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finelinefae · 2 months ago

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bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things.

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket.

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go.

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week.

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people.

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything.

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’.

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket.

She read his bio beneath.

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it.

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words.

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric.

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :)

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message.

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it.

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay?

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay.

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end.

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really?

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something.

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !!

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi

. . .

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering.

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did.

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure.

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving.

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?”

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.”

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company.

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people.

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi.

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head.

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office.

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about.

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath.

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office.

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?”

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?”

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card.

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds.

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car.

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring.

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally.

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.”

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped.

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel.

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy.

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did.

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered.

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words.

. . .

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean.

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went.

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door.

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?”

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.”

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto.

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy.

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers.

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him.

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone. But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . .

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary.

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled.

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb.

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

3K notes · View notes

sierrale8ne · 3 months ago

Note

mom oc with paige? she can be the one who stepped up but once they get alone it gets smutty

paige bueckers x mom!oc

nsfw // really long, porn with plot, takes place when paige is in the w (year 3 in LA), stepmommy paige, soft!dom!paige, sub!oc, fingering, dirty talk, nipple play, some soft smut and very sweet fluff!

saveareaves_

liked by cameronbrink22, nikamuhl, and 24,061 others

saveareaves_ fits gotta stay hard even in 100° weather 🙂‍↕️

view all comments

stormreid flyest mom ever 😮‍💨 liked by author

user1 hey so how about you stop gatekeeping that camera roll and give us a photo of you and paige and zion 😅😅 just a suggestion!

paigebueckers Featured 🙂‍↕️

╰ saveareaves_ always 💋

cameronbrink22 zion’s little hand 🥹

╰ saveareaves_ can’t keep her hands to herself lol

jujubballin 🤩🤩

user ur tan lines… savea you want me dead????

azzi35 i can’t wait to see you guys 😣

╰ saveareaves_ soon my girl ❤️‍🔥

Savea huffed lowly as she set her wax stick on her vanity, gently tugging her jet black hair into a ponytail at the top of her head, slicking it to perfection before dropping her hands and rolling her shoulders. Her two and a half year old daughter, Zion, sat on the carpeted floor near her feet playing with a unicorn plushie gifted to her by Savea’s girlfriend.

When Savea first met Paige, she was 23 years old and Zion was around a year old. She had just gotten out of an extremely toxic relationship with her child’s father who was ultimately out of the picture immediately after they broke up, and not looking for any type of relationship.

But Paige was simply different. She was very patient with her, understanding that Savea still wasn’t used to being treated as amazingly as Paige treated her nor was she used to communicating her feelings and emotions. But it was very easy to fall for her because Paige was an amazing woman who genuinely wouldn’t hurt a fly.

When Savea took that next step in introducing the athlete to her daughter, Paige practically fell in love all over again. Zion, though very young, was still a complete carbon copy of Savea. From her eyes to the shape of her nose and even her smile.

There was nothing the woman loved more than watching Paige become a parental figure to Zion. Caring for her when she woke up at night, to bringing her back gifts from every single road trip. She even went as far as having designated time with Zion every Sunday (yes, even when she was on the road), no excuses.

They were currently getting ready for one of Paige’s games where the Sparks would be playing the Valkyries in a California classic. It was the first home game back from all-star break and the game was heavily marketed, mostly because of the Sparks biggest stars in Paige, Cameron Brink, and Rickea Jackson going up against Paige’s former UConn teammates Azzi Fudd and Nika Mühl.

Savea was excited, not only because of the atmosphere, but being able to meet some of her girlfriend’s favorite people in person (finally) was something she was looking forward to.

“Mommy!” Zion’s voice ran through her ear as she picked her up off the floor, holding her to her hip as she grabbed her bag and other necessities all at once.

“Yes, Z?”

Zion brought her little hand up towards her face before gesturing towards the unicorn on the floor. Savea chucked before bending over and picking it up, handing it to her daughter.

“Thank you, mommy.”

“You’re welcome, my baby.”

***

Shuffling the excited toddler into the car and keeping her entertained throughout the ride to Crypto.com Arena was definitely a bit of a struggle, but once they got closer to the arena Zion settled a little bit.

Her cream colored kitten heels clicked against the yellow hardwood floor, while Zion ran by her feet.

Paige wanted them to show up a little before shoot around so she could meet everyone before the fans started to pack the stands. She had even made sure the two were able to get into the family and eat something before the game, it was very considerate of her and Savea made sure to thank her for it later.

“Paigey!” The little girl screamed, spotting the blonde in a courtside seat finishing up a conversation with one of her assistant coaches. An iPad between them as they looked at film.

She looked up, pushing back the flyaways of her slick back bun. She opened up her arms, leaning forward towards the end of the seat. “Hey, babygirl!” A grin so big it reached her eyes she she picked Zion up in her arms.

The little girl’s short arms wrapped around her neck while Paige peppered her cheeks with kisses. Savea smiled from her spot a few feet away, adjusting the Marc Jacobs bag on her shoulder.

“P, look!” She yelled, fingers pointing to the white shirt Savea styled her in with Paige’s face on it. “D’you like it?”

“I love it, Z! Thank you so much.”

Paige had brought her attention away from Zion’s shirt, listening to her talk about her day with her mom as she walked up towards Savea. She was fairly shameless in the way she sized her up. The black backless shirt with gold jewelry complemented her carmel skin wonderfully. Her cheetah print pants sat beautifully low waisted on her hips, and face done up to accentuate her already goddess like appearance.

Savea noticed, calling her closer with her forefinger before planting a short kiss on her lips.

“Hey, ma. You good?” Paige asked, disappointed that the kiss she’d been thinking about all day only lasted for a few seconds.

“Mmhm.”

“You look good.” Her girlfriend complemented. Her hand briefly went to cover Zion’s eyes with her hand before she jokingly, and dramatically, bit her lip. She mouthed something a little too nasty because Savea’s jaw dropped and she hit the blonde’s arm with a force she didn’t even know she had.

“Ow! Z, mommy just hit me!” Paige pouted.

“Mommy, don’t hit her!” Zion frowned, crossing her arms on her chest and Paige stuck her tongue out in victory.

This is what she regretted about introducing the two. Paige was literally a six year old trapped in an adults body. The two together was like working at a daycare. Savea reluctantly apologized, rolling her eyes at Paige when her daughter stopped glaring at her with her adorable brown doe eyes.

“Okay, so,” Paige started. “I have some people who really really want to meet you, is that okay with you, Z?” She asked, running her fingers through Zion’s curly hair. Azzi and Nika were just walking into the gym from their side of the arena, their lavender colored warmups slowly approaching the group of three. The child curled into Paige’s chest, looking to her mom for some sort of support.

Savea nodded. “It’s okay! We’ll go with you, princess. Don’t be scared.” She smiled, instating some confidence into the little girl’s heart.

“Okay.” Zion mumbled, reaching for her mom and Paige allowed the other woman to take her from her grasp.

***

“But I thought you wear yellow and purple?” Zion yawned as she looked up at Paige slightly confused.

It had been a little over two hours after the game had ended. The match up living up to its expectations. The Sparks had thankfully came out with a two point victory 88-86 thanks to a game saving block by Cameron on Nalyssa Smith in the last few seconds.

Paige had played great, and both Savea and Zion nearly lost their voices cheering for her. A 29 point game coupled with 10 rebounds and 6 assists, a few steals and a memorable block added to the stat sheet as well.

The blonde sat on the carpeted floor of Savea’s LA Apartment. Zion sat soundly in her lap, taking sips from the warm milk Paige had provided her to get her to sleep, it was definitely a little past the toddler’s usual bedtime. After getting back from the game Zion could not stop talking about how cool she thought Paige’s job was, so her bedtime story hearing about and looking at memories from Paige’s career up until now. Pictures from when she played at Hopkins, to when she held that National Title trophy over her head during her last year at UConn. (a/n: manifesting)

“Well I do now, but I used to wear white and blue for a very long time.” Paige explained.

“I like blue.” Zion Yawned again, and Paige took the sippy cup away from her little hands.

“I know you do.” Paige laughed, wiping the dribble of milk that fell from her lips. “I think it might be bedtime for you, princess.”

She didn’t miss the frown that spread across Zion’s face, “I don’t wanna!” She whined, shaking her head viciously and burying herself deeper into Paige’s hold. “Please, Paigey?”

Paige very clearly hated telling Zion ‘no.’ She felt like the words should never even form on her tongue when talking to the little girl, but it was past 11:30 at night and keeping her up longer would only be a recipe for disaster come morning time. “It’s late, baby girl. You gotta go to bed.”

Savea could sense her daughter getting frustrated, so she walked over. She sat on the sofa that Paige rested her back against. Her hand subconsciously slipping to cup Paige’s cheek. “Z, let her put you to bed, okay? You got all day tomorrow to do whatever you want.” She reasoned.

Zion looked over to Paige, her frown turning into a smile when she stood up on her thighs and wrapped her arms around her neck. “One more story? Please!” Dragging out the ending sound, Zion eagerly jumped up and down.

“Okay! Okay, one more, that’s it.” Paige gave in. “But we’re going upstairs.”

“Thank you, mama.”

Paige’s brows furrowed for a few milliseconds before her head shot up to look at Savea. The expression on her face was incredulous. Savea simply shrugged, a matching smile on her face.

“Did you just call me, mama?” Paige asked, returning her attention to Zion.

“Sorry, I won’t—”

“No. No! Don’t apologize, princess. Of course you can call me that. I’d love it if you called me that.” Paige reassured. She held Zion close, probably closer than she’d even realized.

Savea didn’t fight the smile that formed on her face. She was very stingy with who she allowed around her daughter, and rightfully so. When she had first introduced Zion to Paige she had only hoped that Paige would be around for a long time, not only to protect her heart but Zion’s as well. This was even more than she had expected. It was heartwarming and she was so grateful to be able to watch the two’s relationship form into what it was now.

***

Savea finally made her way to her bathroom after watching Paige hold Zion to her chest and take her into her bedroom. This was another thing she loved about having the athlete around, she didn’t have to do it all alone. She was able to take time for herself in ways she wasn’t able to do before.

She had gotten out of the shower, body clean and smelling of her Vanilla body wash. Her favorite rose colored night robe on her body as she finished the rest of skin care routine. A few knocks on her door got her attention.

She tugged the door open to reveal her girlfriend. The blonde stepped into the brightly lit bathroom, her arms immediately wrapping around Savea’s waist and pulling her close. Paige tucked her head into the woman’s neck, “You smell nice.”

“Thank you! It’s that new body butter you got me.” Savea answered. Her hands dropped to hold onto the arms around her waist. Paige still had on her outfit from the game. A simple white graphic t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off; she was obviously in the mood to show off her muscles tonight. Her baggy light wash jeans clung low to her hips, the band of her Calvin Klein’s peaking out. “You played good tonight, it was kinda hot.” She changed the subject.

Paige’s lips puckered, pushing a kiss to Savea’s neck. She was soft with it, teasing as she looked into her eyes through the mirror. “I had a baddie sitting in the box, I had to show out.” She joked. Savea rolled her eyes at the cockiness that ran through her body.

“Okay, Jordan Poole.”

“I’m serious! You shoulda seen her, baby. She got a pretty smile, body on a whole different level, she was cheering me on the whole game too.” Paige continued, she slightly rocked the two side to side as she spoke.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm, definitely a MILF. Shoulda seen her.” She teased. Paige kissed Savea’s neck again. Her hand moved to the silk string of her robe, playing with it but not tugging the robe open. “She ain’t got shit on you though.

“At all?”

“Nope. You just do something different to me. Can’t ever be replicated.” Paige said. She gently turned Savea around so she could look at her pretty face up close. Her eyes raked her girlfriend’s body, her tits just barely peaked out of the top of the silk cover up. The curve of Savea’s hips, though, was probably Paige’s favorite. Her skin was decorated in pretty stretch marks that she always made sure to show extra love to.

Savea puckered her lips, teasingly sticking them out for Paige to finally kiss them. Connecting them in a gentle kiss, Paige cupped Savea’s cheeks in her hand as she kissed them repeatedly. Savea let her, shoulders relaxing into Paige’s comfort as she melted into the kiss.

Paige’s tongue pushed slowly between her lips. It was a feeling and a taste she would never get over, even after these last couple years together. Savea tasted like candy, like hot chocolate on a snow day, like ice cream. So familiar and sweet.

Paige moaned softly and it spurred Savea on as she sucked dangerously on the pink muscle. Paige kisses back harder, the only signs of breathing being the short sounds of air leaving her nose.

The blonde pulled back delicately, pressing her pink lips to Savea’s cheek, then her jaw, and finally on her earlobe. “Sav?”

“Hmm?” She responded.

“Can I take this off?” Paige gestured towards her robe, tugging on the lace hem with the tips of her fingers.

Savea nodded, eyes going wide and eager. “Please.”

Her slender fingers untied the knot that kept the frail fabric together, watching it fall open around Savea’s body. Her breasts round and decorated with her hardened nipples and ridiculously sexy tan lines. A low whistle left Paige’s mouth as she continued sizing her up.

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, baby. My God.” Paige exclaimed. Her hands traveled up to Savea’s tits, cupping them before they moved to her hips. “Take these off.” She instructed. Her fingers snapped the simple navy colored cotton underwear against her hips. Savea reached to pull them off until the pooled by her feet and Paige took it as an opportunity to take off her white shirt, leaving her in a black Nike sports bra and her jeans.

To say Savea’s gawked at her body would be an understatement.

She stood practically drooling. Her abs were so defined and the muscles on her arms unintentionally flexed with each movement she made. The sight alone was more than enough to have her soaking wet between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, hoping to alleviate the pressure there.

“Babe, I don’t think you understand how bad I need you right now.”

“Show me then.”

Savea’s legs slightly parted, giving Paige room to step closer and stand between them more. A hand gripped her waist while the other trailed from the center of her chest and down her stomach. Savea rested against the counter, her palms flush against the cool marble sink when Paige ran her middle finger through her folds.

The slick pooled on her finger, catching her by surprise. She brought her finger to her lips, licking her girlfriend’s precum off of it before licking her lips.

“Hiding that from me all day, Sav?”

“Paige c’mon.” Savea breathed out, her head lolling to the side where she looked at Paige teasingly. A pout gracing her face.

She wanted more and Paige could tell, so her finger slipped inside slowly, gently parting her folds and brushing her walls with the long finger. Savea took a deep breath following that with a bite of her plump bottom lip. Her fingers were good company while Paige was busy, but they never did the job as well as her girlfriend did.

“Shit, you’re already dripping?” Paige groaned at the sight.

“You don’t know how sexy you look when you play.” Savea defended, but her mind was elsewhere, namely the slight rake of Paige’s long finger moving inside of her. “Been like this for hours, P.”

“You think you can take another?”

“Two more. Fuck, I’ll take three more. Just fuck me, P.”

Paige was never one for making her woman wait, so she nudged her clit gently with her ring finger. Her hand stilled before pushing in the second finger followed by the third. Savea’s insane wetness made it easy.

“You’re so tight, Sav.” Paige mumbled, dragging her fingers in and out at a dangerously slow pace. Her lip tucked between her teeth while she watched Savea’s body writhe. “You like that, baby?”

She nodded in response, a moan mixed with a whine leaving her pouted lips.

Paige’s head traveled to her girlfriend’s chest. Her lips kissing gently on it before traveling to her tits. She grasped one in her hand, tongue slowly peeking out of her mouth to lick Savea’s sensitive nipple. Paige did it again, but this time softly biting on the flesh. Her fingers started speeding up, the thickness of the three combined with the sucking on her tits made Savea’s eyes roll.

“Ha— Paige. Oh fuck, just like that.” She whimpered. Her hand cradled Paige’s head, fingers tangling into the long blonde hair. Her head fell back as she gripped onto the edge of the sink with her free hand. “Feels ‘s good.” Savea praised.

Her girlfriend’s lips continued with opened mouth kisses across her skin, tongue teasing her nipples and soothing the hickeys that formed there. The pace Paige had set for herself was dreadfully slow, teasing that one spot over and then slowing down before speeding up again. She pulled back from Savea’s chest, biting her bottom lip while she moved.

“You’re so pretty, Sav.” Paige complemented. Her arm began to sting, her muscles tensing from the increased rigor. Her middle finger curved just slightly and Savea’s head shot up with a shade of pink accented on her cheeks. “Oh my God, listen to that.” Paige fired. The wetness of Savea’s cunt was doing unimaginable things to her, soaking her boxers without a doubt.

“Baby,” Savea started. Her hand darted down to her clit, but Paige pushed the hand away.

Her need for control was so apparent. Her tall and muscular body towered over her menacingly and Savea craved it. She lived off of that feeling.

“Let me get you right.” Paige groaned as she pressed her thumb to the woman’s clit. She applied a steady pressure to the nerves, rubbing tight circles over it. “Fuck you just like you need it. You’re takin’ it so good, mama.”

“It’s so fucking—sensitive.” Savea gasped.

She raised in volume, and although the feeling was otherworldly, she still had her child sleeping in the room next door. Her hand pressed to her mouth to silence her growing cries.

Paige’s fingers pressed against her spot over and over and over again. The curling of her fingers hit that gummy spot and made Savea’s legs nearly give out on her. Her stomach was doing summersaults and the knot tightened.

“Let it go, Sav.” Paige instructed. “All down my hand, let that shit go.” Her veiny hand peeled Savea’s palm from her mouth. Paige’s lips hovered over hers, nearly touching but not yet as she breathed in all of her girlfriend’s breathless pleas. “Let me hear you.”

“‘M so close.”

“I know, Ma.”

“You’re so deep.”

Paige smirked at that, pushing her hand further until a squeal escaped Savea. “I’ll go deeper. Just need you to cum. Make a mess on this floor, go ‘head.”

“Paige!” Savea hiccuped, a groan leaving her lips as she steadied a hand on her broad shoulder. Eyes glued shut and mouth agape as she approached her climax.

“Look at me, love.” Paige spoke softly. Her hand slipped to the back of Savea’s neck, refocusing her attention.

Savea’s eyes blinked open, a glassy look on her brown eyes. Her body was on fire thanks to Paige, she knew her like the back of her hand. The blonde hit her spot with ease, repeatedly pushing at her button and rubbing her clit simultaneously until Savea’s legs shook and she gripped her shoulder with an electric force as she came.

Her jaw fell slack, her moans coming out as more dragged out breaths. Her chest heaved, and Paige’s eyes remained glued to her, even after she broke their eye contact. Her cum pooled in Paige’s palm, the sticky substance coating her hand and Savea’s thighs.

The athlete took another step forward to connect their lips, her fingers gently slipping out of her cunt. “I love you.” She spoke in between short pecks.

“I love you too, P.” Savea whispered back.

Her arms finally draped around her shoulders to hold her close, and Paige’s wildly exhausted ones fell together at Savea’s hips. They stood like that for a while softly shifting side to side while Savea caught her breath. Her head fit perfectly in Paige’s neck, inhaling the scent of her cologne that still managed to stay on throughout the night. Paige’s clean hand drew circles on her lower back, muttering soft, sweet nothings into her ear.

“Paige?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I say this all the time, but I really am so thankful for everything you do to help me out with Z.” Savea’s voice was low, she nearly drifted off to sleep right where she stood. “None of it goes unnoticed.”

“Baby don’t worry about it. You’re my family, I’m just doing my part.” Paige spoke into Savea’s hair. This was her life. Sure she got to play the sport she loved and the fame and attention that came with it was an added bonus, but she had Savea and Zion. Her motivation to keep going, even when she hated going to the gym in the morning. She had a family. “Oh my God, she called me mama today.” Paige finally realized.

She couldn’t fight the smile that formed on her face even if she tried. Savea nodded from her spot in Paige’s neck, giggling like a child when she looked up into her girlfriend’s bright blues.

“I know! You should’ve seen your face.” Savea pointed out, and just like that Paige was joining her in laughter, holding her lover close by while she talked.

And when their night came to an end, after they took a shower (yes another shower for Savea) and the girl returned the favor to Paige in said shower. After all was said and Savea fell asleep in the strong arms of her lover, Paige closed her eyes with a smile on her face. Thinking of her girl, and their little family.

paigebueckers posted a story !

tagged saveareaves_

authors note so so so cute, thank you anon! domestic paige is my favvvvvvorite but i thought it would be weird to write about her like this while she’s still at uconn idk.. so LA PAIGE (💔)

#kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#sierrale8ne #paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #wlw smut #lesbian #oneshots ✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡#rqs 🐆

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mysticheathenn · 6 months ago

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Hard Messages From Love

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is all about messages from love itself. If you were looking for a sign from any kind of delusions...this is it. Hopefully this isn't too harsh.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

Pile l:

Messages from love? Tarot: 2 of Swords, 9 of Pentacles (reversed), 9 of Swords, The World, The Chariot (reversed), 10 of Pentacles.

Things that may surround your mind about love? Give me a sign if things should end or if I am being paranoid. I can't eat or sleep about a decision. I feel suffocated by this person and I don't want to feel this way or leave them. I need to follow my heart but what if my heart is wrong? I deserve someone who shows and gives me the world. This person deserves the world and more than what I can give them.

Pop Culture Reference: Pride and Prejudice Move (2005)

Message: Someone here has been on your mind for quite some time. For some of you, this is a decision that you need to make regarding breaking up and for others of you this is regarding following your heart. Following your heart can go two ways: 1) breaking up or 2) giving someone you have "friend-zoned" a chance at dating you. Either way, your overall message is to follow your heart. Make the tough decision that needs to be made and stop second-guessing everything. If you haven't been happy in a long time in your relationship then it's time to leave. If you know dating someone would bring you great joy it's either you date them or be upfront and honest by telling them you are either scared or just don't want to be with them. Either way, you need to let that person be free to date someone who actually wants to be with them or has the guts to go after what they want. There is no long-term benefit of stringing someone along. This pile is also about the required action that needs to be taken place. There are so many things in this pile that are impossible to mention, but you deep down know what this required action is. It's the action that will give you freedom from the torment of your mind. This group reminds me of the scene in Pride and Prejudice where Mr. Darcy says "Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you. I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank, and circumstances. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony." (Yes, I had to put the entire iconic quote in this reading). Do the thing that needs to be done. Have the courage to either go after what you want or end what needs to be ended. No one can make or do these decisions for you. Just do it.

Pile ll:

Messages from love? Tarot: The Sun, Strength, The Tower (reversed), The Wheel, 2 of Swords (reversed), Death

Things that may surround your mind about love? Is this ever going to end? But I can't give them up. They will be back. They always come back. I want to be happy with only them. I need them. Ride or Die. Bad Marriage/relationship for life.

Pop Culture Reference: Round and Round by Selena Gomez, Will and Jada Smith's marriage

Message:

"We're going 'round and 'round, We're never gonna stop going 'Round and 'round, We'll never get where we're going, Round and 'round, Well, you're gonna miss me, 'cause I'm getting dizzy, Going 'round and 'round and 'round" - Selena Gomez. This pile somewhat was attracted to some degree to pile l. This pile is all about prolonging the inevitable when regarding a person. The tower card is in reverse and the death card is also here. There is a change that needs to happen between you and whoever this pile is about. The rain may fall today and tomorrow but eventually, you're going to have to give way and make room for the sun that desperately wants to clear some of the toxic patterns and unfulfilled desires that have plagued you for some time now. Just because someone keeps coming back into your life doesn't mean they are for you. Just because you have been with someone for a while does not mean you have to keep dealing with them because of history. History is great but also lessons are never learned there and you are not learning your lesson from the past history of this person or anyone else you have dealt with that is similar to them that you seem to not being able to escape. It's time to end the cycles you keep repeating. There is nothing romantic about struggling and settling. There is nothing cute about being a "ride or die" especially when that ride or die would watch you die. It's time to pull yourself by the bootstraps and end the cycles. You can't keep wondering why life gives you the same people with different bodies when all you do is continue to go after them or allow them to entertain you. Love wants you to know a change is coming and you're not going to like it. You may be left heartbroken to the point you may be turned off from love or people in general but you forced love's hand to do something you were not willing to.

Pile lll:

Messages from love? Tarot: The Emperor (reversed), 8 of Swords, Knight of Swords, 3 of Cups, Strength.

Things that may surround your mind about love? Speak no evil. See no evil. Hear no evil. Ignorance is bliss. I can fix him/her/them. Misunderstood. Little Red RIding Hood.

Pop Culture Reference: DW from Arthur "This sign can't stop me because I can't read." Link "This is your man. That's mine and I'm going to stick beside him." Link In My Head by Ariana Grande / Papa Don't Preach by Madonna

Message:

This pile might be attracted to pile ll but not all that much. This pile is for those who know someone isn't good for them but keep hanging around them. Your friends and family have told you this person isn't who you think they are or aren't how you keep trying to paint them. It's as if you keep trying to gaslight yourself into staying with this person because of the potential or the made-up version you have of them in your head. "My imagination's too creative, They see demon, I see angel, angel, angel, Without a halo, wingless angel" - Ariana Grande. You have the blindfolds on in this connection or about this person and you refused to take the blindfolds off all because what might either be of three reasons: 1) FOMO, the fear you might miss out on if this person does change or does something spectacular like get a record deal or win the lottery. 2) You have some sort of spiritual tie to this person through sex. For those who don't know yes, you can have an energetic pull or tie to someone through sex. If you find yourself in a dead-end relationship where you can't truly give substantial reasons as to why you aren't leaving even though you know the relationship has resulted in nothing but sex and history....soul tie. Or for most people it can be a codependency. 3) They suckered you into their web of victim mentality where they told you everybody has left them and basically uses the same techniques as an abuser to hook people into them to not leave. You remind me of the story of Little Red Riding Hood where it's quite obvious the wolf is a wolf and not her grandma but Little Red kept ignoring the signs of being in danger of the wolf. It's okay to lose out on someone. It's okay to want to be someone's cheerleader and see the potential in someone. What is not okay is when the person doesn't change or show these potentials that you know are somewhere in them. There is a saying that people change who they want to change for and unfortunately that person might not be you and that's okay because there is better out there who will or can match the person you want in your head and you have to stop to forcing those who don't want to be that person into that box.

Pile lV:

Messages from love? Tarot: 9 of Swords, Hange MAn, 5 of Wands, 5 of Swords, Queen of Wands, 9 of Pentacles (reversed).

Things that may surround your mind about love? They've changed. This time is different. Nobody is perfect. The heart wants what it wants.

Pop Culture Reference: Hanging on by Kim Wilde. Heart Wants What it Wants by Selena Gomez. 27 Dresses Movie.

Message:

It seems every pile might have two piles they may have been attracted to and pile lV you are no exception. You may have also been attracted to pile lll. Instead of having a blindfold on like pile lll when it comes to others or connections, you don't see your worth when it comes to matters of the heart. You constantly allow others to play you and you keep allowing them to because of the kind heart you have thinking that people change and maybe this time is different. It's wild how you would go to bat for people who treat you horribly but they won't do the same for you and for some of you you're okay with that because you feel you don't deserve healthy love or connections. Others of you, you secretly crave wanting someone to show you the same kind of love that you show others but low self-esteem as well as possibly history from dating people who don't speak positively to you have made you to believe you don't deserve that kind of love. You remind me of those who feel that they will always be the bridesmaid but never the bride, similar to 27 dresses. The main character was after a man who didn't even know she existed outside of her job (she loves her boss) and was always there for other people even when they were selfish and weren't there for her. You have such a big heart to give to others, but it's time to give your heart to those who deserve it. Stop allowing those who don't see your worth to treat you any kind of way. See a spade as a spade and not an Ace (again similar to pile lll). I don't know you pile lV but I wish I did so I can give you a big hug because you deserve all the greatness and beauty of this world. You shouldn't have to fight for a spot in anyone's life nor fight to have the love you deserve from others. It's time to pour that love you give to others back into yourself and attract healthy and loving relationships and people into your life.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

#spirituality #witchblr #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a card #tarot cards #pick a pile #pac tarot #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick an image

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kalki-tarot · 1 year ago

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[🥀 ] FUTURE SPOUSE PERSONLAITY TRAITS

Pick A Pile

how to pick your pile!

🦢 : from left to right — Instinctively select the picture that feels right to you, whether based on your thoughts or the desires of your inner self. Choose the one that resonates with you, keeping in mind that this reading is meant to be general in nature and may not resonate with everyone.

🦢 : Disclaimer — The images I used to select a pile were sourced from Pinterest, I hope the reading will deeply resonate with you. I'm not responsible for any decisions you make in your life from my readings. I'm just a beginner and these readings are just for fun.

I DON'T DO PAID READINGS. YOU CAN SEND ME AN ASK IF YOU WANT BUT PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.

PILE 1

Cards : the lovers, justice, the hanged man, 6 of cups, devil, queen of wands, ace of swords.

I think they are someone balanced, they have their masculine and feminine energy balanced.

They are deeply romantic as the lovers card came out. They are giving me gemini vibes. They might be your soulmate. They're very attractive and may be a lot of people have a crush on them. But they seem to mind their own business.

They are fair, logical, and love justice. They're the peacemaker in the group. Their friends or close ones might ask them for advices as they're great at it due to their rational mindset.

They're kind and generous. They'd like giving you gifts. They might be struggling or working hard in their lives right now.

They're kind of disinterested in outwardly things. They like to stay in their place. They might be unconventional, personality wise.

They have a playful, devilish personality. They like being social. They're outgoing and may have many friends.

They are unique! Not like others. They have fresh perspectives and visions which makes them lovable and interesting. They are eager to cease new opportunities and are innovative and creative. Thanks for reading.

PILE 2

Cards : the emperor, strength, Ace of swords, three of swords, the lovers, the hanged man, justice.

They are bold and family oriented. They are very masuline and might be traditional in sense of family. They will be the provider in the relationship.

They are a go getter type of energy. They act quick and make fast decisions. They will be straightforward in terms of what they want.

Someone might have broken their heart in the past which made them lik e this - cold and hard from outside. They might be stuck in this for a long time. But they'll be given justice when you'll enter their life and they'll treat you like a deserving King or Queen.

They might be cold from outside but they're soft for their loved ones and family.

If they like someone romantically, they're ready to do everything for them. Like I said before, they'll do everything for their loved ones.

For zodiac signs, they might be an Air sign and a little bit of Fire Signs.

PILE 3

Cards : 2 of swords, the hanged man, knight of pentacles, king of pentacles, 10 of pentacles, page of wands, king of wands.

They're someone who thinks and plans before they act. They are currently going through a phase in their life which requires them to make a decision, and they're thinking about it or introspecting things before making any choice. They're indecisive and have an avoidant tendency.

In love, they might offer you for a date or anything like that from their side. They might gift you a lot of things as they come from a financially abundant and secure family.

The page of wands represents someone who loves adventures and loves trying new things. Staying still in a single place for a long time is hard for them.

They might be directionless in their life before but now they're improving themselves and working towards their goals! This is a good sign of character development. They know what they're doing and how to improve it for better.

They might be a Fire Sign or Air Sign.

Thanks for reading. Please be kind in the comments, I'm just a beginner so don't take these readings seriously. Take what resonates. And ignore grammatical errors please, english is not my first language.

#tarotblr #tarot community #tarot reading #tarot cards #pick a pile #pick a card #future spouse #soulmates #twin flame #tarot

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writingforstraykids · 7 months ago

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Always back to you - Chp.2

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of Chanlix)

Word Count: 7523

Summary: Minho and you grow closer over time as he watches you handling his beloved son with such ease. Minjun's innocent question, asking you to stay with them, changes the dynamics a little. One day, you're taking the trust Minho offers you regarding his son a little too freely, and it ends in a mess...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, double "date" with chanlix, panic attack (brief description), argument (y/n and minho/ minho and chan), min collapses during practice

PART ONE | PART THREE

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

Two weeks later

You just left the local aquarium, and all of you felt like getting something to eat now. Minho had mentioned their planned visit to the aquarium a few days ago, and Chan and Felix had decided to tag along, inviting you as well.

It had been great fun seeing Minjun so fascinated with everything and answering all his questions. Chan and Felix fell back occasionally, taking some private moments as a couple for themselves as well, which left you a lot of time to talk to Minho.

Now, you’re back outside, standing in front of the aquarium. “You’re hungry, mate?” Chan asks, kneeling in front of Minjun.

“Yes,” he nods, wrapping his arms around Minho’s leg and cuddling into him.

“Then let’s go get some food, yeah?” Chan suggests with a warm smile, and Minjun nods.

Minjun glances around before gently tugging at Minho’s trousers. “Daddy?” he asks, and Minho hums in response. “Up?” he asks, seeming a little intimidated by all the people after the peace and quiet at the aquarium.

“Come here, dumpling,” he chuckles, picking him up. He tickles his side, pulling a sweet giggle from him, and kisses his cheek. “Let’s go eat, yeah?”

“Yes,” he nods, much more content up here now.

Felix looks up from his phone and taps Chan’s shoulder. “Babe? I found something,” he tells him, and Chan’s hand finds his as he leans over to glance at his phone.

“There’s a small restaurant not far from here that offers a lot for kids,” Chan tells them after humming agreeingly. “They even have a small playground in the back in case he gets bored and some coloring sheets.”

“Oh, guys, seriously, we can go wherever you want. He can still have some of mine if they don’t have kids' portions,” he assures them, and you notice his slight discomfort.

“I don’t mind, it looks good,” you agree with Chan.

“Minho hyung, relax; there’s plenty of stuff for all of us there. We don’t mind, honestly,” Felix assures him with his usual bright smile.

“Okay then,” Minho nods with a shy smile.

The theme restaurant is vibrant, decked out in bright colors, and adorned with characters from children’s shows. It was every kid’s dream, but as you sit down and look over the menu, Minho feels a familiar sense of dread begin to settle in. You excuse yourself for the bathroom and leave them for a moment.

“What would you like to eat, Minjun?” Minho asks, pointing to pictures of various kid-friendly options. “They have dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, or maybe you’d like some noodles?”

Minjun scrunches up his face and shakes his head fiercely. “No! I don’t want those!” he protests loudly, causing a few nearby customers to glance over.

Minho’s heart sinks; they are in his son’s favorite type of restaurant, yet the usual struggle is unfolding. “Come on, buddy, you love dinosaurs. These nuggets look fun,” he tries to keep his voice cheerful, but the frustration is hard to mask.

“I don’t want it! I want to go home!” Minjun’s voice starts to rise, edging towards a tantrum.

Minho shoots his friends an apologizing look and shakes his head gently. “Baby, we'll eat here as we said.”

“They have your favorite noodles, Jiho; look,” Felix tries to help, showing him on the menu.

“No!” Minjun swats his hand aside. Felix blinks in surprise but draws his hand back with an apologetic grin toward Minho.

“Minjun, hey,” Minho says more firmly than he intended. “I know you're upset, but we don't hit people. Say sorry to Lix, baby,” he lessens the firmness in his voice again.

“Sorry, uncle Lix,” Minjun says timidly, tears starting to form in his eyes.

“It's okay,” Lix assures him gently.

Minho takes Minjun's little hands into his and gently smiles. “Thank you, buddy. You still don't want to eat?” he asks.

Minjun shakes his head, avoiding his eyes. By the time you arrive, Minjun is on the verge of tears, and Minho is feeling the stares of other people, each look like a weight added to his shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask gently, taking your seat next to Minho.

“He doesn’t want to eat anything,” Minho explains, rubbing his temples. Chan gently pats his back, trying to calm him a little.

You turn to Minjun, your expression thoughtful. “You know, I was really hoping you could help me with something,” you begin, speaking directly to Minjun. “I’m super hungry, and I can’t decide what to eat. Maybe you could choose something for me? What do you think is good here?”

Minjun, now distracted from his brewing fit, looks curiously at you. “Fries…or dino nuggies...” he mumbles, still upset but intrigued by the involvement in the decision-making.

“Great choice. But I heard this place has a secret dish that’s really, really cool,” you whisper conspiratorially. “It’s a magic pizza that makes everyone super happy when they eat it. Do you think we should try it?”

Minjun nods, a slight smile breaking through his frown. “Okay, we can try,” he agrees shyly.

You wink at Minho, who looks at you in astonishment as you get up. You talk a word in private to your waiter before the rest orders their things. While they wait for the food, you engage Minjun in a conversation about the aquarium you had visited earlier, effectively diverting his attention from the earlier situation.

When the food arrives, the pizza is presented by the waiter, who plays along with the 'magic' theme, sprinkling imaginary dust over it. “Enjoy your magic pizza, brave knight!” he exclaims, leaving Minjun giggling.

“See, it’s magic because it makes you smile,” You say, taking a small slice and offering it to Minjun. “You want to try some magic?”

Minjun hesitates for just a moment, glancing at his father.

“Go on, baby,” Minho encourages him.

Minjun nods before taking a tiny bite. His eyes widen in surprise. “It’s good!” he declares, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Minho watches the scene, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He smiles at you, mouthing a silent "thank you." The rest of the meal goes smoothly, with Minjun even trying some salad from Felix's plate and some noodles from Chan's.

As they leave the restaurant, Minho feels lighter than he has in days. “You really have a way with him,” he says to you as you walk toward the park.

“It’s all about making it fun, turning it into a game,” you giggle. “Sometimes, kids just need a little distraction from their worries, even if it's about food.”

Minho nods, watching Minjun run ahead to the playground with Chan and Felix. “I guess I need to be a bit more creative with meals,” he admits.

“Or just call me when it’s time to eat,” you joke, and you both laugh.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and play, with Minjun in high spirits, having forgotten all about the lunchtime drama. As Chan and Lix say their goodbyes, Minho feels not just the exhaustion from a day well spent but a profound appreciation for his friends.

“Thanks again, Y/nnie. Today could have gone a lot differently without you,” Minho says as you part ways with them.

“Anytime, Minho,” you reply with a warm smile.

“Let me drive you home? You're on our way after all,” he says, and you take his offer.

Minho gets Minjun settled in the back before driving off. “Y/nnie?” Minjun's little voice comes from the back.

“Yes, buddy?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Stay?” he asks, and you frown at him gently.

“Stay where Minjunnie?” you ask.

“With us?” he asks timidly.

Minho glances at his son through the mirror. He can see the need in his eyes and swallows hard. He knows how much his son sometimes longs for someone else besides him. He asked about his mother before seeing other kids at the playground.

You glance at Minho nervously, not quite knowing how to respond without hurting either of them. “You mean for dinner?” you ask, trying to find a way out.

“No…always,” he says softly, his big round eyes watching you timidly.

Minho stops at a red light and stares out of the window, avoiding your look. His grip around the steering wheel tightens as his thoughts start spiraling, once more feeling like he isn't enough for his son. He knows he isn't.

“Oh, love,” you say quietly and reach back for him. “It's okay, you know, we see each other sooo often, and I'm always at the company.”

“But I miss you,” he says softly, and you honestly don't know what to say about that.

“You want to stay for dinner?” Minho speaks up quietly, and you look back at him. He sees the hesitation written all over your face and swallows softly. “It would be fine,” he assures you quietly.

You nod slowly, considering Minho's quiet offer. "I can stay for dinner, Minjunnie," you tell him, smiling as his face lights up. Minho gives you a grateful look, the tension easing from his shoulders as he turns back to the road.

The rest of the drive is spent in a comfortable silence, broken only by Minjun's occasional chatter from the back seat, talking about his day at the aquarium and the 'magic' pizza he had enjoyed. You listen, amused by his excitement and the way his eyes sparkle when he recounts his adventures.

Arriving at their home, Minho helps Minjun out of the car and into the house, with you following close behind. The familiar warmth of their home greets you and you slip off your shoes at the door, following Minho into the kitchen.

"I can help with dinner," you offer as Minho begins pulling ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Thanks," Minho says, his voice soft. "I think I'm just going to make something simple I know he likes. Is some pasta okay with you?"

"Perfect," you reply, setting the table while Minho starts cooking. Minjun hovers between the two of you, occasionally helping by passing ingredients or stirring the sauce under Minho's watchful eye.

As the pasta cooks, you and Minho chat about work and plans for the upcoming week. The conversation is light, but there’s an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken lingering between the lines.

Dinner is ready in no time, and you all sit down to eat. Minjun chatters happily, clearly enjoying having both of his favorite two people together. The meal is delicious, and you compliment Minho on his cooking, which makes him smile with pride.

After dinner, Minho insists on cleaning up, so you take Minjun into the living room to play a game. As you build a tower of blocks, Minjun's earlier request echoes in your mind. You glance towards the kitchen, where Minho is quietly washing dishes, and your heart twitches with a mixture of affection and concern.

"You're really good at building things," you comment, watching Minjun place another block on the tower.

"Daddy says I'm good too," Minjun states proudly, his concentration evident as he places each block.

"Of course he does," you encourage him, your thoughts still on his request to have you stay. It wasn't just about tonight—it was about all the nights and all the days. He wanted you there, a permanent fixture in their lives.

When Minho returns, drying his hands on a towel, he finds you and Minjun laughing as your tower wobbles before toppling over. He can’t help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through him he hasn't felt in a while, not like this. He watches you, studying your features as he has so many times before, and something in him screams not to think you're beautiful. But you are. Lately, he can't help but notice it again and again.

"Ready for bed, buddy?" Minho asks after checking the time.

Minjun pouts but nods, knowing that bedtime is non-negotiable. You help Minho get him ready for bed, a routine that feels both familiar and strangely intimate. Minho reads Minjun a bedtime story, and you watch, feeling a part of this little family.

After Minjun falls asleep, you and Minho settle on the couch with cups of tea. The house is quiet; the only sound is the occasional distant car passing by.

"Minjun seems to be getting attached to you," Minho begins, breaking the silence. "More than just as Y/nnie from work.” You nod, unsure of what to say, feeling the weight of Minjun's request weighing on you both. "I've been thinking about it," Minho continues. "About what he said in the car. It's not just that he misses you, Y/nnie. I think... I think he's looking for that missing piece. A family."

You meet his eyes, seeing the vulnerability there. "Minho, I-"

"I know it's a lot," he cuts you off, his voice gentle. "And I'm not asking for anything, not really. I just... I want you to know that you're already part of our family. If you ever want that, for real, it's yours. But no pressure. I mean it."

The offer hangs in the air, profound and sincere. You take a deep breath, feeling the significance of his words settles around you. You’ve grown to love Minjun and Minho, too, in a way that is more than just friendly concern.

"Thank you, Minho," you finally say, your voice thick with emotion. "That means more than you know. I love being with you guys. It feels like home."

Minho reaches out, his hand covering yours hesitantly. "That's all I needed to hear," he says with a relieved smile. “You can stay with him as much as you want to. There's no one else I trust him with as much as you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, your hand still feeling warm as he draws his own back again.

You stay a little longer, talking and planning for the coming weeks until the yawns get the better of both of you.

As you leave, Minho walks you to the cab he called, and the night air is cool and comforting. "Stay safe, Y/nnie," he says, leaning close to hug you. You hug him back, a little surprised. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," you reply, the warmth of his hug lingering as you drive away, the image of Minjun’s sleepy smile and Minho’s thankful eyes etched in your mind.

Tonight, Minho’s words feel true in your heart—you are part of their family. And as the city lights blur past, you realize how much you’re looking forward to what the future might hold. Yes, you're delusional enough to hope there could be something deeper than what you have now.

At first, you were still hesitant about staying with them so often, knowing how important it was for them to have some time to themselves. Over the following weeks, dinner with them grew into a part of your daily routine. You and Minjun spend a lot of time together in the kitchen, trying out new dishes, which makes eating a fun experience for the little one. This allows Minho to wrap up things at the company in peace, able to focus on himself for a little without having to worry about his little troublemaker. Minjun looks forward to cooking with you in the evening which makes saying goodbye to his father so much easier.

With all the cooking, you two start making extras for everyone. You know they have a fridge at the company where they store their personal stuff, so you and Minjun start filling it regularly. It delights them all, always finding a fresh meal for whatever time of the day or night if your name is Chan. It feels like you're not only part of Minho's private, small family but also his bigger family at work.

It’s been almost a month since Minho’s offer to be part of this family, and you didn’t regret it one bit. You all found your routine by now, and you had a spare key to their house, allowing you to get home earlier with Minjun. It means a lot to you that Minho trusts you when you tell him you’re taking his son home. Minho and you have grown closer, knowing how much it meant to both of them that Minho was sharing his home with you.

It’s getting harder with every passing day to ignore how much he means to you. How beautiful he is when he’s wrapped up in a blanket, hair messily falling into his face, a wide smile on his face as he’s fooling around with Minjun. How treasured the sound of his genuine laugh after a long day had gotten. How caring he is for both Minjun and now, to some extent you. How strong he is for his kid, making sure to excel both at work and at being a father when all he wants is to hide away sometimes.

Tonight, you and Minjun decided to make dumplings and surprise Minho with them for dinner. The kitchen is soon filled with the aroma of spices, the rhythmic sounds of chopping, and laughter. Minjun, your little bundle of energy, is sitting on a chair next to you, his eyes bright with excitement. You patiently show him how to prepare the filling, and Minjun watches, eager to learn.

“Okay, Minjunnie, you want to try mixing?” you ask, handing him a large spoon.

“Yes,” he nods quickly, taking the spoon with both hands. His attempts are messy but earnest, and you can’t help but laugh as a bit of the filling spills over the side of the bowl.

“Good job, buddy! Now, let’s make the dumplings,” you encourage him, showing him how to place a small amount of filling in the center of a wrapper. You demonstrate pinching the edges together, a technique that has taken you a while to master. Minjun tries to mimic you, his small fingers fumbling at first, but with each attempt, his technique improves. “You’re a natural!” you compliment him and get the sweetest smile in return. Once more, you realize how similar he looks to Minho when he smiles, cheeks grow squishy, eyes squint in joy, and the bunny teeth show.

Later, as the dumplings steam, Minjun's attention shifts to the window. "When is Daddy coming home?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"Soon, I think. He might be very tired, though. He had a long dance practice today," you reply, checking the dumplings.

As if on cue, the door opens with a soft creak, and Minho steps in, his face showing signs of exhaustion. Minjun runs to him immediately, almost tripping over his feet, wrapping his little arms around Minho's legs.

"Daddy! You're home!" Minjun exclaims, looking up with a smile that falters as he notices Minho's tired expression.

"Hey, little chef," Minho says, his voice weary as he bends down to scoop Minjun into his arms. "Did you make all these dumplings?"

Minjun nods proudly, and then his face turns serious. "Daddy, are you okay? You look sad."

Minho manages a tired smile. "Just a bit tired from practice, baby. But I'll be okay. Smelling those dumplings definitely makes me feel better."

You watch them, your heart swelling with affection but also concern for Minho. Lately, the dance practices have been intense, often leaving him drained. "Let's eat! I bet your daddy's hungry," you suggest, ushering them to the dining table where the dumplings were now ready, steaming hot and inviting.

The meal is cheerful, with Minjun chatting about his day and the dumplings he helped make. Minho eats with evident pleasure, praising Minjun's efforts, which makes the boy glow with pride. However, you notice Minho grimacing slightly every time he moves his shoulder.

After dinner, while Minjun is occupied with his coloring books, you approach Minho. "You're really pushing yourself hard, aren't you?" you ask softly, concern coloring your tone.

Minho sighs, rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, the new routine is tough. But it’s what I love to do."

You nod, your hands reaching out instinctively to his shoulder, your fingers pressing gently. "Maybe I can help a little," you offer.

Reluctantly, Minho agrees, and as your skilled hands work over his sore muscles, he feels the tension beginning to ease. The room is quiet besides Minjun's occasional hums as he colors and Minho’s low hisses whenever your fingers meet a tense spot.

"Thank you, Y/nnie," Minho murmurs, genuinely grateful.

"It's nothing," you reply, your hands steady.

As you settle into the evening, Minho watching Minjun draw and you tidying up the kitchen, you feel complete, having spent a day well. The night ends with Minjun falling asleep early, curled up on the couch with his favorite blanket in Minho’s lap. “I’ll better get going,” you say with a glance at the clock. “I’ll be late on set tomorrow; I have an important call about a possible photoshoot for you before…but I’ll make sure someone’s there to keep Minjun occupied until then.”

“Alright,” Minho nods thankfully. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“Always,” you promise and gently squeeze his shoulder as you leave.

The next morning dawns bright and early for you. After a quick breakfast and the call, you make your way to the set where Minho is filming the music video for the song with Chan. Today's plan includes picking up Minjun from Minho’s set and treating him to some ice cream—a little surprise to break the monotony of his dad's long shooting days.

Upon arrival, you notice the usual hustle and bustle of the set, but with an added layer of excitement given the complex scenes scheduled for the day. As you navigate through the crowd of crew members and equipment, you spot Minjun sitting near one of the monitors, his eyes wide with fascination as he watches his father perform.

"Y/nnie!" he exclaims, his face lighting up as he sees you approaching. He runs over, nearly tripping over a cable before you scoop him up into a hug.

"Hey, my little star! Watching Daddy work, huh?" you say, smiling as you set him down.

"Yeah, Daddy’s really cool!" Minjun responds, his enthusiasm infectious. You chat briefly about what he's been watching before steering the conversation towards the day’s special plan.

"So, how about we grab some ice cream after this? Just you and me," you suggest, watching his reaction closely.

Minjun’s face splits into a broad grin. "Ice cream! Yes, please! Can we get chocolate?" he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Chocolate it is. Let’s go," you reply, your heart warmed by his excitement.

The ice cream shop isn't far, and the walk there is filled with Minjun's chatter about the various things he’s learned from watching his father on set. You listen, amused and impressed by his observations and memory.

Arriving at the shop, Minjun presses his nose against the glass display, his eyes scanning the array of flavors. "Two chocolates, please!" he declares when it’s your turn to order.

With the cones in your hands, you find a spot outside on a bench. Minjun eagerly attacks his ice cream, and the chocolate soon smudges his lips and cheeks. You can't help but laugh, pulling out a few napkins to clean him up.

"Y/nnie, do you like being with me and Daddy?" Minjun asks suddenly, his tone serious, as he looks up at you with those big eyes.

"I love it, Minjun. Being with you and your dad is the best part of my day," you answer honestly, touched by his question.

Minjun nods, seemingly satisfied with your response, and returns his attention to the rapidly melting ice cream. "Good. You're fun," he adds, his words muffled by a mouthful of chocolate.

As you sit there, watching Minjun enjoy his treat, you reflect on the changes in your life since joining their little family. Each day has brought its challenges and joys, but moments like these highlight the beautiful simplicity of your new life.

About half an hour later, you decide to make your way back, not knowing what mess your little surprise caused.

Minho brushes a strand of hair from his face, eyes flickering to Minjun’s prior spot, only to notice he isn’t there anymore. He frowns and quickly scans the room, a shiver running down his spine when he can’t find his son anywhere. “Chan hyung,” he asks, terrified, grabbing his friend's arm.

Chan turns toward him, frowning, confused. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, seeing the fear in his eyes.

“Where’s Minjun?” he asks, and Chan glances around the room, not finding him either.

“Baby, where’s Jiho?” he asks Felix, who’s already looking. “Min, who was watching him?”

Minho inhales shakily, his hands trembling by now, and his stomach tightens in pain. “I…He was right there the whole time,” he says, pointing at the now-empty chair next to the cameras. “Hyung, he was right there and-.”

“Breathe,” Felix tries gently, wrapping his arm around him. “He’ll be okay, yeah?”

“You don’t know that,” he shakes his head, anxiously watching Chan, who’s talking to their staff and trying to figure out who had seen him last. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have stopped watching him,” he whispers, and Felix squeezes him gently. Chan quietly ushers their team from the set so it’s only them, and pulls out his phone. Minho braces himself on his knees and squeezes his eyes closed as a wave of nausea crashes over him. “I’m gonna throw up,” he whispers, and Felix soothingly rubs his back, reminding him to breathe. He exchanges a worried glance with his boyfriend, anxiously biting the nail of his thumb.

The door opens, and you step inside, accompanied by a brightly smiling Minjun, who’s carrying a small bag of waffles for all of them. You look up, startled, and notice how empty the room is now, as well as Minho’s anxious form. Is he having a panic attack? Minho looks up, and the moment his eyes meet yours, something in his anxious expression changes. The fear makes room for a sudden coldness you’re not used to, which quickly gets replaced by anger. “Where the fuck were you?” he asks dangerously low.

“Minho, what’s wrong?” you respond, confusion evident in your tone as you hold Minjun’s hand a little tighter.

Minho pushes himself to his feet. “You took him. Without telling anyone? That’s what’s wrong!” His voice rises with each word, the strain of the moment overtaking his usual composure.

You glance down at Minjun, whose smile fades as he senses the tension. “I…we just went for some ice cream,” you explain, your voice steady despite the rising anxiety. “Minjun wanted to surprise you with-”

“A surprise? By letting me think my son had gone missing?” Minho snaps back, his words sharp and biting. “You don’t just take him, Y/n! Not without telling me.”

Minjun’s eyes begin to water, and his lower lip trembles as he looks up at his father and then at you. “Daddy, I wanted to.” His voice is a whisper, drowned out by the escalating argument.

“Not now, Minjun,” Minho says, a bit too harshly, his focus still fixed on you. "What were you thinking, Y/n?" he snaps, his voice laced with accusation. "You know you're supposed to let me know before taking Minjun out!"

You swallow hard at the sharpness of his tone, your eyes wide with surprise and hurt. "I'm sorry, Minho," you reply, your voice trembling slightly. Fuck. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. We were only gone for half an hour."

But Minho was beyond reason, his frustration bubbling over. "It is a big deal!" he insists, his expression one of betrayal. “I trusted you. How could you just take him without telling me? What if something had happened? How would you explain that, huh?”

Your heart clenches at his words, the hurt evident. “Minho, I would never put Minjun in danger. You know that.”

“No, I don’t,” Minho says harshly, making you take a step back, your grip on Minjun’s trembling hand loosening. What?

“Let’s all just take a breath, okay? This is getting out of hand,” Felix suggests, looking between you and Minho with concern. “Minjun is safe. He was with Y/nnie, and they weren’t far.”

"Minho, calm down," Chan steps in, seeing the clear shock written all over your face, his voice firm. "He was just trying to help out. You're overreacting."

But Minho now turns his anger towards Chan, his frustration boiling over. "Stay out of this, Chan," he snaps at him, his tone cutting. "This is between me and Y/n. This is about my kid."

“Calm the fuck down right now, Min,” Chan says, his voice rising as well.

“Channie, baby, please,” Felix chimes in, fearing that his involvement would only make it worse.

You let go of Minjun’s hand, looking at Minho timidly. “I thought you trusted me with him. You left him at home with me all the time, Minho. How is that any different?”

“The fucking difference is I knew!” he yells at you at the top of his lungs.

Minjun flinches, the bag dropping to the floor. His face crumples, big tears spill down his face, and a loud cry ripples through him. Felix quickly scoops him up, walks a little away from the whole mess, and soothingly talks to him. It’s the first time Minjun has allowed Felix to comfort him when he’s upset, curling up in his arms.

You nod gently and shakily pull the keys to his house from your pocket. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to be such a fucking asshole,” you say, more calmy than you feel right now. “You just ruined his day; congratulations. Here, I won’t need them anymore,” you say, throwing the keys to his feet. “I’ll send you an email with your schedule for next week and make sure to find a proper replacement.”

“Y/nnie,” Minho breathes out, the reality of your words slowly settling in.

“Don’t Y/nnie me, not after this,” you shake your head and grab your jacket. “I’m sorry, Chan, I really liked working for you guys. You’re amazing,” you tell him before leaving, tears burning in your eyes painfully.

As soon as the door closes, Chan snaps at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Minho?!” he yells. “Are you insane? You just lost the one person who’s always been there for you. The one person your son felt comfortable around. You wouldn’t still be here without him; I hope you know that!”

“Fuck off!” Minho snaps back at him, feeling cornered.

“No, you fuck off! Minjun has no one to look after him when you’re busy except Y/nnie. Without Y/nnie, you wouldn’t even be part of the group anymore because you can’t fucking handle it on your own!” he says, and seeing Minho’s face fall, he knows he went too far.

“Chris!” Felix raises his voice at him, looking at him shocked.

“Well, thank you for finally being honest with me,” Minho says dryly, nodding to himself.

“Min, he didn’t mean it like that,” Felix tries gently as Minho makes his way over to them.

“Give me my son, please,” he says quietly. Minjun nearly screams as he eases him out of Felix’s hold. He flinches back, eyes filling with tears at the broken sound.

Felix worriedly glances down at the little boy clinging to him tightly. “Minjunnie, you’re gonna go home, okay?” he asks, growing anxious, at him shaking his head firmly. “Your daddy’s gonna take you home now,” he says, gently lifting him off his chest.

Minjun shakes his head, sobbing heavily, and holds onto his shirt tightly. “No, Daddy’s stupid!”

Minho carefully eases Felix’s shirt from his son’s hands and takes him into his arms. Minjun starts kicking, hitting his chest. Minho presses his lips together tightly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, holding onto him tightly so he won’t slip from his grip. Minjun wails in his arms, still fighting him as he carries him outside to the car. “I’m so sorry, buddy. Daddy’s an idiot,” he tells him shakily, the seatbelt slipping from his fingers repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, finally managing to buckle him up. He closes the door to the car and tries to hold back the sob threatening to leave him.

“You forgot your stuff,” Chan says softly, suddenly next to him.

Minho quickly wipes his cheeks with his sleeve and takes the bag from him. “Thanks,” he mutters, not meeting his eyes.

“Min…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he says carefully. “You’re doing your best, and we all know it. That wasn’t fair,” he tells him.

Minho throws the bag onto the passenger’s seat and shakes his head, sniffling. “It’s fine. You were right. I suck at this, and I’d do you all a favor if I quit until he’s older.”

“Don’t say that,” Chan says gently, shaking his head. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he says, voice breaking.

“Minnie,” he says quietly.

“Fuck, Channie hyung, I messed it all up,” he finally breaks down, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

Chan pulls him into a tight hug, swallowing at how hard Minho is trembling in his arms. “What happened in there, hm? You’re usually not like this,” he asks carefully, and Minho shakes his head with a sob. Chan chews on his lower lip, realizing this could possibly go deeper than he thought, considering Minho’s insecurities regarding raising his kid right. The question hung in the air, heavier than the silence that followed. “Look, I know you’re doing this whole parenting thing on your own, and you’re doing an amazing job,” Chan continues, soothingly rubbing his back. “But you can’t let your fear make you forget who your allies are. Y/n loves Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn’t just take him without any consideration of the risks.”

Minho’s eyes met Chan’s, a mixture of anger and sorrow battling within. “I know. I just... When I didn’t see him, all I could think about was all the things that could go wrong. He’s everything I have, Channie. He's my baby, and no one can just take him without telling me.”

Chan nods, smiling at him sadly. “I know, mate, I know,” he assures him. “Let me drive you two home, okay? You shouldn’t be driving right now,” he says, and Minho nods weakly. “Come on,” he urges him gently. Minho slips into the passenger’s seat, wiping his cheeks with his sleeves messily. Chan notices Felix a few steps away, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. “You’re coming with us, baby? We can take a cab from there,” he tells him, and his boyfriend nods quickly.

“You really think he’ll quit?” Felix asks timidly.

“Min? No, he-” he says, but Felix shakes his head.

“No, Y/nnie,” he says, chewing on his lower lip anxiously. “That would be the worst thing for Minjun.”

“I don’t know, baby,” he shakes his head. “That depends on Min and Y/nnie. We can’t do much; they have to be okay…but Minho feels like shit for it,” he sighs and kisses his cheek. “It’ll be okay, baby.”

“Mhm, maybe,” Felix nods before slipping into the back to Minjun, who’s still crying softly.

“L-Lix,” he whimpers and reaches for him again.

“Hey, buddy,” he says gently, taking his hand. “It’s okay, yeah? We’re taking you home now, okay?”

“O-Okay,” he hiccups.

Minho remains quiet during the ride home, silent tears running down his cheeks as he’s biting his lower lip hard. Minjun cries quietly in the back as Felix tries to soothe him a little.

They reach their house not much later, and Felix carries Minjun inside. He exchanges a long look with Chan before moving Minjun to the room with all his toys.

Minho's face is a canvas of frustration, marked by the occasional wipe to remove the tears running down his cheeks. Chan gently guides him to the sofa and sits down with him.

"Minho, man, we need to talk about what happened," Chan begins, his voice firm yet gentle, trying to cut through the tension.

Minho nods, not meeting Chan's eyes, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know, I know I messed up. It's just... when I couldn't see Minjun, everything went black. I panicked, Channie hyung."

Chan places a hand on Minho's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I get that, really, I do. The fear of losing Minjun is real and valid, but the way you handled it with Y/n wasn't fair. You trust Y/nnie, don't you?"

"I do, but at that moment, all that trust just... vanished. I just felt so out of control," Minho confesses, his voice cracking with emotion.

"It’s important to remember that Y/n cares about Minjun almost as much as you do. He wouldn't have taken him without considering his safety. But I think this goes deeper, Minho. This isn't just about today, is it?" Chan observes, trying to dig deeper into Minho's fears.

Minho sighs, a long, weary sound that seems to carry the weight of the world. "It's everything, Chan. The pressure of work, trying to be there for Minjun, getting closer to Y/n, and not knowing where the line is—it's all piling up. And today, I just... broke."

Chan nods, understanding more than Minho realizes. "You're not alone in this. You've got us, you've got Y/n…you need to fix this."

Minho wipes his face. "Maybe you're right. I need to handle this better, for Minjun and for myself."

"And you need to apologize to Y/n properly. He deserves that much, Minho. He's been here for you through thick and thin."

Minho knows Chan is right. The thought of facing you was daunting but necessary. He owes you an apology, one that acknowledges his overreaction and the hurt it caused.

Later that day, after taking some time to compose himself and gather his thoughts, Minho found Minjun playing quietly in his room. His little boy looks up, his face still showing signs of the day's stress.

"Hey, buddy... can we talk?" Minho sits beside him on the floor, his tone gentle. Minjun nods, his eyes curious and a bit cautious.

"I want to apologize, Minjun. Daddy got very scared today when I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t handle it well. I shouted, and that wasn’t right. I’m sorry for scaring you," Minho starts, his heart heavy.

Minjun moves closer, leaning into his dad. "Okay, Daddy… Y/nnie bought ice cream."

"I know, and it was a wonderful idea. I’m sorry for ruining it. And I’m sorry for how I spoke to Y/nnie. He didn’t deserve that. I’m going to apologize to him, too," Minho says.

"Do you still like Y/nnie, Daddy?" Minjun’s small voice is filled with worry.

"I do, very much. Y/nnie is important to us, right? I made a big mistake today, and I hope he can forgive me," Minho explains, hoping his son could understand.

Minjun hugs him tightly, "I forgive you, Daddy."

Minho chuckles softly, hugging his son back. "Thank you, baby."

Two weeks later

Life had once more settled into a stressful rhythm for Minho following the upheaval of his outburst and its emotional aftermath. Days morphed into weeks with Minjun by his side; each one layered with the joys and challenges of single parenthood, combined with his demanding schedule. Despite his deep love for his son, the strain of juggling his roles was evident.

Minho is preparing Minjun's backpack for the day, his movements automatic. The routine is well-practiced but no less draining. Minjun is playing on the carpet, glancing at his father suspiciously as he's preparing breakfast.

“Daddy, you okay?” Minjun’s small voice cuts through the morning stillness, his eyes wide with concern.

Minho pauses, taken aback by the question. “Of course, buddy,” he replies, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“You're tired,” Minjun says simply.

Minho sighs, the weight of his exhaustion settling deeper on his shoulders. He is tired—more than tired. Each day felt like a battle, each night a too-short break from it all.

Later that day, after getting Minjun settled, the effects of chronic stress, sleep deprivation, and emotional turmoil begin to manifest more aggressively. As he moves through the complex choreography, his steps start to falter, his usually sharp movements grow sluggish, and his focus wanes.

“Minho, take five!” Chan calls out. “You’re off today, man. Everything alright?”

Minho nods mutely, too spent to formulate a response. He retreats to a quiet corner, his breath uneven, his heart racing uncomfortably in his chest. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stave off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him.

Just as he felt like he'd be fine, a sharp pain clutched at his chest, his breathing growing labored, and the room seemed to tilt on its axis. Panic claws at his mind as he staggers, trying to call out for help, but his voice is a mere whisper.

“Minho!” He hears someone shout and feels hands steadying him just before everything goes dark.

When Minho regains consciousness, he finds himself on a couch in the studio’s lounge, surrounded by concerned faces—Chan, Jeongin, and Felix, holding a distressed Minjun. An ambulance siren wails in the distance, growing louder as it approaches.

“What… what happened?” Minho manages to ask, his voice weak.

“You collapsed, man. Scared the hell out of us,” Chan replies, his expression tight with worry.

The paramedics arrive swiftly, assessing Minho quickly. Blood pressure high, heart rate erratic, they murmur words like "exhaustion" and "stress" as they prepare him for transport to the hospital.

The hospital tests confirm what Minho had tried to ignore: he was suffering from severe exhaustion combined with stress. The doctor’s advice was obvious. "You need to rest, Mr. Lee. Your body is telling you it can’t keep up this pace. If you ignore this warning, the next incident could be more severe."

Minho lies back on the hospital bed, the sterile white of the room a stark contrast to the vibrancy of his daily life. The words hit hard, a sobering reminder of his mortality and the stark reality of his responsibilities as a father.

Chan, who had accompanied him, squeezes his shoulder. “You gotta take care of yourself, Minho. For Minjun’s sake, if not your own.”

“I know,” Minho murmurs, the gravity of his situation settling in. “I just… thought I could handle it all.”

Chan’s look is sympathetic but firm. “No one can handle everything alone, Min. You need to let others help. Maybe it’s time to reach out to Y/nnie again. For support.”

The suggestion lingers in the air between them, heavy with implications. Minho’s thoughts drift to you, your warmth, your laughter, and the comfort you brought to both him and Minjun. The thought of reaching out, of potentially being rejected, is terrifying, yet the fear of what might happen if he continued on his current path is greater.

Anxiously, Minho makes the decision to call you from the hospital, his heart pounding as he dials the familiar number. The phone rings, each tone echoing like a drumbeat in his tense silence.

“Hello?” you ask, cautious yet warm.

“Y/nnie, it’s Minho. I… I need to talk to you. It’s important.” His voice is unsteady, and his admission of need is a significant release of his tightly held pride. “I…I need help.”

There’s a pause, a breath held, and then released. “I'm listening.”

Minho's voice wavers as he speaks, the hospital's fluorescent lights casting stark shadows across his face. "I... I had an incident today at rehearsals. I collapsed," he confesses, the words tasting like defeat but necessary in their truth.

You suck in a sharp breath at his words. "Minho, are you okay? Where are you now?" you ask, your voice thick with worry.

"I'm at the hospital. They're telling me it’s stress and exhaustion. Nothing life-threatening, but...can you look after Minjun for a few days?” he asks, chewing on his lower lip as you're silent for a while.

“So you're suddenly trusting me again?” you ask dryly.

Minho takes a moment to answer. “Minjun does…that tells me everything I should need to know,” he says quietly. “I've been an asshole, okay? I know I was. Once I'm better…can we talk? Really talk?” he asks timidly.

You sigh softly, rubbing your face. “Where is he?”

“He's with Lix,” he tells you, heart racing in his chest as you didn't answer his question.

"Get some rest, Minho. We'll sort everything else out later," you reply, your voice a soothing balm to Minho’s frayed nerves. Shit, he missed you.

“Thank you,” he says, tears burning in his eyes.

“Just…take care, okay? Your little boy needs you,” you say quietly.

“I will.”

PART ONE | PART THREE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @zehina @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @queer-possum @james-is-here @roriiror @minholover1

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dehydrated-turtle · 7 months ago

Text

Pictures

//warnings// 16+, nsfw, mdni

//contents// Jason Todd x transmasc!reader, semi-public

//synopsis// Jason can't handle it when you sent him photos, no matter what they are. - 1.7k

//on ao3//

Jason absolutely loves it when you send him pictures of yourself. It does not matter what he was doing before, he will drop everything he’s doing to look at what you sent him.

This time, he’s sitting on a rooftop, waiting for something to happen on his patrol. It seems like a slow night tonight anyway so he pops a squat on a ledge of a random apartment building. He takes off his helmet revealing his secondary mask just so he could breathe better. Not that the smell of Gotham was any better than his own breath. He took out his phone and started scrolling out of boredom before a notification came up. A single photo from you. How enticing.

He opens the message, jaw almost hitting the floor in awe. It’s just a simple gym pic but holy shit. Your sweating frame in a loose grey tank and black gym shorts, nothing special but to him it’s everything. He could see your scars ever so slightly through the arms of the tank, it’s driving him wild that he can’t touch them, touch you.

His phone buzzes again, another photo. This time it’s more sensuous, a mirror pic with you in the bathroom of the gym change room with only a towel around your waist. Water droplets racing down your bare chest and the glass a little bit steamed. He feels his length start to grow just from your semi-scandalous photos.

He quickly glances around to see if anyone would be able to see him, quiet night after all. He starts to unbuckle his cargo pants and reach into them to pull out his half hard cock. He started to pump lazily as he searched the pic of you for the little details about you that would push his climax to come sooner.

He was rudely interrupted by another notification, yet another pic. It seems like you had just gotten home because you were in bed now wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Jason just couldn’t handle it, the sight was too much. Your perfect body just laying there, begging him to ruin it. Beseeching him to rip the boxers off your supple ass. He lets out a small and breathy moan as his dick jerks in his fist and lets out streams of cum, falling onto his chest and stomach.

“Fuck… now lookit whacha did.” He remarks, hurriedly trying to wipe the cum off of his kevlar suit, picking it out of the grooves. Even though he’s mad that he’s going to be picking bits of cum out for weeks, he still smiles knowing that all you had to do is send a pic and he's on his knees for you.

He picked himself up while checking the time. Seeing his shift is over, he hops onto his motorcycle and rushes home to you, hopefully still in those boxers that he so desperately wants to rip off of you himself.

Walking through the door with immaculate struggle due to the amount of excitement, he calls out for you to make sure you’re home.

“Upstairs, Jay!” you say from upstairs, obviously. He runs up the stairs, skipping every second step just to get to you sooner. He discards his jacket on the floor near the bedroom door as he shuts it. He turns around with hungry eyes to see you still in just the boxers from the picture. You’re on your phone but looking up at him with a smile. “Hey.” you whisper.

“Hey.” he whispers back, walking to you, removing his gear and just leaving it all on the floor. He was left with only his cargo pants before he leaned down to kiss you. “You have no idea what you did to me, sending those pics, pretty boy.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“You really wanna know how I came all over my suit on a rooftop, mid-Gotham?”

“I had no idea.” you say with a smirk, knowing exactly just what you do to him.

He feverishly removes his pants, almost falling over in the process and hastily jumps on the bed, right on top of you. His weight takes the air right out of your lungs, coughing and laughing and wrapping your arms around him as you roll over so you are straddling him now. You stoop down to his lips, taking them in your own, and brushing your hand through the hair on his neck. As you start to grind your hips onto his growing hard-on, Jason moans into your mouth, still sensitive from cumming on that rooftop. Your clit is rubbing against the seam along his boxers and you press harder into it, getting yourself off.

He almost can’t handle it, the sight of you above him, a moaning mess and getting yourself off on top of him. He might just cum again until you break the long and sloppy kiss to flutter your lips across his jawline and suck harsh bruises into his collarbone. He slides his hands down your back and underneath the waistband of your boxers to knead the flesh and muscle of your ass. In doing so, pushing you further into his hips. You let out a gentle moan as your bottom growth rolls over his dick, repeatedly.

“Fuck, Jay, if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum.”

“You’re not the only one…” He huffs out, panting into your shoulder.

“I need you inside me, please.”

“I think I have a better idea, my pretty boy.”

He flips you over with immense ease and strips you of your boxers, the cold air hitting your leaking folds. His large, calloused hands rested on the inside of your thighs, spreading them open and massaging them gently. His digits inch closer to your core but ever so carefully. He looks you in the eye before diving head first onto your throbbing cock, a loud, unrestrained moan flows out of your mouth. The room starts to fill with the sound of slurping and sucking as Jason bobs his head slightly bringing you closer to completion. You look down at the wonderful sight of Jason and his jet black hair with the perfectly white streak resting on your pelvic bone as he eats you out. His hands are still kneading your inner thighs and stomach in an effort to soothe you. He feels his dick jump in his boxers with anticipation, he moans onto your growth, sending vibrations throughout your entire body.

He decides now is a good time to add a finger or two to the mix. His digits sliding into you with ease seeing as to how wet you are. His fingers curl up to hit your g-spot every time he pumps them in, driving you mad. Your eyes are screwed shut and your head is thrown back onto the pillows and you’re a moaning mess, just the way he wants it.

“Oh, fuck… I’m cumming, Jay im coming!” you say, hands flying to grab his hair and push him further down on your cock. A familiar heat is bubbling over and your cunt starts to clench around his fingers. Your release sprays across his face in a stream of clear liquids, sparkling in the sparse light left in the room. He is not going to pass up this chance though and laps up as much as humanly possible as he continues to spasm his fingers in your cunt along your g-spot to entice more cum out of you. You mercilessly whimper under his touch, shaking from the overstimulation and pulling at his hair.

As soon as you come down from your high he’s already kissing little butterflies on your tummy and all the way up to your collarbone, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You hum approval into the skin on his shoulder, rubbing your palms along his back. You feel his length gently touch your thigh and start to grind into it.

“I can’t believe I made you squirt.” He chuckles into your hair, kissing along the hairline.

“Neither can I, I didn’t know I could do that.”

He giggles against your skin as you feel his dick throb into your skin. He is rutting into the flesh, begging for friction. His heavy body on top of you, like a weighted blanket, just making you feel safe.

“I want you inside me.” you state.

“Anything for you, my prince.”

Smiling gleefully, he lines up his dick with your entrance, brushing lines through the folds, spreading your slick before slowly pushing in. The warmth of you engulfing him as you slowly get used to his girth. His tip hit your cervix making your breath hitch as you throw your head back into the pillows.

“Shhh, baby it’s ok…” Jason coos into your neck as he kisses it, leaving faint bruises. He starts to rut and buck into your hips, balls slapping against your ass as he does so. He starts to go faster, slamming his tip into your g-spot everytime.

He grabs your hip for stability and to push you further down. He’s a moaning mess now, whimpering your name and how good you feel, how tight you are, how he loves you and all your parts. You’re grabbing onto his chest, leaving red marks along his pecs, moaning possibly more than he is.

“Fuck… I’m cumming.” He whispered.

“Cum inside me, please I need you… Jay.”

And with that, he shoots his long rivers of cum out, crashing into your cervix barbarously. The white fluid ebbing into your canal, flowing out at the base of Jason’s cock. His legs are twitching even more than his dick is and his head is burrowed into the crook of your neck, whimpering. The sound of him whimpering would come as a surprise to most but you know he's really just a slut for you and he knows you love it.

After a moment of sitting inside of you with his cock slowly deflating, he reluctantly pulls out. Your cunt seeming empty and his dick feeling cold and wet. He collapses heavily beside you with a large sigh. You roll over so your head is resting on his chest.

“God, you take me so good, pretty boy. I love you so much.” He muttered, kissing your head delicately.

“Hmm, I love you too, my big muscly teddy bear.”

#✮ turtle fics #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x trans reader #trans reader #transmasc reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd #red hood #smut #batman #batfam #batfamily #dc #fanfic #red hood fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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unreliablesnake · 1 year ago

Text

Give me a reason not to love you (John Price x reader)

Summary: Price falls in love with someone who's off limits. Turns out his feelings are reciprocated.

Note: Just a little something I wrote in a rush. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

“There’s this lovely girl I met the other day,” his cousin had told him three months ago, then showed him a few pictures from your Instagram account. “I’m meeting her tomorrow, I need you to be my wingman, John. Just throw in a few nice words about me, okay? Make me look like a good guy.”

He had done exactly that, telling you stories that showed you his good side, and sure enough, the two of you began dating eventually. At first he was happy for his cousin, gladly listening to his stories of your meetings, but at one point he became irritated by them. Yes, he was jealous. It took him a week to realize that, but after that there was no question about it. He found himself stalking you on social media, always checking your recent posts and photos to know what you were up to. And whenever he saw pictures of you and his cousin together, he angrily closed the app and put away his phone.

Going out with his dear relative when you were there was pure torture. John tried to get over you, he tried to ignore his feelings, but every time you smiled at him, his heart melted. You got under his skin so easily that he wondered if he could ever get rid of his feelings for you. And maybe he was hallucinating, but he could have sworn you were sometimes flirting with him. Gentle touches on his forearm, carefree laughs even at his worst jokes, and those damn smiles he hated and loved so much at the same time.

“Maybe you’re just this affectionate with people you like,” he told himself every single time, pushing his stupid thoughts away with a forced laugh.

At one point of one of these nights out he had enough, excused himself, and went to the bar to order another drink for himself. He needed a breather, he needed some time out of your gravitational pull. You were his cousin’s girlfriend, you were off limits. Someone then sat down next to him, their knee gently brushing his hips as he stood there. When he looked to the side to see who it was that couldn’t respect his personal space, his eyes landed on you. You were watching him with a smile, your fingers wrapped around the tall glass you had on the bar top.

“You’re stalling,” you said, your speech giving away that you were pretty tipsy by now.

“What do you mean?”

You drank a little with your eyes focused on him the whole time, but didn’t answer at first. “You always talk so freely when I’m away from the table, but every time I show up, you close up like a clam,” you said with a pout. “Do you hate me?”

This question took him by surprise. Did he really make it look like he felt that way? It sure wasn’t his intention. With a sigh, he took the glass of Scotch from the bartender and focused on that instead of you. “I don’t hate you,” he said eventually. “In fact, I have this stupid feeling that you’re flirting with me, and it’s hard to be around you when my brain makes things like that up.”

“So you picked up on it?” you asked him quietly.

His gaze finally fell on you, his brain in overdrive because he couldn’t believe you just said that. Even now you circled your fingertip around the edge of your glass while you watched him, the look in your eyes telling him he hadn’t been mistaken about you before. But why were you flirting with him when you were supposedly in a happy relationship? Why couldn’t you just be with his cousin without making a move on him?

John couldn’t take it. He excused himself and went outside, desperately reaching for a cigar in his pocket once he stepped outside and the cold night air filled his lungs. “Fuck,” he murmured when he struggled to light the cigar. Once he succeeded, he leaned against the wall and inhaled the smoke.

After a peaceful few minutes you showed up, alone once again, although this time you cornered him with a wide grin on your face. You were enjoying this, you loved toying with him like this, but why? Why couldn’t you focus on your actual relationship? When you put your hand on his arm, John flinched.

“You literally ran away from me,” you began, and despite your grin, you weren’t mocking him, you were only stating a fact. “I’m not going back to our table until you tell me what’s wrong. Yes, I know, you don’t hate me, you noticed that I’m flirting with you sometimes, but there has to be something else.”

He took a deep breath and leaned his head against the wall as he looked up at the night sky. Despite being under the influence of alcohol, you were quite good at recalling what the two of you discussed inside. He wished you were more drunk, he wished you just forgot about the whole thing and returned to your boyfriend. Then he would say goodbye to everyone, fleeing the pub and keep on drinking back home.

But you remembered. And you didn’t just remember, you also cornered him outside, out of your boyfriend’s sight. How on earth could he lie to you when you were standing there, looking up at him with this sweet smile? “Say it,” John said when he leaned closer to you after what seemed like an eternity.

You looked utterly confused. “Say what?”

He grabbed your shoulder and moved aside to change places with you so your back would be against the wall. “That you don't want me. I need to hear you say this so I can stop thinking about you,” he whispered when he leaned closer.

“You like me?”

But he wasn’t about to answer that question. “Just say you don't want me.” His hand was pressed to the wall next to your head, and the closer he leaned to you, the bigger the temptation to kiss you became. “I'm begging you. Say it.”

You reached up to run your fingers along his jaw. “I can’t. I don’t want to lie,” you told him quietly.

John let out a sigh and rested his forehead against yours. He was desperately trying to find a reason to get you out of his head, but you refused to tell him the only thing that could make that happen. Now he was torn between leaving you behind, going no contact with both his cousin and you, and staying here to finally kiss you. To finally have you in his arms. To pin you against the wall and shove his tongue down your throat in a messy kiss out in the open, risking one of his friends coming out and seeing the whole scene.

“Fuck it,” he said after a short pause and kissed you, a satisfied groan leaving his throat when he felt your hands touching his body anywhere you could reach.

When he finally pulled away, his blue eyes carefully watching you to see if you were still one hundred percent on board with this, he noted that you were a little too lost in the sensation. Your eyes were still closed and a small smile was playing on your lips, as if you were thinking about what just happened. And then the guilt hit him. He kissed his cousin’s girlfriend, less than fifty meters away from him. When did he become like that? When did he turn into someone who didn’t respect other people’s relationships?

“What now?” you asked without opening your eyes.

“I don’t know. Let’s see what you say when you’re completely sober, yeah?”

John wasn’t happy to say it, but he wasn’t about to make you leave your boyfriend when you were a little drunk. He didn’t want you to regret it later. So he decided to wait for a short while, hoping you would say you wanted him the next day too. As much as he wished you could stay outside together, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. They were probably wondering if he went home, so he threw the remains of his cigar away and took your hand to pull you inside. But the moment the door opened, he let go and acted as if nothing happened out there. It was a tough act, but it had to be done. He couldn’t take any risks.

#captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #mw2 #mw3

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bellafragolina · 3 months ago

Note

I loved the last hcs you wrote about taking care of the submas after a long day at work!! 🥰

Can I request the same for Larry? the poor man desperately needs someone to spoil him after a long day 😭

the man who needs it the Most shall Receive it!!!

🍓🍓🍓

Coming home is a blur. Larry usually has his moments of disassociation, tiredness encapsulating his poor mind as it struggles to keep up with every single thing he's been assigned to do, but this is very startling in and of itself.

When did you take his coat? Where did his briefcase go? His tie? How did you get his shoes off??

Larry blinks owlishly at you, watching in muted shock as you flit back and forth, his Pokémon and yours following at your beck and call. He briefly pictures you in a flowing dress, singing to woodland creatures as you await a true love to come and find you, like in the movies Poppy enjoys.

But no, you're not awaiting anything. You smile at him, your supposed prince charming, who's too exhausted to stop you from pushing him onto the couch so you can bring him dish after dish of steaming food.

He recognizes them all as the things he usually orders from the Treasure Eatery, but none of them are from there. No, he can see the slight changes and imperfections that come from someone who is more normal in the kitchen, like you. You made all of this.

You made all of his favorite foods, just for him.

"Eat." You command, striding back towards the kitchen with his Staraptor trying to nip at the sleeves of your shirt so you'll drop some food for it to gobble up. "Before it gets cold, Larry!"

Larry turns to the food, slowly picking up a grilled rice ball, and bites into it. It tastes like the ones from the Treasure Eatery, but. . .

He looks to where you run your fingers through Staraptor's features, praising the bird for a good day's work.

It tastes better. Way better.

Hunger grips Larry like never before. He shoves what he can into his mouth, trying everything to see if your touch is truly magic like that. And it is, soothing his tongue like no other dish he's ever tried in his life.

A call of your name pulls you from your Pokémon-feeding duties. You trot back into the living room, plopping beside your overworked man, a hand easily resting on the back of his neck.

"It's good." Larry hums, sighing when you begin to gently massage away the knots he always carries.

"I'm glad." You say, truly relieved he likes your cooking. It's no Treasure Eatery, you know, but you wanted to show Larry how much you appreciated his hard work (even though you were of the mind that he shouldn't have three jobs like this). "I want to make things easier where I can."

Larry pecks a kiss to your lips. You're so stunned by the sudden affection that you don't resist him putting a rice ball to your lips.

"Life is easy with you." Larry says, simple as that. Because it is. "Eat. You need to."

You just chuckle, taking a happy bite. Hopefully he's as pleased with the massage gun you plan to reveal to him after he's showered.

🍓🍓🍓

hope you enjoy!! i love him <3

~Renee

#pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #larry x reader

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xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx · 5 months ago

Text

look what finally remembered it has a tumblr account 💀 hi everybody

I drew a couple premades with colors based on albums that remind me of them, thought y'all would enjoy

nervous - who really cares (tv girl)

ripp - sports (modern baseball)

I ramble about them under here

janus shut up about tv girl challenge 💀 this isn't even really my favorite band lmfao I just feel like it suits nervous and pascal so well. there's this overwhelming vibe of longing in that whole album, like you had something wonderful and now it's gone and you're scared that that was the peak of your life, and it's all downhill from here. now it's just the memories and the bitterness and the things you left in each other's apartments. OUUGGH IM RGRGH AUGH

drawing-wise I like how nervous's drawing turned out. I have a tendency to absolutely destroy my colors and make them all muddy and blended so being limited to like five colors total and having to use the screen tones and dithering effects and stuff made it feel really... sharp, I guess? I don't like how it interfered with some of the details (like the face) but it was definitely a good way to tie everything together. main gripes with this one are the bandage on his leg (I know the blue is like symbolic or something but why is it so much darker than his skin it looks stupid) and the brick in the background because WHAT HAPPENED 😭 I finished this drawing at like 3am and I really thought I knocked it out of the park with that

ripp's is definitely worse though. the cover for who really cares is incredibly simple, but the one for sports is a whole picture, and I feel like I didn't lean hard enough into the yellows that dominate most of it. the piece looks nice, don't get me wrong; the colors are way richer than I usually would've chosen and it looks awesome, but... it doesn't look anything like the reference. which was kind of the idea. with nervous's, even though it's not incredibly similar to the album cover, you can see where I'm going with it. I don't think anyone would know that ripp's was based on the album cover unless you told them. I set myself up for failure the second I used more red/orange tones than the yellows and creams. whoopsie daisy I guess

I can't really pick out a single song that reminds me of ripp from this album, but I feel like the whole thing gives off "I need to get out of my hometown asap" vibes, as well as the weird awkwardness that comes with figuring out what to do next, which I feel absolutely screams ripp. go struggling small town boy! struggle to navigate early adulthood!

anyway idk I kinda hate both of them just because I've been staring at them for probably six hours combined and I'm about to explode

I might do more of these with other characters but there's not a lot of other premades that I associate with entire albums rather than random songs so idk we'll see

as a parting gift here's a shitty doodles of pascal and nervous as the dogs from twin fantasy by car seat headrest

(the words in the background are random lyrics from the album)

#sims 2 #sims 2 premades #nervous subject #ripp grunt #I ain't tagging the bands I kinda don't want people to see this shit 😭 ESPECIALLY not outside of the sims 2 fandom #I could never explain this

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dearlazerbunny · 2 months ago

Note

hii! idk if you take requests anymore but i js wanted to tell you i loved your if when then fic and wanted to request hcs for kyoya with a reader of average size that struggles with undereating and bad body image and dysmorphia? hope you’re doing well x

Sooooooo I missed the headcanon request and wrote a whole thing... apologies. Glad you liked if/when/then, it's probably one of my favorites :)

.....

Nothing fits. Not a single fucking scrap of clothing on earth will fit properly, which statistically seems impossible, but here you are standing in the mirror with fifteen plus discarded outfits flung across the room and the mirror that’s as tall as the ceiling mocking you because nothing. Fucking. Fits.

This is exhausting. And the night hasn’t even started.

You glance at the clock, and then your phone, ignoring all the group chats pinging off about the school dance you’re supposed to be attending tonight- everyone is sharing advice on makeup and hair, lamenting their new shoes are giving them blisters, arguing about who is going to dance with who first. The Host chat also has the same pre-event whirlwind that happens before just about any time the group gets together: the twins sending stupid memes, Tamaki screeching about last minute details, Honey wondering what flavor of cake to eat first, and Haruhi admonishing everyone for running late (also per usual). Every so often Mori’s icon will float in and out as he lurks among the chaos.

You go back to staring in the mirror, trying very hard not to throw yourself off the nearest available balcony. The Ootori estate has plenty of them, that’s for sure. You can take your pick of which ornamental piece of architecture would be best for dramatic effect.

There’s a quiet knock on the door, three taps made by the back of two long, slender fingers that you’d recognize anywhere. “Y/N? May I come in?”

“One second!” There’s a robe around here somewhere. Silk and chiffon and ruffled lace get shoved aside as you drape it over you, tying the waist ribbon just a smidge too tight for comfort. It digs into the skin of your stomach, rubs up against your bottom ribs just enough to hurt, but you can’t bring yourself to redo the knot. Once you’re covered, you unlock the door. “I’m good.”

Kyoya strides into the room already dressed, looking resplendent in a well-tailored suit and shoes that click ever-so-subtly against the floors. His tie is loose though, and his cuffs not yet buttoned, which makes you smile. No one ever gets to see him less than perfectly put together. That’s reserved just for you. “Tell me why I go to the trouble of planning these events to start at the same time every time, and yet everyone decides they must scramble at the last minute anyways.”

“Hmmm.” You pretend to look puzzled. “Two options. One, because no one appreciates your genius and brilliant event planning skills; two, because half your friend group are scatterbrained hyperactive teenage boys that are barely on time even with Haruhi kicking them in the ass?”

He smirks. “Clearly the answer is both.” He holds an arm out as an invitation and you take it, staunchly ignoring the flutters of unsettledness in your stomach as he wraps you into a hug from behind. He’s taller than you and can comfortably rest his chin on the top of your head. Him in his finery and you in your hair, makeup, and frumpy robe make a strange picture. “Are you almost ready? The car will be here shortly.” One of his arms stays around you while another reaches to gently trace a jeweled earring that’s shimmering in the low light. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs into your hair, and the compliment that normally gives you warm fuzzies does nothing but make things worse.

You give him a very fake smile, but it’s currently the best you can do. “Almost. Just- can’t decide what to wear. Too many options!” The laugh that comes out of you is absolutely pitiful and an octave higher than your normal voice. You pray he doesn’t notice.

“I thought you’d decided on this one?” A scarlet gown with a simple empire waist silhouette, some pleating along the bust, and two delicate straps that tie into bows and leave a gauzy, ethereal train of tulle draped down your back. It’s very Brigerton, Haruhi had mentioned in passing, and you were so excited she’d finally started watching the show (you’d been begging her for months!) you almost tackled her in the hallway wanting to discuss every detail. It's a good memory. You’d been so excited to wear it tonight. He pulls it from the haphazard pile of fabric and lays it out so the skirt drapes over the edge of the bed.

“I did. Thought I’d changed my mind…” you gesture to the dozen or so other gowns you’d pulled from various places. “I don’t know. Just…” you shrug, trying not to let your anxiety radiate into the room.

“Perhaps we just change the night’s theme?” His smile is light, teasing. “I’m sure showing up in our robes and slippers we’d certainly be the talk of the night.” It’s a joke. He’s joking. He’s kidding. And how could he know that the thought of any of these dresses even touching you makes you want to crawl out of your skin, or that your two layers of shapewear feel impossibly tight, or that the thought of anyone even looking at you in anything but a sweatshirt the size of Mori makes you want to scream? To your horror, tears start to form in the corners of your eyes, and you turn away, hands flying to your face. “I- Y/N? Are you alright? Are you hurt? What-”

“Stop, stop, please, I can’t-” you look up towards the ceiling, blinking rapidly, fingers under your lower lashes to catch the makeup threatening to run down your face. “Just stop. I’m fine. I just- need a second.”

He’d gone to reach for you but stops short. Hesitating. It takes an embarrassingly long time to get yourself under control, and quite a few more deep breaths that you’re hyper aware he’s probably counting. You’re fine. You’re fine. Pull it together for god’s sake, this is pathetic. Just put on a fucking dress and deal. You’re so lost in your own head that his hand brushing against your elbow makes you jump as though he’s frightened you. “Y/N. What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid. It’s really stupid, okay? And it’s usually fine and I can just ignore it but tonight it’s just really bad and I know we have to go to this freaking dance and I really don’t want to but just give me a second and I’ll put something on and we can go-” You have to practically gasp for air, swaying as the headache behind your temples pounds harder, and his hands go from your elbow to gripping both of your forearms to steady you. Ever so gently, he moves you to sit on the bed, ignoring your near panic attack with grace. He’s looking at you with such solemn eyes it makes you want to cry more. “Kyoya I swear I’m good, okay? I’m fine. We’re going to be late.”

“We will arrive exactly when we need to.” He sits next to you, making sure he’s close enough to reach if you want him, but not touching you in case you don’t. “What have you eaten today? The schedule has been hectic, I know.”

“No,” you mumble, knowing it’s not the right answer. “Because if I ate anything I was going to get bloated and then they’d fit even worse.”

“Do the gowns not fit? That’s easily fixed.” He goes into planning mode, pushing his glasses up further onto the bridge of his nose. “We’ll have something delivered. We have several designers on call- would you prefer something similar to these? Or a different style entirely?”

“They fit. I mean, they zip and everything. They just don’t- look good.” The tears want to make a comeback. “They don’t look good on me. I don’t look good. Okay?”

“Darling. I am certain that’s not true.”

“Well, thanks, but you’re not exactly an unbiased opinion now are you?”

“Y/N-”

You rip the red dress off the bed and hold it up over yourself like you’re playing dress up with someone else’s clothes. “I look bad, Kyoya! My chest is weird and my arms look fat and the color practically screams ‘look at me, here I am, everyone please judge every single little bit of me!’” You close your eyes so you don’t have to look at him and grip the dress so hard you’re definitely leaving wrinkles, but it keeps your fingers from clawing their way against your stomach in frustration. “When you dance, everyone watches, because of course they do, but that means when I dance with you they’re going to see everything that’s wrong and I just can’t- I can’t do it, okay? I can’t.”

Kyoya takes the dress from you, loosening your fingers until they can grip him instead of satin. His hands are cool, fingers woven tight between yours, and you can’t bear to look at him after what you’ve just admitted. “How long have you felt like this?” His voice is so, so soft.

“I mean- usually? Always?” You shake your head. “Usually it’s manageable and I can just not think about it, but sometimes it gets- bad.” You laugh a little, and it’s thick, like it doesn’t want to leave your chest. “Of course it’s always when it’s least convenient.”

“I love you.” You focus on his fingers, his grip, not loosening for a second, matching your energy.

“I know. I wish that helped.”

“Come here.” He pulls you forward, him perched on the foot of the bed and you standing in front of him. Those same cool fingers wipe your face, the pad of his thumb brushing your cheekbones. “You do not need to go tonight, if it’s causing you this much distress. The club can survive without you for one night, I assure you.”

There’s a little bit of warmth in his voice, and that manages to soothe just a hint of the storm raging in your chest. “And be jealous of all the pretty girls who get to have a song with you? I don’t like that option either.” You smile at him, just a little though it’s tinged with sadness and lingering frustration. “No matter what, I’m miserable.”

You both pause there for a moment, quiet, and in the stillness the situation and your emotions settle into something slightly more manageable. Still simmering, still present, but less threatening. How he does it, you don’t know, but something about him just… helps. It always does. You count his breaths with the slight rustle of his collared shirt, focus on the way he soothes you with a hand on your arm. You breathe with him. You let your shoulders relax, just a bit, then force them to relax a little more.

“Dances mean nothing when they aren’t with you. But you know that.”

You huff, but have to smile at him. A real one this time. “The entirety of Ouran Academy is devastated.”

He picks up the dress from where it was discarded to the side. Smooths the skirt, untangles the straps. Slides the zipper down. “May I?” You hesitate for a second. Then two. He doesn’t push you, and you know he wouldn’t blame you at all if you said no. But instead you untie the robe, shrugging it off. The shapewear covers you fully, but he still averts his gaze as he helps you step into the garment and pull it up onto your body. The zipper doesn’t hesitate and glides up your back, then hooks securely at the top. Kyoya ties the straps into bows, adjusting them to your liking, before leading you to the mirror once again.

The dress really is a pretty color. You’d chosen it partially because it would look good with his suit, and it does. The skirt falls the way it needs to despite the abuse you’ve put it through in the last hour. You straighten out a seam here and there. Kyoya watches you fiddle with the details, unjudgmental. “Tell me what you see. Honestly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Biased opinion and all?”

You roll your eyes. “Kyoya. Please.”

“Hmmm.” He appraises you as though you’re fine art, something valuable, and you can feel your cheeks flush under his gaze- though it’s a little more welcome this time. “The first thing I always notice is your eyes.” He puts a finger underneath your chin and raises it, making you appear more confident than you feel. “Whether they’re laughing, or stormy, or lost in thought. I always want to decipher them. Know what’s behind them. Then, there’s the hair that’s always out of place.” You unconsciously reach up to tuck it behind you ear, but he stops your hand and does it for you, tucking it back with practiced ease. “I love it, because it’s an excuse to touch you.”

“I usually notice your outfit, yes, but whether it’s an evening gown or your uniform or one of your old sleep shirts, the consensus is always the same. How you take over my thoughts no matter what. How I look for any reason to be closer to you. How I hope you know how beautiful you are. Perhaps I don’t tell you enough.” He won’t let you look away. “You are stunning. That never changes. To me, you are perfect. I cannot take your thoughts away, but I hope I can try to ease them whenever you need me to.” Another smile, so warm you almost don’t want the moment to end. “I have no issue lavishing you with how exquisite you are to me.”

“You are such a flatterer.” And he is, this is true. But the dress suddenly lays just a bit nicer around your torso and isn’t quite so tight in the areas you were fixated on before. The color seems brighter. It’s a little easier to breathe.

“Correct. But that doesn’t mean I lie.” A light kiss to your temple, and you lean into him, settling back into your own skin with far less anxiety than you started with. It still isn’t perfect. It might never be. But perfect to him, well. You’re not one to live your life for a man. But maybe that can be a start.

He helps you clasp your necklace and put on your shoes, doing the buckles for you so you don’t have to bend down. A pair of elbow length gloves gets added at the last second, thanks to that conversation with Haruhi. They both hide the residual trembling in your hands and look absolutely fantastic as Kyoya kisses the back of your palm. “As I said. Stunning.”

Another smile, which he returns. “Let’s go, before I change my mind.”

“Only if you promise to eat once we arrive.” He winks at you on the way out, so subtle you almost miss it. “I plan to keep my favorite dance partner busy tonight.”

#reader insert #ohshc #ouran high school host club fic #ouran hshc fanfic #ouran fic #kyoya x you #kyoya x reader #ohshc kyoya #kyoya imagines #ohshc x reader

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blushstarot · 4 months ago

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PICK A CARD READING: August 2024

What's in store for you on this August? A general, love & relationships, and money & career reading.

Disclaimer: This isn't meant as a detailed explanation on why, how and when exactly everything is going to happen, this reading is just so you can see the vibes of the month. Also in the love reading I use partner to refer to your significant other, so it applies to any gender/sexuality, but still I want to clarify that poly couples are included too, even if I don't talk about multiple partners in the reading.

Pick whichever picture you feel more attracted to and skip to that pile.

rant, poll and links at the end as always. Images by calendar print lab.

Pile 1

general: the emperor (reversed)

The emperor reversed could mean that an authority figure in your life is either abusing their power or being too authoritarian, but honestly I see it more as someone would try to give you some guidance and just coming across the wrong way because of the way there's phrasing it or taking into account their past behavior comes as not genuine and trying to be manipulative. On the other hand, it can also sign that you are (or will be) overthinking too much, and you need to find a way to get your self-control back, as well as bring more structure to your life.

love & relationships: the moon

If your are in a relationship... you might be doubting your relationship or feeling insecure about it, most likely this is due to miscommunication, which lead to arguments, mostly about old issues or insecurities. I would advice to ask to look into it with your partner and seek guidance before jumping to conclusions.

If you are single... this can indicate that someone you are seeing isn't being 100% honest with you, this doesn't mean that it's on purpose so they can trick you, it could honestly be because they're embarrassed or just want you to see them as someone cool, either way, be cautious.

money & career: nine of wands

In your career... you might feel like going to work/school recently has been more of a battle that has left you feeling tired and questioning if is really worth it, and the nine of wands is here to cheer you on, and tell you that it's okay to be tired and have doubts, but if you continue to give your all you will eventually find success.

In money... there will be unexpected expenses, if you are the type of person that has savings for emergencies, it's okay to use some of that money to deal with them. In the other hand, if you are the type of person who doesn't really save money, don't worry about it, you can try to cut back in nonessential things, or look for a way to earn a little extra money for the time being.

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 2

general: nine of wands

This month would be a struggle for many of you, but don't let that make you feel bad, gather up your strength and push through it, you will be successful in whatever you are facing and will eventually get what you want. This month is all about courage, persistence, and perseverance; you are so close to success so hang in there!

love & relationships: the moon

This is literally just the same as pile 1 btw.

money & career: three of pentacles

In your career... you will be putting even more effort, and all your hard work will be rewarded. You might also find yourself collaborating with other people in a project; if this sounds a little intimidating to you, try not to worry much about it, everything will go smoothly, so give your best.

In money... as said above, all your hard work will soon be rewarded, and if you are currently facing some struggles with money, all the time and energy you invested into fixing it will pay off.

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 3

general: five of pentacles

This month may have a lot of hardships in store for you, like rejections or negative changes in your life. You might feel as if everything is wrong and the world is against you, since the five of pentacles represents homelessness, unemployment, sickness, break ups, scandals, and many more negative things. However, this things in specific may or may not happen to you, but always remember that this bad situations are temporary and it's always okay to reach out for help when you are feeling down. It doesn't matter what kind of hardships come to you, you can (and will) overcome it, so don't lose hope.

love & relationships: seven of wands

If you are in a relationship... there are some challenges coming and you will need to put effort into overcoming them and you shouldn't wait for them to solve themselves, or let your partner handle it alone. The problems might come in the form of pointing fingers for who is to blame of certain issues, or come from an external party that is attacking one or both of you.

If you are single... you are (or will be) interested in someone, and you will have competition to get that person's affection, if you want to be with them you might have to put in extra effort to get their attention.

money & career: three of wands (reversed)

In your career... there might be a lack of opportunities to progress and in your job/business, so you might feel stuck.

In money... you have too much going on, take a moment to put your finances in order and keep a better control on what you spend your money.

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

A lot of wands, a lot of fire element on this month. Also I find funny that pile 1 and 2 both got almost the same cards, I get a feeling some of you really needed to see the msg and my deck wasn't about to let y'all skip it. Very fun reading to make overall, I'm just kinda sad that I ended up posting it in august already. Also for anyone who cares, I'm starting uni again this monday and depending on how things go, I won't have much time for planning readings, so please be patient and just know that I haven't abandoned this blog.

Anyway, I might change the images of the piles at some point, They don't really convince me, but I needed to get this reading out so I'm just letting them there for now.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think and if you want more readings like this.

You can find more of my PACs on my master list, and if you have any suggestions on future PACs you want to see me do, you can send me an ask. Curious about me? want to know how my blog works? want to look at more tags I use? you can see all that on my pinned post.

Bye byeee, have a great month ✨

#pick a card #tarot #free tarot #pick a picture #tarotblr #tarot cards #tarot community #tarot reading #pick a pile #tarot reader #pac #blush'starot #monthly reading

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calltocupid · 8 months ago

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some of my tim laughlin headcanons

he is incredibly good at art. (i know this is touched on in the book, but let me be.) he has cheap little journals that he can afford filled with various sketches of hawk. the tips of his ears and his cheeks always turn a dark crimson color when hawk catches him.

after meeting hawk, he has difficulty sleeping alone. he has to be at the brink of exhaustion in order for him to fall asleep without hawk curled around him.

he’s been wearing glasses since he was 6 years old. at first, he was embarrassed about it, especially with how mean kids can be. sometimes he still gets self-conscious about it, even in his older years.

he’s a morning person!! he wakes up every morning and either goes on runs or walks, especially in the summer time. he’s also a bit of an earth worm granola boy. in the nicer weather, he’s always finding little places to explore: hiking/biking trails, new parts of d.c./san fran that he hasn’t seen yet, etc,.

adhd tim!! it’s something he’s struggled with all of his life.

he loves to collect things. trinkets, pins, magnets, mugs. whatever it may be, he tends to keep it, as he’s hard time letting go of things that perhaps have a story to them.

he keeps every single card and letter he’s ever received from loved ones. it gets increasingly worse as he meets hawk, though. he holds onto everything hawk has given him.

all of the scrapbooks he has of his family are ones he’s made himself. one afternoon at fordham, he got really overwhelmed with studying, so he took a break to make some out of the pictures he’d kept in a box in his closet.

he was incredibly shy all throughout college. it was easy for him to make friends, but he was typically the one who had to be approached, otherwise he’d tend to keep to himself.

he loves the fall time. growing up in new york, him and his family would always do an immense amount of activities together as soon as september rolled around and the leaves changed. apple picking, hayrides, trips to salem, visits to the pumpkin patch where he’d always pick the most neglected pumpkin because he felt bad for it.

he’s been sensitive his entire life. he’s very in tune with other peoples emotions too, and he can very easily pick up on shifts in people’s behavior/moods.

he’d always tried to play sports growing up—baseball, soccer, even swimming—but he’s always been more creative than athletic. once his parents quit hounding him about it, most of his time was consumed with writing, reading, and art of various kinds.

he began to grow fascinated with history and government work when he was in 7th grade. he’d spend afternoons after classes in the town library reading anything and everything he could get his hands on if it was about those subjects.

the cross necklace he wears was a birthday gift when he turned 16. it holds immense sentimental value.

his first crush on a boy was when he was in kindergarten, back before anyone really realizes it’s a crush. but the one he really remembers was high school. it was a boy on the football team, about a year older than him, and tim can remember growing distracted in class from doodling him in the margins of his notes.

okay. i have so many more, but i don’t want this to be ridiculous. let me know if i should share more.

#fellow travelers #hawk x tim #tim laughlin #hawk and tim #hawktim

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callsign-datura · 11 months ago

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dancer x 141? like they pick reader up from her classes, see all her shows, and even help her with costume money blah blah blah 😋

I HOPE I WRITE THIS OKAY I HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT DANCING OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT Ghost doesn't quite understand what you're learning, but he's happy to support you either way. Whatever kind of dance you're doing, he's happy to watch you practice on your own, and he'll drive however far away to bring you and pick you up from your classes. Now, since you're such a hard worker, he'll pamper you. Buy some parts of your costumes and your outfits (particularly the shoes, hairpieces, accessories if you wear them) and even the whole damn thing if you're struggling with money. If you come home and you're complaining about being sore, he'll run a bath for you and make your favorite dinner. He makes a point to go to every single one of your shows and take a seat near the front, closest to the stage, but sometimes his job gets in the way. Usually he'll make it up to you by cuddling up to you in bed after and or watching a video that was taken of your performance. Soap supports you. Strongly. Like, he fucking LOVES that you're so passionate about something. Buys you things, asks you how your classes are going, and you always end up talking to him about something and the people you have your classes with. He's really sweet about it, but one thing he does is ask you when your shows are in advance so he can show up to them early to wish you luck. More often than not he shows up to your practices early so he can watch you finish and pack up before you go home. He always greets you with sparkling eyes and a strong smile. He wraps an arm around your waist when you approach, kisses your forehead and coos to you about how talented you are. Price is the dad type. I mean, most people think of him like that, so it fits. He always has that strong and silent demeanor, and that applies in public. So when he goes to see your shows, he's usually sitting in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest as he leans back; no outward approval from him during, but don't let that convince you he's any less proud or happy. When he's bringing you home, he's asking you all about your day and how the show went, if you had any issues with it... shows interest, like Soap, but less... fervently. Always tells you how good you did, though. He also helps buy your things, and he almost always buys two of one thing if he's worried it'll break. Is definitely the type to give you massages because it's intimate and he knows you're sore. Gaz is almost like Soap when it comes to this. Buys your expensive pieces. The body pieces, the shoes, sometimes buys the makeup for you and will buy you anything else if you ask. He checks your phone for the dates of your shows in advance so he can put them down for himself. Absolutely adores you in your outfits, so he asks for pictures of you in them. When he's going to your show, he's always smiling-- looking on with such a happy expression. Definitely goes, "That's my girl" once or twice. Supports you as much as he can, but he can't always bring/pick you up from your classes, and to make up for that, he'll listen to you rant when you come home. Will definitely gossip, and if you ask him, "You remember that one girl I told you about?" he will say, "The blonde girl who made fun of your costume or that redhaired chick who said you were too ugly to be a dancer?"

#ghost x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #141 x reader #tf 141

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 year ago

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Trust is Earned

Part 2 of Face to Face - I’m dedicating this story to @alicenter because her comment on the first part made me think of this story.

Summary: You weren’t used these types of comfort as you lay in a soft bed with to many pillows and blankets. Instead of sleeping, you walk around their house and see the memories they’ve built. But Melina accuses you of snooping and her distrust of you.

Warning: jealousy, fighting, bullet wound, distrust, family drama, mention of killing, mention of past abuse

Word count: 5.2 k

You stared up at the ceiling fan, watching it spin around and around. It was therapeutic in a way but you wished it would help you fall asleep. No matter how hard you tried, sleep wasn’t coming to you and you knew it. The bed was too soft, the room was too cold, and your mind wouldn’t shut up. With a heavy sigh, you swung your feet to the ground and walked out of the room. You weren’t sure what your plan was. But your feet walked you around their home. You saw pictures from Christmas, birthday parties, and trips to the capital. A tight feeling began to form in the middle of your chest. You picked up the old photo album from Ohio and flipped through the fake memories. It was a day you remembered so clearly, you shot Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation in one day. But Christmas was your favorite. All the brightly wrapped boxes that you knew were empty but you wanted to open every single one of them. Just for one moment, it would be real. “What are you doing?” You spun around to see Melina standing behind you. It was weird seeing her in a robe with slippers on but you didn’t miss the pistol in her hand.

“I was -”

“Snooping,” she grabbed the album from your hand. “Finding out all our secrets to report back to the Red Room.” Your eyes grew wide at the accusation. “So it’s true.” You snapped out of it.

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. “I’m helping SHIELD take down the Red Room,” she pointed the gun at you. You raised your hands, showing her you had no weapon on you. Now you were trained to be a weapon, similar to the train she’s gone through, but you were wearing Natasha’s extra sleeping clothes and you were extremely sleep deprived. Your brain was struggling to make sense of what was going on. “You don’t trust me.” You whispered.

“I want to,” she said. There was a slight shake of her hand. “I want to trust you so bad but I can’t,” your heart skipped and your stomach dropped. “But I know what they are capable of and I can’t risk the safety of my girls.” My girls. My girls. My girls. It was a mantra that echoed inside your head. All of a sudden, the room became too small and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. My girls. My girls. You weren’t part of that. To Melina, you were disposable. You weren’t sure what hurt more her saying that or you believe her.

“What the hell is going on?” Natasha asked, appearing out of nowhere with Yelena behind her. It seemed like they were a packaged duo, one wasn’t far without the other. You weren’t a part of that. My girls. My girls.

“So,” your voice stopped the arguing between Melina and Natasha. “What’s the play, Melina? Are you going to kill me and I’ll become another red mark on your ledger or are you going to bring me back to Dreykov and let him do it?”

“No,” Natasha said, standing between you and Melina. “She’s not going anywhere. She is staying here where she’s safe and we can be a family again.”

“Natalia, we can’t trust her,” Melina said. “She’s been with them for years. This could be a trap to get the three of us back.” Three not four but three. Once again she didn’t add you, creating a division between you and them. My girls. My girls. Natasha, Yelena, and Melina. You weren’t a part of it.

“She was with them because she gave herself up to save us or did you forget about that night?” You didn’t want to be the driving wedge between them. You’ve been alone for years, what’s one more night?

“Maybe Melina’s right,” Natasha whipped around to stare at you. “I could be a target and staying here endangers your family. I wasn’t thinking and I was being selfish. I’ll get my stuff and head out, find a hotel, or stay with the team.” You pushed past Natasha and headed to the room that gave you. Not your room. A room. My girls. Three not four. You started throwing your stuff into the duffle bag, not worrying about how it looked. You turned to leave, almost running into Natasha.

“You don’t have to go,” she said. “I’ll convince Melina. I’ll..”

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off. “I don’t want to get in the way between you and her. I’ll be okay.”

“I called Maria. She’s expecting you. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thank you,” you shifted your weight from side to side. “I should get going. I didn’t mean to wake you and Yelena.” You had to get out. So you did, leaving her in the room that was supposed to be yours.

Maria opened the door before you could even knock. “Saw you on the camera,” she said as you raised your eyebrow in question. “You look like you could use a drink.” You laughed, bitterly as she stepped out of the way. You entered the house. Phil was at the dining room table, papers covering it and you saw Clint in the kitchen making a pot of coffee.

“Do you guys sleep?” You questioned as Maria closed the door.

“Not when we have more questions than answers,” Phil said, waxing at you as his greeting. You sat down at the small kitchen island, dropping your bag to the floor.

“So we have vodka, tequila, or beer,” Clint said, pouring coffee into a mug.

“Is it good vodka or American vodka?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Clint glared at you.

“I’ve known Nat for a long time,” he said, pulling the vodka bottle out of the fridge. “Do you know I’d offer you American vodka?” It pulled a small smile to your lips.

“I’m glad she had you,” Maria sat down next to you as Clint poured you a shot. “All of you,” you clarified, staring into the clear liquid. “You were there when I wasn’t. Cheers.” The liquid burned as it went down. “So, what can I do to help?”

You were sitting on the couch going over all the information SHIELD had on the Red Room. It wasn't much but mixed with what Melina had the answer to the 101 questions had to be in here somewhere. You were twirling a pen in your hand as you read over Peggy Carter’s notes. Phil and Clint called it a night but Maria stayed up and she was doing a bad job of being subtle. “You're staring again.” You said, closing the file you were reading. You switched to beer after your third shoot.

“Just putting a face to fall the stories I’ve heard about,” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“They told you about me?” You questioned. The agent nodded her head. That was hard to believe.

“You don’t believe me?” You smirked. “It was mostly Natasha. She told me about Ohio and that night at the airstrip. The few times I was at their house I’ve caught Melina staring at your door. I mistook it as a guest room and almost got shot.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked, turning to face her.

“Do you regret that night?” She asked instead. You leaned back, resting your back on the arm of the couch and your legs crossed in front of you. “Do you regret giving yourself to him?”

“No,” you whispered. “And I’d do it again. In any lifetime, I’d do anything to protect my sisters,” you took a sip of the beer. “I’d sell my soul a thousand times to the devil to keep them safe. I think that’s why it hurts so much that Melina doesn’t trust me,” you rubbed your hand across your face. “But once he’s gone for good, they’ll be safe and be a family again.” You turned to get back to work, ignoring the frown on Maria’s face.

“They’re your family too,” you closed your eyes, taking in a slow shaky breath and letting it out.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “Once upon a time, they were. They’ve made a life here and I don’t know if I fit into it. I’m disposable.”

“Can you please talk to me?” Melina asked, pouring two cups of coffee for her and Natasha and orange juice for Yelena. Natasha was cutting up a pepper to throw in an omelet that asked for. She was cutting the vegetable a little too aggressively but it was the best way to give her anger an outlet.

“There is nothing to say,” Natasha mumbled, putting the peppers into the pan.

“You have to see it from my perspective,” the older Black Widow said. “My priority is to keep you girls safe.”

“Who is watching out for her?” Natasha hissed. She cleaned the knife before putting it away in the correct place. “We should have gone back for her.” She had so much guilt eating up inside her from that night. The gunshots that hit the plane kept her up at night.

“How?” Melina questioned, starting on Yelena’s lunch. “Please tell me how we could have saved her,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Your sister knew the consequences when she locked us out of that plane.”

“Now we have a chance to be a family again,” she placed the omelet on the plate. “But you don’t trust her. What's it going to take?” Before Melina could answer, Yelena entered the kitchen. She sat down in front of the omelet and orange juice.

“Do you think I’ll still be able to play tomorrow?” Yelena asked, cutting into the food. “Will it be safe?” Natasha grabbed the mug that Melina poured for her.

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “After I drop you off at school, I’ll regroup with the team. There will be an agent stationed outside the house and at your school.”

“What about you?” Yelena frowned.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured her sister with a smile. “I’ll be with Maria or Clint at all times.” She nodded, pushing her food around her plate. Something else was bothering her, it wasn’t hard for Natasha to notice the change in her sister’s behavior. “What else is wrong?”

“What about Y/n?” She questioned. Now that was a great question. From what Maria told her, you refused a protection detail and were sounding self-destructive.

“She’ll be with me,” she said, ignoring the look on Melina’s face. “Once this is over, we’ll all be safe.”

You were standing in the kitchen, buttering a bagel. “Are you okay?” Clint asked. You didn’t look at the SHIELD agent.

“Yes,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Because it looks like you are going to murder someone with that butter,” you smirked, rolling your eyes. “I think you could.” Oh 100% but it would be a messy way to kill someone and not a cool way to die. The front door opened and Natasha walked in. Her green eyes immediately found you. They screamed ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Please talk to me.’ You smiled, nodding your head. You hoped it conveyed everything you were feeling. “Ready to meet the boss man?” Clint asked, following you to the couch.

“Yeah,” you said, standing behind the couch while Clint sat down to join the others.

“Just don’t say anything stupid,” Natasha teased. You gasped in mock offense.

“I would never,” you smiled as Maria accepted the video call. The screen changed to a man with an eye patch wearing a trench coat. An odd outfit you thought.

“So,” he said. “This is the infamous Black Widow,” you took a bite of your bagel. “I’m guessing you know who I am.” You nodded.

“Nick Fury, the director of SHIELD.

“Also the reason you aren’t in custody or buried 6 feet under.” A smirk formed on your lips.

“Are you expecting a thank you, sir?” You questioned. You heard Natasha let out a small groan. He folded his hands and leaned back in his chair.

“What I’m expecting is for you to help take down the Red Room and follow every order my agents give,” he said. “Or I will pick one of the numerous countries that you're wanted in and drop you off.” Fair enough. You shrugged.

“Sounds like a fair exchange,” you said. “And after the Red Room is gone and Dreyokv is dead, what is going to happen to me?” Natasha offered you a spot at SHIELD but she wasn’t the boss. The man in front of you was. Similarly, another man held your fate.

“Well, that’s up to you,” he said. You raised an eyebrow, not expecting to have a choice in the matter. “Depending on the outcome of the mission, I’ll be offering you a position at SHIELD.”

“If I were to turn down your generous offer?” There was an intense stare-off between you and the Director. But to your surprise, the man smiled. Or it was something close to a smile.

“I like you, Widow,” he said. “I think we’ll get along well.”

It was lunchtime. Yelena was sitting outside with a few of her friends. She was stressed, on edge, that much you could tell. She was glancing over her shoulder, barely eating her food or engaging in the conversation around her. You made out the SHIELD agent assigned to your sister. Taking a sip of your coffee, you made note of the surrounding area. The school was across the street from a neighborhood, an odd place to put a school you thought. A wooded area surrounded the small sports complex and there was a parking lot in front. You opened your laptop and pulled up a satellite image of the school. It was clear and you looked back at Yelena. She was talking to a girl, and whatever she said made the girl’s cheek blush. You smiled, shaking your head with a laugh. This is why you locked them out of the plane so they could have a normal life - go to football games, flirt with people, and smile. You were being honest with Maria, no matter what you’d keep them safe. So when the same two girls walked past the car for the 3rd time something wasn’t right. You were a trained spy, able to sneak into government buildings and take down countries. Your gut instinct kept you alive. Carefully, you opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pistol, your widow bites, and a hat. You put the hat on and attached the gun to your hip, covering it with your sweatshirt. As you listened to your phone ring, you got out of the car. “Where did you go?” Natasha asked.

“Yelena’s school. Send back up,” you didn’t flinch as the gunshot rang out, hitting the SHIELD agent. “I’ll get her safe,” you told her. You began to run as the school erupted into chaos, pushing past students and school officials. “Hurry.” You put your phone in your pocket. Yelena stood up from the table, looking around in a panic. A scream left her lips as the girl next to her was shot. You got to her, pulled her to the ground, and flipped the picnic table on its side. It wasn’t the best cover but it was the only option. “Hey, hey,” she had blood splattered on her face and her green eyes were wide and frantic. “Eyes on me, okay?” With the sleeve of your shirt, you tried to clean up some of the blood on her face. She nodded. “I’m going to get you out of here and SHIELD is on their way.” Another shot and Yelena squeaked.

You grabbed a small makeup mirror and opened it, using it to see behind the picnic table. There was a sniper on top of the school and a small group of Widows swarming the parking lot. You pulled out your pistol. “On my mark, you are going to run towards the school.” You looked at the blueprints of the building, the cafeteria was through the closest door, and down the hall was the gym. That was your best option.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. You nodded.

“I know but you’ll be okay. Reader?” She nodded. “Go!” You popped up and aimed for the sniper. You weren’t aiming to kill just to disarm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yelena run towards the school. With the sniper taking cover, the Widows on the ground ran over to you. You fired some shots at them before following Yelena. They shot back.

Yelena was standing in the cafeteria waiting for you. “Where are we going?” She asked as you grabbed her arm and dragged her along.

“Gym,” you told her. “We can circle back to the front to get back to the car.” Glass shattering echoed the quiet hallway. You turned around and saw 2 Widows in the hallway. “Fucking hell,” you mumbled, running towards the gym. Like the hallway the gym was empty. “Hide behind the bleachers,” you said. “Don’t come out until I say so.” She ran behind the bleachers without hesitation. You had just enough time to reload your magazine as the two Widows walked in.

“Gde ona (Where is she?)” One of them asked. You didn’t recognize them so they must be a lower level than you.

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” you were accepting the hit to your stomach but the air was still knocked out of your lungs. You stayed on your feet as they circled you, mimicking a lion and its prey. But you knew the real roles here, they weren’t going to kill you or Yelena.

“We don’t want to hurt you, sister,” your heart skipped. They were your sisters brought together by blood and violence.

“Funny,” you said. “I was thinking the same thing.” You shot one of them with your widow bites and she went down easily. You dogged the attack, dropping to the ground and sticking out your leg. She fell but she grabbed onto your leg and threw you to the ground. You hit your head hard against the wooden gym floor. You both stood up slowly, facing each other. “I’m sorry,” you charged her, tackling her to the ground. She fought against you, hitting you but you were stronger. It was one quick punch and she was out cold. You fell back, your heart pounding in your rib cage as you stared at the unconscious Widow. “You can come out Yelena,” you said, standing up. The blonde walked out from behind the bleachers.

“Are you okay?” She asked. You nodded.

“Yeah,” you said, placing your hand on her back. “Let’s get out of here.” You ran out of the gym but there was a nagging feeling in the back of your head. They were too easy to take down. The girls were around Yelena’s age so they weren’t experienced. Why did he send them? “My car is over there,” you said, opening the door and pointing towards the direction of the car. The front of the school was still in chaos. “Let’s go,” you put the hood of Yelena’s jacket up to try to cover her face.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The apology took you by surprise. It was something you weren’t expecting, especially from her. “I’m sorry you had to hurt them to protect me.”

“I’ll do anything to protect you and Natasha, okay?” She nodded but you could still feel the guilt radiating off of her. You saw the Widow across the street and you pushed Yelena to the ground as the gun went off. The pain wasn’t bad as the bullet hit your stomach. Without thinking you raised your pistol and shot the Widow. It was a quick and easy kill but it somehow hurt more than the bullet.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you hissed as Yelena pushed her hands on the gunshot wound.

“I’m okay, not my first time getting shot,” you joked. “I need you to drive. Can you do that?” Her face was drained of color but she nodded. “Good,” you handed her the keys and got into the car.

“Where are we going?” Yelena asked, her hands stained red and shaking.

“The safe house,” you said. “Drive.” She did as sirens began to echo towards the school.

You squeezed your eyes shut as Phil dug to get the bullet out of your stomach. The door to the safe house opened, you had half the mind to grab your gun but you heard Melina’s voice asking if Yelena was alright. Natasha and Maria walked over to you. You were only wearing a sports bra and jeans, sitting in the dining room. “She's gonna pull through, doc?” Natasha teased but you didn’t miss the concern in her eyes.

“No exit wound,” Phil said, not looking up. “I have to get the bullet out before she heals.”

“Super soldier serum,” you hissed. “We are giving it before graduation. Fuck, have you ever done this before?” You asked him.

“Move out of the way before you do more damage,” Melina said, putting on gloves and taking the scalpel out of Phil’s hand. The agent moved out of the way, stealing a glance at Natasha.

“Phil, go check in with Clint and see if he’s found anything,” he nodded, taking off his gloves. “Go talk to Yelena and get her statement,” Natasha hesitated but you nodded. She went to join the blonde on the couch. “I’ll be back to get your statement when you're all patched up.

“Aye, aye, captain,” you gave her a salute. It was just you and Melina. You were surprised how gently her touch was when she tried to get the bullet out of your stomach. “I thought you didn't trust me,” you said. “Surprised you are allowing yourself in such a vulnerable position.” She got the bullet out and placed it on the paper towel. She cleaned the wound before stitching it up.

“If you wanted me dead you would have killed me the moment I opened that door,” you chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. “Thank you for saving her.” She placed a bandage over the stitches.

“No need to thank me,” you whispered. She took a step back and looked at you. Even with the serum rushing through your veins, it didn’t hide your scars. Each scar had a story, a name behind who gave it to you. These scars that littered your body were from other Widows during training, from Dreykov, and a few from your hand. You hated how small you felt under her eyes.

“Where did you get this one?” She asked, touching a scar on your shoulder.

“I got hit that night flying the plane,” you stood up, winching as you felt the stitches move. The serum would have healed soon. You helped her clean up the medical supplies. “Still managed to fly to Cuba much to Alexei’s disappointment.” You walked into the kitchen, throwing away the trash. Natasha and Yelena were on the couch and you found a new shirt resting on the back. You put it on. “Only thing that kept me going was your and their voice.” You continued. You rested your hand on Yelena’s shoulder, she looked up at you. “Are you okay, malen'koye solnyshko (little sun)?” She nodded.

“I am. Thanks to you,” you kissed the top of her head before heading back into the kitchen. Natasha and Yelena followed you. You were surprised by how hungry you were.

“The entire flight I thought Alexei was going to shoot me. I’ve never seen him so angry,” you continued unsure why you were telling them. The words kept following you. “Want a sandwich?” You asked them. Melina and Natasha shook their heads but Yelena let out a quiet, “Yes, please.” “When we landed in Cuba, I stood in front of Dreyokv, Alexei behind him, and guards circling us with their guns drawn. I stood there, unarmed, with a bullet hole in my shoulder.” You cut Yelena’s sandwich in half and placed it in front of her. You began to make your own. “Dreyokv asked where you guys were and I said I didn’t know. Alexei said he’d deal with me,” you felt a chill down your spine. “But Dreykov stopped him and said he knew how to handle me.” You turned your back to them so you wouldn’t have to see their expression.

“What did he do to you?” Melina asked. You closed the fridge, no longer feeling hungry.

“What didn’t he do to me is the better question,” you walked back over to them, eyes glued on your sandwich. You didn’t want to go into too much detail. Yelena was still so young and you didn’t want to taint her view of the world. “I was his malen'kiy pauk (little spider). He wanted to break me but I wouldn’t break.” You took a bite, it tasted bad but you knew you needed the energy. You glanced up at Melina. Her expression was hard to read, it was a strange mix of anger, sadness, and guilt. You shrugged. “But once he’s gone, everything will go back to normal.” You finished the sandwich and put your dish in the sink. “I’ll be in the room Maria gave me if you need anything.” You quickly left, closing the door behind you. Resting your head against the wooden door, you let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes. You could feel his hands on you as you knelt in front of him or one of his advisors. The blood that covered your hands was because of that man. But you weren’t the only one trapped and hurting because one man believed he was God.

“We found this,” Clint said, placing a piece of paper on the table.

“What does it say?” Fury asked. He was videoing in for this meeting.

“Come home, malen'kiy pauk (little spider),” Natasha said. Your sisters and Melina looked at you. You leaned back in the chair, hand on your chin. He wanted you back. Time and time again, he told you you were his most prized possession.

“Okay,” you finally said. “If he wants me then he can have me. We can use it as a trap.”

“There is no way it will be that easy,” Clint said. It won’t be. But you were done with this cat-and-mouse game you were playing.

“It won’t be,” you said, standing up. “He could have sent Widows much stronger than he did but he didn’t. Everything that man does has a purpose.”

“What was his reasoning?” Maria asked. You put your hands on your hips.

“To prove a point,” you whispered. “It said that no matter where we go or what we do he has the power to find us,” you faced Fury. “Dreyokv’s daughter is our way to him and we know she’s in Budapest. I’ll end it there.”

“No,” Melina said. Your head whipped to look at the older Black Widow. “You aren’t doing this alone.”

“She’s right,” Natasha added. “We’ll help you take him down.”

“Alright,” you looked back at Fury. “Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow.”

A plan was made and you were folding your clothes into your duffle bag. You found the photo strip and you picked it up, sitting on the bed. You remembered that day so clearly. Melina and Alexei brought you and your sisters to the mall to get school supplies. You pleaded for a few quarters to do the photo booth. In the end, it was Yelena’s puppy dog eyes that caught them breaking. “I’m sorry,” you looked up to see Melina. The apology sounded so strange coming from her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you and wasn’t strong enough to save all three of you back then,” you stared at her, mouth open slightly as she walked in and sat down. “I cycled through the Red Room so many times before you were even born. For the longest time, those walls were all I knew and I was never given a choice. Until a 14-year-old girl gave me one,” you smiled, whipping away a tear that fell. “Natasha and Yelena were all I had for the longest time and I’d do anything to protect them.” You nodded.

“I get it,” you whispered. “I’m disposable.” Melina’s eyes grew wide.

“No, dorogoy (sweetheart), you are not,” she cupped your cheeks in her hands, pushing the tears away that fell. “You are…” she paused. “Everything. You are the reason I am here, the reason Yelena gets to graduate high school, and the reason Natasha won’t admit her feelings for Maria,” you laughed at Melina’s jab at your sister. “So, thank you. Even though it’s been a long time, you are still part of this family. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding your head. You whipped away your tears. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” She frowned, looking down at her hands.

“Why does a mouse born in a cage run on that little wheel?” You didn’t know the answer or if she wanted you to respond.

“But you aren’t a mouse, mama. You were just born in a cage but that’s not your fault.” Melina scoffed, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Tell me, how did you keep your heart?” It was your turn to think over what she said. You smiled.

“Pain only makes us stronger,” you quoted her. It was a common phrase thrown around in Ohio. But the strongest memory of it was the night you left. Yelena was chasing you and Natasha and she fell and hurt her knee. “Didn’t you tell us that? What you taught us kept me alive.”

You were up when you heard a soft knock on your door. Standing up, you opened the door and saw your two sisters. “Is everything okay?” Natasha looked nervous, shifting her weight. Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” Yelena asked. “With the shooting and everything that is going on, we're scared and worried.” You smiled, stepping out of the way so they could come in. After closing the door, you joined them. Yelena was in the middle, you, and Natasha on either side of her. It was how you would lay back in Ohio. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” You stole a glance at Natasha.

“Of course, we will be,” you said, running your fingers through her blonde hair. It was a dangerous promise.

“Because we’re together,” Natasha looked at you with a smile.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Sometimes in our lives, we will have pain and sorrow but if we are wise we know that there’s a tomorrow.” Yelena smiled.

“Lean on me. When you're not strong.”

“I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on.” Natasha added. Like when Melina told you that pain only made you stronger, it was common for you to say a phrase or two when your sisters were struggling with nightmares or in school. You were surprised they remembered it.

“Exactly,” you said. “Now, we need to get some sleep. We have a busy few days ahead of us.”

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