#I have no doubt he put a LOT of thought into this decision

[musette22]

Hi friends, just a quick message about the Seb in The Apprentice situation. I've (understandably) been getting quite a few messages about it, most of them wondering why on earth Seb had to take this role, and also expressing concerns and hurt about the whole thing. I absolutely hear all of you, and really feel for those of you who are worried and upset. I am too, to some extent, but I know it's far worse for some of you who have been directly affected by this despicable man's actions and influence. I'm so sorry this is bringing back awful memories and emotions, and that it's tainting what should be your safe space and/or escape. That genuinely sucks, to put it mildly 😔

While I always try to make sure that this blog remains a positive and safe space as much as possible, this is something that I couldn't help but express my own concerns about as well. However, I have done that now, and I feel like for the moment, that's all the attention I want to devote to it. The more we talk about it, the more negativity it seems to garner, and that's doesn't feel beneficial to anything. So for the moment, I won't be replying to any more asks about this situation, at least not until we have more substantial information about the direction this movie is taking and what its goal is. I hope that's okay. Thank you for understanding, and I'm sending lots of love and hugs to everyone who needs it ❤️

[lexirosewrites]

Day 14: Second Chance Romance

for @stmarchmm

Widows are supposed to have their time to grieve. They should be allowed to cry and adjust to their new life in peace, mourning their spouse in private.

Steve doesn’t mourn because he never loved his alpha in the first place.

But he’s not given any time before being sold off again regardless.

“I married Henry because you forced me to. I stayed with him as you asked. I was a good omega and faithful wife even though I had no choice. Why are you doing this to me again?” Steve dares to ask his parents.

He’s not distressed about Henry’s sudden death, but it’s too much all at once.

Leaving his home for the past ten years was a lot. Packing up and returning to Hawkins with the hopes of being accepted back into his family’s house was the minimum he had expected.

They haven’t even given him time to unpack before breaking the unhappy news.

“Steven, he can provide for you,” his mother states.

“I don’t care what kind of man he is! I obeyed your wishes once already. Can I not have a moment alone before you put me back to auction like the prized bitch you’ve made me into?” he snarls out.

Ten years with Henry has made him less docile, less willing to comply blindly.

Compliance has only ever offered him heartbreak.

Mrs. Harrington flinches back, seeming surprised by her son’s reaction. As if she was sure Steve would quietly agree to this.

As if she hadn’t stolen him away from the alpha he planned to spend his life with a decade ago.

She and his father ruined his life, selfishly destroyed his love.

They’d had his secret suitor arrested for daring to touch Steve without their permission. Then they’d only agreed to have Eddie released if Steve was obedient in marrying Henry.

He’d had no choice but to give up his personal freedom for the only man he’d ever truly loved.

And Eddie… ran away.

Now they have the gall to act surprised by his rage.

Henry dying was supposed to be Steve’s ticket to starting over anew. Eddie’s long gone, but he could still be an independent omega with his own life.

No pups with Henry to tie him down or keep him locked away at the Creel estate.

“Steven, come now, you’re being unreasonable. You haven’t even met your new alpha,” his father chastises. “He paid more than double your asking price and will no doubt keep you in comfort.”

They’re slightly more civil than they used to be, but Steve’s older and less afraid of them now too.

“I won’t do it. Henry didn’t care that I wouldn’t accept a mating bite, but what of this new one? Did you even ask him? Did you even think of me?” he challenges.

They have the nerve to look ashamed, but they give no real response to the questions.

It’s all he needs to hear to know their answers.

Steve lets out a shaky breath, attempting to calm himself. Maybe he’s gotten through to them and they’ll reconsider their decision.

This argument is fruitless either way.

He returns to his old room for the evening. It’s become guest quarters now, but it’ll do until he can make other arrangements.

It’s no surprise that he rests fitfully, mind full of anxiety over the future Steve’s parents are planning.

From the moment he presented as an omega, they’d only ever seen him as a burden and something to be profited from.

A meal ticket for them, rather than a beloved and cherished child.

That’s a key part of why Steve refused to have children with Henry. Henry was from an old family with traditional values like his own.

Steve was his obedient wife and any pups they produced would’ve been pawns in their chess game of society just the same.

He simply wouldn’t play the game anymore.

Losing his true love was already more than he’d ever willingly gamble again.

Even if he ran away and became an omega outcasted from proper society, Steve can’t imagine an outcome worse than the one he’d already endured.

What is there left to lose anymore?

His life has no real value.

That bleak thought is what finally lulls him to sleep.

When Steve wakes, it’s from men grabbing him out of his bed and dragging him into a carriage— an eerie flashback to ten years prior.

He should’ve known. His parents had done the same thing to him before.

A coward’s tactic.

Snatch him in the middle of the night and send him away before he can devise an escape plan.

He’s already crying before he’s even made it into the carriage properly, kicking and screaming without success as he’s shoved into the closed space against his wishes.

Nobody seems to care how he feels.

“Oh, sweetheart, shhhh. It’s alright now. Please don’t shed anymore tears, my love.”

Small correction: one person seems to care.

He’s not alone in the carriage evidently. A change from the last time. Henry had waited at the manor for him to arrive, not directly involved in his kidnapping.

But there’s a man in here with him.

It’s dark in the carriage, difficult to make out features beyond a groomed beard and exquisite garments whose gold filament threads pick up the moonlight.

As his parents said, his alpha must be a fairly wealthy man to offer more than double his asking price.

Steve is sure his price is far lower than it was before.

Widows who have left their prime years and have yet to produce a pup aren’t exactly as highly desired as virgins.

Still, there must be a reason this stranger wanted him and is speaking to him with such an affectionate familiarity.

“Please leave me be. I beg of you, sir. My late husband just passed recently and I’m not in a state fit to be a wife again yet. I wish to grieve in solitude,” he pleads shakily, staying as far away from the alpha as he can in the cramped space.

The alpha is unnervingly silent. A bad sign.

“I don’t mean to offend you, sir,” Steve rushes to clarify.

This man may well own him and make his life miserable if Steve managed to offend him already. Henry was many things, but senselessly cruel wasn’t one of them.

His new alpha could possibly be much worse than his last.

“So you did fall in love with him then?”

Steve is taken aback by the bold statement. It would be odd for him to admit the truth, but something in him says he shouldn’t lie.

“He was my husband. I held no other sentiments for him beyond societal bonds.”

The alpha shifts closer to him.

Steve runs out of space to move, so he plants himself firmly in his seat, trying to appear unafraid.

“I spent the last ten years of my life trying to rescue you, Stevie. Ten years of working hard and saving and doing anything to elevate myself to the status of a man who could afford to keep you.”

It doesn’t click right away. Not until the moonbeams come through the window just right and hits the alpha’s face.

He’s not just any alpha.

He’s Eddie, the love of Steve’s life. The man he gave up his future for and never thought he’d see again.

A former pauper boy, now wealthy and older.

Returned to save him.

Eddie cups his cheek gently, locking eyes with Steve and conveying shared feelings without words.

He kisses his nose.

“You came back,” Steve states in wonder.

“I poisoned him,” Eddie confesses without an ounce of remorse. “I knew Henry wouldn’t let you go, but I needed you to know that I still love you. I needed to free you from him.”

He should be upset with Eddie, but it’s the most romantic thing he’s ever heard.

Eddie didn’t flee town and look out for himself all those years ago, as would’ve been the wise choice

He’s returned as his alpha.

“You didn’t run away, Eddie.”

“I’d never run anywhere you couldn’t follow me, Steve.”

[wwooyology]

when you call him your husband

「pairing」 : enha ot7 x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.1k

「synopsis」 : in which you call them your husband instead of your boyfriend...

「genre」 : fluff, established relationship, headcanon

「warnings」 : kissing, petnames (baby, love, princess...), just a lot of fluffiness

「notes」 : this is my compensation for the emotional damage that I may have caused some of you after posting the second part of tmh 😭 I hope y'all enjoy this cutesy scenario!!

Heeseung •°. *࿐

you had seen the trend of the girls calling their boyfriends their husbands for shits and giggles all over your for you page, and you knew you wanted to try it. already imagining what heeseung’s reaction would be and suddenly felt super giddy. so you ran and told your friends all about your idea, and they encouraged you, already knowing that your boyfriend would love it. you had everything planned, knowing that you would do it when you went out to lunch with him this weekend.

but then you saw the viral video of the guy who rudely cut his girlfriend off, telling her that he wasn’t her husband, and doubt started to cloud your mind. what if heeseung reacts the same way? or what if he just laughed at you because he thought it was stupid?

so when you told your friends that you weren’t going to do it anymore, they asked you why until you finally spilled the reason behind your hesitance. your best friend just shook her head with a small laugh.

“girl, that man is far too lovesick; there ain’t no way he’s gonna react like that.” she reassured you, and the other agreed with her rather quickly.

“yeah, and that guy in the video was just an asshole, you can tell.” another of your friends added in, causing you to laugh before saying that she was right.

nodding with a newfound confidence, you told them that you were going to do it, and they all cheered, causing you to laugh. your best friend then grabbed your attention once more with a reassuring smile.

“and if, for some very unlikely reason, he does act like that, my door is always open, and we can eat some ice cream.” she patted your hand, and you nodded again before telling her thank you.

when the day came around that you went to pick up heeseung, you kept telling yourself that everything was going to be okay. the two of you had already talked about just picking up food through the drive-thru and going to eat at the park, seeing as it was a nice day.

“hey baby.” heeseung greeted you as he opened the passenger door of your car, bending down to give you his cheeky smile, “are you sure you wanna drive? I’m more than happy to.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his offer, but you shook your head, “it’s okay, hee, you’re always driving; I got it this time.”

heeseung just chuckled before taking his seat in the passenger seat, situating it so his long legs could fit in front of him before turning towards you. he leaned over the middle console waiting for you to lean forward, which you did not too long after capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. pulling away, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully at the wide grin that took your place on his lips.

“you ready?” you asked him, and he just hummed before sitting back in the seat, his hand going to your thigh.

it didn’t take too long before you made it to the restaurant; pulling into the drive thru you made a quick decision of what you wanted before going to the speaker. the worker greeted you, and you told them what you wanted before looking over at heeseung, who was still looking at the menu. 

“just get me whatever you got, baby,” he told you before sitting back and returning to the game he was playing on his phone. you shook your head, a smile tugging on your lips as you turned towards the speaker once more, ready to put your plan into action.

“then my husband wants the same thing,” you told the worker; however, heeseung had stopped playing his game to look over at you, a goofy grin adorning his face. after you made sure that your order was correct, you sat back in your seat to move forward, sparing him a quick glance, “what?” you tried your best to act clueless despite your heart racing under your ribcage. 

heeseung just sat there, silent, letting your words fully sink in, the smile never leaving his lips. however, his silence was starting to worry you even if he was wearing a humongous smile. you swallowed thickly as you paid for the food and took the drinks.

he waited until you finished handing him the food before taking your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours, and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “husband, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Jongseong •°. *࿐

you weren’t entirely sure why you were here, to begin with. your friends had begged and begged you to come to the stupid class reunion, saying that it would be a lot of fun to catch up with one another and that they could finally meet jay, the man that you had been dating for three years. reluctantly, you agreed and talked to jay about going. thankfully, he didn’t mind going as long as you were with him.

however, now you are starting to regret your decision to bring your boyfriend along with you. every single time that you turned your back, even if it was for just a split second, you would turn to see yet another female flirting with him. jay, of course, rejected their advances, pointing over to you, but they just couldn’t seem to catch a hint.

your friends were sure that you were bound to blow a fuse if you turned around to catch another girl trying to touch up on jay. so they grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to them, causing you to look at them with a raised eyebrow.

“girl, you look like you’re about to behead the next person that so much as looks in his direction.” one of them teased, but you nodded softly before saying that you just might at this point.

laughing nervously, your other friend grabs your wrist before placing something in the palm of your hand. confused, you look down only to become even more confused when you see that she has given you a ring.

“put this on and go tell them to leave your husband alone,” she instructed you, motioning to the ring.

so you did just that. handing her your drink, you slipped the ring onto your ring finger before turning and making your way back to jay, who was standing by the drink table, trying to ignore the four other women who had started to surround him.

“hey princess,” jay greeted you as you walked up to him, wrapped your arms around his, and placed a kiss on his cheek. sensing that you were up to something, jay just watched with an amused gleam in his eyes.

you looked over at the other women, who were either glaring at you or raising an eyebrow. offering them a fake sweet smile, you grabbed jay’s hand, making a show of the ring on your finger before tilting your head slightly.

“thank you, ladies, for keeping my husband company while I was away, but I got it from here,” you told them, sas lacing your tone. none of them gave you any backtalk and walked away, not trying to draw attention. jay bit back the smirk as he watched you tell the women off, loving when your jealousy seeped through.

once they were out of sight, jay pulled his arm from your grasp, causing you to look over at him, getting ready to ask him what was wrong. but he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. he then took your left hand into his, looking at the ring that sat on your finger.

“hmm…” he hummed, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your palm, “why don’t we replace this with a real one?”

Jaeyun •°. *࿐

it had always been jake’s thing to go around calling you ‘wife’ or ‘wifey’. he would do it any chance he could because one, he loved seeing how flustered you would get, the tips of your ears turning cherry red. two because one day he planned on making you his wife, so why not just get used to saying it now. you, however, never really went around calling him anything more than your boyfriend or soulmate if you were feeling sentimental, but after he called you his wife in front of practically the whole restaurant for your anniversary, you planned on getting him back. so you waited until it was game night and all of his friends were over to make your move.

friday nights had become game night for your boyfriend and his friends. Of course, you were never excluded. jake was far too clingy to not have you involved, so you always found yourself either perched on the couch next to him or joining in on their countless rounds of games.

most of the time, you would always cook dinner for everyone. However, tonight, after a long week of exams and work, you didn't feel like cooking, so you just decided to order take-out. after running it by the guys and everyone agreeing, you stood to grab your phone that you had charging in the kitchen. grabbing the device, you couldn’t help the smirk that was tugging on your lips as you dialed the number.

whenever the restaurant answered, you started taking all of the guys’ orders, relaying them to the guy on the other side of the phone to make sure that he had heard correctly. after you got all of the guys’ orders, you moved over to your boyfriend, trying to conceal the shit-eating grin that was threatening to spread on your lips. 

“babe, did you want your usual?” you asked, standing next to the couch where he was sitting with a controller in his hands; he spared you a quick glance and said a quick ‘yes, please’ before going back to the game. “then my husband would like…” you spoke into the phone as you turned around to walk away, your lips curling inward to keep from giggling when you heard the sounds of the ‘game over’ screen.

“yeah, her hubby would like his usual.” heeseung started to tease the younger male, a smirk on his lips as jake’s face started to turn red. jake just waved him off before setting his controller off to the side so he could catch you before you got too far.

you barely got a chance to walk away before you were being pulled back, a small sound of surprise leaving your lips. jake wore a huge smile on his lips as he held you close even after you sent him a small glare. apologizing to the lady you finished up your order before hanging up and looking at jake.

“your husband?” his voice was slightly higher in pitch as if he was trying to keep from fangirling. you just smiled before kissing his cheek and trying to get up, but he wouldn’t let you. “I wanna hear you say it again.”

your face started to heat up as you felt the guys staring at the two of you, your plan completely backfiring, but the smile that adorned jake’s face was more than enough compensation for you.

Sunghoon •°. *࿐

you walked alongside sunghoon as you both made it to the ice rink. it was well into the winter time, but neither of you had had the time to go out and skate like you do every year, but as soon as both of your schedules had cleared you made it your mission to go. so now you had your fingers intertwined with his as he stuffed your combined hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“it feels like we haven’t done this in forever,” you sigh, basking in the cool night breeze while sunghoon looks over at you, admiring the way your eyelashes lay on your cheekbones that were a light shade of red due to the cold.

he pulls your hands out of his pocket before bringing them to his lips to place a gentle kiss on your fingertip, causing you to look up at him, “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to spend much time together, my love.”

your heart swelled at his actions, causing a soft smile to spread on your lips; you then suddenly thought back to something that your co-worker had told you. she had watched quite a few videos of girls calling their boyfriends ‘husband,’ and she thought that their reactions were the sweetest thing in the world. then she asked you if you had ever called sunghoon, your husband, just to see his reaction, and you told her no, but then the thought of what his reaction might be started to haunt your mind. you wanted to know what his reaction would be but were a little worried that he wouldn’t quite catch it.

looking around, you noticed that there weren’t very many people here tonight, “it doesn’t look too busy.” you observed as you walked over to the skate counter, and sunghoon nodded before looking around the rink himself.

“hi, what size skates for you guys tonight?” the girl on the other side of the counter asked, a sweet smile adorning her lips. You returned it before telling her your shoe size, then looking over at sunghoon, who was still looking around, seeming to have gotten lost in his own world.

swallowing the nervous lump in your throat, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to try the little ‘prank’ out, so you returned your gaze to the worker who was waiting patiently.

“and my husband is gonna need a size…” you told what size sunghoon had needed and the boy's head instantly turned towards you confused about whether or not he had just heard you correctly. his hand squeezing yours enough to gain your attention.

“what did you say?” he asked, his head tilting slightly, causing you to bite your tongue so you don’t lose composure.

“I just told her your shoe size.” you feigned confusion, copying his gesture.

however, sunghoon quickly shook his head, “no, no, not that, before that.” but before you could answer him, the worker came back with your skates, so you thanked her, handing sunghoon his before grabbing your own.

walking over to a bench, you went to sit down, but sunghoon stopped you, “you would want to marry me?” the genuine shock in his tone made your heart drop; had he really thought that you wouldn’t want to marry him?

you released his hand and sat your skates down before reaching up to cup his face in your hands. without another word, you pulled him down, kissing him softly. his fingers curled around your waist, pulling you closer to him just as you pulled away, your forehead resting against his.

“of course, I’d wanna marry you; don’t be so silly.” you smiled softly at him before kissing him once more, then pulled away to put your skates on, “now come on, let’s go skate.”

Sunoo •°. *࿐

it was friday and that meant that you were going to be doing your weekly review of the make-up products that you had used throughout the week. however, this week was going to be a little different; you were going to be doing sunoo’s make-up as a milestone reward for your followers. you had spent quite a bit of time on tiktok and just happened to see the videos where all of the girls were calling their boyfriend’s ‘husband’ and recording their reaction. they all made you giggle, and you just knew you had to try it on sunoo, and this just seemed to be the perfect time for it.

you were in the middle of setting up the camera for the video when there was a knock at the door before sunoo peeked his head through the crack, “hey love, I brought some fruit.” you couldn’t help but smile seeing the small bowl of fruit that was in his hand.

“thank you, sun,” you motioned for him to join you on the ground in front of the camera, “come sit. I’m almost done setting up.” 

sunoo happily made his way over to you and sat down, his legs crossed underneath him, and handed you the bowl. his hand then found your knee as you sat the fruit down on the table in front of you before grabbing a blueberry and popping it into your mouth.

“are you ready?” you asked him, and he nodded with a bright smile on his face. you had to fight back the huge grin that was threatening to pull on your lips as you reached forward to turn the camera on.

sitting back down on your knees, you smiled at the camera, “hello everyone! as mentioned on my twitter, I am going to be doing my husband’s makeup.”

a look of shock morphed on sunoo’s face as he looked away from the camera lens to look at you, “husband?” he exclaimed, causing you to jump slightly and look over at him, trying your best to not smile.

“what?” you asked, holding back a giggle when he looked from you to the camera lens before pointing to himself.

“are you talking about me?” he asked with a cheeky smile on his face causing you to giggle.

“yes who else would I be talking about?” your cheeks had started to hurt from smiling so hard as he looked at you in pure astonishment.

“you,” sunoo pointed at you before pointing down to his hand, “marry me?”

“yes,” you laughed, glancing over to the camera once more before letting your eyes fall back on him, “that’s what makes you my husband.”

sunoo looked at you for a second before holding his left hand out to you, “I do,” he looked around the room, “I just wish the scenery was a little bit better, but I do.” you couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at the sassiness in his tone before reaching over to your vanity to grab a ring.

sitting back down, you held your hand out for him, and sunoo happily placed his hand into yours, allowing you to slip the ring on his ring finger. you then placed a kiss on his knuckles before looking up to capture the bright, sassy smile that played on his lips.

you couldn’t help but laugh as he grabbed your hand to pull you closer, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. "don’t worry, my love. I’ll get you one as well,” he whispered sweetly, relishing in the blush that dusked your cheeks as you continued your recording.

Jungwon •°. *࿐

whenever you had gotten a message from your best friend telling you about a trend that she had seen floating around, you knew that it would be the perfect prank to pull on jungwon. you knew that it could end one of two ways, either he would get shy and just cling himself onto you for the rest of the night, or he would get smug and start teasing you relentlessly. though you would be fine with either of those outcomes, you hoped that he would opt for the first.

you and your friend hadn’t talked in a long time, so you decided to call each other over the weekend. you decided that it would be the perfect opportunity to pull the prank, seeing as she has yet to meet your boyfriend.

so when the weekend rolled around, you told her to call during the time that you knew jungwon would be on his way home from the gym. you sat down at the dining table talking to her, catching each other up on your current life events before you heard the front door opening.

“is that him?” your friend asked, muffling her giggles when you placed your finger over your lips, but you nodded nonetheless. jungwon walked into the kitchen with a smile spreading on his face when he saw you sitting at the table, his dimples on display.

“hey baby, how was the gym?” you asked him, a small smile adorning your lips as he sat his water bottle down on the counter before walking over to you.

“it was good,” he leaned down, kissing the top of your head before glancing at your phone screen. "what are you up to?”

you moved your phone up enough for him to see your friend, who waved at him, “remember I was calling my friend this weekend?” he nodded, standing behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“who’s this?” your friend asked in mock curiosity as she bit the inside of her cheek, and you had to bite back a smirk of your own.

you looked up at jungwon for a moment before going back to your phone, “this is jungwon, my husband.”

jungwon’s eyes widened in shock as he looked down at you, but you just continued your conversation as if it were a normal day. he had been fully prepared for you to say boyfriend, but he definitely wasn’t prepared for the word ‘husband’ to leave your lips.

you couldn’t help the silly smile that pulled on your lips when jungwon wrapped his arms around your shoulders, burying his face in the crook of your neck. you could tell he was flustered by how warm his cheek was against your skin. 

“I’m your husband?” his voice came out in a hushed tone against your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine, but you just hummed, leaning further into him before reaching up to run your fingers through his slightly damp hair as you continued your conversation with your friend while he clung to you.

Ni-ki •°. *࿐

it was saturday night, and you were spinning around in your gaming chair, waiting for riki to send you a message letting you know that he was ready to hop on. you had made a plan to livestream a new game with riki for all of your subscribers to watch because that had practically begged you to make another video with your boyfriend. you were almost sure that your subscribers liked him more than you.

just as you were getting ready to grab your phone to message him first, his name popped up on your screen, causing a wide smile to erupt on your face. quickly opening your phone, you went to your and riki’s chat, seeing that he had said he was ready to go with a little sunglasses emoji. laughing softly, you moved closer to your desk and grabbed your headset before calling riki.

it didn’t even finish ringing for the second time when riki picked up, “hey baby.” his voice flowed through your headset, causing a smile to pull your lips even wider.

you greeted him before pulling up the game and making sure everything for the live stream was ready, “ready to go?” you asked him, and you could hear him hum from the other side. taking that as a green light, you started the stream.

after quickly doing your intro, you waited for more people to join the stream before starting the game. a laugh fell from your lips as you read the comments asking if riki was still going live with you. 

“don’t worry, guys. riki is joining us today. he’s actually here right now.” you clicked a few buttons before letting riki pop up on the screen next to you.

then came the influx of comments about how cute he was and how he played games so well, or there were the occasional few comments about how cute the two of you were. smiling, you answered a few questions. unbeknownst to you, riki was watching you through the screen, missing the comment that popped up about someone claiming him as their ‘husband’. rolling your eyes playfully, you situated yourself in your seat before speaking.

“he’s my husband, actually.” your tone was playful, but your words had completely caught the boy off guard.

riki could feel his ears burning red as he tried his best to remain stoic as he watched you move to start the game. his eyes flickered over to the comments, seeing a few about how they would fight you for his attention, and he could tell that they were starting to annoy you, so he tried to push what you had said to the side 

“let’s start the game, ya?” he cleared his throat before letting his eyes flicker over to you, and you nodded, getting ready to hit the start button as soon as riki was in the lobby. however, riki had completely missed the small smirk that was pulling on the corner of your lip, wanting nothing more than to tease him, knowing that you had made him slightly flustered.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇ��ʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[the-original-skipps]

|| When You Move In Together. || Wind Breaker ||

sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.

❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”

“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”

❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.

“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”

❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.

“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”

Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.

“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”

❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.

"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"

[spoiledcarmen]

Crimson Moon

Pair: Batfamily x neglected!reader

tags: Child n3glect, Angst/No comfort, Hurt/No comfort, teens doing drgs, maladaptive dreaming, dead dove: do not eat, does this count as dddne??, MC is biological daughter of Bruce Wayne, No use of Y/N, Gotham Academy, made up characters, OOC canon characters.

summary: Basically the Wayne/Bat family but reader is Bruce Wayne’s daughter who doesn’t know they’re all vigilantes and they sorta neglect her since she’s not very important in their lives.

chapter: The Beginning Of Our End. (1/?)

authors note: This was my first work, i started uploading fics on Tumblr a few weeks ago, im doing so well!! this is also my most popular fic on ao3, so i hope Tumblr likes it as well!

PT.1 - (you can read the rest of the parts on ao3 while i publish the rest on here.)

14 years ago, Bruce had made a decision he would come to regret. on valentine’s day him and unknown woman appeared to be lingering around each other at a club. he would soon make an irrotational choice. with him chugging one drink after another that she kept bringing over to him and his table, his standards have dropped low enough for him to ask for something else, maybe something to eat. she said “it’ll cost ya.” in a hefty Gotham accent. he laughed and replied drunkenly and sloppy “oh really?”, her sensing she could make bank off of this obviously wasted billionaire, she played sultry. he gave her a stack of hundreds, its only natural that’s all he carries? after that, off to a room they went.

forward to November 14th you were born. 3 days later you were in a basket with a blanket over you with a note that stated your name with his last name, and date of birth. in messy handwriting at the bottom left corner it said, “your daughter.” as Alfred opened the door and saw you, he immediately brought you in inside before he read the note, and once he did he urgently called over Bruce, not wanting to alert the others. Bruce’s immediate reaction to reading the note was “shit… well i don’t doubt she’s mine. i remember that night like he was yesterday.” he rubs his forehead as a sign of stress and in deep thought. however once his gaze dropped down to you, peacefully sleeping in the warm environment of the manor, he knew he couldn’t help but take you in.

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when people thought of “Wayne”, they thought class, elegance, and power. and apparently you were exactly that, Since the moment you were born everyone thought of you as this radiating light of eternal beauty, a symbol of hope. whereas your father thought of it as a fresh start. Bruce has obviously fucked up with all of his other kids, so why not just do the opposite with this one? no becoming robin, no training, not being dragged into the whole vigilante world. just a normal kid. being Bruce’s biological kid had a lot of perks, like his last name and just a lot of money in general. the last name ‘Wayne’ itself, brought you a lot of social power. you liked it, it gave you what you didn’t have at home. Attention. something you severely lacked. the fact that nobody noticed with you being in front of a camera all the time is crazy, from the difficulty of staying on a simple task to unintentionally interrupting conversations to being easily distracted.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

which now brings you to the present. always wondering where everyone went at night, always wondering why nobody wanted to sit around by you, always wondering why everyone was careful around you, always wondering why.. not even your father gives you attention, why would your family? you’re not special. you’ve never been special. other than being somewhat pretty enough to put you on the cover of a beauty magazine and not a news paper,smart enough to get above passing, but you’re not very special. in your room in bed, late at night, you always hear chatter. you seem to think there’s a party you haven’t been invited to which is nearly impossible, who wouldn’t want you around? but every time you go downstairs, no one is there, was it your imagination?

no it can’t be.. you can still clearly hear them. you can hear Damian making another snarky comment, Richard laughing with Babs, you can almost hear Jason shuffling around the room with Alfred asking if anyone needed anything. so where could they be? hiding? from you? not impossible. but how could they be hiding but their voices being this clear? after a while of looking you decide to just go back to bed, maybe you’re just tired from today, even if you didn’t really do much.. you get back into bed, yet you can’t shake off this feeling, it feels like a hole in your stomach, feeling like you’re missing out on something. nevertheless you decide to just swallow the feeling and push it down to try and sleep for school tomorrow.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you wake up but your vision is very blurry, hazy, weak. you try to rub it out of your eyesight but it doesn’t work, the harder you rub the darker your vision becomes, soon enough it’s pitch black. you open your eyes to see a large moon, with crimson red around the edges, ‘crimson… moon?..’ you think, your eyes are fixated on it. you can’t seem to move. you look down and see a hand reaching out to you, it’s luring you to grab it, to reach back to it, to hold it. you want to but you simply cannot move. you look back up at the moon, it’s craters seem to be eyes staring back at you, yet they don’t blink, they cannot blink, you cannot blink, however you still try, you know you can’t do it regardless you still try. and you succeed, you blink.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

you truly awaken from your nightmare and wake up out of breath. like you just ran a marathon, you rush to the bathroom and go and wash your face, you watch yourself in the mirror, making sure that you are still you. everything checks out and you continue with your morning routine, shower, brush your teeth, skincare, makeup. by the time you’ve finished your routine you’re already late to breakfast, you rush to get your uniform on, you take one last look in the mirror at yourself and see your uniform that says “Gotham Academy” on its stupid logo. you sigh, having to dread putting it on everyday.

you rush downstairs to see only Alfred, “Where’s Damian? doesn’t he have school too?” you say sarcastically, Damian gets to skip if he’s feeling tired or just bored of school, but apparently you can’t. Alfred replies “Master Damian is a bit under the weather, excuse him from breakfast this morning.” you’ll excuse him, you always will. you ask your final question of the day, “And where’s father? and the others?”, Alfred sighs and replies “Master Bruce has already left for work, as for the others, i’m pretty sure a few of them are sleeping in. ‘Checks out.’ you think, you nod and take your sandwich to go, rather to eat it on the car ride there. the car ride to school was awfully quiet, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your sandwich wrapper, not even the radio was turned on, you’ve forgotten your headphones so what a joy this car ride has been. shortly after, Alfred announces you’ve arrived, you get out of the car and throw the sandwich wrapper in a nearby bin as you wave him goodbye, you watch him drive off and heavily sigh.

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your entire demeanor changes as soon as Alfred drives off, after all you’ve got an image to maintain. you’re all sunshine and rainbows as you walk up to your group of friends, all of them as happy as you are, they greet you one by one. after a while of chitchatting about nothing really important, the bell rings, everyone whines about having to go to class, “Well, we do still have lunch and that party after school?” you reassure them. “are you sure you’re coming? last time you cancelled last minute.” one says and another nods. you furrow your eyebrows and try not to roll your eyes, “i’m sure. i won’t cancel this time.” you say, none of them know you had to leave because you were just overwhelmed by the peer pressure of vaping or whatever is cool now.

you and another one of your friends, Heather, decide to stop wasting time and go to class, Heather asks “Where’s your brother?” you take a deep breath, not even wanting to utter his name, “Damian’s sick.”, She replies “Oh really? i was hoping i’d see him today.” she seems rather bummed out hes not here. You raise an eyebrow and decide to press for more, “huh.. why’s that?”, you’re pretty sure she likes him, but you don’t wanna get the wrong impression. “i wanted to talk to him about something..” she says with a slight smile on your face, you swear you could see her blush. “about what? i’ll tell him when i get home.” you smirk at her as you both walk into class, “oh nothing! i’ll just tell him tomorrow.” she rushes to her seat, you try to keep up with her.

you take off your backpack and get out your pencil case and notebooks as you remind her, “you know tomorrow is Saturday? right?”, she laughs it off nervously and spits out “yeah totally! just slipped my mind!”, you side eye her and think ‘who does she think she’s fooling?’ however you brush it off and go on with your day. the rest of this class was pretty tame, you muted out whatever the teacher was saying and just thought about your dream, you were debating on telling Heather but she was one of those freaks who thought every dream had a meaning, and if you did ask her she could just make you more nervous about it. you awaken from your trance and see the board covered in writing from top to bottom, you stare at Heather wondering why she didn’t tell you. you immediately pick up a pencil and start writing.

as soon as you finish writing the bell rings once more, you instantly pack up your things and rush out of there, a few people try to talk to you however you were too fast. you go to the locker you didn’t have a chance to go to in the morning and take put some books in and take some out, you check what class you have next and it’s biology. You and Heather basically have the same schedule so you tap her on the shoulder, “Wanna skip the rest of the day?” you ask nonchalantly, “Sure, but how’ll we get out of here?” she replies as she closes her locker door, “don’t worry, i’ve got an idea.” you smile as you grab her hand and run out to the courtyard, “and what now? we’re surrounded by concrete.” she says snarkily. “just wait! we have to go to the classroom that’s on the left and just sneak out the window. it’s empty, nobody has computer until forth period.” you hold her hand tighter as you run to the classroom together. “we have to be fast before someone sees us!” you say, she replies as she scoffs “no shit Sherlock..”

you enter the classroom and make her hold your bookbag as you struggle to get out through the window, nevertheless you do it. “see! come on!” you take your bag and her bag as you encourage her to come towards you. “you Wayne’s are amazing. it almost makes up for the fact you don’t give anyone attention.” she says with a laugh as she goes through the window. you scoff when you get referred to as a Wayne, you are one but.. you don’t like to get mixed up with them, you’re a different category of Wayne, you enjoy the spotlight, much more forced into it.. yet you brush it off and say, “well.. i certainly give people attention. i don’t know about the others.”

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you both walk the streets of Gotham with your backpacks on your back and strange looks on you, Heather says “why is everyone looking at us weird..”, “because we’re supposed to be in school, genius.” you snap back. “Oh! Oh! we should go explore!” she says enthusiastically as she points to Arkham Asylum. you stare at it as you wonder how it’s a miracle no kids have been snatched from the school and taken there yet, or maybe they have and you just don’t know about it. nevertheless you reply to her and scold her, “No! what the actual fuck are you thinking! no way in hell im going in there or letting you go in there!”, “you’re so lame..” she says as she walks past the asylum with pouted lips, you roll your eyes and say “i’d rather be lame and alive than cool and dead.”

you see she’s pretty upset about being scolded so you suggest you both go get some food and ice cream to pass the time. her mood instantly gets better as she grabs your hand and rushes to the nearest fast food place, “okay okay!” you say as you try to keep up with her running. once you get there she says “you’ll pay obviously.” you roll your eyes playfully and agree. the place is pretty empty since everyone is either at school or work, you both get to the cashier and the cashier says, “aren’t you girls supposed to be in school?”, Heather stares at you and raises her eyebrow at you, which basically means ‘say something!’ you look back at the cashier and say “do you want or business or not. if so we’ll both have a small chicken sandwich with fries and diet coke.”, the cashier nods reasonably and takes your order and hands you the card reader, you pay and Heather hugs you by your shoulder. “alright get off now.”, you tell her off as you aren’t a very affectionate person.

—————————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———————

she sits down at a table while you wait to get your food, the place is empty, why on earth are they taking so long?… after a while of waiting you finally get your food and go to your table. Heather immediately takes her food before you even set the tray down, you just roll your eyes and sit down to enjoy your food. “are you seriously going to the party later?” she says with her mouth full of food, you raise an eyebrow and say hesitantly, “of course i am, why are you asking?”, she shrugs and replies “ehhh.. i haven’t seen you go to a party in a while”, you laugh and reassure her once again “dont worry. i’m going and i’m going to be one hell of a party animal.”

[imaginecelia]

It started with a look. You swear it was just a look.

You were talking to his mother as she told you about all the different things she could build for you as long as you provided the stone, wood, and gold up front. Then, out he came. Marching up the stairs from his dark cavern. All it took was one look. You noticed how remnants of last night's eyeliner smeared across his under eye. You noticed clothes were wrinkled and his hair had clearly not been checked in a mirror with the way parts of it stood up from the rest.

As he came up the stairs, a light aroma of stale cigarettes followed him. You almost let out a snort thinking, of course this guy is a smoker. And that’s when your eyes met. It was only for a second, but it felt far longer. A lack of recognition flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed for just a moment.

“Sebastian! It was about time you came up from down there. Have you met Y/N? She just moved into that old farm past the bus stop…It was your grandfather’s right hon?” You turn to Robin and see her smiling face, clearly expectant for you to speak up and properly introduce yourself to her lonesome son.

“Yeah…I wanted a break from the city..” You say, shooting a shy smile in Sebastian’s direction. You didn’t expect him to let out a surprised laugh.

“You left the city? To come here? Pelican Town?” His voice carried disbelief as he raised his eyebrows and looked you up and down. You felt the hairs stand up on your arms at the feeling of being closely examined by the stranger. “Well, have fun with that,” He says sarcastically before turning back on his way to the kitchen.

“Sebastian, don't be rude!” Robin called off after him while letting out a small, exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry about him Y/N…He isn’t a social butterfly that's for sure. Now where were we?” She gives you a polite smile as she changes the subject back to business.

“Oh, Horse stables I believe?”

“That’s right! Now if you don’t get a horse soon, you’re going to be doing a lot of walking around town…” As she continues to talk, her words start registering less and less. You continue to glance in the direction that the mysterious boy walked off to, wondering if he was nearly as interested in you as you were in him.

Next, it was a smoke.

You had finished up a long day in the mines, and too exhausted to continue, you were headed home. It was around 9 PM, and the cool air refreshed your skin. You only got to breathe in the fresh air for a moment though, as the smell of cigarette smoke soon followed. You looked around for the source until you saw Sebastian, standing under a tree with a lit cigarette in his fingers. He hasn’t noticed you yet, so he just looks out across the lake, lost in thought. The peaceful look on his face as he takes another puff puts a small smile on your face.

“Does your mommy know you smoke?” You call out to him teasingly as you walk towards him. He jumped a little, surprised that he was no longer alone.

“It’s not a secret…But I doubt she’s noticed,” He says to you with a sad smile. You tilt your head at the remark. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an open pack of Marlboros. He holds it out, offering for you to take one. You hesitate for a moment, but as your eyes look up to meet him, the decision is made for you. You take one out of the pack and place it between your lips. He takes out his lighter, and you lean in for him to light it. With the bright flame illuminating his face, you see his teeth biting down gently on his lip, his eyes intently looking down on you. The light is replaced with the smaller one at the end of your cigarette.

A minute of silence and a few deep inhales pass before you decide to find out a little more about the guy standing beside you. His presence is quiet, yet striking.

“So…Sebastian. Do you do anything other than live in your mom’s basement and sneak out at night to smoke?” You ask him. The corners of his mouth twist up into what you might just mistake for a playful grin.

“I’m a software developer. Sometimes video games. And for your information, I’m saving up to get out of my mom's basement,” His words are feisty, but his tone is playful. “What about you? What did you do before you decided to take on the wilderness?”

You let out a small laugh before replying, “Just a boring desk job…Now I get to spend my day chopping down trees and fighting monsters, so in my book it’s an upgrade.” Sebastian smiles, not just at your words, but at you. He puts out his cigarette against the tree that you’re standing against. He takes yours from between your fingers and takes a drag from it, before handing it back to you.

“I should get back inside. I have a project I have to finish by the morning…”

“Oh yeah, you go do that,” You ramble quietly, disappointed your time together had to end so soon.

Sebastian starts to turn back to his house before glancing back and saying, “It was nice hanging out with you.”

“Yeah, you too,” you reply, thankful the dark is covering the blush rising to your cheeks.

Lastly, all it took was being at the right place at the right time.

It was Friday night, and everyone was gathered at the saloon as they usually are. You sat next to Abigail as you both watched Sebastian and Sam in a heated pool match. Still being relatively new in town, you were happy to make a quick friend in the purple haired girl who you had bonded with over animals and music.

“Aw come on Seb, is that the best you can got?” Taunts Sam after making a shot. Sam, who is losing by a landslide. You laugh and take a sip from the Joja Cola in your hand that Abigail had brought you.

“God this stuff is disgusting…” You say just to yourself as you place the can on the floor.

“I know right…I don’t know how Sam drinks that stuff.” You look up at Sebastian, not realizing he had been listening. He greets you with a stupid smile that makes your heart do a little flip.

“Come on Sebastian, eyes on the prize. I have five dollars riding on this round. Sam was that cocky he could win. Bring it home, man,” Abigail urges, not realizing she had interrupted a moment between the two of you.

As the game carried on, it was down to Sebastian’s last shot, as Sam still had a couple balls left to go.

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you take my last shot for me? I’m tired of making every single one myself.” You look up at the mention of your name. Sam groans at the trash talk, but you know that wasn’t Sebastian’s actual intentions with his offer.

“Oh I’ve never really played before…” You hesitate as you stand up and get closer to the table, examining the table closer.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help.” Sebastian hands you the cue stick. He moves to stand behind you, his hand positioning yours on the stick. He’s so close to you, his chin is practically resting on your shoulder. As he adjusts your aim and informs you which pocket he wants you to go for, you feel his breath warming your ear.

“Just…like…that.” He finally helps you pull back and take the shot. The ball collides with the 8 ball and pushes it to roll right where you needed it. You smile gleefully as you realize you made the shot, and just won Sebastian the game. You drop the stick on the table as Sebastian pulls your shoulder around to face him and offers you up a high five. Your hands collide and he interlocks his fingers with yours and shakes you a little. “See? Even Y/N, who’s never touched a pool stick in her life can kick your ass Sam!” You laugh as Sam curses Sebastian out and slams a five dollar bill into Abigail’s palm.

“On that note, I should really get home. I have to wake up early,” you say, causing Abigail to groan and beg you to stay a little longer.

“I have to get going too. I’ll walk you,” Sebastian says. His words reminiscent of an offer, but his voice makes it clear you don’t really have a choice.

“Well alright then…” You say goodnight to everyone and head out towards the door with Sebastian following closely behind you. You swear you hear Sam say something with your and Sebastian’s names, causing Abigail to cackle out. You look up to see if Sebastian noticed, and if he did, he showed no sign of it.

“You know, that was pretty great back there. You sure you’ve never played before? You might just be a natural.” The cold air nips at your skin as you step outside. The sun had set since you’d first got to the Saloon, and your outfit was not suited for the cool temperature. Without saying anything about it, Sebastian wraps his arm around you. He grabs your arm and rubs it, trying to warm you up.

“Maybe I’m secretly a world champion, and we just completely conned Sam back there,” you joke, trying to ignore his touch and proximity. “You know you don’t have to walk me all the way back to the farm right? It’s really out of your way.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll just make sure you get there safe and then head home.” His words make you smile and you immediately feel like an idiot. Don’t make it more than it is…Anyone would offer to do the same thing, you tell yourself. But that doesn’t stop your heart beat from quickening.

You spend the rest of the walk getting to know each other a little better. He tells you about how when he was little, it was just him and his mom. Then she met Demitrius when he came to do a study on the aquatic animals in Pelican Town. You tell him about your grandfather, and how badly you want to return his farm to its former glory in his memory. You exchange jokes and stories, and before you know it, you’re at your front porch. You take a couple of steps up onto the porch and turn to face him below you.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you know he can see your dumb smile under the porchlight, but you’ve long stopped caring.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re new here…New things are exciting.”

Before you can stop yourself, you say to him, “I excite you?” As the words leave your mouth you regret it, knowing he probably found it weird. To your surprise, his eyebrows raise and he steps up the stairs to meet you at your level. No longer having the higher ground, whatever freak confidence made you ask him that question has disappeared. Sebastian places his hand on the side of your face. His touch is warm, and it contrasts the cold air strikingly. He stands there looking down at you for a few moments, silent.

“Yeah…I guess you could say that.” Before you even realize what’s happening he leans down and presses his lips gently against yours. You let yourself lean into the soft kiss before he pulls away, staying just an inch away from you. “In fact, you could probably say anything right now and it would go in one ear and out the other.” He leans back in. This time, he is half as gentle. He places his other hand on the side of your waist, and you feel him playing with the hem of your shirt. The kiss is heated and his lips part, allowing your tongue to meet him. He tastes like cigarettes and soda, a taste that is surprisingly delightful. Your hands are on his chest, and the feeling of his heart beating under your fingers is thrilling.

He backs you up against the front door, and you fumble in your pocket for your keys, not daring to break away from him just yet. As you finally grab onto your house key, he takes it from you. He keeps you held up against the door in front of him as he jams the key into the lock and twists it. He reaches for the door knob and opens it behind you. You grab onto his torso and pull him with you as you step back into your house. His lips press back onto yours, hungry for you.

You break away to go sit on your couch as he shuts and locks the door. He comes and sits beside you. Gone from his eyes is the look of pure lust you saw just moments ago. It’s been replaced by something softer, more sensitive.

“You’re so fucking pretty. You know that right?” He’s examining you closely as he reaches to touch your hair. He wraps it around his finger and twirls it as he looks at you.

“Well I would hope you wouldn’t come barging into my house like this with me if you thought I was hideous,” you laugh, and he shakes his head at you.

“Yeah, you’re definitely far from it.” Just like that, his lips are on you again. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips, and you almost frown as you feel him leaving until he places another on your jawline. He pulls your hair out his way and continues to press kisses down your neck, getting more sloppy as he goes. Your breathing quickens and you grab at his hair, curling your fingers up in it. He reaches your collarbone, and you feel him nip and suck it it, surely forming a mark you’ll have to cover up the next day. Finally he leans back, his eyes scanning you, admiring his work. You can’t do anything but sit there and stare at Sebastian. You feel drunk on his touch, high on his smiling face.

You never want this night to end, especially as he leans back into your lips, kissing you softly. His lips are clinging to yours and he grabs at your neck, his hand pulling you into him. His other hand begins traveling, grasping at your breast gently over your shirt and cupping it in his hand. You let out a soft moan into his lips, desperate for him to keep going.

Right as you feel him trail his hand to the bottom of your shirt, you’re interrupted by a loud ringing.

“Fuck.” Your mouth gapes open with a frown, missing his kisses. You lift your knees up to your chest and sit back as you watch him grab his phone from his pocket and let out a groan. “Shit…It’s my mom. I’m sorry Y/N, just give me a second.” He rests his hand on your knee as he holds the phone up to his ear. You take the moment to reflect on the absurd string of events that took place. His eyes fall on you with a look that you can only describe as pity. Your stomach drops and you purse your lips tightly.

“Yeah…Alright. I’ll be back there soon.” You let out a disappointed him as he hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket.

“Y/N…”

“Go ahead. Don’t worry about it.” You give him a small smile, trying your best to mask your disappointment.

“My sister is upset about something probably incredibly stupid…And she needs me home to help deal because Demetrius is on some goddamn work trip.” You nod along as he talks, wishing he would stop looking at you with such apologetic eyes. “Fuck…I really would’ve liked to stay longer. You’re really…” His words trail off and he shakes his head. He grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for one last, long, deep kiss. With that, he stands up to go, leaving the couch empty beside you. He gets to the front door, and turns back to you one last time.

“Next time,” He says, giving you a cheeky smile that makes your brain go blank. You’re barely aware until you hear the door shut behind him. Now you’re sitting there, clutching your knees, completely dumbfounded. Because what the fuck just happened. And what the hell does ‘Next time’ mean?

••••••

Hi! This is my first time posting! How do we feel? There will probably be a part two coming so look out for that!

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

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@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[violettwrites]

american teenagers — intro.

next

helloooooo my loves!!! here’s an intro into my comeback fic, american teenagers! i sat on this idea for a little while during my tiny break and i honestly couldn’t get it out of my head. i was heavily inspired by ethel cain for the vibes of it all, hence the name :)

please bear with me in all this as i do get easily overwhelmed and experience burnout very quickly but you guys are always supportive so i have no doubts!!

i’m not sure when the first chapter will be out, but i’m slowly working on it as i am very excited for you guys to read it! lots of love xx

the summer of 1987 was supposed to feel different. everyone in town kept saying it— teachers, parents, the tired voices on the radio between commercials. they said it like graduating highschool meant anything would actually change. but for the kids in the trailer park on the outskirts of town, it wasn’t much more than another hot season stretched out between long days and longer nights. the same parties by the lake, and the same dreams about escaping that no one really believed in.

the days were always the same for you. early mornings at the gas station counter, and evenings at the diner pouring coffee for truckers passing through. anything to keep you out of your father’s path really. your nights were often spent on the roof of your trailer, a cigarette in one hand and a notebook full of half-finished plans and dreams in the other. for daryl, the boy you had known since he was a scrawny little thing with clothes too big for him, it was merle’s shadow and busted knuckles, endless hours fixing bikes and cars in the sun while dreaming of roads that led anywhere but this small town.

you couldn’t remember a time when daryl dixon wasn’t around. his trailer was only three down from yours. you had been inseparable since the day you caught him standing by the broken fence of the trailer park, segregating the southside of town from the rest of the townspeople. the two of you had seemed like an odd pair to everyone else— daryl’s constant silence and smoldering anger along with your rough edges and restless energy —but somehow, it worked.

the summer after highschool felt like your last chance to figure out if those dreams the two of your had whispered about on those late night drives would ever come true. but the weight of this small town— the trailers, the jobs that paid barely enough to keep the lights on and your fathers off your backs, the scars you didn’t talk about —it all hung heavy between the both of you.

you didn’t really realise it at first, the way your feelings for daryl had shifted. it wasn’t a lightning bolt or this big grand revelation in your head. it was slower than that, like the way the heat crept up during june, making itself known in those hazy afternoons and the sweat dripping down your back. you started to notice those small things— how his voice softened when he talked to you, or the way his shoulders relaxed when the two of you were alone. you couldn’t pin point when it changed, only that it had.

daryl wasn’t any better at handling it either. he’d always thought of you as the one person who saw him for more than what people whispered about the dixons— trailer park trash, troublemakers, destined for nothing. you didn’t flinch at the bruises he didn’t explain, or the scars he wouldn’t talk about. you were his anchor, his light. but now, everytime you smiled at him or touched his arm, it felt like something inside him was breaking apart and putting itself back together all at once.

that summer wasn’t just about the heat, the bad decisions, or the endless nights spent sitting under a starless sky. it was about the weight of knowing you could only hold onto each other for so long before something— or someone —pulled you apart.

neither of you had the words to say it yet, but you both knew: the end of your childhood was here, and whatever seemed to come next would either bring you both closer or tear you apart for good.

if you enjoyed this, please give it a like/reblog! your support always means the world to me 🫶🏻

stay tuned for the first chapter! if you’d like me to add a tag list, comment below!

[mintyys-blog]

Hii can I request a mark x raven reader where mark is dating eve but they keep it in the down low but when reader started working with them as a new member he started growing a crush on her a huge one at that and he tells William abt it and William’s like if you want her get her and he lists all her good qualities that makes mark even more persistent with trying to get with reader, mark starts pursuing her and eventually they become close much to eves dismay and eve grows suspicious of mark and his whereabouts one night and decides to follow him and sees him and reader making love in marks bed at his house and eves hurt and mad and confronts them and gives mark the decision to either leave reader or stay with eve and he chooses to be with reader, mainly angst on eves part and heavy smut between reader and mark :3

CALM BEFORE THE STORM — mark grayson x raven! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: cheating, lying, eves dad, mention of emotional neglect, manipulation, emotional manipulation, reader is a bad friend.

Mark had been struggling. His life, constantly split between his roles as Mark Grayson and Invincible, was beginning to feel like it was too much. Everything had changed when his baby brother Oliver got his powers—he now had to look after him, guide him, be a role model, all while dealing with the chaos Angstrom Levy had left in his wake. His mind was a mess, and even though he tried to put on a brave face, it was getting harder to hide the stress.

That was when Y/N joined the team.

She was different from anyone else. Not in an obvious way, but something about her presence was calming, almost otherworldly. She wasn’t the loudest, but her quiet confidence and the way she seemed to understand people without saying a word caught Mark’s attention. She kept to herself, focusing mainly on meditation and maintaining a peaceful presence. When the others spoke to her, she was always kind, but there was something mysterious about her—a depth to her that Mark couldn’t quite figure out.

It was after a particularly rough day when Mark found himself crossing paths with her. He could tell something was off. His usual energy, his bravado as Invincible, was wearing thin. Y/N noticed it almost immediately, her empathic abilities alerting her to his inner turmoil.

“Mark,” she said softly one evening, as the two of them walked side by side, “you’re struggling. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”

Mark looked at her, surprised by her insight. He tried to brush it off. “I’m fine, Y/N. Just… trying to keep everything together.”

But she wasn’t buying it. “You’re not fine. Your mind is filled with too much noise. Have you ever tried meditation?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Mark looked at her, skeptical. “Meditation? You’re serious? I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

She gave him a small smile, a knowing look in her eyes. “It’s worth a shot. I can teach you. It’s helped me a lot. Let me show you how to clear your mind, even if it’s just for a little while.”

Mark wasn’t convinced, but something in her sincerity made him agree. “Alright, fine. I’ll give it a shot.”

The next day, they met up in a quiet corner of the team’s base. Y/N sat cross-legged, floating a few inches off the ground. Mark sat across from her, looking at her with a mix of curiosity and doubt. He tried to copy her posture, crossing his legs, trying to clear his mind, but all he could think about was the mess of his life.

“Alright,” Y/N began, her voice calm and steady. “The first thing you want to do is take a deep breath in, and out. Breathing is important in meditation—it helps center you. Focus on your breath.”

Mark did as instructed, inhaling deeply, then exhaling slowly. He kept his eyes closed, hoping to relax. But even as he tried, the thoughts wouldn’t stop. The pressure of his responsibilities, the weight of Angstrom’s consequences, and his own fears about his future were all flooding his mind. He could feel Y/N’s presence next to him, her calm energy in stark contrast to his storm of emotions.

“Mark,” she said softly, breaking through his chaos. “You aren’t letting go. You’re still holding onto everything. Try to release it.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her, frustration creeping into his voice. “I’m trying, okay? It’s just not that easy.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes glowing faintly. “I can help you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can go into your mind and ease your worry—temporarily. If you want.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “You can do that?”

She nodded. “I can. It’ll help you get used to letting go. But you have to trust me.”

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed, letting go of his reservations. “Sure, I guess.”

Y/N’s eyes glowed brighter, her power now fully engaged. Mark felt a strange pressure in his mind as she entered, and suddenly, everything around him went quiet. All the noise—the endless thoughts, the pressure, the worry—was silenced. It was as if someone had turned down the volume on his life.

He let out a long sigh of relief, feeling the weight lift from his shoulders. His mind felt clear for the first time in ages.

“Wow,” he said, his voice soft. “That actually feels a lot better. Thanks.”

Y/N smiled, floating back to the ground and settling beside him. “It’s temporary. But you’ll learn how to do this on your own with time. It takes practice.”

Mark grinned, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “So, I guess you’re not just some goth girl who does weird stuff? You’re pretty amazing.”

She flicked his forehead lightly. “Try again, Mark. Now that your mind is clear, meditate on your own. No distractions this time.”

Mark chuckled, grateful for her guidance, and closed his eyes once more. This time, he focused, trying to quiet the noise on his own. And it worked. The peace he felt was like calm waves washing over him, steady and soothing. For the first time in a long while, he could relax, if only for a moment.

When they finished, Mark opened his eyes, a sense of tranquility settling over him. “That was… amazing. I think I actually get it now.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes softening as she nodded. “It takes time. But you’ll get there.”

Mark sat in silence for a moment, his thoughts no longer racing. For the first time in a while, he felt like he could breathe. But as he glanced over at Y/N, a new, unspoken connection began to form between them, one that wasn’t just about their abilities but about something deeper. Something he wasn’t sure he was ready to admit, but that was starting to take root.

And so, the pursuit began.

It was a quiet evening when Mark found himself standing outside Y/N’s room, his mind once again overwhelmed with the chaos of his life. Oliver, Angstrom, the guilt of his dual identity as Invincible—it all felt like too much. His recent meditation sessions with Y/N had brought some peace, but tonight, he felt the weight of everything bearing down on him more than ever.

He knocked lightly on her door, his nerves catching him off guard. Y/N opened it almost immediately, as though she had been expecting him. Her calm demeanor instantly put him at ease.

“Hey,” he greeted, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

“Come in,” she said with a gentle smile, stepping aside to let him through. The soft glow of her room, the faint scent of incense, and the quiet serenity that seemed to surround her instantly put Mark in a more relaxed state. “What’s on your mind tonight?”

Mark sighed deeply, feeling the tension in his shoulders. “Same old stuff,” he said. “I just can’t seem to shut it off, you know? Can we do some meditation?”

“Of course,” she said, leading him to a spot on the floor. “Let’s clear your mind. I’ll help you.”

Mark sat down cross-legged across from her, and Y/N began guiding him through the process, her voice soft and soothing. As they floated in the air, breathing deeply, Mark began to feel his thoughts slow, the noise starting to fade. But he was still struggling to let go fully. His mind was restless, thinking about the responsibilities weighing on him, the tensions with Eve, and the guilt he carried every day. The silence of the room seemed to amplify his internal struggle.

Y/N’s voice broke through the silence. “Mark, you’re still holding on,” she said softly, her eyes glowing as she turned her attention to him. “You need to let go. I can help. Would you like that?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I need help.”

Her eyes glowed brighter as she entered his mind once more, easing his worries, silencing the storm inside him. He relaxed, the relief flooding through him as his thoughts finally quieted.

But just as he was beginning to find peace, he heard a soft knock on the door. It was Eve.

Mark’s heart sank. He hadn’t meant for Eve to find out about these late-night sessions with Y/N. He stood up, looking at Y/N, who nodded reassuringly, as if she already knew what was coming. Mark opened the door to find Eve standing there, her face a mixture of concern and suspicion.

“Mark,” Eve said, her voice tight. “I’ve been looking for you. You’ve been… distant lately. And I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with Y/N. What’s going on?”

Mark opened his mouth to explain, but before he could, Y/N stepped forward, her calm presence immediately soothing the tension in the room.

“Eve,” Y/N said with a gentle smile, “I’ve been helping Mark with meditation. He’s been struggling with a lot of things, and I’ve been trying to help him clear his mind, ease the stress. It’s been a weekly thing for a while now. It’s not what you think.”

Eve’s expression softened as she processed the information. The anger and hurt that had flashed in her eyes began to dissipate, replaced with a quiet understanding. “I thought… I thought you were cheating on me,” Eve admitted, her voice small.

Y/N sensed the shift in Eve’s emotions—guilt, confusion, and a deep sense of hurt. She took a step forward, her empathic abilities allowing her to feel the turmoil Eve was experiencing. With a gentle smile, Y/N said, “Eve, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I didn’t want to cause any tension between you two. Mark needed this, and I was just offering support.”

Eve’s eyes flickered between Mark and Y/N, processing everything. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. “I’m sorry, Mark. I should’ve trusted you.” She looked at Y/N. “I didn’t realize… I’ve just been so worried. I didn’t want to lose him.”

Y/N smiled softly, sensing Eve’s vulnerability. “It’s understandable. Relationships are hard, especially when there’s so much going on. But sometimes, all we need is a little help to find balance again.”

Eve nodded slowly, her gaze flicking back to Mark. “I didn’t mean to make this harder than it already is. I’ve just been feeling so lost with everything, too.”

Y/N’s smile widened, sensing Eve’s sincerity. “Sam,” she said, using the nickname for Eve she’d picked up from their interactions, “why don’t you join us? There’s room for both of you. It might help you find some peace as well.”

Eve hesitated, but after a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, I think I could use that.”

Mark, still processing the conversation, looked at Eve, relieved to see her willingness to move past the misunderstanding. “You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said gently, offering her a warm smile.

But Eve, with a deep breath, smiled back. “I think it could help. I want to be able to trust you more, Mark. And if this can help us… then I’m willing to try.”

The three of them sat together, Eve joining them in the peaceful floating meditation. Y/N guided them both through the process, and for the first time in a long while, the room felt truly peaceful. Eve, though still carrying the weight of the tension, began to relax, her mind slowly letting go of her worries. Mark, now with both of them there, felt a sense of balance return.

As they meditated together, Y/N’s presence was a constant reminder that even in the midst of turmoil, peace could be found if they were willing to work together. And for the first time in a while, all three of them found a sense of calm, not just in their minds, but in the fragile trust they were rebuilding.

It had been a few weeks since the tension between Eve, Mark, and Y/N had settled, but the cracks were still there. Eve had been showing up to the meditation sessions without Mark sometimes. She would sit quietly, eyes downcast, her thoughts clearly swirling with a mixture of emotions she didn’t know how to handle. Her past with Rex, the lingering doubts in her relationship with Mark, and the deep-seated fear of being hurt again weighed heavily on her.

One evening, after a particularly difficult day filled with stress and lingering resentment, Eve arrived at Y/N’s room. She didn’t speak immediately, but Y/N could sense the heaviness in her heart. The emotional turmoil was palpable.

Y/N stood up from her spot on the floor and walked over to Eve. “Hey,” she said softly. “I can tell something’s on your mind. You want to talk about it?”

Eve looked at her, the mask she often wore of being strong and collected faltering. She nodded slowly, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know why I keep doing this. I keep pushing Mark away. I don’t trust him, and I’m scared I’m making the same mistakes I made before. Rex—he cheated on me, you know? And I can’t shake this feeling that Mark will do the same thing, and I’ll end up hurt again.”

Y/N listened carefully, her heart aching for Eve. She understood the fear of betrayal all too well, and she knew the pain of being stuck in a cycle of mistrust. Eve had been through so much, and this fear—it wasn’t something she could just turn off.

Y/N placed a gentle hand on Eve’s. “Eve,” she said softly, her voice soothing, “I understand. It’s okay to feel like that. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s not easy to just switch off that kind of fear. You’re not alone in feeling this way.”

Eve’s breath caught, her eyes filling with tears she had been holding back for so long. “I just… I don’t want to lose him. But every time I feel like I’m getting close to trusting him again, I remember Rex, and everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

Y/N squeezed her hand, offering her a comforting smile. “It’s understandable. What you went through with Rex—it’s hard to forget. You’ve been hurt, and that kind of pain takes time to heal.”

There was a pause, a heavy silence hanging in the room. Y/N hesitated before speaking again, her voice soft and careful. “I… I’m sorry about this, Eve, but I need to tell you something. I read your mind.”

Eve’s eyes widened in shock, the sudden revelation catching her off guard. “You… you read my mind?” Her voice was a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “How could you…?”

Y/N nodded slowly, her expression apologetic. “I know this probably feels like an invasion of privacy, but I had to understand the pain you were carrying before I could help ease it. I can’t help someone heal unless I understand where it hurts. And when I did, I saw… well, I saw a lot, especially about your father.”

Eve was silent for a moment, the reality of what Y/N had said settling over her. Her father—someone who had always made her feel like she wasn’t good enough, who had never shown her the love and support she deserved. It was a pain that Eve had buried deep within herself for years. It wasn’t something she often spoke about, but it had shaped her in ways she couldn’t ignore.

Y/N’s voice was soft, full of empathy. “I’m sorry, Eve. No one should have a family like that. No one should feel like they’re constantly fighting for approval and never getting it. You deserve so much more than that.”

Eve felt her heart constrict in her chest. The tears she had been holding back began to spill over. “I’ve always felt like I wasn’t enough. My dad… he never wanted to be around me— wanted me to be a normal kid. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove I’m worthy, and it’s exhausting. I thought I was stronger than this… but it still hurts. And I’m afraid that Mark will leave me just like everyone else.”

Y/N’s heart ached for her, but she stayed calm, offering her support. “It’s okay, Eve. You’ve been carrying this pain for so long, and it’s not something that can just disappear overnight. But you’re not alone anymore. You have people who care about you. Mark does care about you, and I know it’s hard to trust that. But you don’t have to carry this weight on your own.”

Eve wiped her eyes, feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow. She looked at Y/N, her eyes searching for something. “I never told anyone about my dad. Not like this. I’ve always kept it inside.”

Y/N smiled gently, her eyes warm with understanding. “I’m glad you trusted me with it. And if you ever want to talk more about it, I’m here. Not as your teacher for meditation, but as a friend. I’ll always listen, Eve.”

Eve’s breath caught, a soft sob escaping her as she nodded, overwhelmed by the kindness Y/N was offering. “I’d like that,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I… I think I need a friend more than anything right now.”

Y/N shifted her position, moving closer to Eve. “Then you’ve got one. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Eve smiled, the weight of her pent-up emotions finally starting to lift, even if just a little. “Thank you, Y/N. I didn’t know I needed this, but… I really do.”

As they sat together, Eve felt a sense of peace she hadn’t realized she’d been craving. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she could breathe without the burden of her past holding her back. And for the first time, she truly understood that healing didn’t have to be a solitary journey.

As the weeks went by, Y/N became a constant presence in Eve’s life—a steady, calming force amidst the storm of emotions that had often overwhelmed her. What began as a professional relationship through meditation evolved into something far deeper. Eve found herself turning to Y/N not only for guidance during their meditation sessions but also for moments of vulnerability and self-reflection.

Y/N’s gentle nature and unwavering support made it easier for Eve to open up about things she had never spoken of before. Each conversation felt like a weight being lifted from her shoulders. The more Eve allowed herself to trust Y/N, the more she realized just how much of her own pain she had been carrying—how much of it she had kept hidden for years.

One evening, after a particularly long day of training and team missions, Eve found herself standing outside Y/N’s door once again. She hadn’t planned on talking, but something had been gnawing at her all day. Mark had been distant, and Eve could feel the strain in their relationship growing. Her old fears of abandonment resurfaced, and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

Y/N opened the door with a knowing smile, as if she’d been expecting Eve.

“Hey,” Eve greeted, her voice tired but warm.

“Hey, Eve,” Y/N replied softly. “Come in. You look like you’ve had a long day.”

Eve stepped inside, the familiar, calming atmosphere of Y/N’s room immediately easing her tension. The soft glow of candles and the faint scent of lavender filled the air. It was always like this—Y/N’s space felt like an oasis, a refuge from the chaos of the outside world.

“I don’t know… I just can’t seem to shake this feeling,” Eve said, sitting down on the cushion across from Y/N. “Mark… he’s been acting distant. And I keep thinking about all the things he’s dealing with, but I don’t know how to help him. I feel like I’m losing him, like he’s slipping away.”

Y/N sat down beside her, her voice calm and soothing. “It’s okay, Eve. Relationships go through rough patches, especially when there’s so much stress and so many outside pressures. It’s hard to be fully present when there’s so much on your mind, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

Eve sighed, the weight of her concerns heavy in her chest. “I don’t know if I’m good enough for him anymore. I know I’ve been pushing him away, but I’m scared of being hurt again. I’ve done it before. I did it with Rex, and now I’m doing it with Mark. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze understanding. “You’re not alone in that fear, Eve. We all carry baggage from the past—things we’re afraid will repeat, things we don’t know how to let go of. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of love or trust. You are.”

Eve blinked, surprised by the sincerity in Y/N’s voice. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Y/N said firmly. “You deserve to be loved and supported, just like anyone else. And it’s okay to have doubts, but you have to remember that not everyone will repeat the same mistakes. Mark’s not Rex, and he’s not going to abandon you the way you’ve been abandoned before. It’s just hard for you to see that because of everything you’ve been through.”

Tears welled up in Eve’s eyes again, but this time, it wasn’t from the fear of being hurt—it was from the relief of being seen, of having someone truly understand her pain. “I wish I could believe that,” she whispered.

Y/N reached over and gently took her hand, squeezing it. “You will, Eve. But it’s going to take time. And it’s okay to lean on people while you figure things out. You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

Eve smiled, her heart lightening just a little. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t think I’d be getting through this without you.”

Y/N smiled back, her eyes warm. “That’s what friends are for.”

Over time, the bond between them grew stronger. Eve found herself confiding in Y/N more and more, whether it was about her fears regarding Mark, her struggles with her own self-worth, or even the frustrations she had with her family. Y/N listened without judgment, offering advice when needed but mostly just providing a safe space for Eve to express herself.

One night, as they sat together after a particularly emotional session, Eve let out a shaky breath. “I feel like I’m always trying to be strong for everyone. For Mark, for the team. But sometimes I just want to break down and not have to worry about holding it all together.”

Y/N gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to always be strong, Eve. It’s okay to let go and lean on others. You’re human, not a superhero. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

Eve’s eyes softened as she looked at Y/N, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before.”

“I’m telling you now,” Y/N replied. “You’re allowed to be vulnerable. You’re allowed to ask for help. And you don’t have to do it all on your own.”

The next day, Eve found herself walking into Mark’s room, her mind clearer than it had been in a long time. She wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t free from the fears that still lingered in the back of her mind, but she felt more at peace with herself.

Mark looked up from his desk, his expression softening when he saw her. “Hey, Eve.”

“Hey,” she said, her voice calmer than usual. “I’ve been thinking. About us. About everything.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in her demeanor. “What’s on your mind?”

Eve took a deep breath, then walked over to him, sitting down beside him. “I’ve been pushing you away, I know. But I think… I think I’ve been afraid of being hurt again. I’ve been holding onto all this fear, but I’m ready to let it go. I want to trust you, Mark. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

Mark’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on her arm. “Eve, you don’t have to apologize. I get it. I’m not perfect either, but I care about you. And I’m here, okay?”

Eve smiled, a genuine, soft smile. “Okay. I’m here too.”

Later that evening, as Eve sat in her room, she thought about how far she had come. She had started this journey with walls built high around her heart, but now, with Y/N’s support, she was learning to tear those walls down—brick by brick. She wasn’t there yet, but she was closer than she had ever been. And for the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t alone in this battle. Y/N had become not just a mentor but a true friend, someone Eve could count on no matter what. And for that, Eve was more grateful than words could express. Little did she know how quickly that would change.

That night, Mark couldn’t shake the remnants of the nightmare that had plagued him for hours. His mind was swirling with images of Angstrom Levy standing over the lifeless bodies of his mother and brother. The guilt gnawed at him, intensifying with every passing second. How could he protect the people he loved if his own powers made them more vulnerable? The more he thought about it, the more desperate he felt.

Unable to sleep, he found himself standing outside Y/N’s door, her presence always a calming relief. He knocked softly, his heart racing, and when she opened the door, her eyes softened at the sight of him.

“Mark?” Y/N’s voice was gentle, laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t need to say anything. She could feel the turmoil in his mind, the chaos that had taken root there. Mark stepped inside without a word, his gaze distant. She immediately led him to her meditation space, where the air felt cooler, calming, and welcoming.

“You’ve been fighting the weight of the world, haven’t you?” she asked softly, her eyes searching his face. Mark sat down slowly, sinking into the cushions as if the weight of the world was too much to carry on his own.

“I keep seeing them,” Mark said quietly, his voice strained. “My mom… my brother. In my nightmares, Angstrom’s the one who kills them. I can’t stop him. I can’t protect them.”

Y/N sat beside him, her presence grounding him. She didn’t rush to offer advice or empty reassurances. She just listened, her steady silence giving him the space to vent his fears.

Mark let out a deep breath, his hands gripping the fabric of his pants. “What if I’m not strong enough to protect them? What if… what if I fail them? What if I can’t save them when it matters most?”

Y/N gently placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him slightly so they were facing one another. “Mark, you’re literally invincible. Nothing will happen to you. You are stronger than anyone could imagine.”

He shook his head, a deep frown pulling at his face. “That’s the problem, though. I’m invincible, but they’re not. They can get hurt, and they can’t recover like I can. I… I’m afraid of failing them, of not being able to stop Angstrom in time.”

Her heart ached for him. The weight of his responsibility was suffocating, and even though he had the power to protect, it only seemed to magnify his fear. “I understand, Mark,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “Angstrom is still out there, and you don’t know what he’s planning. But for now, you need to be with your family. You need to enjoy the moments with them. Because when the time comes again, you’ll be ready to stop him—once and for all.”

Mark took a shaky breath, his eyes locking onto hers as he processed her words. She wasn’t telling him to stop worrying; she wasn’t giving him some easy answer. She was giving him permission to pause, to find some peace amidst the chaos.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His hand found hers, and for a moment, it was as if all the doubt and the fear he had been carrying didn’t matter. It was just the two of them, here and now.

Slowly, his gaze softened, and before Y/N could say another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was gentle at first but grew more desperate, more needy as the weight of the moment pressed on him. He pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against hers.

“Mark,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling just a little. “What about Eve?”

The question hung in the air, a reminder of the tangled emotions that were always just beneath the surface. Mark froze, his heart skipping a beat. He had been avoiding that question, pushing it away, pretending it didn’t exist when he was with Y/N.

“I…” Mark started, his words faltering as the weight of the truth became undeniable. “I forget about her when I’m with you.”

Y/N smiled, a dark, knowing smile that spoke volumes. Her eyes glinted with something that sent a shiver down Mark’s spine. “Good,” she whispered.

The single word was enough to send a surge of tension through the room. Mark stared at her, his breath hitching as the implications of her words settled in. He had crossed a line, one he couldn’t easily erase. Eve was still in the picture, but in this moment, with Y/N close, he couldn’t deny that she had a hold on him. And it was undeniable.

Y/N’s hand slid to his jaw, gently tilting his face up to hers. Her eyes searched his, deep and unwavering, as if she were reading him in ways he didn’t even understand himself.

“I know you’re conflicted, Mark,” she murmured, her thumb lightly tracing his lower lip. “But you don’t have to choose right now. Just be here, with me, in this moment. No one else matters right now.”

Mark nodded slowly, his chest tightening. “I don’t know how this happened… I don’t know how I went from being with Eve to…” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the thought.

Y/N silenced him with another kiss, this one lingering longer, more possessive, as if claiming what was hers. When she pulled away, her voice was softer, but there was an edge to it now. “You don’t need to worry about that. We’ll figure it out, one step at a time.”

Mark was still caught in the whirlwind of emotions and confusion, but for the first time in a long while, he felt at peace. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to stop thinking about the responsibilities, the burdens, and the pain. All that mattered was Y/N. She was there—calm, steady, the only constant in his life.

He leaned in again, kissing her with a desperation that spoke louder than any words he could say. The kiss deepened, and Mark lost himself in the moment, the weight of his worries and responsibilities momentarily fading away. Y/N’s presence enveloped him, grounding him in a way that nothing else could. The uncertainty and fear that had been consuming him for days seemed to melt away with each touch, each breath they shared. It felt like an escape—a fleeting respite from everything that waited for him outside this space.

But as the kiss slowed and they pulled apart, the reality of their situation crashed back down on Mark. He could feel the pulse of his conflict racing through his chest. His mind screamed at him that what he was doing was wrong, but another part of him—the part that had always felt like a burdened hero—was telling him that he deserved this, deserved to be with someone who made him feel seen, someone who understood the chaos in his mind without judgment.

Y/N’s gaze softened as she looked up at him, sensing the shift in his mood. “Mark,” she said softly, her voice a whisper that made his name feel like an anchor in the storm of his emotions. “You don’t have to explain. I know what you’re feeling.”

He swallowed hard, his heart racing. “I don’t know what’s happening, Y/N. I can’t think straight. I’ve never… I’ve never felt like this before. I care about Eve, but when I’m with you, everything else just… disappears.”

Y/N placed a hand on his chest, her touch gentle but firm. “It’s okay, Mark. You don’t need to have all the answers right now. Just… just be with me, in this moment. Let everything else wait.”

Mark closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath as he leaned his forehead against hers. He felt her warmth, her calm, and he wanted nothing more than to stay in this space with her—untouched by the chaos of his world.

But deep down, he knew he couldn’t ignore Eve forever. He couldn’t keep pretending that this wasn’t complicated, that there weren’t people he cared about who were involved in all of this. “I can’t just forget about Eve,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I care about her, too. I can’t… I can’t hurt her.”

Y/N’s fingers traced the edge of his jaw as she tilted his face toward hers, her eyes locking with his. “Mark,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “You’re not a villain for having feelings. But you also can’t ignore them. The truth will come out, eventually. And you’ll have to face it. But for now, you’re here, with me. And I’m not going anywhere.” He let her words sink in, and for a moment, he just stared at her, searching her eyes for any trace of doubt or hesitation. But there was nothing—just a quiet, unwavering certainty in her gaze.

As much as it pained him to admit it, he was already too far gone. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t drawn to her, that he didn’t crave the way she made him feel. With Y/N, everything was easier. The weight of his responsibility as Invincible seemed lighter, the burden of his powers less suffocating. But at the same time, he knew he was on a dangerous path.

“Mark,” Y/N said, pulling him out of his thoughts, “I know you’re torn. But you don’t have to carry everything by yourself. You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. Take the time you need. Let yourself breathe. Let yourself feel.”

He nodded, his chest tight. It wasn’t an answer, but it was a step toward peace—at least for the moment. He couldn’t promise her everything, but he could give her this—his time, his attention, his presence. And in return, Y/N offered him a sense of solace, a brief reprieve from the never-ending cycle of stress and responsibility. But as he sat there, holding her, his thoughts still raced. How long could he keep this up? How long could he hide the truth from Eve, from everyone?

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Y/N smiled softly, running her fingers through his hair. “Anytime, Mark. Anytime.”

She could feel the weight of his doubts, the unresolved conflict deep within him. But for now, she would let him find solace in the one place he could. In her arms. For Mark, the night felt like an oasis—a fleeting moment of calm in the midst of a storm that was bound to come crashing back sooner or later.

⸻

The next morning, Mark woke up to the sound of birds outside and the soft light filtering through Y/N’s window. He had fallen asleep on her couch, his head resting on her lap. He blinked, trying to clear the haze of sleep from his mind, but the reality of the previous night came rushing back. He felt a pang of guilt—he had betrayed Eve’s trust, even though he hadn’t officially made any decisions. The conflict inside him hadn’t gone away. It still lingered, a constant reminder that he couldn’t keep running from the truth.

Y/N was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed as she meditated. Mark couldn’t help but admire the way she always seemed so centered, so at peace with herself, even in the face of everything that had happened.

“Morning,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Morning. Sleep well?” Mark nodded, though he didn’t feel entirely rested. He stood up, stretching. “I did, actually. I don’t think I’ve had a peaceful night like that in weeks.”

She tilted her head slightly, sensing his mood. “You still have a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low. “I’m just… I’m not sure where to go from here.”

Y/N stood and walked over to him, her gaze steady and understanding. “It’s okay, Mark. You’ll figure it out. Just take things one step at a time.” Mark met her gaze, trying to reconcile the feelings inside him. “I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

“You don’t have to. But you do have to decide what matters most to you,” she replied softly.

He swallowed hard, realizing that she was right. As much as he wanted to pretend everything would be fine, he knew it wouldn’t be. The choices he made now would have lasting consequences.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice whispered that he couldn’t keep running from the truth forever.

⸻

Later that day, Mark found himself walking back to his apartment, his steps heavy with the burden of the decisions he still had to make. He knew he couldn’t continue down this path with Y/N without confronting his feelings for Eve. He couldn’t avoid the reality of his situation any longer.

As he opened the door to his apartment, the sight of Eve waiting for him on the couch made his stomach tighten. She looked up when he entered, her eyes tired, but hopeful. “Mark,” she said softly. “We need to talk.”

PART TWO

[harstyle]

the styles’ nanny

Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 7.3k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet

A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.

And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.

It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.

But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Oh,” Y/N was snapped back following a short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”

She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.

“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”

Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.

“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”

Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.

Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”

“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”

He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”

“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”

Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He never let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

—

“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”

“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”

Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.

But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this outburst worried her. “I just want ice cream!”

“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”

Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”

“Please, I just want ice cream.”

It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.

“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”

He merely shook his head.

Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore

Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.

Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.

Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.

“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”

She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his hands just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”

Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.

“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”

“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”

He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.

“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”

In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.

Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.

“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”

“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”

“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”

“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”

He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”

And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.

Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”

She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.

She could probably indulge a little then, right?

“Yeah, I do.”

He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.

“You can now?”

“Yes.”

He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.

What the fuck was that?

Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.

It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.

So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.

And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.

A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.

It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.

“Daddy?”

Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.

Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”

He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re still here.”

She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”

He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.

“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”

Her stomach did another flip.

Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!

Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.

“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”

He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”

Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”

“Missed you, daddy.”

She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.

Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”

In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”

“Will you be here too, Y/N?”

Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.

But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”

To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”

Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”

“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”

“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”

It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.

After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”

“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”

She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”

She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.

“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”

She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”

He hummed in agreement.

She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.

“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Kay. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.

“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”

“It’s my job to be good to him.”

“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”

“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”

The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.

So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.

She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”

His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”

“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”

It was a lie, of course it was.

“Fine.”

As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.

Shit.

—

Y/N was crying.

She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?

And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.

Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.

She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.

There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.

But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.

“Y/N?”

She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What had she done?

“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”

“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“

“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”

“The viper.”

“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”

“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.

When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.

“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”

He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.

He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.

After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”

And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.

“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.

“Harry, I’m sor—“

“Drink the water.”

She almost flinched at his angry tone.

Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”

All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.

“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”

Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.

In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”

She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?

“What?”

“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”

The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.

He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.

Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”

Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it

“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”

He truly did have a point there, she supposed.

But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”

“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”

“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.

“What do you mean?”

He couldn’t be so daft, could he?

“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”

That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.

She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”

He was probably right about that.

“Okay.”

As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.

He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”

“Um, if you have something?”

She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.

He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”

Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”

Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.

When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.

Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You’re really nice t’me.”

“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”

“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.

What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.

He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.

It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.

He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.

There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.

It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observation because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.

He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.

He would lie awake until sunrise.

—

Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.

God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.

After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”

“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.

He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.

Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.

He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.

“I— are you okay?”

It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”

“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“

His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”

Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.

But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?

“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”

And that… well, was partly right.

“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”

Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.

“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“

“I know that—“

“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”

Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.

There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.

“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”

“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”

Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you be any type of way.”

He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”

“You act like I don’t know that!”

“Evidently you don’t.”

“Yes I d—“

“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”

It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.

Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.

Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.

“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”

She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.

She’d fucked up so badly.

And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.

-

part two!

And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!

[apricot-blossomss]

If you're still accepting requests would you be willing to do Hermes with fem!reader who has body image issues? Like not feeling like she's worthy of him or will hold his attention? I LOVED the way you wrote the last one of him stealing all of reader's stuff; no pressure tho if you don't want to do this subject. Thanks for your time! 💜🐝

☛ hermes x mortal! fem! reader with body image issues

☛ sfw; cw: body image issues, self deprecating thoughts, anxiety

It felt utterly unreal. The temples and palaces, shining in a golden hue, the impossibly delicious food and, most of all, the guests of the party. Was it a wise decision to have your first time on Olympus be visiting a divine festival? No. Were you utterly overwhelmed by everything here? Yes. Definitely.

A hand found yours and you turned around, startled, only to find Hermes smiling at you. His hair was uncharacteristically orderly, bronze curls framing his face carefully, not as disheveled as usual, after a day of work and flying around. "Hey sweetheart, enjoying yourself?" You nodded and hoped your smile didn't seem too forced. And it was beautiful here, just too much for your poor mortal eyes to comprehend.

It wasn't only gods attending the festival. When you looked over the crowd, you spotted centaurs, nymphs and satyrs as well, and even a few mortals like you, if you were seeing correctly. But the majority of the guests were major and minor gods and goddesses, though in their human form, still almost too beautiful to look at. Like Hermes in the beginning. But during the last months, you had seen him almost every day, and could at least look at him without having an an aneurysm- or a body image crisis.

Hermes squeezed your hand and you looked up at him. The excited grin he gave you had you a little worried. It was the grin of cream smeared in your face when eating cake and several items disappearing in strange correlation to his frequent visits. The god leaned down to your height - even in his human form, he was still a lot taller than you. "Wanna meet my family?"

No, gods, please, no.

"Uhm," you said, unconsciously fiddling with his fingers which always calmed you down. But he knew that, too. Hermes caught your restless fingers and brought them to his lips to press a light kiss onto them. "You don't have to. We can just stay here, if you want. All your call, baby."

Having lost the ability to fiddle with his fingers, you chewed on your bottom lip. When you looked back at him, your voice was thin and full of doubt. "I don't get- I mean, why would you want to introduce me to your family?"

The god's smile widened even further and he pecked the tip of your nose affectionately. "I want to show my amazing girlfriend off, obviously." You wanted to glare at him for messing with you, but he looked so earnest that you couldn't help but believe him. Instead, you let out a small and only slightly bitter laugh. "Show me off? Have you ever even looked at me, Hermes?"

"Plenty," he hummed, covering your cheeks and temple with kisses. "Why would I not look at my stunning girlfriend?" Embarrassingly, you realized that quite a few bystanders were giving you stares and whispers. Not him, he was a god. You. Probably wondering if the god's newest fling really was the ugliest girl at the party.

"'M not," you whispered, because you suspected some of these people had an excellent hearing beyond the limits of your mortal one. You put your hand over Hermes lips, but he only peppered your palm with kisses, moving up your arm to the ticklish spot and you giggled involuntarily. The triumphant smile he gave you was so utterly endearing you would have jumped him. If you weren't here.

"Please?" How were you supposed to say no to those eyes?

"Fine," you sighed, already regretting your decision. But Hermes was ecstatic, throwing an arm around you and guiding you through the crowd that made way for him wherever he walked. You tried to keep your head down and seem as invisible as possible, which, fortunately, wasn't that hard if you were standing next to a glowing diety.

"Brother!" someone called, someone the crowd made way for just as quickly, if not hastier, than Hermes. Your lover held you a bit more tightly but gave you a reassuring smile when a young man, decked out in gold that couldn't compare to the color of his shoulder-length locks, approached you. He ruffled Hermes' hair and then, his gaze wandered down to you. At first, he seemed surprised, no doubt because he was underwhelmed by your appearance, but the next second, he gave you a blinding smile. "And who do we have here?"

Hermes introduced you and then him as Apollo. The god huffed. "Do I really need an introduction? If so, I can give it for myself." You were a little unnerved by his smile, if was too bright, almost hurting your eyes. "I'm Apollo, god of all things beautiful and helpful to you mortals and thus, your favored diety."

"Spot's taken," Hermes said but he was grinning. With one look at your stressed glances, he leaned down to whisper: "he's harmless" You highly doubted that.

"So," the god drawled while looking you up and down. You were extremely uncomfortable. "You are the reason I've barely gotten a glance of my brother these last months." You were? Glancing at Hermes, you tried to think of the right answer. "Um... sorry"

"Where have you been hiding, Hermes?" a female voice called from behind and when you looked at the approaching you, your stomach dropped. It had to be Aphrodite, it had to be. Out of all the indescribably beautiful guests, she was the most striking and perfect. And the one you had dreaded seeing the most. You weren't stupid. You knew you were on the brink of spiraling into an abyss of body-hatred, and you were scared she would push you into it.

When she greeted Hermes, not even registering your presence, you suddenly remembered that they had had a kid together at some point, which only made your anxiety worse. You felt so utterly unworthy of Hermes in between all these gods that you wanted to carefully slip your hand out of his. Who were you to be holding a gods hand after all? But, realizing your intentions, Hermes only gripped it tighter. "Aphrodite, this is my girlfriend."

The way his voice was overflowing with boasting pride did warm your heart a little- until you saw the way Aphrodite looked at you. Surprised, at first, then undeniably sceptical. Her rose eyes looked you up and down and you started sweating under the weight of her gaze. Should you have worn something different? Was it ridiculous of you to be showing up in a dress this beautiful, attempting and failing miserably to be pretty? You were nothing but ugly and desperate and pathetic.

The goddess greeted you and you greeted back quietly, your flight instincts kicking in. "Hermes?" He turned to you, smiling brightly, but it faded a little when he saw the distress in your eyes. "I'm- I'm a little hungry, can I bring you something from the buffet?" Hungry. Great. Couldn't you think of a better way to get out of this situation? Not daring to look at the goddess, you kept your eyes fixated on Hermes who was searching your face for hints of what was wrong.

"Sure," he then said and leaned down to peck your cheek. "That cake looked fantastic." You were thinking more like drowning in misery.

Giving everyone a small smile and goodbye without looking at either of them, you slipped away as fast as possible. Getting to the buffet was way harder without Hermes, because the crowd got more and more dense, so you gave up and opted to break from it, finding a bench somewhere with less people. The buffet had never been your objective in the first place.

You couldn't cry. Not here. Not surrounded by the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Your gaze wandered over stunning nymphs and glowing goddesses with their perfect bodies and perfect smiles, looking so graceful in their flowing dresses. Why were you here? If you had been able to shed your skin right now, you would have. You would still be hideous, but not comparable to these women who you shrank next to.

Why were you here? How could Hermes endure your presence, knowing he could have so much more beautiful women instead, women who didn't get anxiety from parties and rudely ran away from him and his family. Women who laughed, and danced, and made other people laugh. Who were so much fun and so much more worthy than you. You were a nothing. A miserable, ugly nothing.

"Sweetheart?"

You didn't want to look at him. Instead, you opted to fix your gaze on a particularly stunning lady wearing blue. You felt longing well up inside of you. If you could only have her body, her face, her smile, her flowing hair. Maybe you could love yourself. Maybe Hermes could love you.

"The crowd by the buffet was to dense, I couldn't get through," you said quietly, not sure if he was still there. He was. Hermes sat down on the bench next to you and there you sat in silence for a few minutes. When you finally glanced over, you were surprised to find him fiddling with his fingers in his lap. Was he nervous? Did he want to break up with you?

"I'm sorry," you said. "Back with your family... that was so rude of me."

"What's wrong?" he asked and you were surprised at how worried he sounded. Finally, you looked at his face and his pleading eyes and your heart roared. Now you had made him worried. A great girlfriend you were. "Please," he said, getting a hold of your hands and leaning down to eye level. "Tell me. I want to help, but I'm not Apollo, I don't just look at someone and instantly know what they're feeling."

"It's nothing," you said quietly. "Just a bit nervous, I guess." He didn't say anything, and you realized he was waiting for you to elaborate. When you looked at him and saw the helpless look in his eyes, you felt yourself breaking and hid your face in your hands. "How can you even look at me?"

"What?" He sounded completely perplexed.

"I'm hideous!" you sobbed, stubbornly hiding your face away because you felt your hands dampened by tears. "I'm ugly and unattractive and unworthy and even attempting to be anything but that is an insult to all the beautiful women here. And I don't get why you are here with me, why you are with me after all, I mean- why would you do this to yourself? I'm not worthy of you, I-" Your rambling was interrupted by a desperate and tearful gasp for air but you hid your face away stubbornly.

"What?" His voice sounded thin and utterly confused. Then, you felt his hands on your wrists, softly prying them away from your tear-dampened face. You didn't have it in you to fight them.

"Listen... You are... better at this than me," the god said with a nervous chuckle. "Remember the time I was so exhausted I fell out of the window? And you ran me a bath and you made me get in and you... listened to my endless tired ramblings and laughed at my stupid jokes so hard the soap slipped out of your hands and hit me in the face? And then, you... made me go to bed and tell you what was really stressing me out and you just knew what to say. Like, the exact words to make me feel better. And I still don't get how."

Hermes breathed in through his mouth, fidgety but hopeful at the fact that you hadn't interrupted him yet. "Do you remember that hiking trip? I was wearing you out, it was probably too much for you, but you were so determined to get to the top in time for the sunset. And we did and you were so full of wonder. And sure, the view was amazing, but I couldn't look away from you because- I just couldn't. And I had planned to throw you off the edge and catch you a few meters down but I couldn't bring myself to do anything because you were so in awe and so beautiful-"

"I'm not," you said. "Have you even looked at-"

"Sweetheart, my eyes are in perfect shape," Hermes interrupted you firmly. "Yours aren't, because, apparently, you can't see just how beautiful you are. And how good you feel. How fun it is with you. Do you know why I am always so out of breath when I knock at your window? Because every second of the day I want to spend with you, all the time I possibly can, because it feels so right to be with you. So I rush and I show up gasping and sweating at your door and it always feels like coming home."

You were stunned. Could you believe him? How could you not? Hermes seemed to sense your conflict and you felt him slump against you. "Do you have any idea how many times my father has scolded me in the past months for being late to my duties? I don't care if you think you aren't enough. You've always been enough for me. You're more than that. You are in all of my dreams, always on my mind when I'm away."

He caught his breath. This was hard, but he had to convince you of the honesty of his feelings towards you, and he had to get all that crap out of your head. "I'm a god, why would I be with you if I didn't want to be, if I thought I could do better?"

"You can!"

"No, I can't!" he pressed, almost shouting. "No one makes me feel the way you do. Don't you see? You hold me in the palm of your hand, I'm yours!"

With widened and tearful eyes, you stared at him and his gaze softened. "May I?" You nodded, unsure what he was asking exactly. Hermes pulled you into his arms and you couldn't help but feel so loved when he held you tight.

"Can we leave?" you asked quietly and felt him laugh shakily against your shoulder. "Yes, let's get out of here."

Reluctantly, he pulled away and made you look at him. "Would you please believe me that I love you? Because I don't know what else to do. Do you want my shoes? My gardens? My palace? All my temples? I'd give them all to you, if you would just believe me."

"I think I might need a little while to get it," you sniffled quietly and in full earnestness. "I'm a little stuck here." You managed a small laugh.

The god looked at you with such tenderness you felt yourself blushing under his gaze. "Then I'll remind you every day until you believe me how beautiful you are."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I've Got You Under My Skin 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Summary: your husband is a very demanding man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The keys jingle loudly as you rush out the door with your purse in your other hand. You just need to get out of the house. Sometimes, it feels like a prison. Especially lately. Since the fight.

You feel horrid for what you did. You made a mistake, sure, but you think Steve is right. You weren't paying attention to what he said. Now that you think of it, you may have misinterpreted your conversation based entirely on your own doubts.

Still, you're going to show him that you can do this. You've been reading up on it all night. Researching everything you need.

As you hit the button on the key tag, the car beeps and unlocks. The SUV is a bit bigger than what you would pick but Steve thought it was a good family vehicle. Besides, it's his money.

"Hey," he startles you as he appears from beside the garage. You blink and drop the keys.

"Hi, Stevie," you blanch and bend to pick up the keys as he approaches.

"You're running out," he doesn't sound impressed.

"Um, yes, um, doing some errands. Groceries."

"You could order."

You gulp, "I'm sorry. I was only... wanting to get out."

"Alone?" He inquires.

"Yeah, what--"

"You're not meeting up with Natasha for one of those sugary coffees?" He challenges.

You wince. "No, Captain. I'm not drinking caffeine anymore. It's not good... for conception."

He tilts his head and his cheek dimples, "ah, good girl."

"Do you want to come with me?" You offer.

His shoulders ease, "no. You can go. Grab some more protein. The banana stuff?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Drive safe," he girds.

"I always do."

He nods and turns back, "I'm gonna finish up the weeds."

You stare after him as he marches away. What does he mean? You just dealt with the garden. Once again, not good enough.

You get in the car and adjust the wheel and the seat. You buckle up and set your feet on the pedals. You flip the engine and put it in reverse.

You back out through the gate and onto the street. You drive, jaw locked, fingers cramped, tense in anticipation. You just want to make this better. You just don't know if it's too late.

You go to the grocery store first. You get the few items on your list. You have a lot of the staples still in the cupboards. You check out and use Steve's card. You don't have one anymore. He's a lot better with money than you.

Your next adventure makes you nervous. You stop outside the shop and stare through the window at the stuffed bunnies and the onesies. The maternity shop makes it all so real. You still feel so young. But you can do this. With Steve. He knows what he's doing.

You enter and the air rushes from your chest. Oh. Okay. That breast pump makes you nervous.

"Hi, how can I help you?" A woman chimes an approaches in a bubbly bounce. Her blond ringlets are perfect.

"Ummmm..." you fidget with your phone. "I looked online. Um, for prenatal supplements."

"Ah, yes, we have a whole aisle," she waves her arm and turns to stand beside you. "Do you have questions?"

"A lot," you admit.

"How long have you been trying? Oh, are you already expecting?" She wonders.

The questions feel too personal. Still, it's not like you came here without a purpose. You follow her to the far wall lined with bottles and vials of tablets.

"We're trying. Right now. Starting to. I just want to be healthy." You explain.

"Uh, huh, wonderful," she rubs her hands together. "Some of these you won't need until you're expecting but we can get you a few things. Maybe just have a look around for some inspiration, huh?"

"Sure, that sounds... good."

She explains to you all the organic supplements and even recommends some aphrodisiacs. Thing is, Steve doesn't need those. You pick a few and follow her around as she shows you mobiles and blankies. There's a little Cap squishee even. You pick it up and smile. He'll love that.

You take your goods to the counter and she rings you up. You dig in your purse and hand your card to her. She reads it passingly then pauses. 

"I thought you were familiar. Your Mr. Rogers. The Mrs. Rogers."

You squirm. Oh no. You forget how famous Steve is. Well, it's fine. It's not like she would tell anyone you know, right?

You just nod, "do you have bags?"

"Oh yes, I'll put this all away for you," she unfolds a paper bag and loads it up. "Anything else, Mrs. Rogers."

"Yeah," you choke. "My name's..." you correct her. Sometimes, you just feel like a part of Steve. Not your own person. "Thanks."

You take the bag and your card and leave. You sniff as you get to car and climb into the front seat. You put your purchase in front of the passenger's and sit there a while. You feel weird about this.

Just nerves. You start the car and head home. The trip is too quick. You're not ready.

You get out with the small paper bag and go around the trunk to get the reusable one with the T-bone steak and protein powder. You hit the button to close the hatch and go inside. You'd love to stay out in the sun but you couldn't relax if you tried.

"Stevie?" You call as you reach the kitchen. "Hello?"

He doesn't answer. You wonder if he's outside. You set to putting everything away.

"You're back." He greets, once more frightening you. You hate that.

"I got steak for supper. For you. I'll have some turkey."

"Great," it's not a happy remark. "You didn't come straight home."

You look away guiltily and shake your head. You're so stupid. You know he must have a tracker on the car. You grab the white paper bag.

"I was getting surprises." You offer him the bag. "Stevie, please, I'm sorry. And I meant it. I am trying."

You hold it out and he reaches inside with a scowl. His brows move in curiosity and he pulls out the Captain America plush. His expression softens and he peeks into the bag.

"Supplements. To get ready. And I'll go back for iron pills once I'm ready," you explain. "And I've been reading all night about how to get a baby. I should lay on my back and stay after for a bit. And-- and I ordered a book."

He tosses the plush and grabs you. His hands frame your face as you drop the bag and he pushes you back into the counter. His mouth covers yours as he growls.

You whine and touch his chest, overcome by his force. You were so afraid he wouldn't forgive you, that you're entirely unprepared for this. You manage to pull back.

"I-- Stevie, it won't happen now. But I threw everything out."

"I don't care," he snarls and drops his hands to your hips, "I need you right now." 

He lifts you onto the counter and you squeal. Your stomach flips but you ignore that flicker of fear. How you feel doesn't matter, as long as the Captain's happy.

[zepskies]

Here are some of my favorites! (A revamp of my old rec list.) They will span Tumblr, Ao3, and FF.net, as I did a lot of my early reading/writing on other platforms.

Keep in mind, I probably like several fics from each of these authors, but I'm featuring one or two that I very much enjoyed.

SUPERNATURAL FIC RECS

[OS] = One-Shot || [S] = Series || [HC] = Headcanon

Dean Winchester x Reader or OFC:

Stories are Dean x Reader unless noted OFC.

✦ Alisha Ashton

Clear the Area - [S | Excellent 4-part series!] This is the story of you and Dean, and how he manages to slip past your defenses. Written so that you can put yourself in the OC's shoes. Sorta set end S8. Slightly AU in the fact that Dean, Sam, Castiel, Kevin, and YOU all live in the MOL Bunker. Everyone is healthy. Cas is still an adorably clueless angel with zero tact.

✦ @luci-in-trenchcoats

Feral [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) Feral is an Alpha’s most dangerous state. Pure raw instinct. A killing machine with no thought. Only an Alpha under extreme duress can submit to their feral side and they rarely can come back out of it. It takes highly specialized rehabilitation to even have a chance at working. When a feral Alpha comes into the reader’s low level rehab facility one night, she knows he’s a dead man walking. But he doesn’t deserve to die and a split second decision to help him escape before that can happen will put them both on the run. He’s no ordinary Alpha though. He’s Dean Winchester. The boy who went missing all those years ago. The boy that made everyone realize no one was safe from the Alpha black market. The man that could destroy them both with one wrong move…

Headcanon: How They Meet Their Plus Size Girlfriend [HC] (Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy, and Russell Shaw included)

✦ @deanbrainrotwritings

Wild Flower [OS] Dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. He was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. He’s a woman now. 

✦ @waynes-multiverse

Creature of the Night [OS] When her car breaks down on a dark lonely road, she is lucky a handsome stranger takes her in. Grateful, she is willing to do anything to repay his kindness.

Headcanon: Valentine's Day [HC] (Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition) How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean [HC] Smutty headcanons with Dean...

✦ @rizlowwritessortof

Take a Shot [OS] Let’s face it, his henley looks good on both of you…

Late Night Show [OS] You’re spending a little down time at Bobby’s when HE shows up with his brother. You try to ignore those old feelings for him, but when you accidentally walk in on him pleasuring himself, all bets are off. 

Lost in You [OS] A casual flirtation leads to a violent encounter, and Dean’s reaction is a little more than you expected.

That’s How It Should Be [OS] (Sheriff!Dean x Reader) Sheriff Dean Winchester/Reader have to escape, quick - but Dean won’t let being on horseback stand in the way of showing a lady a good time…

✦ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

The First Time Series [S] Even though he's a lot older than she is, and more experienced in every possible sense, Y/N finds herself incredibly attracted to Dean Winchester. Amazingly, one day she starts to think that maybe the attraction isn't all one-sided.

The Dangers of Hope [S | Endverse!Dean] When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

It's All For You [OS] After a hunt gone wrong, all Y/N wants is to make Dean feel better. Will he let her?

Things Learned and Unlearned [S] Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

✦ Lindsey D. Perez

Say I'm Beautiful [OS] You're feeling a little self conscious about your weight so Dean decides to show you how sexy you are. Dean x Reader Warning: negative body image, swearing Rated M for smut so go forth with caution.

✦ @ejlovespie

It Ain't About Pity [OS] (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) Dean Winchester has eyes for the reader. She has no idea. When he finally figures out why she’s been dieting, he isn’t pleased. 

✦ kittenofdoomage

More to Love [OS] (Alpha!Dean x Plus-Size Omega!Reader) Reader is a hunter, and an Omega, an unusual combination. She’s always been mocked for her size, so she keeps to herself but a case Garth persuades her to take ends up with a confrontation she never saw coming.

Never Spoken, Always Said [OS] He doesn’t say the words much but he shows her every day.

Taste [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) The reader is pregnant with Dean's baby. Spanning the first year or so, we join them as they discover new things about each other.

✦ @impala-dreamer

A Simple Kinda Man [OS] Dean’s a pretty simple man. He likes the things he likes and you can rarely get him to change his mind about it. 

Like Heaven [OS] (Dean x Curvy!Reader) Y/N’s request might throw him off for a second, but he’s never going to deny her, not when it feels so good in her arms…

Take a Break [OS] Laundry can be annoying and overwhelming, so it's important to take breaks now and then...

✦ @justagirlinafandomworld

Remind Me [OS] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) There was no escaping what happened to you. There wasn’t a magical number of days in which you would simply get over it either. It happened and you had to live with it. But your alpha would never leave you to work through it alone.

Delicate [OS] Dean made you feel things no one else ever had. But is it a good idea to see this through?

The Fallout (Alpha!Dean x Beta!Reader) [S] When Sam meets his true Omega, you fear your time with the Winchesters is fated to end. Before they can hurt you, you decide to distance yourself. But Dean isn’t willing to let you get away so easy.

✦ @spnbabe67

Girls, Girls, Girls [OS - Part of a Series] (Dean x OFC) While on a witch hunt Dean gets hit with a spell. Later at the hotel, Dean feels the effects of the spell and Tori has to help him through it.

✦ @chevroletdean

NSFT Alphabet [Dean Winchester] [HC]

Masturbation [Dean Winchester] [HC]

✦ @thatonewriter15

Unspoken [OS] How many reasons are there to love Dean Winchester...?

✦ @iprobablyshipit91

Twenty Minutes or Less [OS] Dean raises an eyebrow at you, cocky smile firmly in place. "I bet I could get you there in twenty minutes or less.”

Magical Blooms [OS] After all, there was a flurry of customers walk through the doors to Magical Blooms each and every day, and quite a number of these were regulars. Just because one of those regulars was an undeniably gorgeous man that flirted shamelessly...

✦ @jawritter

Feral (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) [S] True mates don't exist, at least that's what everyone tells you. It's nothing but a childish, fairytale notion to believe that such a person exists. Someone that is made just for you, your person. Who knew they were so wrong…

✦ @marvelfanfn2187a113

Here For You (Dean x Little Sister!Reader) [OS] You help Dean through a couple different kinds of pain.

✦ @deanwinchesterswitch

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas [S] Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.

✦ @spnexploration

Collared [S] Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

✦ @kaleldobrev

Old Man [OS - Part of a Series] Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way.

✦ @deanwritings

Friends with Benefits [S] After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

✦ @waywardxwords

Safe [OS] You had hoped to get in and out when you heard what town the next hunt was in. Unfortunately, you can’t outrun your past. You, also, can’t outrun those old feelings--panic, anxiety and fear. You had hoped you’d never have to share this part of your life with Dean, but things don’t always work out the way we had hoped.

Witches [OS] While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen. 

✦ @acreativelydifferentlove

Carry On [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) You’re an Omega in a small rural town. When your father’s gambling and drinking leaves him with a debt he can’t afford to pay, he offers you to a group of Alphas. Dean Winchester is an Alpha desperately trying to escape his past and pain. Can you save each other?

You're Home [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) After years away at college, you have finally returned to your home town. In order to settle back into the community, you have to seek permission from the Head Alpha. What happens when you see his son for the first time since presenting as an Omega?

✦ @deanwanddamons

Helping Hand [OS] Dean is tired after a hunt, so asks Sammy to drive Baby. You and Dean cuddle up in the back seat.

✦ @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Love Language [OS] You’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?

✦ @pink-sparkly-witch

The Widow [S] Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: “Family Don’t End with Blood,” takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her is what happens when she falls in love again.  

✦ shirleypositive72

While They Dance On A Pin (Jane Series 5) [OS - Part of a Series] (Dean x OFC) Sam, Dean, and Jane have been on the road almost constantly since Dean's return from Hell. They're finding Seals, finding danger, finding out each other's secrets. But it's what they find when they open the door to one more motel room that sends Dean back into his darkest moments. An OC's experience of episode 4x16, On the Head of a Pin.

✦ BeccabooO1O

She's My Cherry Pie [OS] Dean was drunk. So terribly drunk. And it was hilarious. Just some karaoke!Dean (aka the best Dean of them all).

✦ @pamwritessometimes

Roots in My Dreamland [OS] Dean encounters a mysterious forest spirit who’s an enigma.

✦ @supernotnatural2005

Sexual Encounters with Dean Winchester - Edging [OS] Exploring new kinks with Dean. How far can you push him before he breaks?

Happy Accidents [OS] (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) You haven't seen the Winchester's in over a year, but the case you're working has you scratching your head, and who better to call than some old friends. However, insecurities arise as well as the reprise of a long time crush. Little do you know, it's reciprocated.

Lebanon [OS] A wish gone wrong right brings back a familiar face. However, you all soon discover it's not as simple as it seems when what you’ve all accomplished, and your family, hangs in the balance.

Burning for You [OS] You're pregnant and it's awoken something feral, something instinctual in Dean.

✦ @ambiguous-avery

When He Slides In [OS] And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

✦ @bettystonewell

To You I Belong [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) Dean isn’t looking for a mate. Not only does he think he doesn’t deserve one, but the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain’t real. He still has free will, and saving you from monsters is just another part of the job.

Another Notch on His Belt [OS] Every little part of him is holding onto every little piece of her, and any other woman he’s been lucky enough to escape his life with. Even if it’s only for the night - or - Dean replaces intimacy with sex.

✦ @lamentationsofalonelypotato

It's Not a Big Deal [S] (Dean x Reader x Soldier Boy/Ben love triangle) Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

✦ @thoughtslikeaminefield

Deep [OS] Dean shows her more about pleasure than ‘deep’.

✦ @cheynovak

Four Men, One Birthday [OS] A birthday gift to me from lovely Cheyenne. 💜 Four birthday themed stories with Dean, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw.

Dean Winchester x Lisa Braeden:

✦ adventuresinposting

Damages [S] Ben is in a car accident causing a fractured skull. Consequentially he remembers Dean. Ben tries to find Dean, who is now a retired hunter after losing Sam in a final battle. This is the story of Dean finding something and someone to replace the hole in his life left by Sam.

✦ FaithDaria

One Step at a Time [OS] The Winchester way of life changes, and Dean adjusts accordingly.

✦ bloodmagik

A Dad By Any Other Name [OS] Ben is sick and Dean stays home with him while Lisa is at work. Lisa learns something about Dean's relationship with Ben.

Sam Winchester x Reader or OFC:

Stories are Sam x Reader unless noted OFC.

✦ Avrilando

While You Were Sleeping - [S] (Sam x OFC) A seriously injured unconscious man is in the hospital Rachel volunteers. With no idea who he is and if anyone is looking for him, Rachel decides to keep him company while he's sleeping. With The Eyes of a Loving Man [S] (Sequel to While You Were Sleeping) Continuing through Sam and Rachel's relationship with all the highs and lows of dating a hunter. Mostly a collection of oneshots and some connecting stories.

✦ Lindsey D. Perez

It's Your Birthday [OS] The Winchester's find out it's your birthday and insist on celebrating with lots of alcohol. Sam introduces you to body shots and things get heated. 

If You Give a Moose a Muffin [OS] ...he'll want kisses to go with it.

✦ ALoversDream

All of Me [OS] (Sam x Plus-Sized!Reader) Request where the reader (even thought she's usually pretty confident) is slightly insecure about her looks, and because she's plus-size. It ends in fluffy weight smut.

✦ BeccabooO1O

Could Have Told You That One, Winchester [OS] Imagine sitting one Sam's lap while you two are researching. She was reading one of the books about mythology for the Winchester's current case when she heard a frustrated groan from across the table. Sam Winchester had his laptop in front of him and various books of lore scattered around it.

✦ @princessmisery666

Samnesia [S] (Sam x OFC) Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam’s life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

✦ @ohsc

Delicate [OS] Sam being intimate with an inexperienced reader.

**I will keep adding to this list as I read and explore! Please reblog the fics you read and let these amazing authors know what you thought of their work. 💜

I have several more stories favorited on my FF.net account. (Beware if you try to read any of the stories I wrote there though. Some of those are old as hell and not to my current standard. 🤣)

Dean Winchester AU Fic Rec List

Original SPN Fic Rec List

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[whatifitis]

♡ this love - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Despite every losing battle, this love found it's way back to each other.

Author's Note: hey guys! this is the FINAL final part of this fic but can be read as a stand alone! i hope yall enjoy it <3 also this shit was not proofread and i think it could be a lot better but idk how to fix it 😭

WC: 2782

CW: fluff, tears, wedding shit, overuse of song lyrics, i think that's it

Maybe, when we’re ready, we’ll meet again.

That’s what you always told yourself. The sort of mantra you told yourself everyday since you had to say goodbye to the love of your life. Almost as if trying to convince yourself that you truly did the right thing in the end, letting him go. Letting go of the person who you’d loved and lost countless times, the person who you thought was your forever.

Were we a moment, or a lifetime?

Years of back and forth, always questioning every moment. Was it the right decision? Is it worth the time you’d already lost? Did it make sense? Was he the way to find your way home?

But now, everything makes sense. The answer has never been clearer, for this man loves you for who you are. You don’t fall through his hands like water. Instead, he holds you like the stars hold the moon. Safe and sound, bound in the warmth of him and everything he is.

And today is the day. Today, you get to marry the person who makes you feel whole. The person who has held you together and fixed what was once broken. All your bad decisions feel less terrible the second he listens. You truly never could have seen him coming.

Nerves rattle your body as you’re being pampered, getting your hair and makeup done for this big day. You had instated your best friend, Pietra, as your maid of honor and you’re honestly grateful that she accepted with no hesitation. She has been on top of every miniscule thing, making sure everything is perfect for today.

You were sat in the makeup chair when Pietra came up and gently held your hand in hers. With a gentle squeeze she asked, “How are you feeling?”

���I’m… excited.” you say sincerely, a soft smile gracing your face, “It’s been quite the journey. But I’m happy, genuinely. I’m excited to see where we go from here and for the first time in my life, I don’t have any doubts or regrets.”

“Good. You deserve this, darling. Honestly, all the shit you’ve gone through led to this moment. Everything made you the person you are today. And I think you’re pretty fucking amazing.” Pietra laughs and watches as you join her in doing so.

The two of you share a moment of quiet and calm, despite the chaos that surrounds the two of you. Bridesmaids are scrambling to put on their dress and do finishing touches, some wedding staff communicating to each other, making sure everything goes according to plan.

“I’m gonna need the bride, maid of honor and all the bridesmaids downstairs in about 30 minutes. So everyone please make sure you’ve got your dresses and shoes on, grab your bouquets and make your way down. Thank you.” someone shouts from the door before shutting it behind them.

Pietra looks at you with raised eyebrows as she lets out a deep breath, “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

-=+=-

Two wooden doors now stand before you, towering and all mighty. Intricate detailing along the panels now blockade you from your person.

It’s hard to believe that this is real. For so much of your life, it was a constant battle of fighting for love even when the other person didn’t deserve it. Time after time, you were left out in the cold, living off little light. Now, your heart is so full of this person that you can hardly call it your own anymore.

You stand and wait, feeling the palms of your hands grow sweaty from the nerves and elatedness you feel. As you take your final deep breaths before the doors open, you feel an arm intertwine with yours and you look up to see your father. He smiles at you and tries not to let any tears fall as it was your day.

You watch your fathers eyes and silently thank him for standing by you, giving his arm a little squeeze when the doors open and sounds of violins begin to drown out any whispers or creaks from wooden chairs. Everyone stands and watches as you begin to walk down the aisle, arm in arm with your father. Tears are shed and sniffles can already be heard. But none of that is heard by you as your wild boy comes into view.

Lando is standing at the altar, wearing a black suit, pink carnation pinned to the lapel. His hands are locked together in front of him as he tries not to fiddle too much. His heart is racing faster than the cars he drives. You can see him trying to take breaths, trying not to burst out crying yet but it’s no use. Some tears have already escaped his eyes as he’s filled with so much exhilaration.

You can’t help but let out a little laugh when you see the tears that have already fallen on both your faces, remembering the conversation you’d had the day before where you were so confident that neither of you were gonna cry. Safe to say you’re thankful no bets were placed for that.

Once you’d reached the stairs at the bottom of the altar, you turned to your father and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you and handing him your bouquet of flowers before you walked up the steps to meet your soon to be husband.

The violins died down and your officiant, Oscar Piastri, quietly cleared his throat before beginning. Lando was already reaching for your hands before Oscar could even get a word in, making a few members of the audience giggle from watching Lando’s eagerness.

As everyone quickly takes their seat, Lando leans into you and whispers “I won’t lie. I’m so anxious right now I feel like I might puke or shit or maybe both.” to which you let out a laugh.

“Same.” was all you could get it between laughs.

Once everyone has taken their seat, Oscar begins “Good afternoon, family, friends, and loved ones. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Y/N and Lando in marriage. Love is a journey, and today marks the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. When Lando had first met Y/N, you could just see it in his eyes, that she was the one. He loved talking about her and talking to her. The amount of times I would have to bring him back to earth during shoots was insane. He truly loves her and he does everything to show her and everyone that she’s his person. Though the two have had their ups and downs, they still held strong and came back better than before. Marriage is a bond built on love, trust, and commitment. Y/N and Lando, do you come here freely and with full hearts to join in marriage?”

With a soft squeeze on your hand, Lando says “I do.” smiling with his eyes wrinkling in the corners.

“I do” you reply softly, already feeling your throat attempt to betray you and make you cry tears of joy.

“I was told that the bride and groom would like to share a few vows so we’ll go ahead and begin those.”

Oscar takes a step back as Lando lets go of your hands for a moment, reaching for the inside pocket of his suit and pulling out a small journal. Once he’s opened it up, Lando grabs one of your hands in his again and begins to read “Y/N, I don’t even know where to begin. I guess, firstly, I wanna say thank you. Thank you for so many things. Thank you for loving me, for staying by me, for forgiving me for all the stupid shit I’ve done. Ehm, all those years ago I said some stupid things instead of ‘I love you’ . And I guess that was cause I was scared of what I was falling into but… now, being with you and talking to you and stuff, it makes it all seem so much easier than what I imagined it to be. Like, no matter what happens, I know that being able to be by your side will make it so much easier. When we met, I knew that you held so much in yourself. Like, I knew from one moment with you, that you loved with your whole self, you worked hard for anything you wanted, and you did anything for others. You’re the sort of person who puts others before yourself and I find that admirable. And I know that after everything, you still often have fears so I just wanted to remind you that no matter what, I still love you most. We argue, I still love you most. You are mad, I still love you most. You are upset with me, I still love you most. I’m mad, I still love you most. You are having a hard time, I still love you most. You are overwhelmed, I still love you most. You are feeling empty, I still love you most. I still love you most, for my love for you is unconditional… like the Katy Perry song. I wouldn’t trade my love for you for anything in the world, not even a WDC. And lastly, no matter how much I say I love you, I always love you more than that.”

Both you and Lando have tears spilling down your faces now. He tucks his journal back into his pocket as you gently wipe away a few tears from his face. The warmth and comfort of your hand makes Lando lean into them slightly before you have to pull back and read your vows from your own little journal. You shake one of your hands to try and dry away the clamminess of them. You reach for one of Lando’s hands again and speak, “Lando, fuck. Where do I even start? When we first met, I wasn’t looking for anything. We had just found each other and after some time, I fell in love with you. It was like you just came out of the blue. Since that day, I’ve thanked the universe everyday for pushing us into each other's way. We got lost a few times along the way but we always found eachother again. A lot of people may call it fate but I think you just masterminded me. Either way, I’m happy this love came back to me. And you always gave me a choice. You always made sure to remind me that it was okay if I didn’t choose us. You understood why I wouldn’t choose you and you knew you would have to be okay with that and that you would have to let me go. Today, as I stand here before you and the people who love and care for us, I can say that I don’t know much about certainty, but what I do know is that I choose you. And I’ll choose you over and over. Without a pause, without a doubt, in a heartbeat. I’ll keep choosing you.” you finish.

Throughout your vows, it was difficult for you to continue. Tears were constantly flowing and the lump in your throat made it hard not to break every few words. Lando was profusely wiping tears off his face but at some point, he realized there was no use so he just let them stay.

Oscar steps forward again with a red nose and somewhat puffy eyes from crying, “May we get the rings please.”

Once both you and Lando are holding each other's rings, Oscar continues officiating, “These rings are a symbol of love and promises you share. As you place them on each other’s hands, let them remind you of your vows and the unbreakable bond you share now. Please place the ring on the other finger and repeat after me ‘With this ring, I thee wed.”

Lando, almost dropping the ring due to his hands being sweaty and shaky, placed the ring on your finger and stated “With this ring, I thee wed.”

You follow after him, placing the ring on his finger and stating “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“By the power vested in me by a sketchy website on the internet that Lando sent me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss!”

Before the crowd could even erupt with cheers and applause, you were in Lando’s arms with his lips attaching to yours. You grabbed the side of his face with a hand while the other wrapped around his shoulders and you held on tightly, not wanting to let go for even a second. All that pain and heartbreak has led to this moment, and it was all worth it. It wasn’t easy but the two of you managed to make a not so great thing into something so beautiful, no one could believe it.

-=+=-

The reception was filled with laughs, tears of happiness, and so much love. It was now time for some speeches and your dad was first up. You took a sip of your drink and felt Landos hand reach for yours and rest on your lap. You put your drink down and held his hand between yours as you watched your dad stand and speak into the microphone, “Hello, everyone. To those who don’t know me, I am Y/N’s father. I wanna start off by congratulating the happy couple. I hope the two of you really take in and appreciate this next part of your love. It’s a really beautiful thing to share with the person you love the most. Lando, I won’t lie, I wasn’t always your biggest fan. But then again, it’s hard to impress this old guy. You went ahead and did the impossible, however. You made my little girl happy. You made her feel safe enough to wanna get married. For the longest time, she always said she’d never want to get married. Said it was a waste of time and money for it only to end in divorce. To give her credit, she made a presentation about it and added statistics so I can see why she thought that way. Anyways, when you asked me for her hand in marriage, I remember saying that I was just so pleased. I was so pleased that you had found each other because you just got each other. You really do. And I see you in those quiet moments when the two of you are around and you’re just cuddled up on the sofa. The two of you just laughing and talking and the way Lando looks at Y/N and I just look at you and know that you two are just so in love. I know that through everything that’s happened, neither of you stopped loving each other. As a final thought, I would like to thank you, Lando. Thank you for loving her as much as I do and thank you for always looking after her. Sweetheart, if he ever pushes your buttons, I’ll gladly make him clean all the stables at the farm.”

Through tears and blurry vision, you laugh at the ending of your father’s speech. As he walks towards you, you stand to give him a hug and let him know how grateful you are for him and to let him know how much you love him. After a moment, the rest of the speeches began. More tears were shed and laughs were shared.

As the final speech was wrapping up, you turned to your side and looked at him. The person you were gonna spend the rest of forever with. Lando feels you staring and turns to you, “You’re staring.” he jokes.

“Yeah. Staring at my beautiful husband. Thank you for loving me.” you softly say.

“Nah. I should be the one thanking you. You’re the one who is letting me love you. And now I get to flex my hot and beautiful wife everywhere I go.” he says while wiggling his ring finger that is now happily bound by a simple gold band.

This is it. The start of forever. Now that you really have him, you never wanna know what life is like without him. You spent too much time apart and second guessing yourselves. It’s time to just let go of whatever may have happened when you were kids and just fall in love with life together. This love that was fated or willed will continue to grow and prosper as time goes by. You will love each other intentionally and love with every bit of conscience you were born with.

[stevieschrodinger]

Link to Part Two

Part One

Eddie stares down at the plastic doodad. It proudly declares the word ‘pregnant’ on the little screen, cheerily oblivious to the fact that it's just ruined Eddie’s whole fucking life. It’s a word as well, the actual fucking word, ‘pregnant’ shown oh so confidently on the little screen. Eddie’s done a test before, one time when he had a scare as a teenager, that had been the sort that showed one line or two.

One lines for not, two for...are. Two would have looked like prison bars, which would have been ironic given being saddled with a pup is probably pretty equivalent to 25 to life.

Anyway. Eddie shakes it. Looks again. Throws the fucking thing in the bin.

Well fuck.

Eddie contemplates, very very briefly, getting rid of it. His mind and body recoil from that thought the same way it would from, like, rotted tuna. Or someone else's puke. Or like...salad.

Eddie’s Omega’s got a lot of needs and no Alpha willing to fill them. Eddie gets by, fobbing his Omega off with with a couple of short term friends with benefits arrangements and the odd one night stand. Mostly his Omega can’t tell the difference between having an Alpha and having any Alpha, so he makes do. It scratches the itch.

Unfortunately, that means this pup could have been fathered by any one of three dudes, and Eddie doesn’t have a fucking clue which of them it would be. Eddie would really rather not it be Alpha A, Alpha B is a piece of work with a big dick, and what's behind door number three would be potentially catastrophic.

Anyway. Eddie makes a decision at two am in his apartment bathroom, and it starts with two text messages, an email, and a phone call.

“Thanks for doing this so on the spur man,” Eddie tells his landlord as he hands over the keys. Ex landlord. It was only a room in a shared place. Had to share the bathroom on this floor with two other dudes, but, meh. It had been perfect for what Eddie needed, and more importantly, within Eddie’s budget.

His whole life is sitting in the back of his van, barely filling a third of the back. Which is ideal really, made clearing out quick and easy and Eddie’s uncertain about weather or not he should be doing any heavy lifting right now.

He makes three stop offs before he leaves for good, shifting the very last of his product at discount prices. He mournfully throws in his last two boxes of cigs with the last deal; going cold turkey is going to be the opposite of fun, but Eddie’s in it to win it, and he’s going to try his best as of right now.

Wayne already has the door open when Eddie hops out of his van, beer in hand, eyebrow raised, “heya old man.”

When Wayne sees Eddie dragging bags out, he lifts the brim of his cap, puts it back again, and heads inside. Eddie sees him move a couple of things out of Eddie’s old room, and although it’s empty and the bed is stripped to nothing, it’s untouched, “how long you back for?” Wayne asks him, offering a beer.

Eddie looks at the offered bottle, dripping condensation, and very pointedly doesn’t take it “so, about that.”

There’s a long drawn out moment, and Eddie’s sees the realization dawn, “oh Ed.”

“You like kids!”

Wayne sighs, pulls Eddie into a hug, “I just hope they sleep better’n you did. Don’t think I can go through that again.”

Eddie snorts a laugh into Wayne’s shoulder, all relieved. He hadn't doubted for a second that Wayne would back his play, Wayne's always been unshakably team Eddie, but to hear it said in no uncertain terms is still a huge weight lifted.

Eddie’s got a slightest curve of a bump, small enough that it’s not nearly noticeable yet, especially with Eddie’s usual wardrobe. To go along with his bump, he’s got a scan booked at the Omega Health place, an insatiable craving for garlic mushrooms, and a job.

An actual honest job. Alright, a temp job, because he’s pregnant and no one in their right mind is going to hire a pregnant Omega for a full time permanent gig. So he is, conveniently enough, covering maternity leave for a beta girl at the record store. But that doesn’t matter right now, the moons aligned, and Eddie jumped at the opportunity. He’s going to have a secure pay check for the next seven or so months, and right this second, that’s what counts.

He can’t drink. He can’t smoke. He can’t do drugs and he’s most certainly not going to party. Eddie does the next best thing he can think of; he goes to the library. This is his reward now, his fun, his safe space; he’s going to reward himself with a good book. A good free book.

Turns out registering himself for a library card is a ten minute thing, and then he’s done, bit of plastic in hand, he wonders the shelves looking for the fantasy section. He rounds the corner into the main room only to find a dude reading and signing along to a bunch of little kids. He has the book propped up on a thing to keep his hands free and the pages open so the kids can see.

He’s encouraging them to sign along with a bunch of the words.

He has good hair...like, really good hair. There’s something familiar about the guy that Eddie can't place...until he does.

Holy fucking shit. That’s King Steve.

And he’s in a library...wearing fucking gold rimmed spectacles and a sweater vest.

And he’s hot. He’s still hot. He laughs at something and leans forward to help a toddler with the placement of her chubby little fingers and Eddie’s ovaries fucking explode.

He walks away. For self preservation he walks away. He forgets what he just saw because there was no way it was real. He’s been going through a dry spell, hasn’t got laid since he moved back to Hawkins and now he’s seeing mirages of his high school crush, that’s all.

That’s all it can be.

Until Eddie goes to the fancy scanner machine to check out his little pile of four paperback fantasy books and a deep Alpha voice is asking if he needs anything and he’s, like, right there. And he smells of library and Alpha and whatever nice thing he washes his fucking sweater vests in.

Jesus.

“No,” Eddie squeaks, “I’m okay.”

“Eddie?” Steve frowns at him, tilting his read and looking over the top of his glasses in a way that should be fucking criminal, “Eddie Munson right? I thought you moved away?”

“I have. Did. I mean, I did do that. Previously. Back now. Clearly.” Shut up shut up shut up and Steve can probably smell his embarrassment because he’s standing closely enough to clearly scent Eddie and Steve’s senses must be absolutely pinpoint because his eyes drop to Eddie’s stomach, then spring up to his neck. He frowns, like, the tiniest bit.

Eddie’s pregnant, and unmated, and Steve’s clocked that in about four seconds flat which, great. Humiliation complete.

But Steve’s face clears as quick as it had clouded, the whole thing passing so fast Eddie’s now not even sure he saw it, “so it’d been cool to catch up, you wanna wait a minute, I’m just about to have lunch?”

“Errr…I mean. I wouldn't want to impose or anything-”

“Steve!” And holy shit, if Steve is the ghost of Christmas past or some shit, the second ghost just rocked up in the form of Robin fucking Buckley of all people. Eddie doesn't even understand why they’re even friends, Steve was a topnotch jock and a total fucking dickwad, and Buckley was a band nerd.

This makes less sense than Steve’s sweater vest.

“Yeah, come on Eddie, lets go sit outside,” Eddie gets tugged along in their wake, somehow, and ends up sitting on a bench outside in the sun.

Robin had a bag of take out in her hand which she gives to Steve, and he takes out a carton of something that instantly makes Eddie’s mouth water, Eddie looks back up in time to catch Steve widening his eyes at Robin, tilting his head off to the side sharply in silent gesture for her to fuck off over there. She signs something, real quick. Steve nods.

Eddie doesn’t know a single lick of sign language, but he's pretty sure that even if he did, what happened was so fast he would have missed it anyway, “so, Eddie, great to see you, but I, shit, pretty sure I’ve left the...stove on.”

Eddie frowns at the take out and back to Robin but before he can point out what a steaming pile of bullshit that is, she’s already power walking off and shouting, “byyyyeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

“I, ah, got garlic mushrooms and broccoli and some stirfry-”

It’s too late for Eddie. He’s done. Stick a fork in him. He has no idea what’s happening here but he zones in on the garlic mushroom part of that like a heat seeking missile. A secondary part of his brain is screaming loudly that the Alpha has provided, the Alpha wants to share his food with Eddie. Alpha Alpha Alpha.

Eddie takes the container and the bamboo spork thing Steve hands him, “sorry, I never get chopsticks, no fucking clue how to use them.”

“I can show you,” Eddie says, without thinking it through or registering the implication or stopping to swallow, which means he just spoke with his mouth full of food.

“I’d like that,” Steve tells him, “when can I take you out for dinner?”

Which, Eddie’s brain does stall out there. Because. Well. Lots of things. But he was pretty certain Steve had clocked his specific circumstances earlier, but now he’s not so sure, “I’m pupped,” his mouth supplies without his permission, so he shoves a whole thing of broccoli in there to try and stop it happening again.

Steve hums, eating his beef thing very neatly, “no bite though,” he points out, and Eddie makes an agreeable noise, “maybe we can fix that,” Eddie nearly chokes.

[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Tug-of-War

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader Word Count: 7346 Summary: As tensions with a rival MC escalate, old feelings relent, complicating your fight to maintain professional boundaries. Torn between duty and desire, a dangerous conspiracy is uncovered, all while navigating the risks of your rekindled connection to Jax. Warnings: 18+ only please! (eventual smut) lots of innuendo, cursing, brief mentions of implied violence, angst, and feels. A/N: FINALLY! Part 4 is here. This took me waaaaay longer to finish than I ever anticipated, so a HUGE thank you to everyone still invested in Jax and Pepper's story. As always, feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated - likes, comments, and reblogs fuel me. Beta'd by myself, all mistakes are my own. Without further ado...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Days had passed since your ride with Jax and the almost-kiss—the memory replayed endlessly, torturous and consuming every crevice of your mind. The roughness of his fingers grazing your cheek, the piercing intensity of his eyes that seemed to strip away every barrier you had, and the warmth of his breath—teasing and familiar, carrying a blend of nicotine and mint that was undeniably him. He leaned in so close that the logical part of your brain seemed to disappear. You’d almost let it happen, almost let him claim the space between you. And the truth? You wanted to. 

So bad. 

It was the way he drew you in, no matter how hard you tried to resist, because Jax had always been like that—dangerously magnetic, a force you could never escape. You knew, without a single doubt, that once you crossed that line, there’d be no going back to the safe distance you’d convinced yourself you could maintain.

Since you came back to Charming, Jax had been careful, almost restrained—testing your boundaries. But now, there was no mistaking his intent. His touches lingered, his words carried too much weight, and his eyes promised everything you’d ever wanted together. 

He wasn’t holding back anymore and the feelings he stirred were overwhelming—a mix of longing, frustration and, yet, something dangerous and powerful. It was never just physical with Jax, he had a way of getting under your skin, making you feel seen in a way that was as thrilling as it was unsettling. Your pulse quickened, thoughts tumbling over one another, all drowned out by the agonizing truth: being close to him felt effortless, like slipping into a perfectly worn, familiar T-shirt that fit just right.

You told yourself you needed space, that putting distance between you two was the only way to clear your head. After hashing out strategies with Liz over the new evidence—you decided heading back to your office and home felt like the best option. 

You had an early motion hearing Thursday, and after that, you’d head out, giving yourself a long weekend to regroup with your team. A few consecutive days away from Charming would help you regain perspective, give you the distance you needed to pull your thoughts from the relentless tug of him. 

It made sense. 

But even as you planned your escape, the decision felt heavier than it should have, like you were leaving behind way more than just a case.

You sighed deeply as you parked in the TM lot, the neatly lined bikes confirming everyone was already inside. Jax’s earlier text had been brief—Juice had uncovered something about the rival MC, and whatever it was, felt big. 

Bracing yourself, you stepped inside the clubhouse, the all too familiar mix of cigarettes and stale beer, greeting you like an old habit you couldn’t break. Tension simmered as you walked in, the low hum of conversation buzzed from the Chapel, where the brothers were scattered, their faces grim and tight with unspoken worry.

Jax stood at the head of the table as he surveyed the room with the same intensity as always. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the fresh cut slicing through his brow, the faint shadow of a bruise spreading around his eye. Concern flashed across your face before you could stop it, but when your eyes met, he gave you a slight nod. His expression stayed hard, and the moment passed with nothing more than a look exchanged between you.

Still, you didn’t miss the subtle shift in his stance as you walked in, the way his shoulders straightened just enough to betray his awareness of you. It wasn’t intentional, but it was undeniable—a quiet reaction only you seemed to notice. 

Jax was never unaware of you.

"Alright," he spoke, his voice cutting through the room and drawing everyone’s attention as the men settled into their respective seats, while you stood to the side, your eyes never leaving Jax. "We’ve been digging into the Warlords, and they’re in this deeper than we thought." His gaze flicked toward you briefly before continuing. "Had a close call with their guys on the highway last night. Almost turned into a showdown, but we pulled back."

The Warlords had once been allies of the Sons, but everything changed the day Clay killed their president during a botched gun deal and then covered it up. Damon Reyes had taken over, severing ties with SAMCRO and escalating the tension into years of animosity.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the cut again, a dozen questions swirling in your mind already. You crossed your arms, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“We think they’re the ones framing me for murder,” Jax declared, his jaw clenched, eyes locked on yours.

Your mind spun, connecting the dots from everything you and your defense team had uncovered. The anonymous payments, the conveniently surfaced witness, the doctored phone records—it all pointed back to the Warlords. They were manipulating evidence from afar, keeping their hands clean while setting Jax up. 

“This might be the link we’ve been missing,” you realized, a mix of anger and relief washing over you.

“If I go down for this, Reyes thinks it’ll cripple the club. He’s been plotting ever since Clay killed Mendoza.” Jax affirmed, his tone sharp.

His words lingered in the air, Reyes’ long-standing vendetta casting a shadow over the room. The Sons had been fighting to stay one step ahead for years, but now the stakes had never been higher.

The room buzzed with unease; the brothers’ faces reflected the seriousness of the situation. Chibs piped in. “Aye, and it’s not just Reyes, Jacky Boy. That bastard’s got cops in his back pocket too.”

Your stomach knotted, and your brow furrowed slightly as you turned to Chibs. “Anything solid tying Reyes to any specific cops?” Your mind remembering Connelly. 

Chibs shook his head. “Nothin’ yet, lass. We’ve got whispers and cash movin’ around, but not the kind of evidence that’ll hold up in court.”

Your thoughts reeled as the gravity of the situation sunk in. “If we can make that connection, we could file a motion to dismiss,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Taking a steadying breath, you stepped forward, your tone growing stronger as you addressed the club. “We have to be smarter than him. Reyes isn’t just after you, Jax—he’s coming for everything.”

The room grew silent, tension settling over everyone as the full weight of the threat sank in. This wasn’t just about clearing Jax’s name; it was about survival. The Sons were in deeper than ever, fighting to keep the club from being torn apart by the Warlords. 

As you stood there, you began to grasp the true depth of your loyalty. This wasn’t just a connection to your father’s club; it ran through your veins, binding you to a legacy you never wanted, but couldn’t deny. 

And your feelings for Jax—still growing, still impossible to suppress—made the idea of walking away unthinkable. No matter how tangled and complicated everything had become, the thought of leaving him—or the club—was something you couldn’t do now.

The meeting wrapped up soon after, and you barely had a second before you were on the phone with your office, more determined than ever. “—yeah, let’s have the investigator follow up on those two key pieces ASAP,” you instructed, glancing up as Jax approached. “And have them on my desk for Thursday. I should be back in town in the afternoon. Thanks Liz.” 

Jax’s face tightened as he caught that last part. His brows drew together, eyes narrowing with a flash of suspicion as he tilted his head. Before you could react, he reached out, his grip on your arm firm and lingering. “Come with me for a minute,” he urged, his voice insistent. 

Your heart pounded in your ears as he guided you down the long hallway, knowing exactly where he was leading you—the same place you’d avoided since being back, because the last time you’d been there, everything imploded.

He opened the door, stepping inside first, and you lingered at the threshold, uncertainty prickling at your skin. The room looked just as it always had—dimly lit, the smell of dust mingling with faint traces of his cologne. Your eyes landed on the bed, and a familiar ache surfaced, as if no time had passed. The pain, the shock, it all swept over you again. 

But with it, the good memories came too—the nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, laughter spilling into the darkness, and the quiet moments dreaming of a future that never came to be. 

“I didn’t think you’d ever step foot in here again.” Jax’s voice cut through the silence, rough and low. His words drawing your attention to him. 

You swallowed, folding your arms across your chest as if that could shield you from the past. “Neither did I.”

A flicker of regret shifted in his eyes before his jaw set hard. “So… you’re leaving, huh?”

You didn’t answer, letting the silence stretch as you took a step into the room. He was reading you, you could feel it, but you didn’t owe him an explanation. 

He took a step closer, his gaze hardening. “If it’s because of the other night—I’m not going to apologize.”

Frustration flared within you, a sharp scoff escaping your lips before you could stop it. Typical Jax—always so sure of himself, so unwilling to back down. His confidence grated on you, but it also pulled at a part of you that didn’t want him to apologize, even though he should. As his words echoed in the room, your mind betrayed you, drifting back to that moment.

How alive you’d felt during the ride, how safe yet electrified you were by his presence. It left you raw, exposed, teetering on the edge of something you weren’t sure you could control. You felt your resolve waver, torn between his stubborn cockiness and the dizzying effect he still had on you. His words, his stance, everything about him challenged you. 

And yet, here you were, standing your ground, even as every part of you wanted him.

“Jax,” you started, your voice tight, trying to rein in the whirlwind inside you. His name hung in the air, because you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Confront him? Brush it off? All you knew was that his refusal to apologize only fanned the flames of everything you’d been trying to put out of your mind since the almost-kiss.

He stepped closer, the heat between you intensifying. “I’m not sorry for what happened… or almost happened,” he added, his eyes never leaving yours. “You felt it, same as I did.”

He had you mesmerized, not even noticing when he closed the gap between you. His warmth surrounded you, the passion in his eyes undeniable as his hand cupped your cheek. You leaned into his palm without thinking, the briefest moment of surrender, eyes locked, both of you searching for something in the other.

Your heart raced as his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, his lips—full and slightly weathered, hovering just a breath away. The curve of his mouth was captivating, a subtle contrast to the roughness of his jawline. Everything about him pulled you in, every part of you screaming to let go. Without thinking, your hand moved, gently brushing over the cut above his eyebrow. His eyes briefly closing and his body nearly relaxing at your touch.

“Does it hurt?” you asked softly.

“Not as much as this,” he rasped, his voice thick with vulnerability. His grip on your cheek tightened slightly, his eyes focusing on you again. “Why do you keep pulling away?”

His question lingered, cutting through your haze. The connection, so vivid moments ago, now felt fragile and uncertain. You pulled back, your heart aching as you did. “Jax, I can’t,” you protested. “Not now. Not like this.”

Frustration flashed across his face, his jaw tightening as he fought against his emotions. “Why not?” he wondered, his tone rough but quiet. “We keep ending up here.” He let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair, pushing the loose strands back. “We’ve been dancing around this for a while now, Pep. Every damn time I think we’re getting somewhere; you push me away.”

His gaze was unnerving, searching for answers you weren’t ready to give. You swallowed hard. “I’m trying to keep my head straight. You’re my client, first and foremost. And there’s too much at stake right now.” A plea edging into your words. “After everything we just went over out there, everything I’m up against now!” your voice rising slightly, “I need to focus.”

He clenched his fists, tension clear in the lines of his face. He knew you were right, but Jax Teller wasn’t someone who let things go easily, especially when it came to you. Pulling away from him bruised his pride, and you could see the fight in him, the struggle between understanding your words and his own wants and desires.

“I get it,” he muttered darkly, bitterness threading through his voice. He glanced away for a moment, his expression hardening before locking back onto you. “You need space from me.”

Here we go, you thought, biting back the urge to roll your eyes as you took a step back, letting out an exasperated sigh. You remembered this side of him all too well—the simmering agitation when he didn’t get exactly what he wanted. 

“You know what, Jax? Yeah, some of it is about needing space from you,” you snapped, your eyes locking onto his, unflinching. “From Charming. From all the ghosts that won’t let me breathe here.” The words came out sharp and cutting—words you’d swallowed for too long.

You watched his jaw flex, his face hardening even more, but his eyes—they were burning now, fierce and determined. For every step you took back, he took a step closer, the intensity in his gaze cutting through the distance you tried to put between you.

“I’m not a ghost,” he growled, his voice barely controlled. “I’m right here, Pep. You can run, put up all the walls you want, but don’t act like you don’t feel it too. Don’t act like I don’t know you, like I don’t see every part of you.”

His words were a challenge, a confession, and a promise all at once. Your heart hammered, the weight of them settling heavy and inescapable.

“You’re asking me to back off,” he muttered. “But you really think that’s gonna change how we feel? You put ten goddamn years of space between us, and the second we were back in the same room, it was still there!”

Another step closer, and he was right in front of you again, staring you down, eyes pleading with frustration and vulnerability. “You can keep pushing me away, but you know it as well as I do—there’s no escaping this. No amount of space is ever gonna bury what’s between us. And you know damn well that no one’s ever gonna know you like I do. Make you feel the way I do.”

His hands framed your face again, the heat of his touch sparking through you. “So tell me,” he whispered, his tone low and rough, leaning in just close enough for his breath to ghost across your skin. “Is running really what you want, or are you just scared of what happens if you stay?”

Your stomach did somersaults as you felt yourself drawn in, torn between the instinct to keep running and the undeniable truth of what he was saying. The weight of his conviction, the way he saw you so completely, sent a thrill through you. As much as it unnerved you, it tempted you, making it even harder to hold your ground.

You drew in a shaky breath, desperate to steady yourself, desperate for a break from all the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I’m not running,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, tinged with a rawness you couldn’t hide. “And I know a few days away probably won’t change anything. But I need it.”

You hesitated, the helplessness in your chest rising to the surface as you forced yourself to keep going. “This isn’t just about us. It’s everything—the past, the club, this trial…” Your voice wavered, a thread of desperation lacing your tone as your eyes met his with unflinching intensity. You needed him to let you breathe. “Just, please, Jax. Can you give me that?” 

His eyes met your intensity, a storm of emotions churning behind the blue depths. Love, history, and defiance all wrestled for control, torn between the pull that kept drawing you back together and the distance you were now pleading for. The battle was written all over his face.

But for once, he didn’t fight.

Instead, he stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. His jaw tense as if the distance itself physically pained him. It wasn’t surrender—it never would be with Jax. But this time, he gave you what you asked for, even though every part of him fought against it.

“Fine,” he uttered quietly, voice strained, the weight of his disappointment evident. It radiated off him in waves, lingering like an open wound.

You only nodded in response, grateful for the reprieve, but painfully aware of the strain it left behind. The silence that followed was suffocating, louder than any argument, filled with all the words you weren’t able to say. 

Because the real battle wasn’t about the trial, or the club, or even Jax himself. It was about fighting the part of you that longed to fall into him completely, no matter the cost. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The week had dragged on, each day a slow reminder of the unease put between you and Jax for your unwillingness to admit your feelings. By the time the final hearing of the week wrapped up, you had a small victory—a win for the defense and a step closer to untangling this mess of a case. You needed the win, but more than that, you needed to get out of Charming.

As you stepped out of the courthouse, the adrenaline from the morning’s success still buzzing in your veins, you practically skipped toward your car, eager to escape. But then you saw him—Jax, parked beside you, arms crossed and waiting. A sigh slipped from your lips. So much for an easy exit.

You could feel his sunglass-covered eyes tracking your approach. There was a weight in his stance, a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. You tightened your grip on your keys, twisting them in your hand as you drew closer. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” you quipped, your tone laced with subtle sarcasm.

Jax’s lips tugged into a smirk, your sharp wit cutting through the tension like it always did. A flicker of amusement flashed in his expression. “Figured you’d try to sneak off without saying goodbye,” he replied, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them onto his collar. 

You mustered a lighthearted tone, forcing a smile despite the knot forming in your chest. “It’s only a few days, Jax. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

A shadow crossed his face, his jaw ticking slightly. “Don’t count on it,” he muttered. Then he took a breath, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Listen… about the other day. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, trying to get you to say things you didn’t want to.” 

Before you could respond, his hand reached out, his fingers brushing against yours—a light touch that sent a jolt through you, his way of bridging the distance. 

He glanced away, swallowing hard before adding. “I was an asshole.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Your words, not mine,” you muttered, not quite hiding the surprise his apology caught you by.

Still, the unexpected admission eased some of the strain between you. You gave a small nod, your voice softening. “I just… need to focus on what matters right now, which is winning this case and keeping you out of prison. Otherwise…” You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. “All the things I do want to say, won’t matter.”

His hand shifted, thumb grazing over your knuckles in a slow caress, his touch radiating more emotion than any words could. His gaze dipped downward, softening, and for the first time in days, a faint spark of hope replaced the tension that had lingered there.

He lifted his other hand, his fingertips ghosting over your cheek, the contact achingly tender. His lips parted as if to speak, but he hesitated, letting the moment speak for itself. That flicker of hope, however faint, was enough to steady him. A small, almost bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as if your raw honesty struck a chord that both stung and soothed him.

“Alright,” he acknowledged after a long pause, his eyes still fixed on yours. “I can live with that—for now.” He added his signature Jax Teller wink, a touch of levity that was so uniquely him.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him, settling for a playful glare instead. Even so, a small smile tugged at your lips. It wasn’t the resolution either of you had wanted, but it felt like something close to peace—a fragile, unspoken truce. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your drive home felt long, sunlight streaming through the tinted windows as your thoughts swirled. Exhaustion weighed on you, but adrenaline kept you on edge. Leaving Charming hadn’t delivered the escape you’d hoped for; despite the promises you’d made to yourself, the truth hit you with unsettling clarity—you’d fallen for him all over again. 

The more painful realization, though, was that you’d never really stopped loving him. No matter the years or the distance, he’d always been there, some part of you that refused to let go.

 Things were definitely more complicated now—so much heavier. You’d spent your whole life trying to separate yourself from the MC world. Growing up as the daughter of a former member had left its mark, a constant reminder of the risks, the violence, and the sacrifices tied to that life. And then, despite your best efforts, you’d fallen for Jax Teller. 

Twice. 

You groaned at the thought. Being back in his life now had forced you to confront a truth you’d spent years avoiding: no matter how far you ran, this was your legacy—your life—and it had taken root.

As soon as you entered the office, the haze in your mind cleared, and the emotions you’d been wrestling with were buried. Compartmentalizing had always been a strength, and now it allowed you to focus entirely on the task at hand. Liz and the defense team were already gathered, ready to dive into the next phase of the case.

The shadow of the Warlords’ involvement loomed over every detail, fueling the urgency that drove you forward. You slipped into your role effortlessly, issuing directives and delegating tasks with the precision of someone who thrived under pressure.

Time blurred as the day unfolded in a stream of legal strategy. The conference room thrummed with quiet intensity, the sound of rustling papers and focused voices filling the air. You and your team pored over documents, dissected evidence, and mapped out timelines. 

Every small breakthrough ignited a spark of hope, a flicker of progress in the uphill battle to shield Jax. It wasn’t just about the case anymore; it was about ensuring the survival of everything he fought to protect. The weight of responsibility settled on your shoulders and you felt more determined than ever. 

You were doing this for the club, for the family that had claimed you, and for the man who had a way of carving out space in your mind, leaving an ache that seemed to reach straight into your soul.

Finally, as the clock pushed past evening into the depths of the night, you packed up your notes and left the office, exhaustion seeping into your bones. When you finally stepped into the quiet of your house, the familiar stillness comforted you. You set your bag down, along with your favorite pizza and the six-pack you’d picked up on the drive home. Kicking off your shoes, you leaned against the counter and cracked open a beer. The restlessness inside you refused to quiet, buzzing under your skin, even in the calm of your home.

Without thinking, your hand reached for your phone, fingers grazing the screen. The urge to hear his voice, to make sure he was okay, tugged at you. But reason quickly cut through, reminding you of the promises you’d made to yourself. You set the phone back down with a sigh, taking another long swig of beer, hoping it would dull the ache.

What were you doing? You’d sworn you wouldn’t let your heart get tangled up in him, not when so much was at risk. Losing wasn’t an option—not when failure would mean more than just a professional defeat. Jax facing life in prison, being torn from his life and the future you now found yourself hoping for. The thought of losing him, of having to walk away again while everything was torn apart, was unbearable. You couldn’t let that happen.

Your mind wandered to your gradual reconnection with Jax, a slow pull back toward the man who once held your heart. He could still make you laugh, the kind of deep, unguarded laugh that felt like home. His rare, fleeting smiles—the ones he reserved for moments when his guard slipped—still struck you the same way they had back then.

There was a quieter strength in him now, one that made you feel both safe and exposed all at once. That fierce protectiveness you’d always admired was still there, but now it carried a heavier weight—shadows of stories he’d probably never tell.

The feelings he brought back to life within you were real and vibrant, not just echoes of young love—Jax had always known just how to unravel you, and somehow, he was doing it all over again.

Shaking off the weight of your thoughts, you gathered your things—the remaining beer, pizza box, and of course, the stack of work that never seemed to diminish—and headed to your bedroom. Routine steadied you as you washed your face and changed into your pajamas. 

Once ready, you spread your work across the bed, the soft glow of your bedside lamp spilling over the neatly organized files. You sank onto the mattress, the hum of determination replacing the restless buzz of your emotions. 

Among the documents, you spotted the original case files from years ago—Clay's murder of the Warlords president. You’d requested them for context, hoping they’d provide insight into how this mess had snowballed into Jax’s current predicament. As you scanned the pages, a name began to surface over and over: Reed Daniels.

First as a lead investigator. Then in a follow-up report. And then again in a list of interviews and testimonies from that case, your pulse quickening with each mention. Daniels hadn’t just been involved; he’d been deeply embedded.

“This doesn’t feel right…” you murmured, flipping through more documents. You grabbed a notepad, jotting down dates and cross-referencing them with the current case. Your suspicions mounted when you spotted Daniels’ signature on a report from a Warlords botched weapons bust—the same one you’d uncovered during prep.

The same missing evidence, the same key players, and now, the same investigator.

It was nearing midnight when your phone lit up, vibrating on the nightstand. Jax's name appeared across the screen. Your heart fluttered, a flicker of warmth piercing through your concentration. You reached for the phone with a small, involuntary smile.

"I haven’t even been gone a day, ya know," you teased, your voice light as a giggle escaped your lips.

Jax chuckled on the other end, the sound low and warm. “What can I say? Guess I’m needier than I thought. You make it home alright?”

Leaning back against the headboard, you couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “You worried about me, Teller? That’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Nah, just trying to make sure you didn’t wreck your car fantasizing about me on the drive back.”

“Oh, you caught me,” your tone heavy with sarcasm. “It’s a miracle I didn’t veer off the road, completely blinded by your endless charm and cocky ass smirk.” 

“This smirk’s got a fan club, babe.” Jax drawled, his voice oozing with confidence.

You scoffed, though the warmth spreading in your chest betrayed you. “Well, I’ll send in my resignation then. I don’t think I’m interested in being a card-carrying member.”

“Liar,” he fired back, his tone slipping into that low, cocky rasp that always made your pulse jump. “You’ve always been my number one fan, Pep. Just don’t wanna admit it. But it’s cool—I’ve got plenty of ways to convince you to renew. And the perks? You know they’re unforgettable.”

That rasp in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, heat sparking low in your belly. But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction. “I’m sure you’ve got the whole pitch rehearsed,” you shot back, keeping your tone light even as your heart fluttered. “But you should know—I’ve raised my standards since then.”

“That so?” his voice dipping lower, now almost a purr that curled through the phone and into your ear. “Good thing I’ve always been good at exceeding expectations.”

Your breath caught, desire simmering as the memory of his touch—his mouth—flashed unbidden in your mind. You gripped the phone tighter, determined to keep your tone even. “Bold of you to assume I’m that easy to impress these days.”

Jax chuckled softly, the sound dark and full of promise. “Oh, I remember exactly what it took to impress you. All those pretty little noises you used to make…” His voice trailed off, his seduction hanging in the air.

Your body betrayed you, a flush creeping over your skin as the unspoken memories lingered.

This motherfucker.

You exhaled a soft laugh, shaking your head as you twirled a pen between your fingers, grasping at the sliver of composure you still had. “Is there a point to this call, or was it just to inflate your ego?”

“Can’t it be both?” he countered, his tone teasing but softer, almost boyish. Then, after a brief pause, his voice dipped, speaking with a sincerity that made your stomach flip-flop. “Maybe I just needed to hear your voice.”

You sighed—his tone tender, carrying that quiet care he always reserved just for you. He softened in ways anyone rarely saw, his sharp edges smoothing as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting the harsher parts of himself touch you.

To everyone else, Jax was a force to be reckoned with—a volatile leader who thrived on controlled chaos. But with you, he wasn’t the ruthless protector of SAMCRO, he was simply Jax. The grit and intensity he showed to the rest of the world faded, leaving behind just the man beneath the weight of the patch. 

The playful edge lingered in your reply, an attempt to keep the moment light, but you needed to steer this conversation out of its current territory. “For your information, I made it home in one piece. Happy now?”

“Getting there,” he said softly, the smirk you could hear in his tone tinged with care. “Now tell me you aren’t still working.”

“I plead the fifth.” You responded sheepishly.

He groaned, dragging the sound out with exaggerated frustration that made you roll your eyes. “Pep, it’s after midnight. Get some sleep.” 

“Not until I’m done,” you replied firmly, flipping through the stack of papers in front of you. But as a beat of silence stretched on, your tone shifted, the weight of your discovery creeping in. “Hey… does the name Reed Daniels mean anything to you?”

The easy banter vanished, replaced by a charged stillness. When Jax finally spoke, suspicion edged his voice. “Daniels? The DA’s investigator?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, rising to stretch your stiff muscles. “He’s been popping up in a few places—his names on some old case files connected to the Warlords. And now he’s the lead investigator on your case. Doesn’t that seem… off?” you asked, beginning to pace. 

“Definitely off,” Jax confirmed, his tone sharp, the playfulness gone. “A couple years back, Chibs and I had a run-in with the Warlords, and one of their guys mentioned someone feeding them intel, keeping things clean when the heat got close. Daniels wasn’t named outright, but it fits.”

Your pulse quickened. “So he really is working with them?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Jax muttered. “He’s probably covering his own ass. Ties to the Warlords and keeping the DA happy? That’s power—and protection.”

“If Daniels is tied to this, it changes everything. I wonder if I can prove he’s manipulating evidence,” you said, your thoughts spilling into the open as the weight of the revelation settled over you, the implications unraveling in your mind

“Damn right it changes everything,” Jax said, his voice laced with a restrained anger. “But it also makes this mess even riskier. If Daniels is playing both sides, he’ll do whatever it takes to keep his hands clean. That includes burying us—and you.”

The warning in his voice sent a chill down your spine, but your determination flared. “Then we need to find the proof before he knows we’re onto him. There must be something tying him to the Warlords.”

“I’ll get the club digging,” Jax said, his tone resolute. “Reyes and his boys don’t move without a plan, and Daniels might’ve left something behind. If there’s dirt to find, we’ll uncover it.”

You hesitated, sitting back down against the headboard. “Jax, just… be careful, okay? If anyone connected gets wind of this, they won’t think twice about escalating things. I can’t have you, or any of the guys, getting dragged into something worse right now.”

His voice softened, but the resolve remained. “I hear you. But I’m not gonna sit back while this asshole tries to take me down.”

You knew better, Jax was methodical when it came to handling threats, calculating even when his emotions ran high. He didn’t rush in blindly, but once his sights were set on a target, he was relentless. And when it came to protecting the club, he operated with a precision that was both impressive and terrifying. That same drive was what made him such a formidable leader—and what made you so worried about what might come next.

“Jax,” you warned, your tone firm but tinged with unease, “don’t make a move until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

There was a moment of silence before he exhaled, a quiet concession. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

Even as he said it, you could hear the tension in his voice, the barely restrained need to act. It was Jax, after all—waiting had never been his strong suit. The faint flick of a lighter followed, then the soft sound of him exhaling smoke. The familiar, intimate noise sent a pang through you, a reminder of just how much space he still occupied in your mind.

“Can you do me a favor, though?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the rough edges softened with concern.

“What’s that?” you asked, stretching your back and legs, trying to ease the knot of tension his words had tied there.

“Get some rest, okay?” His voice held a disarming gentleness, the kind that always seemed to soothe you. “You’re no good to anyone if you burn yourself out.”

His words made your heart swell, the weight of his care slipping effortlessly past the walls you’d worked so hard to construct. No matter how much time passed, Jax knew how you operated. He could see the way you poured yourself into your work, how you pushed yourself too far, even when you thought no one else noticed.

You hesitated, torn between brushing him off and letting his concern linger. “I’ll try,” you said softly, though you weren’t entirely sure you believed yourself. “Goodnight, Jax.”

“Night, Pep,” he murmured, his voice carrying tenderness that lingered even after the line clicked dead.

You sighed, your fingers brushing the corner of the closest stack of case files. But Jax’s voice lingered, stubborn as ever, urging you to rest. For a moment, you just sat there, his words replaying in your mind, that unexpected softness swirling inside you. 

Slowly, you stood, brushing your hands against your thighs as you moved around the room, shoving the files to the empty side of the bed. A fleeting thought crossed your mind—wishing Jax was the one filling that space instead. The warmth that crept up your neck made you shake your head, a quiet blush heating your skin.

When you finally crawled into bed, you flicked off the bedside lamp, leaving the room bathed in faint moonlight. Sleep wouldn’t come easily—you knew that much—but you closed your eyes, letting out a long, measured breath.

Your thoughts drifted back to the way his voice softened when he said your name, the way he cared even when you tried to keep him at arm’s length. It was infuriating how easily he could reach you, how his concern could consume you.

You turned onto your side, staring at the wall as the minutes ticked by. You’d done this so many times before—compartmentalized, boxed up your emotions, shoved them somewhere unreachable. But tonight was different.

Because it was Jax.

So for now, just for a moment, you let yourself feel the full weight of his care—and the ache that came with it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days had blurred together, your time at home quickly dwindling as the work piled up. You’d thrown yourself into your part of the case, chasing leads and piecing together evidence, while Jax and SAMCRO handled things on their end. Or so you assumed. He’d been unusually quiet, the texts and calls that once punctuated your days now conspicuously absent.

It wasn’t like him.

Jax didn’t do quiet, not with you.

The thought nagged at you as you sat at your desk, flipping through notes you’d scrawled earlier. Witness statements, timelines, and inconsistencies in the DA’s case were scattered across your desk, the disarray a reflection of how you felt inside.

You glanced at the clock—nearly 10 p.m.—and let out a long breath. You’d spent the day tracking down a lead that fizzled into nothing and reviewing an expert’s deposition that could poke holes in the prosecution’s timeline. The latest developments with the Warlords were troubling, their reach deeper and more calculated than you’d expected. 

You leaned back in your chair, tilting your head to stretch your neck and rolling your shoulders in a futile attempt to shake off the tension that clung to you, frustration simmering beneath your exhaustion. Something wasn’t adding up. The silence from Jax, the Warlords’ calculated precision—it all felt off.

Your phone rang then, piercing through the quiet. Jax’s name flashing across the screen making your heart skip. You didn’t hesitate, your finger swiping to answer.

“Jax,” you answered cautiously, trying to keep your voice even.

“Hey,” he replied, his tone sharp, cutting straight to the point. “We need to talk.”

You sat up in your chair, the clipped edge of his voice immediately setting you on alert. “What’s going on?”

“Warlords,” he said flatly. “They know we’ve been digging. They sent a message.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, dread creeping in. “What kind of message?”

“They’re watching us,” he bit out, his voice thick with restrained anger. “They sent pictures—of our guys, their families.” His voice dropped into a deep growl. “Club property’s been hit. They’re making it crystal fucking clear they’re coming for us.”

You closed your eyes, his words landing like a punch. “Fuck,” you cursed. “This is exactly what we didn’t need. Do you have proof? Something we can use?”

“No,” he admitted, his frustration bleeding through. “But this isn’t about proof. It’s about sending a message. They're seeing how far they can push.”

“And what do you plan to do?” you asked warily, already dreading the answer. “You know they’re baiting you.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. “They crossed a big fucking line.”

Your jaw tightened as the knot in your stomach grew. “If you retaliate—”

“They threatened my family!” he cut in, his voice rising with barely contained fury. “You think I’m just going to sit back and let them get away with that?”

His words struck deeper than you expected, and for a moment, the intensity of his anger made your breath catch. But you pushed it aside, forcing yourself to stay clear headed. “You don’t get to make that call, Jax. Not with this trial hanging over your head. If you move on this, you’re playing right into their hands. The DA’s watching your every move, waiting for any excuse to bury you—and the club.”

The line went quiet except for his uneven breathing. “You think I don’t know that?” he said finally, his voice strained. “You think I don’t know what’s at stake?” he asked sharply. 

“Then act like it!” you snapped, your frustration at him flaring. “This isn’t just about the club, Jax! It’s about your freedom. You need to stand down.”

His laugh was low, bitter, and laced with sharp defiance. “I don’t need you to tell me how to run my club,” he hissed, the words cutting through the phone like a blade.

The harshness of his tone caught you off guard. His frustration, his temper, they were familiar, but this cutting, biting edge in his voice? It wasn’t something he directed at you. You couldn’t recall ever experiencing this version of him. 

But you weren’t one to back down. Not with him.

You straightened in your chair, your voice biting back with just as much force. “And I don’t need you to blow up your entire defense because you can’t keep your temper in check,” you shot. “You want to protect the club? Fine. But if you want to still be here to lead it when this is over, you’re going to have to be smarter than this.”

Silence followed, but you could feel the tension radiating through the line. When he finally spoke, his voice was clipped and cold. “I’ll handle it,” his words leaving no room for argument.

You frowned, gripping the phone tighter. “Handle it how?” you pressed, the suspicion clear in your voice.

“Just trust me,” he bit out, and before you could respond, the line went dead

“Son of a bitch,” you growled, lowering the phone with a frustrated sigh. Your knuckles turned white as you set it down, the tension coursing through your body. You knew better than to trust him in a moment like this. Jax was ruled by instinct, by loyalty, and by that maddening need to protect everyone he cared about, no matter the cost.

He didn’t wait for permission and certainly didn’t stop to consider consequences when the people he loved were threatened. It was what made him the leader he was, but it was also what made him dangerous—to himself and to everyone around him.

At this point, all you could do was hope that, for once, he’d set aside his impulses and think about what was truly at stake. The knot in your stomach tightened, and all you could do was brace yourself for whatever came next. Silently praying that the fallout was minimal.