bearprofessorr

[bearprofessorr]

when the tide comes.

a helly pov fic, set at the end of 2x04.

ship: helly r./mark s. tags/warnings: (mild) description of drowning, extended scene, hurt/comfort. word count: 1.1k

read it on ao3! <3

[bearprofessorr]

chasing the stars, part 3.

distance makes the heart grow fonder, as they say.

ship: bfd!declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: slow burn, mentions of violence, drunk declan, no y/n. word count: 2.6k

find the previous parts here!

a/n: okok the slow burn is slow burning - howeverr that may not last for long, even i'm getting impatient and i'm the one writing the damn thing (anyone else get that?). some time skips happen here and there and will continue to just to get to the good stuff ;) enjoyyyy <3

You crossed paths in the morning, as you were helping Taggie clear up the remnants of your sleepover in the living room. Declan poked his head through, bidding both of you a good morning. It was clear enough he hadn't quite woken up yet - his hair was messy, only combed back with his hand, with a mug of coffee in his grip. Apart from that, you didn't speak, with you having to go back to your flat to sort some things out before your shift started that afternoon.

Your work, unfortunately, needed an extra hand around the place on Friday - so you ended up so busy you had to miss your arranged Friday night plans with Taggie to busy yourself around the place because someone had gotten sick the night before.

However, the plus side to all of this was, during the week - even if you weren't seeing Taggie until Friday; according to Corinium's scheduling for the week, Declan was supposed to be co-hosting a pageant show with two other equally random guests. You thought for a moment about how much he likely disputed it, considering their last conversation was about the inner beauty of a woman, you reckoned that judging purely on looks was the last thing on his agenda. Regardless, it would be funny to see the panel of men blush and try to be modest for a few hours - and the whole thing was live, for that extra buzz of excitement.

The rest of your week was pointedly uneventful, filled with menial shifts and occasional late night calls with Taggie, where she would regale the long stories of bumping into Rupert in town while she was getting groceries or seeing him walk across the street from the parking lot to a shop of any kind. It was sweet, to hear about her romances, and how she was managing to hide all of it from her father - who still seemed apprehensive about Rupert from her point of view. You told her every time that Declan was just being protective of his oldest daughter, and if anything were to happen, he would just have to suck it up. That usually calmed her down, made her laugh instead of worry, and every time she would apologise for going on about him.

"Really, it's terrible, I'm always talking about him and I never hear a word about anyone from you." Taggie chastised you playfully, being self-deprecating in the process, "Is there not one guy at all that you're crushing on?"

There is. Very unfortunately for you, there is. The one man that you can never have, unless you wanted to risk losing Taggie forever, so you lied instead. "There isn't, all the guys at work are so unimaginative it's almost cruel to think about how they live. They all just sit around and do the bare minimum - I can't imagine how they'd be in a relationship."

"It's true," Taggie conceded, "All the boys our age still haven't grown up at all - it's like they're all still in school."

"And that's why you're going for Rupert?" You teased, hearing the groan of your best friend from the other side of the phone, laughing between your words as your continued to speak, "Since the only people who can treat you right are big, manly, men."

"Hey-" Taggie tried to refute, but was unsuccessful, "That's not true."

"Right fine, Sebastian can be the exception, but… when was the last time he took you out?"

"Don't make me feel even worse-" Taggie groaned.

"I'm sorry, Tag, but it's true," You said between a laugh, "You can't say I'm wrong when he's proving me right!"

"I know." She frowned, which came through in her voice. Taggie went to say something, but some muffled voices in the background stopped her, "Sorry, sweetheart, I'll see you Friday!"

This was how their calls often ended, abrupt - but you knew they'd pick up where they left off when you saw each other next. Luckily for you, you had something to occupy your evening on the Corinium network.

What you saw, frankly, was not entirely appalling. Declan was drunk - that much was clear from how different he looked compared to his show persona, and the fact you had dealt with a drunken Declan before. He looked relaxed, more himself, and still just as ruggedly handsome as you had grown to adore. Somehow, he had even less of a filter than normal, which led to him decking the Reverend in a sudden rage that ended the broadcast prematurely.

It wasn't quite instant, and you could hear the vague mumblings of anger from Declan - in his signature Irish accent - with the mild protestations from the Reverend before the feed cut out. Frankly there was nothing the old man could do to stop Declan, as much as he wasn't known in the news for his physique, you had seen - albeit accidentally - that he kept himself in shape. It was almost shocking the first time, but it wasn't repulsive, it had quite the opposite effect.

As soon as you stopped gawking at the TV, you tried to call Taggie at the Priory - unfortunately you couldn't get through, the line was busy. Either Taggie was trying to get a hold of Declan or Rupert - who you did see in the audience cutaways sitting by Freddie Jones. It didn't take much to put together that Thing 1 and Thing 2 were responsible for Declan's inebriated state. You tried your best not to think about it and get on with your evening chores before bed. You tried your best to not think on Declan most days - despite how much your mind gravitated toward him in your quieter moments.

What you didn't expect, though, was the knock on your door 10 minutes later. You opened it to a sorry sight of Taggie O'Hara, visibly exhausted as she nearly flopped into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug.

"I hope it's alright that I'm here," Taggie sounded like she was on the verge of tears, immediately trying to apologise as if she was some random person burdening a stranger, "I'm so sorry to spring this on you."

"It's no worry at all, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, you know that." You tried to reassure her as much as you could, but it was hard to do that with Taggie sometimes. The thing you had picked up on during their friendship was that Taggie had to sit with her emotions for a while before she could start dealing with them and moving forward, but it worked for her - even if you didn't completely understand sometimes.

"Did you watch the live show?" Taggie pulled away to look into your eyes, as you reluctantly nodded - your face sympathetic. Taggie's frown deepened at that, before burying it back into your embrace.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Your comforted, voice even and calm.

"Please."

"Come on in, Tag, I've got leftovers if you're hungry."

Taggie perked up after that, appreciating the warm normalcy she always had with you, shrugging off her coat in a familiar ritual along with her shoes, delicately placed alongside yours - with spaces left on each rack for them both.

The night was calm, which was exactly what Taggie needed before she went home to deal with whatever wreckage Declan had left behind him, if he even made it back to The Priory. Taggie said she would find out whatever she could, for her own sake and for yours, but she'd do that tomorrow morning, after a proper nights sleep.

It was a quick goodbye in the morning, with you rushing off to your shift, leaving Taggie behind to go home when she was ready - she had a spare key to lock up behind her anyways. She promised that she'd try and get her father in at least a decent state when she came over on Friday, but you reassured that you'd seen Declan drunk before - and knew how to deal with it.

"I'll call you after my shift, alright Tag?" You called out, propping the front door open with your foot, shrugging your work bag onto your shoulder. Only after you heard some kind of noise from Taggie did you truly say goodbye and let the door close behind you.

When you did phone the Priory, it wasn't Taggie that picked up, but her mother. You had met Maud earlier in the year, so recognised her Irish lilt on the other side of the phone.

"Who is it?" She sounded completely done already, tired and half-ready to hang up.

"Oh, sorry! Is Taggie there?" Your surprise came across in your voice, which probably didn't help with Maud's mood.

"I'll get her, she won't be long." Maud responded with an audible huff, before you heard the muffled 'Taggie! Phone!' being called out into the house, then the thud of the phone receiver being left on the dresser as footsteps trailed off into the house to do anything else but stand and wait at the phone.

A few minutes of dead air passed, and you got worried that Taggie wasn't going to come to the phone before you heard her, very out of breath, "My knight in shining armour! Sorry, I've been trying to stop everyone from ripping each other's throats out."

"I can imagine, it's almost like I can feel the tension through the phone." You joked, trying your best to lighten the mood, and the gentle laughter of your friend on the other side made your shoulders lift. "Are you doing okay? I can call later if you're busy."

"No, no, anything but that." Taggie pleaded, "I'm free as a bird, please, tell me about your day."

She needed distraction under stress - like her father - and you were more than happy to oblige and ramble on about the menial work you undertook. It was nice to talk to Taggie about anything, she was always such an active listener, asking questions and vocalising her opinions as the story progressed.

Halfway through one story, though, a voice came through in the background - quickly followed by another, neither of which were Taggie's. "Sorry, one second." Taggie's voice rang clear compared to the others' as she turned around and tried to calm down whatever was bubbling between them - that meant it was Declan and Maud, since as far as you were aware, Patrick and Caitlin were still at school.

"Who's on the phone?" You could barely make out the words, but it was distinctly Declan's voice.

Taggie filled Declan in on who was on the other side, finishing her sentence with, "We're just catching up - won't be long." Taggie's voice was as chipper as ever, calmer than the stressful version you heard when Tag first picked up the phone.

"Oh - what a lovely surprise!" Declan, audibly drunk Declan, spoke again, "Mind if I say hello?"

You could almost hear Maud roll her eyes as she added into the conversation, "When did you two get so friendly?"

"Mum!" Taggie immediately hit back, "She comes around here a lot, now, so obviously they know each other."

"That's not-" Maud tried to butt in again, but gave up, "Just give him the phone, would you?"

The exchanging of hands was a little flimsy, with hands running static over the receiver as it passed between them. It took a moment of silence before you heard Declan speak, clearer this time, "Hello love, are you alright?"

"Mhm, you sound like you've seen better days." You joked, trying to think of a segue to talk about what happened, but went with the clearest choice, "I saw the broadcast."

"That fucker deserved it. I won't tell you the details to spare the girl, but he's despicable and I stand by what I did." His tone shifted immediately, and it was obvious that the Reverend struck a nerve in Declan. The words sounded practiced, as if he had been continuously justifying his actions to anyone that asked.

"I never said I disagreed, I'm saying I saw." You kept your voice light, trying not to fall into the deep pits of negatives that your conversations seemed to steer to. "I'm sure whatever you did, you thought it was necessary. I'm just glad you're okay." 'I'm just glad you didn't end up with a charge.' went unsaid.

Declan grumbled on the other side of the phone as the anger rose and subsided in his system. His voice was softer as he spoke again, "Sorry, love. It's been a long couple of days."

"I can only imagine."

"You sound tired." His voice switched to concern, and you could almost see the furrow of his eyebrows over the phone, like he always did whenever he checked in on you or Taggie. "Are you still coming round on Friday, for your thing with Tag?"

On the other side of the phone, that you didn't see as Declan spoke to you, was the scrunched faces of Maud and Taggie, looking to each other for context and finding nothing but confusion mirrored back at them. Taggie was leaning back on the nearest pillar, arms crossed as she listened to Declan's side of the conversation, and was able to look at him while he spoke to you. It was nothing like when he had seen them speak before - and part of her wondered if there was something else happening. Quickly as it came, she dismissed the thought, knowing that if anything did happen she wouldn't be second-guessing it. She hoped she would be able to tell that something was up with you, or that her best friend would tell her just like she did to you about Rupert. Anyways, imagining her father getting closer to you was weird, and Taggie didn't want to admit where her mind went when she thought about your relationship developing.

Maud, on the other hand, knew Declan's softer side well, and as soon as she cottoned onto the shift in his demeanour, turned on her heel and marched off into the house. Declan didn't so much as hesitate when she did.

The chatter continued on, mindless questions back and forth before you excused yourself to clean up after your shift - you quite literally dropped your bag at the door and rushed to the phone to talk to Taggie - so Declan handed the phone back over so the two of you could finish up. After, he followed in the direction of his wife - to try and handle whatever caused her to storm off.

"Ah, hey Taggie, didn't think that would take so long, sorry." You apologised, "He's a real chatterbox, you know."

"Not always, but I don't think the drink helped." Taggie didn't hesitate to fall back into familiar rhythms, "Was there anything else you wanted to say?"

"No, nothing major. Yourself?"

"Not that can't wait until Friday."

You nodded along, forgetting for a moment Taggie couldn't actually see you, before vocalising the thought with a, "Good, I'll be there early so we have time to catch up."

"Great! I might not be there when you get here if it's before 6, I'm meeting with Lizzie to discuss some catering work, but Dad'll let you in."

"See you then, Tag!" Your smile came through in your words, proud of your best friend's successes.

And, if everything went as Taggie promised, all would be revealed on Friday.

[bearprofessorr]

chasing the stars, part 2.

seeking each other out once is a coincidence, twice is a choice.

ship: bfd!declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: slow burn, very tiny Declan POV, reader smoking, references to cheating, no y/n. word count: 2.3k

Part 1 here! / Part 3 here!

a/n: so. i did in fact speak some famous last words - i forgot that uni exists again and got distracted with life stuff, sorry y'all!! Still writing p3, it's at 1.6k and I'm nowhere near done so... yay? enjoy :)

Taggie, as ever, had made a beautiful meal, with your occasional assistance and constant motivation to combat her self-doubt. And as the evening wound down, now that Caitlin and Patrick had been back at their respective institutions and Maud was back and forth between London and the Cotswolds - mostly in London as of recent - the house was quiet most of the time - even more so if Taggie was out for the night either at your or on the town. Declan was appreciative for the noise, even if the loud pop music and over the top singing sometimes woke him up in the early hours of the morning, he preferred it over the eerie silence that lingered in the creaky house when it was just him.

The girls were set up in the living room, with lamps and candles being the only light setting the atmosphere around them with some rerun of an old film playing from the TV - but the light chatter and laughter overtop made it clear they were barely watching it. As Declan walked past the archway to the living room, he noted at least 2 empty bottles on the table, and one half-full. He was glad Taggie had someone to confide in, and even more glad that it was someone as truly wonderful as you. Regardless of any pull he felt toward you, his priority was always to put his daughter's happiness over his own - even if at times he let that fall to the wayside in pursuit of grander things. Now that he was making plans to leave Corinium - if Tony would just let him - he hoped that it would help him prioritise keeping those he loved happy. Even if that happiness meant letting them go.

Taggie ended up falling asleep on the sofa adjacent to yours, the wine making her blink out as soon as she brought her blanket around her shoulders. You, however, were wide awake. The film had long since ended, and you didn't want to risk changing the channel and waking her up. So, as quietly as you could, you rummaged around in your bag for your tobacco and papers before darting around to the kitchen so you could turn on the light. The process of rolling was therapeutic - even if Taggie chastised you for the habit, it was one you had gained at the bright age of 15 from your sister and never looked back.

Just as you approached the main door to sit outside on the stairs, a familiar voice chirped up from behind you, surprise in his tone, "You smoke?"

You looked over your shoulder to see Declan, still dressed in his suit, minus the tie, unbuttoned to the chest. He plucked a cigarette from the packet in his pocket, letting it hang between his lips as he walked toward you. "It's fine, you can smoke in here, there's no need to go outside."

"I know, I just prefer it. It's a nice night out - no clouds so I reckon you could see the stars pretty clearly." You smiled, turning the handle and stepping out, leaving the door open behind you in case he chose to follow. He did, stepping out into the chill air beside you, the flick of his lighter the only sound between the pair as he lit his, before offering the flame to you. The silent communication between smokers was a language you knew well, leaning over with the cigarette between your lips, and Declan brought up his hand to cup in the direction of the wind, shielding it.

The night was as beautiful as you thought, the treeline being a lovely backdrop to the sky above, with stars twinkling in the clear night sky. You settled yourself on the step of the house, tucking your knees to your chest and pulling your cardigan closer to yourself as a breeze blew past them both. You broke the silence, as you had a habit of doing, "Can't sleep?"

"I don't fall asleep until the early hours most nights now without some help." Declan admitted, blowing out a breath of smoke. "Yourself?"

"Me neither." You agreed, "Self-inflicted, but for the most part there's nothing I need to be up for, if you understand me."

Declan hummed in agreement, letting the conversation drop off. Together, you sat in comfortable silence until you'd finished your respective cigarettes. You continued to sit, after flicking the end over to a pre-existing pile. "You don't need to stay out here just because I am."

"I know."

"It's cold, aren't you cold?"

"No, not really." He paused, a secondary layer of questioning under his next words, "Do you want to be alone?"

That was a question you had been pondering while you smoked, ever since you bumped into Declan before. The wine was clouding your judgement slightly, aiding to your honesty.

"No, I don't think so."

"Then I'll stay."

"Okay then."

Silence, again.

Then you asked a simple question, but a complicated one at the same time, "What you said earlier, how long have you felt like that?"

Declan knew immediately what you were talking about, and instinctively bit the inside of his lip. He reckoned he didn't know exactly when his opinion changed, he just knew when he stopped being so optimistic about it all. Maud, who was still legally his wife, didn't feel like a partner much these days. They lived such separate lives, he had no idea what she was doing day to day - just as she knew nothing of his life now.

"A while." He nodded, tired eyes looking out to the treeline. "It's a weird journey, it's not like there was one day I woke up and decided I couldn't keep going, I came to the realisation that it wasn't going to help anymore a few months ago."

"After she cheated?"

"After she cheated again." Declan corrected. "Then as soon as she came here, Rupert was all over her - and vice versa - and I think I knew it was never going to stop, even so far from the city. I don't want to have to move again just to stop all that."

"I get it." You agreed, leaning your head back to rest against the wall. "I stayed with my ex, after he cheated, thought he could change. He didn't, and I was naïve to think that he would." The memories still stung even though it had been months since you had broke things off, but the wine wasn't helping in that regard. "Not that you are- marriage is a different ball game entirely."

"Is it, though?" Declan sat down beside you, resting his elbows on his knees. "I thought she could change. She told me she could - that she had. I still love her, even though she cheated, and it stings."

"That's for you to decide, and by the sounds of it, you have." You tried to sound reassuring, but by the drop of Declan's smile across from you, it might not have been so helpful. You adjusted yourself to be able to look at him properly instead of just glancing over every so often. "It's not over, if that's what you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't run out of time to find someone else." You suggested, "I know it's still very raw, but rebounds are a real thing for a reason."

"I haven't even talked to her about it-"

"That doesn't mean shit and you know it." You let yourself speak freely, knowing partially the spirals you threw yourself in when you were in Declan's position. "She threw the relationship away as soon as she made the choice to sleep with someone else."

"Hey-"

"I'm sorry." You backtracked, seeing the same signs as your conversation earlier start to rise onto Declan's features, "I'll leave you be, sorry." You reiterated, going to stand, but Declan - like before - reached for you without words, asking you to stay for his sake over yours.

"It's alright, love." The nickname brought a smile to your lips, which was mirrored on Declan's as you sat back down outside. "I've felt the anger as well as all the moping."

"I know it's to be no better than them," You postured, to no one in particular, "but I considered cheating back just to know what all the fuss is about - is there something so exhilarating about it that makes it all make sense?" You bit at the skin on your lip, which as soon as you caught it, brushed your hand over it to try stop the habit, "I don't know. It was months ago but I'm still stuck on the 'why?' did he just not love me anymore? Was there some secret thing he didn't want to ask me to do so looked elsewhere to have that need satiated? It's stupid to think about it now, there's no way I'll ever get an answer from him-"

"It makes sense, though, doesn't it? To try and logically approach it…" Declan chimed in, evidently having done some similar thinking in his own time, "but, if my understanding of it is correct, it isn't based in logic - it's not a mastermind villain thing, it's out of desperation, not wanting to admit something to your partner so you fill it with someone else. Most of the time, from what I talked to Maud about, she didn't know how to talk to me about something, but felt more comfortable bringing it up with someone she had less ties to."

He pulled out another cigarette, offering the box to you, who took it with a smile, placing it between your fingers and reaching across for him to light it. You had a lighter, it was just easier to have Declan do it, at least that was how you rationalised it. You took a puff of it before responding with, "Very wise, more grounded than my approach, that's for certain."

"Wisdom comes with age, sometimes."

"It comes with experience, if you're shut off from the world, you can't exactly ponder on the nature of things you have no knowledge of."

"That's why I said sometimes." Declan added with a chuckle, lighting his own cigarette.

A thought came to you , one that was purely born from curiosity and nothing to do with your conversation in any substantial way, so you proposed, "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask, I might not answer, though."

"Fair play." You took a moment to phrase the question in your head, looking at him to gauge his immediate reaction to your words, "If you were unspoken for, to put it nicely, what kind of woman would you go for?"

His eyebrows raised, his hand pausing on it's journey to put his cigarette up to his lips, instead falling to rest his forearm on his leg. His eyes broke from yours, looking to the gravel under his feet. He tapped the end of his cigarette, the ashes blowing away in the wind. "I'm not that picky, I'd say. Ideally, she'd be intelligent - at least to the point I can actually talk to her about the world."

Your mind flashed with memories of drunken philosophical talks and rants you've overheard over the months that you've known the O'Haras. Him and Taggie have had it out over life ideologies, with his daughter often taking the more optimistic approach and him the 'realist' outlook. It makes sense he would want someone he can stand toe to toe with in intellectual debate.

He pondered the question further, before continuing, "I'd want her to be passionate about her own hobbies, you know? I can't stand those wives who spend their days loitering around - it seems lifeless." His lips formed a scowl, a memory coming to the forefront of his mind transitioning it to a fond smile for a moment, "Maud, she used to be as busy as I was, and I loved her for it - she was always happier when she had a project. Then, as the years passed, she got placated by the repeat roles. Then it started to set in, the boredom, but by that point she lost the motivation to go to open calls and she just lounged around, trying to host parties to fill that social urge." He took a long breath out, "I can't do that anymore."

"I get it - I mean not exactly but I understand. Seeing your partner succeed and supporting them in that makes you realise why you fell in love with them all over again."

"Of course - it's a fluid thing," He agreed, a smile forming, "I hope, if things go the way I expect, that I could fall in love again."

"I said before, but there's no age limit to it. Taking that risk is timeless."

"Risk?"

"It is a risk - in my opinion - to fall in love with someone, especially if you don't know if they feel the same way. Even if you aren't in love, to put your heart out there takes courage." You blew out a cloud of smoke, "At least that's how it feels."

Declan hummed in recognition, "Of course." Something stirred in his chest, the process of moving on already having started. It was hard to think of a future so unfamiliar to what he's known, but it wasn't as daunting a concept as it had been a month ago. There were kind people, behind all of the rich folk who populated the valley, in the most unexpected places.

You shivered in the cold, the wine wearing off enough to catch a chill. You finished the rest of your cigarette, putting it out on the stone of the stair. "I'm going to head back inside, if that's alright?"

He looked up at you as you stood, bidding you farewell with a nod as he looked ahead to finish his second cigarette. "Goodnight, love. I might see you in the morning if you're still around."

"Goodnight, Declan."

[bearprofessorr]

chasing the stars.

being kind costs nothing, but earns you so much more than you could ever imagine.

ship: bfd!declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: slow burn, alcohol mentions, panic attacks, fluff/comfort, no y/n. word count: 2.5k.

part 2 here! a/n: i've already written p2 and i'm just saying it is way slower development wise than i'm used to writing - however, it'll get there i promise <333. I'll edit it and get it up probably when im part way through p3 just to keep the flow of posts decently consistent (famous last words). enjoy <3

---

Declan was, as ever, stressed as fuck when he came back from work - barely stopping for a quick 'hello' before heading into his office and slamming the door shut behind him. You, as had become habit on a Friday night, were two glasses of white wine deep, cooking some new recipe with Taggie in the kitchen as a new years resolution the pair of you had made to broaden your taste palettes. Taggie was busy being a perfectionist measuring out the dough into the tray, and you - with no real intention one way or another - took the chance to peek your head around to check in on your best friend's dad. You disappeared from the kitchen with a quick, "Be right back, Tag." that was quietly acknowledged before she went back to adjusting the balls of dough. You lingered outside of the door, hearing the frustrated mutterings of the Corinium show host, hesitating before knocking lightly on the hardwood. The mutterings paused, and you heard the scratch of wood against wood, then heavy footfall until the door clicked open. Declan, expecting it to be his daughter, started to speak as the door opened, "Tag, look I'm - oh-" He paused, gathering himself in a fraction of a second, "Hey love, are you alright?" His voice softened from the slightly accusative tone he started with, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to read your neutral expression.

"Yeah no, I'm okay." You started, with Declan nodding along with a tired expression in his gaze. Your eyes dropped from his as you admitted, "I was actually coming to check in on you."

"There's no need for that, love." The nickname slipped so easily as he spoke to you, and you gathered he had no idea how close you held the endearment to your heart. "I'm alright, but thank you."

He stepped back from the doorway, going to close the door, and in a moment of confidence, you pressed your hand against it to stop the movement. "Are you sure? You don't look fine, if I must say, Mr. O'Hara."

Declan took a deep breath in at that, he had been caught, it seemed. He clicked his tongue before conceding, stepping back again to open the door of his office to you. "If you insist, I'll regale my troubles."

"Oh, I insist, I wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing what ails your soul." You joked as you walked into his office - the one place in the house that was wholly Declan. His books adorned the grand bookshelves on each wall, his work was stacked into haphazard but organised looking piles with sticky notes plastered over them, the whole room was quintessentially him. Even the scents of whiskey and lingering smoke made the room more like his. You almost felt like the room would start to push you out, with your flour covered skirt and light perfume made of peonies and vanilla acting like a magnet to repulse you from the space. Except, it drew you in, the one place in your best friend's house that it made sense you never spent any time in - apart from the obvious personal bedrooms of the house's other inhabitants.

"Make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while." He smiled to himself, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly with the mere concept of someone to share the burden with. Someone who he had never really spoken to in much depth - not counting the drunken talk of philosophy that he often fell into with whoever would listen. The door clicked shut behind him, walking past your to sit behind his desk, where he was already part way through a glass of whiskey - which if Taggie knew she would chastise him for, but she wasn't here.

"So, what's got you in more of a huff than usual?"

"What do you know about what's usual for me?"

"If I hadn't heard all of it from Taggie when I haven't been here, the past 3 weeks that I have been here when you come back from Corinium you've been in varying states of joy or outright despair." You shot back, which Declan silently responded with his tongue running along the the backs of his teeth, "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

"No, no, heard you loud and clear." Declan put a hand up in mock defeat, "I don't know how much has gotten to you about Tony Baddingham, but he was being even more of an arsehole than usual." He spat his bosses name out like it was rotten, even with the conversational tone of his words, "Gave the Thatcher interview to Veriker."

"James Veriker? The daytime show guy?" Your jaw dropped a fraction, enough for Declan to pick up on the visceral reaction it caused within you, "He could barely interview a chatterbox never mind the fucking PM."

"You're telling me." Declan bit back a scowl, feeling the tension rise in his jaw, reaching instinctively for the whiskey glass and taking a long sip. "Baddingham saw me as too much of a flight risk for 'handling' the woman 'cause I didn't want to ask about her fucking kids."

Declan took a deeper breath at that, the embers of his anger being sparked from where they had previously settled. You took that as your moment to comment, "He's not going to outshine what you could - and have done. It'll be considered monumental because it's independent TV, not because she got the true 'Declan' treatment - like she deserves."

"Right." The older man shook his head at the thought of James Veriker opposite the PM on his stage. "He won't stray from what's asked of him 'cause at the end of the day, he's Tony's lapdog."

"Didn't take you for being a gossip, Mr. O'Hara." You accused playfully at the insinuation, finally getting comfortable in your seat.

"Please, love, you can call me Declan. No need for the respectful parent shit around here, alright?" Again with the endearment, you could at least write off the smile that immediately plastered across your features as being from getting to first name basis with your friend's dad.

"Noted, Declan." To stop the fluttering in your chest, you tried your best to steer the conversation back to why you came here in the first place, "Is that really all it takes to get you in such a storm? Correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but there has to be something else."

"Well then, you should consider journalism with an instinct like that." Declan deflected, looking from you to the swirl of amber liquid in the centre of his glass, hesitating to even form the next sentence in his head - since then he would have to acknowledge it's truth. Regardless, you were ruthless, poking him again.

"So there is something?" You assumed it was some secondary work troubles, something else infuriating about another one of his co-workers that lingered in the after hours of his workday. What you didn't immediately catch onto was how he had nearly frozen on the other side of the desk, biting the inside of his cheek, breathing deep to hold back the emotion that had bubbled to the surface.

As soon as you did, though, you stood from your chair, raced around the other side of the desk to try and comfort him, unsure entirely of how to proceed, what was appropriate to do when your best friend's dad was close to breaking down in front of you. "Hey, hey," You tried to get his attention, his eyes flickered to the sound of your voice but he was still frozen, "Look, I get that you might not want to tell me - is there someone I can call? Maybe Rupert? I know he lives just across the field-"

"It's alright, love, I-" His voice choked up, jaw tensing his mouth shut as his lip quivered. Now that you were closer you could see the tears pilling up on his waterline, threatening to break the barrier and fall down his cheek. The gloss of his eyes only made them look younger, his deep brown irises reflecting the golden light of the room.

"Declan?" Your voice was quiet, having lost all power and confidence it had when you walked into the room compared to now, "If you need me to go, I can. I'm sorry if I overstepped at all."

You waited a moment for a response, but as you leant yourself off of his desk, his hand came out to reach for your arm, his hold noncommittal. The silent agreement between you was clear, even if he didn't want to speak, he really did not want to be alone. He still didn't say a word to you, but he turned his head to meet your gaze, looking up at you with his doe-like eyes. That was enough for you to rest back on the edge of his desk, adjusting your own arm so his hand slid into yours. It wasn't meant as a romantic gesture, your fingers weren't intertwined at all, it was just for the reassurance that you were here, and you cared for him. You squeezed his hand once, a sympathetic look in your eyes matched with an upside-down smile.

The soundscape of the outdoors replaced your conversation, the archetypal noise of the countryside, the rustling of leaves and choirs of chirps as the sun dipped below the horizon, coating the sky in shades of pink and orange. You both stayed as you were for minutes, until Declan broke the silence with a quiet admission, "I- you can't tell Tag about this," He prefaced, waiting for you to acknowledge it, as much as it would hurt your to hide anything from your best friend, it was necessary in the moment. He took a purposeful breath, "Her mother and I, you probably know from Tag it's not been the best as of recent."

You nodded, still holding his hand.

"I have a feeling, that if nothing changes, it won't get any better - if you catch my meaning." His voice was solemn, one admitting defeat in a war instead of the typical talk of a long-term relationship like his with Maud. "And, I don't think I can change anymore."

It was your turn to sit and process, as Declan stared into the middle distance, loosely focused on the door; While his other hand came up to cover the bottom half of his face, realisation settling in. Your gaze was set out of the window behind the desk, in front of you, watching the world pass by as your mind raced. You couldn't tell Taggie, never mind if Declan hadn't made you promise not to, it simply wasn't your place to break that type of news to her, no matter how close you two were. The only other thought at the forefront of your mind was how to help Declan relax, how to calm him down, get him out of the spiral he was at the precipice of throwing himself into the centre of. If it was anyone else, you would take them out on the town, forget over a bottle of wine and music loud enough to drown out their thoughts. Although, you assumed from Declan's general introverted personal life that a rowdy club would be the last place he wanted to be in this kind of state. Instead, you did the logical thing, since your own mind had run dry of ideas.

"How can I help?" You suggested, not realising that at some point, Declan's gaze had moved from the door to you, for long enough that when you looked down to get his attention, it was already fixed on you.

"A distraction would be nice."

"Like a story?"

"If you've got one."

"Yeah, it's probably all going to seem petty to you, but they're the only ones I've got of any interest, unfortunately."

"Go ahead."

You regaled some bygone tale of a schoolfriend's suspension, all the way from your young teen days but still fresh in your mind and still just as scandalous. You became more animated the more you got into the story, your hand slipping away from his to gesture excitedly about the chase around the school grounds that your friend was involved in, with teachers and students trailing behind to watch as it all unfolded. Your eyes were rushing around the room, never settling, so you couldn't see the fondness in Declan's eyes as he watched you speak, and how quickly it helped him forget about his own troubles simply by the guidance of your voice. "And then," You paused, overcome with laughter at the memory. "Then," you gathered yourself, looking to Declan to reach the apex of the story, "She got stuck on the fence while she tried to climb over it, and had to get the fire brigade in to cut her out!"

"That's…" Declan chuckled alongside you, "And you said you went to an all girl's school?"

"Mhm!" you agreed, "The amount of crazy stuff that went down in that place, you'd think it was a TV show sometimes."

"If what you've just told me is anything to go by, I might just have to agree with you there, love." He paused, thinking on the details of the story, "Are you still friends with this girl?"

"No, no not really," You shook your head, appreciating the last warm embers of the sun as it fully disappeared out of view, "I hear about her and her lot every so often, some new escapade they've gotten wrapped up in, or old stories that finally get all the details filled in."

Declan nodded along as you spoke, his voice softer but with a clearer tiredness underneath, "Like a cold case, then? Those always fascinated me, keeping tabs on seemingly dead ends just for the hope of a revitalisation."

You made an affirmative sound, letting the conversation fall into a lull as you took in a deeper breath, appreciating the serenity of the moment, breaking the silence with a quiet, "Are you feeling better?"

He muttered a small 'yeah' following it up with a sincere, "Thank you, love."

"It's no worry, you needed it, and it cost me nothing to help - so why wouldn't I?"

"You're a selfless girl, honestly." He smiled to himself, the pull on his heartstrings a problem to deal with later, "Tag is lucky to have you."

"Speaking of!" The time had been lost on you, a part of you was sad to have to leave, but there was only so long before Taggie would get concerned of your absence, "I should go check if she needs any help finishing off the food."

Declan gave a polite smile as you got up from the desk, brushed off your skirt, leaving a small puff of flour in it's wake and rushed off to the kitchen, not before pausing at the door for a moment, turning back to Declan and letting him know, "I'll poke my head round once they're ready, if you're still here."

"I will be, thank you."

[bearprofessorr]

a second chance.

sometimes getting stood up is the only way to find what you really needed.

ship: declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: drinking, making out, no y/n. word count: 3.8k.

(crossposted on ao3)

---

The night was young, and you had plans. A date. One of the boys that helped out with the Cotswolds Round-up plucked up the courage to ask you out after a few weeks of idle chatter in the breakroom. You dressed up for the occasion - even if it was only for a drink at the one proper pub in the area. It wasn't often you would be asked out; normally you would be making the first move, hoping that it was reciprocated. Not tonight. 

You arrived slightly before you planned to meet him, wanting a drink to steady your nerves as the clock got closer to 8. you finished your first drink - a simple vodka coke - and looked back at the clock, now reading 8:15. Panic rose in your throat, but you kept it down by ordering another drink. Thankfully, there was a TV behind the bar that you could watch to pass the time, distract yourself and try and convince the other patrons of the pub that you were really enthused by... golf. 

The night continued to pass, and the golf blurred as you stared at the screen instead of watching it. The clock hit 8:45 and you had to swallow the pain of being stood up. You looked around the pub, seeing if anyone was looking at you - no one spared you a glance. There were faces you recognised, some from Corinium's other departments, but none that you spoke to at all; Until you looked down the bar, in a dim corner, noticing Corinium's prized jewel; Declan O' Hara, slowly nursing a glass of whiskey with his eyes just as glazed over as yours were, staring at the TV. Rumours had been circulating around the offices of Declan's wife being scouted for work in London after prized director Malhar Verma was spotted at the O'Hara's New Year's party. Although you knew nothing of Maud personally, she had been in some of your favourite films as a kid, and you were sure her return to the acting world would be well-received. However, from the looks of things, Declan wasn't taking the rumours too well, and from where you were sitting, it was unclear to you whether Declan was even sporting his wedding band. It wasn't as if you could go over and strike up a conversation, though. You had spoken to Declan in passing, mostly because your team helped Cameron with research and analytics - taking the analysis of audience retention and opinions off of her plate so she can do what she's best at. 

Whether he noticed you looking at him was another uncertainty - but you noticed his head move out of the corner of your eye, and you decided to act very interested in the golf again. When he stood up, you took no real notice, until he walked up next to you, got the bartender's attention and ordered another glass of whiskey. 

"Did Tony send you?" He leant his forearms on the bar, looking you over for anything he deemed suspicious behaviour, "'Cause if he did, tell him to fuck off, will you?"

"What?" You asked, more confused than defensive. 

"You work at Corinium, do you not?" Declan mirrored your expression, eyebrows furrowed as he waited for you to respond.

"Yeah, but I'm no spy - promise." You put your hands up in defence, giving Declan a weak smile and a shrug to try and calm his nerves. The bartender came over with Declan's drink before he could speak, so he quickly thanked him and took a long sip before continuing.

"So you just come to the pub - all dolled up and alone, for fun?" 

"I wasn't supposed to be. I got stood up."

"Oh. Sorry..." He awkwardly patted your shoulder, in some kind of apology - or sympathy. 

"Don't be. It was my mistake to assume he was being genuine."

"Men are cunts, take it from me - don't waste your time on them." His mind immediately darted to Rupert Campbell-Black, and his attempts to court his daughter. A small part of him looked at you, noticing you and Taggie appeared similar in age and he chastised himself for the thought. He went to say your name, but realised very visibly that he couldn't recall it, even though he recognised you. You noticed this and held out your hand, introducing yourself like you were taught to.

"I work with Cameron on research." You smiled, appreciating his gentle grip as Declan took you hand in his to shake it, placing his other hand on top to solidify the gesture. "We've actually been in the same meetings for the last month."

"Ah, that explains why I've seen you around - wait, are you-"

"Brainiac, yeah. Tony called me that once - probably not in the nicest way - and it just... stuck." You rolled your eyes at the memory, sighing, detaching your hands to run your fingers through your hair, "But I would prefer for that to stay at work. Obviously."

"Obviously," He parroted, "Of course." He noticed he hadn't reciprocated the greeting, and hated the fact he assumed people knew who he was, "I'm Declan."

"I know that." Declan winced ever so slightly at your response. You smiled without thinking, for the first time that night, "You're the golden goose of the network; and working with Cameron, I do research for your show. I think if I didn't know who you were through all that I'd be kicked to the street."

"Right." Declan chuckled, looking defeated as the conversation fell into a lull. "If you don't mind me asking," He presented the question, his journalistic instincts kicking in, "Who was it you were supposed to be meeting here?"

"Sebastian." The name rang a bell, with Declan recognising him for around the offices, mostly tailing Cameron wherever she went. Before he could make a comment, you spoke back up, "He... well- he said we would meet here and go for dinner, but that clearly isn't happening. I'd rather not dwell on it, if that's alright." You gave a flat smile, taking a long breath to stop the anxieties from crawling back into your mind. "I should have been realistic, he's... he's him, and I'm-"

"Don't sell yourself short. You're a beautiful woman, and it's a pity for him he hadn't recognised that." Declan cut you off, a stern look on his face. He took a moment to truly look at you then, in a way he hadn't dedicated the time to before - what self-respecting married man would spend his time gazing at the women he worked with? 

As much as you would have wanted to believe him, wrap yourself in his kind words, you simply couldn't. What did it matter if you were beautiful if no one was around to treat you as if you were? Actions and words meant very different things - both needed to be true if you wanted to believe it. This came across clearly on your face as you turned away to stare into your glass, both hands interlocked around it on the bar. 

"Thank you, but that doesn't change anything." You sighed, draining the last of your drink into your mouth, pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "I'm sure you didn't come here to comfort my bruised ego - I'll get out of your way so you can actually enjoy your night."

"And what enjoyment do you think I came here for?"

"I don't know," You shrugged, scanning the room before looking back at the TV, "Maybe you just wanted to watch the golf."

He laughed at that, raising his eyebrows in disbelief, leaning his back against the bar as you stepped away from it, "Really?"

"Look, what else am I supposed to say?" You looked down at his hand around his whiskey glass, noticing he was still wearing his ring, but the words came out of your mouth before you could hold them back, "That you've come here to drown out your troubles? I'm not like you, Declan, I don't pry."

He noticed your eyes dip from his, and a part of him wanted to hear you say his name again, in that perfect accent of yours. It was that same part of him that he kept locked away for fear of turning into the men he criticised. The small glint in his eye at that quickly disappeared, not without you noticing. "Maybe you should. You'd learn a lot about a person that way."

"You look like you're dying to tell me why you're actually here," You stood your ground, relaxing your posture, "so, go ahead."

"I wouldn't say dying to, but if you insist-" Declan teased, shrugging while he gestured with his glass for you to sit back down, but when you didn't, he nodded to acknowledge your lack of action and continued, "I came here to avoid Taggie sitting me down and trying to stop me from falling into 'old habits'." He exaggerated with the curl of his fingers. 

"Old habits like the one in your hand?"

"Bingo."

"Maybe you should listen to your daughter, Declan."

"Maybe you should mind your own business, darling." He mocked, enjoying the anger that immediately rose to your face, only to be concealed - except the lingering red around your ears.

"You're the one who-" You scoffed, noticing the smile playing on Declan's face and taking an audible breath, turning on your heel, "Forget it. Enjoy your habits, just try not to leave when the bar closes - makes you look like you have a problem."

"It's only a problem if I leave alone." Declan called out to you, and he watched as you stopped mid-step and placed your foot down delicately.

You paused, still facing the door, hands tensing as you considered your options. There were two ways this could go, if you stayed - and misread his signals, you go home disappointed. If you're right about the undertone of his words, and you stay, you can forget Sebastian and enjoy some good company - maybe more.  Already having been disappointed by one man tonight, the only way that has the potential to change is if you stay. 

"Is that so?" You turned, your head tilting to emphasise the playful nature of your question. "In my mind that would just be two people fuelling each other's addictions, but if you'd prefer I stay to make sure you get home in one piece-"

"I can take care of myself, you wouldn't need to carry me home." He paused, "If anything, the opposite's more likely."

"I think you underestimate how many people I've drunk under the table who've thought they can hold a light to my drinking prowess." You were bluffing - you'd only competed against one person, who was already pissed and was half-way to the bathroom after the first drink. 

"And you're the one saying I've got a habit? Looks like you've been practicing yourself."

"Only on weekends." You joked, and by the look on his face, it was clear Declan understood you were playing up your tolerance, and made space for you at the bar as you stepped closer.

"Right." He chuckled, "It's not for sport, then?"

"You could say it's more a hobby." You smiled, taking your seat facing Declan, while leaning an arm on the bar. "There's not much else to do out here."

"It's fair to indulge every so often." He gestured with his glass to the bartender for another round, taking the last sips from it, "Less destructive than hunting."

You rolled your eyes, the reminders of your summer job at a range leaving a sour taste in your mouth that was quickly replaced with a drink. "It's a hobby for assholes with delusions of grandeur, as far as my interactions with them have gone."

"So, the whole of Cotchester?" Declan raised an eyebrow, eyes following yours.

"Unfortunately so." 

"I'm certain you've heard everything there is to know, then?"

"Not that isn't already common knowledge."

"You'd be surprised - like how we all 'know' about Cameron and Tony-" The commonplace gossip slipped from Declan's mouth before he could think, but since it was only to another Corinium member, he realised it was safe to speculate. When you cut him off to fill the rest of his sentence, he breathed out a small sigh of relief.

"But his wife's none the wiser, yes I'm aware. I don't have the protections you do to go around telling everyone's business to any ears that'll listen." You shook your head, relaxing it to rest on your hand, propped up on the bar.

"Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're Declan O' Hara. Your whole schtick is digging up people's pasts, making a living off of the skeletons in their closets." You accused with a flourish, taking a long sip from your glass.

"Not always."

"But you have, right? Like with Rupert - you didn't say what it was but I know for a fact you had something catastrophic." There was a sparkle in your eye at that, the thrill of the chase, Declan knew that tone - he used it himself when he knew he had someone pinned. Backed into a corner, ready to strike. "You reached for something. I saw. Twice during that interview when you were readying yourself for the question, you reached," You reached across, poking the side of his chest. "Right there, for your blazer pocket."

"I was bluffing - to throw him off, and it worked like a charm." Declan brushed your hand away, lightly closing his hand over yours. Your heart fluttered at the contact, "Now, if I did have something on Rupert, as soon as I made the choice not to say it on air, that information never really existed."

"Because of your daughter?"

The question caused him to pause, the words hanging in the air. 

"What?" He tried to regain his balance, his gut tossing itself to the side. Thankfully, you didn't notice, and kept talking to fill the silence. 

"I overheard people talking about her bursting into the building to track him down during the break - did she know?" You interrupted yourself, "Was that what you were going to expose him for?"

Declan shook his head, trying his best to mask the disdain he felt for Rupert's advances on Taggie, "No, there wasn't anything to expose. Rupert's life has been incredibly public, everything I said was already out there, public knowledge."

"Tony and Cameron public or actually public?"

"Front page of 'The Times' public."

"Hmm." You didn't look fully convinced, but dropped the subject simply because of the look Declan was giving you - stern, final. "You two seem... friendly."

"We are." Declan agreed, adding with a knowing smile, "He's better than people assume he is - once he comes back down to earth." 

You chuckled at that, knowing the stories that filtered through the area of his specific brand of ego. The alcohol had fully seeped into your bloodstream now, if the dull pulse of your heartbeat in the back of your head was anything to go by. The lights seemed to shine a little brighter, haloing Declan in a warm glow. You didn't say anything, didn't feel the need to. You simply stared, observing how in the silence, Declan turned to face ahead of him, leaving you with the side profile of his face. He was tired, that much was evident - the light beginnings of unshaved stubble rising on his cheeks, a similar shade to the bags under his eyes, half-hooded eyes that threatened to close without forceful blinks every so often. It was only once you hand made contact with the side of his face that you realised it had moved to brush against his cheek, a slow, soft movement with the backs of your fingers. Declan moved his eyes before his head, an equally soft look and light glisten of water in them as they noticed the touch. 

Your eyes widened, your hand froze, you took in a short breath and held it tight in your chest. As soon as your hand twitched to move back, his rushed to hold it, trying to form the sentences in his mind to express what had made his heart stutter. All that came out of his mouth, like a plea, was the simple question;

"Can I kiss you?" 

You barely had time to process your head nodding, your instincts answering for you, before his lips met with yours for the first time. The first thing you noticed was how he tasted, of whiskey and cigarettes, combining with the scents of cedarwood - it was addicting to say the least. He pulled back, Declan's hand lingering on your cheek. Your eyes looked into his to try and find any hint of hesitation, of regret, and found none.

It was the light jeering of a table off in the corner that took you both out of the moment, made you duck to hide your blushing face from the other patrons of the bar. 

"Don't listen to them," Declan used the hand on your cheek to guide your face to look back at him, "They're only playing around."

"It's hard not to, not when I can feel them looking at me-" You cut yourself off, draining the rest of your glass. It was almost abrupt, the way you stood, grabbing your bag. Declan put a hand on your arm, trying to slow you down, and you answered his question with your own before he was able to ask it, "Are you coming or not?"

It took a moment for his mind to catch up, but as soon as he met your eyeline again, saw the light reflect in them, he nodded and slid his hand down your arm to lace your fingers together - the bar had his card on file, they would charge what they wanted. Frankly, he couldn't give a shit about how much he had spent, all he wanted was to follow you wherever you decided to go. That was good enough for you, and the pair of you left the bar to light cheers from the same table as before. As soon as you were outside, as soon as Declan knew there were no more eyes on you but his, he pulled you closer, feeling the goosebumps from the chilled air on your skin.

Declan's eyes were focused on your lips, physically restraining himself from devouring you there. You took the initiative in a rare moment of confidence, hovering over his lips before pressing them together, breaking apart for a moment only to return open-mouthed, deepening the kiss; His hands rushed to pull you closer, tangling into your hair and around your waist, fabric bunching under his grip. You pulled away, the chill of the night forcing you out of the moment. Declan chased your lips with his, instead electing to brush their noses together before pressing his forehead to yours. "What's wrong, darling?"

You smiled at that, had to stop yourself from breaking down into a puddle of laughter at how soft the situation had turned, "I- We might freeze to death out here if every ten paces you stop and-" You dodged his lips again, turning your head so they pressed against your cheek, still giggling all the while "-God, if you don't let us actually get to where we're going, I'll never forgive you."

It was almost childlike, how Declan pleaded with you, how his round brown eyes tracked yours, "I'll keep you warm, sweetheart, I swear."

"Declan-"

"No-" He interrupted, running his hands down your arms, interlocking your fingers once he reached your hands.

"As much as I would love to take your word for it, I can't feel my hands right now."

"They're fucking freezing." Declan commented, pressing both of your hands together so he could cup his around them in some attempt to warm them up. 

And at that moment, the bright lights from the unfortunate turn of a car into the driveway of the pub caught you both off guard, and something in your gut felt the need to make significant distance between you and Declan. Luckily so, since as the car pulled up, Declan recognised it and winced, knowing what was going to happen already. Not Taggie, but Rupert stepped out of the family's car first, with his daughter in the passenger's seat. 

"Fuck."

"Declan! Man of the hour, thought I'd find you rotting away here!" Rupert cheerily leant on the bonnet of the car, a shit-eating grin on his face as he crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not one to judge what a man does with his time but-"

"Fuck off Rupert." Declan rolled his eyes, pulling his blazer across himself. You were glad you hadn't been noticed, and tried to just start walking home when Rupert lifted himself off the car and walked with a brisk pace to step in front of you.

"Not so fast, sweetheart." He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, not quite meeting your eye, "I know the last thing you want to do is talk, but I'm not about to stand here and let you walk home by yourself."

He turned around to look back at the car, watching how Taggie had stepped out and was standing face-to-face with her dad, chastising him for staying out so late. Declan looked over for a moment, offered a small wave to you and Rupert and resigned himself to the justified beratement from his daughter - he knew in the bottom of his heart that she was right, but drinking was the easy way out and they both knew that. 

Taggie carted him into the front seat of the passenger's side, and beckoned Rupert over with a stern but tired look on her face. Rupert patted you on the shoulder, leaving you with a small, "Just one second, alright?" before jogging over to Taggie. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but with the vague gestures that Rupert made to you and the glances you caught from Taggie, you assumed they were talking about you. It made you want to dissolve, but that was the risk you took. And, at the end of the day, you were glad of the rest of the night you had, even if it ended prematurely.

Rupert, ever the gentleman, walked you the 30 minutes home, in relative silence. He broke it only to ask your name and if you were alright, both questions that you answered with the least information required. 

After a particularly awkward walk, you got to your door, and as you fumbled with your keys, you paused, took a breath and turned to face Rupert. "Look, I don't want this to become a whole ordeal-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell a soul." Rupert smiled, and it looked more genuine than the ones he flashed on Declan's show, "Your secret is safe with me." He reassured, nodding goodnight as you disappeared into your house to sneak into bed, alone.

[bearprofessorr]

masterlist.

Requests: Open!

---

Rivals:

Declan O'Hara

- a second chance.

- chasing the stars. / part 2. / part 3. (bfd!declan)

Severance:

Helly R./Mark S.

- when the tide comes.