#Pinch and a punch for the first day of the month
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HAPPY FUCKING FIRST OF DECEMBER BITCHES
#Christmas#1st of December#Pinch and a punch for the first day of the month#No returns#🎶Do they know it’s Christmas time at allll🎶
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Comfort Oc star I redesigned last year I lobe her vry much
#artwork#digital art#original art#art#artists on tumblr#oc art#oc#oc artwork#original character#my art#comfort oc#pink#purple#ibispaintx#ibispaint art#sona art#my artwrok#my oc#my bby#pinch punch first day of the month#queue#queued post#year old art
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hello August goodbye July. 2024 slow down you're going too quick
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Scheduling this post so I don't give my former housemates a heads up if they weren't thinking about it but do people know about pinch punch first day of the month? And if so do you play it?
If you don't know, on the first day of the month in like, primary school? We'd go round and say to people (and do the associated actions) "pinch punch first day of the month and no returns". There are some optional responses like "a pinch and a flick for being too quick" but I didn't do it for ages until it started up with some housemates of mine where we would violently run around the house trying to get each other before the other person got us. And now we play in our discord server. It's a good time what can I say!
#punch punch#first day of the month#no returns#btw if youre one of my old housemates and you see this before youve pinch punched me this counts#seven swans having thoughts#polls
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december playlist is packed 😌😌
#PINCH AND A PUNCH FOR THE FIRST DAY OF THE MONTH!!!!#jay talks#jay listens#december#playlist#spotify
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So excited for this weekend… monza curse muah ha ha ha
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Pinch, punch first day of the month no returns!
Actually can't belive it's July already???? Mate I swear it's March?????
#july 2023#pinch punch first day of the month#does anybody else do that with their family#lol it's a war in our house
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They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.
The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’
Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.
He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.
He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.
“ Hey, Hero.”
He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.
Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.
He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.
The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.
“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.
Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.
Steve takes a sharp breath.
“ What?”
‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.
Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.
Except maybe not always.
Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“
“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”
Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”
“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.
Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”
Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”
“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.
“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.
He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.
“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.
He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.
When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.
Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”
And he blinks, realization dawning.
This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.
He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.
They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.
Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.
He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.
“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.
“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.
His best friend had been in on it.
He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”
The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.
Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.
“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.
Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.
He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.
‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.
He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.
Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.
As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’
Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.
“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.
Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just��� If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”
His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”
Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.
Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.
She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.
“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.
He nods.
She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”
She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.
The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.
That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.
It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.
" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."
Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.
Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.
He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.
He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.
A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.
It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,
But there was definitely someone in his house.
He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.
There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.
He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.
A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.
One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.
The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.
Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.
A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.
" ' Hey, Hero.' "
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#camazotz eddie munson#rottenaero#rottenaero rots#rottenaero writes#steddie drabble
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NEVER GOT YOUR NAME
✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader ✧ summary: based of this drabble — you're ex is borderline harassing you. he just will not leave you alone, and in a desperate attempt to get him off your back, you tell a little white lie. in panic, you grab the first stranger to walk by and introduce him as your date ✧ cw: fluff, light profanity, one little comment about previous sexual relationship, arguing, word vomit ngl (i'm describing too much sorry) pining, reader is smaller than satoru, mild use of petnames, no use of y/n ✧ word count: 3.5k
He was a menace. A true and genuine menace, who seemed to have some sort of natural ability in finding you, no matter where you were.
Maybe getting a restraining order was the next step — there was no way he managed to just randomly run into at the rate that he was, whether that was in the grocery store, the gas station or just on the street. No, he had to be stalking you, right? The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give this guy, your god awful ex, the privilege of fulfilling his desires of bumping into you.
Yet, here you stood in front of him again.
His eyebrows pinched together, an innocent little smirk tilting his mouth crooked, feeding you the same lines he always did.
“Great seeing you again,” like you hadn’t ran into him not even three days ago. “You look fantastic, as always. How’ve you been, sweets?” Urgh, one of the many nicknames he had named you — your stomach turning at the sound of it. You were scared you might actually hurl.
“Stop calling me that,” you demanded, keeping your voice low. He always managed to bring your anger right to the surface, to which you had to use all your energy not to blow up in his face. It had already happened once, about two months after you broke up with him. You had raised your voice at him and lashed out, causing some random bystander to interfere — who had then proceed to take his side. Unbelievable, as if he wasn’t the one who had taken you for granted for the entirety of your relationship.
“Sorry, old habits die hard, you know.” So full of shit. You’d been broken up for months, there shouldn’t have been any problem dropping the pet names. He only did it as a tactic to try and manipulate you into his arms again. And to think you willingly used to sleep with this guy. “Since we’re both here, why don’t we grab lunch together?”
“Oh, please,” you breathed, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“It’ll be good for us, sweets-“ don’t punch him, don’t punch him, don’t punch him. “Maybe we can talk some things-“
“I’m actually here on a date!”
Finally he shut up, only for his face to twist into an expression of pure disgust. It was clear the idea had never even crossed his mind — and you would have been able to enjoy his agony had it not been for the fact that it was a complete and utter lie, thrown out in a moment of desperation.
What were you to do when your ex decided to wait around for your date to arrive, and he never showed? You could already picture his face — the patronising pity he would pay you, while you’d be able to read his satisfaction behind his eyes, as he would use it against you for months to come.
You had only bought yourself some time and you needed to think fast.
“Who? I mean, do I know them? Have you met them before?” He stuttered out questions of bewilderment as your limbs were growing ever more frantic at your side.
And then the bell above the entrance of the cafe chimed a sweet tune, eyes snapping towards the sound. “Ah, there he is!” Your arms acted on their own accord, hands grabbing onto the bicep of the person who had been so unfortunate to walk in right as you were spiralling.
Swallowing the worst of your anxiety, you dared turn your head towards the random person, hoping to god he wasn’t ugly (because that would just be yet another thing your ex would badger you about).
Due to his height, you had to angle your head more than expected to meet his piercing eyes that were ogling you with complete confusion — but you only had time to take in his appearance for a slit second before you shot him a pleading look, betting everything on the off chance that he would be able to read the situation — but also finding it in himself to play along to your little performance.
Your fingers squeezed lightly at his arm, bringing him back to reality. Then it only took him a second to make up his mind, the white haired stranger wiping off his confusion and confidently throwing his muscular arm across your shoulders. Once he turned to face your ex, he had painted his features with the smuggest grin one could imagine, revealing a charming dimple.
He tilted forward slightly, which only brought more attention to how much taller he was than your ex, and shot his hand out between them. “Satoru, pleasure to meet you.” His tone matched his expression, not a single speckle of insecurity to pick up on anywhere. Your ex stared at his hand with disdain before begrudgingly accepting the gesture and introducing himself in return. “Hm, don’t think she’s mentioned you.”
Your lips parted in surprise, not expecting this Satoru to take his role so seriously — and then put on an award winning show right off the bat, nonetheless. Was it finally your turn to be blessed by the universe with some good karma in the shape of the most perfect stranger to deal with the situation?
Turning to take a quick glance at your ex, you had to press your lips together to choke back the cackle that threatened to escape. His expression was priceless, Satoru’s innocent little comment rolling of his tongue so effortlessly, causing a slight twitch in your ex’s eye.
“Well, I’m her-“ then he cleared his throat, struggling to finish his sentence. You weren’t surprised his title died in his throat, having never really accepted the fact that the relationship with over.
“He’s my ex,” you said, finding some courage to casually place your hand on Satoru’s chest, hoping and begging you weren’t making him uncomfortable by crossing a line.
“Aaah, your ex,” this Satoru trialed off with an awkward raise of the eyebrows before he turned to look at you again. That’s when you finally got to take a proper look at his breathtaking eyes, the whole ocean trapped in his irises. But you couldn’t let yourself fall completely mesmerised — you shook off the affect his piercing eyes seemed to have. “Sorry I’m running a little late. I stopped by the bookstore down the street to see if they had that book you recommended on our first date.” Then he served you what seemed like a genuine smile.
Stop, not the time to admire the handsome stranger!
You bashfully tilted your head forward while the sweetest chuckle traveled past your lips, also having to sell the performance. “How sweet of you to remember.”
“Of course!” He smoothly removed his arm from your shoulder to slide it along your back, moving it in comforting circles — but he never let it travel too far.
Your ex had his glare glued to Satoru’s gesture, unable to look away no matter how badly he wanted to.
“Never got around to that one,” your ex said with an awkward, forced laugh in an attempt to shift the attention back to him. He probably thought he was being charming (he always thought he was), but his little comment only gave you another reminder to why you had broken up with him — he never cared about your interests, as he couldn’t be bothered to pick up your favourite book, no matter how many times you had asked him if he could at least give it a try.
“Huh, how unfortunate.” Again, your ex couldn’t conceal the little reaction Satoru caused in his face by his incredibly taunting tone.
He cleared his throat again, and you could see how he was grasping at straws trying to redeem himself. “So, what do you have planned?” It wasn’t too obvious, but you could tell — you could tell he asked as a challenge, certain your “date” wouldn’t be able to suffice an answer that would leave him satisfied.
You opened your mouth to answer, but only managed to take a breath before Satoru had already started his lengthy explanation. “Well, first I’m taking her out for lunch, obviously,” he mused, taking a quick glance around your surroundings. “And I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but I got us entrance tickets for the botanical garden uptown. She told me she’s been wanting to go for months.” Then he turned to look at you.
He said it with such a genuine smile painting the corner of his lips, both of you letting the eye contact linger for a second. For once you were thankful for your ex, because if it wasn’t for him drawing Satoru’s alluring eyes away, you were scared you might just have found yourself swooning a little.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” your ex chuckled in response with a nonchalant eye roll, “she might have mentioned it once or twice.”
“Hm,” Satoru huffed, sucking in his cheeks and eyeing him up and down
Pathetic was really the only word that Satoru would use to best describe the individual in front of him. He just seemed so puny, reeking of insecurity, only amplified by how he had so easily went along with the lie of a botanical garden — something Satoru had just pulled from the top of his head.
A huge, nervous lump traveled down his throat as Satoru held his gaze hostage, his dominant behaviour easily smothering any sprinkle of confidence your ex might have possessed at one point — all by just being there. And it was just so satisfying that it was finally your turn to watch your no-good ex being the one who was tormented for once.
“Well-“ his voice cracked the slightest, Satoru pursing his lips in amusement at the little slip, “I have to get going now. I’ll see you around,” stumbling over his words as his face shyly grew redder. Then he just turned on his heel and left, leaving no time for you to even say goodbye.
Satoru instantly felt your body relax at his side with a deep exhale, the hand that had shyly rested on his chest with modesty falling the second the door was shut — and once you took a step in front of him, he became hyper aware of how close to him you had been the entire time. With the sudden absence of your body next to his, he realised how perfectly you had just seemed to fit next to him. Nearly as if you had been made simply to be by his side.
And stood in front of him, he finally got the chance to take a look at you. A proper look at you, and damn, you were beautiful. Your eyes were kind, which amazed him considering the unpleasant encounter that had just taken place.
The chuckle you’d faked along with his act was still resting on your lips, but now it definitely seemed more real — warm.
“Thank you so much!” You gushed, “I am so sorry I just dragged you into that! I was panicking.”
Satoru watched intently as you spoke, unable to peer his eyes off you. His attention held on to every syllable, entirely captivated by your person, eyes roaming your face to take in every little detail there was to observe.
“Shit,” you suddenly interrupted yourself, taking a glance at your watch.
“I never caught-“
“I really wish I could stay and treat you for lunch, as thanks,” you cut him off, seemingly not even acknowledging how he had tried to speak, rummaging through your bag frantically before pulling out your wallet, “but because of him I’m running late. So, here, take this,” you chuckled lightly while stuffing his hands full of cash. “I really appreciate what you did!” Satoru was barely able to decode what you were saying as it all came tumbling out in one breath.
Continuing to spew a string of thank you’s, you quickly backed out of the cafe, his eyes following you as you jogged lightly down the street and out of sight.
Satoru was left utterly baffled, simply ogling the vacated spot you had occupied seconds ago.
Of all the times Satoru would end up tongue tied, this was the worst possible moment — he was cursing himself relentlessly for not being quick enough to demand a name, and now you were just gone, some random person he’d been lucky enough to cross paths with for a moment.
He knew he should just get on with his day — use the money you had gifted him and buy himself that sweet treat he wanted and forget about you. But he couldn’t — he wouldn't.
Had you just decided to walk into a random cafe you had just so happened to walk past that particular day?
Satoru certainly thought so. Because when he couldn’t rid you from his mind, he had gone back to that very same cafe, childlike optimism filling his body while he lingered the area, waiting for your figure to show.
It never did.
His patience quickly ran out, growing more restless every day that passed where he didn’t see you stroll down the street to return to the cafe to grab the lunch you never got to have.
He couldn’t let it rest in the hands of the universe any longer. After days of casually stalking the area, he decided to strut through the entrance of the building to simply ask.
“And how can I help you today, sir?” The sweet girl behind the counter mused, the perfect customer service smile greeting him as he leaned his entire weight in the edge of the counter.
“Hi there, remember me?”
He saw her shoulders rise slightly as she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t,” yet another polite smile.
“I was in here about three weeks ago. Was with this really pretty girl-“
“Sir,” she gently interrupted him, still the same smile on her face, “we see hundred of faces every day. We have no way of remembering them all.”
His head fell back dramatically, huffing in disappointment as his fingers flexed against the marble top. “Thanks, anyway,” he mumbled quietly, shuffling over to a secluded table in the corner, sulking in his lonesome while his eyes were locked on the door, still filled with a light glimmer of hope that you would show.
It became routine — sitting in the same corner in the back, ordering the same thing while he waited for three hours everyday before he eventually had to leave, with a heavy heart, to attend to his duties.
And if the nice barista didn’t recognise him before, she definitely did now, walking over to his table and serving him his plate with a sympathetic smile. “No show today either?” The most theatrical sigh would leave his lips every time she asked the question, sad puppy dog eyes on display as he shook his head. “Sorry, buddy.”
“It’s getting a little sad, don’t you think?” Her coworker would comment once she rejoined her behind the counter, both of them keeping an eye on him with pinched eyebrows.
“I don’t know,” she breathed, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s a little romantic.”
Then they would share a look, some judgement passing between their eyes before they burst into innocent laughter, wondering how long they would get to witness his yearning before he eventually gave up his dreams of finding you again.
For days, Satoru’s head would snap towards the door every time the tiny bell rang, witnessing all sorts of people come to enjoy a little treat but not a single one of them fit your description.
Maybe this was just too hopeless? Tokyo was the most populated city in the world — bumping into the same person twice was like finding a needle in a high stack. Scratch that, it was like finding a rice grain in the great Sahara desert. But he kept praying, hoping the universe would bless him with his desire.
It was a perfectly okay day.
The temperature was nice — higher than expected for a mid-fall day — but the weather wasn’t much to brag about. For the past week it had been raining. Not pouring, but a light, constant drizzle that tapped quietly against the cafe window as Satoru stared mindlessly out at the scenery of concrete buildings and trees changing colour.
There was only a single string of hope that kept him sitting in that chair day after day, but it was destined to break soon. His head didn’t even turn towards the door anymore when that little bell rang with the familiar chime. He simply rested his chin in the palm of his hand, giving all the responsibility back to the universe.
The familiar barista came to his table, picking up the plate littered with only crumps and not one, but two, empty coffee mugs (that had been more sugar than coffee).
“Same time tomorrow?” She asked sweetly, wiping the table clean while balancing the dishes in her other hand.
He instantly wiped away his disappointment, plastering on the most convincing smile he could muster as he turned to face her. “I don’t think so.” She stared wide eyed at him, mouth parted into a shy ‘o’, a little disappointed to see him finally give up, having started to root for him a long time ago. “You’ve had exceptional service,” he beamed from ear to ear as he got up from his chair, her eyes never leaving him as he stood to tower over her.
He gave her one last tight lipped smile as he passed her. “Goodbye,” she stuttered quietly, keeping her pitying gaze on him as he headed for the exit.
The bell rang one last time, and Satoru was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to hear the obnoxiously high-pitching ding again — his relief short lasted as he crashed into a figure smaller than himself the second he was about to exit.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching- well, if it isn’t my knight in shining armour!”
What were the chances?
After all those days — waiting, staring, stuffing his face with sweets — and to think he was just about to give up. Maybe the universe had finally decided to take pity on him, wanting to reward his patience.
You looked as breathtaking as the day you had desperately latched onto his arm — maybe even better. You seemed lighter almost, as if someone had lifted off pounds from your shoulders. Same kind eyes, but a sense of peace glossing over them instead of frustration.
“It’s you,” it fell from his lips involuntary.
“In the flesh,” you chuckled. The sweet, vibrating sound faded into a clear of the throat when Satoru only continued to ogle you without a word. “Oh, sorry, you were leaving-“ you stuttered, stepping aside to let him pass. You were left confused when he didn’t walk past you, but rather kept his glare on you.
“I never got your name.”
“Sorry?” You asked, his voice too quiet to pick up on.
The same smug grin you’d seen on his face so many weeks ago greeted you, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. “I never got your name,” more assertive now that he had increased his volume.
“Oh,” you said shyly, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. Eyeing his attractive smile, you let your name roll off your tongue before mirroring his expression of happiness.
If it was even possible, his smile stretched even further across his face, the dimples you’d noticed last time appearing on each side of his face. “Nice to finally meet you. Properly this time.”
His natural charm just steamed off him in abundance, something you had only appreciated in glimpses in your stressed haze. “You too,” you smiled.
“I haven’t seen you here since that day.”
“Well, that’s because I haven’t been here since then,” you chucked nervously, glancing towards the register when you felt some interrogating eyes on you — both of the girls behind the counter wringing their heads away from you and Satoru. “My ex has had a tendency to linger in areas we ‘bump’ into each other,” you raise your fingers to gesture the quotation marks, “but I actually think meeting you might have scared him off for good. Haven’t seen him since, so thank you again.”
“Truly my pleasure,” he straightened his posture, his height growing even more impressive. He spoke your name, and despite not really knowing you, he said it with a tenderness your ex always lacked. “I was wondering,” he took a step closer, his eyes flittering between yours, “I owe you a trip to a botanical garden, don’t you think?”
Your breath instantly hitched in your throat, heat spreading modestly across your face.
Of course the handsome stranger who had come to your rescue in a moment of genuine despair had crossed your mind from time to time since then — you had just come to terms with the fact you would never be as lucky to cross paths with the polite stranger again. And the part of you that had been plagued with embarrassment was okay with that.
But the excitement in his eyes as he waited for you to answer slowly erased the uncomfortable feeling.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
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a/n it's finally here and i think i'm happy with it... not entirely sure. think i've seen myself blind on this fic. however, thank you so much for the reception on the little drabble that took me literally ten minutes to write, hope this lives up to your expectations <3 likes, comments and reblogs is much appreciated
©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited
#— ଓ my creative corner#jjk#jjk oneshot#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo#satoru gojo oneshot#satoru gojo x reader#satoru#gojo#satoru x reader#gojo x reader#satoru gojo imagine#jjk imagine#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#jjk satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru
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[tfp] starscream x human!reader
summary: starscream wakes you up to see the sunrise
cw: fluff, pinch of angst, starscream has feelings for you, silliness, bad writing, i may have butchered his character a bit but i want him to be happy for once
word count: 1365
btw if you want to be silly about your favs my askbox is open!! you can send thirsts too wink wink ;)))
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Aggressive tapping on the window ripped you from a cozy sleep. You quickly propped yourself up on your arms, looking for the source of the sound. The warm blanket slipped off your shoulders, waking you even more. Your sleepy mind tried to shake off the fog with rapid blinking as you looked around, alarmed.
You tapped twice on the screen of your phone lying on the table next to your bed. Four o'clock. Good Lord. So much for sleeping in.
Who would even go through the trouble of reaching your house (crossing acres of untouched forest), tapping on the window hard enough to wake you up, and then disappearing without a trace? A thief? you thought. No, a thief would take extra care not to wake you. And would probably use the front door. With your still-clouded mind, you tried to remember who knew you lived here, but only two names came to mind: your mother and…
Red light pierced through the window, illuminating your bedroom.
Oh, right. He.
You slid out of bed and shuffled to the window. Even with limited light, you could make out the look of impatience on his elongated, metal face. You’d taken too long.
"Finally! Does it take humans this long to wake up?"
"Hi, Starscream," you greeted him. After a few months of acquaintance, you’d learned to ignore his jabs directed at you and your species. "May I ask what you need from me at four"—you emphasized the hour—"in the morning?"
You yawned, and he grimaced, his optics flicking away.
"I need you to finally step outside. Then you're coming with me."
"But it’s so early…"
"Will you be more encouraged if I punch a hole through your wall and take you by force?"
"Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't done that already."
"Don’t tempt me," he warned.
Your mind flashed back to the incident four months ago when he actually demolished half your wall because you apparently hadn’t come outside fast enough. Those were the days of testing his patience, which, as you quickly and painfully learned, was more fragile than porcelain.
"Get out. I'm not giving you a third warning."
You sighed because, unfortunately, he was right; you could soon end up in his servo, your house with yet another unwanted window. You put on your warmest coat, an old shearling from your mother, and left your cozy little home, making sure to lock the door behind you. It was still dark outside, but the first hints of dawn were breaking through the treetops. Sunrise was near.
"Finally! I can’t believe such a simple task took you this long."
"I’m sorry, alright. I just don't want to freeze to death."
One moment, you were standing quietly on the ground, bantering with your alien companion, and the next, he scooped you up in his claws and placed you in his servo. You held tight to his thumb, pressing against the only anchor point several meters above the ground. He was warm, which still amazed you. You nestled closer to his slender finger.
Starscream’s optics lingered on you for a moment, ensuring you were alright. You noticed.
"I’m fine," you assured him, smiling softly.
He looked away, embarrassed to be caught in such a state; you shouldn’t see him like this. You shouldn’t know that he cared, that he was trying to be gentler with your body; that his spark shone brighter when he was with you, that your companionship mattered to him.
The problem was, you did know. The humans he thought were primitives did have well-developed emotional intelligence, and you were no exception. It took you just a few weeks to see right through him. At first, he thought it was about finding his weakness, then stab him in the back, contact the right people or Autobots, and turn him in. Betray him. But each week, the betrayal he almost expected never came, and before he knew it, he started to trust you. And he hoped you trusted him, too—otherwise, you wouldn’t have stepped out of your house at such an early hour to meet him, right? He wanted to call it foolishness and naivety, but he knew you too well by now. You weren't either.
"I haven’t seen you in a while," you remarked after a moment of silence. "Are you okay?"
His wings fluttered happily. If you noticed, you chose not to comment on it, and he was forever grateful for that.
"Yes, I’m alright," he replied briefly.
"I’m glad."
His spark flickered with joy. It was nice to have someone who cared. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone of his kind had asked him something like that. Maybe no one ever had.
"Where are we going?" you asked. You didn’t expect a clear answer, but just listening to his voice gave you comfort. You missed this diva.
"Patience," he deflected. "I don’t want to spoil the surprise."
Oh. You beamed. With one sentence, he made you feel special, not to mention excited. Suddenly, the night’s chill stopped biting your cheeks, and the last traces of irritation at being woken up early faded away.
Starscream noticed the sudden shift in your body language, allowing himself to catch the mood. A dangerous thought popped into his processor—he’d like to see you smiling more, him being the reason for your smile. He wanted to make you happy, not occasionally, not out of whim or boredom; he wanted your smile to be genuine, brought on by his gestures or words. He held onto the hope that his surprise would have a similar effect.
As you climbed the forested hill, Starscream pondered when you stopped being just another human and became [Your Name]. Was it when you didn’t hesitate to express disapproval of Megatron, who had tormented him for most of his long life only to abandon him on an alien planet? Or maybe when you outright told him that you cared for him and that his opinion mattered to you when he wasn’t pointing a weapon at you?
You’d both fallen hard, but he was at the bottom.
"I think I know what this surprise is," you whispered as the forest thinned out, revealing a meadow dotted with rocks. "You remembered that I love sunrises."
"It’s hard to forget when someone keeps pestering you about it."
He was bluffing; you saw right through it. You’d only mentioned it once, a long time ago, but you let him win, not wanting to spoil the moment.
"Thank you," you whispered.
He muttered something under his breath, but his wings lifted proudly, betraying his true emotions.
Starscream stopped in front of a large rock jutting from the ground in the middle of the clearing. He placed his hand on the hard, dewy surface so you could step down and admire the view in front of you.
"Wow," you whispered.
You’d arrived just in time for the sunrise, which was slowly emerging from behind thick clouds, creating an orange gradient, fading into muted pinks and shades of gray. The panorama before you was raw and ethereal. Untouchable. It formed an image Starscream had reserved just for you. And that meant so, so much to you.
"I think I’m going to cry," you sniffled.
"What? Why?" he squawked, stunned.
Did you not like it? Humans only cried when they were sad, right? For Primus’s sake, he’d messed up again, as always. But before his worry could turn to anger, your response reassured him.
"I’m just… so happy. You have no idea how much. Thank you for bringing me here; I’ll never forget it."
There it was again. That pleasant churning in his spark, throwing him off his calculated balance. Would you be just as thrilled if he gave you a star from the sky?
"The pleasure’s all mine," he replied, now focusing his entire attention on you.
Impulsively, he reached out towards you. A sharp claw, designed to cause suffering, now gently brushed your back with the utmost care. Starscream soaked in your contentment like forbidden nectar, losing himself in the moment, wishing it would last forever.
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I SEE YOU (FIRST TIME IS A CHARM)
a/n: a simple first date of frat!miguel and cheerleader!reader after the party
warnings; tiny angst but then turned to comfort<3
—
miguel sometimes think it would be good if he occasionally pinches himself in the arm. or glen could do it if he wanted to since he’s got quite a grip. enough to make sure he’s not living the dream.
for example, finally scoring a chance to take you out after months of pining on you? not getting rejected by his long time crush?! scratch pinching, somebody slap the dog shit out of him and tell him that this is real,
he had texted beck prior the date that he needed his right hand man to keep tabs on everything at the party. and being the good best friend that he is, beck congratulated him for finally having the balls to actually do it,
beck: so i guess that means we don’t have to hear about you moaning her name again during sleep?
miguel: shut the fuck up, kingsley. do as what you’re told.
beck: aye aye buddy
“so uh.. are you hungry? we could grab something to eat if you want to” he asked you while looking over to the passengers seat
“starving, actually” you replied with a giggle, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. “got any recommendations, o’hara?”
but for a guy who knows his ways around women, he sure is nervous when it comes to you. and fuck, he cursed himself for being like this. he wanted to look cool in front of you, not stupid. what is wrong with him?!
“well we can have something off the diner on 13th street. that’s twenty minutes from campus, though. sushi stop, i know one where they serve the best sashimi. and kebab food truck but i don’t think you-“
“a kebab?!” a gasp fell from your mouth, eyes widening at the sound of middle eastern delicacy. “yes. no doubt. i want it. let’s punch it!”
he swore he’s not the type who falls in love quickly. but the way your eyes twinkle in excitement when he mentioned about kebabs,
he might just have,
he smiled at you before putting his focus back on the road. “kebab food truck it is”
one thing that miguel had forgotten to mention, is that food trucks don’t have tables and chairs. so people either eat them while standing up or inside their cars,
he didn’t want to trouble you at all, because looking at you right now, in a very pretty dress and heels, he doubt. that you actually wanted to eat while standing up,
“i’m so sorry, muñeca. i forgot to say something about this” he scratched the back of his head. eyes looking through the window where the kebab truck is at,
with a shrug you shot him a reassuring smile. “i don’t mind standing up while eating if that’s what you worried about”
he shook his head. “i mind actually. can’t let you eat and get tired while standing. how about we’ll eat in my car and i’ll go order something for you, si? what do you prefer? i swear if it you say vegan, i will leave you”
you laughed at that comment, “no of course not. i’ll get the chicken one, medium sized. and a cold water”
he pulled out his cash from the back pocket, smiling at you. “be right back”
there was definitely something different about him. a good different. one of them was how miguel is not how the people at campus had painted him to be. could be too soon for that conclusion but throughout the car ride, you were extremely sure that miguel is not a jackass.
instead, he had asked about which songs you wanted him to play in his car. whether or not if you’re comfortable and constantly saying sorry if he overstepped. it all seemed so sweet to you,
your friends would probably give you a weird look praising such simple things. the bare minimum. but these days, those ‘bare minimums’ are hard to pluck from a decent person, correct? nothing’s wrong with praising them anyway.
he knocked on the window, pulling you out of the train thoughts, in which you then rolled it down. “here you go, muñeca. the man assumed that it was for me so he put a lot of chicken there, so-“
“it’s fine. i said i was starving anyway” you took it from his hand, the smell of the delicious meal was making your mouth water.
miguel had himself crouched down to your eye level, thumb pointing over his shoulder. “so. standing up? or my car?”
you thought for a while, then an idea came into your mind with a pretty smile. “got a better one”
miguel frowned in confusion at that, watching you opening the door before walking out of the vehicle. and that’s when you and him standing almost chest to chest, unintentionally.
the moment he looked at you, his mind immediately went blank. in that exact moment, he thought that if it was possible to put charges on someone for how they stare with their eyes, yours would be number one.
because it felt like he was getting hypnotized by your beautiful irises and that there’s no turning back for him. he would volunteer to drown himself in them if it means he gets to see those eyes forever,
“—way nicer”
he blinked. mentally slapping himself in the forehead because he had just realized he wasn’t listening to you at all, too busy day dreaming about your gaze.
“i’m sorry, w-what were you saying?”
an amused smile made it towards your lips, “i said, we could sit by the pavement here. it’s way nicer. we could act like one of those drunk people after night out.”
“but we’re not drunk, muñeca”
“i said act, miguel” you reply in a duh tone, closing the door behind before guiding him to one of the empty ones where it’s not taken, “see? this one’s good spot”
one thing he noticed, you were wearing a pretty dress. “wait!” miguel then rushed towards the back of his car to grab a jacket before going back to you and laying it down on the asphalt. “there. now you can sit”
that one made your heart flutter, eyes moved up to him. “miguel you can’t just do that. your jacket will get dirty”
“I don’t mind. they made washing machine for a reason. i wasn’t going to let your dress get dirty anyway. the color is too pretty” he smiled, finally taking a seat on the rough surface with you following his actions after,
it was quite a cold night, and you regret not bringing a jacket along with you. what even was this weather? sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s rainy and sometimes you couldn’t even fucking predict it,
you tried not to let the chills get to you, because it seemed like miguel wasn’t really bothered by it. this man had his whole arms out in a muscle tank and he sat still like it was nothing,
“this is the best kebab i have ever tasted” you moaned with your eyes close on you had the first bite, chewing on the sweet delish,
miguel tried not to let his mind wander when he saw you doing that. “you like it?”
“like?! i love it! miguel this is amazing!” eyes turning into hearts when you gaze the food upon your hands, “how did you find this perfect place?”
“me and the guys often tried to find new places to eat other than burgers and hot dogs after parties and football practice” he settled his legs down, crossing them. “saw this truck while passing by and decided to give it a go”
you hummed. “do you do that a lot?”
“do what a lot?”
“partying” you took another bite, looking over at him as he raised his brows at the question,
“w-well” he chuckled nervously, thinking of a better way to answer. “if i’m being honest, i don’t enjoy it… as much as i did before”
“really?”
“yeah. it was fun at first. partying, getting shit faced… feels lame now. also, probably because now i think of alcohol are just empty calories”
“is that why you wanted to take me out? so you didn’t have a reason to stay there?”
his eyes turned wide, shaking his head in panic mode. “what? no! no of course not! i wanted to! i mean—it just felt like it was the perfect timing! and i— I—so—didn’t i tell you i have a crush on you?!”
with that, you laughed. placing a hand over his knee. “just joking, miguel”
oh fuck you’re touching him.
‘keep it cool, miguel’ he thought,
“oh-oh right, right. sorry” he replied, clearing his throat. still feeling nervous. “you know, i rarely see you at our weekly parties. only gloria and some of your friends.” he pointed out. wiping some of the sauce from the corner of his lips,
you answered. “not really my scene”
“you don’t like parties?”
“not really. i prefer when it’s just a few people that i know. not a whole campus. i like it better when it’s intimate”
“why is that?” he couldn’t help but ask,
“so i can hear people better when they talk. i love having a conversation”. it’s simple really. and it’s true.
you haven’t gone out to wild parties or clubs in a while, and it was safe to say that your life is truly at peace now. not saying that you would turn down any offer to go to one, but you just don’t do it as often,
waste of money and energy. simple things like sleeping before eleven, waking up early, getting your work done and having walks or working out regularly have been your main priorities now,
“ah, i see” he nodded at that, a smile appeared on his face. “intimate party yeah? i keep that in mind”
you raised one of your brows. “you don’t have to just because i said so, miguel”
he shrugged, taking another bite of his food “if that’s what i have to do just so i could see you around more often”
his response completely took you by surprise. and you had no clue what to say to that. fluttered? sure, that’s why you tried to suppress the smile on your face by looking away. you were quite thankful that it was dark out. that way, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush prominent on your cheeks.
the two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a while. devouring the perfect late night meal while watching the cars go by, accompanied by mindless chatters from left to right,
it did come to a surprise that you and miguel have a lot more in common than you think. something that you didn’t see coming. hell, you didn’t even think that you would actually converse with the head of a fraternity and captain of a football team.
a person whom you always try to avoid ever since freshmen year.
“another thing—why haven’t i seen you in lots of my games?”
“miguel, i come to your games. i’m the cheerleader for crying out loud”
“what i meant was why have you never stick around? you do your part and then poof! you’re gone”
raising an eyebrow, you eye him. “are you stalking me now?” he laughs at the accusation, but it’s not entirely false. “i have no reason to stay, why would i stick around?”
“not even for me?” he fakes a dramatic gasp, hand over his chest as if he’s actually hurt. “that pains me, muñeca”
“you’re getting way ahead of yourself, o’hara” you reply with an eye roll but smile anyway,
miguel then looks at the road, shaking his head. “unbelievable. and here i thought about handing you my jersey for you to wear next at our championship game”
and man, did your heart somehow stop for a second there.
because miguel o’hara do not give away his jersey numbers. not the real one nor the merch ones.
“you’re joking?”
“why would i be?” miguel turned his head at you, finding it is much better to look at you rather than the busy road ahead of him,
shrugging, you looked down at your open kebab. “people talk about how your jerseys are off limits. you don’t give away those numbers for anyone”
“well” he breathed out, chewing his lower lip while fiddling with his fingers. “you’re not just anyone to me”
a breath hitched on your throat when his ruby eyes met with your pretty ones once more. and he made a mental note on how your smile deflated in seconds after he said that,
and fuck fuck fuck, he didn’t mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable. it was the last thing he wanted to do. because he did feel like he was confessing too much to you that night.
but what could he have done?! he likes you and you make him nervous. put the two and two together, and miguel would sputter bunch of shit from his mouth without actually thinking,
“shit” he shook his head, looking away from embarrassment. “i didn’t—I didn’t mean to say that— i mean, i did but—sorry if it made you feel weird. that was too straight forward”
you couldn’t lie, it was rather entertaining to see the captain of a football team and the so called ‘player of campus’ stumble upon his words like that. usually, you would simply roll your eyes and brushed every single guy who had said that to you. because you knew all they wanted to do was to get into your pants,
however miguel looked genuine. and by how fast his cheeks were warming to the color of crimson red or how he scratched the tip of his ears was pretty explanatory,
he wasn’t trying to get into your pants,
instead of giving him a dirty look, you just smiled shyly at him who looked down on his lap. probably re-thinking about his life choices.
“that’s cute” you managed to mumble, scooting a bit closer to his body. putting the half of kebab down beside you. “you actually like me, huh?”
he scoffed at the silly thought, as if the answer to that question had already been written well enough. “i really like you” he confessed, craning his head towards you and he almost passed out on how close you were to him. “makes me go crazy every time i see you, muñeca—i counted the times that you looked at me for just one split second and i died on days that you didn’t”
the way he spoke so carefully and lovingly with you was truly something you had longed from someone. took you by surprise just how much it meant to him for something so simple like wanting you to look at him for once,
one that you didn’t expect miguel o’hara would have said,
“yeah?” and this time, your voice wavered a little. almost like he made his mission accomplished by making you nervous too. “have you been gawking at me then?”
“god you made it sound like i’m a creep” he shook his head out of embarrassment making you laugh. “not gawk—just simply admiring you from afar—during class and your cheerleading practice. but it’s not a weird ass admiring or something like that. hope that’s okay”
it was. indeed it was.
because before this happened, you always assumed that miguel was the typical jock that romcoms have always shown. heartless, player, annoying, screw ups, and the list goes on.
but fuck was he different.
“more than okay” you responded rather quietly, letting your shoulder touched with his and it made miguel’s eyebrows quirk upwards,
and the moment miguel let his eyes looked into yours for more than twenty seconds, he knew for the second time that night—he was in. hooked line and sinker.
you pulled him in deeper than anyone had ever did without you even realizing. he hadn’t even shared a three hour conversation with you. this is the longest he had spoken with the girl he had a crush on,
miguel gulped by the sight of your pretty lips and doe eyes looking up at him. the innocence twinkled within your gaze and he had to refrain himself from kissing you out in the street,
it was one of the hardest thing he had to do that night,
“i just wanted you to give me a chance” he admitted, resting his arms on his knees as he stared at you. “to look at me as me—not as someone who people had spread rumors about on campus—because i’m not that— i don’t sleep around, i promise I don’t”
it was a weird feeling on how your heart broke a little by how defeated he sounded at the moment. his eyes were soften, voice turned small. he was begging silently for you to look past the ‘playboy miguel’ talk from the people that barely even knows him,
he didn’t care if others don’t believe him but he cared if you did.
that’s the only approval he needed,
“i want you to see me” he shyly continued when you chose not to say anything, only looking at him with your widening eyes. “that’s all”
trust has always been something you struggle with from time to time. because it’s easier said than done.
relationships are indeed not your strongest virtue. you shared some in the past but not all of it were pretty except for one. and you haven’t even heard about that person in a long time but you did wish he was okay.
it is unbelievably difficult to put your heart upon someone else’s hands and asking them to take care of it knowing how easy it would be for them to break it along the way,
which was the reason why you avoided miguel in the first place,
to say you hate him with all of your guts and soul would probably be too much. you wouldn’t go that far. you hardly know the man.
but you were persuaded by the gossips and girl talk scattered throughout campus. how he used girls for sex, only to dump them the next day. despite gloria telling you the opposite, you refused to believe her. you were solemnly only trying to protect yourself.
yet only now the guilt was eating you alive. why didn’t you even try to find out for yourself instead of listening to a gang of plastics who love to start off disgusting rumors about others?
looking at him now just made your heart clenched and for your head tilt to the side, just so you can look at him a bit better. you wanted to look at his eyes. you wanted him to not avoid your gaze because you understood now,
more clearer than ever.
“i do. i see you, miguel” you placed a hand on top of his, gently rubbing the skin until his ruby eyes turned to you at the sudden affection,
miguel’s heart almost did a somersault at your smile. even more to the words you had chosen to say next,
“i see you, baby”
—
reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! it would make my day:)
#frat!miguel#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara blurbs#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#short one i know but i have no idea what to put in more lol
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trust fall
pairing: jackson era!joel miller x f!reader
day two of @pascalisbaby and i's joeltober: fluid exchange -> read her day two here
summary: This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nice enough.
warnings/tags: pwp!, fluid exchange (come eating/spitting), oral sex (f receiving), anal play, dirty talk, mention of unprotected piv, dom/sub dynamics, pet names (honey, sweetheart, etc), praise kink, edging
word count: 1.6k
rating: explicit! 18+ only, mdni
a/n: arguably the filthiest thing i've ever written (nervous) but wow was it great practice. thank you for reading!
main masterlist
“What a mess. Who’s gonna clean all this up, sweetheart?”
He’s thumbing at the crease of your thigh where it folds into your core, pulling against the bend so that your seam widens. You can feel him looking, each cool swing of his breath fanning over the heat at your center. The slow trickle of where he leaks out of you makes your skin tighten, shrinking uncomfortably over muscle in little welts.
Joel doesn’t take well to your lack of focus, choosing to demand your attention instead; the press of his thumb turns harder, meeting the end of his pointer to pinch. The pain is instant, but the delay from your haze makes you skip a yelp all together, straight to words like he wants.
“I’ll clean myself.”
He hums, releasing your flesh, petting the wound where it thrums, “Now how can you reach all the way down here?”
You know this game well—where he means to reduce you to less than incapable, framing it like you’ve lost your way after what he’s just done to you. He wants to act like he can help you, when in reality it’s done to service himself, only further fueling his need to be in control—a role that toes the line between offender and caretaker. He aches to relinquish you of every responsibility, even that of thought.
Joel swipes at the come that refuses to let up where it’s dripping out, making a slow show—one that only he can see and only you can feel—of gathering and pooling and reinserting it, just to watch it slip out again.
“I-I don’t know. But I need to get clean.”
He’s smiling something horrible, eyes shining when you gaze down to plead your case for assistance.
“Oh, poor thing, I know. It’s not your fault,” he dips his thumb into you before trailing up just under the bead of skin above your opening, “There’s just so much. But you’re right, we can’t have you ruining the sheets.” Joel bares his teeth again when you hiss, narrowly missing your clit when you try to maneuver your way into his hand.
You pant, barely able to piece together your cue, “How?”
“Hard to think after the way I fucked you, hm?” He brushes his free hand across the hill of your cheek, pitiful, as he shakes his head in mock disbelief, “I guess I could help you, sweetheart. Do you want that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, please.”
“There she goes. My polite girl. Same one who begged for all this mess in the first place—isn’t that right?”
You can’t bear to try and find the words, just letting your head loll to the side so you can nod without the pain of keeping your neck straight. He’s unraveling your grip thread by thread so you can become the soft, helpless thing he needs you to be.
He shoves himself down, ducks his head to be level with your cunt, the hot vent of air around his face bleeding onto you. He’s worked up—you know it from the delicate shudder in his hands, the uneven half-steps in his breathing—and while he swears he can’t, you wish he’d fuck you again. You wriggle, back flat to the bed and knees spreading instinctively.
Joel starts at the slip of skin separating your cunt from what sits beneath it, careful to catch what he couldn’t collect on the last sweep. His mouth is warm and his tongue gentle, but the breath it punches out of you is hard—furious.
You’re humming high in your throat, past the point of well-mannered, and he’s delighted, slipping the muscle between his lips inside of you, tilting his head just enough so that his nose can’t touch where you’re throbbing for him most.
You beg, “Joel. Joel, please,” rolling the knobs of your spine forcefully enough to sting, trying uselessly to make contact. He huffs, forearm mashing haphazardly against the curve of your hip, flustered.
“You don’t need it, honey. Now keep still.”
You’re full-on whining now, little pieces of sound, reedy and loud and not enough to make him feel bad, apparently.
He nestles himself back in, the wide flat of his tongue pressing hard enough to breach your hole, spooning out everything you saved for him inside you and you start to seethe, a thin film of sweat breaking out across your chest—boiling.
The hand you haven’t felt in a while returns to a different place, the tips of his pointer and middle brushing under where he’s eating you, the hole there wet with whatever continues to evade his mouth.
He circles it and you fidget, begging him for anything more, the slow working of his jaw not enough to bring you to the edge.
There’s the other half of the game—if you can’t come before he’s deemed you clean, you don’t get to at all.
A sticky curl of love swells in your belly at how familiar you are now with this routine, how far he’s come—peeling away enough of his distance to show his face, to bring you to this. This, that was a shy thing at first, set into motion by some passing remark you’d made all those months ago—that he would do anything for you if you just asked nicely enough.
Joel’s uncovered desire to see you need him, beg for him, just to make him relent in your favor, was intoxicating. In turn, he continues to make it harder every time for you both, upping the stakes after you barely manage to satisfy his last demand; narrow wins that remind you of just how much power he holds. Always sweet and comforting and protecting, even if from the severity of himself.
Your stomach clenches, trying frantically to pace your breaths, to focus on the feeling of every too-long pass that has him nudging the underside of your clit, the way his fingers tease against your asshole. He hums in warning, almost done, and you knock a fist against the bed in frustration.
He pulls away suddenly and your shoulders cave, upset by his unwarned finish, and you’re ready to apologize within an inch of your life when he pipes up.
“Am I not enough for you, honey? You liked my cock, plenty. Why can’t you do it for my mouth, too?”
“Joel. Joel, you are—you’re enough. I just– right now I need more.”
“No, you don’t. And I’m not going to tell you again. Now—” he uses the hand not already playing with you to dig into the meat of your thigh, nails drawn, maybe a little upset by how many words you’ve managed despite his ministrations, “Make me happy.”
He sways low again, the return of his mouth against-underneath-inside of you making your hands curl, a warm buzz floating up through your legs and forearms to meet together in the middle. He’s fervent, determined to prove you wrong now that you’ve challenged his ability and you’re squealing, so light-headed from the effort to breathe that you’re close to stopping all together.
Joel feeds his lip between his teeth against you reflexively, like he’s trying to hold himself back for a moment, and the idea that he’s gearing up for a long night makes you heave.
He tries to hide his tell, taking the quickest pause to spit onto his fingers, prodding at your asshole to divert your attention, hardly sliding in as to not give you more than you’ve earned, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, now. Haven’t worked for much of anything yet.”
“But–”
“Show me you can be good, first. Shouldn’t be so hard for you, honey, c’mon.” He inches closer once more, breathing out against you, alternating between little puffs of cold exhales and firm pants of hot air.
You writhe, so pent up you feel restricted by your own body, like climbing out from a pool fully-clothed—heavy and sopping and always tipping back with resistance. Your face is on fire, fingers twisting to try and take the brunt of your need to move.
Joel is ecstatic—you can hear the wet slide of his grin—and you’re right at the cusp of giving in when he breaks the gap, hot mouth latching onto your clit and you’re gone. You can feel it spread the length of your core first, filling out quickly to everywhere else and you jolt, legs snapping together fast enough that your knees knock above his head.
He repositions his hands, squeezing between them to pry you open. You wedge a wrist behind you, trying to lift yourself in an effort to stop him but when you peer down, the look on his face is serene, pleading. An exercise in trust maybe—that he’s acquainted enough with your body to know your limit.
You let yourself rest again and inhale deep, letting him work you down to a stop, the feeling of overstimulation falling into a wash of fuzzy static . Only after you unfold does Joel remove himself, pressing light kisses to the peak of your hip bone on his way up—proud.
He leans over your torso, his chest parallel, the damp rub of your skin setting your heart off as you breathe in tandem. Selfishly, you scrabble a bit, wanting desperately to have more claim on his body.
“Hey, hey. Shh. No need to do all that. I’m right here for you.” Joel gathers up your palm between his fingers, sliding your limp knuckles over his cheeks, the little curve of his lip. A moment passes and you reclaim ownership of it, caressing the underside of his jaw faintly.
“Was I good?” you whisper.
“So good. See, I knew you could do it.”
He nudges at the band of rib under your breast, “Maybe even a little too good—looking very empty now, sweetheart. What do you think we oughta do about that?”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller/reader#kinktober#kinktober 2023
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the deal - part 3/3 (*) [harry styles au]
//
part one, part two
summary: in which harry and claire continue to fight for custody of atlas while also attempting to take steps in their own relationship
word count: 12,756
content warning: custody battle! heavy topics of child neglect, physical/emotional abuse, mentions of drug use, etc. smut!!
___________________________________________
“Claire?” Harry softly asked, waiting outside the door she locked herself into.
His eyes softly closed, forehead resting against the wood as he heard retching and vomiting from the other side. Harry wore a dress shirt and slacks, dressing up for court even if he wasn’t being heard or if the judge would hardly look at him.
But he wanted to be here for Claire, even if she insisted she was fine coming on her own.
Seeing her rush into the restrooms before the hearing even started, was enough proof to Harry that she was most definitely not fine.
“Babe?” He checked again, breathing out the word in defeat as there was silence from the other end. He heard her slightly coughing and then he heard the flushing of the toilet before Claire unlocked the door, wiping her eyes and straightening out her blouse.
Her eyes were rimmed red and the bags underneath them seemed to have darkened a shade. She fixed the clip in her hair while sniffling, “Sorry.” She muttered, walking past Harry and towards the sinks to wash her hands and rinse her mouth a bit.
Harry looked at her through the mirror as he slipped a gentle hand to her lower back, “‘S okay. You don’t have to apologize.”
Even Atlas and Finn had noticed this morning, that something was up. Tensions in the house were at an all time high any time Claire was supposed to head to court and face Evan. It wasn’t the first time, but him and his lawyer always found ways to postpone or buy themselves time.
And in the meantime, Claire and Evan had to stick to what the court told them - which was that Atlas spent at least six hours at his father’s house every other Saturday. Claire always dreaded dropping him off but insisted walking him up to the door. Evan never looked good. He always had a sick, smug smile on his lips. He wasn’t doing this for Atlas, he was just doing it to get a rise out of her.
She remembered crying in Harry’s car the last time because once Claire had hugged Atlas goodbye and he went inside, Evan said to her that he’d do everything he could to stay in control of her life before slamming the door.
After a good cry, it was time to convince Harry to not go knocking on his door and then punch his teeth out. But Harry’s hands had tightly gripped the steering wheel as they drove home in silence, and both him and Claire weren’t themselves in those six hours.
Evenings were then spent with Atlas cuddling up to both of them, even Finn. He regressed to being a little baby on those days, sucking his thumb and needing a soft scalp massage before he requested for Harry to carry him to bed and then Harry and Claire both tucked him in.
He usually had nightmares those nights, but not as bad as the nights before he was supposed to be at Evan’s. Atlas never said much about the time spent at his father’s house, and Claire and Harry didn’t pry.
And so months went on, and here she was again. With fresh hope that the judge would make a conscious decision to cut ties between Atlas and his father. That they could finally see the effect it had on Atlas and that Evan didn’t give a single fuck about his son.
“I love you.” Harry murmured from behind her, finally pulling Claire into his chest and she allowed him. Claire exhaled into his neck, pinching her eyes shut to keep more tears from falling out. Harry’s arms felt like a warm blanket surrounding her, and she was catapulted into memories of comfort and warmth as she leaned against him. And she let herself lean against him - which was almost the biggest challenge of all.
“I love y-you too.” She croaked out, sniffling. Harry kissed her temple, “And I’m so proud of you. Atlas will remember this forever, the way you fought for him. I promise.”
Claire quickly nodded, “Yeah.” She agreed, trying to remember what she was doing this for. Or who she was doing this for. Future Atlas. To give him peace. To know she did everything in her power to make him happy and give him a brighter future.
“We have to go in now,” Harry’s heart sank a bit as he pulled Claire back a bit and cupped her cheeks, “sorry.” He murmured. Claire swallowed and nodded, “Okay. Do you have gum?”
“Yeah.” He patted his pockets and pulled out a packet of gum, “Here. Your breath doesn’t smell, by the way.” He reassured her in a small joke. Claire huffed out a humourless chuckle and popped the gum in her mouth. Lacing their fingers together, Harry and Claire exited the ladies rooms to head to where they were supposed to be.
“There you are.” Timothy - their lawyer - exhaled a breath of relief. He was the new lawyer Claire had been working with ever since she started dating Harry. She only admitted it to herself with pink cheeks, but Timothy was the kind of lawyer she was unable to afford with her own money.
Harry didn’t mind spending his own money on help for Claire or Atlas. They were his family, and no length was too far for him to go to, to ensure their safety and happiness. Besides, he had more money than he could spend after working full-time after Astrid’s departure and hardly having a social life.
Claire’s stubbornness made her reluctant to always accept Harry’s financial help, but it was for the greater good.
“Sorry.” Claire cleared her throat, “I wasn’t feeling too well.”
“Nervous?” Timothy checked and Claire nodded, holding onto Harry’s hand who gave her a gentle squeeze, “Mhm.”
Timothy rested a hand on her shoulder, “We’re doing good, Claire. We have accusations for a lot of things, and Evan is unable to give a decent response to all of them.” He tried to soothe her.
Claire just swallowed thickly and nodded, “Yeah.” She sighed.
The next twenty minutes were pure hell for Claire once more. She went into the courtroom, feeling Harry’s presence behind her as the judge stared at both her and Evan, and their lawyers.
Claire felt fidgety the entire time, but trusted Timothy, who did a splendid job. Of course, Evan and his lawyer played it just as dirty and kept bringing up Claire’s past in drug use and how she was really only back on track ever since being with Harry. How she had to split her attention between Atlas and Finn and how that caused her to not be fully there for their son.
Claire saw red at that and jumped up her feet, briskly turning towards Evan and firing at him, asking him if he even knew Atlas’ birthday.
The judges’ brows had raised high when Evan shamefully spoke out the wrong date.
But, in true Evan-fashion, he did buy himself more time to get his life on track.
A social inquiry.
His lawyer suggested it and the judge blindly agreed. Tears prickled in Claire’s eyes when she realized what it meant. More months of this. More court dates, more conversations, a social worker coming to their house to talk to her, Harry and Atlas.
Just to verify what everyone actually already knew.
Claire felt defeated when Harry drove them home, his hand on her thigh and the music turned down.
“It’s gonna be okay.” He murmured once the engine was turned off and they were in the driveway of the house. Claire turned her head to face him, offering him a faint smile as she nodded, “I know. Thank you.”
Harry felt a bit stupid, unsure of what the right thing to say was. There weren’t really any good things to say to a mother in this position. And Claire was such a damn good mother, she didn’t deserve any of this.
Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “I love you.” He repeated.
Claire nodded again as her bottom lip wobbled, “I love you too, Harry.”
They stayed in silence in the car for a bit until heading inside. The boys were at school and they had a few hours to themselves. Claire did her usual routine after going to court, changing into gym clothes to go on a long run. Harry on the other hand, threw himself into work.
He sat at his desk, drawing and erasing and drawing and erasing as he got a job to design a new office building for a bank.
He was hunched over, a concentrated frown on his face when Claire walked back in, sweat pearling at her hairline and her eyes still hollow and tired. She panted out after her run, heading into the kitchen for water and to do some stretching.
Harry leaned against the doorpost, watching her as she chugged down water and used the back of her hand to wipe her forehead. She felt his presence behind her and turned around, leaning against the countertop, “Hey.”
“Hey.” Harry exhaled, “Do you - uh… do you want to shower together? Before the boys get home?”
Claire’s stomach dropped a bit. She knew the tone of his voice and she knew what he meant. Harry meant to say they weren’t themselves right now and needed some comfort and closeness within each other to be there for the boys when they came home in a bit. And he was right.
Claire nodded, “That sounds good. Are you finishing up or can we go now?”
“Now is good.” Harry smiled. Him and Claire headed up to their bathroom, stripping themselves of their clothes before hopping into the cabin. Harry took the time in soothing Claire. He washed her hair and soaped her in, hugging her close to his chest and she allowed him to wrap her up and comfort her.
She pushed up her toes to kiss him deeply, expressing her gratitude for his endless patience without using words. Because she didn’t know how. She didn’t know what to say to explain how he made her feel, or what he did for her.
“Claire - wait.” Harry breathed when her hand closed around his semi hard length, gently pumping up and down. She moaned against his lips, “No, let me… i want to.” She reassured him. Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly and he leaned back against the tiled wall, swallowing, “I’m not trying to be a dick.” He defended his erection and Claire nodded in understanding. Harry swallowed again, “‘S just because I’m close to you.”
“I know. It’s okay.” She smiled slightly. Harry didn’t want to ruin the moment. He couldn’t help getting hard when he saw Claire naked with wet drops running down her smooth skin. He knew this wasn’t really the time or place and he hadn’t expected her to act upon it, but she did and she wanted to.
Harry usually got hard whenever they showered together. It didn’t mean at all that it always turned to this. His head thudded back with a small whimper when Claire sunk down to her knees, water cascading down her back as she took him in her mouth. Harry’s hands balled into fists as he panted out, “Shit - babe…” His hand involuntary found the back of her neck, giving a thankful squeeze when she sucked him off.
Claire took him deep, her tongue salaciously running over his shaft and feeling the veins pulsing against her hollowed-out cheeks. She hummed around him, revelling in the feeling of his heavy cock pushing in her throat as she fought her gag-reflex to deepthroat him. Harry whined out, taking a fistful of her hair as he arched slightly and pushed his hips forward to thrust into her mouth.
“Fuck,” He gasped, “fuck - fuck. C’mere - stop, c’mere.” He yanked her hair, making Claire yelp slightly as she popped off of him suddenly. She coughed slightly as Harry helped her up, supporting Claire who felt woozy on her legs.
“Can I?” Harry spoke against her lips, pushing her against the opposite wall while grabbing her thighs to lift her up. Claire hardly had time to nod as her legs locked around his hips and Harry slipped inside of her. He grunted, forehead dropping to her shoulder as he pressed his lips into her collarbone and Claire moaned at the feeling of him inside of her.
Her hand tightly grabbed his wet hair as Harry fucked into her. Slow yet sharp and deep. She loved it when he took her like this - affectionate and loving yet mindblowingly good. They were engulfed by steam, and Claire admired the bulging of Harry’s biceps as he seemingly effortlessly kept her lifted up.
“So good.” Claire squeaked when his tip brushed her g-spot and the coil in her tummy tightened. She brushed his hair away and they breathily kissed as Harry sped up a bit, “Please - cum…” He groaned, “I need you to cum.”
Claire nodded as she bucked her hips back, “Uh-h-huh, almost there.” She panted. Only a minute later, both were panting and spent. Harry’s softening cock pulsed between her walls as he kept her up for a bit until gently letting her down. He slipped out of her and Claire held his arms for a bit of balance before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and deeply kissed him.
“Love of my life.” She smiled against his lips and Harry chuckled, immediately feeling how much lighter the mood had become. Sex was important to them to feel close to one another. They had to pick their moments, which is why something practical - like showering or cooking - could turn into fucking in no time.
The found ways, knowing how detrimental it was to their relationship to feel the physical comfort of the other. Claire hummed as they kissed and Harry nuzzled his nose with hers while running his hands up and down her naked back, “Are you ovulating?” He whispered.
Claire bit her lip and shook her head, “No - uh… this was just for fun.”
“Right.” Harry chuckled, giving her ass a small pinch, “well, it was definitely fun.”
Four months now they had been trying. Actively. Not like before, not leaving it up to the universe, but really tracking her period and trying. Every month she took a pregnancy test and so far - every month it came back negative.
It was fine, for now. Their spirits weren’t broken down. So much was happening with Atlas and Evan too, that Claire didn’t necessarily mind. She somehow felt like she wouldn’t be able to feel joyous about a pregnancy with everything looming over her head.
And Claire didn’t know this, but it was also the reason Harry hadn’t proposed yet.
When he asked her to marry him, he wanted it to be just them. Him, Claire, Finn and Atlas. No Evan.
He soothed himself with the idea that they had time. They had so much fucking time to spend with one another. A lifetime. And perhaps it was nicer if the boys were a bit older, so they could really be a part of the wedding and give their blessing.
“My sweet,” Harry murmured with a smile on his lips, “I adore you.”
Claire giggled and the sound made Harry’s heart skip ten beats. She kissed his lips once more, “I adore you more. Just not your cum running down my leg. Scoot over a bit, I need the stream.” And playful Claire was back. Harry threw his head back in a laugh when she was back to her witty, sarcastic self.
He loved her like that. She was most herself like that. They waddled back a few steps until the water took care of Harry’s orgasm and then exited the shower.
“Wanna pick up the boys together?” Harry suggested. Claire puckered her lips, “You can go, I’ll get started on dinner. That way I won’t have to be in the kitchen too much tonight.”
Harry fought the amused smile on his lips and exhaled a chuckling breath, “Let’s do it the other way around. You pick them up, I’ll cook.”
“Hey, my cooking is not that bad.”
“No, but mine is better.” Harry stuck out his tongue and Claire playfully swatted his chest, “Ass. I’ll see you in a bit.” She pushed up her toes for a quick kiss. Her hair was wet and laying down her back as she wore jeans and a hoodie. Snatching Harry’s keys off of the table, she unlocked the Tesla to pick up Finn and Atlas.
In the presence of both boys, Claire quickly forgot all about what today had been so far. Atlas and Finn were laughing and joking in the backseat, cracking Claire up at what they all said. They brought out the best in each other and it was incredible to see.
Much like Harry and Claire’s dynamic, Finn tamed Atlas a bit while Atlas brought out Finn’s - hidden - wild side. Finn was the calm and Atlas was the storm. Much like Harry being the calm and Claire being the storm.
“Claire bear, can you help me with my shoes?” Finn lisped a little and Claire fought the rolling of her eyes. She could hear Harry laughing from the kitchen and Claire crouched down to undo his laces, “Finnigan, I love it when you call me Claire bear except that I don’t.” She chuckled. Finn frowned in confusion and Claire’s heart melted at his expression, so she just quickly kissed his forehead, “Never mind. I love you.”
“I love you too, mama.”
Claire melted more. Finn was experimenting with different nicknames for her. Both Harry and Claire had made it clear to him that he was in no way obligated to call her mum. But Finn wanted to. Besides that, Harry also taught him the horrendous Claire bear nickname and she always silently gagged upon hearing it.
Harry thought it was absolutely hilarious.
“That’s my reward for blowing you in the shower?” She hushed the whisper while being with Harry in the kitchen, the boys in the living room. Harry stirred the food and bit his lip to fight his beaming grin. Cocking up an eyebrow, he dipped his head for a chaste kiss, “Your reward was an orgasm, you little brat.”
Claire childishly stuck out her tongue and went through the boys’ backpacks of the day and clearing out their lunchboxes.
Yet Claire dreaded the evening. She wanted to be transparent with Atlas about today and about his father, so while Harry tucked Finn in later that night, she sat on Atlas’ bed.
He was cuddled into his side as they read a book together and eventually Claire closed it, “Can I talk to you?” She ran her fingers through his shaggy blonde hair - which was darkening just a little bit as he aged.
Atlas looked up to her and nodded, “Yes.” Somehow by the tone of her voice and the way she asked him, he sensed what the topic would be.
Claire shifted a bit, nibbling her lip, “I saw your daddy today.”
Atlas’ expression dropped a bit and Claire continued, “You know I see him sometimes, right? In that big building? With the judge?”
“Who’s the judge again?”
“The judge is a very important person who makes very important decisions. Sometimes your daddy and I have to go see the judge. The judge asks us how you are and if you’re happy with mum and happy with dad.” Claire tried to explain.
Atlas nodded slowly, “And what do you say?”
“I tell her you’re happy here.” She shrugged before continuing to play with his hair, “Are you? Happy?”
“Yes.” Atlas smiled, cuddling further into Claire - who already got tears in her eyes. She swallowed thickly, “With me and Finn and daddy Harry?”
“Yes!” Atlas spoke with more enthusiasm and Claire sniffled once before cupping his cheek, “That’s all I want, bubby. You know I’d do everything to make you happy, right? I love you so much. More than anything or anyone.”
Atlas studied her face for a bit, “More than daddy Harry?”
“More than daddy Harry.” Claire nodded without missing a beat. Atlas didn’t seem particularly relieved or alarmed at her answer, but just nodded. Claire took a breath, “And then the judge asks the same question to your daddy. She asks daddy if you’re happy there.”
“And what does he say?” Atlas murmured. Claire kept the wobbling of her lip under control, “Daddy says you’re happy there.”
Atlas frowned, “I’m not.”
“I know.” She whispered. Atlas pressed his lips together, “How long do I still have to go?”
“As long as the judge tells us.” Claire explained and Atlas tilted his head to the side, “But how? I don’t know this juds.”
“Judge.” Claire softly corrected him and Atlas exhaled a breath, “Judge.” He tried to repeat, but it was a difficult word for him to pronounce. Claire’s heart shattered when she was once more reminded of Atlas’ young age. He was supposed to be young and free and careless. But he wasn’t. Instead, he knew his mum and dad were fighting and there were two groups of people who claimed to want the best for him. He knew of the judge. He was too young for this. He had seen too much, heard too much.
Atlas looked at her through big eyes, “How long do I still have to go, mummy?” He repeated in a watery voice, “Why can’t I just stay here with you and daddy Harry and Finn?” He clung to her and Claire hastily wiped her tears, “I know, bub. I know. I love you so much.” She repeated.
“I love you.” Atlas murmured, “I don’t want to go anymore. I don’t like it.”
“I know.” Claire’s voice cracked and she blinked rapidly to keep from crying too much. Pulling Atlas into her chest, her face scrunched up as she silently cried, out of sight for him. “You understand that I’m trying?” She whispered, “Me and daddy Harry are trying so hard for you, to keep you here and safe and happy. With us.”
“I understand.” Atlas nodded.
“Good boy.” Claire kissed the top of his head. She sniffled a few times before taking a breath, “So today daddy and I had to go back to see the judge. And the judge said she’s going to send someone here.”
Atlas didn’t respond, and Claire could imagine him frowning in confusion. She closed her eyes, “Someone is going to come here. A nice person, who just wants to talk to you a little bit. I won’t be there for that.” She gently explained, “They’ll want to sit with you and they’ll ask you a few questions. And you can tell them whatever you want, okay? There’s no need to be scared or to be nervous. They just want to know how you’re doing.”
It was silent for a moment before Atlas spoke, “When?”
“I don’t know yet.” Claire admitted, “It might be a while. Do you have any questions?”
Atlas flicked his eyes up, and Claire saw a range of emotions in them. “Can I sleep in the big bed tonight?”
Claire raised her brows and clearly hesitated, “Y-You want to sleep in the big bed?” She clarified. Atlas quickly nodded, “Mhm. For when I have a nightmare.”
“Bub.” She whispered, rocking him back and forth a little, “But you’re a big boy, aren’t you? Big boys sleep in their own beds.” She tried but Atlas whined a bit and crawled closer into her. Claire felt a fresh wave of tears running down her cheeks and she cleared her throat, “Can you wait just a minute? I’m going to have a chat with daddy Harry first.” She whispered.
Atlas just nodded and cuddled his stuffed animal as Claire quickly turned around and rushed out of the room. She was barely in the hallway when she pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling the deep sob and the feeling of nausea. She could throw up all over again when imagined the fear running through her little boy.
Claire’s legs could hardly keep her up and she slid down the wall next to Atlas’ closed door. Just thinking of him in his bed, clutching his stuffed animal that Harry gave him because he craved comfort so much.
“Hey,” Harry whispered, worry apparent on his face when he hurried over to where Claire was. He just tucked Finn and closed his door after reading him a bedtime story. Harry’s hands cupped Claire’s cheeks, “Babe - what’s wrong?” He urgently whispered, attempting not to alert their boys.
“A-Atlas.” Claire sobbed, feeling the burning in her chest, “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“Oh - shh.” Harry crooned, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He slipped an arm around Claire’s waist and used his might to pull her up to a standing position. She clung to him and Harry smoothed his hand over her hair, “‘S okay, baby.” He shushed softly.
Claire sniffled, “He asked to sleep in our bed.”
“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire nodded, “Mhm. It’s so bad, Harry.”
He stroked her hair again, “What did you say?”
“Nothing.” Claire whimpered, “Not yet. W-Wanted to talk to you first.”
Harry exhaled, “Babe, if he’s begging to sleep with us… we should let him, right?”
“Mhm. I think so too. But I didn’t want to decide without you.”
Harry nodded, “It’s okay. I’ll go carry him to our bed.”
“Okay.” Claire nodded, wiping her eyes, “I’m gonna just freshen up a bit, don’t want Atlas to see me like this.”
Harry cupped her cheeks and kissed her nose, “Alright. You go ahead, I’ll be right there with him.”
Claire nodded and they parted ways as Harry slowly opened up Atlas’ bedroom door. He sat in his bed like a small boy, clutching his stuffed giraffe that Harry gifted him. The sight was heartbreaking. Harry was slow as he walked up to him, “Hey, bubby. Mum says you’d like to sleep in our bed tonight?”
“Yeah.” Atlas nodded and Harry offered him a small smile, “Okay. Want me to carry you?”
Atlas just lifted up an arm, a silent invitation for Harry to break his back and pick up the seven year-old. Atlas was way too big to be picked up like this, but Harry humored him. He patted his back as he turned down the lights in Atlas’ room and carried him through the hall. He made a quick stop at Finn’s door - not wanting him to feel left out.
Finn wasn’t asleep yet and blinked his eyes open as Harry stood in the doorway, “Hi, bud. Sleepover tonight?” He questioned. Finn frowned, “But it’s not a Friday or Saturday.”
“I know.” Harry nodded, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But Atlas is sleeping in the big bed tonight.”
Atlas and Finn shared a look, and Finn nodded, grabbing his own baby blanket before he followed behind Harry and Atlas. Harry was gentle when he laid Atlas down - mostly on Claire’s side. He immediately sunk into the pillow she usually rested on and Finn was exceptionally gentle too.
“They’re both in bed.” Harry murmured as he joined Claire in the bathroom. She was blowing her nose and doing some skincare, nodding, “Finn too?”
“Mhm.” Harry grabbed his toothbrush while looking at Claire in the mirror. She was lost in thought and he decided to leave it at that for tonight.
The family of four all fell asleep in the same bed, with Harry and Claire each cuddling up to their sons to provide them the comfort they apparently craved.
***
Once May rolled in, Claire eventually got the letter. Her heart slammed in her throat when she recognized the letters from court, and she exhaled a slight sigh of relief when it turned out to just be her invitation to go talk to the social worker in regards to the social inquiry.
Claire called immediately to lock in an appointment. The social worker turned out to be a woman named Nancy. She sounded friendly and warm on the phone, immediately soothing Claire’s worries a little bit. Nancy informed her that in that first talk, it was supposed to be just Claire. She felt a bit deflated that she wasn’t allowed to bring Harry - but also understood.
This social inquiry was mostly between her and Evan, surrounding Atlas. They were his biological parents. Harry was a big part of his life, and Nancy assured Claire that she’d eventually also include Harry and talk to him, as she would with Otis and perhaps Finn if he wanted to.
Claire felt relieved that she could go in a few days later, and she gave herself a peptalk in the mirror before driving down to the courthouse to meet with Nancy.
Claire had to admit she was between jobs and had a very free schedule. Ever since being with Harry, she gave up her Burger King-job and did nothing for a while but adapt to their new reality. With the absence of rent and the help of Harry, there were no financial worries for the first time in her life.
Yet Claire grew bored and was on the lookout for something. Maybe something administrative, she wasn’t sure yet. She helped Harry sometimes with his accounting and answered his emails or his calls from time to time. Sometimes she wondered how she did it all those years, being a single parent to Atlas and doing a fulltime job and the household.
Sometimes her days were simply filled doing laundry, going grocery shopping and cleaning the house. Until Evan called her a gold digger and it stung. And she hoped it wouldn’t be used against her in court.
“Ms. Carter?” A woman smiled at her as Claire sat waiting in one of the chairs. She quickly got up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before offering her hand, “Yes, I’m Claire.” She breathed.
“Nancy.” The woman nodded, “Nice to meet you. Not too much traffic coming here?” They walked the long hallways together and Claire shook her head, “No, it was okay.”
Nancy smiled, “It’s just through here. You can sit wherever you’d like.”
Claire glanced around the room, which was clearly decorated for conversations with children. It had a small, low table in the corner with kid’s chairs, a ton of toys and stuffed animals and lots of children’s books.
“This is our kid’s space.” Nancy explained, “When we talk to kids, it’s in this room. I booked it for our conversation too because it was the only available room.”
Claire slowly nodded, “I see.” Her lips then curled up into a small smile, “Atlas has this book too.” She pointed to one.
“Really?” Nancy smiled, “It’s usually a big hit.”
“Mhm. He really likes it.” She then shrugged off her coat and took a seat in one of the chairs, fiddling with her fingers.
“Are you nervous?” Nancy checked, a friendly smile on her face. Claire exhaled, “Honestly, yes. A little bit. It’s all quite new and I’m not sure what to expect.”
“That’s understandable.” Nancy nodded, “So I’m a social worker, and I work for the family justice court.” She began, “Sometimes the judge asks us to do a social inquiry in certain cases, when it’s too difficult to make a decision and the judge isn’t sure what’s left or right anymore. That’s where we come in. We take a few steps with both mum and dad, and I’d also like to see Atlas once or twice. We contact the school and such to get a broad view on who Atlas is as a child, mostly in relation to his parents, so that’s you and Evan. And the custody arrangement.”
Claire’s chest clenched a bit and she swallowed before nodding, “So… you decide what happens to Atlas then?”
“I don’t.” Nancy shook her head, “I take these steps and I basically make the puzzle surrounding Atlas. I talk to him and also pull information from literature and investigation, knowing what works best for children his age and what their needs are. Then I write a report to the judge, but the final decision is always with the judge.”
“Right.” Claire slowly nodded.
Nancy shot her a smile, “I’d also like to do a house visit, just to see what Atlas’ environment is. I do these same steps with dad.” She explained.
“Okay.” Claire breathed and Nancy nodded, “So basically what I’ll do with you - and the father - is that we… talk. Mostly about Atlas and how we can get out of the current rut and move forward towards something that best fits him.”
“That’s all I want.” Claire swallowed, nodding, “It’s been so…” She exhaled, “it’s been such a nightmare.” She already felt the lump in her throat and swallowed thickly, “Sorry, I really don’t mean to cry after only a minute.”
“That’s okay.” Nancy encouraged her, “I understand that this is an emotional time. You try to do what’s best for your little boy, I’m sure.”
Claire nodded fiercely, “I-I do. I definitely do.”
“Are you okay with us starting from the beginning? How did you and Evan meet, how long were you together and such?”
And so Claire took a breath and told her story. Not too many details, because Nancy also didn’t ask for those. Just in broad lines how she and Evan met, how they got together, how their relationship went - including all the ups and downs. How Claire got pregnant and told him, and how horrifying that pregnancy was without his support and with her dependance on drugs.
How she eventually got away and how the terrors began. How he hit her, stalked her, threatened her and made her life a living hell for the past seven years.
Claire lit up once Nancy asked her about Atlas. Claire used hand-gestures to describe what kind of child Atlas is and how he’s wild and adventurous, but also so snuggly. She explained how she felt him regress whenever he was around Evan, and how he had nightmares and asked to sleep in her bed.
Nancy nodded along and took notes of everything Claire explained. The conversation turned towards Harry and Finn and their blended family. Claire smiled when she spoke of the bond Harry and Atlas had, and how Nancy would certainly see that if she came to visit them at the house.
“Have you ever considered taking Atlas to therapy?” Nancy questioned curiously. Claire nibbled her lip and slowly shook her head, “I actually haven’t. I mean… I’m not sure if he’d benefit from it. Isn’t he too young?”
“From what you explained, he sounds like a bright young man.” Nancy smiled, “And it’d be a child therapist, of course. Someone who’s trained to work with children, and maybe even specifically surrounding the topic of divorce and living in two seperate houses. Is he a creative kid?”
“Like drawing and stuff?” Claire questioned, “Not really. He is a good talker though. He’s… inquisitive, I’d say. He asks me a lot and often wants Harry to explain things very in depth.”
Nancy nodded, “Did you tell him what you were doing today?”
“No.” Claire shook her head. When I came back from court last time, I explained to him what was going to happen. He asked a few questions and he knows you will come to the house to talk to him. He’s not too nervous, he says. But… well - that night, he asked to sleep in our bed.”
Nancy’s eyes turned sympathetic and Claire lowered her gaze. Silence fell over the room a little bit and Claire eventually took a breath, “I just don’t understand why he keeps getting chances.” She murmured, “He’s disappointed Atlas so many times. He’s never been there for him, or for us. I did it all by myself. I take full responsibility for the way Atlas is today, because Evan didn’t raise him. I-I just don’t get how many mistakes he has to make, or how bad it has to be for something to finally be done.” She ended while shrugging her shoulders.
“I’ve been in hospital a handful of times because of him, in the year and a half alone. Atlas saw it all. That’s… that’s not okay for a seven year old.”
“It’s not.” Nancy agreed.
After nearly two hours, they wrapped it up. Nancy would be in touch after she also managed to speak to Evan to hear his side of the story. Claire had pressed her lips together to keep herself from talking, because she was about to warn Nancy that all he’d say are lies. But of course, Nancy was supposed to be neutral and she couldn’t pick sides - so Claire just kept her mouth shut.
Going home, she sat thinking in the car. Thinking of Atlas, and thinking of the life choices she made. Losing her family and her parent’s support because she was with Evan. She hated him, and she regretted him every single day of her life.
But then she looked at Atlas, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. She’d take the pain times ten if it meant making him happy and carefree. Claire was always overcome with such a pure love, one that she felt like she could hardly explain. She was glad that Harry understood, because he felt the same towards Finn.
And sometimes, Claire took a little step back to realize how fucking lucky she was.
And she didn’t realize it yet, but life was about to get a little luckier.
***
Harry whistled once he locked the car.
His sunglasses sat low on the bridge of his nose and he just couldn’t wait to get inside and change into something more comfortable. Even if it was May, it was insanely warm. He wore slacks for this business meeting with the headhunters of his latest project, but his slacks were as uncomfortable as they could be.
“Babe?” He called out once he opened up the front door. Harry was met with silence but glanced down, seeing the shoes strewn by the front door with the absence of Claire’s favourite slippers.
She only wore them at home, and it was a sign to him that she was home.
He kept whistling the same tune softly, kicking off his own dress shoes before putting his briefcase down on the dining table. Peaking into the kitchen, his face lit up when he saw Claire at the stove.
Her head flicked to the side, a bright smile immediately appearing on her face, “Hey!” She excitedly smiled, and Harry was drawn to her like a magnet. His hands found her hips as he kissed her, humming. The scent of Claire’s famous pancakes entered his nose and he melted into a puddle of comfort.
He was home.
“How was your meeting?” Claire questioned, hair up in a lazy ponytail and wearing one of Harry’s aprons that said chef Styles at the front, embroidered in elegant gold. Harry dipped his finger in the pancake batter, humming, “Quite good. They like my ideas so far. They did want me to rethink the columns though.”
“No, really?! We sat hours thinking about those god damn columns.” Claire complained and Harry chuckled, licking off his finger, “I know. But hey, they pay my bills so… I’ll fuckin’ rethink their columns.”
Claire chuckled at Harry’s cursing - something he really only did when he was done with someone’s shit or when the kids weren’t home.
Her heart hammered in her chest when she kept her back to him, clearing her throat, “Hey - uh… can you get me a spoon?”
“Spoon.” Harry nodded, pushing himself off the counter, “Sure.”
He whistled again, yet it abruptly stopped when he opened up the cutlery drawer.
He saw no spoons, forks or knives. The drawer had been cleared out and instead Harry saw a little dark green romper in the drawer. And a pregnancy test next to it.
“Wh-” He cut himself off with a sharp gasp, tears blurring his eyes when he felt like his heart stopped. His legs wobbled when he felt the sharp rush to his head. He briskly turned around, and Claire’s smile grew when she saw the shock written all over his face.
She sheepishly leaned against the counter behind her, the stove turned off in a break from making pancakes.
“Surprise.” She whispered with a smile.
Harry panted out, as if he had just ran a marathon, “Y-You’re pregnant?” His voice cracked.
“Yes.” Claire giggled and Harry threw his head back, pumping his fists, “You’re pregnant!” He shouted.
“Harry!” Claire giggled as he ran up to her and scooped her up. Claire’s ponytail flew around as he spun her, hands underneath her thighs and smiling into her neck. Harry then sat her down on the countertop, breathing heavily as his eyes watered and his cheeks hurt from smiling, “Please, tell me I’m not dreaming.”
Claire lovingly cupped his cheeks, “You’re not dreaming, my love.” She smiled, “We’re having a baby.”
“Shit.” Harry’s voice broke as he buried his face into her neck, hugging her tightly to his chest. Claire soothed him, understanding the range of emotions running through Harry. They had been wanting this for quite some time.
She played with the hair in the nape of his neck as Harry tried to come to terms with the new information.
He pulled back with watery eyes and Claire giggled, “You’re crying.” She teased and he huffed out a chuckle, “Shut up.” He grabbed the back of her neck to bring her in for a deep kiss. They smiled into one another as Harry touched Claire in every way he could.
“I’m so happy.” He whispered, “You make me so happy. You make me so happy.” He repeated the words, kissing around Claire’s face until she shook with giggles and Harry could hardly breathe anymore.
“How long?” He breathed. Claire nibbled her lip, “Just a few weeks. I’m not sure. I took a few tests today, they all came back positive. I-I couldn’t wait to tell you.” She spoke. She realized they still weren’t a billion percent sure. They hadn’t been to the doctor’s and Claire hadn’t gotten any blood work done. But the six tests she peed on all told her the same answer.
A very clear line that indicated she was pregnant. No more than a couple of weeks.
“I love you.” Harry murmured, “So much. You’re giving me my dream.” He cried more and Claire giggled, making slight fun of him as Harry hid in her neck and held her tightly. Claire couldn’t wipe the bright smile off of her face.
She had been throwing up a few times lately. Claire thought it was stress - but much like every month she decided to take a pregnancy test today. She didn’t even expect it to come out positive. But then there it was.
And now they were here. On cloud nine.
“D-Do we tell the boys?” Harry sniffled, wiping underneath his eyes once he unhooked himself from Claire. She couldn’t even respond before he deeply kissed her. Claire leaned back into the wall as Harry slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, shoving every single emotion he felt into the kiss to leave her dizzy and breathless.
“H-” She tried but he groaned, kissing her again, “I want you.” He panted.
Claire raised her brows, “Wh- now?” She asked in shock. Harry nodded eagerly, “Mhm. We’ve got time right?” He already dragged her to the edge of the countertop to pick her up underneath her thighs again.
“Uh - yeah, like an hour - Harry, wait.” Claire giggled when he carried her up the stairs, the apron still on her body. Claire smiled while Harry kicked open the door of their bedroom and then used his foot to close it again.
Even though he couldn’t wait to make her his and celebrate this moment by being so close to her, he was gentle when laying her down. Claire bit her lip to fight her smile as he seemingly tried to take it slow and easy, but the second he was on top of her and they met in a searing kiss - that all flew out the window.
The apron landed on the floor, quickly followed by their other clothes. Claire could hardly keep up with his pace but every thought she ever had left her brain when she felt his tongue between her thighs.
“Oh…” Claire exhaled, melting into the bedding and tipping her head back with a soft gasp when Harry licked into her. His fingers kept her open and he played with her clit like only he could, keeping his eyes closed as he revelled in her taste.
Claire’s eyes rolled back when he sucked on her, “Harry…” She moaned, “oh my god.” Her hand found his curls, pulling him closer into her as she fought to keep her lips still. Harry’s fingers joined, sinking inside her easily and dragging up her front wall until Claire shuddered and orgasmed.
But if she thought that was the end of it, she was deeply mistaken. After four orgasms total, Claire could hardly keep her eyes open. She laid spent on the bedding with Harry slotted in between her legs, dick inside of her.
He had her in every position imaginable, from rolling her on her tummy and pulling her hips up to take her from behind, to assisting her in riding him and then slipping inside her as they spooned - he always preferred to end in missionary.
Harry hunched over her, breathing into her neck and inhaling her scent as Claire’s pussy pulsed around his aching cock, milking him of everything he could offer her. His thighs trembled as they each came down from their orgasm, and Claire felt tingly and exhausted.
“Sweet girl.” Harry crooned in her ear, “I love you so much.”
Claire hummed and tiredly yawned, “Jesus,” she hummed in satisfaction, “I should get pregnant more often.”
Harry bit his lip and sharply thrusted, his half hard dick scooting up inside of Claire to make her whimper. He squeezed their laced-together fingers, “Any complaints?” He teased and she quickly shook her head, “N-Nope. None at all.”
“Thought so.” He chuckled.
“I love you, baby daddy.” Claire lazily smiled and Harry smiled into her neck, “I still can’t believe we’re finally having a baby.” He lifted up a bit to gaze down at her, and Claire had her eyes closed, softly smiling, “Me neither.” She murmured.
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Harry stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “The entire thing is just gonna be amazing. Watching you grow a beautiful bump, going to appointments together, being there with you for birth, watch our boys become big brothers.” He listed and Claire forced her eyes open to see Harry with a dreamy look on his face.
“I can’t wait to tell them.” She smiled and Harry chuckled, “They’re going to be over the moon. Should we - uh… wait until we’ve seen a doctor?”
Claire stifled a yawn, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’ll call the doctor in a minute.”
“You take a nap first, babe. I’ll pick up the kids.” He offered, kissing the corner of her mouth.
Claire didn’t protest and let Harry clean her up a bit. She giggled when he ducked underneath the sheets to sponge kisses to her tummy and whisper things to a very tiny baby that she couldn’t understand. Claire felt lighter than she had in a long time.
She took a nap and later came down to her entire world sitting at the dining table. Atlas excitedly told her about his day and Finn climbed up on Claire’s thighs to show her some of his spelling homework.
It was about a week later that Nancy came around to talk to Atlas. Claire was a bit of a nervous wreck, keeping herself busy in the kitchen as Atlas sat in his bedroom with Nancy. They hadn’t talked about it much, but Claire tried to reassure Atlas that he could say whatever he wanted and that she was a nice woman.
A small hour later, Nancy came back down the stairs and offered Claire a smile, “You have a bright boy, Claire.” She congratulated her and Claire smiled while exhaling a sigh, “Thank you. Did everything go okay?”
“It did.” She nodded, “I took some notes and I asked him if he’s okay with me sharing whatever he said with you. He said it’s fine, so I’ll write it all in my report and go through it with you the next time we see each other.”
Claire nodded, “Okay. And - uh… is there anything I can do for him right now? Was it… emotional? Does he need something?”
Nancy’s mouth curled up into a small smile and she shook her head, “It wasn’t a very emotional talk. He was nice and polite and we played a little game. He showed me his room and his toys - he’s very proud of that giraffe.” She smiled and Claire chuckled, “Yeah, he is.”
“He said it was a gift from daddy Harry.”
Claire’s insides warmed and she sniffled once, nodding, “Mhm. He gave it to him for his birthday last year.”
“That’s sweet.” Nancy then briefly touched Claire’s arm in comfort, “You don’t have to do anything special for him tonight, Ms. Carter. Atlas is very emotionally mature and I’m sure he’ll show signs or tell you when he feels in distress.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Claire exhaled before she let Nancy out.
And in the week that passed, Claire and Harry got the confirmation from the doctor that she was, in fact, pregnant. Just five weeks. But they couldn’t even keep it in. Harry had already called his parents and Claire had tried with all her might to not let anything slip to Atlas and Finn. They hadn’t noticed anything about her this week, but they’d soon notice she skipped out on different foods or she’d get sick more often, or she’d grow a bump.
Harry was by far most excited about that. The baby was a far dream for now, his current dream was seeing Claire with a beautiful bump.
He touched her stomach all the time even if there was nothing there yet, and he whispered to the baby on most evenings while she was dozing off. It was adorable to see him, and he cried tears of joy more often in the last week than Claire had seen from him in all the time she knew him.
But tonight, they decided they were going to tell the boys.
And Claire felt excited, but also a little nervous. Harry was at another meeting and Claire would pick up Finn this Friday evening. Atlas stayed home due to Nancy coming around.
Claire wore a flowy top and had sunnies on her nose as she waited by the school gate, making the obligatory small talk with Dolores - who mostly asked questions about Harry.
“So, Atlas,” She leaned down to smile brightly at him. He forced a little smile back and Claire fought her giggle as Dolores took a breath, “how come you weren’t in school today? Are you feeling sick?” She raised her hand to place it on his forehead and Atlas backed away, into Claire’s side a little.
It made her heart shatter. Of course she always taught Atlas to not let strangers touch him without him giving consent, but it also went to show that he was scared of a raised hand. She stroked her fingers through his hair and cleared her throat, “No, he wasn’t sick. We just had something to do so we’re just picking up Finn now.”
“Something to do, hm?” Dolores smiled, “Something fun? If it makes you skip out on school?”
Claire rolled her eyes and then heard the bell ringing. Atlas jumped up to greet Finn by the gate and Claire smoothed her hands over her top, “Look, Dolores, please stop putting your nose all up in my business. If I don’t give details, it’s because it’s private.” She sternly spoke.
Dolores’ lips turned into a tight line and she shot Claire a fake smile, “Noted. Have a good weekend.”
“You too.” Claire sighed before her face lit up, “Finn!” She squeaked, the boy eagerly running up to her for a hug, “Hi, Claire bear.” He mumbled and she couldn’t even find it in herself to scold him for it today.
She took his backpack to put in the back of the car, “Are you excited for the weekend?” Claire asked as both boys got in the backseat.
“Yes!” They simultaneously shouted out, making Claire smile. She looked at Finn and Atlas playfully giggling through the rear-view mirror.
“How did it go today?” Finn questioned softly. One glance in the mirror told Claire that his question was directed towards Atlas. She nodded to herself, liking how Finn was there for emotional support for Atlas. They trusted each other through and through and proudly named one another their brother. And besides that, they were best friends.
Atlas shrugged, “It was okay. The lady was nice. She had funny glasses.”
“Really?” Finn smiled and Atlas eagerly nodded, “Mhm. They went like this.” He used his fingers to motion for a cat-eye shaped pair of glasses and Claire chuckled under her breath as Finn gasped in surprise, “Wow! Is she coming back? I wanna see!”
Atlas looked at Claire and she pressed her lips together, “I’m not sure. I don’t think so, honestly. She said you did so good. It might be enough to see you just the one time.”
Atlas proudly beamed at himself and Finn patted his hand, “Hear that? She said you did good!”
“I just answered her questions.” Atlas downplayed. Finn shifted a little, “What kind of questions?”
“About mummy and daddy. And you too. And daddy Harry.” Atlas spoke. Finn nodded as he listened intently. There was a lot of hurt in the car. Some people might find it admirable that Evan at least tried to fight for Atlas. For Finn, it was just Harry. Astrid didn’t even try to see him or know him.
Claire would never understand that choice, but on the other hand it did lead her to her Harry and a lifetime of happiness. Claire slipped her hand to the backseat to squeeze Finn’s calf playfully, “Hey, you know what we’re having for dinner tonight? It was your week to pick.”
Finn gasped excitedly, “Did daddy make enchiladas?!”
He mispronounced the word completely, making Claire crack up but she nodded, “Mhm, he made enchiladas.”
“Yay!” Finn squealed as Claire pulled up on the driveway, her smile growing when she saw Harry’s car parked there too.
“Hi, my three loves.” Harry greeted them playfully with open arms, catching one boy in each as they laughed and wrestled for a bit. He held Finn back just a tad when Claire approached, “Not too rough around mum, Finn.” He warned softly. Finn didn’t think much of it and Harry slipped an arm around Claire’s form, his other hand resting low on her tummy.
Pulling her in for a long kiss, he contently hummed against her lips, “How was today?” He whispered.
“Good.” Claire smiled, “Atlas did good. Nancy is going to give us the full report at the end but she said he was so polite and sweet. So… yeah. And Atlas seems fine so far.” She shrugged, “He hasn’t said anything. Spoke about it to Finn a bit in the car.”
“That’s great.” Harry nodded, “And you? Not too rough this morning?”
“Just some sickness.” Claire shrugged, “But I didn’t throw up.”
Harry helped her put down her bag, “Did you get sick a lot when pregnant with Atlas?”
Claire swallowed thickly as she avoided his gaze, “To be honest, I - uh… I can’t really remember.”
Harry caught on and softly squeezed her hip, “‘S okay. Did you still want to tell them tonight?”
She bit her lip with a smile, “Yeah, I think so. Hey, how was the meeting?”
“Good! I pitched the idea for the new columns and they’re on board.” He shrugged, “So just need to order in the materials now.”
Claire patted his ass, “Good job, daddy.”
He huffed out, shaking his head in disbelief, “Brat.”
“What?” Claire innocently shrugged while taking a glass from the cupboard, “Just calling you by your rightful name.”
He walked up to her with a small smirk, grabbing her throat but not alarming Claire in the slightest. Harry affectionatelly rubbed his nose with hers, “I’m gonna get you back tonight, you know that, right?”
“Counting on it.” She whispered back, pecking his lips in a chaste kiss.
Harry felt a blush on his cheeks when he watched the way she walked away from him, sultrily swaying her hips. He felt so in love he didn’t even know what do with himself. No day with Claire was ever dull.
It was after dinner, when everyone was heading to the couch for a movie, that Claire nervously fiddled her fingers. Finn and Atlas sat waiting with big round eyes, “What’s the surprise?” Atlas frowned in confusion.
“We got something for the both of you.” Harry came walking up with two little bags. Claire forced a smile, knowing it was the corniest gift ever and she had absolutely no say in it. But Harry had a vision in telling the boys, and this was it.
Finn frowned too, “Is it someone’s birthday?”
“It’s not.” Harry chuckled, handing both boys a gift bag but holding up his finger, “It’s very important that you open it together and that you very carefully read what’s on it before asking any questions, okay?”
The boys eagerly nodded yet Finn pouted, “Read?” He repeated, “More reading? I thought school was done.”
Claire sputtered out a laugh at his sarcasm and even Harry found himself amused, knowing that was 100% Claire’s influence rubbing off on him. He shot Finn a look, “Just open it, bub.”
Atlas’ tongue poked out in concentration as he tried to open the ribbon and Harry and Claire shared a look before he took her hand in his and gave a squeeze.
“Slow down, Finn.” Harry softly chuckled, alerting him to wait for Atlas a bit. Eventually both boys got to opening up the bag and Claire held her breath, keeping her eyes on Atlas solemnly as he frowned in confusion, pulling out the shirt in his size and he held it open.
“World’s…” Finn struggled a bit to read the words and Harry clenched his jaw, his surprise not really going how he wanted.
“... best big brother.” Atlas finished, tilting his head to the side. Claire felt tears in her eyes this time as Atlas slowly lowered the shirt with a frown of confusion on his face. He blinked at Claire once before dropping his eyes to her stomach, and Claire’s pulse skyrocketed.
Harry cleared his throat softly, “You’re going to be big brothers. Mum and dad are… uh - having a baby.” He spoke almost nervously.
Finn’s brows raised as his jaw dropped, “A new little bub?” He gasped.
“A new little bub.” Harry chuckled in a nod.
“Baby?” Claire checked, waiting for Atlas’ reaction. He still seemed dumbfounded before he flicked his eyes between Harry and Claire, “We’re getting a little brother?”
“O-Or a sister.” Claire stuttered. Atlas immediately pouted at that, making Harry throw his head back in a laugh.
“Or a brother.” Claire quickly smiled.
Atlas got up his feet and ran up to her. Claire let go of Harry’s hand to catch Atlas, wrapping her arms around his body as he pressed his face to her neck, “Mummy, I’m so happy.” He murmured.
“Oh, thank god.” Claire sighed out, and Harry rubbed his hand over Atlas’ back with a smile.
“How long do we have to wait?!” Finn squealed, joining in on the group hug. Claire sniffled as Harry laughed, “About eight months, buddy. So… around February of next year.”
“That’s long.” Atlas pulled back with a pout, “I’ll be eight by then.”
“You will be.” Claire cupped his cheek lovingly, “You’ll both be.”
Atlas went on to hug Harry as FInn cuddled into Claire, “I love you, mum.” He whispered and Claire cried some more, kissing his cheek repeatedly, “I love you too, angel boy.”
“Now you’re the one crying.” Harry teased as he squeezed the back of Claire’s neck. She breathed out a huffing chuckle, “I’m pregnant, I’m allowed.”
“Yeah, you are.” He smiled.
***
“And then Atlas said that he gets along really well with Finn.” Nancy smiled.
Harry’s hand was on Claire’s thigh and she toyed with his fingers as they sat in Nancy’s office together. Today was their second appointment with Nancy, and basically their last. The next time they saw one another would be right before court, when she would hand out the final reports before their hearing.
Harry smiled at the words, “They do get along really well.”
“Mhm.” Claire agreed, “It’s sweet to see.”
“Atlas said so. He said Finn is his best friend.” She put the papers down, “Overall, Ms. Carter and Mr. Styles, I got to know Atlas as a very respectful and wise young man.”
Claire’s heart warmed and Nancy continued, “It was clear to me that he was genuine and honest, and his truth is that he doesn’t necessarily want any contact with his biological father. He doesn’t miss him when he’s not there and he doesn’t feel too comfortable in the house either.” Nancy then turned around a few of the papers, “I asked Atlas to draw. Both his houses.”
Claire leaned forward as Harry squinted a bit, seeing the stick figures and houses drawn. Nancy pointed to one, “This is where he drew your house. He drew this one first. He went for oranges and yellow-tones for the house itself and drew you both with precision, including color of your hair.”
Claire stared at the drawn version of herself and Nancy tapped her finger on Claire’s stick figure, “He drew you with flowers on your dress.”
“He loves that dress.” Claire smiled softly and Harry squeezed her leg.
“He drew a lot of flowers and hearts around the house itself too. And he drew clouds in his room.” Nancy ran her finger in a circle over where Atlas drew his room, “I asked him why, and he said it means dreams and comfort.”
Claire’s lip wobbled as she forced a smile. Her sweet boy.
Nancy softly cleared her throat, “Then I asked him to draw his father’s house.” Nancy grabbed another paper, and Claire and Harry’s faces immediately fell.
“He used only… grey for this one. No decorations,” Nancy explained, “no colours, no flowers, no… clouds.” She showed the house Atlas drew, “It was also noticeable how in your house, he drew himself as part of the family. When drawing his father’s house, he drew just his father. And he’s not smiling either.”
Claire and Harry didn’t respond much, just stared at the drawings. Nancy put the papers back and clasped her fingers together, “Me and Atlas played a little game after. With cards that have questions on them. I asked him what he likes about mum’s house, and he said he likes it because you’re there. He feels safe and warm, and he said daddy Harry is a very good cook.”
Harry’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled, almost blushing. Nancy smiled along, “I asked him the same about his father, and he… he didn’t have much to say. He said it’s quite bland. They don’t do much besides watch TV. And he misses swim practice every other week, and he likes to swim.”
“In short,” Nancy breathed, “Atlas doesn’t seem to have much connection to his dad. You’ll read it in the final report, but I of course had all these conversations with the father as well. Just like I asked you, I asked him to describe his son. He… he didn’t say much.” Nancy shrugged.
Claire huffed. It didn’t necessarily surprise her that Evan couldn’t describe Atlas. He wasn’t an attentive person in general and he didn’t know much about Atlas. He didn’t ask things either. Nancy cleared her throat, “For example, he couldn’t tell me Atlas’ favorite color, or his favorite subject in school, or his favorite toy or game.”
“So… I mean, these things are telling, right? Atlas is too young to be heard by the judge, but he literally told you he doesn’t want to see Evan anymore. That means something, right?” Harry questioned.
Nancy nodded, “It does. Of course… a family judge will always try to include both biological parents in the life of a child. Especially a child that can’t make that decision for himself. Atlas is young. Chances are that the judge will give Evan another chance.”
Claire frowned, “Another chance? He’s gotten billions of chances.”
“I’m also allowed to state my advice to the judge. It’s not binding, in the sense that I can’t make the decision but I can steer in a certain direction,” Nancy explained, “and I will definitely advise for an ending of contact between Atlas and Evan.”
Harry and Claire exhaled a sigh of relief and nodded to themselves, “Thank you.” Claire spoke.
And low and behold, a few weeks later, Claire and Harry went back to court to face Evan and hear the judge. Claire was a nervous wreck, and Harry constantly stroked his hand over her tummy. She was now almost three months pregnant and when wearing something extremely tight, the tiniest of bumps showed.
Claire was sure Harry imagined the bump and she had just been slacking with working out since the pregnancy, but Harry was convinced it was there. And he loved on her tiny bump like nothing else.
Today, it was concealed.
Claire wore a sundress as July approached. Harry’s mum was at the house to look after the boys for today, and tomorrow they were heading to camp for a week so Harry and Claire had some time to themselves as well.
To either cry about what was said today, or to celebrate it.
Timothy stood behind them, explaining to the judge what he had read in the social inquiry. Evan looked pissed as fuck because Nancy actually did advise for the contact between him and Atlas to be broken for the time being. Nancy didn’t advise this forever, and the judge repeated how a custody arrangement was something dynamic. Atlas would age and his needs would change, but Claire could only hope that from now on, they’d always respect his decisions and his wishes.
Timothy repeated Nancy’s words, saying that Atlas clearly didn’t have a connection with Evan and that he didn’t ask for it. Evan’s judge argued that Atlas was young and maybe didn’t exactly know what he wanted.
The judge cleared her throat and Harry and Claire held their breaths as she spoke out that Atlas and Evan were not to have contact. Almost a restraining order, so to say. It’d be under evaluation for at least six months, after which there’d probably be a new social inquiry to see how things were.
Evan’s lawyer did get the judge to agree that someone other than Nancy was to conduct the next social inquiry. Claire rolled her eyes at that.
She refused to look at Evan, not even when she felt his gaze burning on the side of her face. When he could clearly see the way Harry gently cradled Claire’s barely there bump. He couldn’t keep his hands off, especially when needing comfort or when wanting to comfort Claire.
“Oh, thank god.” Claire sighed as she turned to Harry, immediately wrapping her arms around him when the decision was final. Atlas was theirs, and he’d never have to go see his dad again unless he wanted to.
Harry exhaled in relief as he kissed the side of Claire’s neck, “You did it.” He whispered, “‘M so proud of you.”
“We did it.” Claire corrected him, pulling back to cup his cheek and plant a kiss to his lips. She felt like a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. And Harry’s too.
His eyes looked light and energized when he smiled at her, love radiating from him, “Let’s go home to our boys.” He squeezed her fingers as the pair left the courtroom.
That night, the family of four celebrated. Harry’s mum stayed over too, occupying herself with the kids a little while Claire assisted Harry in the kitchen for dinner. She cupped her hand underneath the dripping spoon he let her get a taste off and she hummed, nodding before she licked her lip, “It’s so good, H.”
“Yeah? Does it need anything more?” Harry checked and Claire shook her head, hopping on the countertop, “No, it’s perfect. I don’t understand how you do that.”
Harry chuckled, “What? Make tomato-sauce? It’s so easy.”
“Well, if it’s so easy, I’d be able to do it.” Claire muttered under her breath. Harry walked over to her, splitting her knees as he stood in between them, “Hey,” he chuckled with a slightly teasing tone, “we balance each other out, hm? I’m good at the cooking, you’re good at other stuff.”
She cocked up an eyebrow, “Like what?”
Harry opened his lips and Claire shot him a challenging look, “I swear, if you say cleaning…” She held up a warning finger and Harry laughed before pretending to bite it. He leaned in to press a deep kiss to her lips, “No, m’love. Other things.” His hands slipped up her dress to feel her bare thighs, “So good at so many other things.” He whispered against her lips before Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they were pulled into a deep make-out session.
Tongues tangled together as the food sputtered on the stove. Harry softly groaned as he nipped below her ear, “Can’t wait to fuck you in this kitchen every day next week.”
She breathed out a chuckle, running her fingers through his hair, “Trust me, me neither.” They both loved their boys so incredibly much, but a week with just the two of them sounded incredible. No responsibilities.
“Won’t be able to bend you over though.” Harry murmured, hand slipping to the bulging in her tummy as he gently stroked his fingers over her skin. Claire puffed out a breath, “We’ll do it on the bed then.” She panted, “You can bend me over all you want.”
He chuckled, “Dirty.” His hips rutted forward as they teased each other in the kitchen. The tip of his tongue flicked her bottom lip and Claire fought her shudder as Harry had her in the palm of his hand.
They were in the exact same position just twenty-four hours later. Only now it was just the two of them in the house. And now, Claire’s dress was pulled up over her hips and the straps of her shoulders were tugged down to expose her tits. Harry panted into her mouth as he thrusted inside of her, filling her deep with each thrust.
“Fuck - y’feel so good.” Harry moaned, lifting her thigh a little higher around his hip to get the deeper angle. Claire’s head thudded back into the cabinet, her lips open in laboured breaths while Harry stared at the bounce in her tits from the rhythm he had set.
After sex in the kitchen, they were in a teasing and playful mood. Harry chased Claire through the house for a bit until they ate more of Harry’s heavenly cooking with a candle dancing between them.
“C’mon, let’s go for a walk.” Harry offered Claire his hand and she sighed out, fixing her hair in the clip a little after cleaning up their dishes, “Really? Can’t we just… watch a movie?”
Harry pouted, “Babe, c’mon… it’s such a beautiful night. It’s nice and warm, and the fresh air will do us good before going to sleep.”
Claire was easily persuaded when Harry pouted at her like that, so she put on her slippers and they exited the house for a walk in the summer evening. The sun was down but the crickets were loud and the temperatures were still warm.
Their fingers were laced together as Harry guided them in the direction of a little nearby park. Claire was in the middle of telling an elaborate story about Dolores when she stopped on her tracks, blinking at the sight in front of her.
The one big tree that stood central in the little park, was lit up with lampions. It exuded warmth and Harry gently tugged Claire’s hand, “Come on.” He murmured, pulling her in the direction of the tree.
“H-Harry.” She stuttered, not finding any other words to say as she stumbled behind him a little. His face lit up from the lights as he smiled at her, coming to a stop underneath the tree. The shock on Claire’s face was slightly amusing as she blinked at him, “Did you do this?” She whispered.
“Mhm.” Harry smiled softly before cupping her chin and bringing her in for a kiss, “I wanted it to be perfect.”
“Oh my god.” Claire’s heart slammed in her chest and Harry chuckled at the tone of realization in her voice. He nodded softly and held her hands, “Mhm. You always tell me Atlas can’t keep a secret, hm?”
Claire mindlessly nodded and Harry licked his lip, “Well, he kept this secret real good. Even from Finn. He didn’t tell Finn or you that him and I went on a long walk a few weeks back and that we had a really good conversation. He asked me if I loved you and I said yes. He asked me if I’d love you forever, and I said yes. And then I asked him permission to ask you to marry me.”
“Oh my god.” Claire repeated, her voice sounding watery as tears filled her eyes but she broke out into a wide smile. Harry mirrored it and cleared his throat softly, “So here I am. Almost two years after I first thought I’d like to marry you.” He near mumbled the last part, almost saying it more to himself.
“So, my sweet Claire bear.” He teased with a smile while squeezing her fingers before taking a breath, “You came into my life like a fucking hurricane, but I’ve never felt this free or happy. A-And I can’t believe we’re having a baby together. Being with you feels so freeing, like I’ve known you all my life. And it’s so easy between us too. And then I see you with our boys and everything just clicks. You’re truly the love of my life and there’s no one I’d rather share all my days with.” He spoke.
Claire giggled as she giddily leaned in to kiss him. Harry smiled against her lips, “Will you marry me?” He whispered against her lips.
“Yes!” Claire squeaked, jumping in his arms. Harry caught her easily as they laughed and cuddled and he spun her around. Claire kissed the side of his neck and then his lips, smiling through the kissing, “I love you.” She smiled, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“Love you more.” Harry chuckled, patting her ass, “Don’t you wanna see the ring?”
“Oh, right!” Claire laughed, “I almost forgot.”
“Atlas helped me pick it out.” Harry grabbed a small velvet box from his pocket and Claire held her breath when he opened it up, revealing the minimalistic yet elegant ring, with a small diamond. It wasn’t too in your face, but it was there, and it was perfect.
Claire pressed her palm to her chest, “Oh, Harry…” She murmured, “It’s so beautiful, oh my god.”
“D’you like it?” He checked, slightly nervous. Claire couldn’t tear her eyes away from the ring as she nodded, “I love it. Truly. Wow.”
“You make me so happy.” Harry smiled as he wrapped her up again after sliding the ring on her finger. They breathily kissed while mumbling out love affirmations until Claire started waddling them back to the house.
Harry laughed at her eagerness as he gladly allowed Claire to guide him back home for a night of celebrations.
//
thank you so much for reading along!!! i adore this one :D :D :D
p.s. you asked to be tagged hehe: @theekyliepage
#wattpad#alisonfelix#writers on tumblr#writing#fanfiction#one direction#hs#harrystyles#harrystylesfanfiction#1dff#harry styles#harry styles au#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles smut one shot#hs one shot
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Hi, I’m not really sure how this works but I was wondering if you could write a lil short story/snippet of villain x reporter were villain find reporter following then after a big battle?
thank you in advance!! 💙
Oh my god I did it. I wrote a request for the first time in months, oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--
Request #29
There was blood on their left shoulder. The villain huffed in annoyance, wiping at the stain with one hand and grimacing when it smudged.
That fight had been unnecessary.
The hero had instigated it - the villain giving them ample opportunity to stand down but their enemy was stubborn. Almost stupidly so. They took one look at the villain and decided that they couldn't possibly go one second longer without punching them in the face.
And, of course, the media would paint it as their fault. Because if the villain so much as breathed anywhere near the city centre then obviously their intentions were nothing short of nefarious. No, the villain didn't need to go grocery shopping at all: those bananas were clearly going to be the foundation for their next evil scheme - crucial some might say.
The villain groaned to themself as they walked down the alleyway, using their clean hand to pinch the bridge of their nose.
So much food had been wasted.
So much damage had been caused and for what?
If they were being honest, they weren't entirely sure if it was worth it anymore. If the cause that had led them to where they were still held out strong enough to reason days like this - destruction like this. Common destruction; everyday, needless, a mere swipe upon the hero's page but an ugly blot upon their own. The villain was supposed to be fighting for change but it seemed that everything they did only made the walls they were trying to tear down stronger. They were enabling the very thing they stood against and all the while they were hurting the people they were trying to save - trying to free from a society that never thought of them twice.
At this point, it was better to simply retire and let things return to the way they were. And, if in their misery they figured out a better way then perhaps they could try again...
The villain came to a sudden stop, wondering if they would truly give in right there and then, only to freeze at the sound of movement behind them. A short, scuffling noise - someone attempting to hide and not doing a very good job of it.
Surely the hero hadn't followed them?
The villain turned about, surveying the empty alley behind them, their gaze quickly honing in on a stack of crates. They waited patiently, silent, watching as their would-be stalker peered out from behind their cover and ducked down twice as fast - a small squeak of realisation echoing off the walls. Even if the villain hadn't seen them, they certainly would have heard that.
They let themself relax somewhat, rationalising that their pursuer was either a civilian or a moron. Perhaps even both...
"You realise that you're not exactly discreet, right?" they said.
There was a pause. A long one.
"I'm going to give you to the count of three," the villain pushed. "Either you come out, or I drag you out. One--"
"No, no! N-No need for dragging!"
The villain felt their brows raising as their stalker revealed themself, quickly springing out from their hiding spot like a startled rabbit. They had been right: civilian and a moron. Though, when it came to members of the press, the villain couldn't really expect much else.
"I-I, um," the reporter stumbled on their words as the villain approached them, hands clutching onto their notepad shakily. "I just had a, er - a f-few questions. I-If that's alright with you, of course..."
Perhaps stubborn was a better word. Tenacious.
The villain had seen the way these people practically hovered around the hero. Had even seen one or two get punched by the crime-fighter out of pure annoyance and yet, still, more persisted to harass them.
None had ever attempted to approach the villain before though. None had ever dared...until now.
They stopped just centimetres away from the other, amused by the way the reporter held their ground even when they were clearly scared out of their mind.
"You get three questions," the villain allowed. "But I won't promise any answers."
The reporter's eyes widened. "W-Wait, only three?" they asked.
"Two now," the villain answered.
A beat.
The reporter floundered, opening and closing their mouth multiple times before hurriedly flicking through their notepad. Clearly they'd had their questions planned out - pages upon pages of them - but now they were having to choose only two.
The villain quirked a brow as they watched, foot starting to tap upon the ground while the seconds ticked by.
"Okay, I- no, no, h-hold on."
The reporter flicked back through their notes again, the villain tolerating it all of about five more seconds before snatching the pad from their hands and holding it out of their reach - the reporter giving a startled squeak before looking up at them with horror.
"G-Give that back," they said.
The villain smirked. "No."
"B-But--"
"But what?"
"I..." the reporter flushed, fingers twitching at their sides. "Could you please just give it back?"
The villain's grin grew sharper. "No. And you have one question left - better choose wisely."
"Wait, but that wasn't- I didn't- i-it--!"
"One question~" the villain chimed.
The reporter settled back into silence. Their gaze flicked between their notepad and the villain that held it, something surprisingly similar to a glare lining their expression. Were they about to...?
They did.
The reporter jumped up and snatched the notepad right from the villain's fingers, darting back immediately and flicking through it with frantic urgency.
Cheeky little--
Where the hell did these people get their courage from?
The villain went to snatch it back but the reporter raised their hand, reading out from the final page in an incomprehensible rush:
"DoyouthinkthatHeroshouldbeheldaccountableforthedamagetheycausewhenfightingyouanddoyoubelievethatthisdamageisnecessarywhenthwartingyourplans?"
The villain stopped. Blinked. "What did you just say to me?"
The reporter swallowed, taking in one steady breath before trying again more slowly. "Do you think that Hero should be held accountable for the damage they cause when fighting you, a-and do you believe that this damage is necessary when thwarting your plans?"
Of all the questions they could have asked, the villain had not expected it to be that. It stunned them: they were so used to people always taking the hero's side that they'd almost forgotten the rush of relief that came with being believed - that little thrill of confidence when you found out you weren't alone.
They paused, eyes wide as they studied the other in a new light. "No," they whispered.
"No?" the reporter questioned. They let themself relax a little - no longer cautious but rather curious.
"No," the villain clarified more strongly. "No: that damage is not necessary. And yes they should be held accountable for it - they shouldn't be allowed to use me as an escape goat for the destruction that they actively cause."
For a moment, the reporter's jaw went slack, fully engrossed in what they were saying. The second the villain stopped though they fumbled about their pockets, quickly fishing out a pen and clicking the lid off - taking a few scribbled notes before staring back up at the villain with shining eyes.
"Anything else?" they asked eagerly.
The villain flushed a little under the attention, and not in a bad way. The more they talked to the reporter the more likeable they became: the villain still thought they were stubborn - foolishly so - but they were beginning to recognise that it was more in a puppy-like way than anything truly annoying; the reporter was cute.
"They'll look for any excuse to attack me," they said, each word a small weight off their chest. "The papers will say that I was the one to initiate but I rarely am - that's just what the government wants you to believe. In fact, I'm sure Hero is instructed to be more reckless purposefully just to paint me in a worse light but that's never been my intention: never has been, never will be."
"I knew it!" the reporter said. Then they blushed when the villain raised a brow at them, ducking their head in a vague attempt to hide behind that tiny notebook of theirs. "I mean, I - I had some, er, speculations..."
The villain hummed. "Good speculations I'd hope."
The red of the reporter's cheeks darkened. "A-Any more comments you'd like to add?" they asked, changing the topic.
The villain had to resist the urge to sigh. Because yes; yes, they did. So many...but they didn't want to dump it all on the reporter at once and run the risk of losing the one person that they'd spoken openly to in years.
"What do you intend to do with this information?" they questioned back. "Do you plan to publish it?"
"W-Well, yes. If that's alright, o-of course." The reporter shuffled a little on their feet, suddenly shy. "Not in any of the major papers though - obviously. I mean, they would never let me... It's for a blog I write online. It's small but I-I like to think that it could grow to something bigger. Something that could, y-you know..."
"Change things?" the villain finished, watching as the reporter gave a small nod. "You want things to change?"
The reporter huffed. "Who doesn't?" they said.
The villain considered that a while. Considered it with a hesitation that they'd never had to deal with before. It was one thing to put themself at risk, it was a whole other thing entirely to then insert someone else into that same mess - to tangle them up in something that they could never get out of.
"How much?" the villain challenged. "How much do you want it?"
A pause.
The reporter swallowed, eyes glancing over the villain's frame in a studious way. "Why do I feel like you're giving me a massive, life-altering choice?"
"Because I am," the villain said simply.
"Oh."
The reporter fell silent again. Their gaze drifted away - focused back on the entrance of the alleyway that they'd followed the villain down before falling once more to stare at the notepad in their hands. They held it just a little tighter, lower lip caught between their teeth as they thought it through.
The villain waited patiently, a small excitement sparking within their chest when the reporter's attention drew back to them.
"More than anything," the other said, finally. "More than I can openly admit."
The other followed their direction without question. "O-Oh, right, yes I-- o-of course!"
The villain nodded. Smiled.
"Alright, then. So be it," they said. "You'll want to put that somewhere safe," they added as an afterthought, gesturing to the notepad in the reporter's hands.
They fumbled to put it away into a bag at their side, the villain watching them carefully as they did it.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" they asked.
The reporter waved a hand dismissively whilst they struggled with the zip. "What, me? No, no, it - it's all work, work, work. I never really find the time for much else."
"So no one to expect you then?" the villain pursued. "No one you're meant to be seeing?"
"No, I--" The reporter paused, their eyebrows drawing down ever so slightly. "Why are you asking me that?"
"Because..."
The villain took a step forward then, hands reaching out to catch onto their shoulders. They pulled the reporter closer, the civilian's face flushing at the sudden contact - the sudden strong contact.
"I'm planning to enact my first official kidnapping," the villain said, "and I want everything to go as smoothly as possible."
#writing snippet#heroxvillain snippet#heroxvillain#hero x villain#writeblr#villain x civilian#civilian x villain#villain#civilian
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The Bitter & the Sweet — teaser | Kyojuro x F!Ice Hashira
Bundle of Joy (secret pregnancy fic)
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
I meant what I said — in general, no more teasers.
However, this one has been a long time coming, and frankly, I’m interested to see what the reaction will be (if any) to Flame Boy’s Bundle of Joy.
Set post-Mugen with flashbacks. This teaser is from Shinobu’s POV. Y/N is around three months pregnant when Kyojuro is killed, though no one knew he was the father.
Song rec here.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
Hours later, Shinobu sat in her office, pouring over the early results from Y/L/N’s bloodwork. Her eyes strained to their limit to see if she could catch any sign, no matter how infinitesimal, of what could have caused the young woman’s chest pains.
Shinobu ground the charcoal stick between her fingers in agitation, her brown pinched as she scoured her brain for the possible causes. She had ruled out any physical ailment, she was certain. Y/L/N did not suffer from attacks brought about by nerves, and it was still early enough in her pregnancy that her hormones should still have been relatively stable.
Shinobu thought back to the Ice Pillar’s episode, the way that she had sobbed while hyperventilating, clutching madly at her chest, as if she were trying to hold herself together, as though her heart was falling apart.
Shinobu let out a little grunt of frustration. Just what had happened? Y/L/N’s screams, her tears, her broken utterance about something hurting, none of it pointed to any known injury or illness that the Insect Pillar had ever seen or studied.
It was almost as if it were a reaction — a deep, physical reaction to something else, something not from within, but from the outside-
Kyojuro Rengoku is dead.
Shinobu’s charcoal clattered to the floor, icy sweat breaking out across her forehead as the crow’s words echoed in her mind.
Kyojuro Rengoku is dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
Some said that when a loved one died, one’s heart felt as though it was quite literally broken.
Had Shinobu not experienced it herself first hand, she would have said such notions were ridiculous. She’d have scoffed at the idea that emotional injury could ever make a tangible, physical impact on the human body. Physical pain was caused by something real, not something as romantic as a broken heart.
Except, the day the Insect Pillar watched as her sister collapsed in her arms, fatally wounded, Shinobu had been convinced someone had punched through her chest to wrap a fist around her heart, to crush it until it was nothing but dust.
The pain had been unbearable; it had not subsided even hours after Lady Amane had pulled the sheet over her sister’s cold, lifeless face.
Kyojuro Rengoku is dead.
When she’d first informed Y/L/N that she was pregnant, the Ice Hashira had refused to say who fathered the child. But her refusal had not been out of shame or regret or fear — she had smiled, gentle and soft, as her hand caressed her stomach.
Shinobu shot backwards out of her stool, nearly toppling it over as her mind pieced together the dreadful puzzle.
Y/L/N had not suffered from any physical malady. She had suffered from something far worse.
Kyojuro Rengoku is dead.
A horrified, choked gasp squeaked its way out of Shinobu’s chest as her hand raised to clap over her mouth, her stomach clenched and roiling while nausea crept up the back of her throat.
Kyojuro Rengoku was the father of Y/N Y/L/N’s child.
But Kyojuro Rengoku was now dead.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸I🌸🌸🌸
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro rengoku#kny x reader#kny#kny rengoku#kny kyojuro#kny fanfic#demon slayer rengoku#rengoku x you#kyojuro rengoku x reader#rengoku kyōjurō#rengoku x reader#kyojuro x you#kyojuro x reader#kyojuro smut#kyojuro angst#rengoku angst
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jotaro x f!reader. going to a wedding is hard when you run into your ex who isn't quite your ex. | divider by @cafekitsune, wc 2k
cw alcohol consumption, implied age gap (reader is in her late 20s/30s and jotaro is in his 40s/50s), implied unhealthy relationship.
You feel like a fish out of water.
This would be a hilarious joke for you, marine biologist, to make if anxiety weren’t currently making every inch of your skin crawl. In search of another glass of champagne, you exhale your relief when a tray is walked right past you. A glass is plucked off, carefully, and situated between your fingers so that you can take a moment to assess the situation.
This isn’t even the first wedding you’ve been to within the last six months. Unfortunately, it is the first where you may accidentally run into a man you’ve been hoping to avoid as much as possible.
Jotaro.
Just the thought of his name makes that itchy feeling return.
You pinch the underside of your right wrist with your left fingers, reminding yourself to keep it cool and together. There’s no guarantee he’ll even be here, perpetual flake that he is. This is a wonderful opportunity for you to reconnect with your former research lab interns, now professionals either working in the field or furthering their education.
Like clockwork, one of them approaches you. You remember him as Alexander though he told you many times to call him Alex, a boyish young man with deeply tanned skin and hair that you’re certain he gets professionally permed to give him a beachy and easy going appearance.
“Hey doc!”
Smiling, you nod. Last year was your first postdoc, although you still find yourself uncertain if academia is for you or not. You’re still in your lab this year, sticking close to the place you’ve made your home. At least for now.
“Hey, kid. It’s good to see you.”
Pleasantries are exchanged, the two of you idly chatting about what has happened since the last time you saw each other. His life is far more exciting than yours, doing his time at the Speedwagon Research Station in Newfoundland just as you did yourself nearly a decade ago. Time passes so quickly even if little changes it leaves you breathless but you drown the anxiety with another sip, allowing the talkative young man to take the conversational lead.
“You know, all of us assumed last year that you two were, like, secretly married and just didn’t want anyone to know.”
Your former intern laughs, a jovial lopsided grin on his face. He did a lot of that over a year ago too, mostly at your goofy jokes or whatever playlist you picked for light lab days that would make your program co-head shake his head and silently return to his reports, a hint of a smile across his lips. Things felt good back then. Stable, at the very least. The lab was full of life, you and Dr. Kujo worked in tandem verifying research and giving advice to kids who someday hoped to do the same things the two of you have been able to do.
It sucks you haven’t heard much from Jotaro since then but hey, you understand that life happens. Always cool, always rolling with the punches, conveniently blocking out that your mattress has a permanent indentation in his shape now.
“We used to refer to you colloquially as the doctors Kujo.”
The smile you give him back doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s polite, curving just enough to show your teeth to seem less tense. You’ve perfected this smile over years of schmoozing for grants and an audience to your research alike and only reach for it when completely necessary. There’s only one person who can tell the difference between your fake smiles and your real ones anyway.
You hope his flight got delayed while tossing your head back.
“It has never really been like that between us.” That smile fades as quickly as it appeared. Lifting your champagne glass, you take a quick sip and raise your eyebrows. Smacking your lips together, appreciating the acidic bubbles over your tongue, you raise the glass halfway and nod your head.
“It’s just me, myself, and I most of the time. Tonight especially.”
The trainee turned apparent Lothario leans in toward you, that lopsided grin becoming something a little more flirtatious. You picked up on these vibes when it was definitely inappropriate and politely warded him off back then.
“So you’re single right now, eh doc?”
Now, though, you fight the urge to indulge him just to assuage your loneliness.
The difference in age between the two of you is significantly less than the gap between yourself and Jotaro. Shame simmers in your stomach while you honestly contemplate giving this bright eyed man a chance. Maybe he could make you feel wanted or needed or beautiful even, just for the evening until he heads back to where his current research has taken him in the morning.
Pathetic.
Sipping from your glass again, you shrug, washing away the words that are on your tongue. Flirting back would be a cruel thing to do to him anyway when you’ll never mean it, your heart forever stuck on one man. The energy behind you shifts and you feel a gaze on your back, a familiar voice speaking from over your shoulder.
“Give it a rest, Alex.”
Your trainee beams and looks up, up, up over your shoulder, tempting you to do the same. Turning to the side, you look up and away as quickly as you spot him. The salt and pepper sides of his hair are slicked back and his face is as unaffected as ever, aquamarine eyes flicking from the bare skin of your shoulder to the twenty something year old man across from you.
“Dr. Kujo! I was wondering when we’d bump into each other.”
The younger man holds out his hand to shake and the older one takes it. You allow the distraction to give you time to get a good look at the proverbial ghost that haunts your every dream, in disbelief that he’s real and here.
He looks amazing. That barrel chest is encased in a perfectly fitted button down shirt, his wavy hair is completely off of his face; the lines around his eyes look deeper, maybe he’s been smiling more, and you ignore the sting in the middle of your chest imagining someone else is doing that for him.
Do you even have a right to feel that way?
The conversation around you fades and you’re only acutely aware Alex is departing, holding your hand up to offer a small wiggly fingered wave and wishing him a good time. It’s just the two of you now. Jotaro wastes no time collecting your empty glass, letting it dangle from his fingers while an attendant breezes by with another tray full of them. He carefully grabs one, pinching the stem delicately, and hands it to you.
“Think he may still have that, what did you call it last year? Puppy dog crush?”
Despite yourself, you laugh. Accepting the glass with a polite nod, you don’t bother to think before you speak.
“You’re twice his age, Jotaro. Act like it.” Rolling your eyes, you sip from your champagne. You’ll need about four more glasses to protect your good time tonight, especially if Jotaro is hell bent on going down memory lane but you play along. “Besides, a year isn’t that long depending on who you ask. He didn’t forget about me.” Casting him a sidelong glance, your mouth falls into an unimpressed line. “Unlike some people.”
“Is that what you think?” He asks, face impassive as ever despite the offended lilt in his tone.
How could you possibly think anything different? Eight months ago he kissed you goodbye in the apartment you had one month left leasing, telling you he’d see you later. Between then and now you’ve moved, started another term with fresh interns, and grieved. Sometimes silently, pensive and alone staring at your hands and your journal wondering when it will stop hurting. Sometimes loudly, bitching to your friend on the phone about how impossible and fake it feels to move on when nobody you go on dates with makes you feel the same way he does.
All you do is sigh, looking over his shoulder at the guests you do not know passing quietly, unaware. You could walk away to your assigned seat but you know his assignment is right next to yours, the neatly folded place card warning you for his pending arrival. Naively you assumed he’d leave you alone. Not that you wanted him to but you hoped he had sense enough to stay away.
“Answer my question.”
It’s hard to tell who is really lacking sense here. You giggle, a bit hollow and humorless.
“I never know what to think but regardless I’m happy you made it. Have you seen Maddie and Ben yet?”
The bride and groom, the pair that was brought together in this holy matrimony thanks to their time spent as your interns. You watched them blossom before your eyes and even told Jotaro you imagined that they’d end up together someday, happy, studying rocks and plankton and water temperatures. Having little babies they’ll eventually take to the beach, leaving nothing but footprints and giggles behind.
A life you used to idealistically imagine for yourself but have outgrown. You’ve never really been the type for marriage and family, a reminder popping your dreams like a needle to a balloon when you steal another glance at Jotaro’s profile.
He leans in closer to you, nodding, eyes dipping to look at your quickly disappearing drink. “Yeah, they look happy. I’m surprised it took them this long to make it here, they seemed really eager to get to the…you know.”
An honest to God laugh leaves you, for the first time since you can remember. It takes all you have not to double over with laughter at this grown man in particular suddenly censoring himself around you.
“You can say fuck, Jojo. It’s nothing I haven’t heard or done with you before.”
The return of the old nickname, one he confided in you years ago makes him feel at home, tells him that you aren’t so angry he can’t fix things. Your body language speaks volumes, fully turned toward him with a little smile on your face. Perhaps nothing was even broken to begin with. Aside from the little hairline fractures on your heart that heal themselves each second he spends looking down at you, eyes shining like the waters you both love so much.
“Okay then.” Jotaro dips his face, hiding a smile of his own lest anyone see it and forget he’s a big, mean, scary man. He bows low enough that his head naturally rests just above your ear, chin tickling the side of your head.
“They seemed really eager to fuck back then.”
Another laugh and you grab his bicep, wrapping your hand around it to balance yourself. His hand falls naturally to your waist and the two of you are once again existing in a world made just for lovers, void of sound and sight despite two pairs of eyes on you from across the ballroom that has been transformed into a reception space.
“I’m not gonna lie dude, I still think they’re married. They definitely arrived separately to keep it a secret.” Alex leans in to another one of your former interns, an unimpressed looking young woman who leans to the side to catch the two of you actively speaking.
Your hands move a mile a minute, Jotaro watches every single twitch and movement. She swoons, laughing to herself but turning her smile toward the man next to her.
“I used to think you were making shit up but honestly, you’re right.” She nods, wrapping one of her arms around his extended one. “Only people who were made for each other behave like that.”
#jotaro x reader#jotaro kujo x reader#kendall writes#jotaken#laflidjsfasjflaskdjfkdsja im just trying to post all this stuff rn im sorry
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