phone from her pocket and threw it the short distance at him which he caught easily. “Go ahead, go through every app and message, I’ve spent hours on the phone,” she assured him. “There’s no goddamn service here on top of that, so I kept using the nurse’s phone. I tried, Harry. I would never try to scare you like that by leaving you in the dark.”

Harry glanced down at the list of numbers with multiple calls to numbers from his company he recognized the grouping, all the numbers off by one for the different sectors. Each listing had a minimum of three missed calls most were closer to ten. Throughout the listings, Harry's name appeared, five, eight, six, at least fifty he had to imagine at the end of it. Niall had about the same. There was a plethora of messages sent to his phone too. Not sure you're getting these, but nothing is working. This is a shitty way to say it but we're at the hospital. Everything's okay, I just want to get her fever down. Niall’s thread had similar messages along with He's going to hate me :(

Harry's heart ached. He never received the messages, and knowing that one to Niall broke his heart most of all.

How could not one of her calls or messages have reached him?

“I take my job so seriously Harry. Of course I wanted you to know before I brought her here. But you entrusted me with Cece’s care and wellbeing and I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. I talked to your secretary over and over and she didn’t pass the message on because you were in meetings and refused to interrupt even though I begged. Niall’s phone worked either. I tried everything short of leaving her here alone and coming to get you myself.”

Harry flinched. He would never want her to do that. Leaving Cece alone was one of his worst fears.

How could his secretary not pass along messages about his daughter? Harry was so angry and now, he had someone to actually be angry at. “Fuck,” he snapped and headed out of the room.

“Where are you—”

Harry marched out of the room up to the desk station in the middle of the floor. He reached over and grabbed one of the phones without asking. The nurse closest to him opened her mouth to answer but after looking at Harry briefly, his intimidating stature, and anger rolling off him in hot waves, she thought better than to deny him the phone.

“Niall,” he ground out when the phone stopped ringing. His teeth hurt.

“I think I figured it out... The work phones have been wonky all day for everyone. I contacted the phone company--” Niall answered without waiting for Harry.

“Are y'still at the office?” His voice was low, angry as hell.

“Yeah... of course. How is she?"

"Fine."

"Are you sure? Fuck, Harry... that was so bad. I guess since we have personal phones through the work offer—”

He didn't have time for this. “Fire my secretary, Niall.”

“What?” Niall shook his head forgetting his train of thought about the phones.

“Tell her t'pack her shit and go,” he snapped and slapped the phone down into the receiver making the nurse bounce in her seat.

He turned to find her standing in the doorway between him and his daughter. “I’m sorry,” his voice was raw, and he ran a hand over his tired face. “I shouldn’t have...” he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to quell the emotion in his throat and eyes. “I can’t lose her,” he murmured.

Then, as if he hadn’t just implied that he didn’t trust her, she sighed. “Of course not,” she whispered. “I swear, I was doing—”

“I know,” he shook his head. “I know, I’m sorry. M’sorry I implied otherwise. I shouldn’t have—”

“Forget it,” she waved her hand flippantly. She crossed the few feet of space between her and Harry and she grabbed his hand. It felt so warm, so safe. She squeezed his hand and tugged him back to the room. “Come see her, she missed you,” she tilted her head toward the room. It was forgotten. The way he yelled at her. The way he insinuated she was anything but trustworthy.

Harry felt shaky and broken but glad she was there to keep him from freaking out. Glad she was willing to overlook his anger even if he knew he didn't deserve it. How quickly that feeling of being broken, cheated on, and lied to returned and made him feel worse than any of the times he had experienced before. She had no idea how much she had changed him and she hadn't done anything other than care for his baby.

Once in the room, he shook his head and focused his attention to his precious angel sucking on her pacifier happily and quietly in the hospital bed. “I will say though," she dropped Harry's hand as she crouched on one side of the bed and brushed her fingers over her cheek. "She looks pretty freaking cute in this big bed,” she whispered a smile in her voice.

Harry couldn’t argue. Cece looked cute as hell everywhere though. He wanted to smother her little face with kisses until she giggled. A smile played at the corners of his lips. “She’s okay?” He asked quietly. He should have asked that first rather than exploding at her. Even if he was mad, it should have been his first concern.

“Just a fever,” she promised. “Comes with the earache and cold she’s got," she frowned. "Poor baby woke up in the middle of the night. Inconsolable," she explained. "The medicine wasn't helping after a while and I wanted to be safer than sorry. Little miss scared me half to death,” she sighed her worried expression breaking Harry's heart. No wonder she was exhausted. At least Harry had a full night's sleep. He was getting a new phone company tomorrow. “But she’s on the mend now. Some stronger meds and whatnot. I hope that’s okay.”

“You hope that y’deciding t’give her medicine that will make her feel better is okay with me, after I screamed at you?”

She smiled wryly. Like she was keeping a secret. She rested a hand on Cece's leg over the blanket while Harry brushed his thumb along her face. It felt right holding his sweet baby with her looking at Cece like she was the most amazing thing to ever grace the earth (and she was, but Harry didn't know someone not related to her could feel that way). “To be fair," she sighed and squeezed her leg. "If my daughter were in a hospital and I didn’t know, I would have burned the whole city down until I found her.”

Harry smirked. “Thank you,” he hoped the sincerity in his voice made up for how terribly he treated her. “I’m sorry about the phone issue. It won’t happen again,” he assured her.

"Don't mention it, Harry," she smiled.

*

Harry woke with a start in the middle of the night. He sat up and went to the kitchen to get a drink of water, feeling emotionally drained. The hospital visit ended only a couple hours after he arrived. Because his car had been promptly towed after his arrival, he drove Cece and Miss Honey in her car on the way back home. She sat with Cece in the backseat without asking but Harry was extremely grateful.

Once he finished his glass of water, he peeked inside of the fridge. It was stuffed with several containers of yummy food she had made the last couple days. Half of them were labeled for Niall with hearts all over the sticky notes that made him roll his eyes.

The other half were labeled Dada with a single heart, but Harry thought the one heart was more important than all the ones Niall had.

He smirked and glanced around at all the decorations she had put up for Halloween, making his house feel like a home. It hadn’t felt like that in all the time he lived there. As he returned to his bedroom, he thought he would make a pitstop in Cece’s room.

Harry was an idiot to adamantly deny his feelings for Miss Honey. He was serious when he told Niall how perfect she was. At the time, he had convinced himself that it was because she was perfect for Cece. But if he wasn't in love with her before, he was now.

She laid across the area rug tucked part way under Cece’s crib. A pillow held below her head like she was hugging it, and her adorable seasonal blanket draped across her. But it didn’t reach her toes. Her eyebrows were pinched together like she was having a bad dream. Harry didn’t want her lying on the floor, but he didn't want to wake her either. She had a longer day than he did. His heart clenched knowing how much she adored Cece. How she would do anything for his little baby.

Harry grabbed one of the many fluffy blankets in Cece’s collection beneath the window. He spread it over her to cover her legs, making sure her feet were got wrapped up too. The crinkle of her eyebrows disappeared as he did which only tightened the bubble around his heart.

Grabbing another blanket from her basket, he settled into the chair. No way he could go back to his room knowing his favorite women were in one room. After watching both of them for a time, he fell asleep.

*

When she woke up, she stretched, her back creaking from the hard surface she slept on. But other than sleeping in the crib with Cece, this was as close as she could have gotten and it was well worth it to ease the anxiety she felt from the previous day. Getting to her knees, she sighed again, leaning low to stretch her lower back, her forehead touching the floor as she bowed backward. It was still early. Too early for even Cece to be awake.

The nightlight plugged into the wall was soft and painted the room in a warm, gentle, yellow glow. She peered at Cece through the slats of her crib and smiled—she was sleeping soundly, no pain, no fever. Just a little stuffy. “You scared me, pretty girl,” she whispered quietly.

“Me too,” Harry’s deep voice spooked her because she hadn’t registered that he was snuggled cutely into the chair that she assumed was used for late night feedings back in the first couple months of Cece’s life--split between Harry, his mum, and his sister. She pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart. Her cheeks felt warm. If she had been turned away from Cece’s crib, she would have noticed his presence, but her yoga pose was done without thought and now she felt embarrassed that her boss saw her stretching her lower back out.

His voice was raspier in the morning. His eyes seemed tired but still as beautiful as he always was. She could see he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and she wondered if he had forgone the sweats again as he had when he saved her from the front step. Biting the inside of her cheek she swallowed. “I just... didn’t want to leave her alone,” she admitted glancing briefly back at Cece, her little chest rising and falling easily. Then she turned back to Harry.

His smile was was so gentle, so sweet, it made her stomach twist. “Thank you," he looked beyond her for a minute at his daughter and then returned his gaze to hers. "I was going t’wake you. But y’had a long day.”

Her cheeks warmed again. She tried to remind herself that Harry was her boss, and it wasn’t okay to fuck him with her eyes regardless of how his half open eyelids screamed sex like he just had an orgasm. What was it with getting so turned on by him in the middle of the night?

When he had pulled her from her book in nothing but sweatpants a few nights prior, she thought it was almost worse than the boxers. She had to keep her eyes above his waist but there were even more sinful things to think about looking at his pecs and broad shoulders. It worked wonders for when she got back to her room and slipped her hand into leggings and pressed circles over her depressingly underused clit. It was not good to think about him like that. Not when just a hallway separated the pair of them.

Not when his infant daughter was sleeping in the very same hallway.

“Harry?” She whispered looking back at the little girl as a distraction from thinking about Harry’s abs. Or the way his thighs looked. She needed a safe thought. Something she could tell him that wouldn't get her fired.

“Hmm?”

“I love Cece.”

Harry grinned, looking a little lovestruck himself over the little one... and her nanny. “I know,” he nodded. “She loves you too.”

*

When Harry came home the following day with a mountain of papers and a laptop, she hurried to the door and grabbed as much as she could with her free hands while Cece stayed attached to her hip in the wrap. “Thank you,” he smiled. “Hi sweet girl,” he cooed and bent slightly to the height of Cece at her waist. He kissed her forehead.

“What is all this?” She asked, carrying what she had grabbed toward the kitchen.

“I fired my secretary,” he said as explanation.

“Jesus,” she blinked and deposited the papers on the kitchen island. She had a feeling that was what his call to Niall was at the hospital yesterday. So, she knew why. She felt guilty for calling her incompetent and for causing this mess.

“She made a mess of everything. I spent most of the day trying to organize it, but frankly I haven’t a clue as to what some of it is,” he ran a hand along the back of his head. Harry pulled the suitcoat he wore off where his sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the top two buttons were undone. He was way too hot for her own good. For her own good. “I’m exhausted,” he admitted.

She frowned. She couldn’t imagine. He didn’t sleep much before his trip. Nor during—not if the late-night texts asking about Cece were any indication as he worried about her fussing prior to his departure. Paired with a delayed flight, Cece’s hospital visit, and what was probably a much less comfortable sleep in a chair before getting up to do it all over again? She wanted Harry to go to bed right that second. But he had to be hungry. She knew he hadn’t eaten breakfast, and something told her he probably skipped his two o’clock meal as well.

“Well, I made dinner,” she offered and hurried to the stove and Cece gurgled a cute little noise on her hip. “I know,” she smirked knowingly as if it really made any sense. “Dada’s hungry too,” she kissed the top of her head as she scooped the stew she had made into a bowl. She put a piece of the special bread she bought for the occasion in the toaster oven and then worked on Cece’s bottle. When she turned around holding the bowl of stew, the bread balancing on the rim, and Cece’s bottle in her other hand, Harry was staring at her. “What?” She blushed and tried to catch a glance of her backside in case she sat in something in between cooking steps. “Do I have something on my—”

“No,” he shook his head and grabbed the bowl from her hand. “Thank you,” his voice was low, deep.

She nodded and held the bottle out as well. “Do you want to hold her now?" She wanted Harry to eat, but she also knew he wanted to hold his baby for as long as possible before bed.

He seemed to be in a trance as he took a few bites of his stew and watched her and Cece. “Yeah,” he murmured eventually and held his arms out for his baby. “Hi baby,” he cooed and peppered her cheek with kisses. “Are you feeling better?” He asked bouncing her gently.

Harry, without holding a baby, with sleeves rolled up like that was one of the hottest things she had ever seen. Holding a baby? She shook her head trying to get the circuits running because she was pretty sure she forgot why Harry was asking if Cece was feeling better.

“Right, we need to give her medicine actually,” she said glancing at her watch as if she just remembered. When she looked back at Harry, she realized he probably hadn’t once given his own daughter medicine, and he had no clue what to do. Without thinking any more of it, she grabbed the medication, and the liquid syringe dropper needed. “Alright, girly, I know it’s not your favorite,” she smiled. “But it’ll make you feel better, here we go,” she aspirated the medicine into the syringe and brought it to her mouth. “She’s going to fuss,” she warned Harry. Harry nodded and held her like she did when she got her shots at the doctor’s office. She gently put the dropper into her mouth and depressed a few drops. “Hold her chin so her mouth stays closed,” her tone was gentle, instructive without demanding. She watched as the frustration appeared on her little face and she grunted and squirmed in Harry’s arms. Gently she ran her fingers down her little neck encouraging her to swallow. Harry watched her every movement.

“How do y’know what t’do?” He asked.

She smiled. “Classes, Google, experience.”

“Experience?”

“My youngest brother is fifteen years younger than me,” she explained. “Mom had to go back to work, so I babysat a lot. But it didn’t feel like it. Honestly, he felt a lot like my baby. My mom was great, don’t get me wrong, but I would kill for that kid even though he barely talks to me now because he’s a cool, broody teenager.”

Harry smirked. “Do you have other siblings?”

“Yeah. I have an older brother. Three years older. But I also feel like his mom.”

He chuckled. “I think sisters are superheroes.”

“Why thank you,” she put a hand on her heart and smiled like she was winning an award. Harry chuckled again and helped with the remainder of Cece’s medicine. “That was so yucky, huh?” she crouched in front of Cece’s eyeline. “So yucky,” she wrinkled her nose and giggled at her. Cece gurgled back and smiled at her. “Let’s eat the good stuff,” she smiled and plucked the cap off the bottle for Harry before grabbing a bowl of her own. “Do you want more?” She asked.

“M'still working on this one,” he jutted his chin toward the bowl. She looked at the papers on the counter beside them.

“Is this organized by person or by file type?” He stared at her for several long seconds as if that was the most ridiculous question she could ever ask. “Alright,” she smirked. “When you ask for a file, do you want the whole bit from the person/company/etc. or do you want all the same files bunched together?”

“I would probably want everything from the same company,” he yawned. “I think she had it the opposite way. Or maybe she messed it up on purpose before she left. This is only an eighth of it. I couldn’t be in that room anymore.”

“You didn’t hire another secretary?” She asked blowing on the bite of her food that steamed visually in front of her. It seemed like something Harry would have in surplus.

“They were all women,” he grumbled.

“Mr. Styles,” she tutted. “What happened to we’re superheroes?” She frowned.

He rolled his eyes. “You are a superhero,” he said simply making her stomach flip. The pause seemed infinite as he let that title settle over her. “Mum, Gemma, Cece, even Cece’s mum...” he trailed off looking at her in a way that made her feel special. “I can’t have anyone who puts m’daughter’s life at the bottom of a priority list work for me,” he explained.

“Harry,” she clucked. “She wasn’t a good secretary. You can’t swear off—”

“No. This is my decision, love. Also, I made everyone program your phone number into their phones today. And whoever is m’next secretary has a laminated index card next t’the phone that says even if m’in the middle of a meeting with the Secretary-General of The UN, they’re t’forward your call t’me,” he said it so casually and with his chin on the bottom of Cece’s bottle holding it upright, he continued eating his own food hungrily. “This is delicious,” he remarked.

Her heart fluttered. “You... you gave my phone number to everyone?”

“I never want there t’be another emergency, but if there is,” he shrugged. “I want you t’be able t’get in touch with me,” he sighed, looking at the papers on the counter and shook his head. “M’gonna put her t’bed,” he scooped her up. “Can y’leave that on? S’really good. M’gonna have more while I work on this," he nodded to the pile of papers there. "Niall might not even get any tomorrow, I might eat it all," that didn't surprise her. She needed to figure out how to get him to eat at lunch time.

She frowned and nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Say night-night, Cece,” he cooed and kissed the top of her head. “Say I love you, Miss Honey, thanks for taking care of me and feeding me yucky medicine,” her smile overtook the frown, and she grabbed Cece’s little hands as she kissed her forehead while Harry faced her forward. It felt unbearably sweet. Sweeter than any bedtime routine she had witnessed while babysitting her brother, or anyone else, or the kids she nannied before Cece.

“Good night, sweet girl,” she pinched at her little belly making her giggle before Harry took her to bed.

*

She heard Harry’s shower pipes whine from down the hall after he finished putting Cece to bed. While he was out of earshot, she finished putting away the dishes that were clean from the dishwasher. Then she looked at the stack of papers on the counter and started to sift through them. Fortunately, the names were at the top of the files, so it was easy to differentiate, and she began to make piles. She turned her phone on low and played gentle music so as not to disturb her concentration nor the sleeping baby (even if she wasn’t going to hear it from upstairs anyway).

Every paper was different so she could see how it would be overwhelming. Especially if there was a whole room of it. Poor sleepy Harry. She was so entranced and humming to her music that she didn’t notice Harry had reappeared. “What are y’doing?” He asked.

She jumped in surprise, the handful of papers she was holding fluttered to the floor. “Sorry!” She grabbed them swiftly and then stood back up smacking her head on the bottom of the counter. “Shit!” She hissed, rubbing the back of it.

Suddenly there were hands on her waist. Gently pushing her to the stool he previously sat in for dinner. Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and tossed them haphazardly into one of her organized piles. “Are you alright?” Harry asked concern in his voice. He went to the freezer immediately as she was seated then came back with a bag of frozen green beans to place at the back of her head as he looked intently into her eyes.

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Just...clumsy.”

Harry’s free hand was on her thigh, whether he meant it to be there intentionally or not, she wasn’t sure, but she was glad it was. It was warm and big. It felt comforting even if she only bumped her head and nothing more. Also, it would be good fodder for the fire between her thighs when she went back to her room later and thought about the other things that Harry had that were warm and big. “What are y’doing?” He repeated, looking at the counter right over her shoulder.

“I thought I would organize—” His expression was weird again. Like when he was watching her scoop his stew into a bowl. “What?” She asked.

“Nothing,” he shook his head quickly. “Just... m’very grateful for you, love. Niall says I don’t say it enough and I think he’s right. Cece and I would be lost without you.”

Her cheeks felt warmer from the compliment, but she snorted out a breath of laughter. “Niall is just jealous that you get to eat the food I make fresh,” she teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Are you okay?” He asked putting the green beans on the counter and running his fingers along the back of her skull very softly. It felt so intimate, and the motion went right between her legs. She nodded trying to keep her breathing even as she answered.

“I’m okay,” she hoped the waver in her voice didn't give her away.

He smiled and replaced the veggie bag on the back of her head. “Thank you, love,” Harry’s gaze was so filled with gratitude and warmth it felt like she was going to catch on fire.

*

Everything okay? Harry’s message read. She hadn’t sent any updates in hours. She didn’t need to. It was her day off and she didn’t even need to answer Harry if she didn’t want to, but he was so nervous that she wouldn’t. He missed her, plain and simple.

Fortunately, she answered before he got too worried. Completely. Just finished up my last appointment.

Just checking, you don’t need to rush. I can tell Cece just misses you :)

She smiled feeling guilty she was spending the day away from her favorite four-month-old. But she liked making appointments like this. It was easy to get them all done in one go, doctor, dentist, gyno, nails, and hair. Her last appointment was her haircut; she got several inches cut off making her feel lighter and bouncier. The blowout was fresh, making her feel brighter for whatever reason, too. She probably only needed a half day, but she thought some retail therapy would be her reward for a long stressful weekend. When she got home, she hoped to see Cece before her nap time, help with the medicine if Harry wanted (he did a great job on his own this morning but asked if she could watch to be sure), and then she planned on having her own, very needed, naptime.

She was headed to her favorite clothing store when she passed Harry’s office building. Without registering her own thought process, she was parked on the main road, and in his building before she realized.

The bustle of Harry’s main office floor never ceased to amaze her. The security guard at the floor entrance tipped his hat at her arrival. “Where’s Miss Cecelia today?”

“Daddy-daughter day,” she smiled and headed for the door labeled with Harry's name on it. Her nap was forgotten and she only thought about how he had brought those papers home and because she had asked to take the day off, he would be stuck with these again tomorrow.

She waved to a couple people who recognized her, two of whom complimented her hair. When she got to his office it was stacked with papers on every available surface. Even she got overwhelmed by the look of it.

She felt even more terrible that she asked Harry to take the day off when this was left for him.

She entered his office without catching anyone else's attention, started the quiet music from the night before, and got to work.

*

Cece was halfway through her afternoon nap when Harry sent a picture to the pretty woman who normally sent pictures to him at this time. He hadn’t heard from her in a while and was getting worried. It was odd that he didn’t worry about her when he was at work, but perhaps it was the comfort of her at his home being the perfect person to help raise his daughter.

I thought you didn’t hire a new secretary?

He read Niall’s message twice trying to figure out what joke he was playing at. He called him quickly. “I didn’t?”

“Well, there’s a woman in your office.”

Harry thought this week was destined to kill him mentally. He blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand over his face in exasperation. “Well, call security!” He snapped.

“Wait a second...” he trailed off.

“Wait a second!? Niall! There’s a stranger in my office!”

He knocked on the door to what he assumed was his office. Knocked. Like he was interrupting someone doing important business and not stealing trade secrets.

“I didn’t recognize you with your hair like that, darling. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Harry could hear him grinning and almost immediately Harry realized who was in his office. Then, Harry heard the most beautiful laugh through the phone line and his heart squeezed with affection. The feeling of affection was directly replaced with jealousy that Niall was near her when all he wanted was to see her. “She got a haircut,” Niall narrated into the phone. “She looks beautiful,” he said to both of them.

“I’m going to kill you,” he growled.

“What are you doing?” Niall asked, ignoring Harry’s threat. He put the phone on speaker while he scooped up his sleeping daughter and placed her in her car seat. He already knew what she was doing and if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, he would probably kill her shortly after killing Niall when he got back to the office.

“Harry... papers... I’d help,” her voice was just far enough away from the speaker that he couldn’t catch every word. He grabbed the bag that was always ready to go for his little love and slipped it over his shoulder as he marched to the garage carrying Cece in tow and listening to his best friend flirt with the insanely perfect woman he lived with.

“That’s so nice of you,” Niall said sincerely. Harry let the call switch to his car, and he hurried to get to the office listening in on the conversation.

“Hardly,” she said flippantly. Her voice was closer now. “Harry brought some home yesterday and I felt bad that there was so much. He’s had a really long week.”

Harry glanced at the monitor on his dashboard catching sight of his pretty girl still sound asleep and notched up his speed.

“How long have you been here?”

She paused, maybe looking for a clock. “An hour, two hours?” There was a shrug in her voice again.

Harry stepped on the gas a little harder again.

“No one saw you?”

“The security guard did.”

Harry was going to have a serious talk with him too.

“Harry, do you have anything you want to say to her?” Niall asked.

“No,” he grumbled.

“Hi Harry,” her voice was soft, velvety. Harry couldn't fall in love. He didn't love anyone but his baby, his company, and his family. But where did that put her? He hired her to take care of his pride and joy, but this was beyond anything he could have anticipated. She was doing it out of the kindness of her heart.

“Hi, love,” he tried to lighten his voice. He wasn’t mad at her. Well, he kind of was. He had hoped she was using her day to enjoy herself not worry continually about Harry.

“I think I messed up,” she stage-whispered to Niall.

“He’s fine,” he whispered back in the same way.

Harry rolled his eyes listening to their inane conversation. After what seemed like an eternity, he found his usual parking spot before getting Cece from the backseat as well as her bag. He rushed into the building and made his way to his office without so much as looking at his employees.

She managed to organize as much paperwork in two hours as Harry did in a day. “Oh hello, my sweet girl,” she smiled at the waking baby and pulled the seat from Harry’s grip. She tugged the baby from the seat and held her against her chest and kissed the top of her head repeatedly. “I missed you,” she hummed.

“Wish you greeted me that way, darling,” Niall smiled mischievously only to get a rise out of Harry which worked incredibly well based on the way he glared at Niall.

She smirked and shook her head. “Reserved for Miss Cece only,” she squeezed her closer and inhaled her scent. “Did you have fun with Daddy?” She cooed.

Daddy Niall mouthed at Harry, a knowing smirk on his face. Harry shoved Niall, dropping the bag beside her car seat and started looking through the stack of papers she was working on while she and Niall fawned over Cece.

“Don’t y’have work t’do, Niall?”

“Figured I deserved a Cece break,” he said. “But while you’re here, I have the applicants for your secretary.” Harry ignored him and continued the work she started. Although it was obvious she was a well-oiled machine and Harry was incapable, in comparison. “Guess we’ll deal with it tomorrow?” Harry waved without looking up.

“Good luck,” he murmured to her. “Bye-bye Cece,” his voice changed octaves as he spoke to his daughter. “I love you more than Daddy.”

Niall was really pushing it lately. As soon as he was gone, she returned to the papers humming as Cece reached for them. “Oh, thank you, cutie pie,” she smiled grabbing them from her reach. “You didn’t need to come in,” she said. “I was going to go shopping but I was passing by and thought I—”

“I appreciate it,” his tone was clipped. She frowned feeling like once more she had done something wrong. As if he was sensing her nervousness, he sighed. “It’s your day off,” he reminded her. “I would never have expected you t’do this,” he sighed.

“Well, you’ve had a long week and—”

“You keep saying that, love. But so did you. Maybe even longer than me," he thought of her exhaustion clear as day on her face back at the hospital. He was certain she had a longer week.

She bit the inside of her cheek. Her face flushed a bit making Harry wonder what he did to embarrass her. “But you had a work trip and your flight issue, plus the hospital, and phone problems--"

“So what? You dealt with all that and more," she didn't answer. "What?" He tilted his head. “What is it?”

She sighed and looked away from him, nosing at the top of Cece’s hair. “You called me a superhero,” she said.

“Of course—”

“But I’m not, Harry. I’m not.”

Harry grabbed the papers from her hands and then settled them on the desk. Cece was making noises and blowing bubbles with her spit, so she walked over to her bag and grabbed bib while barely looking. Harry took it from her hand and placed it around her little neck to catch her drooling. But Harry just continued to look at the woman holding his daughter with awe. “You very much are,” he assured her.

“Harry, I...” she took a deep breath and dragged her hand down her face. “You pay me an insane amount of money for me to be a glorified housewife. I take your baby to the library and the park and sometimes a doctor's appointment. I give her a bath and make sure she naps," she explained.

"Arguably some of the most important jobs in the world."

She sighed. "Do you know how many people tell me my job isn't real? That I get paid to do nothing but play with a baby?"

Harry held his tongue before he said something crazy like "tell me who and I'll kill them."

"You do so much more than that," he reminded her.

"I'm glad you see it that way. But not everyone else does."

"What about all this?" He gestured to the papers. "S'not part of your job. Cooking and cleaning for me? S'not your job. I should jus' hire someone else t'do it so you won't--"

"Don't do that, please. I don't mind, I like--"

"Exactly," Harry stared at her hoping she saw how serious he was, how serious he was taking this. "You take care of families," he said. "But the way y'love them is beyond what anyone would expect."

How could she feel so inadequate? She did so much. But even if he placated her and that was the “only” thing she did, so what? She was damn good at it. She kept his baby safe and healthy without batting an eyelash. He knew she was working on Cece rolling over and grabbing her feet. He knew she read to her and sang to her. She counted out cooking steps and stairs and everything she did with Cece. She was ensuring Cece hit milestones and never once complained about anything. Not the lack of sleep, not the lack of time off.

She was brilliant. Harry was pretty sure she knew more about Cece than he did. He couldn’t imagine the stress she was under making sure Cece was always okay. For fuck’s sake, she slept on the floor to keep a close eye on her. Even Harry didn’t think to do that.

Harry stared at her. He cleared his throat. “Should anyone have a question of your qualifications, feel free t’give them m’number because I would be happy t’give them m’own recommendation,” he pulled Cece from her grip and placed her back in the car seat. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? What recommendation?” Confusion painted her face.

“The recommendation where I suggest they pull their head out of their ass. They’re fucking stupid for believing y’don’t work three or four times as hard as they do. Y’work way harder than I do and way harder than Niall. Probably even put together. You are on all the time. Middle of the night? You’re there. Breakfast? You have it covered. Y’have the most important job at this company--you realize that, right? I don’t trust anyone with m’daughter more than you,” he said. “Do y’know how long it would have taken me t’give her the medicine?” He asked rhetorically. “I would’ve called m'mum.” She felt uncomfortable—Harry was acting like she was making space rockets. “If y’think m’paying y’too much you’re dead wrong. M’not paying y’enough. You are doing more for me than I could have ever thought possible,” he picked up the car seat. “Now, if that’s all, I believe your first quarter review is done,” he grabbed Cece’s bag. “Let’s go. I’ll have the driver get your car back home.”

“Go...? Go where?” She asked.

“Shopping, y’said y’were on your way when y’stopped,” he headed out of his office and left her paused, contemplating everything Harry said and feeling warm all over. Her last family adored her, it was obvious. They didn’t expect her to cook and clean, but it just happened. So, she continued that in Harry’s house. It hadn’t occurred to her that Harry didn’t want her to do it.

“Hey, love?” He asked turning back into the room while she gathered her stuff.

“Yes?”

"Thank you," his expression softened around his lips and eyes. "It was really nice of you t'do this for me," he looked at the papers that seemed a little less daunting to deal with tomorrow.

"Oh... you're welcome. I kinda like organizing stuff," she looked a little shy admitting that and followed after him quietly. Settling her mind with thoughts of how important she was to Harry.

Her old family cared for her. But there was no declaration like that. She felt so special to be around Cece and Harry.

They got on the elevator to head to the parking garage. The little baby seat sat between their feet as Harry pressed the button that closed the door. "And..." he turned to her and smiled a little brighter. It touched his eyes and made her think Harry might be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Carefree, beautiful, and absolutely kind. "Your hair looks really pretty like that, too."

--

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[lazycats-stuff]

What about Batfam x male reader where the reader was actually the first child Bruce adopted and he was the practice child. He hated growing io because Bruce had really no idea what to do and then the other kids came along and now Bruce kinda understood what to do. He hates family time because he never felt like family, he was just some doll the others could practice on so later they wouldn't make mistakes. And i imagine at some point they snap. I feel like what if Damian brought over Jon for dinner and Jon was like "oh I thought Dick's the oldest, you never told me about (reader)" and reader just slams down their fist and goes to their room. At this point the rest of the family try to comfort them but the reader only screams about how they never were a son or bother, they were only a practice doll for them to use and then throw away

This has angst written all over it... Ah. Angst train it seems... Also, I think I changed the end a bit, but that's fine...

Summary: (Y/N) was nothing but a test child for Bruce. He finally lets them have it

Warnings: angst, resentment, author sucks at angst, but hey, I tried, yelling, mentions of anxiety, the fam is trying, (Y/N) is mad beyond belief, implications of child neglect... If you can call it child neglect.

(Y/N) (L/N) was the oldest member of the Wayne family and the first child that Bruce had adopted. (Y/N) didn't have a good life at all before he met Bruce. (Y/N) could also argue that Bruce didn't treat him well as well, since being emotionally unavailable is not a good trait to have when you have children.

As the years went by, he hated growing up in the manor and with Bruce. He had food, a roof over his head and some sort of education. But that wasn't enough. The feeling of resentment that (Y/N) had has only grown as the years went by.

The feeling of being a test to Bruce, to see what he need to improve made his blood boil. He was a test pancake for Bruce and some sort of feedback to Bruce. It made (Y/N) mad beyond. Bruce could have gotten his shit straight when he started to have him as his legal child.

(Y/N) wished that he could forget everything about Bruce. About the family too. Even before Dick came, resentment building up in him nearly exploded. Looking back, he should have exploded on Bruce and Dick... Maybe even punch them. Maybe he should have done it.

When Dick came, (Y/N) saw signs that Bruce was improving, but he didn't show that to (Y/N). Years went by and Damian came. To say that Damian pretended that (Y/N) didn't exist is an understatement. (Y/N) tried to get closer to Damian, but Damian always pushed him away. (Y/N) took the signs and gave up, sadness and anger boiling inside of him. But he did observe Damian and Dick. In matter of a few days, they were close.

Dick did it without even trying.

So, (Y/N) has decided to alienate himself from the family, at least until he gets enough money to leave. Thankfully, the resentment towards Bruce and the rest of the family made him even put everything he had in school, even though no one cared about it. He had straight As and he was on his way to go to college that was far away from here. He knows that he can do it.

Even as Tim and Jason came, (Y/N) tried to be close to them, but none of them cared. None. (Y/N)'s solace became his own room and would avoid the family at all costs until it was time to eat where he had to step out. That only solidified the fact that he was going to leave as soon as possible.

Either way, he just had to alienate himself and move out. Then, everyone in the house would be happy.

However, everything would turn on its head when Damian would bring his boyfriend Jon over to meet the family and by default (Y/N). If only (Y/N) knew what would happen.

Dinner rolled around and came down to eat. He didn't expect to see Jon, but was nice to introduce himself to Jon, trying to be nice and just get this stupid dinner over with. He put some food on his plate and just ate in silence while everyone else talked.

He listened to bits and pieces and just stayed silent. He finished his plate quickly and pushed it away and sipped at his water, just being polite and getting ready to leave back at his room.

" Damian, you didn't tell me anything about (Y/N)... I thought that Dick was oldest of the brothers. " Jon said and (Y/N) froze.

Damian didn't tell Jon about him...

(Y/N)'s anger boiled over and he slammed his fist into the table before standing up quickly, knocking the chair over. Everyone got startled at the actions and watched in silence as (Y/N) left the dining room.

After a few seconds they all jumped into action, trying to stop (Y/N) to comfort him. (Y/N) slammed the door of his room shut, locking to make sure no one could enter, before he broke down on his bed. He hugged his pillow and sobbed into it.

It shouldn't hurt like this. He should have been stronger than this. Not cry over them.

" (Y/N), please open the door. " Bruce said through the door.

" Please, we just want to talk. " Dick added and (Y/N) snapped at that, anger boiling over once again.

" Talk?! TALK?! Stop acting like you care! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs.

" We do care. " Jason started.

" You don't give a single flying damn about me! I was never a son or a brother to anyone! I was only a test toy to Bruce so he could see what he could fucking improve! I was never a fucking brother either! Damian fucking proved it! " (Y/N) yelled at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his face.

Everyone stayed silent and (Y/N) sobbed his heart out. Damian swallowed hardly, realizing what he did and how that hurt (Y/N) deeply. Maybe he shouldn't have...

Everyone glanced at each other. They stayed silent as they listened to (Y/N)'s sobs. Just how much pain did they brought up onto him?

" (Y/N), look- " Bruce started and (Y/N) screamed again.

" Don't you dare care right now! I'm moving out in a few days anyway and I don't need your pity or apology! " (Y/N) yelled, trying to wipe the never ending stream of tears.

" Moving out?! " Bruce yelled, eyes wide in shock. He know he has no right to tell (Y/N) what to do, but something flared up in Bruce. " No, you're not moving out! You are going to stay put because we have to solve this problem! "

" Are you shitting me Bruce?! Work things out?! "

" I'm not shitting you! I have to make things right with you! You are my son too! " Bruce yelled through the door.

" I don't give a single damn about any of you! "

Bruce took a deep breath, trying not to explode. He knows he has no right to be angry, but (Y/N) was still his son. " (Y/N), I am your dad and we will solve this problem. "

" We won't solves shit Bruce! "

" (Y/N), please, " Tim started, but (Y/N) cut him off. " Shut up Tim! "

Tim bit the inside of his cheek and stepped back.

" (Y/N), " Jason started, " You need to calm down, you'll give yourself a heart attack. "

(Y/N) wanted to scream even more, but he felt like he was going to die from this situation.

" Shut up, all of you! "

Now Dick started. " (Y/N), we may have been bad brothers- "

" May have?! You were- No, you are the worst brothers! " (Y/N) yelled and clenched his fists as he started facing around the room.

Dick sighed and stepped back. At the moment, everyone knew that (Y/N) talking to them without yelling at them and more importantly, he needed to calm down first.

But with how much anger and resentment there is, it is going to take a while.

" Lets leave (Y/N) alone for a while. He needs to be alone for now. " Bruce said and gently moved everyone away from (Y/N)'s doors, who was inside, trying to breathe more normally. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin in the next few moments. He calmed down after a while, but he was still anxious beyond belief.

Unfortunately, the threat of moving out is just a threat and not a promise. (Y/N) sighed as he sat down on his bed. It was a stupid move to say that while he didn't have everything secure yet. Stupid.

(Y/N) went to the bathroom and washed his face and drank some water, to soothe his soon to be sore throat. It won't be nice to talk in a few hours.

Either way, it's better than leaving this room in order to face his siblings and dad. No, they are just roommates here, until (Y/N) can move out and just finally cut them out of his life.

[luveline]

imagine being giddy while out with the BAU team getting tipsy and talking about your sex life. but the reader is secretly dating hotch, so she stays quite. until one of the girls starts hounding reader about how she said her current partner is the best sex she’s ever had. and hotch just tries to not be a cheeky little shit.

this is not quite what u meant but I hope it's OK! ♥︎ fem!reader

There's a girl across the way. Tall, gorgeous, making eyes at Derek Morgan like her life depends on it. 

"Morgan, come on," Emily says, "I thought you had game. This is just sad." 

Morgan nods agreeably, an action dripping in sarcasm, and downs the rest of his drink. "I got better than game," he says, patting Emily on the arm as he stands. 

"What's better than game?" she asks incredulously, twisting in her seat to follow Morgan's path with her eyes before turning back to you and the others, expression reflecting her disbelief. 

"I should've let him buy me that appletini he promised me," you say, dipping your head toward Hotch on your left, and Rossi on his. "I don't think he's coming back." 

"I'll get it," Hotch says. 

"Always on the boss to pick up the slack," Rossi drawls with a smirk.

Hotch nearly laughs. "Another round. The same for everyone?" 

"I wouldn't mind an appletini, boss," JJ jokes. 

"You know, he'll actually get you one now," Emily says, all of you turned to watch him making his way to the bar. 

Morgan and his gorgeous girl are hitting it off quite clearly halfway down the bar. JJ, who's a little tipsy already, beams at them and wiggles her shoulders. 

"I think somebody's getting lucky," she says. 

"I hate to say it, but I'm jealous of Morgan right now. Don't," Emily says, sliding down into her seat, "tell him I said that." 

"I thought you were steady with that guy," you say sympathetically, "the chiropractor." 

Emily moans out in sadness. "I was. Turns out guys don't like when you cancel four dates in a row. He... was really good at his job." 

Emily might be more intoxicated than you'd thought. You laugh too loudly and think maybe you are, too. 

Hotch approaches from the left with a tray of drinks in hand and you slide your chair out of his way, feeling his "Thank you," warm the back of your neck. 

"Laugh at my pain," Emily says at your giggling.

You shuffle forward to hear her better over the small hubbub of Hotch, Rossi and Reid sorting drinks into place. Penelope appears again from her excursion to the bathroom and slides right into Morgan's empty seat. 

"What about you and mystery man?" Emily asks.

You're less subtle than you should be, your eyes straying to the shadow of Hotch in your peripherals. "What about him?" 

"Is that still going well?"

"It's going more than well," JJ says knowingly, retrieving her appletini with a sweet thanks. "What did you tell me on the way back from Illinois?" 

"I told you that in confidence," you rush to say, to plead, eyes widening. "Tired confidence." 

"What did she say?" Emily asks, her smile turning evil. 

JJ laya back in her seat, almost tipping her drink, and covers her eyebrows with her index finger. Everyone knows immediately that she's imitating you, worse when she puts on a quiet awe. "I didn't know it could be like that. I mean, I didn't realise a man would care so much about making sure I feel good." She fans her face. "And he really cares, JJ." 

"Please don't," you say, covering your face with both hands. You're not truly upset, but it's embarrassing nonetheless. 

"It's sweet!" JJ cries. 

"What? You're having heart to hearts without me?" Penelope asks. 

"It wasn't a heart to heart, Pen, I was just tired, and–" 

"So you didn't mean it?" 

The entire table waits for your answer. You feel Hotch's silence louder than everybody else's, and you're so flustered you don't know what to do. You hadn't counted on letting him in on how happy you are in the bedroom, not this soon. 

"I meant it," you breathe, "but it's not something I wanted to share with everybody." 

"No? You won't want me to tell them about how big his hands are, then," JJ says. 

"JJ," Hotch says, and you can hear his awful smile, "let's not embarrass her too much."

Emily jumps to your defence, and soon the table has turned on JJ completely, jokes about one specific New Orleans accent taking centre stage. 

Hotch slides your appletini closer while they're distracted. "He cares, honey. More than you know." 

You take a shuddering breath. "I know," you say, voice small. 

"You do? So you won't need reminding?" 

"How about you, sir? Things still going well with that younger girl?" Penelope asks, all gossip. 

A big hand lands on your thigh. You still, the heat of his skin seeping down into yours as he inches inward. 

"I'd say things were going well," Hotch says. He punctuates with a secret squeeze. "She might say differently." 

[blingblong55]

Happiness -Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo Credits: @ave661

---- F!Reader, angst, divorce, ex-husband!Simon, dad!Simon ----

A/N: Blaming the talented writers on here that wrote on ex-husband!Simon a while back for this

Ten years, eight of them lived as his wife and four of them as the mother to his child. Now, you and he sit on the stools of the kitchen island, tears in both your eyes as you two come to terms that your marriage is over. No one cheated, no one was toxic but the one thing that they couldn't see coming was that sometimes, love runs out. He and you stopped doing all the cute stuff together, it became stale and dead. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, holding your hand as you look down crying. "I guess it happens," you whisper back. But it shouldn't have. Not to you and not to him. 

You were supposed to grow old together, watch your child grow old, measure his height by the door frame, and watch Simon give his advice for when your son gets his first girlfriend. It was a plan, to sit by the fireplace when you'd both enter your fifties, reminisce on the past and laugh at the cringe things you both did when young. "I'll make sure the divorce goes smooth, I'll...find a place and visit every day. I swear to be the best at...co-parenting," he says with care. "I know, Simon," you grip his hand. 

It's a bittersweet moment, nearly five years ago, you sat him down in this exact place and held his hand with teary eyes as you told him you were pregnant. "Oh...oh my love, I'm going to be a dad!" The kiss he gave you knowing romance films would never compare to that kiss. Now, as you sit in silence, you can't help but cry a different kind of tears. Ten years of your life spent with him spent loving and getting to know him. They say, that to love is to know someone and you know and love him very well so, that is how you find yourself hugging him. Simon's hold on you is so hard yet filled with sadness and care. 

"I love you!" you laugh as you run around the sofa. Simon chasing you and laughing. He had started it, the 'I love you more' competition and when you whispered, 'I love you best' he began to tickle you. "If you say I win, I'll stop tickling you," he laughs. "Never!" your laughter loud as you try and push him off. "Very well then, lovely," he chuckles. After one push, that is where you find yourself running around the home you built with him. 

As you walk past the now cold sofa, you picture that night. Picture the mornings, days, afternoons and midnights where he and you kissed, cuddled, shared secrets, tears and laughs. What a sour taste did it bring to you. "I'll always love you," you whisper to the memory. Simon is out the door and on the road, finding someplace to stay for the night. In moments like these, he would seek for you but now, he must learn to be strong without you, something rather hard. 

[6 Months later]

A knock on your door as Simon comes to pick up your son. "It's opened!" you call out from the kitchen. His little boy, running to the door and smiling. "Daddy!" the young boy smiles and reaches for him, the image in front of you, melting your heart as you watch father and son share a moment. Your heart aches. Why didn't you fight? Cry and beg for him to think it through? No, but you want him to be happy and if he was unhappy in your marriage then you can't for him to stay or love you. 

It's been nine days since the divorce was finalised, you nor he told any of your friends. Kept it all to yourselves and went through grief alone. You drink wine alone in the afternoons now, he watches shit comedy specials alone. And when either of you turns to the side he or you occupied, the feeling comes back. No more shit-talking about the comedian, no more asking for another glass of wine. What if he is someone you'll never move on from? What if you're someone he never mentions? 

What if you two were blind and it wasn't that love ran out?

Fuck...why must this hurt.

"R/N, y'alright?" his voice interrupts you. 

No, I'm not and I miss you like never before. I miss your kisses, your whispers and your dirty jokes. I miss your mornings, I miss our mornings. Love me, please...please love me. 

"Yeah, sorry, I was just trying to remember my schedule today," your voice soft. He nods, "Yeah, well, me and the lad will be out. Call you if needed and call me if you need me." He says before leaving through the door. "Mm-hmm," you play bravely and watch him leave. As you sit on the sofa, you cry. You can't let him leave, not when you have poems, love letters and sweet nothings to tell him. Not when you still want to share your life with him. You walk to the door and go for the handle but hesitate. 

What if he moved on? What if he loves another?

[Simon's POV]

I step out, buckle my kid in and as I hear him laugh, I remember his second favourite toy is still in her home. Will she let me back in? Can she?... Now I'm wondering if she ever cared. Why did I fight for her? Why must I let her leave so easily? What if my love finds some man who tries to play house with my son and my girl? No, fuck that it won't happen. As I reach for her front door, I stop. My R/N, why must you feel so far and yet feel so close to me? 

Don't be stupid, she probably moved on. It's been six months, surely she is fine. But if she isn't? Then, I can still be the shoulder she leans on, I can be the chest she cries in, "Daddy, let's go!" Fuck, that's right. 

On the drive to the park, my mind wanders to her. Her smile, the way she was insecure of the stretch marks but she would fluster when I kissed them. Ten years ago, I met her in this park, kissed her here, walked with her here when she was pregnant and watched our son take his first steps here. Now, I walk with my son but not with her by my side. A woman approaches, me, we talk and soon after I leave. R/N must be home or out. I wonder if she still sings her makeup steps when getting ready. 

Does she still remember how I kissed her? How did my body feel against hers? I wonder if she misses me like how I miss her. Does she want to kiss me? Get back together? I hope no other guy wins her heart like I did. I hope no guy knows she loves to be kissed when her favourite song comes up and how she loves it when dirty jokes are told to her in whispers. I hope no guy watches her dance in a dress and adores her, those curves she got when she became a mother, the smile and the laugh when she gets nervous. 

I wonder if she knows I know her better than anyone. That my love beats any movie on the screen. I read all her favourite books so she'd think I was cool or that I read them to do the things the characters did and watch her fall for me more. Why didn't I tell her that day that I wasn't falling out of love but rather I was scared she would leave me? Fuck..

"Simon?" her delicate voice. If the heavens could speak, she would be the voice of them. "Sorry, I..." tell her you fool! Tell her you love her, that you miss her lips, her wit, her clumsiness and how she gives you a puppy stare when she can't reach the top shelf. "Yeah...uh, I forgot his...uh...his other toy and he has been asking about it." FUCKING COWARD!

[Your POV]

It was earlier than expected but he brought your son home earlier than usual. "I'll go get it for you," you say and walk upstairs. Meanwhile, he looks at the photos at the entrance. What were once photos of you three are now you and your son. "Here it is," you say as you hand him the toy. "Thanks, love," he mumbles as he leaves once more. Before you can close the door, "Simon?" your voice with hope. "Yes?" he turns around, a faint smile on him. Oh those eyes, his beautiful eyes. "...drive safe..." you want to mentally slap yourself. "Yes, love," he nods and walks back to his car. 

To build a home, to walk away and to miss it. Simon Joseph Riley and R/N...formally R/N Riley, now miss home. A home that was found in each other's arms. 

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[g1rld1ary]

overheard that she was nineteen - james potter x reader

wc: 1058

cw: nothing, one swear, reader is sad on their birthday, implied fem!reader but i don't think any pronouns

chat how many aura points do i lose for crying in the literal first 20 minutes of my nineteenth birthday :/ don't think about this fic too hard or you'll see it's more of a diary entry than work of fiction oopsie :')

You weren't feeling very special. To be quite honest, your day had been totally shit. It was your birthday, your nineteenth birthday and everyone had forgotten. Well, that wasn't true exactly, but nobody cared. Your parents had barely said 'happy birthday' when you called them, and only one of your friends had texted you. A sweet message, but still kind of depressing.

You knew it shouldn't have been a big deal, no one cared about nineteen, right? Eighteen was the big birthday and you'd had a good enough day last year, so you weren't really sure why this year had brought you down so much.

Maybe it was just because your love of birthdays was never reciprocated. A person's birthday could be the most exciting day of the year, and you were of the opinion that it should be, if possible. You were the one who showed up with a hand-baked cake on your friend's doorstep, without fail. It was something you enjoyed doing undoubtedly, you spent ages picking out which colour the icing should be and what edible decorations should go on top.

On top of that, you considered your defining talent to be writing cards. It was something you took pride in, penning almost-essays that encapsulated the breadth and depth of your love for your nearest and dearest. Proclamations of never-ending adoration, gratitude for years of friendship, the insides of your heart and soul sitting amongst fresh ink and scribbled hearts. You signed your name with a heart and a flower every time. Plus, you made particular efforts to come up with a creative pun or doodle for the front, just to keep things interesting.

So birthdays were things you held in high regard, and having yours seemingly mean nothing to anyone else was a bit of a mood killer if you were being totally honest. Still, what could you do? You picked yourself up, ate an uninspiring breakfast and went to uni.

You felt more anonymous than usual in class. With the semester having started only a week prior, you were in a sea of new people, none of them having any way of knowing it was your birthday, and you weren't quite at the point where you were begging for well-wishes from people you didn't particularly care about. And so you took notes, put your hand up for the participation grade and dreamed of your own cake and candles.

By the end of the day you were exhausted. The classes were long anyway, but carrying around your own personal grey cloud was taking a toll on your body and mind. It was at the car park when your phone dinged; James.

are you coming over tonight?

please

You smiled a little despite your sour mood. Even if James didn't seem like he was fully aware of your outlook on birthdays, being with him always made you feel better.

It'd already been dark for an hour or so by the time you reached the flat he shared with the boys, the winter weather making the sun disappear at four o'clock. You knocked on his door softly, unable to pluck up the strength to even make your presence easily known. James must've been waiting for you though, since you heard the heavy pad of his feet almost instantaneously.

The sight of him nearly took your breath away, though nothing was out of the ordinary. He was still the same old James, his glasses slightly askew on his nose, but he was looking at you with such softness that you felt the tears spike behind your eyes. You tried to push them down.

"I thought we'd have a bit of an early dinner. I know you won't have eaten at uni." He took your bag, setting it by the entry table softly. You managed to nod, hopefully not giving away all your awful feelings. You tried not to be cut up that he hadn't wished you a happy birthday yet.

All of your melancholy had been for nothing, you realised, when James led you to the dining table. He'd gone the full mile, with a cheesy red tablecloth and single candle as the centrepiece.

"Happy birthday, my love," He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help it, the tears rolling down your cheeks before you even realised. Once they started you had no chance, sobs wracking through your body as James stood beside you, bewildered.

"Is this not okay? Do you not like it?" He fretted as you cried, and you rushed to reassure him.

"I love it, Jamie, promise. It's just," You managed a half laugh through your bout of tears, "I thought no one cared. I can't believe you've done this for me." James' brow furrowed deeper than you'd ever seen it before as he pulled you into a tight hug.

"I would do anything for you, love. I mean it."

Once your tears had subsided you had a lovely dinner, James making you double over with laughter as all thoughts of your previous shit day dissolved under the weight of the homemade pasta sitting in your stomach.

Just before the night died down, James presented you with a small box, wrapped in the most beautiful silky ribbon. You glanced up at him curiously, untying it slowly. Inside was the most beautiful bracelet you'd ever seen. Connected with a heart-shaped clasp and decorated with a single charm, a love letter. You were embarrassed by the tears working their way back up to your lash line, but James looked delighted by the reaction, he lived to make you happy.

"Thank you," You whispered, "I love you."

James didn't have to say it back for you to know, but he did anyway because it made him happy.

Maybe your birthday wasn't the flashy event you might've wanted, however deep down, but you were strangely okay with it. Despite the fact that no one showed up to your door with a hand-baked cake or essay-length card, you had James, and James would've pulled the stars down from the sky if he thought it would boost your mood. That was enough.

[elliewill]

A FOOL'S GAME

summary - an angsty drabble of fem reader leaving an emotionally troubled ellie warnings - angsty arguing, strong language, mentions of infidelity, sad feelings word count - 1.4k credits: divider credit, gif credit a/n: written with "a pearl" by mitski in mind. def listen on replay while reading!

"If you told me that this would be the way we'd end up..." you started. But your breath caught itself on the painful lump in your throat. You began to laugh in disbelief, mostly to shake off the urge to cry. "I would have never believed you."

She couldn't help but avert her gaze. So much so, that you secretly wondered if she felt she'd turn to stone if she met your eyes. Maybe in some way, she would. She was embarrassed. Cheeks pink, ears red, jaw clenched with tension. She leaned against her desk, arms crossed, frozen almost. Eyes glued to the floor.

"And here we are. You don't want to touch me... You can't even fucking look at me."

Despite your words, Ellie remained unmoved. You began to wonder if her silence meant that she actually felt guilty, or whether it was just indignation. You knew she had a bad habit of never admitting when she was wrong.

"I never meant to hurt you," Ellie broke the silence, embarrassment in her voice, with her eyes now stuck on her busted sneakers. "I wasn't thinking and I wish I-"

"You don't get to say that," you cut her off, nearly scolding her. Her green eyes finally flew up to meet yours, and your heart sank to your stomach. "You don't get to tell me you didn't mean to hurt me and go do what you did." "They were stupid, shitty mistakes, and I know that, and I'm sorry." Ellie rambled with pleading eyes, almost scrambling to find all the right words to make this go away. She pushed herself off the desk she was leaning on and walked toward you, a gentle hand out to hold your arm. "I don't want... I can't lose you."

A wave of dread washed over you. All you've wanted is for her to love you the way you've loved her. To want you the way you've wanted her. She used to tell you how terrified she was of losing you. But with Ellie looking at you the way she was, you couldn't help but wonder if she was only saying this now just to save her ass. You reluctantly swallowed the thought and let her have her word.

"There's a lot I don't talk about anymore and I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry things have been getting worse, and it's not that I don't want you, I just..."

"And you just what?" you scoffed, belittling Ellie's explanation. The disdain in your voice made Ellie furrow her eyebrows, hurt flashing on her features for a fleeting moment. You were almost sorry for saying anything. "All those nights staying up and laughing. You were able to sleep through the night and eat a full meal again. We used to talk about everything and nothing... what the fuck happened to us?"

Silence.

Ellie looked away and out the window at the gentle flurries of snow. She sighed deeply, chewing the inside of cheek with her eyebrows furrowed. She felt it. You were getting tired of her. All the shit she's put you through, and you had finally reached your breaking point. She knew you deserved better, but Ellie was a selfish girl in love. She would never able to tell you to leave - and mean it.

"I don't even feel real anymore."

You had always been almost convinced that if you loved her enough, the pink would return to her cheeks. That maybe, the butterflies she'd feel when her name fell from your lips would quiet the maggots eating her up inside. But even in between stolen kisses and nights spent together, she’d never spare the breath to tell you about the trouble you always knew was brewing beneath the surface. She assumed if she remained in blissful ignorance of her own feelings, it would eventually go away. No tears to be had and regretted.

But she made her own mistakes anyway. You almost didn't feel bad for her anymore.

"So you go out and do this? Instead of talking to me?" you shot back, wishing her the same sadness that sat in your chest and pooled in your eyes. You moved away from the gently placed hand on your arm, spurning any of her affection toward you. "Did it feel real when you fucked her? Was it that good? Just had to keep going back for more? Maybe I'll go fuck someone else, too. How 'bout an ex to make it even?"

Seeing your eyes become glossy and talk about sleeping with an ex stirred self-disgust in Ellie's gut. She felt backed into a corner, forced to see her own reflection. God, she felt pathetic for having put you through it all. But like clockwork, the accountability only went so far before she scornfully projected. Her eyes darkened, and she took a step back to sneer at you.

"You know what? Maybe you should. Cause this shit right here?" she fired back, gesturing to the both of you. "Maybe this was the biggest mistake I've ever fucking made."

The last words that left her mouth struck you breathless. That nasty lump rising higher in your throat stoked the nausea you felt at her words. You could tell that your silence made Ellie itch. The inner corners of your eyebrows were raised and a dejected smile spread across your lips.

"THIS? This was your biggest mistake?" you laughed through your tears incredulously. "I never know what's going on in your head, El. You'd tell me you love me and you don't want to lose me. Kiss me one day and refuse to touch me the next. Find you fucking someone else, and that this hadn't been the first time...and here I am, making more fuckin' excuses for you."

"Then stop making them!" Ellie threw her hands up and then let them down, slapping her thighs in exasperation."Jesus Christ, I said I was sorry! What the fuck else do you want me to say? I fucked up, I know!"

"You don't get it," you whispered bitterly while you shook your head gently, the tears running hot across your cheeks. "I fucking loved you, Ellie. I would've done anything for you... Who was there when Tommy couldn't even bring himself to look at you? When Dina promised you'd never see JJ again? The nights you couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat?"

"I didn't need your fucking help!" Ellie raised her voice over yours, the guilt eating away at her more quickly. "I never asked you to be there, I would've always been fine on my own. I never fucking needed you."

"...Got it." You nodded sarcastically, wiping the tears from your eyes and cheeks, snatching your backpack off of Ellie's couch. "All the hurt I put myself through to make sure you were okay? I guess that's my fault, huh?"

Ellie's heart quickened watching you grab your belongings to leave. But she stood there frozen and powerless, wanting to make it better but also wanting it all to be over. How did she manage to fuck this up so badly? She knew in the next minute or so, she'd have to watch you walk out of that door and never come back.

"You're so terrified of losing me, right?" You said whilst rummaging through a pocket of your backpack and pulling out a small black journal. It was a journal she'd given you full of just little sketches and doodles - some of you, some of you both together, some of silly things.

"Y/N. Don't. Please, let me just-"

You chucked the book at Ellie, who couldn't meet your eyes again but drew closer to you in an attempt to keep you from leaving. The book struck the side of her chest but like a brick wall, she remained there, shamefully gnawing the inside of her mouth, a strand of her auburn hair falling into her face. If you had stared at her long enough, you'd notice the tears she'd been trying to blink away.

"Fuck you, Ellie. You did this shit to yourself."

Her front door slammed behind you as you stormed out and stepped off her porch. The feeling of the frozen wind stinging your cheeks and rustling your hair was almost pleasant. Well, what now?

You said what you had to say. But the pit in your stomach only grew heavier, and you felt sick. Somehow you knew.

You knew that no matter how many times you leave, how many times she hurt you, you would always love her, like a fucking fool.

Maybe it was never truly better to have loved and lost. Maybe you would've been better off if you had never loved at all.

[laluv-469]

"The Other Woman"

synopsis: its a mean one. gojo is cheating on his girlfriend with you and the guilt of sadness of it all is starting to hit you. practically a flashback and a psychological breakthrough contemplating why you tolerate his shit. but whether you continue to is an entirely more difficult question.

content: smut, jjk x reader, cheating gojo satoru x reader, vaginal sex, rough, hair pulling, unprotected, gojo on top, angry sex, dom, angst, asshole gojo, etc idk i dont write smut often lmao

for clarification; gojo would NEVER cheat, at least that's what I think. uh I just had this really neat, angsty idea linked to this song, and I know how to write gojo better than any other character. granted, toji or most definitely sukuna would fit better, but again, don't know how to write those characters as well. i also think this is a very poor interpretation of gojo and his personality, but it cruely exposes his flaws related to being a little boasty f-boy. hope it doesn't disappoint too much, i am not an experienced writer <3

deepest apologies for any typos and grammatical errors. literally editing this at 1 am ♡

word count: 1,526

As much as you hated thinking about it, you were undeniably the other woman. You were the woman Gojo would sneak out of the room to text once his girlfriend fell asleep. You were the woman he would call when he got lonely and sad. You were the woman he would take out on secret dates across town. And, of course, you were the woman Gojo would ruthlessly fuck at the local motel. 

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

“Fuckkk” Gojo would greedily groan as he slid his thick member in and out of your squelching hole. “You're nothing like her…” He chuckled to himself in awe as his grip on your hips tightened. 

“So- fuckin’ tight~!” He bared through gritted teeth.

You shifted your weight slightly, burying your head down into the sheets with furrowed brows. Your long locks of hair fell loosely over your shoulders, draping down over your forehead. You only hum lazily in response, a bored expression on your face as he pounded into your little pussy. 

God, he felt painfully good, but you hated when he compared you to her. You hated the way it made you think too much. And for awfully too long. Your eyes drifted off into long, angry thought. Gojo noticed this, and he also hated when you weren't receptive to him.

He had you bent over on your stomach,  breasts smushed against the sheets as his hips rolled against your ass. The man lowered himself to your head, his warm breath tickling your neck. In a swift motion, he moved his hands toward your stomach and pressed firmly, pushing himself deeper inside you. His thrusts soon became rough and intentional… like he was testing your limits. 

He managed to get a whimper out of you, your face contorting slightly with his change in pace. “Nngh~”

You tried to remain nonchalant though, turning your face away from him, not letting him see your arousal. 

With the hand that wasn't clenching your stomach, he pulled a large chunk of your hair to the left, forcing you to meet his piercing eyes. They were narrow and.. almost dark with deep passion.. anger.. whatever it was your actions made him feel. 

“Not feelin’ it hon?” He questioned with only slight irritation in his voice. 

"Am I doing a crap job, hm?” He asks in a low voice, humor and frustration swirling into one. 

Both of your heads were bobbing up and down with the intensity of his thrusts, heavy pants accompanying that. Still, he managed to stare into your soul as awaited your response. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping and the reserved whimpers you let out through tight lips. 

You avoided his eyes, closing them while trying to endure the pain. Each thrust sent him further inside you, his hips barely moving away from yours. It's like he was nearly locked in place with you, his hips bucking back and forth, keeping a small distance between your bodies. His grip on your body was tight, holding onto your hair and waist like his life fucking depended on it.

He scoffed at your silence, yanking at your hair again, harder this time, causing your head to whip back. You finally broke, your mouth was open and now loud. He seemed to have reached your core, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot. Each time, you swore you saw stars. It's like he was becoming one with you, his entire size stuffing you grossly. 

“Ah, ah ah!! S-Satoru-nn!!” You pleaded, your voice loud and squeaky, yet barely coherent.

“Don't- fucking ignore me…” He spoke in a low growl, his voice breaking in a similar manner to yours. 

He placed his temple against yours, your foreheads now pressed against each other as his movements grew more sloppy and erratic. His grip on your hair was still tight, practically using it for support as his body moved restlessly against you. Your scalp wss being stressed, strands sure to fall out after it's next brush.

“What's wrong, hm? Before.. I-” He stopped, struggling to speak and fuck you at the same time, “Before I pull out.. tell.. me” He panted heavily in an ugly rhythm with your moans, a lewd melody of slaps and grunts filling the air. 

He was close, you felt him throb inside you, and you were too. Your walls began to enclose, almost trapping him inside your hole. “Tight fuckin’ cunt…” He grunted lowly, chuckling to himself once again at the marvel that was your pretty little pussy. 

You shut your eyes tight as your orgasm neared, mouth gaped open, trying to find the right words. What could you possibly utter to him? You hated that he was in this secret “relationship” with you.. yet you let it fly. Why, though? Speak up, tell him! And so you did.

In broken words and whimpers, “Break.. up with her..” You regretted the words as soon as they escaped your lips, biting your entire lower lip in immediate guilt.

Gojo's hips stuttered a bit, your words clearly catching him by surprise. But you were too lost in the rhythm to stop. You felt a rising sensation in your stomach, a hungry desire to completely let loose everywhere. It was strong, so very strong, and you just needed this orgasm so badly. Your pussy was puffy and throbbing, his large member surely leaving you sore. He fucked and fucked and fucked, that lovely spot being tapped and played with till it went off. Shortly after, you came all over his cock, juices spilling out and dripping onto the bed. He fucked your cunt still, helping you ride out your orgasm as he neared his. Your eyes rolled back, the feeling of being emptied and filled all over again overstimulating you immensely, yet satisfying your desire so beautifully.

He followed shortly after, shooting his load inside you accompanied by the release of your hair, relief washing over the both of you. Letting out a heavy, slutty breath into your ear, he slowed down significantly, gently fucking the mixture of cum inside of you. Your head was soon back on the bed, red from shame and regret at what you said before. However the man simply pulled out and collapsed beside you, both of you simply laying on your stomachs, backs rising and falling with the aftermaths of an intense session. He raised his hand to your head, caressing your scalp in a comforting manner, as to apologize for the pulling and yanking.

He sighed, a worrisome look on his pretty fuck-boy face. “Break up with her?” He whispered.. sounding sad… Sad? 

This asshole, what did he have to be sad about? You were the one crying yourself to sleep every night and eating alone more often than not. And imagine how his girlfriend would feel if she knew? This entitled, pretty asshole.

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily, turning your head to face the white-haired man. “Yes. She doesn't deserve to be cheated on for one, now you're just leading her on. Are you that dense or what?”

His head pulled back slightly in a contorted facial expression, seemingly offended by your comment. But he knew you were right, his eyes drifting away in thought. “You're right… Just.. let's sleep on it.” He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut.

Yeah, he sure did have a habit of putting this off. He'd always find an excuse not to think about it or talk about it.

You huffed, pulling away from his touch and rolling out of the trashy motel mattress. “No, that's your decision.” 

He pissed you off, his eyes fluttering open again and stupidly following you with the dumb puppy face. You ignored him though, limping your way to the bathroom with a change of clothes. 

Took a piss, showered, and changed within the next 20 minutes, you stepped out fully clean and refreshed. You dried up your hair a few feet away from the bed, Gojo watching your every move. Your face was scrunched up and angry, hating the fact that he was looking at you so desperately right now. Why'd you even let him fuck you? 

“I'm going home,” You grabbed your bag and phone, heading for the door.

Without even realizing, Gojo was rushing out of bed, quickly stumbling toward you, “Fuck do you mean? I'm not driving you back over right now..” He leaned against the door frame butt naked, dick hanging loose and head tilted sideways.

You pushed his chest lightly, “Put some clothes on, get some sleep. I'll take a bus or something.” Again, you turn away from him, heading for the door knob.

Gojo's hand grabbed your arm, tugging you softly. “Why are you mad… baby… you know how this goes..” He practically pleaded, a tired and worn out expression on his stupid face.

“Cut it out, please I'm done Satoru I'm tired of feeling like shit every day.” You threw your head back, sadness and anger finally broke through. 

“I'll cut her off, okay?” He spoke quickly and firmly, almost as if just to shut you up. After that, it was all a blur.

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

That day though, you fell for the facade, running right back into his arms, climbing right back into that bed, and continuing to be just the other woman.

Why you still do it? For the thrill? For the love? You sat for hours thinking about it, writing about it, crying about it. You almost told his girlfriend a couple of times. You have countless pages saved in your notes explaining everything to her, yes everything. But your heart and soul know you won't ever tell her, better yet jeopardize the “relationship” you have right now. 

“Hey love…” He would greet you, caressing your cheek and brushing through your hair with his pale slender fingers. “You're so beautiful baby… I don't deserve you.” He smiled warmly at you, love genuinely radiating from his body.

Was any of that real? He was right though. A cheater doesn't deserve you. But you weren't any fucking better that's for sure. You're not sure when this will end, but damn you hope it ends with you finally being content and happy. No longer, the other woman.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Right... I just have so much love for all of you and the support I've been getting on this... mind blowing! I hope y'all will enjoy this!😭✨🤍

warnings: cursing, mental health struggles, puking and angst just the same sweet angst.

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Carmen knew something was off. The moment you stepped out of the office. You were there, but your mind was elsewhere. You looked almost dazed. Fighting some battles Carmen didn't know of. So even if the heat of the kitchen was burning all around him, Carmy stopped. Striding away from his spot as he crosses the distance between the two of you. You flinched only when his fingers were slowly creeping against your upper arm. "You okay? Are you good?", he asked through the clicks of the pots.

Yet what brought all of the oxygen out of Carmy was the way you looked up at him. It was a look he had never seen on your face. Never directly at him. There was no way he could even describe that look. Sadness? Yet it didn't seem deep enough. Anger? The flames were barely sparkling. Disappointment? It looked more like a never-ending orb of nothingness. You were looking at him, but you might as well be looking through him, behind him.

"Darling", Carmen breathed, and you swallowed quickly, nodding your head. "Well, well. Where do you need me?" The tone of your voice nearly chilled Carmen's blood. Once again, there were no emotions that twisted through it. And that scared him because he did not know what was going on. And he wished he knew, "Are you sure?", he asked softly, moving to touch your face, but you slipped past his fingers. Humming as you step deeper into the kitchen, Carmy bit down on the frustration that suddenly blossomed within him. Trying to keep it down. At bey. To put a leash on it so it wouldn't come out clacking its teeth at you.

He turns back to you, calling out your name once more. The moment your eyes are on him, Carmen rubs his fist over the left side of his chest. Do the same thing, he begs in his mind; do the same thing. Calm down my mind. Tell me this is something we'll talk about in the privacy of our home. You watched the gesture. Watched. Nodded your head a couple of times, but the nods didn't even look like a nod of agreement. Just a look at something. Someone who wasn't fully there.

Maybe it was stupid that you didn't just address it. You knew you should have. Isn't that what grownups do? Get to the root of the problem and solve it. They don't run away from it. But you couldn't. A twisted part of you wanted to wait for Carmy to say it himself. Bring whoever Claire was himself. You had watched him pick up his phone during family. Fork still in your hands. You had left the messages open. It would have been the first thing he saw when he opened it. You waited for him to get uncomfortable. Frown maybe. Stager at the sight of it, but he didn't. Instead, a light smile softened his features. A fucking smile. The only person you'd seen him smile at was you. No one had received a single smile here in New York from Carmy. And here your form of reality was being crushed right in front of your eyes as you watched him eagerly type the reply.

Now you're here. In your bed. With what you now struggle to pinpoint as your boyfriend sprawled beside you, hand over your stomach, light snores leaving his mouth. You knew you could have. The phone was right there. You could unlock it. See what Carmy had to say in reply, but you couldn't bring yourself to. From the very start, trust was something you valued. Both of you did, or at least you thought you did. You both were the victims of late nights and schedules that overlapped. You had tried putting up a spreadsheet of your work and class times so you could cross over the free slots. Did it work? No, but you two had laughed over it at four am while eating shit gas station ice cream cones Carmy had bought.

"Do you believe in happily ever afters?", your head was hanging off the side of the couch, and your legs were up against the back cushions. Carmy was twisting a bottle of beer in his hand. This conversation was so random. You two had just started exploring the beginnings of the feelings blossoming within your chests. Here is the tiniest living room in New York at odd hours because that's how life was back then. "No", he said almost immediately, making you turn your head towards him. "Why not?", Carmy chuckled nervously, "There's no such thing as never-ending happiness". You had struck up a big fight there about that with him. "But would you want that? An ending like that?", you were ready to agree to disagree. Tiredness was already making you delusional. Carmy halted his answer here and took the last sip from his bottle before saying, "I think people are selfish. They want to have things constantly, but they never hold onto them in the end".

You wished you had let those words sink into you back then. Let the weight of them press into you. Because you had brushed it off way too soon. But that was the first and only time you had gotten so close. Truly get to the core of Carmy. Fuck sex. It brought bodies together. Minds too, if the bodies were truly in sync. But you can have sex with someone without even knowing them fully. The bliss of it all covered up the voids of the unknown.

Always have, but never hold. The words spun and spun in your head. Who was this man lying beside you? Did you know him? How long has he been seeing someone else? Was he even doing that, or were you being paranoid? You looked down at his sleepy face, so calm and without a single frowning line. Your fingers mindlessly ran over the scars and little freckles on his face. All these little, tiny details that had imprinted themselves in your brain. That you remembered in the back of your head. That you would remember even if he changed his mind and started loving someone else.

Bile rose in your throat, and you tried to breathe through it. But the thoughts kept on coming, snapping at the sides of your mind. Over and over and over and over and over. Bringing waves of nausea. And then it overflowed. You reached for the blanket, ripping Carmy's hand off your body as you rushed towards the bathroom. The dinner came right up, or at least the total of two bites you had managed to swallow, even if Sydney was nudging your side playfully, trying to lighten the mood and get you to eat something more. Then the acid rose next. Making the gagging more unbearable. You felt hands pulling your hair away from your face, and you jumped at the sensation. You knew it was Carmy, and it only made the tears that much more painful.

"Breathe through it; try not to gag aimlessly", Carmy's voice was soft, tired but soft, as he ran his hand up and down your back. "Do you still feel like throwing up?", he asked after flushing the water. Your body felt clammy. Cold but on fire at the same time. Your forehead was pressed into the side of the toilet seat as you tried to breathe. Tried to get the nausea away, yet moved to gag once more. But your mind was singing the same tune over and over. I'm so glad I got to see you again. I miss your silly face already. Your body trembled; the cold bathroom tiles soothed the nausea, yet your bones were catering from within, it seemed. Carmen didn't rush you, and for that, we're thankful. One more jab and you might just break.

Carmen was worried. He got woken up by your sharp movements, and the moment the gagging filled the quiet space, he was up. He wondered if your offbeat mood the whole evening was just the beginning of what was happening now. Maybe you were feeling off. Maybe there was something wrong with the food he gave you. But fuck, what if he poisoned everyone who ate? What if people, the customers, will be piling outside the restaurant tomorrow morning with papers in their hands, wanting to file reports? What if they sue him? Carmy would lose the last thing that tied him to Mikey. He couldn't. No, but what if... Another gag pulled Carmy out and back to the present.

"Do you want some water?", he leaned in to take a better look at your face, which was covered in beads of cold sweat. You shook your head, but Carmy still filled one up, "Wash your mouth at least; it'll feel better". You pulled yourself away from the toilet, palms pressed to the cold ground. Carmy pressed a quick kiss to your shoulder, watching you. His gaze burned your skin and face, but you didn't have it in you to say anything about it. Your head lulled back, and Carmy quickly moved behind you, catching it on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Do you think... should I get a doctor?", his tone sounded so much more panicked now as he ran his fingers over your skin. Things like this frightened him; you know about that. He was scared that any form of illness was going to take away the last and maybe only thing he truly cared about. But you shook your head.

You didn't have it in you. You could explain. Tell him it was panic and anxiety that had dragged you here, but you couldn't bring yourself to it. "No..", you whispered just as another sob slipped past your lips, and your hand instantly came to rest on Carmy's. "Just... hold me", you blurt out, breaking completely after that. All the nerves flowed freely down your cheeks alongside your tears. "Hold me, Carmy", and he did. And it's selfish. It's wrong, but you curl into him. Wrapping your whole body all around him. Clinging to him like a child. Letting his heat pour into you. Welcoming it. Trying to take handfuls of it in case he decides to take it away eventually. Rob you of the only happiness you had.

The days after that were a blur. You didn't leave the bed, and Carmy once again says nothing. He did slip back home early, sometimes even making midday stops. Bringing food that you rarely touched. Going as far as bringing home flowers, something he hadn't done since the first weeks of you two being together. You wondered if he ever noticed that you always kept and dried some of the petals from the bouquets that he gifted you. Now you just stared at the delicate, barely blooming things on the kitchen table while they stared at you. Until it got too heavy. Too real, and you dragged yourself back to the bedroom.

It had been close to a week when you found yourself walking the same old streets leading to the restaurant. The numbness had subsided. You managed a basic conversation with Carmen without bursting into tears. That was enough for the guilt of not doing enough in the restaurant and not helping Carmy grow. So after an hour-long shower, you quickly pulled your hair into a messy bun, threw some old baggy jeans on, pulled one of the older Carmy's hoodies on, and headed out.

"Get out of my way", Sydney's voice rang out even through the chaos of the kitchen assembly. A shiver ran through your body. What a hellhole this was if it had turned that girl into a shouting mess within days. "Fuck off, leave me alone", she barked, and you quickly stepped forward. Raising a warning finger at Tina, who was about to speak up. "Are you sure?", Marcus's gentle voice filled your ears. "I'm fucking sure! You ask Carmy if he was sure. You don't", the full force of Sydney's voice sent ripples through the place. What had happened here to make everyone so on edge? "So stick to your shit", she spat back at Marcus, who stood dead silent there.

You loved the guy. He was as sweet as a honey bun. Not a single bad bone in his body. So you gently rested your hand on his back, running it up and down in a comfortable manner. His eyes fell on you, and like a wave of relief, a wave of ease flowed through them. "Y/N", he muttered as you smiled at him softly, letting him wrap you up in a side hug for a moment. "Step out, chef", you murmured, patting his chest. "I'll take it from here", Marcus only nodded, giving Sydney one more apologetic look before slipping out of the freezer.

When the doors were barely open, you turned back to Sydney, who was standing there looking as on edge as you had felt all of this time. You reached your hands towards her. "Come here", you mumbled, inviting her into your embrace. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, shaking her head no. But you still stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her gently, and her frozen figure instantly let up. "Fuck, shit, I'm sorry", she muttered as a couple of tears fell from her eyes. "Yeah, not a big deal. Breathe for a minute, mhm?", you said softly, giving her time to feel it out. Give her enough breathing space. "This place sucks ass", she sighed, her head resting on your shoulder. "Tell me about it", you breathed out with a light chuckle.

"Fuck Carmy too, and I'm sorry, but fuck him", the amazement in her voice you had heard before when she talked of him was long gone. "He put so much shit on, wants me to do so much, but then.. then he takes off running", pulling away, Sydney runs her hands over her face in frustration. Then she stops, looking at you for a moment, and says, "I thought he was running to you, so I...", she must have seen the expression on your face because Sydney's voice died down, and she just nodded her head. You lowered your eyes to the floor. Ran off. Claire, no doubt. In a rush. Probably all excited. Probably even glad that you weren't around here much.

"You look like shit,", Sydney breathed out, "Sorry, but...", she shook her head, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh. "No, no, I saw myself in the mirror before I left. I know I look amazing", you air-quoted the last word, and Sydney snickered alongside you. You sat there for some time. Just letting the rare moment of silence surround you. "You don't let them kill your spark; you hear me", you said, turning to Sydney and gently tapping her thigh, "Throw shit back at them, but don't let them take away what you love most". Her eyes watched you, just like the first time you told her that you were proud of her. Just this time she leaned over, embracing you in another hug before muttering, "You don't know how much this means to me". But you knew. Because you knew how much it meant to you and how many times you hoped that someone would say those same words to you. But just like St. Frances's prayer went, Where there is darkness, let me be light.

"I'll be back as soon as possible", Carmy's voice rang through your apartment as he was getting ready to leave. He had opted for one of the later mornings. Drank coffee with you and ate at the same table. "I want to go to that market with you", he said while putting on the shirt. "We can", you muttered back, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest. "Stop by to eat before we go", Carmy stepped closer to you, hands resting on your hips as he looked at you.

"We'll get through this", he muttered, leaning against you. "I love you; take care of yourself today", he said, cupping your face in his hands. Carmy pressed a kiss on your forehead. Your hands sneaked beneath his shirt, fingers dancing on his naked skin, which was always way warmer than yours. You hesitated for a moment. Not sure if your decision was the right one. "Can we talk tonight? I want to talk about this. What's going on", your voice was barely a whisper, but from the way Carmy's eyes glistened, you knew that he heard you just fine. He smiled softly at you, kissing your forehead once more before bringing you closer to his embrace. "We'll talk later," he said, "Talk about it all if you want". You followed him to the door, holding onto his hand until Carmy had stepped far enough away from you, his fingers slipping through yours. "Be more gentle with them today", you called after him. Carmy looked up from the staircase and said, "Heard, chef".

You had found joy in cleaning the space for the time. Going as far as unpacking all the kitchen stuff from the boxes. A light smile on your face as you slowly filled out the empty shelves and drawers, sorting everything out just like you knew that Carmy was going to love it. Maybe that's another part of what's been missing—this sense of stability and belonging. You never wanted to stay in New York for long; sure, Carmy was doing wonders there, but you had hoped that you two would move to a smaller, less crowded city after you were done with your studies. Finally, start something new for yourself. Life sure altered those plans, but you also helped it get worse. Those boxes could have easily been unlocked weeks ago. You just mentally told yourself not to.

You had just finished cutting up the empty boxes when the doorbell rang. Strange, you thought as you looked at the clock. It was way too early for Carmy to be home, and you weren't even supposed to meet here. Maybe he left his keys and wallet? Something for the restaurant? You dropped the box cutter to the side, getting up quickly and paddling towards the door. "What did you...", but your voice died down almost as soon as it started. You blinked a couple of times, "How can I help you?".

The girl shifted awkwardly, backing away so she could look at the number above the door before she took a second glance at you. "I'm looking for Carmen", she said, a smile spreading across her face. "I think this is the right apparent, but... He never said someone lived with him". You clenched the door handle in your hand so hard that your knuckles turned white. "Let me guess, Claire?". you said through gritted teeth. She smiled so brightly that, for a split second, the urge to punch her was burning bright within you.

"Same old, can I come in?", she pointed to the still somewhat ajar door, "I can just wait for him inside; I won't bother you". You clenched your jaw. You weren't even sure what you were thinking. If she knew where he lived. If he had told her that. Was he hoping you would get out of the apartment sooner to do your daily walk to the local gallery and he could just be here with her? "Of course, make yourself at home", you yanked the door open, moving to the side.

"So you two are roommates?", she asked so innocently, making you let out a chuckle as you watched her move around the place. "Yeah, it might be just that", you said bluntly, still unsure of what to do next. "And you two? How do you know him?", you asked after a while, your tone more than bitter. Her face softens as she sits down on the little, run-down sofa. "Childhood sweethearts, been Claire Bear ever since", she chimed, and you could swear you heard your heart breaking. A nickname. He had even given her a nickname. And she must have been his first, meaning that all you two had... Everything Carmy said was just between you and he was a lie. You blinked quickly a couple of times.

"How sweet...", you muttered, turning away from her, as the first tears rolled down your cheeks, but you quickly wiped them off. "You know...", you said, turning back to her. Letting yourself glance at how stunning she was. "Good you're here; I was just moving out and had to run", you blurt out. "I'll leave you here with the keys if you don't mind", plastering the fakest smile, you watched her nod before you darted towards your bedroom. Yanking the first box in front of you open, shoving random stuff into your bag. Kicking random stuff out of your way. You wanted to scream about how stupid you were. Was that why Richie hated you? He must know about her. All of them. All of his family. Maybe they even think they are together, and then who were you, some random bimbo showing up uninvited?

You thought about just walking out like that. You didn't own any of them anything. Especially not her, but you still halted, "Do tell Carm that I'm proud of him; he did a good job", and with that, you slipped out. Rushing down the stairs.

You barely saw where you were going through the tears that were now flowing freely down your cheeks. Was taking the car a bad idea? Yes, but you needed to get as far away from all of this. Another person honked at you, making you swirl the steering wheel in the opposite direction. You weren't thinking straight; you knew that. Equally, as much as you know that you shouldn't be driving now. You weren't even sure if you could stop where you did, but you were beyond caring. Quickly shuffling through your bag, you reached for your phone. You wiped your eyes messily as you tried to find the right caller id.

There was no one here. You didn't have a family here. There were no friends you could crash at. This wasn't your city. You should have never come here in the first place. "Bunny, bunny, bunny", the smooth voice quickly replaced the calling sound, and you clapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sob from slipping through your lips. "Long time no call. I was starting to think you had forgotten about me", it called out, you shook your head even if no one could see it. Your insides felt like they were going to explode. The line went silent. You tried to speak up, but you just couldn't get a single sound to escape your throat. "Bun?", it called out again, much more concerned this time. Just how you wished someone would have been considered for you ever since. That broke the last string within you, making you let out such a heartbreaking sob that you felt sorry for yourself at the moment. You just cried there until you could finally pull yourself together enough to mutter, "Luca".

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

Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld

[topguncortez]

“i’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same.” with rooster! please and thank you! :)

prompts list:) thank you for the request!

All of Rooster’s life he was told that everyone gets one “great love” in their life. His mother’s great love was obviously his father and the one reason why she never remarried. Rooster could remember when he was about 13 or 14, asking his mother why she never remarried. It had been over 10 years since his father’s passing and Carole had never so much as looked at a male the way she did Goose.

“Because it wouldn’t be fair,” Carole told her son, a sad smile on her face, “It wouldn’t be fair to marry a man knowing I couldn’t love him the way I love your father. He was my great love… and I’ll never find another one like that.”

Bradley wondered if towards the end of her life, when she was alone in the house for those last couple of years when he was off at school, if maybe, just maybe she wished she had someone there. He asked her again, on one of the last good days she had, if she wished she had found someone to spend her life with.

Carole again, gave him a sad smile, “It wouldn’t be fair. There’s only one person I’ve been praying about seeing again.”

Bradley hadn’t realized it at the time, but the older he got, the more he envied what his parents had. “A Great Love” that was as if it came straight from a romance novel. “A Great Love” that held steady for years, despite his father being deceased for more than half of it. “A Great Love” that seemed to come so easy to them but for Bradley, was nearly impossible.

Except, it wasn’t impossible.

No, Bradley did have a “Great Love”, in the form of the neighbor girl who lived in the blue house next door. The girl who used to make mudpies with in the backyard. The girl who teased him relentlessly when he got braces only to end up with wires on her own teeth a couple of weeks later. The girl who is his best friend… and is currently crying on his couch over her now ex-boyfriend.

“A-And he was saying stuff and I-“ You sucked in a deep breath, trying to will the tears to stop falling down your cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Ducky," Rooster said, using the age-old nickname, even though he wasn't in the slightest sorry. Sure, he felt bad that you got your heartbroken, but he was celebrating the fact that Douchebag Dan was finally out of your life, "You deserve better."

"I thought he was the one!" You sobbed, "He had me sending him ring options!"

And suddenly Bradley hated Douchebag Dan even more than he did fifteen minutes ago when you showed up at his doorstep.

"Hey," Bradley said shifting closer to you, his thigh touching yours, "You know what this means though, right," You looked up at him with big sad eyes and the most adorable wobble of your bottom lip, "Your great love is still out there."

You rolled your eyes, "I'm starting to think that's a hock of shit," You flopped back on the couch defeated, "I've dated three guys in my lifetime all for over two years and none of them have put a ring on my finger," You held up your hand, wiggling your ring finger, "It's just not going to happen. I don't have a great love."

"Sure you do."

"Where!?" You looked over at Bradley, "Where is mine?"

"Maybe, you're looking too hard for it. Maybe they're closer than you think," Bradley simply shrugged, reaching for his beer bottle on the coffee table.

"Yeah?" You quipped, "What about you? Have you met your 'great love'."

Bradley sucked in a breath, knowing he couldn't lie to you about this or hell, about anything, "Yeah," He admitted, "But she doesn't feel the same."

You felt a pang in your heart, causing you to sit up, pulling your legs underneath you, "Does she know?"

Bradley shrugged, "I think so. I mean, I-I've known her forever."

"Oh," You were trying to rack your brain of the potential girls that Bradley had his heart set on, "Do I know her?"

"Mhm," Bradley pursed his lips, taking another sip of his beer for he stupidly gave himself and his stupid crush away. A stupid crush that could mean the end of the longest, greatest friendship he has ever had. You were the one thing from his childhood that had managed to stick around. You were there when his mother died, when his dreams of following his father's footsteps came crashing down, when he got his acceptance letter to UVA, when he graduated flight school and got his wings, when he graduated from TopGun.

All the major memories that Bradley had, you were always right there. He couldn't let a stupid crush end that. He couldn't let his heart and his feelings complicate things. He couldn't-

"It's Phoenix, isn't it?"

Bradley spat his beer out of his mouth, coating the coffee table in sticky alcohol. Your eyes widened as he coughed and wiped the beer from his lips.

"What?" He choked out.

"Your great love," You muttered, "Is it Phoenix?"

"Hell no," Bradley shook his head, "That-that's crazy."

"Not really, she's pretty and you're around her all the-"

"It's you," Bradley cut you off.

You felt your heart stop in your chest as you stared at your best friend, "W-What?"

He sighed, hanging his head in shame, "It's you, Y/N. It has always been you. You are my "great love"."

"Bradley, I-"

Bradley shook his head, "I didn't mean to do this. Not when you're upset over Douchebag Dan, but. . .fuck, I can't take it anymore," He stood up from his spot on the couch, beginning to pace, "Watching you go with guys who have no idea what it means for you to look at them like they hung the fucking stars. To have you love them and kiss them and be with them day after fucking day. I love you, Y/N. I have been in love with you."

Fresh tears were in your eyes as you looked at the man who is your best friend, "Why didn't you tell me?" Your voice was barely above a whisper.

"Because I’m worried that if we go there, and things don't work out... things might never be the same," Bradley's big brown eyes shone with unshed tears, "And you're all I have left. I can't lose you."

"You won't lose me," You stood up from your spot on the couch, walking over to him, "Cause I love you too," You grabbed his face in your hands and placed a kiss on his lips.

[xan-izme]

Dubble Life (ACTSV x reader x Batfam) 4

Summary: Reader made a promise to never let Spider-Woman out. Knowing the dangers of putting that mask on. Reader is starting off fresh now, and they will be damned if anyone tries to have you pull that mask down your face again.

Part 3 Part 5

TW: break downs, mentions of past trauma, mentions of mental health

"Just listen to me!" Gwen was following you as you were still franticly searching for Damian.

"Bug off Gwen. Don't need the society's shit right now." You spoke harshly. Gwen sighed as she watched your stressed expression switch between worry and frustration.

Gwen stopped and spoke. "I know your probably still hurting. But New York needs Spider Woman. Your uncle and Miles can't hold Brooklyn down forever." You paused and turned your head to the blonde.

"More anomalies are showing up. The Prowlers aren't fit to control them. If this keeps up, who knows what will happen." Gwen was staring at you with those big blue eyes of her's.

You always used to like looking into Gwen's eyes. Her eyes always held this kind of sadness in them, sadness you and her connected with. But no, you see no connection. At least not the same as before.

". . .I'm sorry Gwendy. But I don't have time for this."

You made sure the coast was clear before shooting a web to a nearby building and land in an alleyway.

After nearly two hours of searching for Damian and nearly having a break down. Alfred was able to find you and inform you that Damian was safe and was currently with Bruce. Damian had wanted to stay with Bruce. And you decided to go back to the manor.

"Don't do that again Damian. You can't just leave your sister like that." Bruce scolded his son for making you worry. Knowing you must have been freaking out with the way he had disappeared. Damian sighed.

"If she's cross with me, then I'll tell her I went back for this." Damian lifted up an album. Bruce frowns in confusion. Because how the hell is a Boney M album going to calm you down?

"Lady Y/n. Is there anything you need before-"

"No Alfred! I just need some rest; I'll be in my room." You rushed up the stairs. And slammed your room door.

You finally took a seat on your bed. A second passed, and your breathing started to pick up, a minute passed, and your eyes began to sting from the incoming tears that seem to build up until your eyes couldn't hold them any longer, letting the tear drops fall.

It wasn't long till you became a sobbing mess.

it was too much. Emotions you didn't know were still in you started to burst out of control. You were a crying mess.

Why?

Were you stressed?

Or is it that you miss your family back in New York?

Were you upset seeing Gwen? Was seeing her bring back memories that you didn't want to see? Memories of people you don't want to remember?

No. . . that's not it, is it.

It was what happened with Damian. How he let your hand go, and just disappeared. It's funny, you don't really like the boy. Well, his attuited is what you distaste the most. But you were crying, because you thought you almost lost him.

You were scared you almost let someone who was your blood, your kin, die.

What a silly thought. Don't be thinking these things. Suck it up, you keep doing this and let these feelings show to the family. They won't be happy. If they aren't happy because you're not happy. You'll ruin the mood.

So, suck it up, you thought to yourself. Forget those silly thoughts, forget that knot you feel in your chest. Because your Y/n Morals- . . . Wayne. Y/n Wayne.

And this family, this manor. Is your fresh start. Your new beginning. And in order to make sure this new life of yours is to keep them safe. Make sure Spider-woman is never involved in their lives. Make sure they live.

Hours passed. There was no dinner time tonight. Which you were thankful for. You washed up and got yourself ready for bed.

Your phone began to ring. You stared at the contact number.

Miles👾

You took in a shaky breath and answered the call.

"Hey. . .you good?"

You smiled in relief from hearing your cousins voice.

"Yea. . . did you need something? Is Tia Rio, okay?" You questioned. Worried by the way Miles spoke.

"No- I mean yes! yes Mami's alright, It just . . ."

Your eyes squint, getting curies, and a little worried as to what was the matter.

"Just what?" Your voice seemed to have snapped Miles out of whatever train of thought he had.

"One of those people, a woman. Jess, she said her name was. She stopped by here. Saying she had a package for you."

You felt your heart stop for a second. Why the hell was Jess there.?

"A-and I heard her talking to dad. She claimed she was a doctor you and your mom used to go to. Sis, she was saying some shit bout you being mentally ill. And it looks like Dad and Mami bought it."

You began cussing at whatever caused this to happen.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. Mami's going to drop off the package tomorrow at noon. She'll most likely bring it up to Bruce."

You sighed. You can handle this. You just have to observe, be patent and don't jump too early. Make sure to make the right moves. One wrong move, especially in front of Tia Rio. It's game over.

"Thanks bro. Goodnight, love you." You say as you lean on your desk. Your posture made it clear that you were absolutely exhausted for the day.

"Love you too. Good luck."

Miles hung up and you were once again alone with the silence in your room. You grabbed a CD and popped it in the CD player. You had to keep yourself distracted.

You needed to be distant from those silly thoughts. But don't float away now, you have to plan on how things are going to be tomorrow.

You want to jump and go straight into why in the hell did Jessica Drew go to Miles's house. A place you had made clear was off limits. You had informed Jess and Peter B that the places where your family is, are off-limits. Meaning Uncle Aarons apartment, Miles's apartment and the Wayne Manor in Gotham.

But for now, focus on the challenges that are in front of you now.

The next day came around. Damian had apologized and gave you a album as an apology.

You ended up forcing him to watch a horrible rom com just to get something out of it. And you did.

"That was stupid, and I'm never doing this again."

You laughed at Damian's words. The boy was truly fun to watch. A second past before you two heard a knock. You both look at the doorway to see Alfred.

"Lady Y/n. Your aunt is here to see you." The man said.

You began to mentally prepare yourself as you stood up and walked off to your room, that was where Alfred led Rio to wait for you.

As Rio was waiting for you. She took a look at your room. Your books were organized on the bookshelf. Pictures of you and Miles when you two were younger on the walls. One picture was on your nightstand. It was of her sister, your mother.

Rio didn't know you were seeing a therapist. Well, after what happened with that friend of yours a few years back. You did need it.

You just seemed so happy, even after that incident. But Rio now knows that you were only so happy because of your mother. After she died, Rio hasn't heard your laugh in a while.

The door to your room opened. You smiled, walking towards Rio with a smile.

Rio hugged you tight. She pulled away and saw how tired you look. She cups your face in worry.

"Oh, my baby. You look tired, have you been sleeping? Are you eating well? How about Bruce? Is he being good to you? I sware if he is not-" You chuckled and held both of her hands and kept them close to you.

"I'm okay, Bruce is nice. He's been spoiling me actually."

Rio calmed down and nods "And sleep? Hija mía, parece que no has dormido."

"Ah, I fell behind my studies last week and have been working to catch up. Don't worry I'm good now. My grades are safe!"

Rio smiled and sighed in relief. "I came here to drop this off. Your Therapist, Mrs. Drew?" Rio took out a box that was a size of a jewelry box. You took it and set it down on your nightstand.

"Honey is-. . ." You waited for what Rio was going to say. Was she going to ask about that 'theripist' of yours? Whatever Jess said, it seems to have made Rio upset.

"Is Bruce here? I need to speak to him."

You sighed and shook your head "Sorry, he's still at work." Rio nods and just smiled again as she gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. You and Rio went downstairs so you could walk her to her car.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Your uncle has got a new position now. He's going to be captain!" Rio smiled widely as she told you news.

You smiled and grabbed her hand. You kissed the back of her hand gave it a tight squeeze "Thats amazing"

You were spacing out. It looked like you were staring at something but thinking of nothing. But you were thinking of a lot of things. You wanted to live peacefully. Is that selfish?

Being Spider-Woman was amazing. You felt strong, felt like you could overcome anything that came your way. And protect loved ones made you feel safe. Knowing that you could protect them, made you feel safe.

But after your mother. After finding out the truth from Miguel. You didn't feel safe, you no longer felt like you could keep your loved ones or anyone around you safe. Not when you have that mask on.

So, you gave up the mask, made sure that without a Spider woman in your universe, things wouldn't go to hell. But every time, every time you thought things were okay, thought that everyone was safe from Spider Woman. The society keeps coming to ruin it. You had to find a way to stop them.

"Y/n? Hello?"

You snapped out of your train of thought. "Huh? Oh, sorry Damian, what were you saying?" You leaned in on your palm and gave your brother a smile.

"Movie. I'm bored." The boy bluntly said. You paused and began to process what he said. You smiled warmly and walked with Damian to the screen room.

You swear to all the gods, you won't let the mask take what you have left.

[sopebubbles]

Four

Master list

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: the boys learn several uncomfortable things about you.

Warnings: nothing? that I can think of. Y'all know this shit is sad, but the pack is so comforting.

Wc: 4.5k

"Where are you going?" Jimin asked when he opened his eyes to find you only a few steps from the door.

You froze before pivoting on your toes. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you," you answered in a nearly inaudible voice.

Jimin stretched his neck as he sat up. "I wasn't really sleeping. What are you doing?"

You relaxed onto your heels and looked around in confusion, as though you weren't sure yourself. "I was just feeling suffocated in the room and wanted some air. I thought I could step out without bothering anyone since you were all sleeping."

He started to ask if you were leaving, but then he swallowed his words. "We can go out to the backyard if you want to walk around a little," he said instead.

You nodded as an answer and walked toward him.

"You'll want this," he told you when you came near, grabbing Yoongi's hoodie off the arm of the couch. He had changed into it when he got home from work several hours ago, and had taken the time to carefully scent it with all the alphas before casually leaving it downstairs, as if by mistake. But Jimin knew better. "It's chilly out tonight."

You took the sweatshirt he offered you. You sniffed it and tugged it on with less hesitation than he expected. Maybe you knew what Yoongi had predicted: some comforts you just needed. You were still just in someone's shorts, but he figured you wouldn't be out too long. The beta moved a pair of slides by the door in front of you to slip your feet into before he held the door open for you. You smiled so softly at him that he felt his heart stop, over the moon at how easily you accepted his gentle way of caring for you, and he returned a smile back.

There wasn't much in the square patch of the backyard. Jimin watched your figure as you walked down the three steps to the sidewalk leading to the back gate. To the left of the door, in the corner, was a table with several chairs sitting on a slab of concrete. The rest of the yard was just grass, not yet needing a cut as spring had only just started. Hobi had been begging Jin to make a proper patio for everyone to enjoy since Jimin joined the pack four years ago, but Jin kept insisting they would move into a bigger house soon. When they had bought the house shortly after Kookie became an established member of their small pack, with considerable assistance from their families, they hadn't imagined their numbers would more than double in size, at least not without any pups of their own. A bigger house would be nice, of course, but there was something cozy to Jimin about stuffing the just slightly too small house to the brim with love.

Jimin sat on the top step and leaned his elbows on his knees, and his eyes followed you as you skirted along the fence. He could see you were still a bit shaky on your legs, and you seemed to be focused on putting one foot directly in front of the other.

"Where are you from, Y/N?"

Your head snapped to look at him with wide, startled eyes, as if you'd forgotten he was there. You stared at him a moment before you said, "Sorry, I don't remember your name."

He smiled again, softly. "I'm Jimin."

You nodded and began to walk along the fence line again, ignoring his question, so he asked another. "How long have you lived in the city?"

"What makes you think I'm not from here?"

It was your accent, a slight drawl on your words that you'd never quite managed to eliminate. Jimin shrugged. "Just a hunch."

You turned the corner at the back of the yard so you faced the house and looked up at the dark windows behind which his pack slept soundly. "How do you know about True Life?" you asked, clearly not wanting to give him the control of the conversation.

You weren't going to answer his questions, but at least you were talking to him, so he didn't mind answering. "I work at a shelter for teens, so I know about all the shelters in the area."

Your mouth made a soundless 'oh' as you continued along the fence toward the house. Jimin wondered if you were aware you were marking their property or if it was subconscious. Maybe you were claiming their space as your own. Maybe you were trying to draw in other alphas with your scent. Maybe you just had no idea what you were doing.

"How long have you been there?" He asked when you didn't say anything.

"A couple weeks." You shrugged and added a moment later, "I lost my second job and couldn't pay my rent and now I don't know what I'm going to do."

"I can help you find a job." Jimin perked up at being able to make the offer. "I know places in town that have no problem hiring omegas and who offer heat leave."

"I don't need heat leave, as long as I can afford the good pills," you told him. "I just ran out this month."

"The ones they gave you can cause long-term infertility," Jimin told you.

You snorted. "I don't care about that. I'm not ever having kids. I just didn't take them because they make my stomach hurt so bad." Jimin nodded his head and went silent for a moment as you continued tracing a path at the edge of the grass. "Is that what you do then? You help people get jobs?" You asked as you turned around and went back the other way.

"I'm a social worker. I help people get the things they need. Whether that's a job or school…or a pack." Jimin saw your back stiffen at the word, a minor hiccup in your pacing before you resumed. "Would that be something I could help you with?"

You turned the corner to walk across the back perimeter again, hiding your face in shadow. "I don't need a pack," you said quietly but firmly.

"Living on your own in the city can be really hard. Making ends meet, taking care of yourself. There are all kinds of packs. Not all are together for mating. Sometimes a pack can just be friends who care about you. When Taehyung came to us, he wasn't looking for partners, but family."

You sighed heavily at his words. "Your pack seems nice enough, but not all packs are like that. Everyone acts like packs are something you have to have, but not all packs mean safety. Shitty people don't stop being shitty just because they're pack."

Jimin's breath caught in his chest. Of course, he knew most packs weren't as good as his. And he knew that there were plenty of bad people out there, even Lykos. But he didn't like to imagine what could have happened to you to bring out such bitterness in your voice.

"But I'm sure someone like you wouldn't understand that," he heard you mutter under your breath.

Behind him, Jimin could hear the front door open on the other side of the house. It had to be Jungkook coming home from his shift. He heard the thick clunk of boots where he took them off by the door, and then nothing as the other beta moved with practiced stealthiness around the otherwise silent house.

Jimin didn't take offense at your assumptions of him. It was obvious enough that you spoke from a place of pain, and that was something Jimin could easily understand, and even empathize with. He rubbed his palms together and gathered his thoughts before speaking.

"My parents died when I was ten. My mom was sap, my dad was a beta, so we never had a pack. We never even had a normal family. After the accident, I lived in a series of group homes. Some were fine. Some were worse than others, but the one nice thing was being surrounded by other people like me. I met lots of people who had it worse than me. Kids who had been adopted only to be sent back when their new family didn't want them. Others who got kicked out of the group home when they presented and couldn't control their instincts. I was lucky because I was able to go from there to college without having to navigate those years all on my own. But after I graduated it was really difficult for me to live alone. Through some friends, I found out about a…collective of sorts, where young Lykos lived together. They weren't a pack per se but they were able to help each other out in ways like a pack. Resource sharing, budgeting, physical closeness. Like I said, it wasn't a pack bond, not like what we have here, but it was better than being all alone."

You had stopped at the other side of the fence and stood with your back against the wooden planks. He waited for you to say something, but he didn't expect the words you spoke next. "I would've guessed a pack would've wanted someone like you very early on."

Jimin's face heated, and he was glad you couldn't see it in the dark. "I'm not sure what you mean by that." Although by your tone it sounded like a compliment.

"I just mean that you're attractive and pleasant to be around. And doesn't everyone want betas in their pack? You're supposed to be stable and reliable, right?" You tilted your head to the right when you asked in a very endearing gesture.

Jimin cleared his throat. He could still feel the blush on his cheeks. "I was a late bloomer. For a while I thought I might actually turn out to just be sap like my mother. To this day, my scent is still fainter than anyone I've ever known. So I guess I'm not as attractive as you think."

You snorted again and pushed away from the fence. "If I had been you, I would've just pretended I was normal. You could live a perfectly ordinary life. Not like us freaks." You mumbled the end but Jimin wouldn't ignore it.

"There's nothing abnormal or freaky about who you are. And anyone who told you otherwise is just plain wrong. I chose this life because it belongs to me. Anyone who has made you feel like being alone is better doesn't know what they're missing, whether sap or Lykos."

You stopped in your tracks away from him and to his surprise, you turned to walk toward him. "I was born to God-knows-who, and the first thing my mother did with me was throw me in the garbage. Literally. And instead of leaving me be, some idiots hauled me out of the dumpster and gave me to a family who wanted nothing but a slave and who threw me out as soon as I got my first heat. Being alone isn't a choice for me, Jimin. It's just what I am."

Without waiting for a response you walked past him up the steps and into the house, letting the screen door slam behind you, causing him to jump. Jimin hung his head in his hands, applying pressure to his temples as he considered what you had said and his own stupidity. He knew better than to assume he knew anyone's story, or to tell people what he thought they needed instead of asking first. But something about you prevented him from thinking professionally.

Jungkook came home tired as ever. No, more tired than he'd been all week. He and his partner had been the first responders to an absolutely horrific scene of a murder. Although he spent most of his shift holding the police line, being the lowest man on the totem pole, it hadn't left him unaffected. As he pulled his feet from his shoes, he wanted nothing more than to plant himself face first on the closest soft surface and sleep for a day. He struggled clumsily with the buttons of his shirt, yanking the bottom free from his trousers before he fumbled with his belt buckle. He couldn't bring himself to climb the stairs to the pack's nest, so he shuffled to the spare room and left his clothes in a pile at the foot of the bed he now slept in more often than not. He kneeled on the bed in nothing but his boxers to crawl his way to the middle and sank into the warm space. The smells that greeted him were different but familiar. Hobi's sweet brown sugar was there, but faintly, hiding behind a saccharine apple. Jungkook registered the difference on some level, maybe even knew it was wrong to be there, but the scents were so comforting he couldn't help but melt into them. He pulled your pillow to his face and covered himself with the single blanket before he quickly fell asleep.

A loud bang had his eyes popping open. Alert to danger but still half asleep. Had he slept for hours or seconds? Moments later the door to the room closed harshly and the edge of bed dipped before a body collided with his. And then a scream. Jungkook scrambled off the bed for the light switch, nearly falling when his legs tangled in the blanket. After they turned on, Jimin appeared, throwing the door open to see what was wrong. All three of you breathed heavily as you looked at one another.

"What are you doing here?" You half screeched before the betas could say a word.

"Fuck! God. Y/N, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Jungkook sputtered, gasping. "I was just so exhausted that I forgot you were staying here. I sleep here a lot and I just…forgot."

Jungkook's chest caved in as he watched you shake in front of him. He had promised you safety and security, assured you that no one would bother you, but he was the first to trespass. Regret stole his words from his mouth, and you said nothing at all. He looked to Jimin for some kind of help, and luckily the other man was there to give it. He took Jungkook by the wrist and pulled him gently out of the room.

"Sorry, Y/N. Get some rest, and I'll check on you in the morning," he told you quietly. He reached for the light switch before closing the door.

"Leave it," you said, urgently, fearfully.

Jimin nodded and pulled the door shut. It clicked with finality.

"I'm sorry, hyung," Jungkook breathed out in the relative darkness of the hallway.

Jimin shushed him as he led the larger man to the living room. "Don't waste your breath apologizing to me, Kookie. It was an honest mistake. She's a little worked up, otherwise I'm sure she'd see that, too."

Jungkook stopped cold, making himself difficult to lead. "What happened? Why's she worked up?" He looked back over his shoulder toward your door.

"Jungkook, you look like you're going to keel over. Sit down for a minute," Jimin coaxed, guiding him to the couch. He sat and took the glass of water Jimin offered him, drinking without hesitation.

"Did something else happen?" he asked after draining the glass.

Jimin shrugged. "Not exactly. I don't know. We were just talking, and I might have said the wrong thing or at the wrong time. She just said some things…about herself." He sighed and reached out for Jungkook. Feeling the beta solidly beneath his hands always had a grounding effect. "Her troubles haven't started recently, Jungkook. I think maybe her whole life has been nothing but pain and trouble."

"I know," Jungkook said, sounding like he meant it concretely, not merely as a suspicion.

"Did you find something about her?"

Jungkook sagged against the couch and rubbed his face with his hands. "I did, but is it okay if we go through it tomorrow?"

Jimin smiled softly and ruffled his hair. "Of course, Kookie. I'll help you get upstairs so you can get some rest."

Jungkook yawned wide, stretching out his long arms. "I'll sleep here. You can go up."

"No, baby," Jimin shook his head.

"It's okay. I promise I won't bother her again."

"It's not about her, Kook. It's about you getting proper rest in the nest. Now."

Jungkook sighed. "I can't. I don't smell right after work. I don't want to ruin everyone's sleep."

Jimin's face crumpled. "Is that why you never come up anymore?" Jungkook nodded, eyes fixed on his knees. It's at least most of the truth. "Baby, no one cares. They'll get you smelling right in no time. C'mon, let's go."

Jimin pulled Jungkook like dead weight, but eventually got him to his feet. Jungkook was too tired to not let the smaller man bear his weight as they made their way up the stairs. When they got to the pack's bedroom, the door opened with a creak that Hoseok had been meaning to fix. The omega lifted his head from the bed in an attempt at alertness.

"Pup delivery," Jimin whispered, placing Jungkook gently on the edge of the nest. Hands from more than one person reached out to hold him and he was completely engulfed, snuggled in by his mates before Jimin closed the door once again.

Hobi could be nibbly in the morning. Jungkook had nearly forgotten about that. It had been a while since he had felt the omega's tongue lap at his scent gland, nudging him awake with his nose and gentle kisses.

"Morning, baby," Jungkook chuckled.

"Wakey, wakey," Hobi sang, though he was hardly awake himself, still feeling sleepy and far from ready to start the day.

"How did you sleep?" Jungkook asked conversationally as he carded his fingers through his omega's hair, keeping his voice low since he wasn't sure if the others were awake. The body on the other side of him—Yoongi probably—felt very still. Jungkook didn't know how he'd ended up in the middle of the nest, but he was pleased to be there.

Hoseok smiled against his shoulder. "So good, Kookie. I've missed you in the nest. I'll keep that girl here forever if it will make you sleep next to me every night."

Jungkook stiffened. Guilt for too many wrongs to count washed through him. But Hobi was quick to stroke a soothing hand down his chest. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

"Shh. I didn't say that to make you feel bad. I just love having you here. We've been together for so long that it doesn't feel quite right to have you missing. I feel like I wash the sheets twice as often because they don't smell the same without you," he chuckled. "But it's okay. I know you need space right now."

Jungkook pulled his mate tighter to him, inhaling the sweet scent from the top of his head. "I'll try not to be so distant. I know it isn't fair to you."

Hoseok shook his head. "I just want you to be happy, pup. But you don't seem very happy these days."

Yoongi shifted on his other side, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling his other shoulder.

Jungkook hummed. "I'm happy right now."

"Now if only Jiminie were here this nest would be perfect," Hoseok mused.

"I'm here!" Jimin called from the hallway outside.

Hoseok lifted his head over Jungkook's chest. "Get your cute little butt in here then!"

Jimin didn't waste a second in following orders. He skipped to the bed where he was playfully pulled down to the mattress by a giggling Taehyung and squished into place between the alpha and Yoongi.

"Why were you out in the hallway, baby? Is everything okay downstairs?"

Jimin lifted himself up to hook his chin over Yoongi's shoulder. "Everything's…fine. I just missed you guys, and I thought I could do the job just as well from up here as down there," he admitted sheepishly.

"Was the door slamming and a scream last night real? Or did I dream about it?" Namjoon asked from the other side of the bed.

"Oh," Jungkook remembered. "I might have scared Y/N last night. On accident."

"After I made her upset, which is why she slammed the door," Jimin added.

Jin seemed suddenly aware, looking between the two betas with alert eyes. "How did you upset her?"

"I was trying to talk to her about the benefits of being in a pack. But I think I hit a nerve."

"How so?"

"She…she told me that she was abandoned as a newborn and adopted by saps who treated her horribly."

"And then I accidentally fell asleep in her bed and freaked her out."

Jin sat up, choosing for the moment to gloss over Jungkook's transgression to look at Jimin. "So she's basically always been alone?" Hoseok's hand found his, gripping him for comfort at such an unimaginable thought.

Jimin grimaced. "Not necessarily. Something she said last night stood out. I think she might have had a pack at one point. But based on what she said, it wasn't a good experience."

Hoseok tilted his head curiously. "What did she say?"

"She said bad people are still bad in packs, and packs aren't always safe," Jimin frowned.

Hoseok shuddered. "You might be onto something," Jungkook said.

Yoongi opened his eyes for the first time, though he'd been listening all along. "What did you find out?"

Jungkook cleared his throat but his voice came out nervously. "Before she came to this city, she served six months in a county jail in another state for solicitation."

"What?!" Several voices demanded, the whole nest suddenly in movement.

"A friend of mine who's on desk duty did some digging for me and found out she'd been arrested. In her testimony, she said that her alpha forced her to do it, but she pleaded guilty."

Hoseok thought he might actually throw up. He had heard stories on the news of omega sex workers before. Not just Lykos but even more often Sapiens would pay to have sex with omegas. But the thought that an alpha would do that to one they called their own chilled him to the bone.

Namjoon tugged his hands through his hair, his mind frantically trying to think of a way to make such an alpha pay for the crime. "Was the alpha arrested too?"

Jungkook shook his head. "She wouldn't give a name because she feared for her safety."

Jin's skin stretched painfully over his knuckles as he fisted the blanket. If his mother heard this she would use her family's considerable wealth and power to track down that alpha and make him suffer. Could he call in such a favor on your behalf?

Without a word, Taehyung got up and walked to the door.

"Tae, where are you going?" Jimin asked, anxious at the sudden loss of his mate.

"I don't want to hear anymore," Tae replied angrily.

"Sweetheart-"

"No. I don't want to hear any more about her from you. It feels wrong to know these things about her when she hasn't told me herself. It's an invasion of privacy and I won't listen."

"I'm sorry, Tae. I was just trying to figure out how we could help her," Jungkook defended himself.

Taehyung sighed, looking back at his lover. "I get that. And I want to help her, too. I just…ugh. I haven't even really seen her and I haven't gotten to talk to her. It feels weird for you to dig up information on her. It's like she's a character in a movie and not someone in our house. I don't know how to explain it but it makes me uncomfortable."

Jimin's heart melted. Taehyung's sensitive soul had a way of turning them all to mush. The beta slipped off the bed to wrap his arms around him. "Okay, alpha. No more digging, okay? Come back to bed. Don't be upset." Tae allowed himself to be pulled, always particularly sensitive to Jimin's coaxing. "Kookie won't do any more digging, right?" The maknae nodded. "Come back and let me cuddle you a little more, and then we can help Hobi get some breakfast going for her, okay?"

Taehyung followed Jimin back down into the nest with a pleased, boxy grin, wordlessly covering him with his body and nuzzling into his neck. While Jimin whispered sweet nothings into the youngest alpha's ear, the rest refocused their attention on Jungkook.

"Now, how did you end up in Y/N's nest?" Jin asked, appearing sterner than he ever was.

Jungkook blushed deeply. "I was an honest accident, hyung. I was just so tired and my feet carried me there. Jimin and Y/N were outside, so I didn't notice until she came back. Besides, it wasn't much of a nest. I usually sleep with more blankets than she had."

Hoseok frowned grumpily. He wondered if you would let him teach you. But it wasn't his most pressing issue in mind.

"What's wrong?" Jin asked, plucking a pouty lip.

Hobi turned to Jungkook once more. "I don't like that your first instinct is to go sleep in the other room." Jungkook opened his mouth to argue but Hobi wouldn't let him. "I know you have a long list of reasons why you do it, but I don't want to hear them. I don't care that you come home at 4 in the morning. You aren't bothering anyone. Do you think Jin and I sleep well knowing you're not here where you belong? I don't care if you come home smelling like the street and other people. I will make you smell like Jungkook again in no time. I'll make you smell like your pack. Unless you don't want your pack anymore. And if you're trying to pull away from us, then that's something we really need to talk about. Just be honest!"

A sad whine came from Jungkook's throat. Neither of them had expected those words to come out, though Hobi had been holding onto them for several weeks, only sharing them with Jin. "Hobi! I never want that. I never want to not be part of this pack. You're my home!" He whimpered, pulling the warm omega on top of him, forcing Yoongi to make way.

"Then act like it," Hobi mumbled into his chest.

"I will. I'll sleep here every night," he replied, holding his love close.

Hoseok smiled. At least that was one worry off the list.

A/n: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought in the comments and reblogs! They mean the world to me 💜

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[forfucksakesniall]

Heyy so if u don’t mind can u do where lewis and the reader are co-parenting their daughter :) <3<3<3

Don't mind at all. Hope you like this piece.

Aiyla - moonlight or moon glow

Long Way Down

You tried to work things out with Lewis, but they don't always go as planned. Despite having a plan and thinking things were going fine, you might have been in denial, and both of you took things for granted, resulting in nothing going the right way.

Now, you and Lewis co-parent your adorable 3-year-old daughter, Aiyla.

“Daddy, play outside… please,” Aiyla asks sweetly.

“I’m sorry, baby, but we can’t go outside today... Daddy just needs to do a little more work.”

Aiyla keeps her hands on the glass door of the terrace, admiring the view from inside.

She lets out a deep sigh, and it breaks Lewis' heart to see his daughter like this. He had an emergency meeting with the team to discuss some new upgrades they'll be working on, and it happened while Aiyla was staying with him.

His sweet, loving baby is waiting for him to let her play outside in the garden and with her little playhouse and slide. Lewis can't bear the thought of letting her be alone outside, so he makes her wait by the door with her big, cute, brown eyes, wishing she was on the slide or in the playhouse.

Aiyla goes to Lewis, who was at the table with his laptop and the team.

“Daddy, Mommy?”

He sees her on his lap, trying to reach up and sit with him. He lifts her onto his lap and lets her watch the meeting.

“Um.., Mommy went out for a little while, and she'll be back later.”

“Mommy and me, play please..”

Hearing that makes Lewis rethink the meeting. His baby thinks he wasn't giving her much attention and wants her mommy back.

Shit, he thinks to himself.

“Just a little more, baby… I promise,” he reassures her and kisses the top of her head.

You entered the house as quietly as possible to see how Lewis was dealing with your baby. Unsurprisingly, he was working on his laptop with your child on his lap, trying to have some "quality time" with her. You and Lewis had agreed to meet at your place instead of taking her to the playground to avoid unnecessary attention since your baby daddy was a prominent figure. You chose to keep it private for you and your daughter, despite lingering bitterness. Accepting that it had come to this was hard, and you couldn't help but feel responsible, though that's what you believed in.

You slowly approached them, and your daughter felt your presence, nearly jumping off Lewis' lap, startling him with sudden excitement. He sees you and noticed the disappointment in your eyes.

"I'll take her outside, so you can finish up," you told him as you took Aiyla off his lap and into your arms.

"Hello, my sweet, cute baby. I missed you," you kissed her cheek, and she giggled.

You opened the balcony sliding door, and she got excited, wiggling from your grip to run to the garden. You put her down, and she ran like the wind.

When you turned around, you saw Lewis looking at you with sad eyes, as if he knew he hadn't handled things well, but his life and career were at stake. It wasn't his fault; you put this on him, and now-

Aiyla started patting your leg, distracting you from Lewis, and you looked down at her.

"Daddy play?" she asked.

"I don't think he can-"

"I'll play with you, baby," Lewis said, suddenly right behind you, your faces inches away from each other. He put his hand on your back and kept his eyes on you.

"Can you wait for Mommy and Daddy? We're just gonna talk a little. Is that okay, princess?"

Aiyla let out an annoyed huff and left.

He turned you around, pulled you close, and put his hands on your waist.

"I know that look, (Y/N). It was all a coincidence; there was an emergency meeting, and-"

"Mick messaged me. He saw you were with Aiyla during the meet and then texted me," you interrupted, leading to an awkward silence.

"I know this isn't what we wanted-"

You looked at him, wondering what he meant by that.

"I didn't mean it like that... I meant us."

He took a deep breath. "I don't like it to be like this. I hate seeing you away from me. I hate that the distance between us keeps getting bigger. I want us to be like before."

"You know we can't be like before anymore. We have Aiyla now." you tell him.

"I know that, but I want us to try again and give... and give me another chance."

You pulled away and looked away from him.

Aiyla was looking at you from her playhouse.

"I don't know, Lewis... I need more time to think about it. I can't make a decision right now. I have Aiyla now. I can't be so careless about this."

"I get that, but please just let me try. I'll be better this time. I'll let you take your time, but (Y/N), I need an answer. You can't keep running away and avoiding me."

"I will..."

You kept your eyes on Aiyla and saw that she was getting sleepy playing house.

"You can put her to bed if you want and.. Stay till she falls asleep"

"Yea, I'd love that! Thank you."

Lewis came close to you to give you a kiss on the cheek, but you stepped backward.

"Sorry, Ummm... Small steps..." you smiled at him.

"Yea, that's... Yea."

[lazycats-stuff]

Hey, can I request Bruce x ex-villain reader, where Bruce needs some information/help so he goes to find the reader (who let Bruce find him) to negotiate. The reader isn't really that keen to go back to the whole action scene because he lives a real comfortablelife at some island or soemthing, but Bruce makes an offer the reader can't really say no to

Of course anon. Why do I feel like this would be me? Hm... Also, sorry this took so long.

Summary: Bruce offers something that (Y/N) can't offer for intel.

Warnings: nothing bad... Maybe some cursing.

Intel was something precious. Something that can be life and death in the vigilante world, especially if you are after terrorists or a bigger threat in the world to keep it safe. Of course, intel doesn't come without a price. Those who know things use that knowledge as a bartering chip in order to get what they want.

Bruce knew that all too well.

As of now, he needed intel. There was only a single problem in this case. (Y/N) (L/N). He is a former villain that has decided to retire to somewhere in the world. Where is that somewhere? Bruce didn't know. (Y/N) and Bruce had a respect-hate relationship. While the two really hated each other, but had a way to respect one another.

After their last fight, (Y/N) had dropped a bomb that he was retiring, saying that he was bored of being a villain. Bruce nearly had a heart attack when he heard that and was curious as to why. Why a sudden change of heart?

Either way, after that night, (Y/N) was gone. Bruce a little bit sad. It was very fun fighting with (Y/N), playing mind games, trying to rattle one another. And one think that Bruce loved about (Y/N) was the fact that he didn't go after his sons. In fact, he saved them a few times.

However, (Y/N) was still in loop when it came to intel. Bruce had a few theories as to why, but Bruce thought it was to stay safe and move if necessary. And more importantly, he was impossible to find. Bruce has tried, but couldn't fine him for the life of him.

It was frustrating and yet, impressive at the same time. Nobody has been able to hide from him that well and it wasn't funny at this point. And Bruce would leave (Y/N) alone. Would, but he needs intel and only (Y/N) has it. So... He had to find (Y/N) and do whatever it takes to get that intel.

And after weeks of searching, he found (Y/N). It was a private island, of course. Bruce got into his plane, suit and off he went. It was a long flight, but he had nothing but time to think about all of this. How does he approach this? He has to offer (Y/N) something in return for the intel.

Money? (Y/N) has a shit ton of it if he has his own private island in the middle of nowhere, in the ocean. Like... He has a big amount of money... Not money it seems. Maybe something...

Something he could bring back...

What was he going to bring to the table? Bruce chuckled to himself as I looked at the ocean underneath him. There is something else going on between (Y/N) and Bruce. They knew each others identities and there was something more than just being enemies. Before (Y/N) retired, the two started being more civil and...

There was something that Bruce couldn't pinpoint for the life of him. There was something that made Bruce feel truly alive, adrenaline coursing through his veins... Something electric. (Y/N) was also affected by it, but the two men would rather die than show it towards one another.

Maybe... He could on that. He could use that to get intel. But that will only work it (Y/N) shares the same feelings. Oh, if only he knew. Bruce landed on an empty piece of land, where (Y/N) was waiting already, in his swim shorts and a cigar in his mouth. He watched in silence as Bruce stepped out of his plane.

" You have been difficult to find. " Bruce said as he stepped out into the warm weather, taking his cowl off.

" For the record, I allowed you to find me and you know it Bruce. So, what brings you to my humble island? " (Y/N) asked before taking a long drag of his cigar, leading the way to his manor. Bruce followed, quickly walking alongside him.

" I think you know why I need help. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chuckled quietly as he let out the smoke of his cigar.

" You are right, I do know why. However, " (Y/N) said as he opened the door to his mansion. Bruce saw how there was so much natural light and thought how nice it is to have so much sunlight. You can be lucky if there is sun in Gotham city.

" So Bruce... What can you give me in exchange for the intel you need? " (Y/N) asked as he finished his cigar, moving to pour himself some whiskey.

" Something that I think you can't resist. " Bruce said coolly and smirked as (Y/N) raised his brow."

" And what would that be? "

" I know you didn't want to retire. I know you are itching to get out of it. And I know you are tired of being a villain. Maybe you can be a hero for a change... Maybe we can finally act on our feelings we tried to bury. "

Bruce watched (Y/N) intently. His breath hitched for a moment and he looked away for a moment.

" How in God's name did you know? "

" Maybe because I'm the world's greatest detective. " Bruce replied and (Y/N) huffed.

" Don't flatter yourself. " (Y/N) said with faux annoyance and Bruce stopped smirking.

" Is that the reason why you retired? To bury those feelings? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

" No... I was actually tired of being a bad guy. It's not as fun anymore."

Bruce chuckled at that. Of course.

" Really? "

" Yup. You blow up a few buildings here and there, mess with you... But it's not fun anymore. " (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders.

" Maybe we can work together. " Bruce suggested, leaning on the counter.

" Is that a way of getting into my pants? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce shook his head with a chuckle.

" No it's not. "

" You sure? You are a playboy after all. " (Y/N) said as he sipped his whiskey slowly.

" Not anymore. Haven't been in the game for a while. " Bruce shrugged his shoulders and (Y/N) chuckled quietly.

" If I chose to accept it, does it mean I would have to work with the Justice League? "

" Not if you don't want to. " Bruce answered softly and (Y/N) relaxed a little bit. He put the glass down, the sound resonating in the now quiet kitchen.

" Well, that is something I can't refuse... You really caught me off guard. " (Y/N) said laughing, leaning on the counter of his kitchen.

" Does this mean I get my intel too? " Bruce chuckled and (Y/N) nodded.

" I guess so. "

" So when can I expect you in Gotham? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) tilted his head in thought.

" Next week. I need to make a few arrangements and then I'll come. "

Bruce nodded and watched (Y/N) with a small smile. " Can I kiss you?" Bruce asked him and (Y/N) nodded, moving closer to Bruce.

Bruce gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before pulling back with a smile. " See you in a week (Y/N). "

(Y/N) chuckled, pouring himself more whiskey. " See you in a week. "

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Finally watched Caped Crusader and I have ✨thoughts✨.

Oswalda is straight up iconic. Loved every scene with her. I actually laughed out loud when the dude goes "Thorne got you to kill the wrong son?" and she responds "Not that!" I'd let her lock me in a suitcase and throw me in the sea. She gets a gold star ⭐

I like that we get to see Selina's origin. I like the classic suit. That's kinda it though. A bit sad that Bruce didn't feel any connection with her. Just not a huge fan of her character here. She doesn't feel like Selina (a problem most of this show faces tbh).

I was loving the Harley stuff. The bit with Renee was so cute, and I love that she really was passionate about helping Bruce move past his trauma. I really like that she's Barbara's friend. Was really upset at the fakeout death but at least she was just joshin. The villain stuff felt like fetishes which like okay. I guess Bruce needed to put in something to replace BruceBabs. Anyway, that's the final dig towards him. As much as this Harley episode wasn't my favorite, a promise is a promise. Although I do gotta ask, WHY CAN'T RENEE CATCH A BREAK IN HER LOVE LIFE >:(((

No fucking way the moral of episode 7 was "the system is totally not screwed, it's just a few bad apples and also a criminal is a criminal and should be jailed". Barbara literally says the system sucks cause the cops can do what they want and get in anyone's pockets and then nearly gets killed by a cop and then they end it with "actually, I think you do"?! I mean yeah that specific guy deserved prison but ending it on that note of Barbara feeling betrayed and confused on her morals tells a very not-so-delightful message. Glad the show backtracks on all that immediately but it's still weird and definitely could've used some revising to fit in with the rest.

Onomatopeia was awesome though. I remember people claiming his shtick couldn't work when he appeared in Superman and Lois. They said that it only worked in comics and would be too silly out loud. Happy to report that they're wrong.

I feel like I'm the only one who was excited to see Waylon but that's okay cause I got enough excitement for everyone. Love to see my mans kicking the shit out of potential perverts. You go, Waylon!

Dick, Jason, Steph, and Carrie. Definitely an interesting combination. But it's also so nice to see a Jason who grew up in a different environment and is therefore adorable with no rage in his heart. As opposed to Carrie who was ready to kick some ass. The ending to episode 8 really understood Batman, what with him saying he can't leave her there, carrying her and shielding her under the cape, and then asking about her later.

The Harvey bit is kinda cool but 1, I've always been iffy on the shotty DID stuff and 2, I think they coulda gone further. Just watch The Long Halloween for a better Two Face plot.

I like Harvey helping that guy get his stuffed animal back. That was a nice small character moment. If we had more stuff like that and Bruce being unable to confess his emotions to Alfred, I think this whole thing would be better. This one made up for episode 7's little message by having Barbara tell Harvey that it's not so cut and dry and that he deserves help too. I'm glad they went back to that after the whole "sometimes things are black and white" bit. Batman is about helping people just as much as Superman is and I feel like sending a message that "nope, bad is bad and he should just punch people" doesn't fit the entire thesis of Batman.

This finale really encapsulates how this show doesn't quite understand the character of Batman. It may be comic-accurate for him to be an asshole and put on the voice randomly, treat Alfred like crap, and randomly break character with stuff like "don't start growing a conscience now, Dent" but as I said it goes against the whole thesis. This is more along the lines of the Nolan films with the "Bruce Wayne is the mask" bit. And we all know how I feel about those films.

And then it ends on a boring cliffhanger with the boss guy and then a shitty Joker teaser. Boo.

In short, this show is good but it's not anything special. I do really like the classic Batman aesthetic, but that's pretty much it. It doesn't really understand the characters like MAWS and WFA, the overarching plot is kind of uninteresting and it doesn't feel like we're building up to something great. I feel like this show really wanted to use the episodic style to take a look at all these different elements of Gotham's world with references to existing characters and aspects. But whereas MAWS smoothly slid those into its narrative and setting, this just kinda feels like a villain of the week show instead of working towards this grand narrative. And that can be a good thing, I mean I'm a Scooby Doo fan for crying out loud, but in this scenario, it just doesn't work that exceptionally. If it gets a season 2, I'll probably watch it. But this isn't something I'd be excitedly waiting to see new episodes of.

[nectardaddy]

'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke

chapter seven | stupid

masterlist

no smau parts in this one, she's long

track seven . . . tourniquet

cw/notes: hurt/comfort (it's zach bryan's fault blame him), shit gets real country too oof, excuse me while I write a self indulgent blurb of how a father should be :'), nostalgic feelings, I proofread to the best of my ability

a very, very, very special shout out: thank you @mollyrolls @causenessus @froyaoya for listening to me talk about this WAY too much and letting me bother tf out of you guys over it. not to get sappy on main but genuinely thank you for all the comments, tags, and loving it as much as I do!!! I am forever in your favor for this

"Because you're important to me." "You're just saying that, Shinsuke. There's nothing important about me at all." "Everything about you is important to me."

Three days ago - without a word since.

The woman sighed as she looked in the mirror, smudged with finger prints and specks of dust. Taking in her reflection with blurry eyes; the image of a woman with black and blue staining her right eye staring back at her. Swelling gone down from a bag of frozen peas, god forbid they had a real ice pack, still left on the kitchen table and forgotten about entirely.

It was stupid. A worker started something, she finished it. They swung first, though being thoroughly provoked, and she ended it. Winding herself up so tight from the conversation days prior, she found herself more standoffish than normal. Constantly thinking about it, never a waking moment without the words "you're important to me" haunting her. Racking her brain so much as to why he stopped talking to her since, her head hurt from the thoughts that pounded her skull.

So, it truly wasn't her fault the skin of her knuckles were bruised and busted, and her eye tender and discolored. It was his - goddamn Kita Shinsuke. At least that's what she told herself, shifting blame because it felt better. Because it ate her alive every glance he still gave her, despite his lack of words; always locking eyes for a fraction a second before he broke it with a nervous air about him.

Anger was easier to swallow than dejection. It was hot and fluid, boiling through shallow veins easily and bubbling over; while sadness was the lack there of, uncomfortable, and made her stomach turn. She'd rather feel the singe of rage than the emptiness of sorrow.

A door slam caught her attention, gaze snapping towards the sound; thoughts ceased as she watched the figure of her father near the bathroom door. Propping herself up by her hands on the sink, she closed her eyes and sighed once more; expecting the inevitable scolding.

"Did they deserve it?" An unexpected question that made her reopen her eyes, seeing him in the doorway with a ghost of a frown.

"Yeah."

"Did you win?"

"Of course I did."

There was a pause. A length that lingered a bit too long, hearing the sink faucet drip water into the old porcelain, until he let out a sigh. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his work jacket, he turned. Stepping away from the bathroom door and into the small hallway; she followed.

"You gonna' tell me what's going on? Or are you gonna' keep skulking around here with a stick up your ass?"

"Rude," rolling her eyes at his words. "Nothing's goin' on." She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to guard herself, to keep the thoughts that wanted to flow out of her locked deep within. Unfortunately for her, he saw right through it. A bad habit of picking up more twang in her words when she lied, always becoming defensive to the point her accent was the focal point of discussion.

"You never were a good liar," he nearly chuckled at the woman in front of him. "You sound like a hick." He added, "so are you gonna' fess up? Or keep pickin' fights with workers?"

"They had it coming." A snarkiness shining through as she huffed out a breath; moving past him in the hallway as to further herself from the conversation. "And pickin' fights sounds pretty fun to me, honestly."

"Yeah? Well it ain't fun seeing my daughter with a black eye." His comment made her falter, stopping mid step just before the quant living area. Another sigh left her lips. It wasn't as if she didn't want to tell her father, it was bringing up the sickly feelings that came along with it. Admitting that it hurt, caused an emptiness, and made her ill to think about it.

"It's stupid."

"It ain't stupid if it has you out here raising hell."

Another pause, and feeling her father's worry made her want to wretch. To heave and slink right back into her skin; feeling all the more worse that she caused him panic in the slightest. She turned back to look at him a moment - she frowned, crumbling right there on the spot. Maybe it was her father's eyes swimming with concern, or maybe she just couldn't keep it in anymore. Which ever it was, she felt her heart fall to the pits of her stomach and she swallowed hard to fight the lump in her throat.

"Shinsuke said I was important to him and now he won't talk to me anymore, dad," voice cracking as she took a step towards him. She watched as his features fell through blurry eyes, and for a moment she believed she said the wrong thing. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stood in front of him; he sighed.

"C'mere," holding out his arms to which she wholeheartedly obliged. Hugging him like her life depended on it - crying. Haven't shed a single tear in years, refusing to feel such hollow and empty emotions, it poured out of her. Shaking, clinging to her father, as she finally let her emotions swallow her completely.

"I'm in love with him. And I feel so fucking stupid because he doesn't even love me back; he won't even speak to me."

"I remember when he first got here," conflicting the tone of the conversation all together. "I never in my life thought you'd fall for someone so quiet." A seemingly random thought, but he continued all the same. "But then I saw how he looked at you and I realized why you liked him so much."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Maybe you don't see it, through that black eye and angst you have goin' on, but that boy is in love with you."

"He's not in love with me."

He pulled away from the woman slowly, looking in her eyes with a care that was meant for only her, but a seriousness that was as deadly as a heart attack. Holding her gently by her shoulders, he gave her a sad smile. "I don't like arguin' with you, you give me hell for it every time. But you're wrong."

She stood there a moment, looking at her father through foggy eyes. Features wet and tear stained, a numbing pain singing the right side of her face; irritating her bruised eye further. "Well, if you're so smart, why isn't he talkin' to me?"

He saw the puzzled expression on her face and couldn't help but laugh. "Because men are stupid." A statement he told her often, one she always laughed about, but held onto like a lifeline now. After every fight, every argument, and every failed past relationship; always telling her 'men are stupid. Don't let their stupidity stop you from doing shit.'

"So what should I do about it?" Breath stopped in her throat at the thought of the man actually being in love with her. A sickly sensation swirling in her stomach that didn't feel like the cliché butterflies, it felt like spiders. The feeling slowly caught up to her as her tears leisurely stopped. Eating away at her until she caught herself being frustrated all over again.

"Don't let it stop you from doing shit," he chuckled. "Tell him to stop being stupid."

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