#and he’s trying to do the right thing even when he messes up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpjaes · 2 days ago

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PERVERT. ― P.JS

Requested by anonymous via tumblr: dilf jay and his daughter’s best friend. Or the one where Jay is slightly obsessed with his daughter’s best friend.

minors do not interact.

WORDCOUNT― 2.8k

PAIRING ― dad/weirdo ! jay x afab reader

CONTENT― jay is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s

WARNINGS ― age gap, somnophilia, dubious consent (due to somno), unprotected sex, dom jay, pocket pussies and masturbation Support me on patreon if you'd like!

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Being called a creep or a pervert would have felt much more uncomfortable in any other situation, but it’s different right now because Jay is being a creep. A pervert, chubbing up in his pants solely because you’re trying to fuck with him again. He loves that playful tone of your voice when you call him that too, all while bending over in front of him without your panties on, fucking presenting yourself to him, then mocking him for looking.

It’s very different. You’re very different compared to the previous times you’ve been here.

He groans to himself as he remembers it. Lying alone in his bed now like he couldn’t have bent you flat over his coffee table not two hours ago. He could have done it, genuinely, you’d not have fought him on it while parading yourself around like that.

And it’s true that he always loved it when his daughter would bring her friends home from campus for a Holiday. Not for the reasons he loves it now, but still. It was always a different excuse for all the faces he’s met. Family is too busy, home life isn’t great, their family is too strict. Whatever. You come alongside his daughter often under the sad truth that you simply have no one to go home to. You’re alone and in need of some care. So, you come here, to Jay’s home, clearly acting like you’re more interested in his daughter than you are him.

Three times now you’ve come for the holidays and summer, trotting through that front door as if you always belonged here from the start. The first time was the only visit where Jay was casual towards you, somewhat of a father figure even.

He still remembers what you did at the end of that visit too. You had already been living in his house with his daughter for a month and a half by that point, only a week or two left before going back to your shitty little dorm rooms on campus for the Fall semester. His daughter was at her usual summer job that night, and you were fucking yourself openly on his living room couch.

You had feigned embarrassment, despite knowing when Jay comes home from work. He saw that shine in your eye though, the way you tried to hold back a smile at the way he looked directly at what your hand was doing, unable to tear his eyes away until you jumped up and apologized, smelling like the alcohol in his cabinet. The week following that should have been awkward too. But it wasn’t.

Solely because you found reasons to flaunt yourself from that point forward. Something clicked in Jay’s head. Lust, need, curiosity. And he thinks it clicked in your head too, because goddamn did you have nothing to hide at that point.

And still, even now, he remembers the exact spot on the couch where you had dripped all over it. So many lonely nights after that he found himself on his knees in front of it, nose planted right in that spot and trying to inhale some remnant of how wet you were that day.

The second time you appeared at his house, he had very nearly forgotten you. He can only get off so many times against his couch, after all, other things were more exciting after so many weeks had passed. He was outside on his porch hanging up christmas lights when he saw you getting out of his daughter’s car. Instantly his cock throbbed, nearly throwing him off the short ladder and onto the ground into a horny mess of man.

His daughter was there though, and he had to keep that under wraps. Quickly, he had tucked his cock and allowed the loving hug, promising a dinner of shitty food and horrible B movies to both of you before continuing his duty of, well, being a fucking dad to his daughter before being a creep to you.

That visit went well, you were actually quite distracted with his daughter and he was thankful for that, however, the day you left to start spring break was the day you reminded him that you’re…interested. Maybe.

Your daughter had already packed her belongings and gifts up in her car, and you hung around behind, feeling the electricity in the air as always when it’s just you and Jay in the room. Always wondering if he’ll say something or look for too long. You lingered, glancing at him shyly as if he knew, as if he could feel it too. But he still said nothing.

You huffed, hearing the horn outside blare as if to tell you to hurry it up. Staying too long here wouldn’t necessarily alert your best friend of anything weird going on, but there would be questions. So, you hurried it up, reaching into your bag and practically throwing a wrapped box at Jay.

He quirked a brow, looking at you under half-hooded eyes.

“Christmas was five days ago.” He said to you, almost like a question. “I know.” You had very quickly responded before practically sprinting out the door out of fear of what he’d think. Truly, you couldn’t face him opening it in front of you.

And Jay stared at that item for about two minutes before fucking it. All night. All day. Practically locked in his room, solidifying that you, his daughter’s best friend, provided a pussy for him.

All of that circles back to now, still lying in his bed alone after you had let him steal a glance of your pussy openly for the first time. Your third time in his home, this time for much longer than your last winter break. He’s gotta do something about this. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ The good news: your best friend left for work an hour ago.

The great news: Jay hasn’t stopped looking at you.

At first, this was scary for you. You recall the night you snuck into the liquor and had a few too many sips, wondering what would happen if Mr. Park saw you doing something scandalous. You’d thought he was hot upon meeting him, all dressed up in his business attire the day you first came here. That crush deepened the second you saw him fresh out of a shower not thirty minutes later, whipping around the kitchen to cook a meal for you and your best friend as if he hadn’t worked for nine hours already.

Something about him was just so unbearably sexy, and when he looked between your legs that day…you knew.

And you wanted to be sexy for him too. Thankfully, you definitely are.

The two of you are alone now, but in separate rooms. You can hear him moving around in the kitchen, washing the dishes he had used to throw together a quick breakfast, and you’re sinking into the couch wondering if he’ll ever bring up the pocket pussy you so graciously, and bravely, bought for him last christmas.

But it stays silent between the two of you, regardless of how loud the eye contact is when you pass each other, or he finds himself in the same room as you.

One hour, two hours, three hours.

Time is passing too quickly when you’re aware of someone in the room that you want. When you need them to fucking say something at this point because you’ve done your part.

Who cares if you want to fuck your best friend’s dad before she gets home from work anyway? She’ll never find out. And even if she did, you’re an adult.

“Mr. Park–” You mumble as he walks through the living room again, seemingly busy with yet another task.

“Hm?”

“Did you fuck that toy I got for you?” You didn’t have to work up the courage to ask him, the way he acts around you is enough to know.

Yet, still, he freezes in place as if he’s got a spotlight on him and newspapers being printed this very second at the mere truth of it all.

“What–” He pauses, swallowing around the lump in his throat as he prepares to lie. “What are you talking about?”

You lift from the couch, peeking over the back of it and narrowing your eyes at him.

“You threw it away?”

Still, he’s frozen.

“Of course I did.” He lies again, but he sees that disappointed look in your face to not know of how often he fucks it. Thinking of you, no less. “Funny gag gift, but there was no need.”

There was no need? What? Like, he gets around? He fucks around? Other people?

“Oh–” You start, but quickly cut yourself off to lie. “Yeah, it was a gag gift anyway. Thought you’d laugh.”

And it’s the way both of you pretend you didn’t just ask him so blatantly if he’s fucked it. A gag gift? Bullshit. You’re so fucking bad at lying it almost makes Jay want to punish you for trying to dumbly. Fucking yourself on his couch, presenting your cunt to him, gifting him something to shove his cock up into. A gag gift.

Right.

Yet still, he pretends to be normal. Acts like he’s not interested just to see if you keep trying. The funniest part is you both fucking know what you’re doing. Doesn’t change the fact that your best friend comes home and Jay continues to act like nothing has ever happened.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Disappointed sits in your gut as you cuddle under the blankets, feeling the cold fabric grow warm against your skin. This guest room has its charms but you can imagine the only action it’s ever seen has been you under these very same blankets, time and time again, plunging your fingers in and out of yourself with silent moans bitten into a pillow.

You roll your eyes, not wanting to give Jay another ounce of your lust for embarrassing you like that today. Surely he’s used the toy, right? He’s a man, whether he actually wants you or not, he wouldn’t throw away a toy that only offers pleasure, right?

Maybe that’s all it is, too. Jay being a man. Anyone would look for too long if they’ve seen you fuck yourself. Anyone would stare at your pussy if you put it in front of their face.

You’re being too confident. In fact, you’re probably just making him uncomfortable at this point. And here you are probably reading an awkward atmosphere for one suffocated by lust and pining. How…fucking embarrassing.

And, so, you count your sheep. 1, 2, 3, 100, 200, 300, 1023, 1024, 1025– and finally, sleep overtakes you.

A heavy sleep, one deep enough to not hear the click of your door or the quiet, socked feet making their way to your temporary bed. In fact, you do feel the bed dip beside you, and in your sleepy haze all you can do is mumble out to your best friend, Jay’s daughter, “Fuck off to your own room.”

There’s a pause, allowing you to fall right back into your deep sleep.

Honestly, if it weren’t for those words, Jay would have already had his hands on you. But he holds himself back, one knee on your bed and head hanging as he looks down at you. Peaceful when you sleep, no mocking or cheeky look in your eyes solely because they’re closed.

He holds his breath, thinking about all that’s happened. This is okay, right? For him to sneak past his daughter’s room just to get to you at nearly four in the morning? This isn’t weird.

It’s not. He already knows you want it, and using that toy tonight just…wasn’t doing it for him anymore. He wants the real thing.

Jay hypes himself, over and over again as he stares down at you, lifting a hand slowly to tug at the blankets. Gently, so softly pulling it down past your waist. He holds his breath at your skewed tank top, allowing a view of your plump tits squished together from the weight of your arm.

A side sleeper, forcing the curves of your body to be blatant even under the blankets. He stares more, more, more, not yet touching but now continuing to pull the blanket off of you entirely.

Ah, shorts. Those fucking shorts. The ones that show the curve of your ass when you walk around the house. The ones he’s thought twice about, three times, four times about. Wondering what they’d feel like crumpled in his hands, tearing them off of you.

And god, his cock is aching. Leaking in his sweatpants, dampening the front of them as he finally leans down, face just inches from your chest as he allows his hand to land on your hip.

Slowly, he caresses down your body with one hand, and holds himself up with the other. He can smell your lotion on your skin here, so close to your tits. He leans closer, now tucking his hands between your legs, rubbing even more gently at your thighs. And then, he leans back.

All the way up, unsure of what to do, what to touch first, if he should wake you, or if he should just fuck off and pretend yet again that this happened. His hand goes from your inner thighs to your stomach, toying with the hem of your tank top before he reaches the neck line. Right there, he pulls more gently than he did the blankets.

Hoping, praying he can see.

And see, he does. He effectively pulls your tank top enough to allow one of your nipples to pop out, slowly erecting at the sudden coolness against it, and instantly he’s playing with it. Soft pads of his fingers very lightly touching the tip of your nipple, rubbing little circles before glancing down your body when you shift.

There’s a little sound out of your mouth at this point, something that is similar enough to a moan that lets him utilize his other hand now for more than just holding himself up. He runs it right back to your thighs, both touches barely ghosting against your skin until his hips start to fuck forward on instinct.

You. Gifted. Him. A. Pussy.

It’s hard for him though, to stop what he’s doing just to grab at your hand and bump it closer to him, all so he can rest his cock in it. So, he doesn’t, not yet at least. He continues his play like this for now, moving the hand on your thighs up slightly, until you shift again in your sleep and roll onto you back.

There, he readjusts, watching the way your sleepy legs spread open and the way your tit remains exposed for him to keep massaging. His hand intentionally moves to your clothed pussy now though, hoping you’ve gotten wet in your slip.

And you have, apparently, because he can fucking feel it on the tips of his fingers. That’s all he wanted. All he needed.

And so, he doesn’t care if you wake up now. Feeling that right against his skin was enough to send him over the edge. No more enjoying it, no more simmering in the delight of touching you. No.

He pulls back, practically tearing is cock out of his pants and forcing himself between your legs with no care or even consideration. You had half woken up to the commotion, but your eyes shoot open at the ripping feeling of his cock being shoved into you. All the way to his balls.

He falls over you, both hands cradling your head as he twitches inside of you, pistoning his hips so fast, so aggressively that you can’t even catch your first waking breath. Instantly, your hands shoot around him, clawing at his back as you come back to reality from the realm of dreams.

Or, is this a dream? A sweet, wet, desperate dream?

“Shh,” Jay hums against your ear, holding your head so tightly against him as his hips move freely, without his full intent, almost animalistic. “Gonna show you–”

He cuts himself off in a moan, feeling your nails dig into his back before your legs, surprisingly, don’t run. No, you wrap them around his waist. Yet, still, you can’t speak. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hope to fucking god you can adjust to him. He’s…so much thicker than you expected.

You can feel every vein when it pulses, the bulbous head pushing past your walls regardless of how much more wet you’ve gotten. Goddamn, what a way to fucking wake up.

Expectations will never live up to reality, you suppose. Because honestly, you thought you’d be the one on top of him, taking him for all he’s worth, but somehow the way he moves seems better. The blatant taboo nature of this, and how desperate he sounds against your ear.

Fuck.

“Show me?” You manage to cry out quietly, feeling the pain slowly fade to nothing but pleasure.

“How hard I fuck that toy.” He smiles when you finally speak, relishing in the way you grip him all over. From your fingernails to your legs. Even your cunt squeezes him pathetically tight, so fucking tight.

You moan now, satisfied that he’s a fucking liar. Confident that everything you thought originally was and still is true.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

✧ please support me on patreon !

#enhypen smut #park jongseong smut #jonseong smut #jay smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours

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kingkaizen · 2 days ago

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𝓯𝓲𝓵𝓽𝓱𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼 | 𝓫𝓵𝓵𝓴 𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

∘ desc: the blue lock men and how they express their love for you <3

∘ ft: kaiser, barou, shidou, itoshi sae, + oliver

∘ a/n: happy valentine's day <3

∘ includes: nsfw, praise, finger sucking, hair pulling, wall sex, mirror sex, biting

Kaiser: words of affirmation

➳❥ kaiser loves the sound of his own voice, and he loves hearing you say his name even more

➳❥ he takes every moan and whimper as a personal victory

➳❥ expect both sweet praise and degradation in the same breath

Kaiser has you laid out beneath him, your wrists pinned above your head with one hand while the other drags down your body. His mouth brushes against your ear as he pushes into you slowly, making sure you feel every inch.

"You love this, don’t you? Being mine. Fuck, you take me so well—such a good girl for me."

You moan, and he smirks, pulling back just enough to make you chase his lips. "Tch, so needy. Go on, tell me how much you love it—say it, baby, or I stop right here."

His fingers tilt your chin up, making sure you meet his gaze, his deep blue eyes holding a dangerous glint as his lips curl into a smirk.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, dragging his thumb across your lips before slipping it into your mouth. “So fucking perfect for me. My beautiful little thing.”

You moan around his thumb, and he chuckles, his other hand trailing down your stomach, teasing where you need him most.

“Tell me how good I make you feel, pretty. Beg me to ruin you.”

Barou: acts of service

➳❥ barou isn’t one to spoil you easily – you have to earn it

➳❥ he gets off on discipline and making you work for your pleasure

➳❥ when you do earn it? he doesn’t hold back when giving you what you want

Barou has you on your hands and knees, one of his big hands gripping your waist, the other fisting your hair to keep you exactly where he wants you.

"You wanted this, didn’t you? Begging for it all night—now look at you, struggling to keep up."

Your body trembles, pushed to its limits, but he’s not done yet. He leans down, voice dark with amusement, his breath hot against your ear.

"If you wanna come, beg for it. Tell me why you deserve it."

You’re completely spent, legs shaking, body flushed, but Barou isn’t satisfied yet. He flips you over, kneeling between your thighs. Grabbing your ankle, he presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your calf, his tone low, dangerous.

"Tired already?" His sharp eyes lock onto yours, challenging. "I’m not stopping until I know you’re completely satisfied."

Before you can protest, he drags you back to him, spreading you open with ease. His mouth is on you again—sucking, licking, claiming—and when you try to squirm away, his grip tightens.

"Stay still," he growls, pinning you down. "You’re not done until I say so."

Shidou: physical touch

➳❥ shidou is a menace in bed, just completely obsessed with making you feel him everywhere for days

➳❥ his hands have to constantly be on you, gripping and manhandling you

➳❥ his favorite thing is fucking you against a mirror, watching the way you fall apart

Shidou has you pinned against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he ruts into you like a beast. His mouth is hot against your skin, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake.

"Fuck yeah, that’s it—scream for me, baby. Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good."

You whimper as he presses you harder against the mirror, making sure you can see the mess he’s making of you.

"Shit, you look so pretty like this—should keep you like this forever, huh?" He grins, biting your shoulder before slamming into you harder.

Shidou thrives on touch—his hands constantly grabbing, pinching, kneading, making sure you’re always feeling him. He loves your reactions, the way your body responds to him. His fingers dig into your thighs, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

“Gonna let me have you? Or do I have to make you beg first?”

Sae: quality time

➳❥ sae isn’t in a rush, he enjoys taking his time with you, pulling pleasure out of you in an annoyingly slow pace

➳❥ control is everything to him, commanding you to hold still and refusing to let you rush him

➳❥ he loves making you wait, begging him to go faster

Sae has you spread out on the bed, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles over your thighs as you squirm beneath him.

"Tch. So impatient." He pushes into you slowly, making you whimper at the stretch, his deep teal eyes locked onto yours.

"I want you to feel everything," he murmurs, rolling his hips in a way that has your breath catching.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, and he leans down, lips brushing against your jaw. "Relax, love. We’re just getting started."

His fingers tilt your face up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are dark, piercing, his grip firm but not rough.

“Focus on me,” he says, his voice smooth, demanding. “I don’t want your mind anywhere else.”

He takes his time—dragging his fingers over every inch of your skin, watching the way you react, the way your breath hitches when he finally touches you where you need him most.

“There we go,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s the reaction I wanted.”

Oliver: receiving gifts

➳❥ oliver loves spoiling you, but expects you to work for it

➳❥ he buys you lingerie, jewlery, silk sheets–just to ruin you against them

➳❥ loves worshipping you while you’re covered in all of the things he bought for you

Oliver sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a lazy smirk. He pats his thigh, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

"Come here, baby. Show me how much you want that new necklace."

The second you straddle him, his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kisses up your neck.

"Mm, that’s my girl. Keep moving—maybe I’ll let you have it."

Oliver smirks as he drapes the cool metal of a diamond necklace around your throat, his fingers brushing against your skin as he fastens the clasp. His lips ghost over your shoulder, trailing down until his teeth nip at your pulse.

“Something pretty for my pretty girl,” he murmurs, voice dripping with satisfaction. “But let’s be real, baby—the best gift I could give you is me.”

Before you can even process his words, he’s already spinning you around, pinning you against the nearest surface. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips with purpose, pressing himself against you so you feel just how hard he is.

“Mmm, already shivering?” His chuckle is dark, teasing, as his fingers slip under the hem of your clothes, dragging them down inch by inch. “I haven’t even started yet.”

You whimper as he spreads your thighs, one hand keeping you exactly where he wants you while the other trails between your legs, fingers teasing, barely grazing where you need him most.

"C’mon, baby, tell me—" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear. "What’s the real gift here? This little necklace… or me fucking you until you can’t even think straight?"

Before you can answer, two fingers slide into you without warning, curling just right, making your back arch as a broken moan spills from your lips.

Oliver grins, pleased, proud, as he watches you unravel beneath him.

“That’s what I thought,” he purrs. “Now, let’s see how many times I can make you say my name tonight.”

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sincerelyneo · 1 day ago

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so high school | l.hc

“no one’s ever had me. not like you…”

📀now playing: so high school by taylor swift

❯ summary: Hyuck doesn’t care that high school was years ago; after learning his girlfriend’s experience was shitty, he’s determined to rewrite it for you. After all, he’s nothing if not smitten.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, fluff, eventual smut

❯ words: 6.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni, swearing, fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, lots of gendered female terms, slight begging, brief possessiveness and jealousy bc it’s me, a brief cheating accusation but it’s stupid, hyuck being a cute boyfriend for 6k words.

an: did someone say haechan lover boy smut for valentine’s day? (they didn’t, lol. i wrote this for me, i love men in love)

“I fucking loved high school,” Hyuck says, placing down his yearbook on the coffee table.

It had to be a few years old by now, stuffed at the back of one of your bookshelves. You’d found it while doing an annual declutter and handed it to him on a whim. Knowing your boyfriend, you figured he’d find it nostalgic, or funny, or both.

You glance at him from your spot on the couch, eyebrow arched. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shifts, sitting up straighter.

“You were on the football team, babe. Voted prom king, had good grades, and probably never had to eat lunch alone,” you list off, counting on your fingers for dramatic effect. “I’d be shocked if you did hate high school.”

He laughs with a shake of his head, sinking back further into the sofa. “Okay, fine, maybe I was a little... popular.”

You roll your eyes, but a laugh slips out before you can help it. “A little? I bet you walked through the hallways like you were the lead in a drama or something stupid like that.”

He nods. “Damn right. I was the shit.”

You scoff, tossing a pillow in his direction. He’s such a cocky bastard—but you love that about him.

“Jealous?” he shoots back, smirking.

You try to playfully roll your eyes, but instead, a small frown pulls at your lips. You know he’s just teasing, messing around, but memories of junior and senior year creep into your mind uninvited. You’d never been outright bullied, but high school wasn’t exactly a highlight reel for you.

It was a blur of sitting in the back row, trying to make yourself small enough to avoid attention. Lunches alone in the library. No group of friends. No teenage dream. Dances you skipped, pretending you didn’t care when your chest ached from watching your classmates gush over photos the Monday after.

So yeah, you were a little jealous.

“Yes, actually,” you say finally, voice quieter. “High school sucked for me.”

His grin falters, posture straightening. “What?”

“I mean, it wasn’t all bad,” you rush to explain, suddenly self-conscious. “I got through it, you know? I just wasn’t... you.”

Hyuck leans back, studying you with a look you don’t see often on him—concern, worry. “What do you mean you weren’t me?”

“I wasn’t popular or cool or good at sports. I didn’t have a big friend group, and I definitely didn’t win prom queen…not that I even went.”

Hyuck doesn’t respond right away, and when you finally glance up, you find him staring at you with an expression you can’t quite place. There’s no teasing glint in his eyes, no cocky smile playing at his lips. He just looks... sad.

“Wait,” he says, his voice softer now. “You didn’t go to prom?”

You shrug. “Didn’t really have anyone to go with.”

He blinks at you like you just told him you spent your teenage years stranded on a deserted island, which for the likes of Hyuck, not attending prom was the justified equivalent.

“Are you serious?”

“Hyuck, it’s not a big deal,” you say quickly, waving him off. “High school just wasn’t my thing.”

“Not a big deal?” he repeats. “Babe, prom is like... the peak of high school. It’s the one night everyone remembers forever. How did no one ask you? I can’t wrap my head around that.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the tightness in your chest. “Not everyone peaked in high school, Hyuck. Some of us just... took it for what it was: school.”

His expression softens even more, guilt creeping into his features as he scoots closer, his thigh brushing yours. “You know you deserved better than that, right?”

“Hyuck—”

“I mean it,” he says firmly, cupping your face in his hands. “If I’d been there, you would’ve been my prom queen. Hell, I’d have skipped the whole damn thing just to hang out with you if you didn’t wanna go.”

The honeyed warmth in his voice makes your throat tighten, and you hate how easily he can do this—take the ache of old memories and replace it with something softer, lighter. Something you almost want to believe.

“Too bad we didn’t meet until after high school,” you say, forcing a smile.

Hyuck falters—but only for a moment. His gaze lingers on you as if a thought is forming behind his dark eyes.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “Too bad.”

You don’t think anything of it when he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your head as the conversation drifts elsewhere. But later, when he’s holding you close and you’re half-asleep, Hyuck is still thinking. Planning.

Because Lee Donghyuck might not be able to rewrite your past, but he’s damn sure going to be the best part of your future—trust.

Hyuck just couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The coolest person he’d ever met—his girlfriend, his soulmate—hadn’t gotten to live the high school teenage dream. No prom, no stupid corsages, no dancing barefoot at the end of the night because the heels were too much. Nothing.

It didn’t make sense. You were too fucking beautiful to be treated as background noise by those losers. Hyuck remembers the day he met you—a fully grown man—and you made him a stuttering mess. He’s never asked Mark for flirting advice ever in his life, but fuck, he wasn’t about to miss his chance with you.

How could they just disregard you?

He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated. How did no one ask you out? Were they blind? Or just stupid? What kind of idiot couldn’t see what he saw every day?

The thought of you sitting at home on prom night, like it didn’t matter, made his chest ache. He couldn’t picture it—because you were you, the type of person every cheesy teen movie was written about: beautiful, funny, and so damn perfect. And yet... those assholes in high school had somehow missed it.

And even though the sick, selfish, possessive side of him is so fucking grateful that he’s the only one that’s ever had you, and those assholes missed out, he still can’t help but obsess over it. He couldn’t change the past, no matter how much he wanted to, and that realization burned.

Hyuck groans, tipping his head back. “I’m losing it,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

But he couldn’t let it go. And because he was Lee fucking Donghyuck, when something got under his skin, he acted on it. Which is why, two days later, he finds himself standing in the middle of a small-town gymnasium, arms crossed over his chest as he surveys the scene in front of him.

“Is this the best you can do?” he asks, unimpressed.

Mark, balancing precariously on a ladder while stringing up fairy lights, glares down at him. “Dude, shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “You gave us two days to put this together. Do you even know how hard it was to convince the principal? I had to name-drop you!”

Hyuck ignores him, his eyes sweeping over the room again. Mark wasn’t wrong—he had given his friends next to no time to work with. But that didn’t stop him from wanting it to be perfect. You deserved perfect.

A cheap speaker sits on the ground, currently blasting some old prom playlist Mark had found online. The string lights slowly started taking shape, casting a soft glow across the gym. There is a table in the corner with a bowl of something pink and suspicious-looking, and a few chairs scattered around. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.

Mark climbs down from the ladder, dusting his hands on his jeans. “I think it looks fine.”

“Fine?” Hyuck repeats, scoffing. “Mark, this is a high school prom. It’s supposed to be magical or whatever. This just looks like... a school event.”

“Because it is a school event,” Mark shoots back, rolling his eyes. “Look, man, if you wanted a five-star gala, maybe you shouldn’t have sprung this on me last minute.”

Hyuck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t trying to be an ass, but he wanted, needed, to do this for you. You’d brushed off your high school experience like it was no big deal, but he could tell it meant something to you. Maybe not in a way you wanted to admit, but it was there.

And now it was his job—no, his mission—to fix it.

“Just... add more lights,” Hyuck says finally. “And maybe some balloons? Chenle, do we have balloons?”

Chenle, who was sweeping the floors, looked back with a shake of his head, scurrying off before he got caught in the crossfire.

Mark groans. “Hyuck, if we add any more lights, the entire gym’s gonna blow a fuse. And no, we don’t have balloons. You’re lucky I even managed to get lights.”

Hyuck sighs again, running a hand through his hair. He had money, sure—that was the only reason he’d managed to rent out the gym on such short notice—but even he couldn’t buy time.

Still, as he looked around the gym, he felt a flicker of pride. It wasn’t perfect, but it was something. He’d move mountains for you if he had to. And if this half-assed prom was the closest he could get, then so be it.

Mark claps a hand on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Hey,” he says, softer now. “She’s gonna love it, dude. Stop stressing out.”

Hyuck nods, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Your boyfriend’s acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.

Hyuck’s always been a little odd—but that’s one of the things you love about him. The endless hobbies he picks up and abandons in a week like juggling, the random facts he collects from late-night YouTube rabbit holes, and his never-ending need to one-up his friends in bets and challenges. But this? This feels different. Like it’s more than some dumb dare or fleeting obsession.

For the past two days, he’s been unusually secretive. You’ve caught him whispering with Mark on the phone more than once, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush whenever you’d walk into the room. And then there was yesterday—when you brought coffee to his rehearsal. You barely stepped inside before the entire group went awkwardly silent, and Hyuck practically herded you back out the door. Hyuck, who usually couldn’t keep his hands off you in public and loved showing you off, suddenly turning shy…suspicious doesn’t even begin to cover it.

And let’s not forget the disappearing act last night. He came home late, shrugging off your questions with a grin and the vague excuse of “guy stuff.” Guy stuff. That was the moment you knew something was up.

And so, you’ve been sitting on the couch, stewing, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. The seconds drag, and with each passing minute, your frustration builds. By the time you hear the jingle of his keys in the door, you’re ready to burst.

Hyuck stumbles in, his hair slightly mussed, a garment bag slung over his shoulder. He looks exhausted but excited, strange. He barely gets a foot inside before you’re on him.

“Are you cheating on me?”

His jaw drops, the grin on his face disappearing instantly, eyes blinking at you like you’ve just accused him of arson. You’d honestly prefer it if he had. “What?! No! Why would you even—what the fuck?”

“You’ve been acting so weird!” you snap, crossing your arms. “The sneaky phone calls, the late nights, the whispering, the weird excuses—guy stuff? Do you think I was born yesterday?”

That makes him laugh and you swear you see red. He thinks this is funny? You’ll show him funny.

“If you wanted to break up with me, Hyuck, don’t insult me by sneaking around! Just—just tell me to my face!” Your voice wavers, hurt bubbling in your throat as you glare at him.

Hyuck’s expression softens instantly, his eyebrows furrowing. “Hey, hey, wait—babe, no. That’s not what’s happening here, I swear.”

You narrow your eyes, pointing at the garment bag. “Oh yeah? What’s that, then? Some outfit for your other girlfriend?”

His mouth drops open, and then he barks out a laugh, though he quickly smothers it when he sees your glare. “No! Oh my God, no. Look, just… this isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he pinches his temples “Could you just go upstairs and put this on, okay?” He holds the bag out to you, practically shoving it into your hands.

“Excuse me?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Just—trust me, babe. Please. Go upstairs, put this on, and come back down when you’re ready.”

You stand there, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. Because he must have. “Hyuck, I am not—”

“Please,” he interrupts, his voice softer now. “Just this once. Do this for me. It’ll all make sense.”

His eyes meet yours, and for all the frustration boiling under your skin, you can’t ignore the quiet sincerity in his voice. Because even though his recent actions have been enough to make your paranoia spike, he’s still your Hyuck—and you trust your Hyuck.

With a sharp huff, you snatch the garment bag from his hands and stomp upstairs, slamming the bedroom door behind you before he can say another word. Your pulse is racing, irritation curling hot in your chest as you yank the zipper down and pull the dress out with more force than necessary.

It’s beautiful. And that pisses you off even more.

Who does he think he is? Sneaking around all week, ignoring you for days, then showing up with a pretty dress and expecting you to put it on without question?

Annoying. He’s so annoying.

Still scowling, you step into the dress, the silky fabric gliding over your skin like it was made for you, and knowing Hyuck he’d probably ask someone to do that for him. It fits perfectly, hugging every curve, and when you catch your reflection in the mirror, your anger stutters—just for a second. It’s beautiful. You look beautiful.

Damn it.

You swipe at your eyes before anything ridiculous like tears can form and square your shoulders. Fine. You’ll wear the dress. But you’re not going to let him off the hook so easily. Throwing the door open, you march downstairs, irritation simmering beneath the surface of your foundation. “Lee Donghyuck, you better—”

But you freeze.

Because he’s standing at the bottom of the steps in an equally beautiful suit, rocking on his heels, with a small, nervous smile playing on his lips. He’s holding a corsage in his hands—delicate flowers wrapped in silk, matching your dress perfectly.

And then, all at once, it clicks.

That fucking yearbook you found. The conversation that came after it. The sneaking around. The secrecy.

Your breath catches in your throat, warmth creeping up your neck as a blush dusts his skin. He chews his lip, eyes flickering up to meet yours, and if you didn’t know him any better, you’d swear he was nervous.

Hyuck never gets nervous.

“Do you wanna rewrite prom with me?”

And just like that, you break.

Tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and Hyuck’s smile falters just slightly as he steps forward, hand reaching out to you, as if he’s ready to catch you, to hold you close, if you were to fall. But you don’t fall. You just nod, because it feels impossible to do anything else.

How could you say no to him? How could you possibly deny the one person in the world who would do something like this for you—not because he had to, but because he wanted to, because he loves you to a point you never thought possible because he needs you to be happy.

“I love you,” you choke out through your happy tears, the words tumbling from your lips before you can stop them.

Hyuck’s worry shifts into something warmer, something softer. He steps closer, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek to wipe away the tear.

“Does that mean we’re not breaking up, then?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a tenderness underneath, a soft hope in his eyes that mirrors the love you just confessed.

Your heart skips a beat, and you nod through blurry eyes, a small smile breaking through. “Not even close.”

His face splits into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen, and before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you into his arms, rocking you side to side like he’s never going to let go. It’s overwhelming—the warmth of him, the scent of his cologne, the steady beat of his heart against your ear. And for once, you let yourself lean into it, let yourself feel just how much he loves you, because God, does he know how to show it.

“I love you too, you know,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, meant just for you. “Like, stupidly. Like, I’m gonna remind you every day until you’re sick of me, because I never want you to think I’m cheating on you ever again.”

You huff a laugh, sniffling. “I don’t think I could ever be sick of you.”

“Mm, we’ll see about that.” He pulls back just enough to look at you, taking in the glassiness in your eyes, the heat in your cheeks. Then, with a smirk, he presses the corsage into your hands. “Your favourite colour.”

“Now,” he says, stepping back and offering his arm, “if we don’t leave soon, Mark might actually rip my balls off.”

It takes you a second to register what he means, and when you glance past him, you see Mark leaning against his car, arms crossed, exuding pure suffering. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, but you know your Hyuck can be very convincing.

“Are you two done?” Mark calls, exasperated. “Because I have better things to do than play chauffeur for your little rom-com tonight.”

“Liar!” Hyuck yells, dragging you toward the car. “If you weren’t here, you’d be playing video games with Chenle or something. Your life is boring and bitchless!”

Mark groans but doesn’t deny it.

“Wait! One more thing,” Hyuck gasps, stopping you just as you’re about to step into the car. Before you can question it, he’s already sprinting back inside. A few seconds later, he bursts through the door, holding up a letterman jacket that doesn’t match your old school’s colours, but his.

And when he drapes it over your shoulders, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, his gaze catches on his surname stitched across your back. His cheeks flush that familiar shade of pink, and for once, he’s the one left speechless.

You clutch your hands to the jacket, making sure it doesn’t fall off and you can’t stop smiling. Because even though he was just being a fouled-mouthed menace to his friend. He’s clearly only ever sweet and soft with you. Hyuck opens the car door for you and he slides in beside you, lacing his fingers through yours like it’s second nature, like they belong. You look down at your joined hands, his thumb stroking slow circles against your skin, and warmth blooms in your chest.

The corsage, the letterman, the chauffeur to prom. It’s silly. It’s cheesy. It’s the kind of thing you used to roll your eyes at in movies as a teenager. But right now, with him, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Because he’s rewriting how you feel about the cheesy stuff, giving you the giddy, reckless kind of love you never got to have.

Letting his hand rest on your thigh, making you stifle your sighs as it slowly crept up your flesh. His touch is heedless and uncaring as if Mark wasn’t inches away in the front seat. It’s compulsive, carless, and so ridiculously juvenile—it’s so high school.

Which feels very on-brand as you pull up to an old brick building. Mark cuts the engine, allowing Hyuck to round the car and open your car door before holding your hand tight and walking you towards the football field.

So many memories flooded back to you as soon as he opened the gate that led to the field. Heels on the grass, on the sacred sanctuary you never had the chance to belong on. Suddenly you’re sixteen again and Hyuck leds you over to the bleachers, climbing up several rows before taking a seat and pulling you down next to him.

"Are we trespassing right now?" you ask, slipping your arms into his letterman to ward off the winter chill. "I know you love me, but you don’t have to commit a crime for me."

Hyuck scoffs, a playful smirk on his lips. "Please, you know I wouldn’t think twice about committing a crime for you if you asked me to." He pauses, then adds, "But no, we’re not trespassing. This is my old high school, and since I'm such an outstanding alumni, I had some strings pulled. They left me the key for tonight."

You roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. "So they did all this just for you, huh?"

“Don’t look at me like that, this is for us.”

"Uh-huh," you tease. "I must say, knowing how to ball in high school seems to have its perks. I was in the wrong clubs clearly. You’re basically the only person I know who managed to continue peaking after high school."

Hyuck’s smile falters, a flicker of something sad crossing his face. His eyes drift downward, and you catch that same troubled look he had when you found his yearbook—when he learned how different your high school experiences were. You don’t want him to feel like that, not when he’s trying so hard to fix it. But you don’t want him to fix it either, because as messed up as your teenage years were, they led you to him. No one’s ever had you. Not like him anyway.

You slide your hand over his, squeezing gently as you move closer. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know?”

Hyuck chuckles, that flicker of sadness vanishing as quickly as it came. “Don’t say that. You haven’t even seen what I’ve got planned inside yet. I had all the boys stressed over fairy lights and balloons all week.”

Knowing how much effort he’s put in makes you smile, your fingers drifting up to trace the curve of his cheek. He’s so beautiful. So in love. So undeniably yours.

“I’m excited to see it,” you say. “But right now, I just want to be here. Is that okay? I never really got to hang out on the bleachers.”

“Will you yell at me if I say that a sick part of me loves that you never cheered for other guys playing football?”

You shake your head with a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, undeterred. “Yeah, I wanna kill those assholes for never inviting you to a game, for not taking you to prom. But I also love that I get to be the one to do it with you. Even if we’re adults.”

You bite your lip, feigning hesitation. “Well, I have some information I think you might like.”

Hyuck raises a brow. “Oh?”

“I always wanted to make out under the bleachers,” you admit, heat creeping up your neck. “Call me cliché, but when I was a freshman, I imagined having my first kiss with Lee Felix under there.”

His nose crinkles instantly. “I don’t know who that is, but I hate him.” Hyuck scoffs, but his hands are already sliding around your waist, pulling you closer. “Still… this night is about me making your fantasies come true. So fuck that guy and let me kiss you, baby.”

And you do—let his lips capture yours, kissing you until they’re swollen and puffy, until they mould perfectly to his, like they were always meant to. Until there’s no doubt that they, and you, belong to him.

Hyuck wastes no time, scooping you into his arms with ease, carrying you into the shadows beneath the rickety metal frame. And then his lips are on yours again—hungry, unrelenting. It’s everything you ever imagined. No—better. Because it’s him and you.

His hand trails up your body as he presses you against one of the cold metal pillars, calloused fingers graze your thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Years of football have roughened his touch, but it’s the way he holds you—like he can’t get enough, like he never will—that really makes your breath hitch. And you almost want to laugh, because you’re pretty sure most people fuck after prom, not before it. But this is you and Hyuck. You’ve never played by the rules, never followed the scripted path. You never wanted to.

And that’s exactly why a soft, desperate “Please,” slips from your lips as his fingers venture higher, until they’re brushing against the hem of your panties.

“Cute,” he smiles and murmurs against your lips, grinning as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, his cool touch grazing your clit. You shiver, and it only makes him that more pleased—more proud. His other hand glides up your stomach, sneaking beneath your dress until he’s palming your breast, his thumb teasing over your nipple.

“You know…” he muses, voice dripping with amusement, “I paid good money for this dress. It’d be a shame to ruin it.”

“Please. You’d never buy me a dress you didn’t plan on ruining.”

Hyuck giggles, shaking his head, but before you can run that smart mouth of yours again, his finger slips so easily into your pussy, and you gasp, clinging to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your ear, voice thick with need. “I love that you know me so well.”

His fingers keep working you, desperate and wild—because if you know Hyuck so well, he knows you even better. Knows your body like it’s his to worship. And when he adds a second finger, stretching you open, pleasure floods through you so intensely your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back as a moan catches in your throat.

But that won’t do.

Hyuck likes to watch you. Likes to see the way your lips part, the way your brows knit together, the way your pupils blow wide with nothing but him. He wants you to know—no, needs you to know—that he’s the one making you feel this good. That it’s his touch unravelling you, his name you should be thinking about, whimpering, crying out.

So the second your lashes flicker, his fingers slow, teasing, withholding. You whimper, forced to open your eyes again, hazy and weak—just the way he likes them—just the way he needs them to be before he picks up his pace.

He’s meticulous, careful—determined to make you cum right here, right now. If your fantasy was just to make out under the bleachers, Hyuck is going to take it further, push it past anything you ever imagined. He’s going to make you cum here, again and again, until this moment is burned into your memory. Until you can never think about high school, about this field, about these bleachers, without thinking about him. About the way he touched you. About the way he made it perfect. He always makes everything perfect.

“Need you to cum all over my fingers, pretty girl. Come on,” he murmurs, pinching your clit as he tries to coax an orgasm out of you. And it doesn’t take long. The honeyed rasp of his voice, the relentless rhythm of his fingers, the way his eyes stay locked on yours—it’s all too much. You shatter around him with a high-pitched moan.

“Atta girl,” he breathes, watching you with nothing but admiration. “So fucking pretty when you cum for me.”

Your mind is fuzzy, his words melting into white noise as you come down from your high on shaky legs. If it weren’t for the pillar at your back, you’re certain you’d be a puddle on the floor. Hyuck holds you close, his hand stroking your hair as he murmurs soft praises against your ear—something about being so pretty, so good, so his. But all you can focus on is the growing bulge in his pants, the evidence of just how much he wants you. A bulge you put there. One you’re aching to take care of.

You start to drop to your knees, and he sucks in a breath, his eyes locked on yours.

“Stop,” he commands harshly, stepping back as if something’s shifted. It forces you to stand up straight again, confusion crossing your face.

“Don’t you want me to—”

“Oh, I fucking want you to, and you’re going to,” he growls. Then, he peels off his suit jacket and drapes it on the concrete floor between you two. “Now, you can get on your knees for me, Y/N,” he orders, his voice rough and commanding, but then it cracks, desperately. “Please.”

You lower yourself onto his suit jacket, kneeling before him, palms pressing firmly against his thighs. His erection is hard, straining through his suit pants, but he’s waited—waited until he knew you’d be most comfortable because that’s just who he is.

“Look at you,” he says, running his thumb over your mouth. “Puffy lips parted and ready for me. Big fucking eyes, so innocent, so needy.”

“Only for you, Hyuck,” you breathe softly as you start undoing his belt and his jaw visibly ticks.

You’ve sucked his cock before—of course you have, and you love it. And still, he looks at you like it’s the first time, nostrils flaring, pupils dilated, as he drinks in every detail of your eagerness. He’s so hungry to feel you, to get lost in you—so feral.

Using his forefinger, he lifts your chin, forcing your chin and attention on him. “I know, baby. Only me. Always me.”

You run your tongue over your lower lip, and he tracks the entire thing, looking like some kind of predator.

“Take it out.”

You comply, dropping his pants to his ankles and tugging his boxer briefs down with them. His cock springs free, angry veins visible and the tip glistening. The sight of his straining cock right in front of you pulls this desperate sound from deep in his throat. He traces every inch of your face as if he plans to paint it soon, and you’d let him.

His palm glides over your head again, fingers weaving through your hair, cupping the back of your skull to keep you anchored in place. Rough and dominant—just how he likes it, and just how you crave it.

“I need to fuck your mouth, baby. Seeing you cum in my letterman has got me so damn hard. I need this pretty mouth,” he whimpers as his palm rests on your scalp. “You’re gonna let me do that aren’t you? Because you’re such a good fucking girl.”

You nod and squirm in anticipation, using the tip of your tongue to lick a path over his slit, savouring the salty taste from the bead of precum. His eyes instantly roll back and you grip his shaft with one hand and lick a path from root to tip.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Just like that,” he hisses between his teeth as his entire body vibrates.

You look up at him, fluttering your lashes over heavy eyes. Because the only thing Hyuck craves more than his own pleasure is the sight of yours. You round your lips, sucking him in slowly. Your head bobs as you work your tongue in sync with your lips, but he’s so big, a fact you’ll never get used to. He hits the back of your throat and you hold him there, swallowing around his tip, tears welling at the corners of your eyes as your throat tightens with a gentle choke.

"Fuck—" He lurches forward, one hand gripping the pillar for support while the other tugs at your hair, pulling you off him just long enough to catch your breath—because he's nothing if not considerate.

Hyuck runs his thumb by the corner of your eye, gathering the moisture that pooled there.

“I’m ruining your makeup,” he muses, lips curling into a smirk. “I had prom pictures planned.”

A blush creeps on your cheeks, “We don’t have to take them.”

“We’re taking them.” There’s no question in his tone. It’s simply a statement. A demand. “Then I’m keeping a copy in my wallet, so next time I’m on tour, fisting my cock, I can think about you. About this."

You nod, breath hitching. "O-okay."

"Okay." His thumb drags over your lip again, teasing until you part for him, wrapping around it. He presses down, tugging lightly. "So agreeable. So obedient. Aren’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

His smirk deepens. "Good. So you'll keep sucking my cock, won't you?"

You don’t even bother with words—too eager to please, too determined to finish what you started. Your fingers wrap around him, stroking once before you take him back into your mouth, sucking deep before pulling off with a lewd pop. Then you do it again, following his cues, giving him exactly what you know he loves. A slow flick of your tongue along the underside of his head, a firm squeeze as you cup his balls, and then you’re taking him to the back of your throat. His entire abdomen tenses. His breathing turns ragged.

"Fuck." His curse is sharp as he pulls back, just enough to look at you. "I’m gonna cum. You gonna let me cum in your mouth, baby?"

You nod eagerly, mascara streaking your cheeks, spit glistening at the corner of your lips. "Please, Hyuck."

His smirk is wicked. "Are you gonna be a good little girlfriend and swallow it all for me?"

You nod—far too enthusiastically.

"Good. Now, take a deep breath, baby—'cause it’s the last one you’re getting for a while."

He runs a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before guiding your head forward. Your lips part instinctively, wrapping around him as he sets the pace, fucking your mouth with a steady rhythm. His palms cover your ears, his hips roll with precision—nothing but pure pleasure as he chases his high. And you let him. You take it, let him use you because he’s done all of this for you tonight. Because he deserves his reward.

Truthfully, watching Hyuck unravel beneath you—knowing you’re the one making him this needy, this desperate to cum—is your own reward. Because seeing him lost in pure bliss is the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

Your fingernails dig into his skin, leaving faint crescents as he keeps his pace—steady, deliberate—but always mindful, always making sure you can breathe. He checks in with his eyes, just like you said—considerate.

You moan around his length, hips shifting instinctively, searching for friction. And of course, Hyuck notices. He always notices.

"Are you getting turned on from sucking me off, Y/N?" he taunts, through a tight restraint breath. "So wet, even after I already made you cum." He pulls out of your mouth, gaze dark. "Show me. Show me how wet sucking my cock has made you.”

Heat prickles your skin as you reach under your dress, the one he bought, and gather your arousal on two fingers. You bring them up, letting him see the proof, the evidence of just how much you want him.

“Fuck,” he growls, as deep brown eyes turn black as they lock on your fingers. “So fucking obedient.”

Hyuck leans in, grasping your wrist before guiding your fingers into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the tips, slow and careful, savouring the taste—the proof of how badly he’s wrecked you. Of how much you like him, love him.

He nods toward his cock, covered in your saliva, hard and twitching, ready to cum. "Make me cum, baby. Please."

You hold his eye contact, grip his cock, and bring your mouth back to cover him. He moans, head falling back, and you work his length with your mouth and hand, doing your best to take what you can’t handle. It doesn’t take long until his hips jerk in short, sloppy movements. His breath comes out in ragged gasps, moans soft but pitched, the sound of him unravelling.

“Y/N,” he cries out your name in a whimper of desperation. One hand finds yours, holding it tenderly, while the other braces on the pillar behind you. Then, he cums—hard.

He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, because that’s his favourite part, but the sensation overwhelms him, and he has to shut them. Every muscle in his body tightens as hot, forceful pulses hit the back of your throat.

“So pretty like this,” he pants breathlessly. “Mouth full of my cum.” The pad of his thumb traces down the line of your throat. “You’re gonna swallow it, aren’t you?”

It’s not a question, and you don’t hesitate. You swallow all of him, but it’s not enough. You need more—need him inside of you.

“Fuck me, please, Hyuck.”

He shakes his head, a teasing smile tugging at his lips and then he laughs. He uses the hand he’s had entangled with yours to pull you up to your feet, steadying you gently. “I can’t. Not here.”

You pout, disappointed, your body aching for him. “Why not?”

His smile widens as he adjusts your dress, pulling the fabric down to cover you properly, the moment feeling suddenly too sweet considering he was just fucking your throat.

“Because,” he draws out playfully, “I planned a prom, and like all cheesy teenagers, I don’t plan to fuck you here.”

You quirk a brow, crossing your arms across your body. But before you can say anything, Hyuck fumbles with his suit jacket, dropping to the floor to search the pockets. His hands hover for a second before he pulls out a room key, holding it up like some kind of trophy.

You scoff with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Very cliché.”

He grins at you. “I think we have pictures to take.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct hard hours #nct one shot #kpop smut

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atlabeth · 2 days ago

Text

something about her

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: you’re reminded why you’re really here while spencer does some unwanted self reflection.

a/n: things have been a little too fun and fluffy around these parts so i had to fix it. it’s easy to forget you’re still dealing w a stalker when you’re busy living in denial <3 enjoy the mess! this whole thing is in spencer's pov bc this all got soooo far away from me

title from the song by stephen sanchez

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): things start to ramp up! stalking, anxiety, lowkey panic attacks, angst, hurt/comfort, r almost has a panic attack, alcohol/mentions of alcoholism, the usual. but more bonding!!

Spencer can’t sleep.

He’s tried every trick in the book. Counting sheep, counting to one hundred, counting to one hundred backwards, going through the alphabet, going through the alphabet backwards, methods with actual scientific research backing them—none of it works. He’s stared at the ceiling for most of the night.

He feels like a hypocrite most of all, preaching the importance of adequate sleep when he’ll be lucky to get five hours. But it looks like you barely sleep as is. He probably should keep preaching to you.

There’s a myriad of reasons to explain it. His hyperactive brain has been responsible for many restless nights. He’s still in unfamiliar territory, and he hasn’t gotten used to sleeping on this bed yet. Lest he forget, he’s your first and only line of protection here from your stalker. That’s enough to keep anyone awake, even FBI.

But then there’s also�� you in general.

Spencer can’t say he tries not to think about you, because this past week it’s felt like the only thing he’s thought about.

It’s practically impossible, even before you were shoved into this house together. You have a way of tunneling your way into a person’s mind and refusing to leave—especially his.

Again, it’s easy enough to pass off. You’re the only ones here, and the time you’re not spending alone you’re spending with each other. Your only choice beyond isolation is to talk to Spencer, and it seems you’re slowly moving past preferring it over him.

But he doesn’t think he can just pass this off.

He can’t get your smile out of his head. Your moments of levity are so few and far between that it makes them shine bright as the sun. Spencer has learned he loves how you look when you’re happy. He just wishes it wasn’t such a rarity.

Gideon’s lecture rings in his ears. He really had two jobs—keep you safe, and don’t fall for you. Hopefully he only fails the one.

It’s not like he has to worry about it, though. You might not hate him as much anymore, but you still don’t really like him. As much as it bums him out, it’s for the best. It means that in a week or two, when the team has caught the unsub and all this is over, you can both go your separate ways and you’ll never have to see Spencer again.

That bums him out even more, though.

He lets out a long sigh. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. JJ, Elle, now you—Morgan would say he really knew how to pick ‘em. Girls who didn’t like him back.

Just then his phone rings, jolting him out what could have been a convincing play for sleep if not for his thoughts, and he groans a little. Spencer fumbles around for it without lifting his head from the pillow, only turning slightly so he can flick it open and place it against his ear.

“Gideon, why are you calling this early?” he mumbles.

“I hope you’re treating her well.”

The gravelly voice through the speaker is a shock, and Spencer doesn’t really process it. His brain still hasn’t turned on.

“Gideon?” he asks again.

“I know you ran away. Trying to protect her like you have any right.”

His blood goes cold as the words finally register.

This is their unsub. This— this is your stalker.

“What do you want?” he asks, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his words.

“You’ve hurt her the same way he has,” the voice continues. “He’s ruined our lives and you don’t care.”

Spencer’s mind is simultaneously blank and running wild. He knows he should try to profile him or talk to him to get something out of him but— but all he feels is anger.

“What do you want?” he repeats, louder this time.

“Think about your priorities, Agent Reid. I’ll be watching.”

The disconnected tone blares in his ear before he can say anything else, and Spencer stares down at his phone in confused annoyance.

What kind of bullshit game is this guy trying to play with you?

First he stalks you for a month—possibly months— then sends pictures of you to your door, then forces you into hiding and now he’s just mocking you like this?

If Gideon is the goal, this bastard is doing a great job of dragging you along.

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat all of a sudden. You.

He grabs his gun off his bedside table then lunges to the door with all the athleticism of a newborn baby giraffe, nearly tripping in his haste to get out into the hallway. He slams your door open once he gets to your room, and the relief that floods through his body when you shoot up from your previously sleeping position is almost dangerous.

“Spencer?” you grumble, still completely out of it as you rub your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You’re alive. You’re okay. You’re still here.

He opens his mouth to respond, still kind of out of breath, when his phone rings again. Spencer takes it out and is already pressing it to his ear.

“What the hell do you want from her?” he barks. The absolute nerve of your stalker to call back—

“Reid, it’s me.”

It’s Gideon’s voice that comes out of the speaker this time, and Spencer feels the wave of red hot rage boiling in his stomach crash against a wall of confusion.

“I—” He swallows deeply, his eyes flicking over to your befuddled expression momentarily before he feels himself flush bright red and look away. “I’m so sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.”

“You got a call?”

His blood runs cold. “You mean you got one too?”

Gideon curses and he hears him move around. Pacing in his bedroom, if Spencer knew anything about him. “Tell me my daughter is safe.”

“She— she is,” he stammers. “I’m with her right now.”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on?” You’re sitting up now, much more aware than you were fifteen seconds ago. “Why do you have your gun— why are you talking to my dad?”

“Do a perimeter check,” Gideon demands. “If he’s there—”

“I know.” Spencer looks back at you and sighs. “You should talk to her.”

“I know,” Gideon echoes. “Let her stay on the line with me while you figure things out.”

He nods and takes the phone from his ear. “Gideon wants to talk with you.”

You’re standing up now, a dumbfounded expression on your face. “Hold on, you still haven’t answered me! What is going on?”

“I got a call from our guy,” he says. Your eyes widen and he can see your chest still. His heart clenches at the sight. “Gideon did too.”

“What?” you breathe. “Wh— what did he want?”

“To scare you.” Spencer holds up his gun. “Can you hide in the closet while I do a perimeter check?”

You scoff. Your demeanor is still shaken, but the fire is more prominent. He’s started to admire that about you. “Spencer, I am not hiding in the closet.”

“Then lock yourself in the bathroom again!” he exclaims. He doesn’t mean for the outburst, but he can’t help it. “Just— I can’t focus if I’m worried about you, and right now the only thing I can think of is how worried I am about you, so I need to know you’re safe while I do this.”

You stare at him, and Spencer stares right back, if a little frantic. He feels his chest rise and fall from the force, a stark contrast to your still body—similar to the panic he knows is in his eyes to the steely cool of yours.

“I’m not letting you potentially face an insane stalker by yourself,” you finally say.

Spencer huffs. “I am an FBI agent. I’ve faced worse things than insane stalkers.”

“We’ve been together this whole time,” you insist. “We— we can do this together too.”

He looks at you again—he can tell you’re not going to move on this. Spencer eventually sighs and holds the phone back up to his ear.

“I’m assuming you heard that?”

“Let her go with you,” Gideon says. “It’s riskier for her to be on her own than outside with you. But stay on the line, and stay alert. Nothing can happen to her—do you understand?”

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says. “I meant what I said.”

“...Good.”

Spencer holds the phone out to you again, and your lip curls.

“I’m not—”

“Come on,” he interrupts, gesturing with his head into the hallway.

Your annoyance melts into acknowledgement when you realize he’s not blowing you off again, and you nod as you take the phone. Spencer wraps both hands around his gun as he starts moving, you matching his pace as you follow him.

“Yeah, Dad,” he hears you say behind him. “I’m here.”

This is what he meant by you needing to stay behind. He’s worried about you more than anything, yes, but he also can’t help but listen. Spencer has very keen ears, to everyone’s simultaneous disdain and appreciation on the team—it makes him a very good asset in the field, but also a very good asset when it comes time for office gossip.

“No, nothing’s happened yet. Yes— yes, I’m okay, I promise. Spencer’s done an annoyingly good job of keeping me safe.”

Once Spencer reaches the door, he peers through the peephole to make sure their unsub isn’t embarrassingly obvious. It’s clear, and he turns to face you and raises a hand, then places his finger on his lips.

“Uh— I have to go dark for a sec,” you say. “We’re checking the perimeter. Don’t worry, I’ll scream if anyone tries to kill me. Be back soon.”

You pull the phone away from your ear and nod at Spencer, and he holds his breath before he opens the door.

The frigid air hits both of you at once, and he hears then sees your sharp exhale of breath. It’s been a while since either of you have been outside, but it’s good to know he hasn’t been missing superb weather.

“Stay close and stay quiet,” Spencer whispers. “I’m your only line of defense out here.”

He expects you to shoot back with some remark, but you merely nod in response. Spencer hopes he hides the shock he feels before he turns away and starts walking.

Dawn isn’t for a few more hours—the only real light source is the moon high in the night sky. It doesn't exactly help his nerves to be doing all this in the dark, but part of him is almost thankful to be doing this. Spencer doesn’t know how to deal with you or any of the emotions you stir inside of him or the sleepless nights you cause because he can’t stop thinking of you—but he knows how to do his job, and he knows how to do it damn well.

He just wishes it didn’t have to come with the unfortunate side effect of you being in immense danger.

But Spencer does his best to push those thoughts to the back of his mind—right now, he has to have one focus.

And he does. The two of you stick close to the side of the house, his eyes darting all over as he tries to dig out any details, any possible sign that the unsub was here. The ground is still a thin layer of mud from the storm last night, so it should be easy to find footprints. Spencer’s Converse aren’t doing a great job at keeping him upright—slipping in front of you is too embarrassing for him to even think about.

All of a sudden, he stops, his arm shooting out in front of you. You don’t realize it for a second and you run into him, your hand wrapping around his arm on instinct to steady yourself. If he wasn’t so shocked at what he was looking at, he would have been bright red over it.

“What the h—”

“Footprints,” he whispers. “Th— they’re almost gone, but—”

“He was here?” you interrupt. Fear spikes in your voice and your grip tightens on his arm.

“Last night, maybe.” Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, how he feels—he’s not going to make you feel worse. “The rain probably washed most of them away.”

“Spencer—”

“I am surprised these are still here, though,” he continues. “The rainfall was really heavy. I wouldn’t expect them to stay in mud like this—”

“Spencer, look where we are!” you exclaim, gesturing hard with your other hand. He realizes that you’ve let go of his arm by now, but he pushes it out of his head and looks.

“The window to your room,” he says. The blinds are closed and the lock is in place—he’s made sure every night—but there are small enough gaps between the shutters.

“He was watching us last night!” Your breathing is starting to come heavier and faster now. “We talked about all that shit and he was just here watching and we didn’t even fucking know!”

You’re on the edge of hyperventilating. Spencer has got to get you down or else you’re going to have a full blown panic attack out here.

“Hey, hey— look at me.” He says your name and that, if anything else, gets you to listen and meet his eyes. They’re filled with an unbridled fear he hasn’t seen in you until now. “Don’t think about him. Don’t think about any of this. He’s not here.”

“He was watching us—”

“And we’ll figure out what to do next. But you have to stay calm. You can’t let him win.”

You’re still harried, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your eyes dart all around. Spencer says your name softly, tucks his gun into its holster, then takes your hands in his, hoping that it gives you something to focus that isn’t the rest of this.

“Just look at me,” he says softly.

You suck in another shaky breath, but you’re not as frantic as before. You at least look him in the eye, and you don’t wrench your hands out of his grasp. Progress, if nothing else.

“Breathe with me.”

You nod—still panicked, but better. Spencer breathes in deep and you do the same, following as he counts up and down with his fingers. It takes a few rounds, but eventually, he’s gotten you off the edge.

Spencer says your name again, just as soft as before. You’re still breathing slowly in and out.

“How do you feel?”

“Better,” you murmur. “I—”

You’re interrupted by the phone you both forgot was in your hand, Gideon’s voice muddled as it comes from the receiver. You rip your hands out of Spencer’s as you come back into yourself, shaking your head and blinking a few times while you take a few steps away from him.

“I’m here, Dad,” you say. “We— we’re okay. No, nothing happened.”

Spencer blinks too. He looks down at his hands, then glances at you, then shakes his head. He walks back over to the footprint and crouches down, trying to keep his mind clear. He commits every detail he can to memory, doing his best to ignore the conversation with your dad in the background.

Well, he tunes in a little. He can’t help it—he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“We found a footprint outside my room,” you’re saying. “Spencer thinks it’s your guy. I have no idea. Yes, we are. You don’t have to be so pushy.” You sigh and he feels your gaze on him. “Spencer, we have to finish this up. Dad wants us back inside.”

He clears his throat as he nods a few times. “Let me get a picture of this first.”

You hand him the phone and Spencer snaps some photos from a few different angles, hoping forensics will be able to get anything out of it. He hears Gideon’s voice again and he holds it to his ear once more.

“Gideon?”

“Reid, get her back inside,” he says. “We can’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“We haven’t finished securing the perimeter,” he says.

“Then finish it and get back inside!” he exclaims. “You have proof that he was there—”

“We don’t know it’s him,” Spencer interrupts.

“We know there was somebody there!” Gideon shoots back. “I’m not risking her, and from what I’ve heard, you don’t want to either.”

Spencer feels his cheeks warm as he looks back at you, and he pulls his gun back out of its holster. “Come on. We have to finish this up.”

“That’s what I said,” you mutter, but you follow him without further protest.

The rest of the check goes by quickly without any other distractions or surprises, and soon enough you’re back inside. While Spencer chats with Gideon, updating him in a calmer manner on everything with the phone call and the footprint, you’re ruffling through the cabinets.

Eventually, he sees you pull out a bottle of clear liquid from the corner of his eye. He frowns and realizes that it’s vodka.

“It’s 4:29 in the morning,” Spencer says, cutting off Gideon almost absentmindedly as you pop the bottle open.

“And we found out that this place isn’t nearly as safe as anyone thought,” you respond sharply. “I think that warrants some drinking.”

“That means that you should have a clear mind,” he says. “Alcohol impairs your brain’s communication pathways, as well as your judgment and coordination.”

“I’ve gotten drunk before, genius,” you mutter as you search for a glass. You end up choosing a the mug you used for coffee the other morning then start pouring. “Enough to know it’s what I need right now.”

“It can also cause mood swings,” Spencer says. “I think that’s the last thing you need right now.”

You roll your eyes, not even bothering to look back at him as you finish pouring a concerning amount of liquor into the mug.

“What is going on over there?” Gideon asks. Spencer remembers he’s holding the phone and he puts it back to his ear.

“I think your daughter is an alcoholic,” he comments.

“I’m not an alcoholic,” you say sharply. “I just can’t focus on all this right now.”

“It’s best if she gets some sleep,” Gideon says. “All of this is likely terrifying to her, no matter how hard she tries to hide it.”

Spencer’s mind flashes back to your near panic attack—your wide eyes full of fear and harried breathing that only made you hyperventilate more when you realized you couldn’t control it. It’s too easy to think of you as some untouchable being from the way you interact with him, bothered by nothing and no one.

The mask cracks on rare occasion. It makes you seem frighteningly real.

“You’re right,” Spencer nods. You sip your drink without flinching. He doesn’t think he can even call it a drink if it’s just straight liquor. “We could all use some sleep.”

“Just make sure she’s safe,” he says. “Make sure the whole place is secure. We’re not—”

“Taking risks,” he finishes. “Believe me, I know.”

Gideon is silent for a second, and Spencer takes the time to look at you. The bags under your eyes are even more prominent, and there’s a haunted glint in your eyes as you stare at the wall. You shiver ever so slightly, the outside chill still lingering on your skin. You’ve got pajama pants on but just a plain tee. You didn’t have time to put a sweatshirt on before he pulled you outside in the mania of it all.

You really are beautiful—but you’re so damn tired.

Spencer realizes that all he wants to do is give you some respite.

“I’ll call you back later, then,” Gideon says. “To check in.”

“Okay.” Spencer’s throat bobs as he averts his eyes from you. “Get some rest too, Gideon.”

The other end hangs up without a response. Spencer stares down at the phone for a few seconds then sighs before he tucks it back into his pocket.

“What’d he want?” you ask.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking vodka out of a coffee mug at four in the morning.”

You frown. “You don’t get to judge me.”

“It’s not good for you.”

“None of this is good for me,” you enunciate. “What did my dad want?”

“I’m serious,” Spencer continues. “Drinking on an empty stomach can lead to low blood sugar— drinking at this hour is going to completely disrupt your circadian rhythm.”

“You know what else has disrupted my circadian rhythm?” you ask mockingly. “Being here. Having a stalker. Finding out that said stalker was also here, watching us. I think that’s a little worse for me than the alcohol.”

Spencer stares at you, and as you’re prone to do, you stare back. Eventually, he shakes his head and looks away, deciding to quit while he’s ahead.

“He wants you to get some sleep,” he says. “Wants us both to.”

You scoff and shake your head, downing much more vodka than you should in one go. Again, you don’t flinch—for a schoolteacher, you handle your liquor very well. “Like I’d get to sleep after this.”

“It’s important,” Spencer insists. “You’ve gotten— what? Three hours of sleep?”

“Well, all this excitement has woken me up,” you say.

“Well, I’m tired,” Spencer says. “So I guess I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He starts to walk to his room, figuring that you need time to cool off, when—

“Wait.”

Your voice is oddly strangled, and Spencer stops in his tracks.

“I—” you stop and sigh, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Our rooms are close to each other,” he says. “I’ll be able to hear if you yell.”

You rub your eyes as you let out another haggard sigh. “I can’t stand to be in that room, Spencer. Not knowing that— that he was right there.”

Spencer can’t look away from you. Your eyes glint with tears you’re trying to hold back, but you’re laid bare in a way he knows you hate.

You’re being pushed to your limits against your will, and it kills him that he can’t do anything to help you. Honestly, sometimes he feels useless being stuck here while the rest of the team is out there actively working to help you. All he can do is stand around here and annoy you.

Except you want him there. For the first time since all of this has started, you want him there.

It’s the only thing he can do for you right now. How can he refuse?

“Okay,” he says softly, and he nods. “Okay. We can share my room tonight.”

The tension in your shoulders fades ever so slightly, and you—thankfully—set the mug down. “Keep your gun close.”

“I’m not sure you want me shooting when I’m sleep deprived,” Spencer says.

Your lips twitch just so, and Spencer’s heart skips a beat. He can’t help it.

He should have known he was in too deep the moment he stepped into this house with you.

“Very cozy,” you say.

“It’s the same as your room,” Spencer responds.

You shrug. “It’s messy. Makes it feel like home.”

He feels his face flush. “I haven’t really been focused on keeping things clean.”

“Relax.” You sit down on the bed. “I’m not judging you.”

“Good.” Spencer glances at you as he moves his bag off of your side of the bed. “Because that would be very rude after the generosity I’ve shown you.”

You laugh and Spencer finds himself smiling at the sound of it. He’s glad he’s turned away, and he’s glad he manages to push it away by the time he’s turned back around.

You’re wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants now, and it’s strange to see you look so… soft. Every part of you is so sharp, some of it jagged—sometimes you harden around him, sometimes you mellow. He’s a bit tired of the back and forth.

Maybe that’s what makes him speak up.

“I’m tired of us always being at odds.”

Your eyebrows rise and you look at him. “Really?”

Spencer nods, his will bolstered. “Really. We have a nice talk one night, and I feel like we’ve had a breakthrough, and then you go back to hating me the next morning. I’m— I’m sick of it.”

He expects you to shoot back with some mocking comment like you always do, making fun of him for wanting more than what little you give him. But instead, you lay back against the pillows and shrug.

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod. “I’m too tired to want to fight right now.”

“You’re the one that always tries to fight me.”

“Aren’t you fighting me right now?”

Spencer shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

You chuckle. “Still fighting.”

He stares at you. As usual, you stare back, but this time you can’t fully bite back your smile. For some reason, that gets Spencer to break. He smiles too, and he settles down on the bed next to you. There’s a pillow buffer between you, but it’s still a lot closer than he’s used to.

Well, he did hold your hands earlier, but that’s because he was bringing you down from a panic attack. That doesn’t mean anything.

“What a day,” he mutters.

“And it hasn’t even started yet,” you muse. “I don’t know how you do this kind of shit every day.”

“I’m not really the target of any of this,” he says. “I usually stay behind the scenes. I’m good with geographical profiles, not chasing down unsubs.”

You look over at him. “You haven’t really talked about anything you do for the BAU.”

Spencer shrugs. “I thought it would be a sore subject.”

You pause. “You’re… probably right.”

“I figured.” He chuckles, then glances over at you. “But you already know enough about me. You said you would talk about your job. Teaching, and your kids, and all that.”

Your eyebrows rise. “You actually care?”

Spencer gives you a look. “I thought we were past that part in our friendship.”

“We’re not friends.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, but you go on anyway. “I’m a highschool teacher in Fairfax. You know Mount Vernon High?”

Spencer nods. “I know the name of every high school in Virginia.”

“Of course you do,” you huff. “But that’s besides the point. I did my student teacher hours there, and they offered me a full time position. I took it, so I guess I’ve been there since senior year.” You purse your lips. “It’s a little depressing when you look at it like that.”

“Then don’t look at it like that,” he say. “You said you loved your job.”

“I do!” You smile again, a bit lighter this time. “My teachers were a huge part of my life, especially in high school.” The lightness fades some, but he notices how you try to hide it. “If I could help even one kid the same way my teachers helped me, then I would have done something with my life.”

“That’s very noble of you,” Spencer says. “I don’t think I ever would have guessed you were a teacher.”

“Oh, please,” you say. “You’re a profiler. You’d figure it out.”

“You wouldn’t know I work with the FBI at first glance.”

“Well, I’m not a profiler. Besides,” you tip a shoulder, “I have the ulterior motive of wanting to introduce kids to the wonders of physics.”

Spencer’s eyes light up. “You’re a physics teacher?”

“I teach a load of science classes, but I carry the banner for AP physics.” You huff a laugh. “You’re probably the only one that doesn’t sound lame to.”

“I love physics!” he exclaims. “I’ve got a PhD in engineering, remember?”

You smile— no, you actually grin at him, and he can’t believe he finally broke through the barrier with science.

“Trust me, I’d love to talk physics with you, boy genius, but—” you’re interrupted with a yawn, and Spencer resists the urge to do the same— “but I think I’m actually about to fall asleep.”

Spencer shakes his head with a small laugh. He realizes that he’s relaxed while you’ve been talking, limbs looser and fully laying back against the pillows.

“This was actually part of my master plan to get you to rest,” he says. “Talking science always works with the team.”

He sees you smile out of his peripherals as you lay fully down, can feel every shift of your body against the mattress while you try to find a good position.

“It wasn’t you,” you say. “It was the vodka.”

“Of course,” he agrees.

Silence falls over the room as the two of you settle in. You take off your sweatshirt, a slight shiver running through you once you’re back in your tank top. Spencer removes his glasses, and he blinks a few times to adjust to the blurriness.

The bed is big enough for you to both have your own space,, and you’re both careful to keep your backs to each other. The silence is comfortable despite the previous animosity. Maybe all it really did take was for him to start talking science.

Eventually, though—

“Thank you, Spencer.” Your voice is little more than a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife. “I— I know you don’t like me. So it means a lot that you still do all this for me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, taking your words in. The mingled sounds of your breathing are really the only things filling the room, and he can feel your weight against the mattress. It’s all oddly intimate.

“You’re wrong.” He’s almost surprised at the sound of his own voice. “I do like you.”

Your shock shows through the silence. Spencer takes his chance.

“You’re going through something no one should ever have to experience, and you’re doing it with someone you think stole your life from you.” Spencer shifts ever so slightly. His hands feel inexplicably clammy. “It was unfair of me to take Gideon’s side so often.”

“Still.” Your words are muffled as you speak half into the mattress. “We have more important things to worry about. It was unfair of me to spend so much time giving you shit. You— you didn’t even know I existed until a month ago.”

“But now I do.” He pauses. “And I’m glad I do. So you can start looking forward instead of always looking back.”

Again, silence. It lasts so long Spencer wonders if you’ve fallen asleep. Your breathing is thankfully steady (a side of him is always focused on your breathing just to make sure) and you don’t shift much, so he wouldn’t be surprised. You were exhausted—

“Spencer?”

His eyes open. He didn’t even realize they had closed. You sound half-asleep, your voice nothing more than a whisper. He wishes more than anything he knew what was going through your mind right now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His heart stutters so blatantly he’s sure you can hear it. Spencer honestly doesn’t know what to say—his mouth is so dry he doesn’t know if he can say anything.

Spencer thought you hated him. You thought Spencer hated you.

It’s ironic.

“Me too,” he eventually manages.

But there’s no response. You must’ve already fallen asleep again, just conscious enough to say a few words. The rude awakening mixed with the fear and alcohol couldn’t have done you much good.

Spencer swallows the doubt in his throat and closes his eyes again, trying not to focus on you. It’s practically impossible.

He’s glad, at least, that you’re able to sleep. You deserve to rest more than anyone.

Eventually, the sound of your breathing lulls Spencer to sleep.

You were the one thing he didn’t have on his list.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes

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cosmosluckycharms · 3 days ago

Text

Bug like angel

Unhappy Birthday

pt 4.5 (again)

filler (again)

Growing up, you never really celebrated your birthday.

You grew up with people who had either completely forgotten you or were trying to forget you.

You never even realized people celebrated them until one day when you were younger, Dick brought his friends over to celebrate his birthday.

Since then you've tried celebrating your birthday.

You tried to have a tea party with paper invitations you made only for them to be crumpled up and thrown into the trash.

Over time, you had gotten used to not celebrating them, only getting a couple of "happy birthday" from friends.

You didn't need gifts either, you technically had all the money in the world to buy whatever, whenever.

You never even got to blow out a candle on a single cupcake.

So it wasn't surprising that you'd forget your birthday sometimes.

You never really celebrated your birthday.

You were sad about it growing up, but you soon realized you didn't want to celebrate with them anyway.

It was pretty late in the morning.

You were dead asleep on your bed at the manor.

It was a weekend and you were taking advantage of how you could sleep in bed all you wanted. You had just gotten back from patrol and school.

Little did you know, all your friends had been up all day and night making you a little special something.

"She won't like it like that- cmon just hand me it-!" Miles argued while pulling on the tablecloth that was party-themed

"Oh cmon, everyone knows she would want f/c themed party!" Pavitr argued back while placing the tablecloth of your favorite color onto the table

"Boys, stop fighting! At this point, if you guys keep acting like this Y/N won't have a party on time!" Rio yelled from in the kitchen.

"Sorry ma! Just give us a second, we will figure it out!" Miles said back while pulling on the tablecloth

"Yes, just a moment Ms.Morales!" Pavitr called, while pulling on the tablecloth as well. It looked like a game of tug of war.

Then they ripped the cheap tablecloth.

It ripped right in the middle.

Pav and miles stopped right then and there.

"..Fuck." Miles stared right at the rip.

"Shhiittt." Pavitr said while pulling on his hair, a bit dramatically.

"Pav, we can figure something out," Miles said while taking Pav's hands off his hair.

While Miles and Pav were coming up with ideas, Hobie was busy putting up the 'happy birthday' banner on the wall.

The only thing that was messing it up was that one side couldn't stay up.

If the left side stayed up, the right side would fall.If the right side stayed up, the left side would fall.

Once he finally got it right, it all fell.

In the kitchen, Gwen and Peni were working on your cake.

Peni is a pretty good cake decorator, and you taught Gwen how to bake pretty well.

The cake was gonna be great!

...The only thing is since the kitchen was sort of crowded and people kept bumping into them, the cake came out looking a little dumb.

It was lopsided and the handwriting was crooked. You could make out the words, but it was messy.

While Peni and Gwen were figuring out ways to fix it, Peter B was fixing out the gift table.

It would be pretty easy if Maydays the new literal sticky hands could stop sticking to the tissue paper in one of the gifts.

Somehow, for the next few hours, there was tissue paper all over the floor.

The most calm and collected ones had to be Rio and Jess. The food they were making smelled delicious and took over the house.

The only issue? They were the ones also solving the problems with the kids.

Every two minutes they had to stop and scold one of the kids to stop doing something bad.

Jeff was making sure you didn't get here early, and that no one he didn't approve of (your family) came in.

Noir and Ham were trying to fit your comically large gift into the room, which was very difficult since it was stupidly big.

While this was all happening, you were sleeping on your bed. Suddenly you woke up when you got a text from Miguel.

Spider-dad: Get ready.

You: wyat

ehat*

whay*

what*

Wgywhu*

why*

Spider-dad: Hurry.

You:??ok

Well, that made no sense.

You got ready for the day, decided to skip breakfast since you didn't wanna see your family, and put on your shoes.

You realized you felt like you were forgetting something.

Have you forgotten a friend's birthday?

No, you had all of their birthdays on a calendar and memorized them too.

Maybe it was an assignment you forgot to turn in?

Yeah, it was probably that.

You ran to your bathroom to brush your teeth, and you felt that familiar feeling.

Miguel was here!

"I'm coming, just wait a minute!" You yelled from the bathroom, still brushing your teeth.

You ran out and dabbed him up as soon as you saw him.

You started dabbing people up out habit after you saw Miles and Pavitr do it.

"So, where are we headed?" You asked while grabbing your wallet.

"We are going out to eat," Miguel said while standing awkwardly stiff like usual.

"Oh, where?" you asked, tilting your head

"that's classified." he turned his back towards you dramatically and you tried not to laugh.

"well can I at least get a piggyback ride on the way?" you asked, jokingly. You thought there was no way he was gonna do it.

He squatted down. "get on." he grumbled.

You immediately hopped on before he could change his mind.

You guys swung around for a while, it was honestly surprising how no one saw you.

You took a tiny nap while he swung. You woke up to you guys both being in front of your favorite breakfast place.

You remembered how you had once begged Dick to take you. he promised you he would take you.

Only to cancel last minute, when you were ready to go.

Turns out he had also promised Damian that he would help him train.

It wasn't the first or last time this would happen.

You shivered the thought away. You didn't want to remember that, not right now at least.

You got off Miguel's back and walked in.

You guys got seated at a booth and you immediately ordered a milkshake.

You ended up drinking at least 3 by the time you were done with breakfast.

You also ordered your favorite breakfast foods, and Miguel ordered huevos con chorizo.

You guys talked about anything and everything for a while until the topic of your friends came up.

It was then you realized you hadn't gotten a single text from any of your friends all day.

Huh. Weird.

Usually, the group chat went crazy immediately in the morning.

You decided to just ignore it, they were probably all busy.

You still had that weird feeling you were forgetting something.

After breakfast, you and Miguel started walking around a shopping mall.

You didn't really wanna shop, you could buy anything you wanted with your monthly allowance, and that made everything boring.

So you both just walked around. You didn't wanna shop.

That was until you came across a build-a-bear workshop.

As soon as you guys walked by it, you stopped dead in your tracks and you stared at a bear.

One that was in your favorite color and holding a cute little guitar.

It was literally you.

You needed it so bad.

You dragged Miguel inside with you and you both got matching bears. you forced him to get one.

Funnily enough, your bears kind of looked like your costumes.

By the end of your bear shopping and walking around, it was evening.

Miguel told you to hop on his shoulders and close your eyes.

You listened and you felt like you were moving universes again.

Miguel dropped you off his shoulders.

"Open your eyes," Miguel said, stretching his back.

You listened and you felt a faint hum going off in the back of your head.

You both started walking towards a dark room in the society, one that was empty and usually just used for small meetups between friend groups.

You jumped as the lights turned on and you heard a "surprise" coming from all your family and friends.

You looked around in surprise.

The cake was crooked and you could barley make the writing.

The banner on the wall was slanted and held on by piles of web fluid.

The tablecloth was a mix of 2 tablecloths taped together half and half.

"..So thats what I was forgetting!" You looked like a lightbulb just went off in your head.

"What were you forgetting?" asked Peni as she passed you one of the balloons that said 'Happy birthday' on it

"My birthday! I forgot it was today!" you laughed to yourself a bit.

You and the others started celebrating. You've never had a party before!

Even if the party was a mess, you knew it came from a lot of people who cared about you.

When they took out the cake for you, you started crying a little out of happiness.

A couple of people checked up on you before you admitted it was out of happiness.

You opened your gifts.

Most of them were crafts, and the ones that weren't were things you were interested in that you didn't have in your universe and your friends had in theirs.

You ended the party smiling while passed out asleep next to your friends who were equally as exhausted.

You didn't notice Peter B. taking pictures of you guys.You didn't notice until the next time you came over to Miguel's apartment and saw the picture hung up on the wall.

why am. i writing fluff

im half aselep im so tired but heres this

i might write a valentines chapter in a bit but its prolly gonna be late isigh

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert

edit: I LITERALLY FORGOT TO ADD HASHTAGS OOF

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livewiregoth · 20 hours ago

Text

I dunno why I find it funny that Constantine manages to get Danny to be like "Ok so I'm a bogus exorcist but I'm not bogus at doing my job"

Be kind of funny if after all this time eventually working with Danny, trying to get him to do shit properly, Danny helping as a repairman, Constantine thinking this guy is a normal guy with suspiciously strong abilities is the King of the Infinity Realm/the Ghost King. Like this guy that he maybe sees as a friend at times despite being annoyed of him that he has been convinced is a normal guy that's parents led to him learning to be a repairman & some how can be an exorcist even when half assing shit(well I guess fully messing it up) is the fucking king of the ghosts. Probably makes sense in some way due to the times they had to deal with some really bad demons like the time that made him finally confront Danny but still it's something he wouldn't have expected.

Even funnier(to me) is how he possibly finds out. Maybe there's a time were he just decides to ask the ghosts why Danny's power makes them leave despite not doing the exorcist shit right. Some are likely scared of his energy/aura(a part of me imagines this for ghosts that don't know yet/are newer), some say cryptic shit & some eventually finally admit who Danny is. Or maybe another way Constantine could find out would be on occasion the ghosts comment on Danny that make the blond realize there's more to his now coworker than he thought, probably brushes it off since he knows Danny can be a bit weird & as far as he knows oblivious even if strong but then someone eventually spills what's going on or says enough to figure it out.

Or some other thing leads to learning Danny is the ghost king, who knows.

I dunno I just think it'd be funny if Constantine thanks to something going on eventually learns the guy that went from some stupid bogus exorcist he hired as a joke that was good at his job to someone he sees as a coworker is actually the ghost king trying to make a living in the world of the living

Probably has some feelings about this(this guy he kind of grew close to lied(why are you surprised you knew he lied about the bogus shit), why is he going around as a human, why is trying to make a living when he's a king with duties in the Infinity Realm) but it's going to be interesting when he finally thinks things over, puts his thoughts together & what he does with this info afterwords.

Does he confront Danny or for once just lets things be? Maybe he lets whatever take its course & Danny eventually has a moment were he has to confess for some reason. There's a lot of scenarios that could happen, the options are infinite.

I'm likely thinking too much again

Another dpxdc prompt (sorry it’s been so long)

So Danny, now grown up and the ghost king, is looking for a job. However bc of his responsibilities as king a normal job won’t do. He would need to be able to make his own hours and such. He tried to be a freelance repair/electrical guy (thx mum and dad for those skills) but it never made that much money.

Then one day, prompted by a joke comment from Tucker about going back to ghost fights, he has a great idea!!

That’s how ‘Spook exterminator’ is born!! (He wanted to call it ghost busters but that was trademarked)

He essentially becomes an exorcist for higher and is very good at it. See what he didn’t know before this is that the ghost his use to, realm ghost, are actually the strongest type of ghost and as the king of them he is the strongest of them. This essentially means he has a ‘top predator’ vibe that sends most non realm ghost running before he even steps into the building. All he has to do then is call upon his inter theatre kid and put on a good show before leaving with a full wallet.

It’s not like he’s scamming them or anything. He is getting rid of the ghost! He just likes putting a little flare to it! Plus it gives him better tips.

Anyway cutting over to Constantine who, drunk out of his mind, thinks it would be hilarious to higher some bogus exorcist he saw a flier for and take them to the most haunted house he knowns just to see what happens.

He was definitely not expecting every ghost to hightail it out of there before the guy even step foot in the door. For a second he thought that maybe he was wrong about the guy being bogus and that maybe he was actually an very skilled exorcist but then he proceeded to do the most fake ritual he had ever fucking seen. The guy couldn’t even speak Latin!!

Needless to say John was very confused

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mountttmase · 2 days ago

Text

Just For Us

Note - happy valentines pookies 🩷 I’ve been sitting on this one for a while so I hope you like it 😘 thank you to @saltyheartnightmare for always providing me with ideas and letting me run with them 😂 feedback would be appreciated xoxo

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6k

Warnings - fluff and angst

Another week over you told yourself as you shut your laptop down. Sighing as your eyes fell to the window that overlooked the garden next to you but it was pitch back outside and all you could see was your own reflection staring back at you. A tired and grumpy version of you that you were starting to not recognise.

You hadn't heard anything going on in the house, the time just ticking past 5pm and you knew you were still all alone in here. The thought of walking out of your home office into a dark and empty home upset you more than it should have, but then again everything was upsetting you at the moment.

Mason had promised he’d be here, letting you know that training would be over around 3pm and he’d make sure to get home at a reasonable time so you could spend your first valentines living under the same roof together, but once again he was nowhere to be seen.

You got why he was always in late, he was almost done with his recovery and had been staying later most evenings in order to get himself into a good place but you missed him and with everything else going on in your life right now all you wanted to was to be wrapped up in the arms of the man you loved.

You hadn't lived with Mason long, moving in at the end of November so you were approaching the three month mark but you felt like everything had taken a downturn for you since then. It was nothing to do with Mason himself, he was a dream most of the time and was looking after you just like he’d promised but it was everything you’d left home that was bringing you down.

Manchester was so far from everything you knew, having grown up in London you never envisaged living so far away when you had everything you needed right there but there was one thing your favourite city didn’t have anymore, and that was the boy you were in love with.

It wasn’t often you thought back to how you first met Mason, but since it was valentines day and you were in your feels a bit you let your mind wander back to that cold but sunny morning. It was your favourite type of weather on your favourite day of the year, pumpkin picking with your best friend, and as you reached for the last wheelbarrow your hand brushed against someone else’s as they did the same.

‘Oh shit, sorry. You take it, I can wait’ you heard, turning to your right to see quite possibly the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen and the sight of him filled you with nerves.

‘Oh n-no please you have it’ you stuttered, your face warming as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest but you could see the tops of his cheeks turning pink too and you thought he looked adorable.

‘It’s fine’ he laughed, motioning for you to take it but you knew you’d mess up somehow now if you had to try and get it out in front of him and you weren’t up for embarrassing yourself whilst he watched on.

‘No please, I’m not even sure I know how to use this thing properly and I’ll just end up taking someone’s legs out’ you joked and as you both shared a giggle, a worker came with a new batch of clean ones.

‘Here let me grab you one, these look smaller’ he nodded as he walked over to get one for you and you used the time he was facing away from you to give him a once over. You most definitely liked what you saw and as he turned back to face you, you wondered if he’d caught you staring at his bum. You gave him a warm smile though as he placed it in front of you but you were trying to stall as you still felt awkward pushing it in front of him.

‘Thank you…’

‘I’m Mason’ he smiled, nodding his head shyly before he gave you a look as if to silently ask what your name was and you had to swallow a nervous lump before you told him.

‘Y/n’

‘Well y/n, if you see me running away from you please don’t take any offence, I’m just protecting my ankles’ he joked and you covered your mouth with your hand as you laughed at his silly joke.

‘I’ll keep that in mind’

‘Mase? You coming’ you heard, looking over to a woman with two kids in tow and you felt yourself deflate. Of course he wasn’t single, look at him, and as he called over that he wouldn’t be a second you kept your eyes on the floor.

‘Sorry I best get going, I don’t wanna upset the nieces’ he laughed and your eyes flashed up to meet his. Relief ripping through you at the knowledge that was presumably his sister. ‘See you out there?’

‘I hope so’ you whispered. Your answer taking him by surprise a bit as his blush deepened but you just just picked up your wheelbarrow and went in search of your bestie so you could crack on with your day.

It was like you couldn’t get away from each other, him joining the line behind you for food, your eyes constantly catching as you browsed the little pumpkins in the wooden crates and once you’d made it out into the main field it felt like he was following you. Always in the same section and your friend had seemingly picked up on the way you kept looking at each other and would steer your wheelbarrow in his direction.

It was fun watching him play with the two little girls, posing for pictures with them and helping them pick out ones for them to carve and he looked as though he was having as much fun as them. Not caring how goofy or silly he looked, he just wanted to make them smile and from the constant giggles it was clearly working.

‘You need a hand with that one?’ You suddenly heard from behind you. Mason's voice shocking you slightly but as he brushed up next to you and you could tell he was looking at the same pumpkin you were.

‘Do you think it’s too big?’ You asked and you knew it was a stupid question. It was one of the biggest ones in the whole field but it was perfect and you just needed one person to tell you it was okay to have.

‘Nah, you need to measure pumpkins with your heart’ he told sincerely. ‘If you want it, I’d say get it’

‘You know what, you’re right. I’m having it’

‘Here let me’ he offered. Picking it up effortlessly and placing it in your wheelbarrow for you before dusting himself off as he was now covered in dirt be he didn’t seem to mind.

He stayed with you for a bit as you spoke. His sister had taken the girls to the loo so he had a few minutes spare and he started off by asking if you’d taken anyone’s legs out yet. Seeming dissatisfied when you told him no but there was always time and you were lucky enough to see that heartbreaking smile of his again as he laughed before he caught sight of the girls coming back.

‘You’re really good with them’ you told him honestly and you could see him getting shy again as he laughed nervously.

‘I don’t live round this way anymore so I like to make it count when I’m here’ he told you and you wondered how far away he was now. You knew you wouldn’t get to ask or find out though, your bestie was standing like a lemon a few steps away as she pretended to look at the pumpkins and with his family coming back over you presumed you’d be torn apart again but before he returned to them he faced you a little more ‘Listen, at the risk of sounding like a crazy person, I took a picture of you earlier and I was wondering if I could send it you?’

‘You what?’ You laughed, watching his cheeks redden more than you’d ever seen to the point the bridge of his nose was also glowing.

‘Sorry, I saw you posing for some your friend was taking and I just thought you looked nice and wondered if you’d want a more candid one’ he mumbled shyly. ‘Shit, sorry I shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t delete it if you-‘

‘I guess I should give you my number then’ you whispered with a smile, holding your hand out for him to place his phone in and the look of relief that washed over his face made you chuckle.

As soon as you handed it back he had to go but you knew it was coming so you bid him a quick goodbye and not even five minutes later you felt your phone buzz in your pocket

It was a fairly brazen comment from you, but it seemed to do the trick and the pair of you were messaging for the rest of the day and well into the night. All tucked up in bed later as you giggled into your pillow and when you got onto the topic of where he lived now, since he’d mentioned not being here anymore, things took a bit of a turn.

You’d had no idea he was a footballer, you had never met one in your life and had no idea what it even all meant but he told you he didn’t want you to think of him as any different than you had done earlier. He was still the same guy, he just has a slightly strange job compared to the average person.

He was right though, coming across to you as just like any normal guy and as the weeks passed you could feel yourself starting to slip under his spell. It was never your intention to speak to someone who lived so far away and you knew that seeing him again would be difficult, even if he wanted to see you anyway, but you couldn’t help your feelings towards him no matter how much you told yourself nothing would amount to anything.

You didn’t expect him to go in fully and dress up exactly like him but when he showed you his onesie on face time his enthusiasm excited you. You’d never had a boy to do a couples costume with before and you weren’t even sure he that’s what he wanted when he was asking for costume ideas but you’d decided to shoot your shot and thankfully it had paid off.

He was staying with a friend but just as he promised, he came to get you from your house. You thought it might be awkward, the pair of you only seeing each other in person once but as soon as you saw him again it was like no time had passed. Him knocking on your door fully dressed up and you giggled as he gave you a kiss on the cheek after a big hug.

You didn’t live too far away thankfully and after 20 minutes or so in the car with him, he was pulling up to his friends house. It was unlike anything you’d seen and you tried not to let it show that you were that impressed so you just took his hand and let him lead you through. You felt awkward instantly though as you looked around as it was full of gorgeous girls in barely there outfits whilst you stood there in a big pink t-shirt and your hair in bunches. Mason picked up on you straight away though and pulled you closer to him by your waist.

‘You good?’

‘You could have told me it was that type of party’ you laughed, hiding your face in his neck but he just squeezed you and bumped the side of your head with his nose so you’d look at him.

‘What do you mean?’ He smiled, rubbing your back a little bit as he was confused and you were finding it hard to be mad at him.

‘Mason, there are girls here who look like they’ve just stepped off a runway and I look like… well this’

‘You look perfect’ he whispered, kissing your forehead gently. Your cheeks warming instantly as even though he was being pretty touchy this was the first proper bit of intimacy you’d had from him. ‘I’m not looking at what anyone else is wearing anyway’ he reassured you and you felt your face heat even more at how lovely he was being.

His hand very rarely left yours and if it did it was just so he could hold your waist or wrap his arm around you and considering it was his friends party filled with people he didn’t see too often you were surprised at how much he didn’t want to mingle. That every conversation you joined you wouldn’t stay in long as he’d ask you something and soon enough you’d be in your own world again and when you asked him why he just smiled brightly.

‘I know those boring bastards, but I don’t know you yet. Not as much as I’d like to anyway’ he teased as his eyes flickered all over you and you felt your knees go weak as he bit his lip.

He was the perfect gentleman, getting all your drinks for you and letting you know he’d look after you. Mason himself wasn’t drinking as he wasn’t allowed but you noticed all his friends were and you figured it was just because he’d promised to take you home and was making sure he could. Mason seemed like the type to have a great time without drink though however you were thankful you’d had a few to loosen you up a bit.

As the night came to an end, you both knew you didn’t want to part but as you still lived with your overbearing parents it made things difficult. It had taken you enough time to convince them to let you come here tonight so staying out all night was completely out of the question and when the house began to empty out you knew it was time.

‘I think I need the loo before we go’ you told Mason, and his sad smile told you all you needed to know.

‘I’ll show you where it is’ he smiled, taking you by the hand upstairs and when he pulled open a random door and flicked the light on you were met with a bright and airy guest bedroom. ‘Just through here. Everyone’s been using the main one so this should be cleaner’ he laughed and you popped a quick kiss on his cheek as you passed by.

Once you were out you waited for him whilst he popped in there. Having a look at yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked somewhat acceptable and he was out quicker than you thought he’d be so he caught you checking yourself out.

He was quick to come over and wrap his arms around you from behind whilst taking his phone out of his pocket to hand to you. Instructing that he wanted you to take a few photos of the pair of you together to commemorate your first Halloween but soon enough you stopped taking any pictures and he was just holding you.

‘Come on’ he huffed. Removing his arms from around your waist and you could tell he was deflated just from the sound of his voice.

‘What’s wrong?’ You asked as you turned to him and the playful pout on his face made you feel a little bit guilty.

‘I’ve been dreading this part all night’ he chuckled, pulling you into his chest now so he could hug you properly and when he tucked his head into your neck you couldn’t stop your smile. ‘Sulley doesn’t want to say goodbye to his Boo’

‘Oh Mase’

‘Stay with me tonight’ he whispered, pulling back to look at you pleadingly and you almost gave in then and there. ‘Please, boo’

‘Mase.. I can’t’ you breathed, shaking your head ever so slightly. ‘I’m sorry-‘

‘No I’m sorry, I’m being way too forward. It’s just I’m not here long and I want to spend as much time with you as I can’

‘I want that too’

‘But?’

‘My mum will kill me’ you laughed, realising how ridiculous you sounded but Mason seemed to understand and quickly popped a kiss on your cheek. ‘Maybe I could come up to Manchester soon and visit?’ You asked, shock taking over his face at what you were suggesting and you were certain yours looked the same as you hadn’t even thought about the words before they’d come out of your mouth.

‘Yeah? You’d want to’

‘Yeah of course. I’ve never been before’ you told him and the smile he sent you made your heart race. ‘I just think it might be a bit too soon for you know … all that. I’ve never-‘

‘No you’re right’ he laughed as he cut you off. ‘Sorry I’ve just been getting a bit ahead of myself I think. I don’t know if I’ve made it that obvious but I really like you’ he told you as his cheeks flushed and you knew yours were doing the exact same.

‘Really? I had no idea’ you teased but you knew you needed to be honest with him too. ‘I like you too’

It was the longest three seconds of your life. Watching his eyes flicker down to your lips as he moved closer to you and you were powerless to stop anything. Tilting your face up to meet his and before you knew it his lips were on yours.

This wasn’t like any kiss first you’d ever had before. It was slow and sexy and you both hummed into each other's mouths as his tongue brushed against yours playfully. Your heart racing in your chest as he ever so carefully moved his lips against yours and you knew you’d never be the same again after this.

‘Come on, I’ll get you home’ he whispered against your lips after you’d parted but you felt deflated instantly. You didn’t want to leave him now, not after the best first kiss you’d ever had but you knew it was the right thing to do.

‘Are you sure it’s okay? You know-‘

‘I can wait. You’re worth it’ he confirmed quietly and you didn’t realise how much you needed to hear those words. ‘I mean I got to kiss you, that's more than enough for me. I’m just being greedy really’ he winked and your heart felt lighter as you both giggled.

‘You’re right, you need to be cut off’ you joked but when he lent down to kiss you again you let him.

y/n

liked by masonmount, ems35, lilyp28 and others

y/n Happy spooky season 🧡

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masonmount wow whoever took that first one has got a great eye 👀

y/n thank you my sulley 🩵💜

Going to Manchester to see him was the beginning of the end for you. You loved it up there and you loved your time with Mason just as much to the point you’d just sob the whole way home each time you had to leave him and you knew he was always just as down as you were about it. Each time it getting harder and harder to say goodbye so when next Halloween came and Mason wanted to celebrate your first anniversary together you jumped at the chance to spend some quality time with him.

Moving to Manchester after just a year of dating was a risk, and you both definitely knew it, but when Mason brought up wanting you to move in with him at your anniversary dinner you wanted to jump at the chance. You knew in your heart you were going to be with Mason for a really long time and the thought of starting your lives together up there really excited you. Your mum took it pretty hard but she knew you’d have to leave home eventually but neither of you could have guessed it would have been so far away.

You mostly worked from home in London anyway, only needing to visit the office twice a month so after a quick chat with your manager about different options, she told you keeping you was more important and that working in Manchester would be no different than London so she was happy for you to make the move.

Mason seemed to be the most excited. Letting you pick out any spare room you wanted to turn into your office and you picked the one at the back that overlooked the garden. The main reason being that in the summer you knew you’d be able to watch him training out of the window, but you told him it was because it was near the kitchen and downstairs loo so you didn’t have that far to walk.

It was lonely sometimes, spending all day at home on your own and when work was finally done not having anyone to talk to. At home at least your mum would be there so you could talk about your days as you fought over what to cook, but the house being empty did nothing to cure the ache of loneliness that would settle in your tummy until Mason was with you.

You hadn't been here long enough to make friends of your own and the ones you’d left behind did nothing to help you feel less lonely. Carrying on like you didn’t even exist and going to all your favourite places without you as well as new places you’d always wanted to try. You tried not to take it to heart too much as you didn’t want them to stop living their lives but you thought it was funny how as soon as you were gone they suddenly had time for all the things you wanted to do when they never had before.

Not wanting to be a grump for too much longer you quickly glanced at your phone when you were finally ready to get up. No text or update from him to let you know he was going to be home later than planned and usually it wouldn't have mattered but you thought with it being Valentine's Day he would have made a touch more effort as you were meant to be having dinner together. Your tummy hurt as your sadness migrated into every fiber of your being and you knew it wouldn’t be disappearing anytime soon.

All the lights were off when you eventually made your way out of your office. Traipsing through the silent house to the front so you could look out onto the drive, however it only upset you more to see that his car wasn’t there and suddenly you weren’t hungry anymore. Wanting nothing more than to get into bed so you could sleep this awful mood away, but there was something that stopped you as soon as you made it upstairs.

You noticed the warm glow coming from the bathroom as soon as you reached the landing. The door was ever so slightly cracked open and you knew you hadn't left it like that so the light confused you. In the end you took a few cautious steps over so you could peek around the gap and the sight before you made your heart flutter.

There was Mason, hunched over the bath as he swirled his hand around the soapy water that was topped with rose petals. The scent of your favourite bubble bath filling the air as he checked the water temperature before he was standing back up and reaching for a lighter so he could continue to light the candles he’d set up in a row on the window. Watching and waiting until he’d grabbed a fresh towel to place on the warmer until you couldn’t help but open the door a little more and step inside.

You felt instant regret as soon as you did. This was clearly meant to be a surprise for you and you’d just marched in on him but the smile he gave you after the initial shock of seeing you made your eyes sting and as your face began to crumple, he was over to you in a flash.

‘What’s wrong, boo?’ He asked softly. Hands holding the tops of your arms as you tried to wipe your eyes but it was pointless as more tears came falling seconds after.

‘I didn’t know you were h-home’ you hiccuped, sounding completely ridiculous as you broke down into sobs, but just like always he took you as you came and listened intently. ‘I t-thought you’d be late a-again’

‘Well I’m a lot later than I wanted to be’ he told you softly. ‘I only got in about five minutes ago’

‘Where’s y-your car?’

‘I got a fucking flat tire, didn’t I’ he laughed but you could tell he was pissed off underneath. ‘Had to leave it at training cause I couldn’t get anyone out to fix it and then Luke dropped me home’ he explained before his face softened again and his voice came out in just a whisper. ‘Baby, tell me what’s wrong’

‘Sorry’ you blubbed. Covering your face with your hands again so you could hide yourself and thankfully he knew not to try and make you look at him. Simply wrapping his arms around your shaking body so he could pull you into his and when you felt his lips on your forehead shushing you gently you nearly lost it again.

He always knew what you needed, and right now all you needed was a big cry whilst he held you and whispered that everything would be okay until you found enough courage to take your hands away from your face and wrap them around his body.

‘You think I can’t tell that something’s been going on with you?’ He whispered, pulling back to look at you but when he realised you weren’t budging he just rested his cheek on the top of your head with a sigh. ‘I notice everything, boo’

‘I’m sorry’ you croaked, not even too sure what you were apologising for but it just felt like the right thing to say for hiding your emotions from him.

‘Don’t say that’ he told you as he squeezed you a bit tighter but you still weren’t ready to look at him. Holding him back just as tight as he rubbed your back and you could feel the love from him pour into you. ‘You gonna tell me what’s up?’

‘I don’t know, I just feel a bit down’ you mumbled, shrugging your shoulders as you wondered what you should say to him but you realised there was no point giving him half truths. ‘I've just been a bit homesick I think, it gets lonely in this house when you’re not here and I know you’ve been working really hard to get back into the team but I thought you’d forgotten about me tonight’

‘I’m sorry’ he breathed. ‘I know I haven’t been around as much lately and I know that hasn't helped with how you’re feeling. That’s why I wanted to get home early so I could do something nice for you and I couldn't even get that right’ he laughed. ‘And I know you miss your family, I miss mine too so I know how you feel and I know I’ve been a bit wrapped up in myself but I promise I’ll make it up to you. Starting tonight, yeah?’

‘What’s all this?’ You asked, finally pulling away as you could look at him and the sympathetic look on his face almost set you off again, but Mason was quick to kiss your forehead and look at you softly again.

‘Well I thought you deserved a bit of relaxation while I cooked for us’ he confirmed. ‘Happy valentines, boo’

‘Happy valentine’s, Masey’ you smiled, reaching up to give him a soft and sweet kiss. ‘What are you making?’

‘I’m not sure yet’ he laughed. ‘Any requests?’

‘Well I was hoping you would stay with me in here, I’ve missed you’ you told him shyly. ‘We can always order food’

‘Yeah? Okay let’s do that’ he nodded shyly. ‘C’mere, let’s get you in’

Mason helped to undress you so you were ready for your bath. Kissing your skin gently as he carefully removed each piece of clothing and helped you into the perfectly warm water as you felt all your troubles melt away into the bubbles.

He happily sat on the floor next to you as you chatted away and you finally opened up to him about how your friends had been acting with you lately as well as everything else you’d already mentioned. He sympathised with you as he sometimes felt that way himself and apologised for neglecting you for the last few weeks.

‘Come get in with me?’ You asked after 15 minutes or so, watching his eyebrows raise in shock as his cheeks turned pink but now you’d said it all you could think about was relaxing your body into his.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah why not’ you laughed. ‘I wanna feel close to you’ you pouted and you could see his blush deepening from a mile off. Watching him gently standing up so he could whip his clothes off and you shuffled down the tub a bit so he could slide in behind you.

You didn’t ask for it, but as he began to massage your shoulders you could have melted into the water. You didn’t realise how uptight and tense you were until his fingers began to work away at your knots and it felt so good a shiver ran up your spine. The warm water of your bath felt like a safe blanket lapping against you and you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve this type of treatment.

‘That okay?’ He murmured into the side of your head but it was like you could barely string a sentence together and your whole body felt like it was floating.

‘That’s perfect’ you mumbled, feeling more relaxed and loved than you had in weeks and you knew he was laughing at you as you felt his chest rumble against your back.

‘I’m not very good at this, but I’ve picked up a few tricks from having them done so often’ he laughed but soon enough his hands were traveling down your arms and holding you around your waist so he could hold you close and talk to you without any distractions. ‘So listen I need you to pack a bag tonight’ he mumbled in your ear and you turned your head to look up at him questioningly.

‘Are you kicking me out?’

‘No’ he laughed. ‘But I bet after that you could do with a proper massage, right? Well I’ve booked us into a spa for the weekend with a slightly delayed valentines dinner tomorrow night. It’s in London though so we’ll have a bit of an early start if that’s okay’’

‘I thought we weren’t making a fuss’ you whispered, your face breaking out into a smile so wide your cheeks hurt but he was looking back at you so lovingly it was like you could feel him coursing through your veins.

‘I know, but you deserve it’ he affirmed. Kissing your forehead softly as he stroked his thumbs over your skin ‘Then Sunday we’ve got lunch with your parents. I organised it the other day so I think that’s worked out pretty well’ he winked, feeling tears well in your eyes again for the millionth time that night but this time it was for a whole different reason.

‘What? Really’

‘Yes’ he nodded. ‘I knew you must have been missing them and since we’ll be down there I thought we could make the most of it’

‘Thank you’ you gulped. Reaching up to kiss him properly and it was like you were having your first kiss all over again, carefully kissing each other like you had all the time in the world.

When you were both ready to get out, Mason jumped out first to grab your towel from the heater before walking you back over to your shared bedroom to get changed. A huge bunch of red roses on the bed waiting for you and you had to tell yourself to hold it together as you’d you’d done tonight was cry.

Mason grabbed you a pair of shorts and one of his favourite comfy tops that you loved to wear for you to change into and while he was putting in your food order, you grabbed an overnight bag and began to pack.

‘Where are we going for dinner tomorrow night, Mase?’ You questioned as you fingered through some of your nicer things on your rack but you didn’t want to be overdressed if it was somewhere more casual.

‘It’s a surprise’

‘But I need to know what to pack’ you pouted, hoping you’d be able to get a little more from him than that but he seemingly didn’t want to give too much away.

‘Something nice’ he shrugged, locking his phone before standing up to join you and you placed your hands on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

‘Those new pjs you got me for Christmas are nice, maybe I’ll just wear those’ you teased, hoping you could taunt him into telling you and from the way he rolled his eyes you knew it was working.

‘Okay fine’ he laughed. ‘You should pack that black dress, you know the one you’ve been saving for a certain restaurant’

‘You didn’t’ you breathed, not knowing if he was just messing with you or if he’d actually got the pair of you into the restaurant you’d always wanted to try but from the nod of his head you knew he was making your dream come true. ‘Mase’

‘I know you were meant to go there with your girlfriends and I know I was meant to get you a table and never did cause I’m a rubbish boyfriend and I forgot’ he laughed, bumping his nose against yours as you both giggled before his face got serious ‘but I know they’ve been trying all the places you wanted without you so I thought we could keep this one just for us’

‘Thank you’ you pouted, reaching up to kiss him gently and he deepened it straight away. You hadn’t kissed each other like this in days and you could have quite easily taken it further but it was Mason who pulled away first much to your dismay.

‘Easy there, boo. We’ve got food on the way and there’s nowhere near enough time for me to do what I want with you’ he told you lowly, his voice thick and warm like honey and it made your insides quiver. ‘I’ll make it worth your while if you wait’

‘You always do’ you winked and you noticed how he blushed at your words.

‘Come on boo, we’ll go set the table yeah? Eat like proper humans for a change’ he laughed as he took your hand and you laughed along with him as he led you out of your room. Your mood a lot lighter than it was just over an hour ago and you couldn’t wait to finally spend your first Valentine’s Day under the same roof with the boy you loved most in the world.

y/n

liked by masonmount and others

y/n quick trip home for some well needed downtime and a visit to somewhere I’ve always wanted to go with my valentine ♥️

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masonmount anything for my girl ♥️

y/n love you sm 🥰 🤭

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bratbarzal · 1 day ago

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maggie i’m going a bit off-script here, but for your valentine’s blurbs can i request ³⁾ “has it occurred to you that we’ve spent more valentine’s days with each other than with people we’ve actually been dating?” with quinn — but plot twist, he thought you were passed the just friends phase. just a little awkward & flustered quinn vday moment 💌

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

3. “has it occurred to you that we’ve spent more valentine’s days with each other than with people we’ve actually been dating?” we love awkward and flustered quinn in this house!!!

"I can't do this anymore," Quinn grumbles out of nowhere as the two of you are on his couch, drawing your attention from the dimmed screen of your phone to watch him pinch at the bridge of his nose and kick the throw that is draped over both of your lower bodies.

"Can't do what?" You frown, tilting your head to watch the theatrics, the blanket falling from your own lap into a tangled mess on the floor.

"Sit here and do nothing. I'm sick of doing nothing. You're driving me crazy, is this like, some sort of power thing? Are you seriously not even gonna acknowledge what's going on here?"

"What's-," You literally have no idea what the hell has gotten into him. "Going on? Quinn, what are you even talking about? When did you get all antsy and weird?"

"Uh, I don't know," he retorts, narrowing his eyes in your general direction, not quite able to meet yours. "Maybe when you started giggling at your phone and acting like this is any normal day? I get trying to convince yourself that this is no different to all the other times, it's what I kept telling myself to calm down earlier, considering we've been technically doing this," he gestures around the two of you, "For the past few years now, but I thought this time was different. I want it to be different."

"What do you mean by that?" You frown, pushing your phone under the pillow you're leaning on, shuffling a little where your legs are tucked beneath you on the couch and watching as he stands, arms thrown out in irritation as he turns back to you, swiping quickly where the blanket is bunched up and an inevitable trip hazard and throwing it over the back of the couch.

"Alright, has it ever occurred to you that the two of us have spent more Valentine's Days with each other than with the people we've actually been dating?"

You stare blankly at him for a second, mouth agape as you register what he's actually talking about, before you clear your throat with a hand to your mouth as Quinn stares back, waiting for a response, eyes narrowed as his patience wears thin. "It's Valentines Day? Today?"

He's right - for as long as you've lived in the same building as Quinn over the past few years, the two of you have spent the day together, making a tradition of it, even when you'd had boyfriends and he'd had girlfriends, somehow always finding yourselves in distant relationships with people who travelled or just plain didn't care.

Quinn's door was always open to you - even on days saved specifically for romance, even if the two of you had never even considered crossing that line.

You know you've been a little distracted with work lately, but surely you'd have heard about it being Valentines Day sooner than now. You reach back for your phone just to check, and sure as anything on your homescreen is the date - Friday, February 14th.

Crap.

You've literally spent the past twenty minutes texting your group chat, following along on the boozy girls night you had turned down in order to spend another night in with Quinn. A night you hadn't given a second thought to, as the two of you have been hanging out more and more, lately - him slotting you in pretty much any and every time he's free.

And now it makes sense - they're doing Galentines.

Double crap.

"Oh my God," he runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, that one thick strand you always thought was a cool stylistic choice bouncing straight back into place across his forehead - because of course it just naturally does that. "I can't tell if you're just oblivious or I'm a complete idiot."

"Maybe it's a secret third option?" You offer, standing from the couch and taking a cautious step towards his now pacing figure.

"Don't be cute," he glares back at you, "I'm really not in the mood right now for you to be cracking jokes, I'm embarrassed enough-,"

"Embarrassed?" You frown, taking another step, "Why would you be embarrassed?"

"Because I thought this was a date," he jabs a finger into his chest before pointing it back in your direction, "And you thought it was any other Friday night."

"Oh."

"Yeah," he huffs.

"That is embarrassing."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, spinning on his feet and starting to make his way over to the kitchen before you panic and grab at his wrist, tugging him back with a little more effort than you're used to - because Quinn Hughes is nothing if not stubborn when he wants to be.

"Wait," you pout, trying to meet his avoidant gaze as he looks at anything but you, jaw set and body angled away. "Why did you think it was a date?"

"What is this, a humiliation ritual?" he scoffs, "I thought it was obvious. I asked you over. For dinner. I cooked! When you walked in here I was wearing an apron, for crying out loud! There's flowers on the table," he hooks a thumb over to where the two of you had eaten - sat across from one another at his small dining table, for once, instead of on the couch or the breakfast bar, places set before you even got there. A small vase with gerbera daisies and a little ribbon around the rim. "And I'm wearing a shirt. In my own home." You cast your eyes down, to the way the buttons are popped at the top, a small sliver of his chest peaking through - and it feels like the first time you're really taking him in.

Not even tonight, but maybe ever.

It's not like you've never thought Quinn was hot - he's gorgeous, Mike Wazowski in a blindfold could see that - but there's always been a barrier there, like a cartoonish, pixelated sort of blur that hides him from full view, unlocked only by some costly subscription with life changing terms and conditions that you could never be bothered reading.

And you might have struck him off, until now - until he stood before you with a pouty bottom lip and a mortified flush to his cheeks - and he all of a sudden doesn't look like someone who could never be more than a friend.

Especially when you consider that maybe he's been thinking about crossing that line.

In a new light, he looks like someone who goes the extra mile, who gets you flowers and cooks you your favourite pasta dish, buys your favourite wine, puts an effort into his appearance to distinguish between all the times you've seen each other in sweatpants and actively listens to your dumb stories about office politics and teams meeting etiquette - like it ties in at all to any part of his world.

He sighs, heavy and resigned, and you see his chest deflate where your eyes are locked on it, catching the subtle shake of his head in your peripheral as you take too long to respond.

"Look, I kinda feel like an idiot, so maybe it's better if we just-,"

It's the tug of his wrist that spurs you into action, and you let it drop - too eager to grab him elsewhere, like by the front of his soft, pretty shirt - pulling him in by the collar and pressing your lips firmly to his.

You worry for all of three seconds until his fingertips dig pointedly into your hips, guiding you forward until you're a little closer, and they can slide further back. Your own hands move higher, touching skin now - curling around the back of his neck to bury themselves in his hair, pushing at his head to better meet where you're angled up to kiss him.

He purrs almost at the feeling, a hum of satisfaction that's spoken straight into your lips, and it almost distracts you from the way his touch wanders, one hand sliding up the back of your shirt and the other hand sliding lower.

You hum back at the firm press of his palm into the small of your back - his hand warm and his touch soothing, your shoulders loosening until all the tension seeps from your body, and you start to feel like you're floating.

Or falling.

You part slowly - of equal volition, you think - your eyes opening to see Quinn's screwed shut, and you take the second he keeps them that way to feel a flush of pride at the soft pink tint that has taken to his lips.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, barely above a whisper, when he finally opens his eyes and flashes you that darkened gaze, where it darts between your own eyes and your lips in a tantalising triangle.

He clears his own throat then, blinking hard and purposefully, and licking at his swollen lips.

"For what?" he asks, breathless, his hands still in the exact same places, thumb swiping at the dip in your spine and the fingers of his other hand temptingly close to crossing the curve of your ass - confident more in his touch than he seems to be with anything else.

"For wearing sweatpants to our date," you huff, embarrassed yourself, because even if you hadn't known the implications of him asking you over for dinner, why couldn't you have at least put on something nice. "Now I get why you looked at me so funny when you opened the door, earlier."

He laughs then, slow and easy, his smile crooked and his eyes a melting kind of warm.

"I'll forgive you if I can change into mine."

"Deal," you nod, lips twisting as you take him in - those barriers, that pixelated blur, animating into something crystal clear and definite, something you can't believe you haven't given yourself the pleasure of seeing until now. "I'm sorry for being oblivious, too."

"It's alright," he shrugs, "I'm sure there's some way you can make it up to me."

And you're still standing with your arms resting on his shoulders and your hands behind his neck - the prime position to lean up and kiss him again.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #.ve #💌.valentinesevent #*writing #4th valentines blurb in and finally a kiss look at me go!!!!#I'm so bad at endings tho lmao

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elderwisp · 3 days ago

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◁ || ▷

[ light rattling ]

Frances: The hell?

Frances: Christ. Atlas. Atlas! Wake up!

Atlas: Hmm? Oh! Hello you.

Frances: Found you.

Atlas: Good job but you never really needed me to tell you that.

Frances: Are you sober?

Atlas: Definitely coming down, that’s for sure.

Atlas: [ rustling ]

Frances: You decent?

Atlas: [ snorts ] Sure. What? Did you want some? Should have told me sooner since I’m empty.

Frances: You promised me this would stop. That was our deal.

Atlas: Promises are such a big commitment for something with such little return. I need something consistent, something I know.

Frances: Did he really mess you up that badly?

Atlas: Don’t.

Frances: Because everything changed when he came into our lives.

Atlas: Stop.

Frances: You can’t even acknowledge him because you know it’s true.

Atlas: Stop it.

Frances: ROWAN! His name was Rowan and he ruined everything!

Atlas: Ruined everything?! Hah… Hahaha! No, no you’re wrong-

Frances: You’re so delusional you can’t even see it. Of course you can't, how could you?

Atlas: Get out.

Frances: I am trying to help you!

Atlas: I said get out-

She grabs him by the shoulders

Frances: Were we not enough? Was I never enough? I’ve been here the entire time! All he ever did was leave you! I... I shouldn’t have said that.

Atlas: [ voice breaks ] oh god…

Frances: Hey. No, no. I’m sorry.

Atlas: [ whispers ] He didn’t ruin me, he only set me free.

Frances: This is the price of freedom?

Atlas: No, this is the price of a heartbreak. This part is my fault.

Frances: You can’t keep blaming yourself.

Atlas: What makes you think I was in the right?

Frances: Because you’re my brother. I know you.

Atlas: [ small huff ] And you should know you can’t change a thing.

Frances: I can. You’re going to get better. You have to.

Atlas: How naive do you have to be to believe it’s a choice? I-

Frances: Are you ready to lose it all?

Atlas: … Say what you came here to say, Frances.

Frances: I don’t want this to be the rest of our lives. This has to be the last time. It needs to. [ pauses ] It needs to be or else I’m done.

?: [ hurried knocking ]

Frances: You expecting someone?

Atlas: Trouble.

Frances: What?

?: [ banging ] I know you’re in there Atlas! Open the fucking door!

Frances: What did you do?

Atlas: You should… Stay here. Don’t come out until I say so.

#leave. lose. lost. such powerful words for one person to handle.#SO #i won't say much except for this #there is intention behind nearly every line in this scene #whether it's how atlas sees frances how frances sees atlas #how both process the world and what it means to be on same coin just a dif side #the coin being expectations and realities #such a good (well not for them) conversation to write and it won't be the last #we'll see how this flashback ends in a few weeks but back to the present for a bit #tessellate #tessellate: atlas #tessellate: frances #tw: drug addiction #tw: alcohol #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 story #sims community

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 24 hours ago

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A DC X DP IDEA #43

Stitches

Imagine dis…

I was just cleaning my room when I came across an old stuffed toy of mine. It is full of stitches like an amateur trying surgery for the first time and flopping it. I just remembered sewing my stuffed toy together as a kid. Like I was playing on them too harshly or one of my younger siblings got a hold of it and roughed it all up. So when I noticed my mom had no time to help me stitch my toy, I did it myself and the results varied…

…

John Constantine, aka the Laughing Magician, wasn’t an idiot. A drunk? Absolutely. A smoker? You bet. Had the worst bloody taste in romantic or sexual partners? Well, that’s a given. But an idiot? Not a chance. He knew, better than most, that the world he lived in was held together by nothing more than spit, lies, and a hell of a lot of bloody stubbornness.

But lately, something felt off…

Every time some wanker in a bright-colored cape and spandex punched, both literally and figuratively, through time or ripped an open hole to another dimension, it began as if reality was fixing itself.

He still remembered the bloody heart attack he nearly had the first time he read those sodding reports on time travel and dimension hopping. The second his eyes skimmed over the first few lines, he buggered off without so much as a goodbye, diving headfirst into the mess to sniff out whatever godawful consequences those spandex-clad pillocks had left in their wake. So imagine his surprise when, after dragging his sorry arse across the whole damn world, he found… nothing.

Not a damn thing.

No lingering paradoxes, no dangerous tears leaking out eldritch nightmares. It wasn’t natural. And anything unnatural coming from the bastard that split his soul like some two-bit, overachieving Voldemort, made his skin crawl.

So, like any poor sod with a knack for bad decisions and a bloody inconvenient conscience, he followed the ripples.

And that’s how he ended up standing in the inky void between worlds, a cig hanging off his lips, watching some scrawny teenager go to the fabric of reality that was torn apart by yet another one of those bloody spandex-wearing tossers, with a needle, like the universe had personally pissed in his pint.

The kid sat cross-legged in the void, stabbing his bloody needle through the fabric of space-time, and from the looks of it he was fueled by nothing but caffeine and a serious dose of spite. The thread he was using was bright blue, flickering with silver and white specks. Like tiny stars in each thread. Each stitch yanked the frayed edges of existence together, a bit rougher than necessary, like he was pissed off at the whole damn universe.

Constantine blew out a long stream of smoke, taking in the mess around him with a grimace. A sorry bloody sight, that’s for sure.

The kid had already clocked the audience, rolling his eyes so hard it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. He didn’t even bother with a glance, clearly unimpressed.

The kid introduced himself as Danny, then stretched out another few feet of thread and got back to stitching, like he hadn’t a care in the world.

The kid, Danny, if Constantine heard right, grunted, clearly unimpressed. He didn’t stop working, shoulders hunched in exhaustion like he’d been doing this for far too long. The whole cosmic janitor routine: they rip holes, he stitches 'em up. Same old, same old.

Bloody typical.

Constantine crouched down, eyeing the erratic stitching with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. This wasn’t normal, not by a long shot.

Danny let out a sharp, humorless laugh, clearly fed up. He jabbed the needle into a particularly stubborn tear with all the force of someone who'd had enough. The sarcasm practically dripped from him. Seems he was well and truly done with his unglamorous role in this cosmic mess.

Constantine felt a prickle of unease, the kind that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He didn’t need to ask, but he did anyway.

What happens if you stop?

Danny’s response was all sarcasm and sass, if there was any doubt left, it was gone now. He didn’t even need to elaborate. The answer was bloody obvious if the kid, Danny, ever stopped stitching.

Danny snorted, flashing Constantine a wicked grin, all teeth and mischief. The kind of smile that made his gut twist.

Ah. Bugger.

Constantine didn’t need a bloody prophecy to know what that meant. If the kid stopped, the world wouldn’t just fall apart it would unravel, slow and steady, like a seamstress unpicking stitches, one by one, until nothing was left. And worse? There’d be no afterlife waiting to catch the poor sods caught in the collapse. No heaven, no hell, no second chances. Just the abyss, swallowing everything whole. No way in. No way out.

Now Constantine was scrambling, doing everything in his power to keep the kid from buggering off while there were still holes left to patch. And, just as importantly, making sure those spandex-clad pillocks finally got the memo, no more bloody time travel or dimension-hopping shenanigans.

The kid must’ve clocked what he was up to because, without a word, he handed Constantine a green-glowing bat with “Creepstick” printed on the side. He didn’t think much of it at first up until, after one particularly miserable day, he swung the thing in frustration and accidentally clocked Superman, who had just been reaching out to ask if he was alright.

For a second, Constantine felt guilty. Then he remembered that the Kryptonian had probably punched more holes in reality than anyone else. That guilt? Gone. Replaced by pure, unfiltered glee.

With renewed purpose, he set his sights on the next offender, the red spandex speedster responsible for most of the timeline’s headaches. The rest of the heroes caught on quickly that he was on some kind of unholy warpath. So when he casually knocked the Man of Steel on his arse with a single swing and grinned like a serial killer who’d just found his next victim, they did the smart thing they got the hell out of his way.

Some of the ones with super-hearing overheard his next target: one of the Flashes.

Constantine knew damn well he wasn’t getting into any afterlife, but for fuck’s sake, if they didn’t stop tearing holes in the bloody universe, none of them would have a place to go. No heaven, no hell just the abyss waiting to swallow them whole. And he wasn’t about to let that happen on his watch.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: I tried using Constantine POV throughout the entire prompt and as you can see that I over did at the Brit slang.

PPPS: Though, how did I do?….

#dc x dp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #ghost king danny #john constantine

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ckret2 · 2 days ago

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due to stuff involving a goat, the only thing that can save the pines family is sticking bill cipher in a cute dress, doing weird 70's things to his hair, slapping makeup on him, and sending him to flirt with a government agent

and if that ain't a setup for a chapter i don't know what is

anyway here's chapter 86 of this thing.

####

"Something about this is just wrong," Stan said. "It isn't natural."

"Oh, I don't know," Ford said, grinning. "I think it's funny."

Without looking over, trying not to move his lips, Bill said, "I'd like to see you do better."

It was still a few minutes until the Mystery Shack opened for the day, and he and Mabel were sitting in the kitchen, with Bill miserably wearing a mis-buttoned Hawaiian shirt so he wouldn't mess up his makeup when he changed into his flirting uniform. The makeup supplies Pacifica had sent them home with yesterday were spread out on the kitchen table, and they were collaboratively trying to remember how to recreate the look Pacifica had given Bill yesterday. Thus far, they'd managed moisturizer and foundation and were debating the finer points of concealer color theory.

"I didn't say it's bad," said Ford, whose opinions on makeup only fell into three categories: obviously hideous; fine, I guess; and potentially magical sigils for ritual purposes. "It's just bizarre watching you care about it."

Bill mumbled, "I'm blending in with the Nacirema." Ford barked a laugh. (About time somebody got it.)

Stan elbowed Ford. "What's a Nacirema?"

"It's— There's this phenomenon in anthropology— I'll explain it later."

Stan grumbled to himself about the nerds enabling each other, then said, "Hey. When you do the lipstick, don't make it look too good. If it looks too good, he'll assume you're out of his league and get suspicious when you start hitting on him. I never trust attention from a lady whose lipstick isn't at least a little cakey."

Offended, Mabel said, "Grunkle Stan, I'm an artiste! I can't do a bad job on purpose!"

Bill said, "It doesn't matter! Once I get my seduction hat on, he won't even glance at my face." He poked the top hat sitting on the kitchen table.

"Oh, no you don't," Stan said. "Hat's gotta go, it's too tall. Guys hate it when their dates are taller than them."

"What?!" Bill stared at Stan, aghast. "You've gotta be insane! The hat's essential—"

"Hold still!" Mabel poked his neck with the butt of a makeup brush.

He reluctantly gave up and turned to face her again, but not without muttering to himself, "Can't wear a seduction hat, can't stick my hand in a goat's stomach acid, god forbid women do anything."

Last night's hunt for Gompers had been an abysmal failure—Dipper and Mabel had never even glimpsed him. This morning, beneath the banter, there was a somber air in the room; the household was trying not to think about the fact that their collective safety was resting on Bill's ability to seem appealing to a normal man in spite of the fact that they were having a conversation, and he wasn't even able to convincingly pretend he had a plan.

Dipper was trying to get breakfast around Bill and Mabel. Once Mabel had puffed on a layer of setting powder, Bill twisted around to give Dipper an unnecessarily wide smile. "Hey! How do I look?"

He glanced up from pouring a bowl of cereal and grimaced. "Somehow even less like a real human than usual."

Bill laughed. "Yep, it's the lack of pores." He turned away to check his mirror as he applied his mascara.

Mabel said, "He'll look better once we get the lipstick on."

Soos ducked in from the living room. "Hey, uh, guys?" It was clear he'd been as distracted that morning as the rest of them; he'd misbuttoned his suit jacket. "I just saw the government dudes' car again. Like, in the parking lot this time, not lurking down the street."

The energy in the air changed, like a subtle electric current shooting through the room. "Okay, enough gawking at the freak show," Stan said. "Ford?"

"Right!" He grabbed up his coffee mug, re-thought it, and poured the mug back in the coffee pot and picked up the pot instead, then bolted from the kitchen. He returned a moment later with his arms loaded with his journal, several books, and a couple of guns that would definitely be illegal on Earth if Earth had ever heard they existed. "Basement."

Bill turned toward the doorway so fast Mabel almost smeared lipstick across his cheek. Basement? He hoped Ford meant his study. If they went all the way to the basement, and noticed that somebody had been moving around the rubble of the portal...

"Bill!" Mabel said.

"I know, I know." He turned back to her again.

A final line, and Mabel sighed in relief. "Okay, you're good."

Stan rummaged through the fridge for the first thing he could find to sustain himself and Ford for the day. "Hey, demon. Remember everything I taught you."

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. "Don't claim I have a job he can fact-check, don't pretend I make more money than him unless I want him to invite me to a fancy restaurant and pretend he forgot his wallet, if he asks my age I'm fifteen years younger than him, my human family lives across the country, I don't have any sisters that might be prettier, and there's nothing I wanna hear about more than World War 2 battle tactics or vintage car repair or whatever hobby he's picked up to make himself feel more masculine."

"And?" Mabel prompted.

"And my favorite animal is cats, my favorite color is pink, my favorite flavor is chocolate, my favorite film genre is not slapstick snuff, my favorite time to get married is next week, and my favorite body part on a partner is their eyes still inside their sockets, but if I specify the socket part it'll worry him."

"Right! Gold star!" She smacked a sticker onto his shirt.

Stan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Knock 'im dead," he said. "Not literally. Unless you're sure the other two won't catch you."

"I'll see what I can do," Bill said.

####

The three agents eyed the sign that had been set up outside the Mystery Shack's main door. It said, "Self-guided tour today! $15" and there was a cardboard box taped beneath with a slit cut in the lid.

Agent Dale said, "Do you think that's for us?"

"Probably not," Trigger said uncertainly. "We have a warrant."

"Huh." Dale reread the sign, then tentatively rummaged through his pocket for his wallet and pulled out three fives. Trigger pushed his hand back down.

Soos ran around the side of the shack, breathing heavily. "Oh, wow! What a... totally random coincidence... running into you guys again..." He put his hands on his knees, huffing. "Gimme a sec. I was... running pretty fast... for no reason."

"Mr. Ramirez," Powers said. He held out a search warrant. "We're here to search this building for missing government property."

"Oh, dude, that's crazy," Soos said. "Do you like, have evidence that this property is in the building? Like, I don't know, any kind of... signal that it's giving off, maybe? That confirms it's here?"

Powers turned to Dale. He pulled his tablet out to check. "Uhhh... negative, sir. We're nnnot detecting the signal we picked up yesterday."

Powers frowned. "Hmm."

Trigger said, "Maybe the signal's... on the fritz?"

"Good point," Powers said. "We'd better search anyway. Dale, you start in the museum; Trigger, come with me to the back. I'll interview Mr. Ramirez." He gave Soos a sharp look. "And I hope you'll have more to say today than that you don't know anything."

Soos swallowed hard.

####

From the living room couch, Soos called to Trigger, "Be careful with the stuff in here, okay? This old shack's full of priceless antiques and authentic exotic curios. I glued half of them together myself!"

"So." Powers took a seat in one of the armchairs, opened an unlabeled manila folder and propped it on his knee, and clicked out a retractable pen. "Jesús Ramirez, correct? You prefer 'Soos'?"

"Yep, that's right," Soos said. "When I started school, my cousin Reggie, he'd yell at me across the cafeteria to sit with him, like, 'Jesús!' But some of the kids in my grade thought he was saying, 'hey, Soos!' And it stuck."

Powers nodded slowly. "I... see. And, you're the head of the household."

"Yup! That's me!"

"Property records say that the house is owned by 'Stanford Pines'?"

"Uhhh, yeah," Soos said. "He kinda, stepped down as head of the house, unofficially, and I'm running the house now. Also the business."

"And where is Stanford Pines right now?"

"Oh, he's out." (They had agreed that under no circumstances could the agents talk to Stan, lest something from last summer come up; and they definitely couldn't talk to the real Stanford Pines, whom they already knew as a mysterious superior officer from Washington.)

"When will he be back?"

Soos hesitated. "Ooout of the country. World traveling. Yeah, haha, he's been doing that for the past year with his brother."

Powers flipped a couple pages forward in his file. "His brother Sherman? Who lives in New Jersey?"

"No no, his other brother."

His other brother who died thirty years ago?"

Soos paused. "Uhhh..."

Dale ducked into the living room. "Sirs—I've found something interesting. You have to come see this."

Powers got to his feet, closing his folder and tucking it under his arm. "Excuse me." He followed his agents.

Soos heaved a sigh of relief.

"Wow, Questiony,—you were this close to collapsing like a house of cards."

Bill sauntered down the stairs. He was in a dress covered in yellowy-orangey triangles that managed, for the first time all summer, to reveal that he did in fact have curves, and he'd grabbed a set of green triangular clip-on earrings from Mabel's jewelry. A gold star sticker had been stuck on one of the earrings. Soos thought it was kinda weird to look at him all dressed up, with hair and everything. Bill looked like if Bill had a sister.

"Man," Soos said, slumping back into the couch. "I don't know if I can take another round of that. They're using some kind of government interrogation mind tricks."

"Relax," Bill said. "I'll take it from here."

He shut one eye and shot Soos a pair of finger guns as he backed into the gift shop, and twirled around to go pursue his prey.

####

Dale jogged through the gift shop, nodding to a couple of tourists as he passed—"Morning, ladies"—and ducked through the "employees only" door. A moment later, all three agents jogged into the museum. An older woman asked, "Why are so many handsome men in suits running around?"

As Bill let himself into the gift shop, he said, "Secret government agents! They're here investigating a conspiracy."

"Oh my," the woman gushed. "Isn't that exciting!"

"They'll only be here today! See if you can get their autographs!" Bill leaned on the front counter. "Hey, nice to see you back. You were missed yesterday."

Melody gave him an irritated look from behind the register.

"Surprised you came in, after how you felt yesterday!" In part because Soos was attempting to get as many people away from the shack and out of the danger zone as possible. He'd told Wendy she could take the day off, he'd persuaded Abuelita to go visit Reggie and his wife, and he'd tried to talk the kids into hanging out somewhere else for the day and only relented when they argued that their plucky 13-year-old adventuring expertise could be useful if things took a turn for the worse. Surely, he'd asked his fiancée to stay home too; strange that she hadn't. "Word is you're having trouble sleeping. Bad dreams? If it is, I could help you out. I happen to be an expert on—"

"I don't want your help." Her voice was a lot more venomous than Bill had expected.

He blinked in surprise. He knew she wasn't his biggest fan, but that seemed unnecessarily hostile. "Whoa, just offering! Don't bite my head off. Those don't grow back."

Melody sighed. "Sorry," she said insincerely, looking away from him. "I just... This whole plan bothers me. Flirting with some poor guy just to distract him."

Don't lie to a liar, girl. Something else was bothering her. Still, Bill only said, "Do you have a better plan?"

"Yeah? Just don't do anything suspicious and make sure Gompers stays away from the shack until the agents get bored and leave."

Bill scoffed. "And if they don't get bored?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Why would they? This town's got gnomes, fairies, and a crashed spaceship."

"Well—yeah, but, that's not a reason to focus on the shack."

"Never underestimate what the government will chuck tax dollars at without a good reason!"

Melody huffed, "Okay, fine. I still don't like it."

Yeah, Bill bet she didn't. Especially with the Bureau of Covert Investigations here looking for someone dangerous.

Okay—he'd given the eagles enough of a head start for it to look natural when he casually bumped into them. He straightened up, stretched, and sauntered toward the museum's curtain. "I won't ask you to wish me luck—" he lifted one wrist toward Melody and shook the bracelet covered in evil eye beads that Mabel had given him, "—just don't wish me ill." And then he followed the agents into the museum.

####

"Here it is," Dale said, stopping. "What do you make of this?"

He was standing in front of the museum's taxidermy Sascrotch display.

Trigger covered his mouth, trying to hold back a snort of laughter.

Dale grinned. "It's pretty great, right?"

Powers looked the Sascrotch up and down. "I don't get it."

"Heeey, secret agent man!" Bill swept into the museum and leaned against the wall, head propped against his hand, other hand on his cocked hip. "Imagine meeting you three days in a row, what a coincidence! I'm starting to feel like you're following me around."

Powers looked at Bill—and then started a little. (Not used to seeing him with his eyes emphasized properly, no doubt.) His cheeks immediately turned pink. Flustered, he stammered awkwardly for a moment before getting out, "I—I—Pardon me, I can assure you, you're not under investigation—" Dale and Trigger exchanged a glance and tried not to grin.

"Hey, whoa! I didn't mean it in a bad way." He flashed Powers his best smile. (He'd practiced in the mirror. Mabel had given him tips on not making it too wide.) "Say, since I was lucky enough to see you again, I've got a question for you, secret agent man."

"Yes?"

Bill batted his long, gorgeous lashes at Powers. "Do you believe in love at first sight, or am I gonna have to arrange a fourth meeting?"

"Uhh." Powers's already stellar posture somehow found a way to straighten a little bit more. "The first three times were more than sufficient, ma'am."

"Haha, you charmer!" All right, maybe Mabel had had a point about not opening up with a line about eyeballs. Still, this would be a cinch. Bill had been manipulating humans for millennia, and flirting was no different. Slipping into this role felt natural. He was in his element. He was good at this. He'd have this guy eating out of his hand in an hour.

Dale and Trigger looked at each other again, and Dale said, "Sir, maybe Trigger and I should search the house. You can take the museum."

"Maybe you could interview the locals," Trigger threw in, before they beat a hasty retreat.

"Ho—hold on!" Powers said; but his agents had already abandoned him. What terrific wingmen. Not the best agents, maybe.

"Sooo," Bill said, "if you aren't here to see me, what brings you by this old dump of a tourist trap again? It can't be the displays." He tugged out the waistband of Sascrotch's briefs with a finger and let go, letting it snap back against its waist; a small cloud of dust puffed out of the fur. "Still looking for some dangerous character?"

"No, not at the moment. Nothing you need to worry about," Powers said. "We're here looking for some... sensitive objects?"

"Oh? What kind of sensitive objects?" Bill asked. "I've been to this little tourist trap a few times, maybe I can help find 'em?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."

"What, you don't think you can trust me?" Bill batted his lashes. That had been working pretty well for him so far. (The mascara had to be helping. Man, was he glad to have mascara again.)

Powers avoided making eye contact. "I"m sure you're very trustworthy. But—it would be an embarrassment to the bureau, you understand."

"Sure! Sure." Billl's smile wilted slightly. "Well—I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I just watch, would you? I've never seen a real federal investigation in action—seems exciting."

Powers hesitated, his professionalism warring with his very obvious crush. "I... suppose I wouldn't mind." Sure, like he wasn't utterly flattered.

As Powers's inspection took him around the museum and back into the gift shop, he said, "You said your name was Goldie? I don't think I ever got your last name."

Oh he'd better not be planning on a background check. "It's Locke—and yes, I've already heard every comment about it you can imagine."

Powers gave him a quizzical look. "I believe you told us to inform Mr. Gleeful that a 'Mr. Locke' had recommended we purchase a car from him?"

He had said that, hadn't he. If he'd known two days ago he'd have to femme up for this guy... "Sure! I happen to be related to a lot of Mr. Lockes!" Before Powers could pry into this family Bill had just invented, he hurried on: "Say, I never got your name, did I!" Did he? Since he already knew it, he couldn't remember if he'd bothered to ask.

"Of course—I'm Agent Powers."

"Is 'Agent' your first name, handsome?"

Powers flushed a little more, and he mumbled, "Manny."

"Manny Powers?" Bill casually slid between Powers and the vending machine to keep him from looking too close at it. "Like, 'manpower'?"

"Precisely," Powers said. "Obviously, that's... not my real name, just my assigned codename for field assignments."

Bill laughed, "Hey, not bad! 'Manpower,' that's pretty funny."

"Is it?" Powers asked. "Hm. It isn't supposed to be. I'll have to speak with HQ about that."

Bill pressed his lips together. Tell him he's funny, Bill! Guys love it when you tell them how funny they are! Last time hetook advice from a human on anything. He shot an exasperated look toward Melody, who winced in what he hoped was sympathy.

Trigger ducked into the gift shop. "Sir? I think we've found something. Really, this time."

Powers's attention snapped to him. "Show me."

Bill maintained his position until the agents were gone; and then he let out a long, frustrated sigh. He glanced at Melody. "How are we doing?"

She grimaced. "I'd give it... three out of five stars?"

"You're generous, I appreciate that." He nearly rubbed his eyelids in irritation, and only the sight of his red fingernails reminded him of his makeup in time to stop.

In his heart of hearts, Bill felt like he should have already won by now—but then, he'd always hated waiting for things. Usually he could force patience on himself by finding a peephole that would let him see further into the future so he could tell exactly when his latest plan would succeed. In this body, he couldn't see any farther than a few minutes, and he didn't have any eyes he could look through but his own. Like this, he didn't even know whether he'd succeed.

Except of course he would. Of course. He always did. He didn't need to check. He had until the agents left to make some real progress, and that was plenty of time. He'd figure this out.

He almost backed into the living room, remembered at the last second that he didn't want Melody to know about his door ignoring trick, and said flatly, "Door." Melody reluctantly left her station to help open it.

In the living room, Dale was standing on top of the table, which he'd dragged over in front of the TV, and attempting to pry a board out of the ceiling with a crowbar. He asked Soos, "You're sure you don't have a stepladder somewhere?"

"Uh-uh," Soos said. He was hovering in the doorway, wringing his hands together. "It's against the house rules."

"We picked up a faint radio signal," Trigger explained to Powers. "Like from a walkie-talkie with a dying battery, or..."

"Ah-ha!" Dale pulled a gray blocky object out of a space over the ceiling. It appeared to be a radio: it had an antenna, a speaker, a couple of glowing lights flickering on the brink of going out... and a large Bureau of Covert Investigations seal stamped on the front. The eagle peering through the magnifying glass seemed as surprised to see them as they were to see it. "Is... is this one of our transmitters?"

Powers blinked at it in amazement. "What in the Sam Hill is one of our transmitters doing in this building!" He directed the question toward Soos.

Soos flinched. "How should I know, I didn't know this place was bugged! I would've unbugged it if I knew." He paused. "Unless that's a federal crime or something. In which case forget I said that."

"We're the guys that oughta know about it," Dale said, shrugging cluelessly. "Since it's one of ours. Weird."

Powers held his hand out for the transmitter, examined it, and turned it over. On the back a strip of black label-maker tape read, "GOVERNMENT PROPERTY! IF LOST, PLEASE RETURN TO AGENT TRIGGER."

Powers and Dale turned to Trigger.

He looked between them, baffled. "Wh— Well, I didn't put it there! I would've remembered putting it there." He frowned. "I mean... I should remember putting it there."

Powers's lips were pressed so flat together they were almost invisible beneath his mustache. "Well. Obviously, we ought to take it back."

Tentatively, Dale asked, "And... place a new one with a fresh battery, sir?"

Powers's brows drew together in anger. Between gritted teeth, he said, "Not with the civilians listening to you say so..."

Soos was still standing in the doorway, and Dipper and Mabel were peering around him from the staircase. Melody had peeked in nervously from the gift shop. At the callout, the kids and Melody had the grace to withdraw again. But Powers wasn't looking at them. He was glancing sideways toward Bill, standing right by his side—and Bill's wide-eyed gaze never wavered from Powers's face.

This wasn't good—they did not need the agents trying to figure out why they might have left a bug in the shack. Damage control time. "Hey," Bill said. "if you forgot about it completely, must not have picked up anything interesting, right? Otherwise you'da remembered it!"

All three agents' faces immediately darkened and they exchanged meaningful looks. Bill didn't like it when people exchanged meaningful looks he didn't know the meaning of. "Apparently so," Powers muttered.

"I'll just... take this to the car," Trigger said.

Soos backed out of the way to give him room to leave, then trailed after him: "So, are there any other bugs in here we should probably know about...?"

Bill waited until Trigger was already out of the house before he said to Dale, "Hey, does he have the car keys?"

"Oh!" Dale patted his pockets, then hurried out. "Trigger, wait!"

Once his agents were gone, Powers grumbled to himself, "'Place a new one.' What happened to professionalism." He rubbed his forehead. "Find one bug that you mysteriously don't know about, and everyone forgets how to act like government agents..."

He trailed off, giving Bill an uneasy sideways glance. Bill was still staring full force at him. He cleared his throat. "You... have an incredibly penetrating gaze, ma'am."

"Thanks! Keep talking like that and maybe it'll penetrate you," Bill really wanted to say, but didn't; "flirtatious euphemisms that could be about stabbing" and "comments that put the fear of the cruel ever-watching All-Seeing Eye of God in you" were both on Bill's list of banned topics. Instead, he tried, "Thanks! You're incredibly easy to look at!"

"O-oh." Powers adjusted his tie self-consciously. Getting a little hot under the collar, huh. "Am I?"

"You bet! In fact, I was just thinking you really look like dad material."

"That's... kind of you to say," Powers said. "However, I've never liked children."

"Oh." Bill shut his eyes until the urge to turn somebody's bones into thumbtacks subsided. "Sure, that's fine. I can take 'em or leave 'em."

"Sir?" Trigger called from the doorway. "What's our next move?"

"Excuse me." Powers left Bill, heading out to join his agents on the porch.

Bill drifted out to the entryway. Mabel and Dipper were huddled on the stairs. Bill shot Mabel a pained look and hissed, "How could you have steered me so wrong?"

"Sorryyy," she whispered back. "I thought the dad one was a winner!"

"I trusted you, star girl." He slid outside behind Powers just before the door swung shut.

And just before Soos came back in, looking stricken. Dipper asked, "What happened?"

"The agent with the movie star face asked what days the museum's closed," Soos said. "I think they're thinking about searching it more? And, he told me not to leave town? I can't take this, dude." A wild look had entered his eyes. "I'm not cut out for prison. I'm too gentle-hearted!"

"Shhh." Melody took his arm and gently led him away from the door, rubbing his back. "It's gonna be all right, Soos. It sounds like the agents are distracted. Why don't we close the museum early for lunch and try looking for Gompers again, okay? Maybe he's ready to come home. And we can get some fresh air, yeah?"

"Yeah." Soos took a deep breath. "Okay. You're right." He turned toward Dipper and Mabel. "Can you dudes handle the gift shop while we're out?"

"Sure thing, Soos, no problem," Dipper said. "You go ahead."

The twins waited until they heard the sound of the gift shop exit door closing, then Dipper said, "Not it."

"Me neither," Mabel said.

"The gift shop customers can take care of themselves for a few minutes." Dipper opened the back door a crack, and they both crowded against it. Bill—leaning on the wall next to the door with his arms crossed—glanced at the kids through the crack, raised a couple fingers in acknowledgement, and then all three listened to the agents on the porch:

"Well, obviously the flash drive signal wasn't a fluke. They must have hidden it since yesterday."

"We can't leave until we find it and figure out what's happening here." (Bill made a mental note to lord that over Melody later.) "What are our next steps?"

"Should we request more sensitive equipment to scan for electronics? There might be other transmitters in the building with completely dead batteries we're not picking up." (That seemed like a fast way to discover the door hidden behind the vending machine.)

"Maybe we ought to run some more background checks on the rest of the people here. How many of them have we checked out?"

A jolt of fear shot up Bill's spine. And that seemed like a fast way to discover that "Goldie Locke" didn't legally exist. "All right," he muttered through the crack. "I tried this the human way. Now I'm doing it my way."

"Wait," Dipper hissed, "Bill, no! What are you planning?!"

Bill ignored him as he sidled up to Powers. "Not heading out already, are you?"

Powers said, "As soon as Trigger finishes updating HQ." Trigger had walked off the porch and was now making a phone call. Dale surreptitiously scooted to the other end of the porch to give Powers and Bill room to talk.

"Aww, too bad. I was enjoying watching a real investigation at work!"

"Hm. I'm afraid you didn't see us at our most competent," Powers muttered.

"Hey, everyone has an off day or two." Bill leaned closer, just near enough for his bare arm to brush Powers's suit sleeve, and murmured, "And, anyway—not to bad-mouth these rookies, but even on a bad day it's already pretty clear you're the smartest guy in the room. I can only imagine how fascinating it'd be to watch you at work when you're bringing your A game."

Powers cleared his throat, obviously trying not to look flustered. "Well. Yes. We'll no doubt be around a few more days. Perhaps we'll... cross paths again...?"

Not good. Too passive. By now, this sucker was supposed to be falling all over himself to ask out the mysterious blonde. Bill could probably ask him out and it'd go fine—but he wasn't sure how attached this guy was to traditional gender roles, there was a chance it could turn him off.

(That was the excuse he told himself. In truth, part of him was getting mad. He wanted to be the one who was asked out. He should be asked out. He was more than good enough to be asked out, and this over-evolved eukaryote had no right to deny him that.)

He pressed, "Still, I hate to see you go. Three times I've run into you, and I hardly know any more about you than I did on the beach! I get that being mysterious comes with the whole secret agent territory—but I've been going crazy, wondering all night about this handsome stranger in town." He put just the slightest emphasis on all night—and threw in a wink for good measure.

"H... have you?" Powers turned to face Bill fully. "Well... some of my personal information is classified, given the nature of my work, but—what do you want to know?"

"For starters, I think I'm overdue to ask you whether you're single!"

"I—Yes, I am."

"Whaddaya know—something we have in common!" Bill pretended he had to think a moment before saying, "Hmm... Hey, here's another fun little get-to-know-you question: what conspiracy would you most hate to be true?"

(Through the ajar crack in the door, he could hear Mabel loudly whisper, "Bill nooo...")

"That's a fascinating question. I've often wondered it myself." Powers stared off into the distance, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose... I think I'd most hate to find out the government has tried to brainwash its own citizens. Not just propaganda, mind—that's fine—I mean actual brainwashing."

No way. Bill had to pin his lips between his teeth to keep from bursting out laughing. Somebody had forgotten to tell this guy about MKUltra. Wow. Wow. He worked for the Bureau of Covert Investigations. How did he miss MKUltra. Bill had to grope behind himself for the porch sofa and sit before he lost his balance from fighting not to laugh. When he was sure he could manage a few words without a giggle escaping, he squeaked, "Yeah, that—sounds... pretty bad."

"What about yours?" Powers turned toward Bill.

He had to quickly prop his elbow on the armrest and prop his chin in his hand to hide his mouth, pretending to think. He hoped his amusement wasn't showing elsewhere on his face—human faces had too many muscles to keep track of. "Mm! Hmm." While he was trying to get his laughter under control, Bill tried to pick out one of the countless conspiracies in his repertoire that was obscure enough to be impressive but not obscure enough to be suspicious. (Or "obscure" enough Powers didn't know about it—hello, MKUltra.) "Wow, there's—there's a lot that'd be terrible. But hey, as long as we're talking politics—" (Mabel hissed "Bill NO!") "—I've heard a rumor in the area that there's a secret crazy president that was kicked out and covered up in the history books, ever heard about that one?" That oughta grab his attention.

But to Bill's surprise, Powers frowned thoughtfully and slowly shook his head. "No, it's unfamiliar. It must be a local theory," he said. "If the government were to cover up an entire presidency, I'm sure they would have a pressing reason for it—but I do see how the concept would be alarming."

Bill stared at him. Did this guy not know anything the government was up to?! He should have been going out of his mind trying to figure out how Bill knew about Trembley. Powers wasn't the kind of agent who could tell decent lies. If he did know something, he wouldn't play dumb like that; he'd just tell Bill it was "classified." Did he really not know? But the eagles' search for Trembley's remains should have nothing to do with the memories Ford wiped from the agents' minds.

The Bureau of Covert Investigations was so covert, agents usually weren't even told about other bureau investigations they weren't personally part of. So...

Was the bureau running two investigations in Gravity Falls?

Had Powers not been looped into the Trembley case?

"Uh..." Bill scrambled to think of another conspiracy that might catch Powers's interest. (He and Trigger had mentioned Hangar 618; no wonder they had time to work on cases across the country if they were only handling half the active investigations in Gravity Falls—no, focus, focus.) "How about Big Fashion, have you heard of that one? The theory that the fashion industry's teaming up to take down ways for people to get clothes other than buying new. Thrift shops, fabric stores, sewing pattern companies..."

Powers nodded. "I'm familiar with the theory." (Oh good—Bill would've been embarrassed for him if he hadn't known that one.) "I'm afraid I haven't paid close attention to the evidence for it. I already buy all my clothes new—I don't like the thought of another man's skin cells lingering on the inside of my shirts, it feels unsanitary."

It was no wonder this guy had been assigned to Gravity Falls. Bill doubted he was weird enough to really fit in here—but he was just odd enough to feel the town's pull. "For starters, there's the assassination of the president of Valhalla Sewing Machines a few years ago. Sewing machines are one of Big Fashion's top targets."

"Something definitely happened there," Powers agreed, "but all evidence points to the hit being ordered by Crooner Company over their rival line of sewing machines. They did acquire Valhalla just a few months later."

"And Crooner's been battling the bad PR ever since," Bill said dismissively. "Neither company came out of that mess looking good. It was an obvious false flag operation!"

Powers frowned, and for a moment Bill worried that he'd said too much—that Powers either thought Bill sounded like a crackpot, or thought Bill knew too much for some small town civilian... but he said, approvingly, "You know your stuff."

Jackpot. Time to go in for the kill. "I try to! I'm interested in how the gears of the universe turn. Reality, society, politics, business—what greases those wheels? Who winds the clock? There's a lot going on underneath the surface. And I like to keep my eye on all of it." He lowered his voice. "Actually, I'm glad to see you in town. I've also felt like something's going on under the surface of this town, but..." He left the sentence dangling.

Slowly, Power said, "Something... paranormal, perhaps?"

"Ha! Between the Mystery Shack here and that 'child psychic' in town, that's the reputation Gravity Falls has now," Bill said. "I'm not the kind of gullible dope to get spooked by ghost stories without proof. But—whatever's going on here... it does feel spooky."

Powers nodded slowly. "Whenever I'm in this town, I have the exact same thoughts."

Bill fought to keep the triumph off his face.

####

Dipper whispered, "I can't believe this is working."

He and Mabel were crammed against the door, one on top of each other, listening to Bill say, "This has been a fascinating conversation. I'd love to hear more about your work... wink."

Dipper said, "I can't believe this is working even though he says 'wink' out loud."

Mabels shushed him. "Bill's doing great!"

Powers said, "Unfortunately, I do have to go submit my own report to headquarters. But, I'm free this evening. If you'd like to see a movie, or...?"

Mabel gasped. "Idea!" She tapped on the door's window to catch Bill's attention, and, when he glanced her way, she pointed out toward the clearing beyond the porch.

Bill looked at the clearing and twitched in surprise. Through the crack in the door, Dipper tried to see what Bill was looking at. He couldn't see anything in the clearing.

Bill turned to Powers. "Howsabout dinner? There's a diner in town called Greasy's. I've heard good things about it! For starters, that the food is better than the name."

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Wait, hold on—he's not allowed to go out, is he?" But Mabel didn't answer; she was sprinting full speed up the stairs.

From the far end of the porch, Dale said, "Oh, Greasy's is terrific, I went there yesterday for lunch. Makes a damn fine cup of coffee. And try the cherry pie."

"Very well," Power said. "When should I...?"

"I'll meet you at the diner. Let's say seven."

When the agents had left, Dipper yanked open the door. "What was that?! Nobody said you could actually leave to go on a date!"

Bill shrugged. "It wasn't my idea, it was your sister's."

"What?" Dipper frowned. "When did she say that?"

"She didn't. She's going to."

Mabel pounded down the stairs, counting the steps under her breath—"twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty eight"—carrying a neon yellow posterboard folded loosely in half. She ran out the door to the clearing behind the shack, held up the posterboard—she'd written "♡ INVITE HIM TO GREASY'S ♡" in thick black marker—and announced, "Ta-da!"

"You're too late," Dipper said. "Bill already asked Powers and he already left."

Bill said, "I asked him because I saw her telling me to."

Dipper looked between Bill and the poster. "Ohhh. Hang on. This is a future sight thing?"

"Bingo."

"How long should I hold it up?" Mabel called.

"Just give it another ten seconds," Bill said. "That thing's fluorescent, I could probably see it from an hour away."

She bounced on the balls of her feet for a few more seconds, then said, "Okay!" and jogged back to the porch, beaming from ear to ear. "That was so cool."

"Hey, smart girl!" Bill caught Mabel's sleeve before she could run past him. "You know, I've been talking to humans for thousands of years, and you're the first who's ever sent a message backwards in time to me?"

"Really?" Her face lit up. "Shut up! There's no way I'm the first-first!"

"Hand on heart, Shooting Star, no other human's ever tried it," Bill said. "You can't even see the fourth dimension, but you still understand it well enough to send messages through it. I'm genuinely impressed!"

Mabel's delight reached a boiling over point. She cackled in glee, gave Bill a quick hug, and bounded into the living room, crowing, "I'M THE GREATEST!"

Bill watched Mabel zoom into the gift shop, grinning proudly; and then his eyes slid sideways to meet Dipper's. "What's that look for."

Dipper was leveling his best suspicious glare at Bill. "Oh, nothing," he said. "Just thinking about how, the last time I heard you say you were impressed, you were just manipulating me into letting you puppet my body."

"Hmm! Yeah! I did do that!" Bill said. "Did I say I was genuinely impressed?"

Dipper's scowl deepened.

Bill's smirk widened. "C'mon, kid, don't be jealous just because you're not the alpha twin. It'd make your sister feel terrible."

####

"You actually got a date?" Ford asked.

"Sure! As if it's hard!"

Stan smugly held out a hand, palm up. Ford shot him an exasperated look, but sighed, fished around in his pocket, pulled out five large one-dollar coins, and dropped them in Stan's hand.

Bill stared at Ford, brows raised. "I don't know what's more insulting: that you bet against me, or that you've stopped using paper currency." Ford didn't deign to respond.

When they had been absolutely sure the agents were gone—for now—Soos had gone downstairs to let the Stans know the coast was clear; and now the adults were gathered in the living room again to discuss their next moves. Or, rather, Bill's.

Stan said, "So there's still been no sign of Gompers?"

"Nope," Soos said. "He's really run off. Plus, me and Melo—" (at Ford's look, he corrected himself) "—Melody and I drove around earlier looking for him? You know, in case he came out of the woods somewhere? But one of the government guys started following me in a black car? Sooo we had to stop looking, and I guess we're still being watched."

"Which'll make it harder to sneak me out for my date without them noticing I live here," Bill said. Maybe they could sneak him out with the crystal flashlight trick he and Mabel had pulled before, but he'd rather not tell the other Pines how they'd pulled that off in case they ever had to do it again. "We might be able to split 'em up while we outnumber them, but if this goes on for long, they'll bring in reinforcements."

"Ford and I can't help distract them," Stan pointed out. "We've gotta stay inside. And Soos is the only one that can drive Bill to this date. With the kids' help, we've only just got enough people to split the agents up."

Ford muttered, "Meaning there's no one to keep a watch over Bill." He crossed his arms. "Letting Bill flirt with a government agent under our roof is one thing—but I don't like a plan that involves letting Bill out in public and trusting him not to throw us under the bus." (Bill had considered it, but decided it would just cause the government to seize his portal and Mabel to never speak to him again.)

"He wouldn't do that," Soos said hotly—to Bill's surprise. "He already had a chance to run away and he didn't! And if he wanted us to get in trouble, he could have just not helped at all!"

"I..." Ford looked for a moment like he wanted to protest—Bill expected him to protest—but then he grimaced, shut his mouth, and said nothing. There was an even bigger surprise. Bill wasn't actually making progress with Ford, was he? Bill stared at the side of his face, willing him to explain himself; but Ford avoided his gaze.

Stan said, "Listen, I don't like letting him out either, but I don't think we have a choice."

"All right, all right," Ford sighed. "Fine. I don't like it—but unless Gompers shows up in the next few hours, you're still our best hope of getting out of this mess." (Bill decided to pretend that was praise and spent a second basking in it.) "Which means you have to find out everything the agents currently know and suspect, keep them away from anything that could restore their memories, convince them to turn their attention away from our household without the flash drive, andmake sure no one gets arrested. And you've got one date to do it all in."

It was a tall order—but the way Ford said it like a challenge, like he thought maybe Bill couldn't do it, made Bill's blood boil. "Piece of cake! Don't forget it's taken me less time than that to convince you to do a lllot more than that." At Ford's scowl, Bill grinned viciously. "One date's all I need. By the end of the night, I'll have this whole thing figured out." If he said it like he believed it, it was basically true.

####

(The only bits of this that were changed in the wake of TBOB were adding in the discussion about the Seduction Hat; and adding a short section establishing that Powers's team is not involved with the Trembley investigation and briefly mentioning Hangar 618. In the original draft of this chapter, I'd said that a different government department was handling the Trembley case, until TBOB established otherwise. Establishing that Powers's team wasn't on the Trembley case is something that'll be important in future chapters.

From here on out the plot arc speeds up and turns increasingly into some kinda fusion between a spy drama and a reverse heist movie. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts so far and your thoughts on where it's gonna go!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #agent powers #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(this entire plot arc is Bill looking less and less like Bill with each chapter art lmfao)#(he's gonna be so thrilled to crawl back into his triangle hoodie.)

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janluxe · 3 days ago

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VDAY ACTIVITIES – JASON TODD

– word count; 1.3k

– contents; fluff, angst(?) & mentions of violence but nothing too graphic.

– summary; the day's activities don't go as planned when Riddler holds you hostage.

– a/n; This was rushed. there might be mistakes, and I will most definitely update it asap. Happy Valentine's Day everyone, taken or not all that matters is that you're satisfied with being with yourself first, so give love that person you see in the mirror before you expect anyone to do so. have a nice day ♡

Jason was never big on the holidays. In his eyes, such occasions were simply another way for companies to earn more money in a short time span, plus they never held much meaning to him. Until he met you. A big part of him felt inclined, not pressured, in trying to follow the rules each tradition set – or at least he tried to. If that was what would bring a smile to your face, he was willing to put in the effort.

Hence why he was putting his vigilante identity on the side for the day and found himself among civilians instead, surrounded by an ocean – the term sea would be an understatement of what his poor eyes had to endure – of red products.

Using a day as an excuse for one's ignorance of their partner's need for affection and attention with buying gifts was one more society thing he couldn't, and had no intention to, understand.

His gaze wandered, hoping he'd find something suitable. An idea popped into his mind the second he set eyes on a heart-shaped box and immediately knew what he had to do.

The trip to a local flower shop made this whole shopping spree feel like a personal Odyssey, but just like the epic poem; in the end, everything was worth the suffering. The harsh red of the roses balanced out with the softness and pure white of the lilies better than he could've imagined, almost looking like a crime scene so elegantly executed on ground in which the earth was hiding under a veil.

His hands worked effortlessly since he had already pictured everything already set up, each little detail serving its purpose. Jason was the kind of person who would prefer expressing his affection privately, through small acts such as this when he wasn't clinging by your side.

There was a faint feeling of pride cursing right through him while he spared a moment to admire his work; the dining area tidied up, the table perfectly looking with the bouquet and petals resting on the soft surface of the tablecloth – he even considered lighting a few candles to set the mood, like they do in the movies, but he settled on the city lights that were brightening the room from the big window next to the TV.

However, as the saying goes, ‘good things don't last forever’ – Jason's soft breathing was interrupted abruptly by his phone ringing, his shoulders slumped as he practically dragged his feet all the way over to pick up. An unknown number, how lovely. Maybe it was just a grandma who messed up the number. He seriously didn't need to worry over this.

Before he could properly greet or ask who dared disturb him, a familiar voice broke through the other side of the line. “Riddle me this, Red Hood,” Definitely not a wholesome grandma, dammit, plan A aka try-not-to-worry just crumbled to the floor. A small grunt escaped the back of Jason's throat, pressing his tongue against the softness of his cheek and then clicking it. “A ticking clock, a burning fuse. One wrong move, and you will lose. Its final toll a deadly chime. Solve me fast or say goodbye. What am I?” Riddler continued, his voice doing what it does best at pissing Jason off.

Throwing out empty threats during dangerous situations wasn't one of Jason's characteristics. And with that in mind, who would be surprised that he was already out the door; armor and equipment waiting for him in the car – he didn't need any more bullshit Riddler would give him, he'd figure out your location in half the amount of time.

It was no secret to anyone how many sadistic tendencies Nygma had alongside the most inconvenient timing of all time. You were completely isolated in a room filled with bright green clues on the walls that surrounded you, clues that made no sense whatsoever, especially when you felt the space closing in on you. The timer bomb he had locked around your wrists was not much help either. Your skin burned an angry red and grew heavier and heavier the more time went by.

Despite your body's protests, you didn't put an end to your attempt to get out of this God awful place. Dizziness eventually caught up to you as you felt a familiar warmth trickle down your face – filling your eyebrow with a reddish color that matched the scheme of the occasion.

On the other side, the Riddler watched – he always did. His taunts echoed in your ears. Even the static didn't stand in his way to humiliate other people for not being as bright as he was. But, he was no star. He was a mere match, burning up faster than he was aware of.

Was Jason's newfound impatience mentioned in this story?

The lock of the door was shot off. The sound bounced off the walls, startling the guilty and giving a sense of hope to the innocent. And if that wasn't good enough for a dramatic entrance by a former theater kid, he had the best ideas for ending a play. The place remained dead silent, with the only interruption being the ticking of the time bomb when Jason threw a bag at him, soaked and filled with the heads of those who tried to stop him. He had done Riddler a favor, making sure that this narcissistic bastard got his hands dirty by the blood of his thugs.

Jason Todd wasn't Batman. Mercy was never his cup of tea, and it wasn't tolerable when it came to his loved ones.

Many often seem to forget that part, but the Red Hood will remind them. He never took off without leaving a mark behind. In this case, it was a bullet to Nygma's leg – a gift as he would call it, for he spent a bullet on a lowlife.

“How badly are you injured, love?” The pitch in Jason's voice reminded you of how much worry he had within him throughout the whole process. From his point of view, the possibility of losing you was a valid reason for him to never forgive himself. Without waiting another second for you to mutter a response or some pathetic excuse, he slipped his hand under your shirt, gently running his fingers over your skin – mindful over his touches and small taps, not wanting to stir any overwhelming sensations in you.

Jason allowed a soft sigh to escape hum, his shoulders relaxing the moment he had ensured you hadn't endured any physical pain. His eyes fluttered shut, letting himself bask the bittersweet moment of not being there on time and of ensuring your safety at last.

“I'm sorry, love.” Not allowing you to tire yourself out as he kept talking, his voice barely above a whisper while he buried his face into your shoulder and found some comfort in the scent he was very accustomed to.

Even with the corner of your eye you could spot the preparations he had made in your shared apartment; bright heart-shaped balloons decorated the usual darkness of the kitchen, the table was already set for two and he had already cooked your favorite but it had gone cold by now. The small movement of your head caught his attention, and almost immediately, he knew what you were looking at as well as the kind of thoughts that were going through your mind.

“I'll make Valentine's day up to you, I promise.” Jason muttered and gently tightened his embrace around you, protecting you from anything unexpected even for this passing moment.

#jason todd #fluff #dc comics #dc universe #jason my beloved #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #batfam #red hood #red hood drabble #red hood dc #jason todd red hood #valentines day #valentinesdayspecial #valentinesday2025 #character x reader #x reader

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snoopychris · 2 days ago

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loml

warnings: angst with foreplay, p in v, lots of mentions of pregnancy

as much as the media could try to portray it as the best place on earth, sometimes it was the absolute worst. Hollywood. the only industry on earth where if you messed up once, forget about everything you had ever worked for. if you ended up on the wrong side of a breakup, forget about ever being seen on a red carpet again. if you had famous parents, forget about any credit ever being given to you– it would all tie back to your parents unless you were charming enough from a young age. luckily for you, thats right where you landed. you were Hollywood’s sweetheart from day one, known equally for your charm and being Jason Segel’s daughter.

it was fairly known that you had never paid for any sort of role in your life. never getting anything just handed to you, no, you always worked for it. you were always known for working for it. known for trying to be as independent from your father’s projects and having your own. it wasnt a shocker to anybody when you had started your own clothing brand at age 21. it was at the launch party when you first met matt. the youtube boy— who was skyrocketing to fame with his brothers on their own accord— right there at your party. like the rest of the world you had seen him online before, but it was so different in person.

whereas his online persona was the quiet one of the group, the one who got the least amount of action, his real and true self was the exact opposite. he was charming in every sense of the word.

even with all the flashing lights and loud noises that should’ve been distracting you, even with the constant nagging from the photographers and interviews around you, and even with your dads constant tugs on your arm to get you to pay attention, all you could manage to focus on was him. and the same way you could only focus on him, matt could only focus on you.

nick was nagging him to take a few pictures, chris was begging him to light up just one more time, his manager was trying to pull him away to go get some publicity. the distractions just weren’t working. for either of you. and when the both of you finally locked eyes, you both just knew. complete strangers at the start of the night, but by the end of the celebration, it was the start of the best love story hollywood had seen in recent years.

one month in.

the giggling in the house was all that could be heard. it had been nonstop for hours at this point. chris and nick would usually be sick of the lack of silence in the house, but seeing their brother so happy made it more than okay. they could have left a while ago, but it was a lot more fun to watch this love story unfold than to go to a random store to shop. you and matt just fit so perfectly together. even the lines on your palms managed to match up. it’s like somebody in the heavens above had made one person and split them into two bodies. that’s just how perfect it all was.

the two of you hadn’t been seen together in public yet— much to the dismay of the paparazzi who had seen the spark that ignited at your party— but it was better this way. even without an official label, it was better to keep some stuff more public. this wasn’t their relationship after all, it was yours. it was yours and it was everything both of you had ever needed and more. there wasnt a single second where anything felt wrong. it was nothing but mutual love and happiness.

“hey lovebirds we’re going to In-n-Out, do you guys want anything?” Chris asks, grabbing onto his car keys from the table. it feels like its part of a movie script when both of you reply with the same thing. “plain double-double with fries!” the grip you had on matt’s shirt tightens when you break out in another fit of giggles, face burying into his chest as he holds onto you as if you were about to leave him forever. Chris smiles at his brothers actions, following nick out the front door. “Nick fifty bucks says the get married.” Chris whispers, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Nick shakes his head in denial, pushing his brothers wallet back. “it wouldnt be smart for me to bet against it. i know they’ll get married.”

three months in.

for the first time in your entire Hollywood career, you had a date to a red carpet that wasnt your father. this time, Matt was right by your side for the entire night. the outfits the two of you wore were coordinated to one anothers to the last detail. your dior converse-style shoes matched matt’s tie, your baby pink dress matched matt’s baby pink suit, your headband matched his belt, and even though the cameras would never see it, even your undergarments were matching. his grip on your waist was tight, as if making sure that nobody got too close to you or to make sure that nobody was bothering you. the flashes coming from the crowd were constant and expected, but this time just felt so different than all the times before.

this time it felt like the moment was being photographed, not the people. it felt like every good feeling in the world all tied into one with a ribbon. matt’s whispers of silent nothings into your ears just made it all better. one picture in particular made magazine covers. an image in which matt was gripping onto one of your hands while his eyes were locked onto your lips and his free hand was pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, all while you were looking directly into his eyes while the rain began pouring over the previously sunny california skies. it looked like it could be straight from a romcom. it seemed like your relationship was straight out of a romcom.

when the event was over, there was no question about where you would end up. your apartment was nice and quiet— far enough from downtown los angeles to give you the privacy you so desperately needed sometimes, but close enough to be within a drivable distance to the constant events and shoots you had to do. upon arrival, matt’s soft lips were kissing all over your body in the most loving way possible, words in between every phrase that left his mouth as if he were writing a poem and you were his muse. “my sweet girl” kiss “god, am i lucky.” kiss. “this is everything i could’ve ever asked for and more” kiss. “you make me feel things nobody’s ever made me feel before.” kiss. “you truly reformed me, darling.” kiss. the last kiss was the most passionate. it was just so genuine. you couldn’t believe the sort of life you were living right now.

“you’re such a romantic, y’know that matt?” you whisper, hands moving to loosen his tie. both of you knew that the night would end up like this from the moment it started, but it was the best possible outcome. he shrugs as he lays you down onto your bed gently, stripping you of your clothes as well as his. he doesn’t hesitate to slide into you as soon as he has a condom on, pulling you into another passionate kiss.

his hand lays on the back of your neck as he begins to move in a gentle pace, making sure that the entire time you felt safe, comfortable, and most importantly, loved. this wasn’t just any act of sex the way both of you had experienced with others before, this was the act of lovemaking. in a way, it was like losing your virginity all over again because of how different it was. in the post-coital bliss the two of you were experiencing, matt still nestled in side you, the words just slipped from his mouth. “i love you. i love you so much.” you smile up at him, your eyes saying everything that he needed to know, but it didn’t take long for your mouth to catch up. “i love you.”

six months in.

“are you sure i look okay? i just… im really trying to make a good first impression and y-your mom seems so sweet but what if she doesn’t like me. or what if she thinks my outfit is ridiculous and that you could do so much better than me and what if she jus-” your rambling was cut off by a sudden kiss, breaking you free from the grasps of your mind and its cruel words. “you look beautiful. she’s gonna love it. she’s gonna love you just as much as i do.” he whispers, his hand resting on your thigh as he pulled into his family’s Boston driveway. your flight had landed an hour ago, and the hour between your arrival to Boston and your arrival to his house was one of the most stressful hours of your life. his words of reassurance were more than what you needed.

the dinner went better than you could’ve ever imagined. matt was right. his parents loved you. his brothers seemed to only love you even more. it was as if you had always been a part of the family. his hand had never left your grip, holding your small hand tightly in his. he wanted to put a ring on it so badly. but he knew it was too soon. he knew it wasn’t time yet. his mother seemed to know just what he was thinking by the end of the night. while you were sitting in the living room having a small chat with nick, matt got pulled aside by none other than marylou.

he hadn’t done anything wrong all night, so he truly had no idea what it could be about. he was quite worried to be completely honest. “i want you to propose with grandmas ring. you tell me when you’re ready and i’ll give it to you. you guys are just so good together that i can sense that it’s going to happen. i’m so happy for you my dear boy.” she whispers, tears forming in her eyes as she speaks. her thumb brushes over matt’s cheek before she gets pulled into a tight hug, a whisper filling her ear. “i promise you’ll be the first to know mama.”

one year in

“this just in! bum bum bum!!!” you joke, matt’s grip on you only tightening at your words. “matt sturniolo keeps americas sweetheart locked in a 10 by 15 foot bedroom in order to keep her with him at all times. stay tuned to see how the story unfolds.” matt lets out a loud laugh at your words, fingers pushing through your hair. “yeah okay princess if that’s what you think this is.” he replies, a kiss being pressed to your forehead. you giggle as you sit up on his waist, hands playing with a loose string on his shirt. he can’t help but admire you in this moment. “matt cmon i haven’t been home—my own home— in three days! i still have a family y’know. plus… my jelly cats miss me”

“so move in with me.” he whispers. your heart stops. you think he’s just pulling some sort of prank on you. it’s just too out of the blue to be real. “matt don’t play like that.” you mumble, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “i’m not playing! i just think… we spend so much time together anyway… you’ve got the money and i’ve got the money… we’d finally have some privacy. we could even get an apartment together instead of moving into yours.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple. “okay.” you whisper back, nodding against his neck. he can’t believe his ears. “okay? wait so we’re moving in together?” he asks excitedly, laughing when you nod and kissing your face all over. it was the start of a new chapter for americas favorite couple.

one year, 3 months in.

the panting that filled the room was just the right amount of overwhelming. most of it was coming from you, but a few were coming from matt. his leg was draped over yours, keeping a hold on you subtly. “we’re out of condoms.” he whispers, tracing shapes on your thigh. you nod as you look over at the bedside table, licking your lips. “you’ve been breaking in all the surfaces in the new place… should’ve gotten a twin pack.” you giggle, moving to rest your head on his chest. matt’s arm moves to wrap around your shoulder, finger moving to trace shapes on your back.

“i can’t help it. i’ve got the prettiest girl in the whole industry in my bed. our bed. and i would love to go another round if she’d let me.” his words make you chuckle, pouting your lip teasingly. “if only it worked like that. no, not without a condom. you know that.” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his slight stubble.

“oh come on. you’re tellin me you’re never gonna let me hit it raw? never ever?” he jokes, wincing when you slap his arm gently. his eyes widen at you, as if he’s actually expecting an answer. when he pinches your arm you realize that he is. “well of course i will just… not anytime soon. and i mean i’ve been on birth control since i was sixteen so really the chances are reduced but… the idea of having kids is kinda scary don’t y’think?” you mumble, furrowing your brows. matt shakes his head, stretching one hand out behind his head.

“no not with you. i think i could do anything with you. think you’d be great at all that mom stuff.” your gaze softens at his words, pressing another kiss to his lips gently. “one day.” you whisper, shifting your position to be fully on top of him. he nods in retaliation, kissing your forehead. “one day.”

one year, six months in.

“to a miss y/n segel.” matt states, handing a fancy looking envelope to you straight from the mail. “thought you said you weren’t waiting on anything.” he continues, flipping through the junk mail that arrived. you nod, gently opening the envelope. “it’s cause i wasn’t. i don’t know what this is.” you whisper, gasping when you pull out the contents. “miss y/n… we here at Prada are big fans of your work and the message you try to spread to all of your loyal followers and anybody who will listen. with this letter we cordially invite you and a plus one to visit our headquarters in Milan after Paris Fashion Week concludes this upcoming Winter. please reply at your earliest convenience to the information attached at the bottom of the letter. we hope to see you soon.”

“we’re going to milan…” you whisper, eyes darting to meet matt’s. his eyes widen in shock, glancing down at the letter before pulling you into a tight hug from behind. “oh i dont know… i dont have one of those invites.” he jokes, you push his head away from you playfully, looking into the same blue eyes youd fallen in love with over the 18 months you had known him. “well in that case…”

Matt’s life flashes before his eyes when you sink down to one knee, Prada envelope in hand. “Mr. Matt Sturniolo… will you… go to Milan with me?” you giggle, the faux-proposal turning cogs in matts head. “yes! yes yes yes a thousand times yes!” he laughs, taking the envelope as if it were a ring. he wonders if you would react the same way when he proposed to you in the future. he hopes you do.

one year, seven months in.

shopping for a fashion trip was a lot harder than it seemed. matt was with you every step of the way, but shopping for him was a lot harder than shopping for you was. you groan when you leave the fourth department store of the trip, burying your head in your boyfriends chest “‘m tired… this is hard.” you whine, his hand flying to your hair as he chuckles. “yeah? y’struggling? i told you i think you look great in everything. especially that little white one.” you shake your head, the prominent pout on your face telling matt everything he needs to know. “fine… fine! i’ll take you home” you smile giddily when he makes his way towards the exit, only stopping when you see the most gorgeous dress youd ever seen in a store window.

your breath gets caught in your chest at the sight of it. you just have to have it. your legs carry you into the store, asking an associate to try it on in your size. the second that the dress is on your body, you know that its just the dress for you. it seems like it was made for you with the way the color patterns and style is everything you couldve asked for.

“Matty?” you whisper, tucking one of your hands into one of dress's pockets. Matts heart damn near stops at the sight of you in it. “it looks nice… really nice. I really like it. you gonna get it?” he asks, pulling you close with a small spin. you giggle at the action and shrug, glancing down at the price tag. “I dunno… its twelve hundred dollars. kinda a lot for a dress dont y’think?” the hesitation in your voice is clear. the lack thereof in matts is clearer. “let me buy it for you. you deserve something nice every now and then, my love. Ill buy this for you and anything else you want. forever and always.” he smiles, sticking a pinky out to you to offer a pinky promise. you lock your fingers with his, nodding at his words in agreement. “forever and always.”

two years in.

“Chris… oh my god he’s so little!” you smile, glancing down at the newborn in the hospital bassinet. everybody had been shocked when chris was the first Sturniolo to become a dad. it was a happy accident as the result of a one night stand. he had kept it a secret until his son had been born, the news coming from an incoming facetime call matt received. the two of you had rushed your way over when the call ended, putting you in the place you are now. “Chris hes perfect… oh my god its a baby!” you whisper yell, making sure to be careful due to the babies size. Matt chuckles as he pats his brother on the back, a sign of encouragement.

if matt was worried about becoming a father one day, he couldnt imagine how his little brother was feeling right now. the coos coming from the baby keep earning giggles and baby noises from you, making both matt and chris smile widely. “I want one” you pout, glancing over your shoulder to look at matt. his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets at your words. it had been briefly touched on in the length of your relationship before, but this time felt so much more serious than the other times. he nods, crossing his arms at your words.

“technically that ones fifty percent mine… take him.” he jokes, earning a slap on the chest from his brother. he winces, pouting his lips. “that ones mine… just give her her own.” chris replies, reaching to grab his now crying son from the crib. Matt eyes you up and down, gesturing you over. his arms wrap around you, chin resting on the top of your head. “ill get you one… one day. cant give you one while youre on the pill now can you” he jokes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you give into all of the touches, watching as chris interacts with the baby. your heart flutters a bit, imagining it being matt playing with your own children rather than chris being with his. one day.

two years, six months in.

“what if we just dont go tonight? we can stay here… have some mindblowing sex. i can even wear the set you like! cmon pleaseeeeee? I promise ill make it much more worth your while than dinner at the cheesecake factory.” you plead, putting your earrings on regardless. youre wearing the dress that matt had bought you for milan, arguably a bit fancy for the cheesecake factory, but matt insisted you wear it. he shakes his head as he sprays on his cologne, placing your hands in his. “y/n. we’re going. i’ll take you up on that offer of the sex later though. I wanna have a nice dinner with you.” you smile up at the boy, nodding your head.

“Okay… okay fine you win. youre like a disney prince oh my god.” you giggle, placing a hand on his cheek. he gives into the touch, pressing a small trail of kisses up your arm. when he finally reaches your face, he presses the most gentle kiss on your lips. you smile at the simple actions, gripping onto his hands. “Fineeeee. but i want multiple types of cheesecake.” you negotiate. Matt nods, patting his coat to make sure he has everything he needs. he lets out a sigh of relief when he feels that his keys, his phone, and the little velvet box are all in his pocket.

when you finally arrive to the restaurant, youre shocked to see that its not the cheesecake factory the way you were expecting. your breath hitches when you see the interior. the dress youre wearing makes sense now. that little bastard was just trying to trick you. the host leads you to your table, where theres already a bottle of your favorite wine waiting. your eyes dart to matt when you hear him laughing, a smirk evident on his face. “What? werent expecting this were you?” you shake your head, a blush creeping onto your face. his face is confident, but his body language is different. he seems a lot more nervous than usual.

“what’s up with you? youve been so secretive lately… i feel like i havent seen you till today” you ask, mind instantly going to the worst case scenario. matt shakes his head, deciding that if he was going to take this leap, he had to do it now. your hands cover your mouth when matt drops to one knee, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat to pull out his grandmothers ring.

though his breath hitches in his throat when he starts speaking, he pushes through with what he has to say. “i um… i met you when i was 21 years old. im 23 now. i dont think i could ever imagine going from ages 21 to 23 without you right by my side… truly. youre everything i couldve ever possibly asked for and more. i cant imagine a future without you. i cant imagine a life without you. theres no me without you. you take me to heaven every single time you smile… a-and i cant imagine starting a family without anybody else. and y/n… fuck. i dont think i was alive until the day i met you. ive said it a million times before and ill say it again. youre the love of my life. so… will you marry me?” theres tears in his eyes by the end of it, matching the tears in yours. you choke back a sob as you nod rapidly, whispering a long string of the word yes. matt chuckles nervously as he places the ring on your finger, pulling you into the longest kiss he’s ever given you.

2 years, 9 months in

“hey princess.” your dad mumbles as he walks past you in the meeting room, hand resting on your shoulder. defamation scandals were not for the weak of heart— especially for the people who hadn’t done anything wrong. you weren’t even sure where it had come from. some paparazzi who didn’t get the picture he wanted was claiming that you had broken his camera and that matt had broken his nose. your dad had a lawyer ready for cases like this, calling him up the instant that the lawsuit had come through. “daddy i didn’t do anything wrong!” you whisper, looking over at your dad. he nods in response, rubbing your shoulder. “i know you didn’t.” you sigh at the idea of being stuck in this room for another while, especially since matt was still nowhere to be seen.

it feels like you manifested him when he walks into the room, dressed in a suit and tie with a briefcase in hand. he came prepared. matt sits down next to you, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek. “hi my love” he whispers, gripping onto your thigh. “sorry i took forever… the contractors for the house were late and then i got stopped by every red light in los angeles.” you sigh contently as you lay your head on his shoulder, a usual spot got you. his arm wraps around you instinctively, ready for the challenges to come. “we’re gonna get through this. and then we’re gonna go home… and you’re gonna see your brand new house. and then if you want we’ll never attend a red carpet again.” you nod at matt’s words, each part that slipped his lips making you feel better about the case at hand. the relationship was stronger than it ever had been before, and it was the perfect combination of online and offline. you just hoped the media wouldn’t find out about the new house the way they had found out about the apartment and used it as means of exploitation.

“what if we lose? what if we lose the case and we go bankrupt and we can’t have a big wedding and we can never start a family and w-we just don’t get the life we’ve been planning” you ramble, tears forming in your eyes. matt cuts you off with a kiss, shaking his head as he rests his forehead on yours. “any life with you is the life i’ve been planning. in sickness and in health. i’ll never leave you ever.” you giggle at his words, nodding slowly as you begin to relax. “you were like sent from the gods i swear.”

3 years in.

“hey hey hey! hey julian get back here!” matt yells, chasing after chris’ young son while you walked into the door after your photo shoot. you giggle at the sight, setting your bag on the floor and swooping the toddler into your arms. you’re met with a squeal and a collection of laughs from the young boy, eyes moving to meet matt’s. “how do you get him to calm down like that?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. it’s clear he’s been at this for a while. you shrug as you play with the toddler carefully, pressing a kiss to your fiancés lips. “mmmm you smell like a nice perfume.” he whispers, his mouth lingering near yours. he places another small kiss to your lips , being cut off by the toddlers mindless babbles. “maccy cheese?” he asks, his big blue eyes meeting your own. you chuckle as you nod, walking to the kitchen with the toddler.

“can’t believe your uncle matty hasn’t fed you yet” you joke, setting the toddler on the counter. “it’s not my fault! he refuses to eat my food. i think it must be in your genes. you’re meant to be a mother. the mother to myyyyy kids. i’m just… mr steal your girl. and trust after that milan honeymoon you will be a mother to my kids.” matt hops up onto the counter next to his nephew, ruffling the munchkins hair. you roll your eyes at his words, placing the shaped pasta into the boiling water. “and why’d we pick milan again?” you whisper, resting your hands on either side of matt’s legs. “cause it’s the first trip we took together.” he whispers, hand settling on top of yours. it makes you blush, inching your face close to his as you joke. “oh i’ll take mr romantic over mr steal your girl any day”

3 years, 1 month in.

“are you actually smoking again?” you mumble, glancing up at matt from your spot on the bed. he shrugs, flicking his lighter on and holding it close to his joint. it had been his second of the day. you’d prefer weed over nicotine, but it was still an unhealthy habit to have. you wanted to slap it away from him, but you weren’t in the mood to fight today. it had already been long enough. the arguments seemed to be becoming more consistent. as the day of the wedding just kept inching closer, you assumed it was nothing but the jitters.

“you want some?” he asks, holding the joint towards you. you shake your head, glancing over at your birth control on the counter. you hadn’t taken it in a few days, and you worried that if you took it with weed that your body would have some visceral reaction. “can you put it out? it’s making me nauseous.” you whisper, picking at your fingernails. matt shakes his head, instead standing up and walking out of the room. he had never done that before. you sigh as you get comfortable on the bed alone, turning off the lamp besides you. matt returns after an hour or two, arm wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear. “i’m sorry… i love you so much i’m sorry. forgive me please. that was the last of it. it’s gone forever now.”

3 years, 3 months in.

you swore that you were going to burst into tears the first time you looked yourself in the mirror in full glam. nick was photographing the entire moment in his bridesmaids suit, eyes glistening with nothing but pure happiness. “work it! oh your dress is absolutely stunning. it’s so shiny and so… you” he chuckles, camera clicks constantly coming. your breath hitches in your throat when you realize that it’s finally here. everything you had been planning for in the past 9 months was finally here. you could’ve had a baby right now. you wipe the tears that had formed in your eyes quickly, ensuring that your makeup remained fine. you glance at nick and smile, biting your lip to hold back anymore cries or tears.

“in thirty short minutes you’re gonna be walking the aisle… and in less than an hour you’re gonna be married to the man of your dreams. i mean! do you know how many people really get to do that?” he whispers, pulling you into a tight hug. you giggle at his words, eyes glancing towards the clock. 30 minutes.

a knock on the door grabs nicks attention, as well as your own, suddenly filling you with fear that something’s gone wrong. the cake or the flowers or the food. you’re not too sure. your worry is lessened when it’s chris who walks in the room, eying nick instantly. “can i talk to you real quick?” he whispers, filling you with fear again. this time your mind goes to the worst case scenario, worrying that something had gone terribly wrong. you take a seat in the ottoman in the room, watching as the boys head out of the room.

nick walks in after a few minutes, but he’s shaking this time. you swallow nervously, eyes batting rapidly. searching for an answer. “what’s going on? is it my dad?” you whisper, standing up instantly. you’re worried. nick hesitates for a moment but then shakes his head, lips pursing into a line. “i almost wish it was… um…” he swallows again, looking back at the door as if someone’s going to come in and save him. he knows it’s no luck. “matt’s leaving.” oh. my. god. you shake your head in disbelief, standing up so quickly that you get lightheaded. “what do you mean he’s leaving? wh-where’s he going?” nick shakes his head, hand running over his mouth. “he’s in the parking lot. go. go now. chris and nate are trying to hold him off.”

despite the struggle that your dress should provide when it comes to running, you manage to do it without falling or even tripping. when you arrive to the small, rocky parking lot of the wedding barn, matt’s right there where nick said he would be. nate’s holding him back while chris is saying unintelligible words to him. “matt!” you yell, tears forming in your eyes once more. “you told her?!?!” he yells, lurching towards chris. chris scoffs in disbelief, moving away from his brother. “you’re walking out on her and i was supposed to keep her in the dark? of course i fucking told her.” you swallow once more, barely fighting back tears at this point. nate takes a few steps away before coming back to take chris along with him. your eyes are desperate for answers. you’re desperate for answers. matt knows that. his hands push into his pockets as he takes a step towards you, avoiding your gaze the entire time.

“i can’t do this… it’s too soon and i’m not… i can’t… im so so sorry. i know that this is the worst thing somebody could ever possibly do but i just… i can’t live a lie. not one this big.” matt explains, though it only causes more questions to arise in your mind. a sob finally leaves your lips as you reach for his hand, which he quickly pulls away. tears form in his eyes too, and he’s quick to let one fall. you want him to so badly hold you and tell you that it’s a sick prank but it’s just not happening. you let out another string of sobs as he begins walking away, the gravel crunching beneath his steps. chris steps besides you, about to pull you in for a hug but you shake your head. you can’t do this right now. so instead you do the only thing you could ever do when you got in previous fights with matt. you yell.

“you’re a coward! you’re a pathetic excuse for a man and you should have never even asked me to marry you to begin with if you knew you wouldn’t be able to pull the fucking trigger! you’re pathetic. i can’t believe that you would ever fucking do this. you’re unfuckingbelieveable.” matt nods at all of your words, climbing into the car regardless. he knows all the words leaving your lips are true. he knows especially that you’re right while he’s driving off. chris and nate both know that they have options on what steps to take next. it takes a simple glance to each other to know what’s going to happen. nate heads inside to tell the guests of your wedding that it’s being called off. and chris is going to hold you while you cry. and you cry. and cry. and cry.

two weeks out

the knock on your apartment door makes you groan. you don’t wanna get out of bed. not today. you were supposed to be flying out for your honeymoon in milan today. it’s crazy how fast things change. regardless, you climb up and pad your way over to the door. chris, julian, and nick stand in front of you, nick instantly pulling you in for a remorseful hug. you begin to cry in his arms again as chris walks inside, looking around the much emptier apartment. it was the first place you and matt had ever owned together. it was crazy that you had even moved back here. “his stuff is um… in the box over in that corner. it’s just the shit he left here when we moved to the house.” you mumble, sitting back on your unmade bed. it hadn’t been made in weeks. you haven’t cleaned anything other than dirty dishes in weeks. if you weren’t so afraid of mold you wouldn’t have cleaned those either.

it feels like everything is an empty shell of what it all used to be. every corner you look at feels like matt’s right there. you can hardly look at your best friend without seeing him. there’s still a picture of the two of you sitting on one of your old shelves, left behind when you had moved to your house in the first place. it was a picture of you and matt dancing on the terrace, taken by nick. the people on that picture felt like phantoms now. you wonder how the girl in the picture—the past version of you— would feel if she knew what would happen. “take that too. and anything that may be yours…” you whisper, wiping tears away from your face. chris frowns. he hates seeing you this down. you were usually so bright. the best smile in every room. he knows he shouldn’t, but he asks anyway.

“is americas sweetheart going to her dads award ceremony tomorrow? or is she gonna keep sulking in her apartment forever?” it’s supposed to make you feel better. somehow it kinda does. “yeah i’ll be there.” you whisper, pursing your lips. chris nods as he rubs your back gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you know you have a great support system around you, but you can’t help but feel empty. especially since deep down you know that the only support you seem to have is going to slip from your hands fairly soon.

two months out

the constant flashing coming from the photographers of the Met Gala has never felt better. the theme of the year was especially fitting for you. beauties of the past vs horrors of the future. you had numerous brands reach out to you and offer to make your outfit, but you declined all of them. you decided to wear the dress you were supposed to get married in. as much as it hurt, it was meant to be the most beautiful of memories. you don’t even feel the need to hold back tears today.

the last thing you could’ve ever expected was for matt and his brothers to be there. you had naturally lost touch with chris and nick over the months. you make your way up the Met stairs, constantly eying matt and his brothers.

once you moved forward at this event, you couldn’t move back. you’d have to wait until you got inside.

when you find your seat, you think the event coordinators must have had it out for you. three months ago, matt wasn’t even meant to be here. and now he was seated at your table. right next to you. you’re the first to sit down, ordering a dirty shirley instantly. it doesn’t take long for matt and his brothers to join you. chris greets you normally. nick greets you with a smile. matt greets you with an apology, but not until his brothers leave the table.

“i’m so sorry for what i did. you were right. i was a coward. i guess i was… i don’t know. so scared to mess it up. mess us up. mess you up. i regret hurting you everyday.” he whispers, pressing kisses to your knuckles. you let it happen, biting your lip gently. you can’t help but blush at the actions, letting the warm feeling take over you. the love between you two was still undeniable. despite all of the things that had happened in the past few

months, it was all still there. it felt like you had placed the love in a casket and begun to bury it, but were still hesitating to fully put it to rest. “you look beautiful.” he whispers, this time straight into your ear. it hurts you to go back so easily, but it’s a lot easier to go home with him

tonight rather than never have him again. you wonder if it’s all a means to hurt you. if it’s all part of his scheme to

pull you back and then let you go again. part of you is telling you to make him stop. to apologize and tell him to leave. you can’t bring yourself to do it. you’re waltzing right back into his life. it’s a dance you’re willing to learn for him.

two months and one day out.

the media had heard the news faster than you could even tell your own close friends and family. somehow, TMZ knew that you had gone home with matt before chris did. your head rested on matts bare chest, eyes staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. it was a completely new house, one he owned with nick. he’d never had you in this room before this. right now, he had you in every sense. your dress laid on the floor near the foot of the bed. your lipstick was smudged all over his face. your underwear was god knows where. it was just like old times. except this time, there was a hole in your heart. you didn’t truly know or understand why. you were so convinced that if you ever got matt back that it’d be okay again. that you’d be you again. the same hole that was made in your heart when he first left you at the altar was still there. when matt speaks, you wonder if it’s the pillow talk or his genuine self. after that day, you can’t quite tell the difference.

“you’re incredible… could never get sick of being here with you. as stupid as i may have been in the past. i love you so so much.” his words are empty. empty promises that hes trying to convince you are genuine. you want to say it back so desperately the way you used to. but it’s never going to be the same again. your mind was flipping through everything you’ve ever been through together. you wonder how many lies he had told you throughout the relationship. somehow by the end of your thoughts, the goods outweighed the bad. you’re scared to let him in again. you push it all down to just being paranoia.

three months out.

the last three months had been an absolute whirlwind of emotions. the week following the Met Gala had been one of the worst of your life. to your surprise, matt had completely ghosted you. it’s like all of his words the day that you were in his bed were nothing more than a script he read from to con girls. he was a conman and he was selling a love scheme. and you had stupidly fallen for it.

for the first time in nearly four years, you had been at a red carpet event with your father again. what used to be a time to photograph americas favorite couple had gone back to being a time to photograph americas favorite single father and his daughter. you knew that matt was one call away if you ever needed him. you would always have a red carpet date if you called. you would always have a friend if you called. you would always have him there in a way.

the hole in your heart remained there. at this point you didn’t think it would ever fade away. you didn’t think it could ever be filled again. whether you found somebody new or not, it would never be him. it would never be the same youtube boy that you had fallen in love with at your party. it was like a switch within him had been flipped. the matthew sturniolo that you once knew was gone. the boy who was once so loving. the boy who would always reassure you that you were good enough. the boy who would always express his wants for a family. the boy who was so willing to jump first if you had asked. he was gone. you weren’t too sure who this new matt even was. the one who was the new hollywood playboy. the one who would make rude comments to people in public. the one who was now known for one night stands. the media could paint things however they wanted, but this time it was accurate. this time, the matthew sturniolo you knew at one point was gone. you’d see it until the day you died. matthew sturniolo was the loss of your life.

a/n: apologies for my crimes against society. happy valentines day everybody!

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws and @13hoax

tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @user1smvtysturniolo @chrislova @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @throatgoat4u @13hoax @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @jetaimevous @bernardsbendystraws @muwapsturniolo @riasturns @camzeecorner @darksturnz @oopsiedaisydeer @zebonos AND I REALLY HOPE IM NOT MISSING ANYBODY

#⋆˙⟡snoopychris #⋆˙⟡TTPD #⋆˙⟡matt!#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo au #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo series #matthew sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #⋆˙⟡snoopychris writes #matt sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo angst

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writeriguess · 15 hours ago

Note

Having a super hard time right now so could you do a single dad kirishma or bakugo or shinsou and they’re struggling trying to juggle parenthood and being a pro then they meet y/n she’s new to their agency and she just so happens to catch their eye, just a simple receptionist but she has so many ideas. They’re so busy that they don’t even get the chance to actually meet her until one day she comes up to their office with an idea for a daycare in the agency since she’s getting so many call outs about people who don’t have child care. She offers to run/teach the daycare as well since she was a teacher back in the states before she moved and it turns out this is the key to their own problems and they slowly fall in love with her.

author's note: Hey, I just wanted to clarify something. I’ve noticed that “comfort fics” sometimes get published quickly after being requested, which might give the impression that I prioritize them. However, that’s not the case—every fic is written and published in the order it was requested.

If you requested this piece, you might have noticed that I didn’t publish it immediately after seeing it. Please know that I don’t rush requests out of order. The only time I made an exception was for an emergency request, but I now realize that was a mistake, as some people overlooked my author’s note explaining it was a one-time thing. I’m sorry for any confusion, and I appreciate your patience!

Safe in Your Hands

The constant buzzing of his phone was a persistent, grating reminder that life didn’t slow down for anyone. Not even for Katsuki Bakugo.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples as he read yet another text from the daycare. His son, Ryo, had caught a cold and needed to be picked up early—again. He wasn’t mad at the kid, never at him, but the frustration of trying to juggle being a top pro hero and a single father was wearing him thin.

His office was a mess of paperwork, mission reports, and unfinished emails. He was barely keeping his head above water, and his agency, while thriving, was in dire need of some structure. Or a miracle.

That’s when a soft knock at his door pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Come in,” he grumbled, expecting another stack of files or another meeting he didn’t have time for.

Instead, you stepped in.

“Good afternoon, Dynamight-san.”

He barely looked up at first, recognizing you as the new receptionist. You’d been here a couple of months, always polite, always handling things smoothly. He’d noticed, even if he never had the time to actually speak to you. You were a quiet force in the chaos, managing things from behind the front desk with a calm confidence.

“I, uh, hope I’m not interrupting,” you said, shifting slightly but holding your ground. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you.”

His gaze flickered up then, curiosity outweighing his exhaustion. “What kinda idea?”

You stepped forward, placing a neatly written proposal on his desk. “I’ve been getting a lot of call-outs from employees who are struggling with childcare. And I’ve noticed you’ve had to step out unexpectedly for similar reasons. I was a teacher back in the States before moving here, and I was thinking… what if we had an in-agency daycare?”

He blinked, stunned into silence for the first time in what felt like months.

“I’d be willing to help set it up, even run it,” you continued, your voice steady. “It’d give the staff some peace of mind, knowing their kids are safe while they work. And it might make things easier for you, too.”

He stared at you for a long moment, your words sinking in. No one had ever suggested something like this before. No one had ever looked at the chaos of his life and offered a solution so simple yet perfect.

“Tch,” he finally scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re serious about this?”

You nodded. “Completely.”

And just like that, something in his chest loosened.

Maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t doing this alone anymore.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Once Bakugo approved the daycare idea, you got straight to work. There were meetings to hold, rooms to convert, supplies to order, and staff to hire. Despite the long hours, you found yourself energized by the project. The employees were thrilled with the idea, and as word spread through the agency, more and more heroes began stopping by to offer assistance.

Bakugo was still a little wary, though. He wasn’t the type to trust easily, but he couldn’t deny that things were starting to feel a little less overwhelming.

One evening, as you were reviewing the final details before the daycare’s official opening, Bakugo showed up at the converted space. You looked up from your clipboard, surprised to see him standing in the doorway with Ryo in his arms. The little boy, looking sleepy and snuggled into his father’s shoulder, blinked at you drowsily.

“Figured we should do a test run,” Bakugo muttered, stepping inside. “See how the brat likes it.”

You smiled warmly. “Of course. Come on in.”

Setting Ryo down gently, Bakugo watched as the toddler hesitantly explored the room. His tiny hands ran over the soft mats, and he eyed the shelves of toys with curiosity. Slowly, he toddled toward a plush All Might figure, giving it an experimental squeeze.

You crouched down next to him. “You like that one, Ryo?”

The boy looked up at you, then at his father, before nodding shyly.

Bakugo exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Looks like it’s a hit.”

You grinned. “I think so.”

For the first time since you’d met him, you saw the tension in Bakugo’s shoulders ease slightly. Maybe this really was the answer to the problem he hadn’t been able to solve alone.

As the weeks went by, the daycare became an integral part of the agency. Parents were relieved, the kids were happy, and Bakugo—though he’d never say it outright—was grateful beyond words.

You and Bakugo started seeing more of each other, too. At first, it was just in passing—quick meetings to discuss logistics, brief encounters when he dropped Ryo off. But then, it turned into coffee breaks, conversations that stretched a little longer each day, small moments of laughter that neither of you had expected.

One evening, after a particularly long shift, Bakugo stopped by your office. You looked up, surprised to see him lingering in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said gruffly.

“Hey,” you replied, setting your pen down. “Everything okay?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah. Just… wanted to say thanks. For everything.”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. “You don’t have to thank me, Bakugo. I’m happy to help.”

His gaze softened, just a little. “Still. You’ve made shit easier for me. And for Ryo.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad. He’s a great kid.”

A rare smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah, he is.”

Silence settled between you, comfortable and warm. And in that moment, you both knew—this was just the beginning.

As months passed, your presence in Bakugo’s life became more than just professional. He found himself looking forward to seeing you every day, whether it was during a hectic morning drop-off or a quiet evening chat after work. Ryo adored you, always running to you with excitement when he saw you at the daycare.

One night, after a late shift, you were locking up when Bakugo showed up with Ryo asleep in his arms. He was exhausted, but there was something softer in his expression than usual.

“Wanna grab a late dinner?” he asked, almost shyly.

You blinked in surprise before smiling. “I’d love to.”

And just like that, everything changed. The weight on Bakugo’s shoulders didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Because for the first time in years, he wasn’t carrying it alone.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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narrycherries · 3 days ago

Text

ivy: clover blooms in the fields

she needs help and he just so happens to be the only one available..

(part 6)

mastermind / ivy series

word count: 12.3k

warnings/tags: harry x fem oc, angst, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, surgical procedure/recovery

[a/n: hi, sorry for missing a week but here u go! this is a very important part of the story so I hope u enjoy it. less angsty but still tense and frustrating for them, be patient with me we are getting to the good stuff I promise! part 7 is so good I can’t wait to give it to you!]

Waiting in a hospital room to be prepped for surgery was not how Ivy expected to spend her Wednesday evening. She had been experiencing painful aches in her stomach for the past few days, and she was familiar with the feeling but she hoped it was nothing. Maybe her period was messing up and the dates had shifted, it did that sometimes when she least expected it. The cramps and pulls of her muscles were worse than her usual period symptoms. She didn’t want to go to the emergency room, but when Emma found her in the bathroom crying her eyes out and holding her stomach, she forced her to go.

“Dad, it’s okay.” She mumbled into the phone as she closed her eyes, not wanting to be blinded by the bright hospital room lights.

Emma kept an eye on her as she sat on the uncomfortable couch across the room. She hated knowing that Ivy was feeling this bad and that she was having to have this procedure again, but she was glad to be by her side. Ivy pushed out a breath as her dad began worrying more and more.

“I can’t make it to you right now, honey. I’m.. I’m trying my best to get my boss to work with me.”

“Dad, I’m not alone. Emma’s here.. I’m going to be alright, I promise.”

“What did the doctor say? How many is it?” He was worried, and it broke her heart to know he was so far away and couldn’t get to her right now.

She took a deep breath, the pain medicine pumping through the IV in her arm was making her a little dizzy, in a good way. “Just the two.. they didn’t see any other ones.”

“I’ll try my best to-“

She cut him off. “Dad, please don’t.. it’s okay. I know you can’t change your schedule.. it’s fine, I promise. I’ll be alright. I’ve done this before.”

“You weren’t alone before.”

Her eyes opened, staring up at the ceiling. She didn’t know how to tell him any other way. She was familiar with the surgery she was going to have soon, she had been in this situation before. It wasn’t anything too serious, they caught it in time before any major issues occured. Her dad was a few hours away and she didn’t want him to try to rush to make it to her. His work schedule was tough to negotiate, so she didn’t want him to worry about it.

“Dad, please. I’m fine. I’ll call you when I get out. They said I’ll stay overnight and probably go home tomorrow afternoon.”

They went back and forth for a few more minutes, it was mostly him trying to figure how he could get to her and Ivy trying to convince him that she was going to be okay. It took a lot of bargaining, but eventually she assured him everything was fine. He didn’t want to agree to her terms, but he could tell she was getting frustrated with him. The last thing he wanted was for her to stress out and make things worse on her body. When she ended the call with her dad, her head shifted on the pillow, her eyes finding Emma.

“Is he upset?” Emma asked in a soft voice.

She sighed. “He’s not happy but.. I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I promise I’ll do my best to help.” Emma stood up, her arms folding over her chest as she walked to the hospital bed. “I won’t leave you alone, I promise.”

“Except tonight.. you can go home. I’ll have nurses to look after me.”

“Ivy, I don’t want you to be by yourself.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to sleep on that couch. I’ll be fine here.”

Emma knew there wasn’t anything else she could say to change Ivy’s mind. She was rather stubborn at times. She looked around the room, her eyes scanning over the IV tube and the medical equipment surrounding the bed. She was terrified that something could go wrong, but she didn’t want to cause any more stress to Ivy’s mind.

“Okay. Just promise me you’ll call me if you need anything.”

Ivy smiled sweetly, glad to have her in the room. “I will, Em.”

Emma’s phone dinged in her back pocket, so she fished it out and read the text. “Niall says he hopes you feel better soon.”

“Thanks.. and don’t worry.. I’m not letting you miss your little trip with him.” Ivy said with a grin.

Emma’s brows furrowed. “I have to sit with you when you’re back home. Niall can plan it for another weekend.”

“No. You’re going. He’s put a lot of thought into it.”

“Ivy, your dad is going to freak out if he finds out. I can’t leave you for that long.”

She did the quick calculation in her head. Emma and Niall had a weekend trip planned for just the two of them. He wanted to take her someone nice and just enjoy time alone. They would be gone just the weekend, Friday evening to Sunday morning.

“I’ll just need help tomorrow night and Friday morning. Then I’ll be okay to move on my own. I’ve done it before.”

Emma was not pleased with what was being suggested. “No. You were just ten minutes from your dad the last time this happened.”

Ivy let out a gentle laugh, everyone was so worried for her when she wasn’t concerned at all. “I’ll be okay. I’ll be able to get out of bed by tomorrow night anyway. I’ll be fine, Emma.”

There was no more time to argue about the arrangements anymore. They’d have to continue on after the surgery was over. The nurse came in and told them it was time to get ready. Ivy wasn’t nervous, partly due to the fact she had pain medicine spilling through her body. She was calm and collected, whereas Emma was starting to worry herself into a panic. She called Niall as soon as the nurse gave her directions on where to wait. He was going to come up to the hospital if he could get someone to cover his shift at the store, he didn’t want them to be alone.

Ivy was wheeled to the operating room, where they went over everything again with her and assured her she’d be fine. It didn’t take long for them to put her to sleep and begin the surgery.

Emma’s heart was racing as she sat next to Niall, his arm secured around her shoulders as he tried his best to comfort her. She was worried beyond belief for Ivy. He was grateful that one of his employees was able to come in and take over his shift so he could be here for them. Emma was waiting half an hour before he was finally able to come.

“So.. what exactly is going on?” He asked with a bit of confusion, Emma had really explained it to him yet she just called and told him there was an emergency.

She took a deep breath and shifted so that she was leaning on him, her body feeling exhausted from all the constant worrying. “She was hurting really bad.. and when we came to the ER they did some scans and stuff. She has two cysts on her ovary.”

“Is that a bad thing? Like, are they dangerous?”

“I mean, they’re not dangerous but.. they can be. She’s had them before, a few times actually. She said they can get really big and they sorta weigh on the area. They cause crazy cramps and aches. She was hurting really bad, Niall.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “But they can remove them, yeah? Get it all out before it causes any damage?”

“Yeah, they can. It’s a good thing they found them. She said sometimes cysts aren’t a big deal. I could have one right now and it could never bother me. But sometimes they just get.. in the way and cause issues.”

Niall nodded his head slowly, absorbing all the information. He wasn’t familiar with the subject matter, but he was glad that Ivy had successfully made it through this before and it didn’t sound too bad. With anything, though, it could’ve gotten worse. Ivy had a close call when she was a teenager, and that was the scariest moment of her life. Thankfully, the few other times she’s had to deal with the cysts, they’ve been much smaller and less aggressive.

“Was she scared before going back?”

Emma smiled gently at the thought of how relaxed Ivy had been. “No, she was calm. I mean.. the medicine helped that. But even before.. when they told her what was going on.. she was calm.”

“Experience plays a role in that, I’m sure.” Niall mumbled back.

“She doesn’t want me to stay with her this weekend. She wants us to go on our trip.” Emma turned her head to look at him, a pout evident on her face.

“We can reschedule, babe. I don’t mind.”

“She refuses to let me stay home. She wants us to go.”

Niall let out a sigh, not sure what he could really do about it. If Ivy didn’t want Emma to miss their trip and insisted she go, then he’d just go along with it. If Emma felt uncomfortable going out of town during her recovery, then he’d be fine with staying home. Apparently, Ivy wasn’t going to let that happen. She didn’t want them to stop their lives for her.

“If we stay home.. she might get angry with me.”

“How long do they expect her to stay here?” He asked, a thought popping into his mind. Before he could bring it up, he needed some details.

“If all goes well, she’ll be discharged tomorrow. They said it's a quick procedure with low risk complications. She’s had it before and never had an issue.” Emma said, picking at her thumbnail as she considered the what ifs.

“So.. you’ll be home tomorrow with her.. and Friday until it’s time for us to go.” Niall said, thinking his way through a plan that might benefit everyone. It would keep Ivy looked after and calm Emma’s nerves. “We can ask Michelle if she can check on her. Maybe stay with her Friday and Saturday night.”

Emma sat up, Niall’s arm falling from her shoulders. “I didn’t think about that. Do you think she’d do it?”

He laughed a little. “M’sure if we ask and she’s available, she’ll do it. She loves being around Ivy.”

“I just can’t leave her alone. I’d worry too much. Her dad can’t get out of work until Monday. She’d really be by herself, Niall.”

“We won’t let her be alone.” He assured her, reaching up to press his hand on her back. “Don’t worry too much.”

“Can you text Michelle?” The desperation in her tone made him softly smile. He was admiring her concern for Ivy, how much this was affecting her. Emma didn’t want anything to happen to her.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes went straight to the clock on the wall a cross from them, she was very impatient and wanted to know what was going on in the operating room. The doctor promised he’d let her know if anything bad was going on. She was just sick to her stomach at the thought of Ivy experiencing some kind of bad complication. Niall sent a quick text to Michelle, explaining briefly the situation they were in. He was hoping she wasn’t busy and would answer fast.

“She’s typing.” He uttered under his breath, capturing Emma’s attention.

She leaned over, her eyes burning holes through the screen of his phone. A message popped up and Niall read over it, a subtle frown shaping to his lips. Michelle was unfortunately unable to help out. She had already made a commitment to other plans for the weekend.

“Damn it.” Emma groaned, that worry building up higher and higher.

“Relax, sweetheart. I’ll see if anyone else can help out.”

Emma sat back in the chair, her head falling against the wall. She knew Ivy didn’t have anyone else in her family she would rely on during a time like this. Her dad was stuck, unable to get out of his scheduled work hours. She was the only person Ivy had that could take care of her. It was scary to think about leaving her alone.

After a little while of texting back and forth with everyone in their small circle, Niall came up short with a solution. He let out a sigh as one final idea popped into his mind. There was no other option left, aside from them staying home for the weekend. Ivy didn’t want that to happen, though. Maybe she’d change her mind if she knew what her only choice was.

“Well.. I have an idea.. but I don’t know if Ivy will like it.” Niall said as he handed Emma his phone so she could read over the text he just sent.

Her eyes widened and she looked over at him. “She’s going to hate this.”

—•—

The following day was going better than Emma ever could have imagined. Ivy was awake eating some of the soft foods the hospital provided for her, since she couldn’t eat a lot for a couple of days. She was in a rather pleasant mood, despite all she had gone through in the past few days. Ivy had been checked out by her doctor just an hour ago and he assured them that she was on the right path of healing. Her incision was looking well. Luckily, they didn’t have to add another scar to her body. They were able to go through the healed cut from her last surgery. She knew how to take care of it, how to make sure it stayed clean. They approved her discharge for later in the evening.

“Niall’s going to come get us and take us home.” Emma said with a hesitant voice, she hadn’t mentioned the arrangement Niall made for Ivy yet. “He can help you get inside and to the bedroom.”

“Okay, thanks. I really appreciate it.” She smiled back, content with the idea.

The only thing Emma could come up with as a lie. “Niall’s going to see if Alyssa can come over while we’re gone and check on you.”

Ivy nodded. “That would be nice.”

“He’s waiting for her to get back to him.” Emma continued her lie.

“This morning when they came in before you got here.. they told me I might experience some soreness for a few days, but they’re giving me a prescription for pain medicine. I don’t want you to worry too much about me.”

Emma sighed. “I have to worry, Ivy.”

“I’ll be okay.” She tried to give her a comforting smile, but she could tell Emma was stressed.

As much as Ivy wanted to keep assuring her everything would turn out fine in the end, she didn’t want to upset her. So, they both went quiet and just watched whatever was playing on the television hanging on the wall. Ivy didn’t know how her pain tolerance would be once she was out of the hospital, but she was hoping it was good. She never had any recovery problems with her previous surgeries, so she highly assumed this one would be good, too.

While they waited for the discharge to begin, she got a call from her dad who was still very much upset over the whole situation. Ivy calmed him down though by letting him know someone would be taking care of her over the weekend. She mentioned Emma, even though she wouldn’t be there, just to make sure her dad knew someone would be there. If he knew Emma was leaving, he would just freak out more.

After the call ended, she closed her eyes just to relax and sink back into her thoughts for a bit. Her dad wasn’t very emotional with her while she was growing up, and it got worse once her brother passed. But that didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t care about her, of course he did. He just had an odd way of showing it most of the time. Now, he was very worried and made sure to let her know he was going to come see her as soon as he could. She was grateful for his care, but she didn’t want to disturb his life. Just like with Emma and Niall, she didn’t want them to cancel their plans just to sit with her for a few days. She hated feeling like a burden, and she tried her best to explain that to Emma.

In the late afternoon, when everything was finalized with her discharge, Niall came to pick the girls up from the hospital. He had dropped Emma off that morning, so she didn’t have a way back anyway. He assisted the nurse in getting Ivy safely into the car from the wheelchair they brought her out in. Emma insisted she sit in the front since it would be easier to get out of the car once they got home. Ivy didn’t want to at first, but Niall gave her no choice.

He shut the door and met Emma at the back of the car. “Have you told her yet?”

She shook her head, keeping her voice to a whisper just in case. “No.. I’m waiting until tomorrow.”

Niall sighed. “Why? What if she doesn’t want it to happen?”

“Then we’ll stay home this weekend and reschedule.”

He wasn’t thrilled with Emma’s decision to hold off on the conversation he deemed to be very important, but he didn’t intervene. They both got in the car and soon started the trip back to their house. Ivy was comfortable for now, the pain medicine numbing any possible aches in her stomach. She felt odd riding in the car after getting so used to sitting in a bed, but she was ready to be home. The hospital bed was not as comfortable as her own, plus she wanted to be surrounded by her personal belongings and not light grey walls and sanitized counters.

It was nerve wracking trying to help Ivy get inside and to her bedroom, but Niall tried his best to be gentle with her. Emma held the door open, watching carefully as Niall guided her in. He was much stronger than Emma and could hold Ivy upright, assisting her as she walked carefully step by step. She wasn’t trying to rush inside, she was patient with herself and glad that Niall was, too.

“Sorry, Niall.” She muttered out as he finally got over the threshold of the door.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re doing fine.” He assured her as Emma moved behind them to shut the door.

She quickly ran to Ivy’s room to open the door. She cut on the light and went to the bed, pulling the covers back and adjusting the pillows so she’d be comfortable. Niall was moving at Ivy’s slow pace, reminding her every few moments that she was doing well. He didn’t want her to get into a hurry and hurt herself. Emma was making sure things were tidy in her room, just in case there were clothes laying around she figured Ivy wouldn’t want Niall to see. But her room was clean and there was nothing in the way. She looked around, thinking of other things she can do to help out.

They finally made it to the bedroom, Niall’s arm still wrapped around Ivy’s waist as he helped her make it to the bed. She let him go and carefully sat down on the side of the bed, a small grunt coming from her mouth.

“That wasn’t so bad, yeah?” He said with a smile as she looked up at him, she appeared to be exhausted.

“It was alright.”

“Do you want me to get you anything right now?” Emma asked as she watched her scoot back in the bed, trying to find a comfortable spot.

Ivy winced, her stomach slightly aching from all the moving around. “No, not right now.”

“Remember to move around as much as you can.” Niall said, giving her a stern look. “You don’t need to sit here all weekend.”

She let out a laugh. “I know, I know. But right now.. I need to rest.”

After a few moments, she got adjusted in the bed and felt like she could actually relax and hopefully get some sleep. She didn’t need to sleep all day, nor sit in the bed. The doctor made it clear that she needed to move around and be active when she could, but it was okay to rest when she needed to. She was familiar with the recovery plan and kept in mind all the things she did previously.

“Do you girls need anything else?” Niall asked.

Emma shook her head. “I don’t. Ivy?”

“No, I’m okay. Thanks, Niall, for helping.” She gave him a polite smile.

“No worries. If you need anything, let me know.”

Emma walked Niall to the door, telling him multiple times how grateful she was for his help. He was glad to know he could be of assistance. They hugged and said their goodbyes, but not before Niall reminded her she needed to tell Ivy the plan soon. She ignored him and said she’d get to it eventually. Once he was gone, Emma returned to Ivy’s room with a reusable bottle full of ice water and a small notebook.

“Alright.. tell me some things you want me to get at the grocery store. I know you’ll need some softer foods for a while.” She said as she sat down at Ivy’s vanity, a pen in her hand as she was waited to start the list.

Ivy tried to tell her it wasn’t a big deal and she could eat what was in the house already, but Emma wasn’t going to accept that. She wanted to make sure she had everything Ivy needed and wanted for the weekend. So, after a bit of nagging, Ivy finally gave in and listed off some items.

—•—

Ivy let out a grunt as she stood up from the toilet. She was not having a good day at all. The morning was tough, she tried to get up and move around the house but every step she took sent a shock wave of pain through her body. She didn’t wake Emma up, just suffered on her own as she tried to scramble a couple of eggs. Emma did get up when she smelled the food, rushing to find Ivy leaning on the counter with her face scrunched up, holding in the pain.

She was not pleased with Ivy doing all this work on her own, despite her claiming she was fine. Emma finished the cooking and then helped her back to the bedroom afterwards. They sat in her bedroom for a while, talking about different things to try and distract her from the uncomfortable feelings. Emma was deeply concerned about her, but Ivy kept pushing it off.

After refusing to eat anything for lunch, Ivy tried to make it to the bathroom to get in the shower. Although the doctor approved her for taking one after Emma insisted she call and double check, Ivy was being talked out of it. Emma was terrified she’d lose her balance and be too weak to catch herself, resulting in her falling and hurting herself even more. She tried her best to convince Emma it would be fine, but she lost the battle. Emma said she should just wait until the next day. She helped Ivy wash up with a wet hand towel, but Ivy wasn’t pleased with the outcome. She wanted to be clean.

Niall was supposed to come pick Emma up for the trip in an hour, so she figured it would be best to mention the plan to Ivy. She tapped on the door and heard a quiet ‘come in’. Emma put on a smile as she saw that Ivy was sitting up in the bed, her journal resting on her lap. She was glad to see she had busied herself with something.

“Hey, feeling okay?” Emma’s smile dropped to frown as Ivy’s head lifted and she saw how sad she looked. “Ivy, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “ I.. I thought I’d feel better.. but I don’t know. I’m really sore.” Ivy had tears swelling in her eyes as she pressed her hand over her covered incision.

“Do you want me to stay home?” Emma felt like she was letting her down. “I swear, it’s no big deal.”

“No, Emma.” She whined out, squeezing her eyes shut as a wave of dull pain flooded through her torso. It was much more bearable than the aches the cysts had caused. “You said.. something about.. Alyssa coming over? I can.. I can pay her.”

A lump began to grow in Emma’s throat as reality was quickly crashing in It was no longer an option to keep the secret from her. Guilt was building in her gut as she realized she shouldn’t have waited this long to begin with. Ivy didn’t notice how nervous Emma got, her eyes were closed as she tried to fight through the pain.

“Well, she can’t. Niall asked around and.. everyone is unavailable.. except.. one person.” Emma’s voice trailed off to a whisper.

“Who is it?” Ivy’s brain was so fogged from all the medicine and the uncomfortable sensations happening in her body that she couldn’t come up with any ideas on her own. She tried to think of people she knew, but she was coming up short.

Emma started to fumble with her own fingers, a nervous feeling taking over. “Ivy, I.. I think I should just stay. You’re not going to like the idea.”

Ivy groaned at the mention of the trip being canceled. “I don’t care who it is, Emma. Just need someone to check on me.”

There was a quiet moment that seemed to last forever. Emma had to gather up the courage to finally tell Ivy what was going to happen while they were gone. There was no turning back now.

Niall chuckled as Ivy pushed out a huff once she landed softly on the couch. She wanted to get out of the bed for a while and attempt to move around. She figured it wouldn’t be hard to navigate from the couch to the kitchen. Emma came in with her bag, sitting it next to the door before going to give Ivy a hug.

“I’ll text you as much as I can.” She whispered into her ear before standing up.

“Don’t spend your whole trip thinking about me.” Ivy grinned, shifting her eyes to Niall. “Keep her occupied.”

A smirk shaped to his lips. “That’s the goal.”

“We’ll check in.” Emma added, still nervous about leaving her.

Ivy opened her mouth to say something back, but a knock on the door stopped her. Niall looked over his shoulder, already knowing who was behind the door. He walked away from the girls to answer it. Everyone seemed to be a tad bit on edge, especially Ivy, who’s smile faded to a straight line on her face. Her eyes moved down to her own lap, looking at her chipped nail polish.

“Hey.” Niall’s voice filled the quiet room. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

The remnants of physical pain were pushed aside as anxiety claimed possession of Ivy’s body. She never thought she’d hear Harry’s deep voice roll through her house like thunder filling a stormy sky. She held her breath as footsteps tracked in. Niall shut the door and turned to face him. Emma just stared at Ivy, trying to figure out how she was feeling.

Harry was their only option. Everyone else had things they couldn’t get out of for the weekend. Earlier, when Emma told Ivy about Harry, she figured her mind would change and the plans with Niall would be rearranged for another time. But Ivy didn’t cave in to the fear. She was determined to not let herself care or worry about it. He was just going to check on her, surely she could handle that.

She was listening as Niall was explaining to him what all he needed to do and what he needed to watch out for. He mentioned how the soreness and pain could come in sudden waves. Ivy wasn’t too concerned with what Niall was saying until a specific response from Harry made her head spin towards them.

“So, I’m staying the weekend, right?”

“Yeah. Emma’s gonna grab some blankets for you before we leave. Couch is actually comfortable. I’ve napped on it a few times.”

Ivy interrupted the conversation, her voice wasn’t as loud as she hoped but she still caught their attention. “Nobody said anything about staying the night.”

“Ivy, you can’t be alone right now.” Emma started, carefully resting her hand on Ivy’s leg. “You hardly made it to the bathroom by yourself earlier. I don’t want you to fall or trip or anything like that. If you get stronger by tomorrow, then he can go home and just stop by.”

“Nobody asked me about this.”

Emma felt a punch to her gut, she had made another mistake. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset. Ivy, you can't be by yourself right now.”

“You’re a lot weaker than you might realize, Ivy.” Niall walked over to them, a half smile on his face as he tried to be helpful and not make things worse. “If someone is here to help you walk around, you can build your strength up a lot quicker.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” Harry took a few steps forward, his eyes landing on Ivy as he spoke. “As promised.”

“He won’t do anything stupid or I’ll kick his ass.” Niall gave her a chuckle, and it actually made her smile. “And.. there’s something he has to say to you.”

Watching Niall give Harry a stern look pulled a giggle from her, she was amused by how Niall acted like a father figure in this moment. Emma couldn’t help but laugh, too. Harry rolled his eyes and gave Niall a lift of his middle finger. Niall just smirked and crossed his arms, waiting for the statement he made Harry agree to give.

Ivy’s heart skipped a beat as Harry’s eyes moved back onto her. She didn’t know what to expect from him. This entire situation was insane, she couldn’t wrap her head around it. How did she end up in this predicament? Nobody else could stay with her aside from him, that was just her luck..

“I’m sorry for.. yelling at you. I was drunk and overreacted.” He said, not too thrilled about having to apologize to the girl but glad he finally got it off his chest. Even if it wasn’t his initial idea to say it, he wanted to..

Her mind brought up memories of that night just a few weeks ago. She so easily remembered the anger that covered his face and the loud yells that he couldn’t seem to hold back. She wanted to be furious with him now like she had then, and the days following when her diary caught hell about it. But she couldn't find it in her to be angry at this very moment. Perhaps it was the medicine lurking in her veins, clouding her judgement and making her more susceptible to being nice.

“It’s alright.” She finally mumbled out, her eyes falling from his.

“Good, now everyone’s back on good terms.” Niall clapped his hands together. “Let me show you where everything is.”

Niall gestured for Harry to follow him down the hall, leaving the girls alone. Emma instantly turned to Ivy and started to apologize.

“I’m sorry. I really am, Ivy. I know you.. you can’t stand to be around him, but please, please just let him look after you.” She was trying to make up for everything, despite Ivy actually not being that mad. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

She let a smile cover her lips. “Emma, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? God, that medicine must be strong.”

“Yeah, I think it’s working too well.”

They shared a laugh, even though it hurt Ivy to contract the muscles in her stomach. She pushed her hair out of her face, wishing it was pulled back altogether. The plan to have Harry stick around for a few days was not something she would have come up with on her own, but she was somewhat glad he was going to be there. As much as she tried to act like she was fine all day, it was tough on her body. She was struggling, no matter how hard she tried to lie to Emma and Niall, it was painful to move sometimes. The medicine only worked for so long, and there was a waiting period she had to take in between doses. It was going to be a long weekend, but at least she wouldn’t be alone..

After they left, Ivy started to regret agreeing to let Harry be the one to look after her. His imposing stature and cold demeanor were already seeping into every inch of her home. There was an obvious opposition from him, his presence alone was causing resentment. She tried her best to look past it, hoping maybe he’d warm up to her and get used to be in her home. When she stopped by his shared space with Niall that time, she felt awkward being in their home. Perhaps this behavior was normal in a different way for him.

He sat down in the armchair adjacent to her, his body falling against the back of the chair and his hands hitting his thighs. He looked around, somewhat curious about the room. Without looking her way, he spoke.

“So, what’s the plan? What am I supposed to do?”

She took a deep breath and remained courageous - this was her home after all, he couldn’t intimidate her here. “I have two rules. One, don’t come in my room.”

He let out a short laugh. “How am I supposed to check on you if I can’t come in your room?”

“Knock and I’ll come to the door, I need to move around anyway.”

Harry lifted his brows, not sure why she was making this more difficult than it had to be. “You could fall, you know. That’s the point of me being here.. to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I can make it to the door.”

“Whatever, what’s the second rule?”

She was somewhat surprised he was engaging in a conversation with her, but it was obvious they couldn’t get away with ignoring each other this time. He still wasn’t looking at her, he opted to stare at the books on the coffee table that were neatly stacked. He figured they were just for decoration, but he had a small wonder if they had been read by her eyes

“Don’t wake me up. If I’m asleep, just leave me alone.”

He made a confused expression. “How will I know if you’re awake or not if I can’t open the door?”

“Text me. I’ll have my phone next to me the whole time.” Her sass returned to her tone.

He smirked lightly, but she wasn’t paying him any visual attention. “I don’t have your number.”

“Well, give me your phone.”

Harry was amused by her quick and sharp replies. He was used to her hesitant mumbles and nervous glances. He stood up and reached into his pocket for his phone, quickly unlocking it before handing it to her. He watched as she opened his contacts and added her name and number into a new listing.

“There, now you have it.”

He sighed as he sat back down. “There’s only two rules?”

She pursed her lips as she thought about it. “For now, yeah.”

“Alright, well.. what do you want to do? Stay here or go to your room?” Harry didn’t quite know what to expect from her, but he assumed she wouldn’t want to be around him.

“Stay here for now.” She said, picking up the remote from beside her.

He rose to his feet again. “I gotta go get my bag. Don’t fall off the couch before I get back.”

A chuckle rolled past his lips as she snarled her lip and rolled her eyes at him, finding no humor in his comment.

He was only gone a few short minutes, but Ivy couldn’t help herself from getting lost in her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about him, didn’t want to get so obsessed with her admiration for him. Why wasn’t he being more rude to her? Why wasn’t he treating her like he usually did? Was he doing this only because he owed Niall a favor?

When Harry came back in, he dropped his bag next to the armchair and sat down again, this time his eyes shifted to where Ivy was placed on the couch. Before he could say something, she blurted out a sentence.

“I don’t think I need much help.. I don’t know why they insisted on someone being here.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. “Niall said your knees were weak and shaking when you got out of bed earlier. Sounds to me like you need help.”

She crossed her arms on her chest, avoiding his eyes. “My legs were asleep.. that’s all.”

“Sure.” His response was sarcastic, but the words that followed seemed more genuine. “What happened to you anyway?”

She turned her head, meeting the stare she could feel burning through her skin. “I had emergency surgery.. I had a few cysts that were hurting me. Niall didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head, changing his stare to just a gaze as he blinked. “He didn’t specify.. said he didn’t want to tell your business without your consent.”

Ivy was appreciative of that. As much as she trusted Niall and wouldn’t have minded if he told everyone what happened, she was glad he was mindful of her privacy. She decided to look away from him.

“It’s nothing serious.. I’ve had them before. Sometimes they become aggressive and have to come out.”

“Where were they?”

“Um, on my ovary.”

Harry listened with more intensity than he ever had when it came to her. He wanted to understand what was going on in case an emergency unfolded while he was on duty here. Plus, he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t concerned for her. She is a human being after all, not just a soulless body.

“But you’re alright? Like.. they’re not tumors?”

Ivy felt a spark go off in her chest. Why did he seem so concerned? No, she was just overthinking it. She had an emergency surgery, people were going to be curious about the reason. She pushed aside the feeling and let out a soft sigh.

“No, they’re not tumors.”

He went quiet after that, just gave her a nod when she glanced his way. There was still apprehension radiating from her, still that what if feeling. What if she said something he didn’t like and he went off on her? What if he was just pretending to care so he can use it against her when he’s mean to her again? What if he actually cared..

Neither of them spoke for over an hour and a half. Ivy kept her eyes on the television and Harry stayed on his phone, mindlessly scrolling. She didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. He ended up asking her if she wanted anything to eat, but she said she was fine and she ate earlier. That was a lie. She was too nervous to eat. He made sure she didn’t want anything a few minutes later, double checking just in case she changed her mind. She hated feeling like a bother, she didn’t want to burden him with making her food. She assured him she was fine.

It wasn’t much longer when she stretched her arms above her head and yawned, catching his attention. She shifted closer to the edge of the couch, about to stand up when Harry got up to help her. He held his hand out, but she just looked up at him.

“M’fine.”

He sighed lightly. “Do you need my help?”

As she stood up, still ignoring his hand, she turned away from him so she could head towards her room. “No.. just walk behind me.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he took a step closer to her, she wasn’t moving very fast so he didn’t have to go far. “You don’t need to risk falling.”

“I’m okay.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

Ivy grunted, wanting to scream but she refrained. “Because I had surgery on my stomach, not my legs. It was a minimally invasive procedure.. they didn’t chop me up.”

She was glad he didn’t give her a snarky remark. He stayed behind her, his hand out in case he needed to grab her, and followed her to her room. Ivy’s steps were delicate, her eyes glued to the floor. She was able to walk on her own, but after a few feet her legs began to get weak. She stopped to take a quick break.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” She quickly said, squeezing her eyes shut.

She had to gather up all her strength before walking again. This time she was moving faster, in hopes to get it over with. The doctor instructed her to walk as much as she could to gain her energy. While her legs weren’t operated on, the scar on her lower torso was painful as her body shifted - each press of her foot to the floor created pressure.

“Okay. See, I made it.” She said with a sigh of relief as she reached her bedroom door.

He moved beside her so he could see her face. “And you’re sure you can make it to your bed?”

“Yes.”

Harry didn’t believe her, but he wasn’t going to go against her rule. She didn’t want him in her private space, and he was going to respect that wish. Maybe her bed was close to the door and she could get there quickly?

“Alright.”

She turned the handle, about to push the door open, when she stopped and looked up at him. “Did they give you the pillow and blankets?”

“Yeah.”

“If you get cold.. you can turn the air up.”

He gave her a nod. “Alright, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll, um, text you when I get up.”

Harry licked his lips quickly. “Call me.. in case I’m asleep.”

“Okay. Thanks for sort of helping me.” She shrugged her shoulders, then slipped into her room, shutting the door behind her.

As much as he wanted to wait until he knew she was in the bed, he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy, so he went back to the living room. He shut off the lights after laying the covers on the couch. It felt odd to be on a couch, but he easily got comfortable. Ivy was already bundled under blankets. She drank a bit of water with her nighttime dose of pain medicine, getting in a comfortable position so she wasn’t hurting. Before long, they were both asleep.

—•—

Ivy hoped it had all been a dream, that none of it ever happened. Her stomach wasn’t healing from a surgical cut, her body wasn’t exhausted, and Harry wasn’t in her living room sleeping on the couch. But unfortunately for her, it was all real. A groan slipped through her lips as her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the volume was purposely lowered so that nobody would disturb her slumber. She wanted to sleep in as long as possible so she could be away from Harry. To her dismay, his name was lit up on the screen when she brought it close to her eyes.

She answered with a groggy voice. “Hello?”

“Are you awake?”

She huffed back. “I am now.”

“You need to come eat something. What do you want?” He said through a sigh, hoping she wouldn’t be as difficult today as she had been the evening before.

“Nothing.. M’not hungry.”

“It’s past eleven.. you need to come eat something.”

She felt like she could sleep for another ten hours, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She had to get up and be active, it was the only way she would get her energy back to normal.

“I don’t want anything.” She told him again. “But m’getting up.”

“Are you coming out of your room?” He asked with a less stern voice than he had been using.

“Yeah. I can’t lay down all day.”

“Alright.”

She wondered if he would just come to her door if she had to ask him, since she was so insistent on not needing any help before. She could tell she would be weak once her feet hit the floor.

“Can you.. come to my room?”

“Yeah, that’s my job, isn’t it?” He wasn’t cocky with his words, he spoke in a normal tone.

She smiled softly. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll be right there.” She swore she could hear a smile.

Ivy hung up after that, telling him she needed a few minutes to get dressed. She knew she’d have to use the bathroom before she went to the living room, so she tried to mentally prepare for that. It didn’t take her very long to put on a tshirt and a pair of cotton shorts, something she’d be comfortable in all day. She moved carefully as she dressed and soon found herself at the door. She wasn’t feeling too bad yet, but she knew she’d need to take the medicine before she left the room.

She held back a groan as she twisted around to go back to the nightstand where the orange bottle was waiting for her. She took one of the pain medication pills, making a mental note of the time so she wouldn’t take it too early later on. Finally, she made it back to the door where Harry had been waiting with his shoulder pressed against the hallway wall.

“Admitting to yourself that you need help today?” He said with a smirk she didn’t find appealing.

“M’tired, not weak.” She muttered out as he bent his arm and stuck it out for her. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Ivy tried to be confident with her movements, hoping to not make a big deal out of it in her head. So, she grabbed onto the inside of his elbow and secured her other hand on his forearm, holding on so that he could assist her to the bathroom. He led her at a steady, slow pace so that she wouldn’t trip over her feet. She was mindful of her steps, glancing down every so often to check her footing. She slipped off his arm as she reached the bathroom, leaving him in the hall to wait patiently. As much as he didn’t want to be here, he wasn’t completely irritated by having to help her. He wouldn’t want someone to leave him alone if he were in a similar situation, and just because they didn’t get along doesn’t mean he wanted the girl to get hurt even more.

“Have you decided to eat now?” He said as she came out of the bathroom.

She pushed out a deep breath. “No.”

He shook his head lightly, not believing her at all. He let her take his arm again, she returned to the same position. It wasn’t as awkward as either of them expected it to be. She was focused on not falling or straining her stomach, instead of on the fact she was touching his very strong, toned arm. And Harry was just watching her closely, not thinking about anything other than not letting her fall. He knew he’d be quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground.

When they got to the living room, he guided her to the couch and she chose the spot on the left side so she could prop up against the corner. He asked her if she needed anything and her only request was a cup of ice water. She was very content with his decent behavior, he didn’t seem to be as vicious as he normally was.

“Have you taken your medicine?” Harry asked as he sat down in the armchair, claiming the spot as his own for the time being.

Ivy was looking at the neatly stacked pile of the two blankets and pillow that he used to sleep with last night. It sat perfectly on the other end of the couch. She shifted her eyes to him, realizing how far away he was.

“Yeah, I took it before I left my room.”

He slowly nodded, looking down at his phone for a moment before moving his eyes up. “I don’t want this to be weird for you.”

Her brows dropped a little. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home. I know this.. isn’t what you wanted to happen, and you probably don’t want me around, but I don’t want you to feel awkward about it.”

Ivy was slightly taken aback by what he was saying. He didn’t give her the impression of being someone who considered another’s feelings or thoughts. She looked away from him the moment he ran his hand through his long hair, pushing it back from his face. What could she say that was nice and not rude in any way? She didn’t want to be unintentionally mean.

“I mean it’s not.. my ideal situation, but it’s fine. I’m kinda glad someone’s here with me. I’m not uncomfortable.”

He was no longer looking at her either. “I know we don’t necessarily get along, but I just want you to know I wouldn’t do anything on purpose to make you uncomfortable while I’m here.”

“Harry, I’m not uncomfortable. I have to get used to it, yeah, but it’s not that bad. Like I said, I’m glad I have some help. I.. I’m a bit worse off than I thought I’d be.”

He was silent for a long moment, making her fear that she didn’t say what he wanted to hear. What if he blew all this out of proportion and left her stranded? A nervous feeling bubbled in her gut, was he going to get frustrated if they kept talking about this? It wasn’t an easy conversation and she knew he didn’t handle that sort of thing well.

“I’ll do my best to help, but I’ll give you some space.” He sat up in the chair, about to stand but he stopped when she looked towards him.

“Are you leaving?” Her voice had softened since the last time she spoke.

“No, I’m just going to sit at the table for a while.” He made it to his feet this time. “I’ve got something I need to work on.”

“Okay.” She watched as he reached into his bag and pulled out a thick book she thought resembled a journal.

Harry gave her one last look before he walked past her, heading to the kitchen. Ivy was confused to say the least. What he brought up sounded so sincere and serious. She was surprised by it, but she was glad he said what he said. Maybe he didn’t hate her that much after all? It was evident he knew they shared a lot of tension.. but perhaps it was more bearable than she thought.

For almost an hour, Harry sat at the table and quietly wrote in his journal. Ivy wasn’t sure what exactly he was writing, and she didn’t dare ask him. Maybe it was something personal or just work related. She kept her eyes on the movie she picked to watch, but after a while her stomach started to grumble. She bit down on her cheek as she felt a layer of drowsiness fall over her brain. She was feeling the effects of the medication, the subtle pain from her incision was gone for now and her brain was a tad foggy.

She couldn’t stand it anymore, she needed something to eat. She thought about getting up, but she was entirely too comfortable. She had maneuvered herself on the couch so her legs were stretched out and she was leaning into the corner, a throw blanket over her.

“Harry.” She said his name, but she was unaware of just how soft she was speaking.

He didn’t answer her right away as she expected, so she tried again. Maybe he was focused and just didn’t hear her.

“Harry.” Her chirp was more audible this time.

“Yes?” He called back from the kitchen, his eyes lifting up to peer her way.

The open layout made it easy for him to see her from the small table. She hadn’t moved at all, she was in the same spot as when he looked at her the last time. He gave her glances every now and then to make sure she was alright. She was talking again, but he couldn’t hear her over the television. He stood up and started the short trip to the living room. She furrowed her brows and frowned as she realized he wasn’t talking back to her. Just as she was about to move to sit up, he appeared in front of her.

“I couldn’t hear you.” He said, his towering height made her feel small.

“M’kinda hungry.” She mumbled out, her eyes were wider than usual, her lips rolled to a pout.

“What would you like?”

“I dunno.”

He was being patient with her, since it was obvious her mentality had changed slightly. He could tell she was drowsy. He wasn’t a stranger to the common side effects of painkillers, so he easily recognized she was experiencing them.

“Pick something. You need to eat.”

Ivy rolled her lips in as she thought for a minute about the options. She could eat solid food by now, it had been long enough since the surgery but she didn’t want something that was too heavy as she was dealing with gentle waves of nausea.

“Can you make me some oatmeal?”

He couldn’t resist the subtle smile that tugged on his lips. “Where’s the stuff in the cabinets?”

She shook her head. “We have some packets.”

“You want instant oatmeal?” He asked with a light laugh.

She felt a little unsure about his reply, it made her feel silly. Was he making fun of her? Of course, it was just the worry in her mind mixed with the dazing effect of the medicine that was causing this.

“Yes.. The apple cinnamon one if there’s any left. That’s my favorite.”

Harry realized she was speaking very calm and gentle, like she was unable to speak any louder. Her eyes had dropped to her lap where she rubbed her fingers against the back of her other hand. This wasn’t the usual girl he was used to dealing with - even when she became shy with him, she was never this quiet. Her demeanor was very different, more fragile than ever before. He didn’t want to risk talking too harsh to her, so he tried his best to stay calm and on a level she would appreciate.

“I could make you some fresh oatmeal, you know.” He tried offering.

She frowned. “No, I want the packet, please.”

He let out a soft sigh. “Okay, where are they at?”

“The pantry.. next to the cereal.”

A feeling he so rarely got occurred when she tilted her head back and looked at him - a feeling he had only a few times, all to which were because of her. A flutter in his heart nearly stopped it, his chest tightened and he felt his lungs weighing down. Something about the way she looked at him, her face so softened, her eyes wide - she looked like an angel.

“Alright.” He managed to get out something. “Do you want me to add any sugar?”

She considered it, but shook her head. “No, but just a little bit of extra cinnamon.”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, Harry.” She whispered to him.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

Ivy waited patiently as Harry microwaved the oatmeal for her. He wasn’t too keen on her eating the prepackaged stuff when he was perfectly capable of cooking it fresh for her, but it was her choice. She seemed to be used to it, especially her favorite kind. He was just glad she was finally eating something.

When he brought it to her, he made sure to ask if she needed anything else. She requested a banana from the basket on the island, so he went and got it for her.

“Thanks.” She muttered as she sat the banana next to her.

“You’re welcome.”

“Thanks for making this.” She said, sniffing the oatmeal she scooped onto the spoon. “It smells good.”

“You don’t have to thank me for everything.” He reminded her.

She didn’t say anything, just gave him a glance before focusing on the oatmeal. She had to blow on the spoonfuls to cool them down. Harry had already walked back to the table when she called his name, turning her head to look for him.

“Yeah?” He hadn’t sat down yet, so he made his way back to her.

“Can you get me a napkin?”

He nodded, turning back to go to the kitchen. He was actually glad she was utilizing him, he didn’t want her to be nervous to ask him to do something. When he gave her the napkin, she mumbled a soft thank you in return.

Ivy ate the oatmeal slowly, savoring the bites each time. Harry had returned to the table, picking up where he left off with whatever he was writing. After sitting for a bit once the food was gone, she realized she needed to use the bathroom, all the water she had been drinking was catching up to her.

“Harry.” She called his name, this time turning her head in his direction.

“Yeah?”

“I need to use the bathroom. Can you help me?”

He got up from the table and walked over to her again, giving her a confirming nod. She was able to stand up on her own, but her legs were feeling stiff as if they couldn’t move. She chose not to say anything and just started to walk. Harry kept a close distance, holding his hand out behind her in case he had to catch her. She made it past the couch, but that was it.

“Wait, Harry.” She froze, looking over her shoulder.

“What is it?” He asked with a drop of his brows. “Are you hurting?”

“I don’t feel.. as strong as I thought.” Ivy gave him a slightly worried look.

“I’ll help you.”

Harry gently pressed his hand to her lower back, then placed his other on her elbow to guide her. She was nervous at first, but she took a few steps. She was grateful there was no pain right now, but the fear of her legs giving out was just as scary. But she couldn’t give up, she needed to move around.

“Go on, you’re alright.” He said in a calm voice as she tried to stop.

“I don’t wanna fall.” She whined softly as they freed toward the hallway. They weren’t far from the bathroom, yet she was taking her time.

“You won’t. I’m right here.” He tried to assure her, but she was not trusting her legs.

Ivy felt a wave of anxiety flood her body. “Harry, don’t let me fall.”

Harry took a deep breath, his patience was fine, he was just disappointed that he couldn’t help her more. He slid his hand to her waist to give her more support.

“I won’t let you fall, love. You’re fine. I got you.” The words that came from his mouth made her heart drop.

What did he just call her? No, there was no need to overreact. He said it so casually, like it was a fixed word in his vocabulary. He must say it a lot or use it in a friendly way.. Ivy couldn’t wrap her head around it. She swallowed hard, trying to think of anything else. She failed at doing so.

After a couple slow minutes of her trying to gain strength, they finally made it to the bathroom. Harry let her go and opened the door for her.

“I’ll walk back in here.” He mumbled to her as she stepped over the threshold.

“Why?”

A smile pulled on his lips. “Give you some privacy.”

“Oh.. right.”

Once she handled her business and washed her hands, Ivy stood at the sink and stared at her reflection. Her hair was messy, most likely tangled up. She saw how tired her eyes appeared. She felt unclean. The routine of showering had been disrupted by the surgery. She hasn’t been able to submerge her sewn incision yet, so having a hot bubble bath was out of the picture. Maybe she can gather enough energy to shower before bed tonight.

When she opened the door and peeped her head out, she was somewhat disappointed by not seeing Harry. He wasn’t lying about stepping away to give her some personal time alone. She licked her lips and called out for him.

“Harry.. I’m done.”

He appeared in the hallway, walking straight towards her. She was relieved to know he was there. While it was not too hard of a task for her to walk on her own, the fear of tripping or losing her balance was frightening.

Harry assisted her back to the living room. She chose the same spot on the couch to sit down on. He asked her if she needed anything, but she didn’t. He was about to walk back to the kitchen when she said his name.

“Harry.” Her voice was as soft as ever.

He realized she had never said his name as much to him as she has today. He liked the way it rolled off her tongue, how sweet it sounded in her voice. It was hard to not think about that.

“Yeah?”

Ivy’s eyes fell from him. “M’sorry if I’ve been mean since you got here.”

He kept a gentle smile on despite her not looking. “I wouldn't say you’ve been mean.”

She huffed, pulling the blanket up to her collar bones. “You’re being really nice to me with helping and all that and I don’t wanna be mean.”

Harry had to keep in mind that her medicine was making her somewhat loopy. She wasn’t the bold, energetic girl he knew she could be. She wasn’t even the super shy, locked away girl he’d witnessed either. She was soft and quiet and delicate.. He didn’t want to say anything wrong or that would make her believe she’s right.

“You haven’t been mean, Ivy.”

There it was again, that little spark in heart that popped in whenever he said her name. She nodded softly, and surprisingly moved her gaze back to his.

“Can.. can you tell me something.. before you go back in there?”

Harry didn’t know what to expect. “I guess, what is it?”

Maybe it was the medicine that made her so open with him right now. She didn’t have to battle with her anxiety or face any worrying thoughts. She was free to just speak to him like nothing else mattered.

“The other night.. why did you.. get so mad at Cory?”

The question rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t want to hash it up again. He shook his head and tore his eyes away from her.

“Ivy, I don’t want to talk about it.”

She hesitated at first, unsure if he would get angry at her right now. She was in such a vulnerable state, surely he’d show her some grace. “I.. I just want to know.. were you mad at me?”

Harry didn’t want to get into it. “No, I wasn’t.”

“You.. you screamed at me.” She mumbled right back.

“And I apologized to you.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by either of them that the volume of his voice increased slightly. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she stared down at the coffee table. Maybe asking him that wasn’t a good idea. Things were going so well, why did she have to jeopardize that? Harry watched her for a solid minute, taking note of how she seemed to be sad about it. Her eyelids were heavy, her lips had rolled to a pout, and her hands were rubbing each other in her lap. She was trying to get out of the situation, but he was standing there staring at her.

“The way you told him to get off of you..” His voice almost frightened her, she didn’t think he’d speak back. “I just immediately thought about the night that guy was chasing you. I didn’t want you.. to be that scared again.”

Sincerity was rare when it came to him. He never let it be seen how he really felt. Nobody got any special treatment, he kept things to himself and didn't explain his actions if asked - but Ivy got that treatment. He’s found himself again telling her more than she should know. For just a split second, her eyes met his. She didn’t reply to him, didn’t even give him an expression. Her gaze fell to the pile of things next to the armchair.

“Is that.. the stuff people got for me?”

He was grateful she let the previous topic go. “Yeah, Emma told me to help you put it away but since I’m not allowed in your room.. I left it there.”

She hummed to herself, looking at the collection of gift bags. She knew that she received a few things from everyone and she was appreciative of that. There hadn’t even a chance for her to go through it yet, she had been so tired since she got home.

“Can you bring it to me? I wanna look at the stuff. Please.” She added the final word in a quick chirp.

Harry gathered the gift bags and brought them to the couch, sitting them next to her. He wasn’t sure what she was going to ask him to do next, if anything, so he chose to sit in the chair and watch her open the stuff. She started with the bag she recognized, the one from Emma. She got it at the hospital but didn’t go through it. She pulled out a stuffed teddy bear that was honey brown, attached to it was a pretty pink ribbon bow. She smiled sweetly as she read over the card Emma left for her. The second bag was labeled as being from Michelle. It was an assortment of snacks and candy that she was excited to dig into it. A card was also left, wishing her a quick recovery and a girls night soon. Alyssa put together a snack collection for her, too, with Zayn adding a short get well message to the card. She felt spoiled, but it was a relief to know they cared enough to send her things.

The last bag was a small one. The outside was covered in pink flowers, the bag itself being white. She reached inside and let out a shriek as she grabbed the small stuffed animal. It was a very pale shade of pink with big plastic, glittery blue eyes.

“Look at this one!” She was talking to herself, squeezing the pig with both hands. She thought it was the cutest looking thing she’d ever seen. It had an odd look to it that made it even more adorable.

She checked the bag, but there was no card or anything. There was nothing written on the outside of the bag either. “I wonder who got this. There’s no name on it. He’s adorable.”

Harry watched her as she rubbed her thumbs over the soft material of the plush, her eyes wide with joy and amazement. She had never seen something so cute before.

“Do you know who got this?” She glanced at him quickly.

“No, Niall brought it all in together.”

Ivy sighed, wishing she knew who the gift giver was. She wanted to thank them for blessing her with the pig. She decided to keep the teddy bear and the pig on the couch with her, politely asking Harry to put the candy and snack bags on the kitchen counter. He complied with her request and just smiled to himself as she mumbled about how much she liked the pig.

Later that night, Ivy was able to stand up on her own in the shower and take care of her basic need. Harry stood in the hallway just in case something happened to her. Once she was out, he went back to the kitchen so she could walk across the hall in the towel. She hated the feeling of drying off completely and getting dressed in the bathroom, the steam from the shower lurking in the air making her uncomfortable. So she carefully walked with her body wrapped up in a towel to her room.

Harry decided he’d work on dinner while she was doing her routine. She wanted something soft and easy on her stomach, so she requested macaroni and cheese. Harry found that somewhat amusing, that was all she wanted. But nevertheless, he agreed to making it for her.

There were no more deep conversations like the one they had earlier. She remained quiet and he kept to himself. She ate the food he made for her and watched the television until she was tired. Harry guided her down the hall and made sure she was in her bed before he went to get comfortable in his own makeshift bed. Ivy didn’t stay awake much longer, she was exhausted and ready to sleep.

When morning came, Ivy was way more confident in her walking. She realized that her legs felt much better and the pain from her sewn skin had gone down drastically. Everything was falling back in place, a sense of normality was slowly returning. She found Harry sitting at the kitchen table like he had spent most of the previous day doing. He closed his journal when he saw her come in.

“Sleep alright?” He asked, quickly noticing how swift her movements were . “You’re walking better, yeah?”

She nodded. “Slept good and yeah.. I feel so much better.”

“Well, that’s good. Niall called me earlier and said he’d let me know when they were heading back, should be around lunch.”

She licked her lips and let her eyes stroll over to the stove. “Okay. I’m kinda hungry.”

“What do you want?” He stood up, ready to do whatever she asked of him.

“I can try to do it.”

“You might as well use me while I’m here.” He chuckled very lightly. “Take advantage of my services.”

She thought about for a minute. He’s been washing the dishes he’s used for cooking. He’s cleaned up the kitchen, handled the garbage, done the little tasks she was so used to doing on her own. It was nice to have a break.

“You’re right.” She shrugged. “I just want some eggs.”

Their Sunday morning was much quieter than the Saturday had been. Like Niall estimated, it was a bit past lunch time when they arrived home. Emma practically ran inside to make sure Ivy was still alive and her and Harry hadn’t killed each other. She was relieved to see her on the couch, appearing much better off than when she left her. Emma demanded a full list of every moment from Harry. She had to ensure that he took well enough care of her. She was pleased to hear how everything went and how Harry made her walk around to gain her strength back.

Niall spoke to Ivy quietly on the couch, making sure that he got her side of the story. He was ready to pounce on Harry if he heard any negative comment that was made or any instance of attitude given. He was delighted to hear that Harry had behaved.

Not long after they arrived, Harry made his departure and Niall wasn’t far behind him. Emma made sure Ivy was comfortable before going to her room to unpack her bag. The crazy, unplanned weekend was finally over and everyone could get back to their normal lives. Before she forgot, though, she sent him a quick message that Sunday night.

Ivy: hey, just wanted to say thank you for staying with me. I really appreciate it.

Harry: you don’t have to thank me.

Ivy: but I’ll thank you anyway :)

She went to sleep shortly after that and when she woke up the next morning, she was surprised to see a message from him. He had sent it probably ten or so minutes after her last one, but by then she was passed out. Her heart skipped a beat as she read over the words. She was so stunned that she couldn’t come up with a response. How could something so simple suddenly mean the world to her?

Harry: you’re welcome. by the way.. I got you the pig. glad you like it.

[a/n: I’ve been waiting weeks for this update!! I hope you enjoy it.. the forced proximity is obviously very prominent in this part. things are shifting hehe see you soon!] click here to see the pig plushie

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