#anyway sorry I’ll be fine I’m going to wake Will up now so I’m not alone jdkdkskssksksks also eat something

[king-ludwig-ii]

T shirt that says I still have social issues and trauma from things that happened over a decade ago

[solelifauna]

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?” 

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.���

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

[pathologicalreid]

caretaker | s.r.

in which you take care of your fiercely independent boyfriend after he gets shot in the knee

margotober

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: canon compliant injury, gun violence, alludes to spencer's past addiction, alternative pain relief, spencer's anthrax poisoning word count: 1.03k a/n: oh spencer reid who at certain points had to raise himself and never learned to let himself be cared for. i love you. this was a request <3. i hope you enjoy

A crash very rudely wakes you up, sharing the same level of poise as a cartoon cat while your heart very nearly bursts out of your chest, you jolt up from the cushions. Trying to catch your breath, you scramble on the couch and peer over the back of it, looking to the ground to find your boyfriend with a desolate look on his face, “What are you doing?”

Your eyes wander to his knee, secured with a complicated black brace, which he was supposed to be staying off of for the next week so that it could properly heal. “Lying on the floor,” he answers, staring blankly at the ceiling as he does.

Raising your eyebrows, you start to untangle yourself from the crocheted blanket you fell asleep with, “Why?”

Spencer sighs from his spot on the floor, “Felt like it,” he mumbles, bringing his arms up to cover his face.

“Did you fall?” You ask, getting off of the couch and crouching down next to him, noticing the way one of his crutches was twisted in the tassels of your area rug. Quietly, you pick both of his crutches off of the floor, resting them against the arm of the couch before reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder. “Do you wanna get up?”

All you receive in response is a groan, so you sit fully on the floor, maneuvering your hand around his arms so that you can smooth his hair back. “I want to walk,” Spencer complains, putting his arms down to his sides.

You frown at him, your ministrations on his head faltering, “Well, I can help you walk back to bed.” He insisted he was fine when you left him to go lay down on the couch, but obviously he had decided he needed something else.

“I want to walk alone,” he corrects himself, finally glancing over at you.

The tears in his eyes are enough to break through your cheery demeanor, “Oh, Spence.” You pout at him sympathetically, reaching out your arms to help pull him to a sitting position. “I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand.

He simply held no familiarity with being taken care of. Spencer was an independent being first. Once a caretaker, always a caretaker, but now, the roles were reversed, he simply couldn’t get around without your help. “I just wanted to do something on my own,” he admits mournfully, “I can’t even get a book without…” his voice trails off, “Did I wake you up?”

You shake your head quickly, “No.” The lie easily slides off of your tongue, saving him from the guilt of waking you up. Honestly, it was time for you to make your way to bed anyway. “Ready?” You ask him, eyeing him cautiously as he leans to the side in order to put all of his weight on his good leg.

Taking both of his hands in yours, you pull him gently to a standing position, helping him hobble over to the couch so he can lean on the back of it for support. “Thank you,” he mumbles bashfully, ducking his head so that his hair covers his face.

“Do you want some tea before bed?” You ask, skimming your palm up and down his upper arm. You had scoped out a tea that was used in herbal medicine, ordering a bunch of it off of a sketchy website to help Spencer try and manage his pain.

He foregoes a response, shaking his head, “I can make it.”

You smile softly at him, “I’ll make it, Spence. I know you don’t like it, but I really need you to rest.” You squeeze his upper arm comfortingly, “You got shot a week ago, please let me take care of you.”

He looks up at you, “I don’t want you to have to take care of me.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce, “but you owe me.”

Spencer raises his eyebrows in confusion, “I owe you? What do I owe you for?”

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you tilt your head back slightly, “Letting me take care of you is the ‘My co-worker had to call my girlfriend on a seemingly random Tuesday afternoon to tell me I had been shot in the line of duty’ tax,” you inform him dutifully.

“Okay, yes, Garcia could have worded that phone call better,” he cedes, flicking some of his hair over his shoulder.

Looking at him in disbelief, you cock an eyebrow at him, “Yeah, it’s right on up there with the anthrax poisoning phone call. You’re already on thin ice with me,” you warn him, mostly meaning it in jest.

Each of these phone calls had sent you into such a tailspin that the BAU had to send someone to get you, and they weren’t experiences you were likely to forget. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, studying your expression with sad brown eyes.

“Don’t be sorry,” you instruct him, “Just let me take care of you! You take care of me all the time—it’s only fair.”

He chuckles lightly at your comment on fairness, the sound enough to make the butterflies in your stomach flutter, “Okay,” he says, “Okay.”

Ducking your head and having him loop his arm around your neck, you beam up at him, “See how much easier things are when you agree with me?”

He lets out a breathy laugh, using you and the wall as support as the two of you make your way back to the bedroom, getting him down on the mattress with practiced dexterity. “I’m certainly seeing the benefits,” he says, smiling up at you as you sweep his hair behind his ears.

Leaning down, you press a tender kiss on his forehead before stepping away, “I’ll go turn on the kettle. What book were you trying to get? I can grab it and maybe you can read me to sleep tonight.”

“You want me to read you to sleep in Russian?” He asks after rattling off the title to you, a smile on his face even though you can’t see it.

You laugh from your spot in the kitchen, “God, yes. I can’t think of anything better.”

[steveseddie]

helping hand

written for round one of @steddiebingo and the 12 days of Christmas mini-event | prompts: help & thigh fucking | rating: e | wc: 2,1k | no cw | tags: eddie lives, sharing a bed, hand jobs, thigh fucking, cuddling

read on ao3

According to Wayne, Eddie can sleep through anything.

It’s why he was late to school pretty much every day. That and the fact that he didn’t give a shit about it– but mostly because he always slept through his alarm clock.

But the thing is that to sleep through anything he needs to be asleep to begin with. And right now he can’t fall asleep because Steve hasn’t stopped tossing and turning in the past hour.

When Eddie comes close to falling asleep for what feels like the hundredth time only for Steve to twist around again, he can’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

Steve freezes as he’s fixing the blanket around him. “Um, did I wake you?” he asks in a tiny voice.

“I’d have to be asleep for you to wake me up, big boy.”

Running his hands down his face, Steve groans. “Shit, sorry, man.”

“‘S fine, Stevie.” He gives Steve a sidelong glance. Thanks to the moonlight filtering through the window he can see that he’s frowning. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just– Can’t sleep.”

“I got that much, dude,” Eddie says with a snort. He hesitates, biting his lip nervously. “Um, is it because of me?”

It might’ve been Steve who suggested they shared his bed tonight, but maybe he changed his mind or maybe he only did it because he was trying to be polite and he expected Eddie to turn down the offer–

Steve frantically shakes his head. “No! No–”

Eddie isn’t convinced. “Are you sure? Because I can go–”

“No,” Steve says, more firmly this time. “Eddie, I promise, I’m just restless, s’all.”

Eddie relaxes. “Okay, yeah, I get that. It happens to me a lot, especially after– you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs in sympathy. “So what do you do? When it happens?”

“Uh–” Eddie hesitates, a little worried that answering truthfully might make sharing a bed a bit awkward. Oh fuck it, he thinks. It was Steve who asked. “I usually just– you know, jerk off.”

Steve inhales sharply. He lets out a tiny, “Oh.”

And there’s the awkwardness.

Before Eddie can offer to take the couch again, Steve asks, “Does that, um– does that work for you?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Oh, like a charm. Makes me sleep like a baby.”

“I could use some of that,” Steve sighs longingly.

Eddie agrees– he’s noticed the black smudges under Steve’s eyes. “Well, I could, uh– go to the bathroom for a while if you want to–”

Steve sputters. “I’m not gonna ask you to go to the bathroom so I can jerk off!”

“Fine, then you can go to the bathroom. I’ll cover my ears, I promise,” Eddie says, trying to act casual but the truth is that if Steve actually took him up on the offer, Eddie’s brain would melt out of his ears just from knowing Steve is jerking off in the next room.

“Jesus, how loud do you think I am, man?” Steve asks with an incredulous laugh.

Eddie shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve given it much thought.” He has given it plenty of thought actually but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “Just trying to be helpful here, Stevie.”

“There’s something else you could do if you want to help,” Steve whispers after a short silence. He sounds strangely shy, nervous. He can’t possibly mean–

“Steve,” Eddie says, trying to keep his voice leveled. “Are you asking me to get you off?”

There’s a short moment where Steve doesn’t say anything and Eddie worries that he just made things even more awkward by assuming that’s what he meant, but before he can spiral he hears Steve’s soft reply. “Maybe.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters out loud though mostly to himself but Steve hears it anyway and lets out a panicked yelp.

“Christ, you know what? That was stupid.”

“Steve–”

But Steve ignores him, rolling on his side, away from Eddie, and as far as he can without falling off the bed. “Forget I said anything, you don’t have to–”

“I want to!” Eddie blurts out, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “Uh, if– if it will help you.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that,” Steve says, still facing away from Eddie.

“I’m offering,” he says. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens to him and it definitely won’t be happening twice but he wants it– God, does he want it– so he moves closer, putting his hand on Steve’s waist, hearing his sharp intake of breath. “Let me help you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s entire body shudders. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Please, Eddie.”

Oh, shit.

Just the thought of doing this is enough to make Eddie’s blood rush downward, making his dick half hard so he’s careful to keep his hips angled away from Steve’s back as he scoots closer to him, moving his hand from Steve’s waist to his lower stomach, feeling his skin erupt in goosebumps beneath his touch.

“I got you, Stevie,” he whispers, fingers moving down, playing with Steve’s happy trail. He’s already panting and Eddie still hasn’t even touched him.

Jesus fucking Christ, he needs to touch him.

He slides his hand lower until his knuckles bump against Steve’s cock over his boxers. “You’re already half hard, sweetheart? Is this what was actually keeping you up?”

Steve lets out a low moan. He didn’t ask Eddie for a running commentary, just a helping hand, but Eddie can’t stop himself. He’s a loud guy through and through, so unless Steve tells him to shut up, he’ll keep running his mouth. Steve seems to be into it anyway.

He lazily strokes Steve’s cock over his boxers to get him to full hardness. Fuck, he’s big, Eddie thinks. He can’t wait to feel Steve’s hot skin–

“Can I touch you?” Eddie whispers into his ear.

“Yes, yeah,” Steve agrees quickly.

So Eddie slips his hand inside Steve’s boxers, sighing happily when he wraps his fingers around his hard length.

The touch makes Steve throw his head back with a groan, almost smashing it against Eddie’s nose. Thankfully he doesn’t, even though not even a bloody nose would make Eddie give up the chance to get Steve off.

However he does prop himself up with the arm he isn’t using to touch Steve so his head rests against Eddie’s shoulder so as to not risk an injury– and because it allows him to peer over Steve’s shoulder and watch how his hand looks wrapped around his cock.

And God the sight gets Eddie to full hardness, making his mouth water.

He starts stroking him slowly, gathering the precum from the tip and smearing it down and around Steve’s cock but it’s not enough.

When he lets go entirely, Steve whines, hips thrusting forward, chasing after Eddie’s touch.

Eddie shushes him gently. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart. Here, spit,” he says, holding his hand close to Steve’s mouth. He does as he’s told without hesitation. Eddie can’t stop himself from kissing Steve’s nape. “Good boy.”

“Oh, G-god,” Steve moans brokenly. It trails off into a high-pitched whine when Eddie wraps his hand around him again, the slide of his hand smoother now from Steve’s spit.

He pumps him loosely. “Better?”

“Y–yeah,” Steve manages, panting now.

The elastic of his boxers makes Eddie’s movements a little clumsy but Steve fixes it by jerkily shoving them down. While doing that, his ass presses back against Eddie’s front and there’s no way for him to hide that he’s fully hard in his own boxers.

But instead of shoving Eddie away or calling him out on it, Steve groans and shuffles back until Eddie’s chest presses against his back and Eddie’s cock is nestled against Steve’s now naked ass.

“Fucking– fuck,” Eddie chokes out, momentarily stopping his hand so he can get his breathing over control.

“Eddie–” Steve whines, his hips twitching and fucking his cock into Eddie’s fist. It pushes his ass back against Eddie’s crotch, which does little to help Eddie focus.

“‘M here, baby,” Eddie whispers, his teeth clamped over his lip. Steve’s hips are still moving–

But he starts stroking him again, reminding himself that this is about Steve.

“Oh God, yes,” he moans loudly.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be loud,” Eddie mutters in awe.

Steve lets out a choked laugh. “I thought– I thought you didn’t give it much– oh fuck, much thought.”

“I fucking lied,” Eddie admits with a scoff.

“I– I lied too,” Steve says, his breath coming faster when Eddie tightens his grip. “You were the reason, fuck– the reason why I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking, oh God– thinking about how I wanted to be doing this instead.”

Something hot burns in Eddie’s stomach. “Well, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

“Can– can I ask for something else?” Steve says shyly despite him currently grinding his ass against Eddie in an obscene way.

“Anything.”

“Fuck my thighs?” He asks, twisting his neck so he can look at Eddie, his eyes half-lidded, his pupils blown wide.

Eddie is pretty sure his brain momentarily short circuits.

When he doesn’t reply right away, Steve blindly reaches behind him, his hand connecting with Eddie’s hip. He clumsily tugs on his boxers, trying to get them off.

It snaps Eddie out of it. “Yes, yeah, fucking– yeah,” he mutters, momentarily letting go of Steve so he can shove his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach.

He gives himself a few strokes– to take the edge off and to spread the precum along his length until his cock is wet and shiny.

“Come here,” Steve says and Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He shuffles closer, angling the head of his dick forward, lining it up so it slides between Steve’s thighs.

And when it does, they both moan loudly at the same time.

Eddie takes a few deep breaths then reaches for Steve’s cock. The inside of Steve’s thighs is so warm and soft and he knows he’s not gonna last long, but he’ll make sure to make Steve come.

He makes sure his grip is tighter this time, his movements faster. He times them with his own thrusts, his cock sliding wetly in and out Steve’s meaty thighs.

“You feel fucking perfect, Steve,” Eddie groans, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder blade. The praise makes Steve whimper, his cock pulsing in Eddie’s hand. “You gonna come, sweetheart?”

Breathing coming faster, Steve manages, “Yeah– yeah. So fuckin’ close.”

“Me too, baby,” he admits. It doesn’t surprise him, he’s currently experiencing the hottest moment of his entire existence.

The closer he gets, the more his movements turn clumsier, more desperate– desperate to come, to make Steve come.

It’s when Eddie gives Steve’s shoulder a playful little bite at the same time that he twists his hand on the upstroke that Steve’s back arches and he moans loud and shaky as his cock pulses hotly into his hand.

Steve’s noises as he comes and the way his thighs tighten around Eddie’s cock are enough to bring him over the edge after only a few more thrusts and he paints Steve’s legs with cum.

They lay like that for a few seconds, catching their breath. Eddie starts to drift off, feeling tired and floaty.

“So you think you can fall asleep now?” He asks, breaking the silence.

Steve lets out a soft little giggle. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Eddie grins triumphantly. “Happy to be of service, Your Majesty,” he says with a twist of his cum-covered hand.

Steve’s nose wrinkles as his eyes land on it, but there’s a trace of fond amusement in the look he throws at Eddie over his shoulder. He grabs a handful of tissues from his nightstand and uses them to clean Eddie’s hand and himself before they both shove their boxers back on and get back under the covers.

Eddie rolls to his side. “Before you fall asleep and because I know it’ll keep me up if I don’t ask– was that like, just a hookup or do you like, like me?” He grimaces, burying his face into a pillow. “God, I sound like a twelve year old.”

Steve laughs, but not unkindly. “I like you, Eddie,” he says, and when Eddie lifts his head to look at him, Steve leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Smiling, Eddie nods. That’s fine by him.

Steve turns around, facing away again and Eddie wraps his arm around him, burrowing his face into the back of his neck.

They’re both asleep in a matter of seconds.

[mcrdvcks]

Could I request a one shot of Old Man Logan? Something with fluff and angst like a huge argument between him and his other half and Laura works to get them to make up after days of not talking

things i wish you said

chapter summary: You and Logan get into a fight and Laura tries to get the two of you to see the errors in your ways.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: thank y'all for sending in requests! i've been working on the last chapter of i love you, in every time but i ran into a bit of writer's block so the requests really helped <3

anyways, i hope this was what you wanted anon!

warnings/tags: au of 'logan (2017)' aka logan doesn't die at the end, arguments, angst, laura being smarter than reader and logan, really this is just laura being a smartass, fluff

"I can’t believe you!” You set the dish towel angrily down on the counter, glaring at Logan. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever met.”

Logan leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression hard. “Yeah? Well, someone’s gotta be stubborn, considering you’re trying to fix a situation that ain’t broken.”

“It is broken, Logan!” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You just refuse to see it because that’s what you do! Shut everything out, pretend like nothing’s wrong until it all blows up in your face.”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “What’s wrong is you makin’ a mountain out of a molehill. I said I’ll handle it.”

“You handling it usually means disappearing for a week and coming back bloodied and brooding!” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “God forbid you actually let someone help you for once.”

“I don’t need your help!” he barked, his voice rising. “I’ve been doin’ just fine on my own for years.”

“And look where that’s gotten you!” The words came out sharper than you intended, but the frustration boiling in your chest wouldn’t let you stop. “You’re not on your own anymore, Logan. When are you gonna get that through your thick skull?”

Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped to a dangerous low. “You don’t think I know that? I didn’t ask for any of this, but here we are. I’m doin’ the best I can, and it ain’t enough for you, is it?”

“That’s not what I said!” You took a step toward him, shaking your head in disbelief. “But you don’t even try to meet me halfway. You just... shut down and push me out the second it gets hard.”

“Maybe I’m tryin’ to protect you,” he shot back, his words laced with frustration.

“From what? From you?” Your voice cracked, the argument chipping away at the walls you’d built to keep your own emotions in check. “I’m not scared of you, Logan. What scares me is losing you because you’re too damn stubborn to let anyone in.”

Logan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came. He stood there, breathing hard, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room, the screen door slamming behind him.

You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding. Part of you wanted to go after him, to yell more, to make him understand. But another part of you was too tired—too hurt.

The house was quiet now, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Laura walked in from the hallway. She didn’t say anything right away, just hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed in that way that made her look far older than her twelve years.

“You two are so loud,” she finally said, her tone flat but edged with something that sounded suspiciously like annoyance.

You groaned, dropping your hands and looking over at her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Laura replied, stepping further into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her sharp gaze studying your face. “You’re crying.”

You swiped at your cheek quickly, though you weren’t sure why. Laura didn’t miss much. “It’s nothing, kiddo.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” she said, her tone even. She leaned her elbows on the table, her small hands clasped together. “You and Logan fight all the time now.”

“That’s not true,” you replied automatically, though the words felt hollow as soon as you said them.

Laura just stared at you, unblinking. “It is.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes grown-ups argue. That’s just how it is.”

“Yeah, but you’re mad at him all the time. And he’s mad at himself. It’s annoying.” Her bluntness cut through you, and she tilted her head. “Are you going to leave?”

“What? No.” The question startled you, and you leaned forward. “No, Laura. I’m not going anywhere. I love Logan. I just... wish he’d stop shutting me out.”

Laura didn’t say anything for a while. She just stared at you, her gaze as sharp as ever, like she was picking apart everything you’d just said.

Finally, she shrugged. “Then tell him.”

You blinked. “I have told him.”

“No, you yelled at him.” Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and it made you feel about two inches tall. “That’s not the same.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “It’s complicated, kid.”

Laura tilted her head. “No, it’s not. You’re mad. He’s mad. You both stop talking. Then you stay mad.”

You stared at her, caught off guard by how simple she made it sound. “It’s not that easy.”

Laura didn’t respond to that, just gave you a look—one of those looks that made you realize this twelve-year-old could probably win a staring contest with the Grim Reaper. She stood up without another word and walked back toward the hallway, leaving you sitting there with a mix of frustration, guilt, and... something else you couldn’t quite name.

---

The next few days were... quiet. Too quiet. Logan didn’t come around much, and when he did, it was brief—mostly to grab a beer or say a gruff goodnight. You didn’t push him, not yet, but the silence between you was its own kind of argument.

You also knew that he wasn’t sleeping in bed with you. You could tell because you’d wake up early for work, only to find Logan sprawled out on the couch, his legs dangling off the armrest. You would’ve woken him up—told him to go to bed while you left—but you stopped yourself every time. The anger hadn’t completely faded, but it had started to feel hollow, replaced by something heavier.

This morning was no different. You paused in the living room doorway, coffee in hand, watching him. He was fast asleep, one arm thrown over his face, the other hanging off the edge of the couch. You sighed quietly to yourself.

“Just go to bed, idiot,” you muttered under your breath, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.

---

Laura stood in the doorway of the garage, watching Logan fiddle with the same part of the truck he’d been pretending to fix for the past twenty minutes. She didn’t say anything at first—just stood there, arms crossed, her quiet presence heavy enough that Logan eventually sighed.

“You gonna say somethin’ or just stand there starin’?” he muttered without looking up, his voice rough.

Laura shrugged. “You’re not fixing anything.”

Logan’s hands paused for half a second before he went back to the wrench, a little harder this time. “Truck needs work.”

“It doesn’t,” Laura said bluntly. “You’re hiding.”

Logan froze again, jaw tightening. “Ain’t hidin’.”

“You are,” she insisted. Laura took a step closer, eyeing him like he was some kind of experiment she was studying. “You and Y/N are mad. It’s annoying.”

Logan finally looked up at her, scowling. “What’s annoying is you stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong.”

Laura didn’t flinch. She just stared at him, unfazed as ever. “If you don’t talk to her, she’s going to leave.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the wrench tightened. “She’s not gonna leave.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Logan stared at her, expression unreadable, but he didn’t answer. He looked back at the truck instead, as if the bolts and metal could give him something to focus on. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

Laura stepped closer, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I know you. And I know her. She cries when you’re not looking.”

Logan stilled, his shoulders tensing, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to hear it—didn’t want to think about it.

Laura didn’t stop. “You think shutting her out makes her safer, but it doesn’t. It just makes her sad.”

“Laura,” Logan said sharply, his voice low.

She ignored the warning in his tone. “You don’t want her to leave, but you’re acting like you do.”

That hit something, and Logan finally set the wrench down, exhaling harshly. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” Laura’s voice was calm, but there was something pointed beneath it. “You’re scared. You don’t want to need her.”

Logan looked at her, his scowl deeper now, though it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah? Where’d you get all that from?”

Laura shrugged. “I watch you. I listen. You’re both loud.”

Logan shook his head and ran a hand over his face, grumbling under his breath. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

She just tilted her head. “You’re worse.”

Logan let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Great. So now I’m gettin’ life advice from a twelve-year-old.”

Laura shrugged again and turned to leave. “If you don’t talk to her, I will.”

That got his attention. “Hey—”

But she was already walking out of the garage, not bothering to look back. “You’re welcome,” she called flatly.

Logan swore under his breath, watching her disappear. He sat there for a moment, hands resting on his knees, staring at the half-fixed truck. He hated that kid sometimes—hated how she could cut right through him like that.

And worse, she was right.

---

You came back from work late, opting to eat out instead of at home to avoid any awkward interactions. By the time you walked through the door, the house was dark except for the faint glow of the kitchen light. You set your bag down quietly, not wanting to risk waking anyone up.

But as you turned toward the living room, you noticed Logan sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. He wasn’t looking at you—his gaze was fixed on the floor, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together.

You hesitated, debating whether to say anything or just go straight to bed. Before you could decide, his gravelly voice cut through the silence.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

You froze, then blinked. “What?”

He finally looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “Laura told me. Said she noticed. I didn’t.”

You frowned, your heart sinking a little. “Logan, I—”

“I should’ve noticed,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost too quiet. He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s on me.”

You crossed your arms, unsure what to say. “I didn’t stay out because of you.”

“Yeah, you did,” he replied bluntly, cutting you off again. “You’re avoiding me. I get it.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he was resigned to it—made something twist in your chest. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not avoiding you. I just needed... space.”

Logan scoffed, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Space. Right. Because I’m such a walk in the park to be around.”

“Logan—”

“I get it,” he repeated, louder this time, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to explain it. I know what I’m like. Hell, Laura reminds me every day.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “This isn’t about Laura. It’s not even about you being... difficult. It’s about you not letting me in.”

He stiffened at that, his jaw clenching. “I’m tryin’.”

“Are you?” Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re just waiting for me to give up.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and for a second, you thought he might argue. But then he sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost bitter. “I don’t know how to let someone in without... screwin’ it all up.”

You stared at him, the anger you’d been holding onto slipping away, replaced by something softer. “You don’t have to have all the answers, Logan. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just need you to try.”

“I am trying,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “It just... doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“It is,” you said firmly, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him. “But you can’t keep shutting me out every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

He looked up at you, his expression guarded but vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied your face like he was trying to decide whether to believe you.

Finally, he let out a long breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you have to let me stay.”

Logan nodded slowly, like he was finally starting to understand. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll... figure it out.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you said, offering a small, tentative smile.

He didn’t smile back, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours. “You eaten?”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic. “What?”

“You look tired,” he said gruffly. “Bet you skipped dinner.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I grabbed something on the way home.”

"Good," he muttered again, leaning back against the couch with a long exhale. His hand moved to the bottle of whiskey, but instead of picking it up, his fingers drummed against the glass absently.

You hesitated, then walked over to the couch, standing just in front of him. “Logan.”

He looked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly, waiting for you to say whatever was on your mind.

Instead, you sat down beside him, close enough that your knees touched. For a second, neither of you said anything. Then Logan let out another heavy sigh, reached over, and pulled you into his lap with a quiet grunt.

“Logan—”

“Just sit,” he said, his tone softer than usual, though still carrying that gruff edge. One of his hands rested lightly on your hip, the other settled on your thigh. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in him start to ease as he let himself rest against you.

Your hands moved up instinctively, one settling on his arm, the other gently threading through his hair. He didn’t say anything at first, just breathed deeply, the weight of the past few days pressing down on both of you.

“You should come to bed tonight,” you murmured after a while, your voice quiet but steady.

Logan didn’t move, but you felt the way his body tensed under you. “I’m fine out here.”

“You’re not,” you said simply, your fingers brushing through his hair again. “You look miserable on this couch.”

He huffed a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point,” you pressed. “I want you in bed. With me. Where you belong.”

Logan lifted his head then, his eyes meeting yours. His expression was guarded, but there was something softer there too, like he was considering your words. “You sure you want me there?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you said, your hand moving to cup his jaw. “I always want you there, Logan. Even when I’m mad at you. Especially when I’m mad at you.”

That earned a faint smirk from him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think I was much for sharing a bed with someone.”

“Well, you’re not great at it,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You steal the blankets, and you snore.”

“Don’t snore,” he muttered, his lips twitching slightly.

“You absolutely snore,” you shot back, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t care. I just want you there.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “Good.”

For a few minutes, you stayed like that, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable. Logan’s head rested against your chest, and you could feel the tension slowly draining out of him as your fingers moved lazily through his hair.

“Y’know,” he muttered after a while, his voice low, “Laura’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”

You chuckled softly. “She’s just looking out for you. For us.”

Logan grunted, his arm tightening around you slightly. “Kid’s too damn smart for her own good.”

“She gets that from you,” you said, smiling.

That earned another faint smirk, though he didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his eyes closing as he rested against you. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good,” you said softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair.

For the first time in days, the tension between you felt like it was beginning to mend.

[wonderjanga]

Revival

(I posted this on accident when I meant to put it in drafts, anyone who saw that, you didn’t)

Anyways , so Billy casually revives Mary and Freddy whenever they die in their marvel forms. (For this AU, let’s say they’re still super durable, but they’re less durable than Marvel) Like for example:

*Mary and Marvel are fighting a super strong monster. It swings one of its claws at the two, hitting the both of them. It gives Billy a scratch but Mary just dies.*

Marvel: *forgets about the monster immediately* “Oh my gods…” *looks down at her looking properly disturbed and uses tip of boot to move Mary onto her back to see if she’s really, really dead.* “That’s… a nasty one.” *Bends down and fixes her face and wounds up with magic.* He’s revived them before but seeing them die never ceases to scare him. What if he can’t save them the next time?

Mary: *alive but unconscious*

Marvel: *picks her up and zips off to the Rock of Eternity* “Okay, Mary… I’m just gonna…” *Puts her down on the floor and runs around the rock finding blankets upon blankets and a singular pillow. Puts them all on her and puts the pillow under her head.*

Mary: *wakes up slightly and tries to sit up* “Billy, what happened?”

Marvel: “You uh… got knocked out.” *Pushes her back down so she can lay back down* He hasn’t told either of them that nine times out of ten, whenever they get knocked out, they die. It causes a major argument when they find out. “Just go back to sleep, Mary. I’ll take care of the monster.” If anyone saw this, they would truly think he’s her dad.

Mary: “The monster’s still out there?” *already on the verge of going back to sleep*

Marvel: “Not for long.” *tucks her in extra tight and pats her head before flying back to Fawcett*

or

*JL are fighting some aliens. These aliens are actually a little harder than normal. Some of their weapons burned Billy such as the ray-guns. (Which looked awesome) After closer inspection, the ray-guns had some type of magic signature. (Is it bad he finds that even cooler?) Freddy’s also there. The ray-guns affect him more than Billy. He dies when the aliens use a particularly big gun when Billy’s too distracted to help him. He doesn’t even realize Freddy died (again) until all the fighting is over and he’s looking for him.*

Marvel: *Flying around, looking around for Freddy* “Junior! Junior, where’d you go?” *Sees Freddy just laying there and flies down, touching down on the ground* “Junio…” *trails off when he sees Freddy’s dead and walks over to the corpse*

Superman: *flies down and lands next to Marvel* “Cap, Hal’s asking if you want to go for drinks. Do I tell him you’re not going—” *covers mouth when he sees Freddy.*

Marvel: *kneels down in front of Freddy.* How long had he been like this? Could Billy even save him now? He’s so charred… *feels impending dread and nausea creeping up*

Superman: “I- Marvel- I’m so sorry…”

Marvel: *spiraling as he stares at Junior*

Batman: *appears from the shadows* “I know what it’s like to lose a child, Marvel.” *puts hand on Billy’s shoulder* “If you ever need to talk to someone…”

Marvel: *shrugs hand off and starts to try and heal Freddy* “I’m fine.” *keeps muttering that he’s fine and the whole situation is fine as he continues to heal Freddy.*

Batman and Superman: *staring at Marvel in pity*

Superman: “…Marvel?” *Walks up behind Billy* “Marvel. He’s not fine.”

Freddy: *healed, alive but unconscious*

Marvel: “Yes, he is.” *Picks Freddy up* “He’s perfectly fine. I uh- I gotta go.”

Superman: “Cap, wait!”

Marvel: *Zooms off the rock. Ended up doing the same thing he did with the blankets before with Mary to Freddy.*

The league are gobsmacked when they see Freddy talking to Billy as if they hadn’t heard from Supes and Bats that he died. Billy also found a few grey hairs when he detransformed.

[doromoni]

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : One more round of pure fluff before we go back to our regularly scheduled chaos

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 14 | Next >

Y/N. 3 mins

story replies

oscarpiastri finally some quiet time with you, my dear. ILY too so so much

Y/N. sneaking out was a good plan.

oscarpiastri Next time let’s have a vacation just the two of us pls

Y/N. My thoughts exactly, Oscy 🧡

nicolepiastri So that’s where you two went!

Y/N. I’m so sorry for ditching you with the boys Mama P 🥺

nicolepiastri No worries, Darling. You and Oscar deserve some peace and quiet after everything.

Y/N. Thank you Mama P 🫶

mclaren Enjoy the summer! So glad you and Osc are taking a break together 😃

Y/N. Yup. Thanks. You guys too

alexandrasaintmleux close friends

story replies

Y/N. BOo hoo pls tell your boyfriend to grow up. Thank you my sweet 😘

alexandrasaintmleux Charles said that he is mad at you, specifically.

alexandrasaintmleux You took his son away from him.

alexandrasaintmleux swear they are children! they are so weird

Y/N. yeah , dont even get me started Alex. Oh please tell Charles I said to go suck an egg. 🥳

charles_leclerc mon bebe, why must you out me like this?

alexandrasaintmleux as payback for waking me up in the middle of the night .Even Leo was sleeping mon amore 🤡

charles_leclerc They went to Australia without us :((

alexandrasaintmluex To be fair you did say that you and pierre had plans

charles_leclerc but that was canceled

alexandrasaintmluex Y/N and Oscar did not know that mon amore…

charles_leclerc ok… fine 🙄

charles_leclerc 10 mins

story replies

danielricciardo anytime dude! (i’m just here for Leo)

charles_leclerc of course you are🙄

oscarpiastri I told you danny ric would do!

charles_leclerc it would be nicer if my son chose to pick us up the airport 😀

oscar_piastri then ask Leo to drive ☺️

charles_leclerc 1 more sass from you and I’m revoking your adoption papers

oscar_piastri then I’ll ask Nando, Seb or even Kimi to adopt me 🙂‍↕️ It’s ur loss not mine anyways

charles_leclerc I’m hurt?? that hurts!

oscar_piastri ☺️☺️☺️

charles_leclerc Oh btw … Max is with us. He’s coming too

oscarpiastri WHAT

landonorris Are you staying with Oscar?

charles_leclerc Yes, we are. why?

landonorris ah. i see

landonorris I had fun golfing with you and Carlos the other day. Paddle soon with Carlos and Max?

charles_leclerc Oh yeah thanks for that… I’m not really sure if I could go. Alex and I will be spending the rest of the summer together. I could ask Max now if he’s available

landonorris Max is there too?

charles_leclerc He is yeah.

landonorris Oh

oscarpiastri

liked by Y/N. , charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, maxvertappen1, logansargeant, and others

oscarpiastri Australian sun, my pretty girlfriend, and various animals.

tagged Y/N., charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, logansargeant.

Y/N. I’m pretty? ����☺️

oscarpiastri the prettiest 🧡

Y/N. marriage when 😊

oscarpiastri u free later?

logansargeant why do i feel like I should be mad??

danielricciardo yeah, where do we fit in into this caption, huh @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri I dunno what you guys mean 🤷‍♂️

charles_leclerc 🤨🤨🤨

maxverstappen1 P would’ve loved it here

oscarpiastri you should’ve brought her and kelly, mate

Y/N. Yeah! why didnt you huh mr. 3xWDC

maxvertappen1 because someone said that it was an emergency and to meet him at the airport!!

charles_leclerc oops

danielricciardo at least you brought Max and not someone else

maxverstappen1 I am neutral in this 🥹

Y/N. of course you are Judas

maxverstappen1 stapppp

oscarpiastri you know she won’t till you renounce whom shall not be named

maxverstappen1 Oh he’s Voldemort now?

Y/N. 🫡 Youre the one who said it sir.

user1 where is Mark?

oscarpiastri He’s too old and got tired

markwebber Oi!

danielricciardo where is the lie tho?

user2 Not them teaming over Mark 🙂‍↕️

user3 LESTAPPEN is in Australia!!!

user4 I am going feral over them all being together!

user5 its just a sleep over for millionaires, nothing big 😀

You added Max, Charles , and Alexandra to Timtams and Ranch*

Notification: Max sent a message to Timtams and Ranch

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd @booksandflowrs @czennieszn @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @tellybearryyyy @wobblymug @alittlechaotics-blog @bingussthirdtoe @mirrorball-6 @demandealalune @heartsforleclerc @yoongi-holland @maneskin-slave @alenix @forensicheart @bloodyymaryyy @stereading @hahahjej @youre-on-your-ownkid : closed

Maintaglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v @lottalove4evelyn @gr3yhues : closed for now

[ci3n]

'one bed' trope with lucifer + mammon

note: sorry in advance not my best work i haven't written in so long :/ but hope u guys still enjoy! (not proofread)

lucifer 

he’s a gentleman. he’ll offer for you to take the bed and will try to look for another room, but there’s just no more options so you two stand there awkwardly staring at the bed. 

“it’s fine, i’ll take the couch” 

“that couch looks too hard; it’ll hurt your back, lucifer” 

“hurt my back? i’m not an old man, mc”

“why don't we just share the bed?”

after a while, he reluctantly agrees to share (he’s very happy, actually). 

lays out a bunch of rules that you don’t listen to.

he’s very nervous for the rest of the night, like the idea of you and him in one bed together just does something to him, like so many things can happen right now (but they won’t calm down old man). 

even though this isn’t how he imagined sharing a bed with you for the first time, he isn’t complaining. 

the next morning, he wakes up to the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen: you lying on his chest with your arms wrapped around him. 

too busy admiring you, he doesn’t realise you woke up. 

“why’re you staring at me like that? it’s creepy” 

“probably because you’re lying on top of me, get up” (he doesn’t want you to pls don’t get up). 

“oh, i’m sorry”

mammon 

he’s so happy, he doesn’t even think of offering you the bed. 

i mean, why would he? he wants you two to share, so when you offer to find another place, he's quick to say no

“i think i’ll go and ask if they have any other rooms availa-” 

“NO” 

“what?” 

“i-i mean, why would ya do that? this bed looks just fine to me” 

“so you want us to share?” 

“ye- i mean no, i don’t want that, but why bother them again? ya know like i mean, this bed’s big enough.” 

you give up and say yes, it’s just for one night anyway 

he’s so giddy the whole night

he can’t get over how close your body is to his. this is something he thought he’d only experience in his imagination. 

jumps a little every time your hand brushes against his 

“mammon, are you okay?” 

“y-yeah, why’re ya asking?” 

“you just seem a bit jumpy, that’s all” 

“i ain’t jumpy yer the one who’s jumpy jumping around the bed every two seconds” 

“what” 

“ya move too much” 

“oh, do you want me to take the couch the-”

“NO DON’T-”

[nfr-girly]

Hasan x Reader // Pet-sitting Kaya

a/n: reader is shorter than Hasan, uses she/her pronouns

Hasan parks into the driveway next to her car. It’s 11pm, he’s not even sure she’s awake.

*

*12 hours earlier*

“So you’re sure you’ll be okay with her?” Hasan asks

“I’ll be fine you just go out and have fun” you say

Hasans going out to film a Fear& video, however his friend bailed out of looking after kaya last minute, so he had to look for a replacement ASAP.

Luckily, your Saturday was wide open, and kaya loved you anyway. So when Hasan asked around, you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

On the other hand, as soon as you agreed Hasan Instantly regretted asking you. Hasan adored you, in the way that he shouldn’t. Him and you had always been close, QT introduced you when you dropped her off at Hasans one time. From that point you and him got on really well. Unfortunately from that, Hasan gained an interest in you.

He never thought for one second you had any mutual interest in him, so he never said anything. He had too nice of a friendship with you to lose it over some stupid feelings.

“Remember, Kaya likes to go on walks by the park, and her food is in the-“ Hasan started to ramble, worrying about Kaya. He had never left her with anyone for the whole day.

“Okay Hasan I’ve got it okay? You can trust me” you look up at him with trusting eyes

Hasan took a deep breath and nodded. He trusted you, always. He just worried about Kaya.

“Okay. I should get going now. Again thank you so much for this. I know it was last minute”

“It gives me something to do. Me and this one can have a girls day” you smile at Kaya as she approaches you and Hasan

Hasan smiles, feeling relief now. He gets all his stuff and starts to head out.

“I’ll be back probably around 10. Is that okay?” He asks

You nod

“Okay. I’ll see you later”

“See you later” you smile

As Hasan steps out into the porch and head towards his car, a voice in his head keeps on saying; “tell her” “why didn’t you say anything” “should’ve kissed her”

Hasan mentally punches himself for what he didn’t say.

*present time*

Hasan unlocks the door and slowly enters, in case either you or Kaya is asleep. He takes his shoes off and hangs up his jacket.

He walks into the living room, to find the sweetest view he might’ve ever seen.

You and Kaya. You’re sleeping on the couch, snuggled up with a blanket, glasses hanging off your face, book halfway slipping out your hand. Kaya snuggled in your arms.

Hasan feels time stop as he admires the scene. His two favourite girls cozied up together, both fast asleep.

He contemplated waking you up, but before he could decide you were already starting to stir.

As you woke up, Hasan starting putting away his stuff, so he could hide the fact he had been staring. How could he not? You looked so beautiful.

“Hasan?” Your sweet voice was heard and Hasan smiled to himself before he turned

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No it’s okay, I must’ve feel asleep while reading, Kaya probably felt tired too” you laugh as you look down to Kaya

“I’m sorry I’m back so late, we got held up a bit.”

“It’s okay. I should probably head home now anyway.” You get up and start grabbing your stuff.

“Hey wait, it’s super dark out, I mean you don’t wanna head home this late. Why don’t you stay over?” Hasan nervously asked, hoping you’d stay.

You stopped for a minute. “Y-yeah I mean as long as you’re okay with it”

“Yeah yeah of course. Here let me take your stuff and I’ll show you to the bedroom” Hasan starts to head upstairs before you speak up

“Wait I don’t have a change of clothes”

Hasan stops and turns to you. “You can borrow some of mine. They might be big but at least they’re comfortable” he laughs

You pause, feeling a sense of warmth, you agree

“Okay, thanks” you smile

*he shows you to his bedroom and hands you a pair of clothes, leaving you alone to change*

you take a look around the room, the walls plain except for a few decorations he’s collected, a few pictures of him and Kaya scattered about, two dumbbells by his bed.

you get changed and look in the mirror, Hasans shirt looking massive on you while his sweatpants just fitting you. he gave you his smallest ones

You put your stuff by his bed and head downstairs to the living room. You see Kaya now awake and sitting with Hasan on the couch watching TV.

You approach Hasan and say, “hey I’m done changing now, so am I sleeping on your bed or down here, cause I don’t mind which one”

But Hasan doesn’t reply, instead he stares at you, to him, right now you’re the most beautiful thing ever, seeing you in his clothes feels normal, like it should be a regular thing.

“Hasan?” You say, confused

Hasan snaps out of his state. “Oh sorry, um I’ll sleep down here with Kaya, you can sleep in my room.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad”

“Of course, don’t worry about it” he says, reassuring you

“Okay thanks”

An hour later you start heading to his bedroom, Hasan coming with you to grab his clothes to change into. ‘Ask her out, what are you doing? Ask her out.’

“Thanks for letting me stay over, I don’t really like driving in the dark, so thank you” you laugh

“Don’t worry about it, hey um, I was just wondering, are you free next Saturday?” He asks you

you stop, “yeah I should be, why?”

Hasan pushes down his nerves and asks. “Well I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out, maybe we could go see a movie together? I also know a really good sushi place nearby, if you wanted to go there after?”

Your heart skips a beat, ‘is he asking me out on a date?’ you ask yourself as you take in his words

Hasan notices your pause and begins to worry, should he have asked you that? Oh god, what if he messed everything up, will you still want to be friends with him-

“Okay” he hears you say

“What?” He replies

“I’d like that, next Saturday then?” You say

Hasan manages to hide his smile as he replies

“Yeah, does 1pm work for you?”

“I’ll check but i should be free! But no yeah id really enjoy that” you smile

“Great, well we can talk about what movie we’ll see in the morning, it’s late so I’ll let you get some sleep” Hasan smiles at you before heading out the door

“Good night Hasan” you say

“Good night” he smiles, as he closes the door and heads downstairs

You smile and feel warm as you tuck yourself into his bed. Feeling content as you head to sleep, already looking forward to Saturday.

Meanwhile, Hasan is downstairs settling on the couch, kaya on her doggy bed next to him, both getting ready to head to sleep

Hasan lightly smiles as he thinks of what to do to make Saturday enjoyable and can’t wait to spent time with you.

————————————————————————

a/n: please let me know if you guys have any requests!! Also let me know if you’d like me to write about their date x

[bloatedandalone04]

To The One I Love - 4

Series Masterlist

➪in which your parents come to see you, and you quickly realize how many moments you’ve forgotten in not only your life, but theirs as well.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You slept for longer this time, Tyler knew that because he fell asleep after you and woke up before you did. 

It was now day three, and your parents had finally been able to sort out a way to get here. They would be driving instead of flying, so it would take them a bit longer, but at least they were on their way. 

He plugged his phone in and was just about to close his eyes again, but a soft knock sounded on the door, followed by Dr. James poking his head in. “Bad time?”

Tyler glanced over at you before shaking his head. “No, she’s just sleepin’. We talked a lot yesterday, I think it may have worn her out,”

“That’s alright,” James nodded, “It’s good that she’s responsive and awake. It’d be a different story if she were still asleep and hadn’t woken up yet.”

Tyler didn’t even think about that. You hit your head pretty hard, what if you had never woken up? He didn’t even want to picture that reality, especially since he was still trying to get used to his current one. 

“Anyway,” the doctor continued once he realized that Tyler hadn’t said anything back. “I’ll have to wake her up so I can check her stitches and replace the bandage.”

Tyler nodded, reaching over to grab and squeeze your hand, taking it upon himself to wake you up. A quiet call of your name and another squeeze of your hand did the trick, and soon enough your eyes opened. 

Dr. James quickly rounded the side of your bed, a new, clean bandage in his gloved hand. “Hi, Y/n,” he greeted with a smile, and you smiled back before looking over at Tyler. “I’m just here to change your bandage and check on your stitches, is that alright?”

You nodded slowly, still waking up as you shifted higher against the pillow. “Will it hurt?”

Tyler felt a small smile form on his face at your question, and he moved the chair closer to your bed as he laced his fingers with yours. “It shouldn’t. I’ll remove it slowly in case the stitches are stuck to the bandage,”

You bit your lip and nodded again, more hesitant this time. “It’ll be fine,” Tyler assured you, and you glanced over at him again with a nervous look on your face. “You’ll be fine, baby.” 

James slowly loosened the bandage around your head and pulled it away, and the edge of the stitches were a bit stuck to it. Your hand squeezed Tyler’s at the faint tug, but then the used fabric was successfully removed and set aside. 

This was the first time Tyler has seen your head injury since the day you got it, and it already looked a lot better. Granted, he saw it a mere few minutes after it happened, and he couldn’t see much since you were bleeding profusely, so really, what did he know?

He hadn’t realized how big it was, with one end starting in the middle of your forehead and the other going past your temple and nearly halfway on the side of your head. Your skin was bright red and irritated, and there were a few spots of blood here and there, but the stitches were looking good. 

Tyler let you hold his hand with a death grip as Dr. James gently cleaned up the skin around your stitches, then he rubbed some clear stuff over them before reapplying a new bandage. “There we go,” he commented, stepping away from you as he discarded his gloves. “That’s better. It should be time for your medication soon, too, so I’ll send Nurse Karson in within the next few minutes.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

“Thanks,” Tyler added as James left the room, then he turned back to you with a grin. “You did so well, babe. Only broke two of my fingers.”

You blushed at his tease, looking down to see just how tightly you were holding his hand. “Sorry,” you mumbled, loosening your grip. “I was nervous.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured, “You can squeeze my hand whenever you want.”

You smiled at him, pressing your lips together. “I’m really glad I have you here with me, Ty…” you trailed off, and Tyler felt his heart swell at the nickname you haven’t given him in three days. Before this, you always called him Ty and rarely called him Tyler, so to hear it now was nearly enough to bring a few tears to his eyes. “I don’t know what I would do if I was here by myself. I don’t want to be alone.”

Tyler shook his head, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’ll never be alone, baby,” he promised, “Not as long as I’m alive, you won’t.”

Your expression softened as your fingers gripped his tighter. A faint pink blush coated your face as you gave his hand a soft tug, murmuring, “C’mere…”

He stood, letting your hand pull him closer so his thighs were pressed against the side of the bed. His heartbeat was loud in his ears as you reached for his other hand and pulled him so he was leaning over, and when he was close enough, you released both his hands in order to wrap your arms around his shoulders. 

Tyler felt himself begin to melt against you, but he still made sure he wasn’t putting too much of his weight on your body as he gently hugged you back. He buried his face against the side of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent that only belonged to you. It felt like it had been weeks since he last touched you, not a mere three days, so he wasn’t holding himself back too much. 

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” you whispered, gently pressing your face against his shoulder. “God, I’d be lost without you, Tyler. Literally.”

He smiled against your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’d be lost without you,” he murmured, and he meant it with every inch of him. “The fact that you’re willin’ to stay with me even though you don’t remember what we were…Your trust in me is everythin’. You’re everythin’.”

You pull away and Tyler had to force himself to let you go, sitting next to you on the bed instead of going back to that God awful chair. “Tyler…did you and I…did we have a bonfire at some point? I don’t know if it was a dream or real, but I remember a bonfire, and you and I were really drunk and all over each other,” you hesitantly ask, playing with your fingers as you look over at him. 

Tyler’s eyes widened a bit as he thought back to a few summers ago, when he and the gang had one of the biggest chases ever and you suggested he throw a get together the next night to celebrate. 

He spent a good portion of the next morning gathering logs and branches, and he invited over a bunch of people to your house. That was the first summer you spent living in that house, and it was definitely a great way to start off that chapter of your lives. 

You were right, you and Tyler did have too much to drink and were practically the embodiment of the word ‘PDA’ as nothing was off limits. Boone teased Tyler relentlessly the next time they saw each other since Tyler couldn’t keep his hands off you that night and ended up taking you to bed before the party even ended. 

Tyler felt himself sit up straighter, “You remember that night?” He asked for clarification, and you nodded slowly. 

“I think so…we were celebrating something I think,” you trailed off then you sat up straight, too. “Wait, so that happened? That wasn’t a dream?” 

Tyler shook his head, a hopeful look on his face. “No, baby, that wasn’t a dream,” he murmured, taking your hand in his. “That was real. It happened a few years ago.”

You squeezed his hand, your eyes never breaking away from his. “What does this mean?” 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, reaching over to softly grip your chin. “But it’s a good thing. It’s a really good thing.”

Your eyes were looking a bit brighter now, and you looked more lively. It was a glimpse of who you were before the latest storm, and Tyler knew he missed that version of you, but he wasn’t aware of just how much. But he loved you before, and he loved you even more now. 

“Ty,” you start, opening your mouth to continue but before you could, the door opened and Nurse Karson walked in with a grin. 

“Sorry for interrupting,” she apologizes, making her way over to the other side of your bed. “I have your medication. How are you feeling today?”

You watched as she set the cup of pills onto the table before your eyes met Tyler’s again. “Better,”

After that, your pain medication kicked in real quick and soon enough you were sleeping again. Tyler had retreated back to the chair and had his legs propped up on your bed as he scrolled through the channels on the TV, the volume muted so he didn’t wake you up. 

But the quiet didn’t last long as the door swung open and hit the wall behind it with a soft thud, and you jolted awake as your parents came stumbling into the room. “Oh, Y/n,” your mother gasped as she ran over to you, her hand reaching out to gently caress your face. 

“We came as soon as we could, honey,” your dad said as he stood behind your mom. “How are you feeling? How’s your head?”

You were clearly still a bit shaken up at the sudden wakeup, but you relaxed once you took your mom’s hand. “I’m okay…my head is okay today,” 

“Thank God,” she let out a deep sigh, looking back up at your dad. “We were a nervous wreck, sweetheart. We couldn’t find someone to watch Louis and your fathers boss was being a real prick about the whole thing and-”

“Who’s Louis?” You asked as you looked between your parents. “Do I have a brother I forgot about?”

Your dad’s eyes widened and a strangled scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “God, no,” he grunted. “Louis is the Aussie mix you got us as a going away gift.”

“I got you a dog?” You gasped, looking over at Tyler. “We got them a dog?”

“It was your idea,” he raised his hands and sat up in the chair. 

“Where’s our dog?” You asked with a pout and Tyler laughed. 

“We don’t have one,” he answered. “Yet.”

You give him a hopeful look before your mom brings your attention back to her. “I guess that means your memory isn’t back yet?”

“No,” you quietly reply, looking down at your hands. “But I remembered something from a few years ago earlier today. It’s a good thing.” You repeated Tyler’s words, and he glanced up and shared a look with your dad.

“How are you doing, Ty?” He asked as he placed his hands on your moms shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

Tyler forced out a smile, feeling his eyes burn at the sudden question being directed at him. He preferred it when the attention was solely on you, so he could suffer in silence. “I’m good,” he lied, a tight grin on his face. 

You looked over at him again and it was like you knew he was faking it, and somehow that comforted him. “Tyler’s been my rock,” you say, reaching over to take his hand in yours. “He’s been here the whole time.”

Your father locked his jaw as if he, too, was holding back his emotions. “I’m glad you have him,”

“We’re so grateful, Tyler,” your mom added, tears fully streaming down her face. “You were there for her when we couldn’t be.”

“Hey,” you sternly said, softly glaring at your parents. “Don’t say that. You couldn’t have known.”

Your mom shook her head, taking the tissue your dad held out to her with a grateful smile. Your parents reminded Tyler of you and him, and they were also high school sweethearts and still going strong. He knew that you and he could do it, too. “I know, but still. I feel terrible that we weren’t here when you needed us,”

“Mom, it’s okay,” you whisper, squeezing her hand. “Really.”

She nods, wiping at her eyes before leaning in and brushing your hair out of your face. “You just focus on getting better, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing a faint kiss to the bandage on your head. “We’re here now, okay?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” your dad agreed and you gave them both a tired smile. 

You whispered, “Thank you,” before turning to Tyler. “And you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he mumbles, “You know I’m here for you. Always.”

Your dad clears his throat, wrapping his arm around your mom’s shoulders. “Get some sleep, honey,” he said, “The doctor said you need your rest to recover.”

You nodded, leaning back on the bed. “Can you find out when I’m allowed to leave? I hate being stuck in this bed. The sheets are scratchy,” 

He laughed, “I’ll see what I can find out,” 

Your mom followed after him then stopped to look at Tyler. “How’s the coffee here? Is it any good?”

Tyler gave her a regretful smile and shook his head, giving her all the information she needed. 

“Damnit,” she muttered, giving you a sheepish smile before scurrying back over to you and kissing your cheek multiple times. 

“God, mom, really?” You whined, gently pushing her away. 

“Don’t ‘mom’ me,” she scoffed, wiping at her eyes again. “You don’t know the hell your father and I went through when we found out what happened.”

Your expression softened as you bit your lip. “Sorry…”

Your mom waved you off, placing a comforting hand on Tyler’s shoulder before making her way to your dad who was still hovering by the door. “Don’t be,” she shook her head. “Are you hungry? Maybe I can find you something nice in the cafeteria.”

Tyler looked down, knowing she most likely wouldn’t be able to find a damn thing that looked nice in that cafeteria, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that. “We’ll be back, honey. And we’ll try not to scare you this time,” your dad grinned before guiding your mom out of the room so they could start on the tasks you’d given them. 

You stared at the door for a few more seconds before letting out a breath of air. “Holy shit, Ty,” you gasped in disbelief. “My dad has a full on beard now.”

Tyler laughed, realizing that you were probably so used to seeing your dad with a shaved face since he only started growing his beard two years ago. Before that, his face was hairless, and Tyler could see how odd that would be for you. “Yeah, he’s been workin’ on that for a while now,”

“He’s gotten so scruffy,” you laugh quietly, and Tyler could see your eyes start to water. “And my mom’s gotten so skinny…and I don’t remember any of it. They’ve been living their lives the last ten years and I don’t remember it.”

Tyler’s face softened and he knew that you had hidden your true feelings from your parents. “Baby,” he trailed off, not knowing what he could say to make you feel better. There was nothing he could say to make you feel better. “I know things are hard right now, but you just need to focus on gettin’ better, like your mom said. Those memories are still there, somewhere inside that gorgeous head of yours, it’ll just take time.”

He hoped, anyway. But if you truly never got back all your memories, he would be able to accept that, because at least he still had you. 

You nodded and cuddled under the scratchy sheets of the hospital bed. “I’m going to try to sleep for a little longer, okay? My head’s a mess right now. Well, more than it was before,” 

Tyler hummed in understanding, reaching over to lace his fingers with yours. 

He stayed beside you while you slept, and around fifteen minutes passed before the door opened and Dr. James walked in. “I saw that her parents are here and wanted to check on her, make sure she isn’t overworking herself,”

“No, they were easy on her,” Tyler answered and James nodded. “Hey, um…before they got here, she remembered somethin’ that happened kinda recently. A bonfire party we threw a few years ago…”

The doctor raised his brows and stepped further into the room, being careful not to make any unnecessary noise. “Well, based on her recent memory tests we did and now this, it seems like it’s improving,”

Tyler didn’t want to get his hopes up, so he just shifted casually in the chair, keeping his voice low. “So she’s gettin’ her memory back? Slowly?”

“While there are signs of improvement, nothing is certain,” he explained and Tyler didn’t feel as deflated as he would’ve had he allowed his hopes to overtake the rational side of him. “Recovery isn’t always linear. There will be setbacks and periods when progress feels nonexistent. But, the fact that she remembers something from a more recent time in her life is a big step in progress.” 

“So it’s possible for her to remember our relationship? Most of it, anyway?”

“That might take a bit more time,” he answered quietly. “Memories of loved ones are deeply rooted in emotional connections. While her short-term memory is improving, moments from a few years ago or more will likely start to return. It’s an unpredictable process that can’t be rushed.”

Tyler wasn’t sure if he properly understood a single word of that, but he knew that you remembering the bonfire was a good sign, and that’s all he needed to hear. “Did her father happen to ask when she is allowed to leave?” 

James laughed quietly. “Oh, yeah. He mentioned how eager she is to get out of here, and I don’t blame her. She’ll have to stay here for another couple days,” he told Tyler. “Since we’ve concluded that her head was the only severe injury she received, and since we can’t do much about her memory loss, we can’t keep her here for much longer.”

Tyler held back a smile as he nodded, glancing over at you. “Thank you,” he whispered, his attention fully on you now since he knew he would be taking you home soon. “I’ll let her know when she wakes up.”

Dr. James nodded before leaving the room, and Tyler moved the chair closer to the bed. He couldn’t wait to go home. He hadn’t been there since your accident, and he missed the familiarity of the house he shared with you. He hoped that maybe being in a new (but technically old) environment would trigger something in your mind and it would lead to you remembering the moments you and he shared in the home. 

Ten minutes go by before your dad enters the room, a cardboard box in his hand and a timid look on his face. “She asleep?”

“Yeah,” Tyler answered and watched as your dad slowly closed the door before making his way to the other side of your bed and sitting down on the chair near the window. A smile formed on his face at the logo on the box, and he lifted a brow, “You couldn’t find anythin’ in the cafeteria?”

Your dad shook his head as he placed the takeout box on the bedside table. “No, nothing good enough for her. I just grabbed something nice from the place down the road. Doctor said it was okay,”

Tyler hummed, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear while you slept, “She can go home soon, did he tell you that, too?”

“Yeah, I meant to tell her before I left, but thought you might’ve asked about it, too,” he grunted, his eyes softening as he watched Tyler sit back in the chair. “You’re part of the family, Ty, you know that. You’ve always been. I need you to know how grateful her mom and I are that you were here for her as soon as it happened. You were the one who found her and brought her in, right?” 

“Yeah,” Tyler mumbled, not wanting to relive the moment he saw you with that open gash on your head. “It was me and Lilly. She kept me sane while we waited.”

Your dad gave him a tight smile. “Tell her I said thank you. And thank you, Tyler. Knowing she wasn’t alone for a single second while we weren’t here…it means the world,” 

Tyler’s eyes stung a bit as he shook his head. “No need to thank me. You know how in love I am with her. I can’t live without her,”

“You and me both,” your dad laughed, his own eyes a bit watery. “Anyway, I do have to thank you. I want you to know that we appreciate everything you’ve done for her.”

“‘Course I do,” Tyler mumbled, sniffling and quietly clearing his throat as he felt himself get a bit annoyed at the fact that he didn’t have control over his emotions right now. “And you know I’ll be with her everyday once she’s back at home. We’ll take it slow.”

Your dad gave him a firm nod as your mom walked into the room, a frustrated look on her face. “How’s she doing?” she asked just as your eyes slowly opened. “Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered, shifting so you were sitting up against the bed. “Why do you look so pissed off? And why does dad look like he’s crying? Why are you crying?” You directed that last question to Tyler, and he quickly looked away and tried to subtly wipe at his eyes. 

“I’ve been trying to get some time off work so we can stay here with you, but now my boss is being  a prick,” your mother mumbled, “You’d think after seven years of not complaining, working overtime and going above and beyond, I’d get a little sympathy. Son of a-”

“Okay, mom,” you quickly cut her off, a laugh escaping you after. “It’s okay. You guys don’t need to risk your jobs for me. There’s not much you can do, right? My head will heal, and no one can control my memories. Please, stay as long as you can, but don’t get fired for me. Please.”

Your dad opened his mouth to protest, but sighed instead. “We’ll stay as long as we can, honey. But you know I don’t give a rat’s ass about my job, right? You’re my daughter, you come first,”

“I know, and I love you both more than words can explain, but I can’t be the reason you lose your jobs,” you murmur. “You both know there’s only so much you can do, the rest is up to me.”

Your mother nodded, her angry expression softening as she looked down at her phone. “Oh, here he is again,” she muttered. “Hang on, sweetheart. Eat some of the food we got for you, okay?” She gestured towards the takeout box before stepping out into the hall, and you looked over at the table. 

“You guys got me actual food?” You asked in disbelief as you reached for it. 

“Yeah, I promise it’s better than the shit they serve here,” your dad grunted before standing up. “I’ll go get you some water.”

Then it was just you and Tyler in the room again, and you looked over at him with a sad smile on your face. “I feel terrible for making them come all the way here,”

“Don’t worry about that, babe,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I don’t think they’d be anywhere else right now. They love you so much. And so do I. Besides, I don’t mind sharin’ you for a bit.”

A blush takes over your face as you press your lips together. You meet his eyes and smile, and he loves you so much. Your eyes, your smile, your personality, all of it. 

“That smile,” he whispered, leaning over towards you. “I’ve missed it.”

You blush again and forget about the takeout box as you pull on his hand. “Come here…” you mumble and he stands up. “I just want to be close to you for a bit.”

Tyler sat down next to your thighs, “Is this better?”

“It’s perfect,” you grin up at him. “Are we one of those super touchy couples?”

A smirk formed on his face as Tyler settled next to you. “You mean, are we a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah. We’re definitely one of those couples.”

You smile and look down at the bed. After a few seconds, you let out a sigh. “I wanna go home,” you say quietly, looking back up at him with teary eyes. “I don’t even remember it, but I want to go there. I wanna go there with you.”

Tyler reached over and wiped your tears away, his brows furrowing in barely-concealed anguish. “You will, baby. Soon,” he promised. “Dr. James said you’ll only be in here a couple more days, then I’ll take you home and look after you myself.”

“Really? I can go home soon?” You asked, a hopeful look in your eyes as you gripped his hand tightly. 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Real soon. For now, eat some dinner and let me do all the worryin’.”

You nod and smile at him, wiping away your tears before reaching for the box again, and Tyler held your hand the entire time you ate.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Car Accidents

Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader

Word count: 600 ish?

Warnings: car accidents, injuries, dad!simon, mom!reader, ambulances

Summary: When your eldest daughter's life is threatened, what will Simon do?

Simon liked James. He treated Emma well. He was polite. He came from a good single mother and he was kind. 

The boy was like him. 

A teenage boy stood at Simon’s door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hand. Emma had run down to answer the door the moment the doorbell rang. Simon had himself leaning against the stairs to make himself seem bigger. Even though he’s huge. 

“James!” Emma throws her arms around him. Simon tenses. You head over to the door, greeting the young boy.

That's when Simon realises the flowers in his hands for you, not Emma. He softens. James introduces himself, shaking his hand. Simon smiles, “Nice t’ meet ya. Keep ‘er safe. Be home by 10.”

***

Simon woke to his phone, not on silent, playing his basic ringtone. He groans, praying it didn’t wake you. When he feels your hand shove him, he knows it did. He reaches over, seeing James’ name on his screen. He picks it up, “What do ya want at this time of night?”

“Mr. Riley?”

“Kid, I’ve told ya. ‘S Simon.”

“Umm…I…Emma and I were at the movies and we were on our way to get ice cream, but this drunk driver hit us and totalled my car and Emma’s not waking up and I’m stuck in the car and-”

“Kid, kid, slow down. Where are ya?”

“50th ave…”

“Did ya call 911?”

“Yes��before I called you.”

“Okay, stay there. Try no’ to move. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay…please hurry…”

Simon hangs up, getting out of bed. Your hand pulls him back into bed. “What happened?”

“Dove and James got into an accident. I’m gone go take care of them,” he presses a kiss to your cheek before heading into the closet. 

“Wait, what? I’m coming with you!”

“No, lovie, you stay here, ‘kay?”

“I”m coming. That’s my daughter too.”

“Lovie…”

“Simon.”

“Fine, get ya clothes on.”

***

Simon pulls over, recognizing one of the cars in the wreck. James’. 

The boy sits leaning against it, his head in his hands. You run over, taking him into your arms. “Are you okay? Where’s Em? Is she okay?”

“She woke up a few minutes ago. The ambulance is checking on her. I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Riley.”

“Kid, ya got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Simon says, still looking around to spot Emma.

“I shouldn’t have taken her out so late…”

“KId, listen to me, it’s not ya fault.”

“But-”

“It’s not. Now, what ambulance did they take Dove to?”

James points to the one where she is. Simon walks towards the truck while you take James’ hand. “Did you call your mom?”

“No, she’d kill me if she had to leave work for something this dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. You’re hurt.” 

“She won’t come anyways.” 

“He can come home with us. Spend the night with Dove,” Simon interrupts, hearing the conversation you two were having. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smile at Simon. He heads over to Emma, where she holds an icepack to her head. Her eyes spot her father and she lights up, falling towards him and into his arms. 

James stands behind Simon, a guilty look on his face. “Em?”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare,” Emma sighs. “This wasn’t your fault. I’m fine. I promise.” 

Simon caresses her head, holding her tightly against him. “‘ts nobodys faul’. We’re gone go home. Both o’ ya gonna be fine.”

James looks down at his feet. “Thank you, Mr. Ri-Simon…”

Simon smiles internally. 

He won’t ever admit it but he has 3 sons now.

[estrellami-1]

Growing Young

The BIGGEST of happy birthdays to my spouse @gloomysoup !!! You are an absolute DELIGHT to know and I’m so sorry this is late 😭 I’m in love with you and we are going to run away and be very happy together. ❤️

Eddie wants it put on the record that he didn’t run this time. Well, he did, but it was only to lead the bats away from Dustin, and he cycled more than ran, anyways.

Not that the semantics matter when Dustin’s kneeling beside him and sounds are getting echoey.

Dustin yells for Steve, and Eddie wants to tell him it’s no use, Steve can’t hear, he’s too far away, except here he comes like an action hero, sliding in like it’s third fucking base. Damn Wayne and his sports shows, Eddie’s not supposed to know any of that.

“Hey,” Steve says, clear as a bell in Eddie’s addled brain. “Thought I told you not to be a hero.” He looks off, tells someone to get Dustin out, now, before returning his attention back to Eddie. “You’re gonna make it, y’hear me?”

“Dunno,” Eddie says, gasps for breath. Coughs up blood, if the new wet feeling in his mouth is any indication. “‘M not- not cold, anymore, y’know that’s worse, ‘s okay ‘f I don’t-”

“Shut up,” Steve hisses. “Actually, no, keep talking, stay awake. This is gonna hurt like a bitch but I’ve gotta get you outta here. If you’re gonna throw up, please don’t throw up on me.”

Eddie’s brain is lagging full seconds behind, so by the time Steve’s words process, he’s already being lifted.

He doesn’t throw up, but it’s a close thing. “You’re gonna be okay,” Steve tells him again.

He wakes up from the weirdest dream of his fucking life to his alarm and realizes three things in quick succession.

One: that’s not his alarm. It’s a heart monitor.

Two: he’s in a hospital.

Three: it was not, in fact, a dream.

As he finishes categorizing these things, Steve walks in, doing a double-take when he realizes Eddie’s awake. “Oh, holy shit,” he whispers, freezing for a second before darting back out.

He’s back a minute later with Wayne in tow.

Eddie would like it stricken from the record that he cried like a baby upon seeing Wayne. The record can keep the fact that Wayne cried upon seeing him, though.

“Uncle Wayne,” he whispers. He can’t move his arms enough to wipe his face, so he’s just laying there with tears running down his cheeks, undoubtedly making a terrible face. But Wayne’s an ugly crier, too, so they’re just sitting there, crying, making ugly faces at each other.

They eventually calm down and realize at the same time that Steve’s standing awkwardly by the door. “Sorry,” he says, like any of this is somehow his fault. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Wayne pulls himself together, gestures at a seat across from him. “You ain’t interruptin’, son. You saved my boy’s life. Far as I’m concerned, you got any right you want t’be here right now.”

Steve ducks his head. “I didn’t really- I mean, he was just… passed out, the doctors did the saving.”

“Sure,” Eddie says quietly, “but you got me outta there.” He glances over at the seat, a smile flickering on his face. “C’mon.”

“If you’re sure.” Steve matches his volume, takes the chair. Moves a book onto his lap.

Eddie notices, glances at it. “What’s that?”

Steve colors. “Oh, uh…” he holds it up for Eddie to see. The Lord of the Rings. “Dustin and I have been taking turns reading, just in case you could hear while you were under.”

Eddie pouts. “No, but I wish I could’ve.”

Wayne bursts out laughing. “Well damn, Ed, he ain’t killed your puppy. Fact, I’d bed he’d read t’you right now iffen y’asked him.” He stands, grabs Eddie’s hand and squeezes. It’s the one part of him that doesn’t hurt, but it still makes tears threaten to fall. “I’ve gotta get to work. Y’gonna be alright, son?”

Eddie smiles, does his best to squeeze Wayne’s fingers back. “I’ll be fine, Pops.”

Wayne leaves, and Steve opens the book, pausing halfway through trying to find his page. “D’you want me to start at the beginning?”

Eddie smiles at him. “‘S alright. I’ve read it so many times, you can start from wherever. I won’t be lost.”

Steve nods, flips through a few more pages. Fingers a corner, works his lip between his teeth. “I, uh… Dustin does voices. I’m… not good at that. And I’m probably gonna say half the names wrong.”

“‘S alright,” Eddie promises him. “‘Sides, it’s a made-up book with a made-up language. Maybe you’re saying it right and everyone else is saying it wrong.”

Steve snorts. “I doubt the author is saying it wrong,” he retorts, but settles back in his chair and begins to read.

A couple pages later, Steve stumbles over a few words in a row and shuts the book, grimacing as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, man,” he murmurs. “I’d read more if I could, but I need to be able to drive home.”

Eddie frowns. “Reading’s hard for you?”

Steve rolls his eyes. It’s more of a self-deprecating thing than anything else. “I’ve had… four? Five? Concussions. I wasn’t the best reader before that. It’s definitely gotten worse. Too much and it’ll trigger a migraine.”

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Is there- something you could take? A prescription? Or- or some kind of help?”

Steve colors. “There’s something,” he admits. “I just… don’t like wearing them.”

Eddie’s frown turns curious. “Wearing them?”

Steve nods. Won’t look at Eddie. “Glasses. I just… don’t like the way they look on me.”

“Have you-” he’s interrupted by a cough, and Steve rushes to hand him water. “Thanks,” he rasps out after a couple sips, then clears his throat. “Can you get different frames?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I did. These are the ones I hated the least.”

“Could I see them?” Eddie requests. “If you- if you’re here tomorrow. Would you bring them?”

Steve looks at him for a long second. “Sure,” he finally says. “I’ll be here tomorrow. And I’ll bring them.”

Eddie smiles at him. Steve smiles back, and leaves.

He arrives the next day while Dustin’s there. He leans in the doorway, crossing his arms and smiling at the scene. “Hey, dipshit,” he calls.

“Hey, Steve,” Dustin says back. “Anyways, so Mike was really stuck, right? So he decided-”

“Hey, dipshit,” Steve says again, jerking his head back. “Your ma’s out front.”

“Oh!” Dustin jumps up, gathering his things. “Okay, Eddie, don’t let me forget!” He calls over his shoulder, pointing at Eddie, almost running into the door before Steve nudges him out of the way.

He’s chuckling when he sinks into the chair Dustin had just vacated. “That kid.”

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he.”

“He really is.” He shifts uncomfortably for a second, pulls the book onto his lap, and sighs. “Just… I know I look stupid, okay? Just please don’t laugh.”

“Never,” Eddie swears immediately.

Steve pulls the glasses out of his pocket and puts them on, blinking at Eddie through the lenses as his eyes adjust. “Well?”

“They look good,” Eddie tells him immediately.

“Don’t-” Steve takes a breath, looks away. “We… we’ve been flirting. Right?”

Eddie’s heart rabbits in his chest. “I can stop.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, just… just tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Eddie murmurs. “Sweetheart, the truth is if you’d been my teacher, wearing those glasses, I would’ve graduated the first time with fucking honors.”

Steve’s cheeks are pink. “You mean it?”

“Every word,” Eddie swears. “Why don’t you think so? Did someone say something? Was it one of the kids? Because I will kick them out of Hellfire until the end of the campaign-”

“No- Eddie,” Steve laughs. “No, it wasn’t the kids. It wasn’t anyone. I just… don’t think I look good.”

“Well you do,” Eddie returns, mildly affronted. “Don’t look good,” he grumbles, halfway under his breath. “Honestly.” It gets a laugh out of Steve, which is what he was going for. “Can I ask you for something that’s probably way out of line?”

Steve blinks. “You… can ask me, sure. Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

“Guess so,” Eddie chuckles. It turns into a cough, which makes Steve get up, but Eddie waves him down. “Can I ask you to wear your glasses whenever you need to? And tell me if anyone says something, because again, I will kick the kids out of Hellfire until the end of the campaign. Just say the word, and they’re out.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m doing it because I want to. Because you’re worth it.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly.

“Good,” Eddie agrees nonsensically.

With that, Steve opens the book and begins to read. He gets through quite a few more pages than the day before, but does eventually stop, rubbing his brows. “Sorry,” he says, “Guess I still can’t read much even with the glasses on.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie murmurs. “Do you like reading? Or are you reading for my sake?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “Mostly for your sake,” he admits. “I don’t like reading as much as you do, or as much as Dustin does. But I want to know what you like. I want to understand what you like. And I feel like reading is the best way to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie replies, “but you know you don’t have to, right? I’d like you even if you never picked up another book again.”

Steve grins, a small, shy thing. “You like me?” He teases.

“I do,” Eddie murmurs. “I thought – I thought we-”

“No,” Steve interrupts, “we are. We do. Or I do, I don’t know–”

“I do, too,” Eddie promises. “Just… Maybe when I’m out of the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “of course. Do you have any news on when you get out?”

“Not yet, but hopefully I’ll know soon. I just don’t know what I’m going to do when I get out… I can’t even lift my arms to feed myself. And if I get out soon, before I’ve healed enough…”

“I get it,” Steve swears. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees softly. “Okay.”

“I don’t think I can read anymore today,” Steve says, “but I can stay for a bit if you want company.”

“Please,” Eddie agrees, far too quickly, except it makes Steve blush and smile, and Eddie would make himself the fool a hundred times over to make Steve smile.

They decide to watch TV. At some point their hands end up intertwined, and Eddie wants to stay awake, he really does, but he’s still pretty broken, and he finds himself waking up when Steve pulls away. “Sorry,” Steve whispers, “I didn’t wanna wake you.”

Eddie wakes himself up more, makes some kind of groaning noise that he’s pretty sure he’s heard Wayne make before. “‘S okay,” he mumbles, twitching his fingers to pull Steve closer. “Wan’ed’a be ‘wake.”

“It’s okay,” Steve swears. “You need the rest.”

Eddie hums, lets his eyes slip shut. Lets Steve pull his fingers from Eddie’s limp grasp. “Wan’ you t’wear the glasses,” he murmurs. He hears Steve pause as he gathers his things.

“I will,” Steve whispers. “Promise. I’ve got them on right now.”

“Good,” Eddie mumbles, and falls asleep before Steve’s even out of the room.

The doctor comes in a few days later to talk to Eddie while Steve’s there, once again reading to him. “My apologies,” the doctor says. “I’ve got some information for Mr. Munson, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out for a moment.”

“He can stay,” Eddie says before Steve can move. Steve blinks at him, and Eddie nods, inclining his chin down to the chair Steve’s practically levitating in. Steve shifts his weight, sits back down.

“Very well,” the doctor says. “I’ve got good news for you, Mr. Munson, as long as you’ve got someone to look after you, you’ll be free to go as soon as your guardian arrives.” He shuffles a few papers around. “We’ve got some painkillers for you, as well as a round of antibiotics.” He offers the papers to Eddie. Steve takes them, puts them on the chair beside him. “Your wraps will need to be changed once a day and stay dry for another two weeks, so sponge baths only. After that, your wraps can come off while you shower, then be put back on as soon as your skin is dry. If you have any questions once you’ve been released, there’s a number on the paper you can call at any time. If you pop a stitch, come back in. If you have any adverse reactions to the medication, come back in. If you pass out or throw up repeatedly, come back in. If your wounds look inflamed or infected, come back in. Understand?”

Eddie nods, biting his lip. “My guardian- my uncle. He works. I-”

“He’ll have someone to look after him,” Steve interrupts, looking up at the doctor.

The doctor looks between them, then nods. “Very well then. A nurse will come in and make sure you’re okay to be released. As soon as your uncle is here, you’re free to go.” He smiles. “As much as you’ve been a model patient, I hope to never see you again.”

Eddie snorts. “You too, Doc.” He looks over at Steve as the doctor leaves, raises a brow. “I got someone to look after me?”

Steve colors, looks down. “The, uh. The trailer was…”

Eddie winces. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” A sigh. “And the government’s dragging their feet about getting you guys another place. I offered up my place to Wayne. He’s been staying there since… well, since we got back topside. There’s more than enough room for the three of us.”

Eddie grins. “And this has nothing to do with you liking me, right?”

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, “I wouldn’t say nothing.”

They spend a long minute looking at each other before Steve looks back down at the open book in his lap.

Wayne arrives not too much later, just after the nurse finishes her duties. He grins at his nephew, finally freed from all the wires and tubes. “Y’ready to go?”

“Please,” Eddie agrees, looking at Steve. “I know my legs are generally fine, but just in case-”

Steve moves around the bed to stand next to him. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and Eddie believes him.

They get Eddie out of the hospital, into Wayne’s truck, and back to Steve’s house. “Welcome home,” Wayne deadpans, but Eddie can hear the slightest note of pride in Wayne’s gruff voice. He likes living here.

Eddie thinks he will, too.

“Your bedroom’s upstairs,” Steve murmurs. “The only bedroom down here is my parents’.”

“I’ll take the upstairs bedroom,” Eddie agrees, looking up at the aforementioned stairs. “Might need some help, though.”

“I can help,” Steve agrees. “Let’s see how much you can do by yourself first, though.”

The bannister is just about elbow height, so Eddie’s able to grab it and use it for support. He gets a third of the way up before he’s gritting his teeth, then halfway up before he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“You did great,” Steve tells him, then picks him up bridal-style.

Eddie squawks, causing Wayne to laugh at him. He raises his hand just enough to flip Wayne off, then focuses on not making a fool of himself while Steve carries him upstairs.

“First room’s mine,” Steve tells him, nodding towards his door as he carefully sets Eddie down. “Wayne’s is two doors down, and yours will be here, between us.” He points towards a room, and Eddie walks towards it.

Walking on flat ground is a lot easier than walking up stairs, but he’s still pretty injured, so he’s glad for the chance to sit down on his bed when he gets into his room.

“Now,” Steve says, “way I see it, you’ve got three options.”

“Oh? And what would those be?”

“Sleep, eat, or bathe.” He gives Eddie a tiny grin. “I know you’ll need help with the last one. If you’d rather your uncle do it, I understand, but I’m willing.”

Eddie glances over at the en-suite, bites his lip, and shakes his head. “I think… if you’re willing. I think I’d prefer you.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t completely serious.” He holds his hands out, offering Eddie help getting up. He takes it and leverages himself up, and together they walk into the bathroom.

“Sponge bath,” Steve murmurs, recalling the doctor’s words. “There should be a washcloth in here somewhere.” He gestures for Eddie to sit on the toilet for the time being, rooting around in the cabinets until he comes up with a wash cloth, shouting a triumphant, “Aha!” And waving it around like a flag.

“Man,” Eddie says, “I can’t believe anyone ever thought you were cool.”

“Fuck you, I am cool.”

“You’re a complete nerd, Stevie.”

Steve flips him off, tests the water temperature, nods. “Need help undressing?”

Eddie grimaces. “Probably.”

“That’s alright. Anything you can or want to do yourself?”

Eddie focuses on his jeans first. They unbutton and unzip just fine, and Eddie can get them most of the way over his hips, but he eventually gives up with a sigh. “‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

“I volunteered,” Steve reminds him, helping him out of his pants.

He quickly undresses Eddie the rest of the way and alternates between two cloths, one wet and soapy and one dry, so he doesn’t get the bandages wet. He zones out halfway through, glancing over at the sink multiple times.

The last time he does, Eddie gently taps him on the forehead. “I’d say penny for your thoughts, but I don’t think I have a penny.”

Steve chuckles, grins up at Eddie. “Then it’s a good think I’ll give them to you for free.” His smile turns smaller, more genuine. “I was wondering if there was a way to get a chair in here so we could wash your hair.”

“Oh,” Eddie murmurs, because it had been far too long since he’d last washed his hair. “That would be really nice.”

“Then I’ll find a way to do it,” Steve swears. “But I think the chair will work. Once you’re dressed again, I’ll go get it.”

He finishes bathing Eddie, helps him into clean clothes, and guides him back to the toilet. “Wait here,” he tells him, and runs out of the room in search of a chair.

He finds one that’s roughly the right height and brings it back, draping a towel over the edge of the sink for cushion, gesturing Eddie over and holding his hair up as he gets situated.

He starts washing, and it’s different in the sink, with a faucet that doesn’t move and is so close to the basin, but he makes do; cups warm-almost-hot water in his hands, lets it dribble over Eddie’s scalp.

He massages the shampoo in and Eddie hums. He rakes his fingers through the ends of Eddie’s hair, lathered with conditioner, and Eddie makes a breathless little sound.

Steve’s breath catches in his throat and he stills. “Good or bad sound?”

Another hum. “Good. Sorry. Jus’… relaxed.”

“‘S alright,” Steve murmurs back. “Just making sure.”

“‘S good,” Eddie promises, voice barely a whisper now.

“I’m glad,” Steve whispers back, and finishes washing his hair in silence.

Eddie’s tired after, eyes slipping shut even as he sits up in the chair and Steve dries his hair, so Steve takes mercy on him when his hair is half dry and leads him to bed. “Take a nap,” he whispers. “I’ll clean up and be out of your hair. I’ll be in my room with the door open if you need anything.”

Eddie hums, eyes slipping shut again as he grabs at Steve’s hand. “Stay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Just let me throw the towels in the hamper.”

Eddie hums, hand dropping back down to the bed and eyes slitting open as he watches Steve walk to the bathroom.

He’s back less than a minute later, smiling at Eddie as he tries to stay awake. “Go to sleep,” he laughs, sliding in between the sheets next to Eddie. “I’m here. I’m not leaving. Now sleep.”

Eddie lets his eyes close as he moves his hand under the sheets, searching for Steve’s. When he finds it, he grabs and squeezes it, just once, and falls asleep.

Steve doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but there’s not much keeping him awake. He awakens later to Eddie trying to leverage himself out of bed.

He sits up with a snort, blinking at Eddie. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie tosses an apologetic look over his shoulder. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to wake you. I just needed to use the bathroom.”

Steve hums, stands, walks over to Eddie and helps him up. “I don’t mind you waking me. I’d actually prefer you did, instead of popping your stitches.” He grins, pokes at a bit of Eddie’s side that he knows is unharmed.

Eddie grins back, wide and happy. “I’ve gotta learn. ‘S not like this arrangement is gonna continue. You’ve got your bed and I’ve got mine.”

“It could,” Steve considers. “What if you’re trying to get up in the middle of the night and can’t? What if you have a nightmare and thrash around and pop a stitch?”

“What if you barely sleep because you’re not used to another person in bed with you?”

“What if,” Steve whispers, “that nap was the most restful sleep I’ve gotten in a while?”

“Really?”

Steve looks down, realizes he’s still holding Eddie’s hands. He lets go, takes a step back. Doesn’t look up; he knows his face is burning. “Really.” He flicks his chin over to the bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll help you downstairs after, it’s almost dinner time.”

Eddie doesn’t move for a minute. Steve chances a glance up at him, and his breath catches at the naked affection staring back at him.

It’s only after Steve looks up at him that Eddie moves, stumbling over to the bathroom and quickly finishing up. Steve stands still, staring at where the sheets are messed up. Two spots. He’s not used to that in his bed. Even when he’d have girls over, none of them wanted to stay the night. Even Nancy left.

But here he is, in a room in his house that isn’t actually his, with a guy, and they’ve been flirting with each other, and-

He thinks he needs to call Robin.

He thinks, as Eddie emerges from the bathroom and smiles at him, he knows exactly what he’s feeling, and doesn’t need to call Robin after all.

They make their way downstairs and Steve settles on a simple pasta dinner. Eddie somehow wiggles his way up onto the counter, and sits beside the stovetop, kicking his leg out and occasionally hitting Steve’s thigh. Steve always glances at him when he does, and it becomes a game, and soon enough they’re both giggling as Steve dumps the pasta into the boiling water.

The water splashes, and Eddie hisses, jerking his arm away and rubbing at it. Steve looks up, worried. “Did it get you?”

Eddie waves him off, nudging his thigh with his foot again. “‘M alright. Not even a mark, ‘s just hot.”

“Still,” Steve says, and steps closer. “Can I see?”

Eddie stares at him for a minute. Offers him his arm.

He’s right. There’s no mark apart from an old scar, years old and years healed. Steve’s hand comes up, and his thumb strokes the scar, then down a little, towards his elbow. “Well?” Eddie asks teasingly. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”

Steve stares at him flatly, playing into it. “You’ll live,” he says, completely deadpan, grinning when Eddie giggles. He bumps Eddie’s knee with his hip, moves away to collect plates and silverware. “Make yourself useful and stir the pasta, would you?”

Eddie sticks his tongue out but picks up the spoon and does as he’s asked.

And so it goes. They’re mostly left unattended, as Wayne is usually at work, but sometimes he’ll sit on the couch with Steve and they’ll watch football or baseball, much to the chagrin of Eddie, who takes every opportunity possible to bemoan the existence of sports for stealing Steve’s attention away from him.

Steve doesn’t tell him that even when his eyes are on the TV, his mind is on Eddie. He’s well aware he falls too fast, too hard.

He helps Eddie up and down the stairs. He gives him sponge baths and washes his hair. Eventually his wounds begin to heal, and he’s able to get up and down the stairs on his own, if not a lot slower than usual.

He starts taking quick showers on his own. Steve still washes his hair in the sink, and now he helps Eddie change his bandages after he showers.

One day, Eddie hesitates on the edge of the bathroom threshold. “I don’t…” he looks away, bites his lip. Puts his arms up, tousles the top of his hair to prove his point. “I can do it on my own now.”

“Oh,” Steve says, feeling strangely heartbroken. “Right, yeah, that’s great. I’ll just, uh-” he takes a step back, angles his thumb behind him.

Eddie jerks forward, wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist. “But you could help? If you wanted?”

Steve tugs Eddie over to the bed, sits on the edge. Doesn’t say anything until Eddie sits, too. He plays with the frame of his glasses as he says, “You’ve been flirting with me.” Eddie lets go of his wrist. Steve tries not to miss it. “It’s… it’s okay. You don’t have to stop. I just need you to be honest with me.”

“Anything,” Eddie whispers, and Steve drops his voice to match.

“Do you mean it? Or are you just flirting because you can?”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw, and oh, Steve thinks.

Oh.

“Really?” He whispers, and Eddie nods.

“Really.”

“I can’t,” Steve murmurs. “I can’t do this if you just like me. If this is… is gonna be a fling, or whatever.”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs again. “I’ve long since healed enough to sleep alone. I don’t want to. I want to wake up to your face every day. I want to bring you your glasses when you forget them, I want to stir your pasta sauces and annoy you in the kitchen until you threaten to throw me out, even if we both know you never will. I want to be the one you come home to every day, the one you turn to when you need support. I want you to feel safe with me the way I do with you.” His thumb strokes Steve’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Because I do. I feel safe with you. You make me feel safe. You- baby.” He strokes Steve’s cheek again, studies his eyes. “Baby. Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve gasps, and Eddie does.

He leans in slowly, enough time for Steve to close his eyes and part his lips the barest amount, not out of any desire to tease, but just because he’s feeling so much he can’t contain it all, and it has to come out in gasps and breaths and small, shaky moans, when Eddie licks into his mouth, pulls his tongue into a tango, back and forth and in and out until Steve’s positively dizzy with it.

He pulls back just to tilt his head the other way and dive in with just as much fervor, sucking Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it until it’s swollen and tender and Steve feels like he could float away.

Steve breaks the kiss first, dizzy and panting and overwhelmed, leaning forward and pulling Eddie into a hug. “I’m so glad,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think…”

“Of course I would,” Eddie mutters back, holding Steve tight. “Of course I would, baby. Didn’t have a chance, really, was just gone on you from the moment I saw you.”

Steve pulls back, tugs Eddie down until they’re both laying down, halfway on the bed, noses nearly brushing. “And you want me to… to help?”

Eddie grins big enough his eyes are slits. “I’m gonna be honest here, sweetheart, I definitely imagined help would come after.”

Steve giggles back, leans in to steal a peck of a kiss. “I can do that,” he agrees, standing up and pulling Eddie to the bathroom.

They’re both laughing like little kids as they go, and a part of Steve wonders if that’s what falling in love is: growing young again.

[silent-stories]

𝐍𝐎𝐀𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (but you love him anyway)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Noah had been counting down the days for weeks. He loved being on tour but he hated when you couldn’t go with him and he just wanted the moment when he stepped off that plane and into your arms to come soon. Your anniversary was today, and he was determined to make it special in the easy way he know you liked.

His original plan was simple: surprise you in the early morning, sneak in beside you when you were still in bed, and wake you with a kiss. Maybe breakfast in bed. He had even booked the flight to ensure he’d be home before you woke up.

But life had other plans.

It started with a delay, then another delay, and finally, after hours of waiting at the airport, the flight was canceled altogether. Noah had tried everything, getting on standby, begging at the counter for any way home, but there was nothing he could do but wait for another flight.

His texts to you in the morning had been hopeful. He didn’t want to let on just how worried he was. "I’ll be home soon," he'd written, trying to stay positive, but as each hour ticked by, the guilt gnawed at him. He was letting you down. He wasn’t going to be there. He was missing everything.

There were a lot of other people in the same situation as him and he couldn't even find a phone charging station with a free spot to save his dying phone.

"You can call her with mine, at least tell her that everything is fine and that you won't be able to make it in time." Folio had suggested.

"No, I can't not get there in time."

"Noah, it's almost nine pm and we're not yet-"

"I don't care. I just can't."

Folio had watched his friend walk nervously in circles until they finally boarded the plane that would take them home.

By the time he finally took the last possible flight, it was late. Way too late.

He was arriving home in the dead of night, long after the anniversary day had come and gone.

Noah pushed open the door to your shared apartment quietly, hoping you might somehow still be awake. He dropped his bags just inside the doorway and let out a long, tired sigh. His body ached from the hours of waiting and hoping.

In one hand, he held a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers he could find at the airport, a delicate mix of your favorite colors. Even though by now, it almost made no sense to give them to you anymore, for him.

The soft glow of the living room light drew him in. His heart squeezed when he saw you on the couch, curled up under a blanket.

You had fallen asleep waiting for him.

You must have tried to stay awake, hoping he’d make it in time. The coffee table was scattered with the remnants of a meal, something you had likely planned to share with him. Now, cold plates and empty glasses were all that remained of the evening that could have been.

Noah's throat tightened, and he dropped to his knees beside the couch. “Oh god…” he whispered to himself. “I’m so sorry.”

His hand gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, and he hated himself for disappointing you. You deserved so much better. He had promised you a perfect day, and instead, he had left you alone.

“Fuck. I’m such a shitty boyfriend,” he murmured. His hand trembled slightly as he touched your cheek. He hated himself for making you wait, for letting you down on the one day that mattered most to you both.

As if sensing his presence, you stirred. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking as you adjusted to the dim light. You saw Noah kneeling beside you, his face etched with guilt and exhaustion. Despite the late hour, your lips curled into a soft smile.

“You’re home,” you whispered, voice hoarse from sleep but filled with relief. You shifted under the blanket and sat up, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you looked at him.

He nodded. “I’m so sorry, love,” he choked out, shaking his head in disbelief at himself.

You weren't sure if the twinkle in his eyes was from the light or from the tears he was holding back.

“I missed everything. I wanted to be here so badly, but the flights—everything got delayed and canceled and...”

He trailed off, his voice catching as the tears threatened to spill over. "I ruined our anniversary. I’m such an awful boyfriend, I'm so sorry.”

You sat up fully now, heart aching at the sight of him on the verge of tears. Noah wasn’t one to get emotional like this, and seeing him so broken over something he couldn’t control made you want to pull him close and never let go.

“Oh, Noah…” you whispered gently, reaching for him. Your fingers brushed his cheek, wiping away the tear that had finally escaped. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“But I—” he started, but you cut him off with a soft kiss. His breath hitched as your lips met his. You wanted him to know that it was okay. That you weren’t mad at him. That you were just glad he was finally home.

When you pulled back, his eyes were still glassy, but some of the guilt had begun to ease. “You waited up for me…” he murmured, glancing at the empty plates on the table, the melted candle wax that had once lit the room. “You did all this… and I wasn’t here.”

You shook your head, your fingers threading gently through his dark hair, your arms still gently resting around his neck.

“I did it because I love you. I wanted to spend the day with you, yes. But I’m not mad. How could I be mad when you tried so hard to get here? You can’t control flights, Noah.”

“I just… I wanted it to be perfect. You deserve that.” he whispered.

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing the stubble on his jaw as you held his gaze. “You are perfect,” you said softly. “You being here is all that matters. I don’t care about the time or what we didn’t do. I care that you’re home safe. I care that you love me enough to try this hard. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Noah’s chest tightened at your words. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve you, but in that moment, he knew he’d never take you for granted again.

“I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, closing your eyes as you pressed another soft kiss to his lips.

When you finally pulled away, you patted the space beside you on the couch. “Come here. Sit with me.”

Noah didn’t hesitate. He climbed onto the couch, immediately pulling you into his arms. The warmth of your body against his was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d been craving all day. You fit perfectly against him, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around you.

That's when you noticed the bouquet sitting beside the coffee table, its soft colors peeking out from the edge of the crumpled brown paper around the flowers. You couldn’t help but smile as you picked it up and held it against your body.

"Hey, you got me flowers," you said softly, your voice filled with surprise and affection.

Noah’s eyes met the flowers in your hands, and he chuckled, his exhaustion still evident but softened by the hint of a smile. “Yeah, I... I got them for you this morning. I wanted it to be part of the surprise.”

You carefully examined the bouquet—a mix of pink roses, white peonies, and a few sprigs of lavender. It was beautiful, just like him. “They’re perfect, thank you.”

"I'm sorry that now they’re a bit-"

"Shut up. I said they are perfect. Thank you for this."

He let out a small laugh as you snuggled agaisnt him again.

You lay there in silence for a while, the weight of the day slowly fading as the steady beat of Noah’s heart lulled you into a peaceful calm. He kissed the top of your head and sighed, the last bit of tension in his body finally releasing as he held you close.

“I’m still sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled against his chest, snuggling closer. “You’re forgiven, Sebastian,” you said softly, a little chuckle leaving your lips. “Now stop apologizing and just be here with me."

He let out a soft laugh, a sound that made your heart swell. “Okay, okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that was all you needed.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @mathfairchild1 @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme

[hgfictionwriter]

First Impressions

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Varsity athletes are all the same. They aren't interested in a real relationship or connection. And Jessie Fleming - you've heard about her - she's no exception. But maybe, just maybe, first impressions aren't everything.

Warnings: Suggestive language, but nothing overly explicit.

A/N: I've gotten a few requests for frat boy Jessie. This is my version of that. Out of character (OOC) Jessie. From my perspective anyway lol. But hopefully it’s entertaining!

“Oh, sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You retracted your hand after reaching for a bottle of liquor at the same time as someone else and they did the same.

“Go ahead,” you offered with a nod to the bottle and the girl offered you a smile in return.

“Thanks. Here - I’ll make you your drink. What were you wanting?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll make mine after,” you dismissed as you stepped back.

The girl gave you a teasing frown before giving you a quick once over that caused you to avert your gaze and cross your arms. She chuckled.

“Please. Let me make you a drink. It’s the least I can do for accidentally cutting in line,” she offered once more.

While you’d felt neutral about the whole exchange initially, now you felt irritation starting to brim. Between this brunette’s charming smile and varsity athletic gear, you really didn’t need to know more. They were all like this. They were all the same.

Unfortunately, one of your friends was now dating a member of the Bruins soccer team and, despite all odds, you found yourself tip-toeing into this world you'd heard all about and really had no interest in.

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine,” you relinquished flatly with a tired sigh. “Vodka cran.”

“Fancy,” she said simply with a smirk as she turned her back to you and made the drink.

You rolled your eyes once more though she couldn’t see you this time. You mustered up a stiff smile as she turned back around holding out the drink for you.

“Thanks,” you offered plainly and was about to turn to leave when she interjected.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you at one of Teagan’s parties before,” she commented lightly as she began to fix her own drink. “Who’d you come with tonight?”

You arched an eyebrow. “No. First time. And I’m friends with Mel.”

The girl frowned in thought for a moment as she took a sip of her drink. “Oh - [teammate’s] new girlfriend! Got it. Alright, cool. Well, welcome. Teagan’s winter break parties are the best,” she finished with a smile before extending her hand. “I’m Jessie.”

Jessie? Jessie Fleming, likely. So this is the famous captain of the Bruins. She’d heard about her through Mel. And seeing her now, all the stories and rumours made sense.

There she stood before you, smiling sweetly and acting so polite. And with that curly hair, those freckles and those eyes, she seemed perfectly nice, perfectly harmless. But you’d also heard of the girls she’d won over with her innocent charm and left in her wake.

You smirked as you took her hand.

“Y/N.”

She smiled wider, eyes travelling discretely once more and you retracted your hand as you lifted your eyebrows at her.

“Thanks for the drink, Jessie. Have a good night,” you said politely with a smile as you turned on your heel, admittedly enjoying the subtle flash of surprise on her face at your departure.

——————

A new semester started and you sat down in the one of the front rows of a class. You were opening your laptop when someone sat down in the seat next to yours. You paid them no mind until they spoke.

“I thought that might be you.”

A frown of confusion immediately crossed your face as you turned towards the voice.

“Jessie?” You asked, your tone not remotely veiling your surprise. She laughed good naturedly as she pulled out her own laptop.

“So you do remember me. You were in such a rush to leave I thought you’d forgotten our introduction,” she teased with a smile.

You rolled your eyes immediately and huffed. “I was not in a rush. We finished our introductions and that was that.”

“We exchanged names,” she said in mock contemplation before giving you a look. “I suppose that’s an introduction.”

You shrugged lightly returning your attention to the front of the class. “Suppose so.” You heard her snicker as she began prepping for class.

You couldn’t quite help yourself as you spied on the various lecture documents and notebooks she had pulled up.

“I didn’t take you for an environmental studies kind of person,” you said. This time she gave you a frown.

“Why? I wish I could take more of these courses actually,” she countered.

You blushed, feeling a bit foolish now. “I don’t know,” you mumbled as you tried to choose your words carefully. “I guess I’ve just seen, you know, other people, not have much interest in this kind of thing.”

She smirked. “By ‘people’ do you mean jocks? AKA,” she paused to shift in her seat to face you more directly, “elite level athletes who, despite stereotypes, have to maintain a particular academic performance to remain on said teams and can actually be fully developed individuals with interests and passions outside of sports?”

You gave her a withering stare, but hated to acknowledge the way your cheeks burned under her scrutiny.

“I recognize that,” you said pointedly before turning up your nose at her. “But yes. That’s mostly what I meant,” you said facetiously.

To your surprise she laughed, sitting back in her seat once more.

“Well. You’re not entirely wrong. Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason,” she acquiesced mildly. “But I, for one, don’t like being painted that way,” she said, mimicking your tone and demeanour. You had to laugh.

“Touché,” you relented. “So,” you started slowly, finding yourself fidgeting for some reason. “What is your major, then?”

“Materials Engineering,” she responded easily, not even bothering to make eye contact. “And considering a minor in environmental studies if I can make it work.”

“Oh,” you said, taken aback. You didn’t see that one coming.

“And you?” She asked, now looking over.

It took you a beat but you gestured vaguely to the front of the room. “Environmental studies.”

She smiled and gave you a nod before focusing on her screen momentarily. “It’s important work. Do you know what you want to do for a career?”

“Um. Government work - hopefully influencing policy,” you answered somewhat slowly, still processing that you were having this vein of conversation with Jessie. You nearly shook your head as you refocused. “What about you? I mean. I’m guessing you’re going to go pro?”

“That’s the hope,” she said as she turned to you. “But I know I’ll have a life and career after soccer. That’s really important to me. So I’m looking to find something that allows me to help promote sustainability in some way.”

Okay. You really didn’t expect this. The Jessie you’d heard about was not the Jessie you were actively conversing with. You were really having trouble reconciling the two images.

You had another question on the tip of your tongue but the professor began her lecture.

You couldn’t help but notice how attentive Jessie was throughout class and how thorough her notes were. Maybe there really was more to her than all of the team antics.

Still, academically-minded or not, the very real fact is that she was very casual with girls. That was not the kind of situation you wanted to get entangled in. She just wasn't your type.

Class ended and you were about to close your laptop when she reached across and started typing on your computer.

“My number. In case you want to talk about the readings or assignment,” she said simply as she began packing up. She stood and offered you another charming smile. “It was really good to see you again and to get to know you better.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and gave you a wink. “Same time next week? See ya.”

——————

“Hey, want to study together for the mid-term?”

You paused your movements as you turned to Jessie at her question. If she noticed your hesitation, she didn’t acknowledge it and merely continued packing up her things.

“I guess…,” you offered slowly.

You felt conflicted. She’d sat next to you each class and despite yourself you actually found yourself looking forward to seeing her. You didn’t even want to admit it to yourself but you’d started showing up earlier for class in case she did too and you could talk longer. You'd even started walking to your next classes together or grabbing a coffee in between.

This was dangerous territory.

She chuckled and gave you a sidelong glance.

“You don’t have to. I just thought we could.” She crossed her arms as she stood and gave you a smirk. “I was hoping by now I’d proved that I actually have a brain. I was also hoping, heaven forbid, that we might even be friends.”

You clicked your tongue as you stood, giving her a chiding stare. “Study buddies,” you said with a smirk of your own before going on facetiously. “Friends is really pushing it.”

She held up her hands in jest. “My apologies.”

“Yes, let’s study together,” you clarified, giving her a slight nudge with your shoulder and she beamed at you.

“And hey, bonus, practices start up next week. Even practices can be a lot of fun to watch. It’s a good time and we go out after. You should come. Support your new study buddy,” she finished with a grin.

“Mm that’s quite alright,” you said with a playful smirk. “Soccer’s not my thing. As you know.”

Jessie exhaled and placed her hands on her hips. You inadvertently looked away.

“Fine. Don’t come for the full thing. Just join us after. Won't Mel be there?” She asked. You shrugged a shoulder.

"I'm not sure," you replied patiently. "I haven't exactly asked."

She tilted her head as she gave a winning smile. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Yeah?” You asked in jokingly flirtatious matter. “And for how many other girls?” You couldn’t help but ask.

Her expression faltered briefly before she subtly narrowed her eyes, something dawning on her.

“Oh. I see. Well, I can’t say other girls are my study buddy,” she said with a sly grin before dropping it. “No. Seriously. I feel like we’ve had some very good conversations. I-,” she paused, blushing lightly now, “don’t talk to a lot of girls outside of the football world. It’s been really nice and different talking about real matters and serious things. I like it.”

You felt your cheeks heating up and you forced an eye roll while you folded your arms against your chest.

"Yeah, I'll bet," you teased.

"Come on," she coaxed. "Admit it. You like me at least a tiny bit." She tacked on quickly and placatingly, "As a friend."

You chuckled giving your head a light shake. "Sure," you relented as you cracked a crooked smile. "You're alright."

She made a fist a gave a single pump of her arm jokingly with a mouthed "Yes". She offered a playful grin. "I knew it."

"Oh my gosh," you said as you gave her a light shove and you two began to exit the lecture hall. "Now I'm definitely not coming."

----------

"You made it," Jessie said, freshly showered and with a bright smile as you walked down the bleachers to greet her at the sidelines.

"Don't get too carried away," you replied dryly. "I only got here 5 minutes before the final whistle. I didn't exactly see this skillful mastery everyone seems to rave about."

"There'll be lots of other times for that," she replied without missing a beat as she poised an elbow on the barrier and rest her chin in her hand.

"Uh huh," you went on flatly. "That's not presumptuous at all."

"Did you see my freekick goal at the end there?" She asked, again undeterred.

"I don't know what a freekick is, but I saw you score, yes," you went on allowing the faintest smirk as you recalled her waving to you as she jogged over to take the kick. You smirked further. "How many points do you get for a goal?"

Her face dropped and her arms fell to her sides as she looked at you in dismay. "You're just messing with me now." You laughed.

"Maybe. It's kind of fun." She smiled at your comment and you had to stop yourself from smiling too much in return. You cleared your throat and looked away briefly. She was still smiling at you when you looked back.

"Ready to go?"

Your stomach flipped over and over as you two caught up with the rest of the group on the walk over to a nearby bar. You were nervous - she made you nervous. In good ways and bad and you questioned yourself on if you should be here, but yet your feet carried you forward and your eyes found her throughout the night anytime she wasn't next to you.

So much for keeping your distance.

The drinks flowed and though Mel was there and you made a point of not staying too focused on Jessie, you might have to admit you weren't entirely successful.

"Here - and with some water this time, too. You should try to stay hydrated," she said as she returned with another refill for you.

"How thoughtful." You meant to say it sarcastically, but it didn't quite come out that way. She merely winked and took a sip of her drink.

You must be drunk because that stupid wink was enough to disarm you even further. A part of you tried to coach yourself into biting your tongue, but instead you spoke your mind.

"What are you doing?" You asked, spurring a perplexed expression from her. She took another sip.

"What do you mean?"

"What are you doing?" You asked as if it was entirely obvious. "I saw your little fan club at practice. I saw that girl chatting you up at the bar. Why are you here talking to me?" You went on putting on an air of both teasing and indifference.

She arched an eyebrow, holding your gaze and you had to steel yourself to not look away.

"Sounds like you're watching me pretty closely," she relayed with a similar nonchalance and you immediately scoffed.

"Don't deflect. I'm just curious," you said lightly with a shrug and a swig. "Mel's in this world now, so I've heard stories about you, Fleming," you finished as you set down your drink and leaned back, waiting expectantly and rather smugly.

This time Jessie was the one to scoff. "Yeah? Like what."

You didn't flinch or shy away, instead leaning in. "Oh you know, just about the girls you don't text back."

Her freckled cheeks started to turn pink and she broke your gaze momentarily, leaving you feeling vindicated.

She opened her mouth to speak, but paused and shrugged a second later instead.

"I won't lie. Yes...first year here things were a little...eventful. It was my first year away from home, living this new life, a fresh start where I could build whatever personality I wanted. And I had fun with that. But things are less so like that now." She held up her index finger. "And, I need to point out, that I don't make promises. I think I'm pretty clear that things are casual."

You digested her words and eventually gave a nod before taking another measured sip.

"Okay. Fair enough. So casual's all you're into then."

"No," she answered easily with a slight shake of her head. "That's all I was interested in before. There wasn't anyone I wanted to actually date. And, honestly, that's easiest with my schedule. But," she gave a light shrug, "if the right girl came along, I could commit."

You felt a smile forming and tried to hold back a laugh, but failed. She shot you an offended look and you waved in apology.

"Sorry. It's just kind of funny. You 'could' commit. Okay," you snickered a bit more as you took another sip. A hint of regret washed over you at the hurt expression on her face.

"I'm being serious here," she said. "And you asked me why I'm talking to you instead of those other girls. Because. I want to talk to you. I'm interested in you. And 'no' - because I know you're going to make a comment about it - this is not what it was like with the other girls. We've actually talked and I genuinely like you and want to know you better. And for the record - I actually hate studying with other people. I find it distracting and it slows me down, but I respect how smart you are and I love hearing you talk about things you're passionate about and I want to spend more time with you."

The rim of your glass was held poised at your lips as you blinked at her. You abandoned your drink, setting it down on the coaster before leaning forward, folding your arms across the top of your legs.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I hear you," you said, humbled by her declaration and feeling guilty about judging her the way you had.

She gave a quiet sigh and took a sip of her drink.

"It's okay," she went on quietly. "It's not your fault. You didn't create this reputation. I'm sorry," she went on. "That was a bit much."

"No. I'm glad you were honest. Thank you," you corrected her.

You two sat silently together, the din of the busy bar a continuous rumbling around you before you spoke once more.

"I am sorry, Jess. I judged you and I shouldn't have. And I've been holding onto that image of you even though, you're right, our conversations have relayed otherwise," you said.

"Thanks," she said with a soft smile before she turned her attention to her glass, swirling the remainder of her drink. She looked back up after a moment. "And, you know, hopefully we can still be friends. Oh wait," she paused with a teasing eyeroll, "sorry. Study buddies. Totally understand if you're not interested in something more."

You smirked and nudged her knee with yours. "We can be friends," you returned her eyeroll and spoke as though the offer was a great sacrifice. You smiled as she laughed warmly. She drained her drink and held out her hand to you.

"Friends?"

"Friends," you said as you shook her hand. Admittedly, it took you a couple of seconds too long to drop her hold. Your chest warmed as she smiled at you.

"Hey," you went on as you leaned in a touch. "Do you want to get out of here?"

She gave you a blank stare and it took her a beat to reply before she gave a shake of her head. "Yeah. Course. Let's go." She rose from her chair and offered you her hand. You took it.

Conversation was quieter between you two than normal as you walked back towards the dorms, but it was comfortable and easy all things considered. Any tension you were feeling right now was a kind you'd been too afraid to acknowledge previously.

"Your dorm's the other way," you said as Jessie walked past her turn alongside you.

"I know. I'll walk you back to your dorm," she replied easily and gave a nod of her head, urging you to continue walking with her.

Soon enough you were at your door, the two of you facing one another.

"Well, I'm glad you came out tonight," she said with a hint of a smirk. You mirrored it.

"Yeah. Me too," you agreed. "It was nice." A beat passed and you said in a rush, "Hey, are you busy this weekend?"

"Mm, I'm doing a few things with Teags, Mia and the crew, but, yeah, I have time. Did you...have something in mind?"

Your gaze shifted away and you felt your face begin to heat up. "Oh I don't know. I was just thinking if you're bored maybe we could, I don't know. Do something."

A smile grew across Jessie's face and she looked at you unwaveringly despite the way your gaze flit around the hallway.

"I'd love to do something. And not because I'm bored," she chuckled. "Can I take you out to dinner? Or is that too much."

You scratched the back of your neck distractedly, tucking one hand behind your back. "Oh, no, that's fine. Sounds good."

"Okay," Jessie chuckled. "We can go to that Mediterranean place you wanted to check out."

You gave a pointed nod of your head. "Ah. You were listening and paying attention."

"Of course," she laughed. She gave a half smile and held up her index fingers as though something just came to mind. "Oh. And, me and the girls are gonna play a pickup game Sunday morning and grab lunch after. It'd be cool if you came."

"Cool, huh?" You smirked and she rolled her eyes.

"I'd like it if you came," she corrected with a lopsided grin.

You sighed as though the request was a chore. "I suppose I have a few things to learn about soccer. Watching a game might help."

Jessie laughed. "If you think I talk your ear off about engineering and sustainability, just wait 'til you get me talking about soccer."

"Can't wait," you said without your usual sarcasm and with a quiet smile instead.

A beat passed and the tension between you was high. You rose onto the balls of your feet briefly before dropping back down. "Well, good night, then. Thanks for walking me home."

"Happy to," she said.

You pulled each other in for a hug and whether it was the liquid courage or something more, you found your hand weaving through her hair. She held you close and neither of you pulled back right away. And when you did, your cheeks brushed and it was only far enough for you to look at each other, seeking silent approval from one another before you captured her lips in a kiss.

All of your hesitation and careful control went straight out the window and soon your hands were wandering and exploring her body, as were her hands on you. Before you knew it, you were pulling her with you so your back was against the door and your kisses grew heavier and deeper.

Your core pulsed with want and you could feel arousal starting to pool in the fabric of your underwear as you both subtly ground against one another. The one shred of restraint left in you couldn't believe you were honestly contemplating inviting her in. Thankfully, she spared you the rashness as she broke off the kiss, resting her forehead against yours as you both caught your breath.

She chuckled with a smile. "Right. I said I was going to go." You bit your lip, your eyes trailing down to her mouth that you were craving more of. She kissed you slow before pulling back.

"We can take our time," she promised and it brought you back to your senses.

"Yeah, of course," you agreed, nodding readily. She took a step back, wishing you a good night.

"Text me to let me know you got back safe," you told her. She gave you a shit-eating grin.

"Aww, you care."

"Don't start with me," you warned her though you both laughed. She snuck a quick peck on the cheek.

"Sweet dreams," she said with a wink as she turned around. You watched her retreating form for a few seconds before calling out.

"On a scale of 1-10, how casual is this?"

She turned around with a smile, placing her hands in her pockets and cocking her head.

"How casual do you want it to be?"

Whether it was 'cool' to say it not, you said, "Not very."

Her smile widened and she gave a nod. "'Kay. I can do that. Legitimately though, I am on the road a lot. Is that okay with you?"

"Depends. Do you fuck around on the road?" You asked easily.

"If I'm committed to you? Then 'no'. Hard to believe based on the stories you've heard, but, context is key. To the people I care about - I'm really loyal. Ask anyone who knows me. They'll tell you," she said.

"'Kay," you said, ignoring how you toed the hallway floor like some silly school girl. "Don't break my trust Fleming and we'll be good."

She winked and began to turn on her heel. "See you in class tomorrow."

A/N: I was going to write this as smut, but it became too long! I definitely have a vision for Part Two (I.e. smut) in this story if there’s interest though.

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P12

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: I lowkey hate this ngl but Anyways!!!! The big day of the court hearing has finally arrived and I can't help but stir the pot. Also I'm imagining Hale as a total girl boss (if you get my vision). Baby Rafe and Y/n are so cute I'm dying. Sorry for taking so long with this chapter I'm a little in a writing stump but I'm getting there :)

warnings: references to s/a and non-con, emotional turmoil, inaccurate court proceedings (don't kill me im just a girl with a dream), Cooper (he deserves a warning), mentions of intoxication and alcohol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N sat near the tall window, staring out at the sky, now a deep orange, the rising sun peeking over the waters surrounding the Cameron’s dock. Her fingers anxiously worked at the buttons on the white material of her Chanel blazer. The polished luxury of it didn’t match how she felt- exposed. The world outside was still, but inside the office, the pressure pressed down on her chest. Across the room, Rafe adjusted the cuffs of his shirt for the third time, pulling at the stiff collar of his tailored suit. His tie was perfectly knotted, yet he kept tugging at it, like it was choking him. He didn’t speak, but his restless energy filled the space.

Their lawyer, Charlotte Hale, stood near the fireplace, flipping through a stack of papers in a leather folder. She was a powerhouse- a well-known defense attorney with a reputation for being ruthless in the courtroom. Years of high-profile cases in North Carolina had made her reputation the best in the state- Ward had pulled strings to get her on this case, knowing they needed someone unshakable in court, relentless with opposition. She shut the folder with a soft snap and looked up at the two teens in front of her.

“Alright. We’ve been over this.” Her voice was smooth but firm. “Rafe, you stay focused. No outbursts, no attitude. You explain why you did what you did and let me handle the rest. Y/N, they’re going to come at you and try to make you doubt yourself or twist your words. Don’t let them do that.”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a breath, “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

Y/N nodded slowly, but her stomach twisted. Hale's eyes narrowed slightly, reading the tension between them. 

“The prosecution’s going to lean on Cooper’s clean record. I know this isn’t easy, but remember, we’re prepared. You’re telling the truth, and the evidence supports you.”

But will they believe it?

The room felt heavier as Hale checked her watch. “I’m going to head out and make sure the car’s ready. I’ll meet you both outside.”

Her heels clicked against the floor as she left, leaving a thick silence in her wake. Y/N shifted, smoothing her skirt down for the seventh time in the past hour. She stared down at her hands, picking at a loose thread on her blazer. Rafe finally moved, walking over to stand beside her.

“Hey.”

She barely turned to look at him.

“You good?” His voice was lower now, softer and her breath caught for a second. 

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

That’s a lie 

Rafe hesitated before reaching out, his hand brushing lightly against her arm.

She flinched.

It was small, barely noticeable, but he felt it. His hand froze, and his expression tightened, pulling back slightly. He felt guilty everytime he touched her, forgetting about her reaction, he never seemed to remember that things between them still weren’t completely the same as they used to be. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice rough.

Y/N swallowed hard. “No, it’s… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” Rafe’s tone was careful now, more guarded.

Y/N stared down at her hands, fingers tangled in the loose thread of her blazer. Her chest felt tight, every breath shallow and uneven, Rafe shifted beside her, his movements uncertain.

“Jesus, Rafe…” her voice cracked, barely holding together. “I’m so scared.”

Rafe’s breath caught in his throat. Without thinking, he crouched down in front of her, lowering himself to her level. His suit creased as he balanced on the balls of his feet, close but not too close. Carefully, he placed a hand on her knee- a gentle, grounding touch. Y/N looked at the boy's hand, and after a moment, she laid her own over his, her grip tight.

Rafe didn’t move but heart tightened, seeing the fear etched on her face, even if she denied it. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on both of them, but he didn’t want her to feel like she was facing it alone. He moved a little closer, keeping his voice calm, but strong. 

“It’s okay, yeah? I’m gonna be sitting right next to you the whole time you’re not going to be alone in there.”

Her breath was shaky, but she looked at him, trying to hold herself together. “What if… what if I can’t handle it?” she whispered, her gaze falling to her lap. Rafe’s hand tightened slightly on hers, not enough to hurt but enough to let her know he was there,

“If it gets too much, you just tell me,” he said, his voice steady.

“We’ll step out. We can take a break, catch our breath. Whatever you need, I’ll be right there.”

Trust me

She looked up at him, a mixture of uncertainty in her eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything. He could see she was battling with herself- wanting to stay strong but feeling everything inside her unravel.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this by yourself,” he added softly, his words lingering between them, 

“We’re doing this together right?”

“Yeah”

“So that means we’ll deal with whatever the outcome is together okay” 

Y/N nodded, her throat tight, and though she didn’t have words to respond, the quiet understanding passed between them. Rafe’s hand on hers was the only thing that felt certain at that moment. Rafe stood in front of her, hand outstretched. 

“C’mon, princess,” 

...

He said, his smile light, Y/N’s hand hovered above his for a split second, before she paused, without a word she pulled her hand back, standing up on her own, and walking past him toward the door of the office. Her movements were stiff, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders were pulled tight, the way she avoided looking at him. He followed her closely, catching up just as she stopped at the door way. 

What was that?

“Are you okay?”

He asked, his brows drawn down slightly in confusion. She didn’t answer immediately, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Can you stop calling me that? ...Please?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard his tone called out perplexed, “What do you mean? It’s just a nickname, I’ve called you that since we were kids.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late afternoon sun dipped low over the Outer Banks, casting a soft golden haze across the sprawling Cameron estate, the chatter of adults spilled across the vast yard, the clinking of glasses and laughter occasionally arising. Rafe leaned against the brick wall, half-crushed juice box dangled from his fingers, the sticky liquid dripping onto his polo shirt. His hair was slightly messy from running with the other kids, though now he stood still, watching. 

Across the yard, tucked beneath the towering oak tree, Y/N sat alone in the grass. Her pale pink sundress was wrinkled from sitting too long, and a small silver tiara, pink gems embedded in the metal, was tilted awkwardly on her head. She threaded tiny wildflowers into a lopsided flower crown in her hands, lips pressed together in quiet determination, a small frown on her face.

Not far off, a group of slightly older girls huddled together, casting smug glances her way. One of them snickered loud enough to be heard, “She’s such a baby.” They broke into giggles, as they looked at the girl sitting on the floor, flipping their pigtails over their shoulders as they sauntered off toward the pool.

Rafe’s eyes narrowed.

At that moment he decided he didn’t like those girls. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets he stalked across the lawn toward Y/N, his trainers crunched over the dry grass, but she didn’t look up.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice flat but curious.

Y/N barely spared him a glance. “Making a crown.”

Rafe tilted his head. “Why?”

She let out a soft, frustrated sigh. “They said I can’t be a princess. But I can if I want to.” 

Her voice wavered just a little, but there was stubbornness in it too, the frown on her brow not easing. Rafe stared at her for a beat, then suddenly reached down and snatched the tiara off her head. She gasped, scrambling to her feet.

“Hey!” 

She attempted to grab it from him but he turned away, causing the girl to let out a huff and roll her eyes, stomping back to her spot under the tree plopping down onto the floor. However, instead of throwing it or making fun of her like she expected, Rafe carefully inspected the crooked tiara, looking at the little pink crystals on it, noticing the way it matched the pearly nailpolish on the girl's fingers, which were back to braiding the flowers together. With seriousness, he leaned down and placed it back on her head- straighter this time.

“You’re the princess of Figure Eight, they’re just jealous.”

He said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Y/N looked up to the boy skeptically, 

“You think so?”

Rafe shrugged, glancing over his shoulder toward where the other girls had gone, now sitting by the pool dipping their toes into the water, he grimaced as they giggled annoyingly. 

“Yup. So…do you need a knight?”

Her eyes lit up, a smile creeping onto her face. “Are you saying you’re my knight?”

Rafe wrinkled his nose. “No! Gross. I’m just saying… if they mess with you, I’ll throw mud at them or something.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cooper… he called me that when it happened.” 

Y/N turned to face him then, her gaze downcast, the words heavy on her lips, and it was like a punch to the boy’s gut, he hadn’t known. Rafe froze, guilt washing over him. 

“I didn’t know...” 

He reached out, but he didn’t touch her, not wanting to overwhelm her. Y/N didn’t respond at first, her eyes still focused on the ground. Rafe let out a long breath and nodded slowly. 

“I won’t call you that again- if uh, that's what you want.”

There was a long silence between them, and Y/N finally lifted her eyes to meet his. She nodded slightly, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. Rafe, not wanting to leave the conversation hanging awkwardly, cracked a small smile. 

“Well, if I’m not callin’ you ‘princess,’ I’ll have to find something else to call you, huh?” 

His tone was teasing, trying to break the tension. They began walking down the stairs, and Y/N’s fingers brushed against his as she moved down the steps, a small smile on her face as she walked alongside the boy, sending him a nod of agreement. They stood just outside the front doors of Tannyhill, the faint hum of the conversation behind them blending with the low murmur of water in the distance. Two cars were parked on the driveway ahead: their parents were deep in discussion with the lawyer.

Y/N’s eyes flickered between the cars, her fingers brushing over the hem of her blazer straightening it out as she pulled her matching white skirt down slightly. Rafe, standing close beside her, kept his hands by his side, yet he couldn't scratch the itch of wanting to take the girl's hand into his own, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her side. From behind them, a voice broke the silence drawing the boy from his daydream; 

“Y/N!”  

She turned, startled, Rafe glanced over his shoulder as well, his expression softening ever so slightly when he saw who it was. Wheezie, her dark hair bouncing around her shoulders, jogged toward them. She was holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, clumsily arranged but bright and cheerful nonetheless. She had been persistent on wanting to come to the courthouse with them but Ward refused her presence, the girl had been in a strop ever since, neither of them had seen her much since then. Wheezie came to a stop in front of Y/N. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around her in a tight hug. 

“Good luck today. You’ve got this.”  

Sweet girl

Y/N blinked, momentarily surprised, before she returned the hug with a small smile. “Thanks, Wheeze.”  

She pulled back and looked up at her brother. “You too, Rafe don’t mess up”  

Rafe scoffed lightly but ruffled her hair. “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.”  

Wheezie grinned before handing the wildflowers to the older girl. “These are for you. I picked them from the back garden because dad didn’t let me leave the house this morning. I thought you might like them- um well they’re not the best”  

Y/N’s heart swelled as she accepted the bouquet. Some of the small daisies sagged from their bent stems, drooping slightly from Wheezie’s strong grip, but Y/N adored the thoughtful gesture.

“They’re perfect,” she said softly, her fingers brushing over the delicate petals.

She’d love her 

Rafe watched her quietly, his eyes lingered on the fragile bouquet in Y/N’s hands. Something about the way she held them- careful and soft- stirred something deep in his chest. His mother would often stand barefoot in the garden, snipping wildflowers and humming to herself, weaving them together, leaving little glass jars of blooms around the house, the house always filled with the scent of flowers; roses, daisies, whatever she could find.

He swallowed hard, blinking the image away.

“C’mon,” 

He muttered, as he took a few steps away from the front doors, heading toward the cars waiting in the driveway, he paused, turning slightly over his shoulder.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said, his voice softer this time. Y/N lingered for a moment, leaning down slightly to press a gentle kiss to Wheezie’s forehead.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice full of warmth. Wheezie’s face lit up with a bright smile. “You’ll be fine don’t worry.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, squeezing the wilted bouquet a little tighter as she made her way down the steps of the patio. Walking up to the boy she pauses as the sound of the girls voice calls out again;

“You’ve got something hanging out of your pocket!”  

Wheezie piped up, eyes narrowing, Y/N paused, brows furrowed in confusion. She reached into the side of her blazer and felt the small, cool chain between her fingers.  

Oh 

She looked down to her hand as she pulled out the delicate gold necklace Rafe had given her long before things between them had spiraled. The dainty heart pendant swung gently at the end of the chain, catching the light from the sun. She turned to Rafe, holding it out between them as she asked softly, 

“Will you put it on for me?” 

Rafe blinked, caught off guard. His eyes flicked from the necklace to her face, trying to mask his surprise. A slow, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took the necklace from her hand. 

She kept it?

“Of course angel,” he murmured, stepping behind her.  

The nickname made her still for a moment.  

“Angel?” 

She asked quietly, her breath catching slightly as the words passed her lips. Rafe’s fingers worked the clasp with practiced ease, the gold coo against her skin. He hummed in response, the sound low and sure.  

“You’re my angel baby now”

Y/N’s hand instinctively rose to the pendant now resting against her skin, she turned slowly to face him, her fingers curling over the small heart as her eyes met his,

“I guess I am.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The white stone walls of the Kildare County Courthouse stood strongly, peering down at the commotion below. Both Kooks and Pogues mingled, a rare sight under normal circumstances, but today wasn’t normal considering the result of the most anticipated case the island was expecting was bound to be decided on today. Y/N stepped out of the car, the chatter washing over her like a wave, people turned to look as she approached the courthouse doors, already propped open with the steady flow of people filtering inside, others standing on their tiptoes to try and sight an empty seat inside. Some faces lit up with small, encouraging smiles as she walked past them towards the daunting . A few quiet, supportive voices broke through the crowd as she passed "Good luck, Y/N” or "You got this." arose from the chatter, she responded with a silent nod or small smile. 

But not all eyes were kind.

A few stares lingered too long, their eyes sharp with judgment. Subtle whispers rippled between tight-knit groups as she caught glimpses of people leaning into each other, murmuring things she couldn’t hear- and maybe didn’t want to. Despite the weight of their eyes, Y/N kept her chin high, shoulders squared. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her falter.

Rafe walked steadily beside her now, having caught up with the girl, his expression unreadable though his presence alone grounded her. Every now and then, his hand would brush lightly against hers in silent reassurance as they ascended the stone steps, to the open courthouse doors ahead, already littered with people, which Rafe had to push by to get through, grumbling under his breath. 

Get out of the way Jesus-

Every conversation bouncing off the walls, rows of people filled the benches, the divide between the two sides glaringly obvious. At the front, Topper, Kelce, Sarah, and John B sat close together, talking in hushed tones. Sarah's head snapped up first, her face softening when she saw Y/N.

"Y/N," Sarah was on her feet in an instant, pulling her into a tight hug, "are you okay?" her voice was barely above a whisper, concern heavy in every word. Y/N nodded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing. 

"Yeah, just…"

"...let’s get this over with" 

Rafe cut in smoothly, his tone firm, finishing her sentence for her, Y/N gave a small nod in agreement, offering Sarah a tight smile before pulling back.

Behind them, leaning casually against the wall, JJ, Kiara, and Pope watched the scene unfold. JJ’s jaw was tense, his arms crossed as his eyes flicked between the groups. Kiara muttered something under her breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Pope as he shook his head. Their glares were sharp, aimed squarely at the people gathered across the aisle on the other side of the hall.

The tension in the room was palpable, like the quiet before a storm.

Y/N's eyes drifted across the courtroom, scanning the faces on Cooper's side. Most were familiar- other Kooks she vaguely recognized- but a small group of sharply dressed people caught her attention. Their stiff posture and cold expressions stood out among the others. Leaning in slightly toward the group, Y/N lowered her voice. 

"Who are they?"

Topper followed her gaze, "They came down from New York, I heard. Family friends or something... probably here to make him look good."

"Right,"

As if that will help

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she muttered, her eyes narrowing for a moment before she pulled her focus back. Rafe glanced at her, catching the shift in her expression, but he didn’t say anything. The murmur of conversation in the courtroom seemed to fade, leaving an uneasy quiet in its wake. Y/N felt it first- but now her group had gone silent as well. The ambient noise around her dissipated, leaving a subtle tension hanging in the air. Confused, she glanced around. The teens in front of her had gone silent, their eyes were all trained on the door. A flicker of unease stirred in her stomach, and her gaze followed theirs as Cooper strolled in, his posture too relaxed for the gravity of the situation. His lawyer- sharp in a tailored suit- walked beside him, scanning the room with practiced detachment.

Y/N's eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, everything around them seemed to still.

Cooper’s steps were measured as he moved past, not rushing, knowing all eyes were on him, and as he neared her, he leaned closer just enough, his voice a quiet, deliberate hiss that only she could hear- but loud enough for the words to strike deep.

"Slut."

The insult sliced through the air, cold and sharp.

Y/N didn’t flinch. Her gaze remained steady, unwavering as she stared straight ahead. Her spine stayed stiff, her body unyielding, though her pulse quickened beneath the surface. Rafe’s head snapped in the direction of the boy’s movements, jaw clenching ferociously as he watched him walk by, Topper’s hand came out onto the boy's chest with a slight shake of his head, knowing exactly what he was thinking. 

Fucking asshole 

“C’mon” 

He says, his voice low, but firm, cutting through the tension. Y/n looks up at him, nodding as Rafe places a steadying hand on her back, a gesture that feels comforting during this period of uncertainty. His touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary, offering reassurance as they make their way down the row to their seats, as they move, the room seems to quiet down to a silence now all eyes turn toward them. People can’t help but watch the two who have been the center of the storm for weeks. Y/N holds her head up, though she feels every inch of their stares, the only thing that keeps her moving forward is Rafe’s presence beside her, strong and unwavering.

They reach the front of the courtroom, and Rafe pulls out a chair for Y/N before settling into his own seat beside her. His posture is stiff, his jaw tight with anticipation, but it’s clear he’s fully focused on Y/N. Hale stands at the front with the rest of the legal team, her gaze flicking between the opposing side and her clients, her steady presence adds an extra layer of security as they settle in. The moment they sit down, she turns toward them, giving a subtle nod of reassurance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe was called to the stand first, his movements smooth as he stood and took his place, his jaw set, his eyes steady. The room was silent as everyone waited for him to speak, watching as the Cameron boy walked behind the stand and sat down, he leant back in the chair as he watched Hale rise, her expression a mix of calculating and clinical as she addressed him.

“Mr. Cameron, can you walk us through what happened on the night in question? Start from when you noticed Ms Y/L/N was missing.”

Rafe’s voice was calm, controlled, though there was an undercurrent of intensity that wasn’t lost on anyone as he recited his memory of the events of the night. Hale nodded as she listened to the boy, her eyes looking over to the jury, where she noticed a few of them taking notes. She thanked Rafe as he finished his testimony and stepped to the side, Cooper’s lawyer standing and addressing him, eyes cold and calculating.

“Mr. Cameron,” 

Cooper's lawyer, Dune, began pacing slightly as he spoke, “You’ve testified that you walked into the room and found Ms Y/L/N in distress, but let’s go back a bit. You said you were looking for her because she had gone missing. Is that correct?”

Rafe nodded, his voice steady. “Yes. I couldn’t find her anywhere, which I thought was weird so I had to check around the house to find her.”

“Tell me something Rafe,” he paused, “Why wasn’t Y/n with you in the first place?”

Rafe’s expression remained neutral, though there was a subtle tension in his jaw as he looked at the man, he knew exactly what he was doing, Hale had told him about his possible strategies, trying to rile him up so he would have an outburst in front of the jury and prove his ‘violent’ nature- he wasn’t going to let that happen, if not for his own sake then for Y/n’s.

“She came to the party with Cooper. We weren’t together that night, so I didn’t know where she was.”

Cooper’s lawyer nodded, a slight smirk on his face as he continued. “So, you’re telling this court that you were so concerned about Ms Y/L/N, yet you weren’t with her when you knew she was there, and that she was drunk? Is that what you’re claiming?”

Rafe didn’t flinch, his tone calm, “Yes. We weren’t exactly on speaking terms at the time, I didn’t know where she was until I asked around.”

A brief, look of knowing passed between Cooper and his lawyer as he pressed on, his voice becoming more pointed. Rafe played with the signet ring on his finger,

“And you weren’t speaking to her because you had a falling out,” The lawyer’s tone suggested he was about to unearth something damaging,

Seriously?

“A rather public falling out, if I’m not mistaken?”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but he kept his composure. “Yes. We had a disagreement, but that doesn’t change what happened. I was still concerned when I couldn’t find her.”

The lawyer smirked, sensing an opening.

“Isn’t it true, Mr. Cameron, that you and Ms Y/L/N had a rather heated argument not long before that night? You called her- what was it… a ‘slut,’ if I recall correctly from what my client has told me?”

The room went still, the air thick with tension.

Oh

Rafe’s face remained expressionless, though the accusation hung in the air like a weight, he noticed the way Y/n tensed slightly in her chair next to Hale and he had to bite his tongue. However, that wasn’t what discomforted him the most, his eyes drifted behind the girl where her parents sat, and he could see the evident frown on her father’s face as he looked from his daughter to the boy. His eyes darted away quickly and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of shame wash over him. He cleared his throat slightly before continuing, 

“That was a private matter,” 

Rafe replied, his voice level, though there was a quiet firmness in his words. “It was a personal disagreement. It doesn’t change the fact that I was worried about her that night.”

Cooper’s lawyer pushed further, not letting up. “But surely that means you weren’t really that concerned, right? You couldn’t have been if you were still harboring such anger toward her, especially after you insulted her in such a way. Doesn’t that make your actions more about jealousy than concern for her well-being?”

What?

Rafe’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t let the lawyer’s words rattle him even though he hadn't expected this line of questioning.

“I was concerned about her because she was in trouble,” Rafe said slowly. “The argument had nothing to do with what happened, it was two months before halloween.”

The lawyer wasn’t done yet.

“But it could have, couldn’t it? Perhaps you were angry that she was with someone else, and that’s why you broke down the door and attacked Mr. Miller. Maybe you were just trying to play the hero because you were jealous that she wasn’t with you.”

Stop talking shit man

Rafe’s calm demeanor never wavered was he could feel the irritation crawling up the back of his neck,

 “I didn’t break down the door because I was jealous, I broke it down because I knew something was wrong. When I heard Y/n crying and couldn’t get her to respond, I was seriously worried. I wasn’t thinking about anything else.”

The lawyer raised his voice a little, pushing harder now, evidently thrown off by the fact that Rafe hadn’t lashed out at him yet. 

“Yet you didn’t even try to make sure the situation was under control. You didn’t stop to think- just barged in, without considering if you were making the situation worse.”

At this point, Hale stood up, her voice cutting through the uneasiness in the room.

“Objection, Your Honor,” she said, standing straight with a clear, authoritative tone. “This line of questioning is irrelevant to the case. The defense is speculating about Mr. Cameron’s emotions and intentions which are unnecessary.”

The judge looked over at Hale, his expression thoughtful as he considered her objection. After a brief pause, he nodded slightly.

“Objection sustained,” he said firmly. “Move on, Counsellor.”

About time

Cooper’s lawyer visibly bristled but, after a moment, turned back to Rafe with a more neutral expression.

“You said when you entered the room,” the lawyer pressed, “You found Mr. Miller standing over Ms Y/L/N, correct?”

Rafe’s voice was steady, though there was a subtle hardness to it now. “He was standing above her, acting like nothing had happened.”

The lawyer’s expression hardened, his eyes flickering toward the jury as he made his point. “So, you immediately assumed the worst, you didn’t consider that perhaps Ms Y/L/N had simply fallen and hurt herself?”

Yeah right, cause you think I'm blind?

Rafe’s gaze never left him as his eyes narrowed, “No. When I saw her, she was bleeding, her clothes were ripped. It was obvious he had hurt her, how could she have ripped her own clothes herself?”

The lawyer’s voice was now dripping with doubt, “So despite the fact that you had no clear evidence of any wrongdoing, you decided to take matters into your own hands and you physically attacked Mr. Miller?”

Are you even listening to me?

Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. “I didn’t attack him, I was protecting Y/n. I told him to get away from her, but he evidently wasn’t listening to me since he blocked my path, so I had to do what I needed to do to ensure Y/n was safe.”

“But he wasn’t physically attacking her at that moment Mr Cameron so why did you beat him to the brink of death,” the lawyer asked, leaning in. 

Rafe’s response was swift, his tone firm. “He didn’t need to be- I saw the blood, the bruising, and I knew she wasn’t okay, I wasn’t going to let him hurt her. What if I had left and he continued?”

There was a slight pause as the lawyer adjusted his stance, clearly trying to manipulate Rafe’s response.

“So, you’re saying you acted out of concern for Ms Y/L/N, but you didn’t have a clear understanding of what had happened, correct?” Rafe’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but his composure never cracked. 

“I knew what had happened. And I wasn’t going to let Cooper continue to sexually assault Y/n when I could have stopped it”

A murmur rose from the crowd watching, whispers of agreement arising causing the lawyer to give him one last, sharp look and his jaw tightened, but he gave a sharp nod, signalling the end of his questioning and he returned to his seat, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s unwavering calm.

Fuck you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cooper adjusted his suit cuffs as he approached the stand, every step slow and confident, clearly no hesitation in his movement. Y/n tensed slightly in her seat, keeping her eyes on the worn down wooden table in front of her, the surface clearly eroded over the years, gloss dull and matted. Rafe looked over at the girl, his hand moving out slowly and placing over hers which was resting on her knee, he squeezed her hand slightly in silent support, and her eyes flicker up from the table looking up at him. If they weren't in the situation they’ve found themselves in, Y/n would have taken more time to admire the boy sitting next to her, smartly clad in a black suit, grey tie neatly done up, white shirt pristine against his tanned skin. She could feel the coolness of his signet ring against her skin and the feeling grounded her for a second, her eyes met his and she gave him a small smile, which he returned. The bailiff stepped forward,

“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

“I do.”

Cooper’s voice was steady, calm, as though he’d dealt with situations like this many times before. Cooper’s lawyer rose, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Mr. Miller, thank you for being here today. I know this has been difficult for you.”

Cooper gave a practiced, somber nod as he spoke out, “Yes. It’s been… overwhelming. But I want to clear the air, if not for my own wellbeing but for those who are being affected personally why this disagreement.”

His tone was soft, measured as he spoke, hands clasped together, with a small nod of his head.

“Let’s start with the night in question. Can you explain to the court what happened between you and Miss Y/L/N?”

Cooper sighed quietly, eyes flicking briefly toward Y/N.

“I was at the party with Y/n and like everyone else I was drinking, having fun, and of course we were separated for a while. You know I have many other friends at the party so I left her to do her own thing. But then when I saw Y/N, she seemed pretty out of it, and much like any other normal person would be, I was concerned for her.”

A pause came in his words as he pushed his hair out of his face and continued,

“She was drunk, and I didn’t think it was safe for her to be alone, so I offered to help her find the bathroom and she agreed. She could barely stand, I mean when I was leading her up the stairs I almost had to carry her up myself. She was leaning on me so much, so that led me to infer she clearly wasn't in a stable state.”

Cooper leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just enough to sound sincere.

“We ended up in a bedroom with a bathroom attached. She wasn’t feeling well so I tried to get her somewhere quieter, the downstairs bathroom was so busy. She went in, and when she came out, I kissed her and she happily kissed me back.”

His eyes met the jury’s as he spoke, “I thought it was mutual... She never told me to stop. Not once.”

Liar

He let the words sink in as his lawyer prompted gently. “And then?” Cooper shook his head slowly.

“It started getting a little heated, sure but then, out of nowhere, she elbowed me in the stomach.”

His hand instinctively brushed his waist as if remembering before shaking his head as he continued strongly,

“I backed off immediately. I thought maybe she was more drunk than I realized and she was reacting violently, so I tried to help her up but then she tripped over her own feet fell, it must've been from those heels she was wearing. She hit her head and I panicked, to be honest  I didn’t know what to do.”

He looked down taking a moment before he spoke up again voice cracking slightly,

“I was trying to help her and then Rafe kicked down the door and attacked me for no reason, just started hitting me over and over. I thought I was going to die.”

Cooper’s lawyer gave a sympathetic nod as he looked at the teen asking, “Did you try to explain to Mr. Cameron what happened?”

“Yes of course I did, I told him she fell. That I was helping her but he wouldn’t listen to me. He wanted to believe I was hurting her, but I wasn’t. I swear to God, I wasn’t.”

The courtroom was silent as his lawyer let the words linger.

“Have you ever forced yourself on Ms Y/L/N or anyone else?”

Cooper’s eyes narrowed slightly, his face expressing disgust long enough for him to speak out,

“No. Never.”

You're such a fucking Liar

He sat perfectly still, letting the jury absorb his calm denial as his Lawyer shook his head with a small smile in his direction before turning towards his table and standing by his seat, “Thank you, Mr Miller. No further questions.” Cooper exhaled, sitting back in his seat as his eyes flicked toward Y/N, just for a second. She stared back at him, refusing to look away, and the boy's gaze hesitated, darting over her posture, evidently catching her close proximity with Rafe. Hale rose from her seat, a cold precision in her movements as she stepped forwards, voice clear and approaching with a quiet authority.

“Mr. Miller”

Cooper turned toward her, polite smile, his eyes looking the woman up and down, “Yes?”

“You’ve told this court that Ms Y/L/N never objected to your advances. That she never said no. Correct?”

Cooper nodded, keeping his expression neutral, “That’s right.”

Hale’s eyes sharpened, tilting her head slightly as she looked to the boy when she spoke,

“And yet, the rape kit performed the morning after the incident found bruising consistent with forceful restraint. Bruises on Ms Y/L/N’s wrists and thighs.”

She paused as she peered over to the jury, many member’s frowning as they listened to the woman's words, “Would you like to explain how she got those?”

Cooper’s jaw tightened, just slightly, as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his shoulders shrugging slightly.

“She was drunk, she might’ve fallen. Or maybe when she hit me I-”

“Oh, so now you’re suggesting you might’ve left those marks?”

A flicker of frustration crossed his face as he narrowed his eyes at her speaking out more forcefully now, “No, I’m saying she was drunk and unsteady. She could’ve bruised herself.”

Hale took a step closer towards the boy behind the witness stand as she crossed her arms again, “On both wrists and thighs?”

Cooper hesitated.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s convenient.”

“Objection,” Cooper’s lawyer snapped. “Argumentative.” Y/n mentally rolled her eyes at the man’s comment, of course he was going to object to Hale, she was proving to the jury that the boy sitting in front of them was nothing but a conniving manipulator. “Sustained. Move on, Ms. Hale.” The lawyer smoothed her blazer down before continuing, 

“Let’s talk about the door.”

Cooper blinked as he looked at her cluelessly, the questioning was going nothing like his lawyer had told him it would and Hale could tell from the boy's body language, he was now fully sitting up leaning forward as he spoke, arms resting on the witness stand.

“What about it?”

“The bedroom door was locked. From the inside.” 

Cooper hesitated as he looked at the woman before a confused expression slipped onto his face, “I don’t remember locking it, maybe Y/n did it or it got jammed closed, I didn’t lock it.”

The woman gave a nod, however she wasn't fooled by his petty excuse,

“Well considering you stated that my client was severely drunk as you led her up to the room, I doubt she would be capable of locking the door herself as that takes coordination which, from your recollection Mr Miller, she did not have. You said Rafe attacked you without reason but isn’t it true that when he tried to get to Y/N, you blocked him and told him to stay out of it?”

Cat got your tongue bitch?

Cooper’s expression darkened for a split second and Y/n could depict a flash of panic behind his eyes, “I told him she was fine I didn’t want him to overreact-”

“-Overreact?” Hale’s voice sharpened. “He found her bruised, barely conscious on the floor with you hovering above her helpless frame, I wouldn’t consider that ‘overreacting,’ would you?”

Cooper’s jaw tightened, as he watched the woman peer over to the jury, his eyes narrowed as he spat out,

“I didn’t hurt her.”

“Funny. You seem to remember everything else so clearly, but not that.”

Rafe peered over at Y/n, eyes lingering on her, taking note of her hand resting on the table, her finger picking at the skin on her thumb which had now turned an irritated pink, his brows drew down in concern as his hand reached out to push her finger away from her thumb, she looked up at his confused, eyes now drawn away from her hand. It was evident she was anxious, the boy didn't need to be genius to realise that, so he gestured over to Cooper with his eye’s, the girls following the boys gaze, her vision landing on the boy on the stand who now had a sour expression on his face, clearly displeased with the way Hale was persistently digging into him. 

“One more thing I’d like to draw attention to is Miss Y/L/N’s head injury. The medical report shows blunt force trauma consistent with her skull being slammed against a hard surface,” the women turned away from the jury and now directed her questioning to Cooper,

“did she ‘fall’ into the floor too?”

Cooper’s lips pressed into a thin line as he bit back at the woman, “She hit me first. I lost my balance, and we both went down.”

“So you’re saying you accidentally slammed her head into the ground?”

“That’s not what I—”

Hale stepped forward, cutting him off as she crossed her arms, “Tell me, Mr. Miller When Y/n tried to crawl to the door, did you help her up?”

“I- she wasn’t-”

“Or did you pull her back?”

“I didn’t-”

“Did you hit her head against the floor to keep her quiet?”

“No!”

The word echoed in the courtroom, Cooper’s face flushed as he slammed his hand down against the witness stand, Y/n jumped slightly at the sound.

Silence.

Hale leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a deadly calm.

“Then why did she have a concussion, Mr. Miller?”

Cooper’s throat worked to swallow as he hesitated, his eyes looking over to his own lawyer. Hale’s eyes locked onto his about to speak again yet she was cut off,

“You’re a lying son of a bitch!”  

What?

The words erupted from the back of the courtroom, sharp and venomous, slicing through the tense silence like a blade. Gasps rippled across the room as every head turned toward the source of the outburst. A man stood rigid, his face red with fury, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles blanched. Before the shock could fully settle, another voice snarled from Cooper’s side, colder, sharper. Y/N whipped her head around, following the sound of the man’s voice, and her eyes landed on the last person she expected to see- the captain from her family’s yacht. Surprise rippled through her chest, he’d always been a quiet, steady presence in her life, seeing him now, standing rigid with fury on her behalf, sent a strange mix of comfort washing over her.

“Shut the fuck up, Pogue!”  

Oh shit-

A man shot up from where he was sitting on the bench on the opposite side of the hall, shoulders squared, lips curled in a sneer. His voice carried like a threat, heavy with disdain, the insult cracking like a whip in the charged atmosphere, it was like striking a match in a dry forest.  

Voices broke out in overlapping shouts- some in protest, others in confusion. Chairs scraped at the back of the hall, where there hadn’t been enough benches for people to sit on, the polished floor being scratched as people shifted, some rising slightly, others leaning forward as if expecting the tension to snap into violence. Chaos swelled, voices stacking over one another, each second pulling the room further from order.  

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The gavel slammed down with heavy force, each strike louder than the last, commanding the room to heel.  

“Order!” the judge bellowed, his voice slicing clean through the noise.  

BANG. 

“ORDER IN THIS COURT!”  

The room recoiled as voices died mid-sentence and everyone’s movements stilled. The judge leaned forward, his glare sweeping across the courtroom, cold and unforgiving, “One more interruption, and I will not hesitate to clear this courtroom. Do I make myself clear?”  

The silence that followed was suffocating.  

The man on Cooper’s side slumped back into his seat, muttering under his breath, though his eyes still burned with quiet hostility. Across the aisle, the captain who had first shouted stood frozen for a moment longer, chest heaving, before slowly sinking back into his chair, his glare locked on Cooper with a hatred that didn’t need words. The air felt heavier now, weighted with unsaid threats and lingering tension, but the judge exhaled slowly, fingers flexing around the gavel.  Cooper, pale and rigid on the stand, didn’t dare look at anyone as the judge turned his attention back, his voice was low but firm,

“Mr. Miller Answer the question.”

Cooper’s lips barely moved.

“I- I don’t know.”

Yet no one believed him as Cooper sat frozen on the stand, his composed mask cracked, his palms pressed against the wood. As Y/n watched him, sitting in the spotlight, this was the first time she’d noticed that he didn’t look so confident. Hale didn’t need to say another word as she turned on her heel, returning to her seat. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The courtroom felt colder when Y/N was called to the stand.

Her name echoed through the silence, and for a heartbeat, she couldn’t move until Rafe’s hand brushed her arm briefly, a quiet reassurance and Hale gave her a small nod. The girl rose on shaky legs, feeling every set of eyes turn toward her. The floor seemed too far away, her heels too loud as she crossed the room, Each step felt heavier than the last she made her way to the daunting witness stand. As she sat down, the wooden chair hard and unyielding beneath her eyes flickered to Cooper for half a second. The boy leaned back in his chair slightly.

Fuck you

Hale rose smoothly, standing in front of the jury with a calm, composed presence.

“Y/N,” Hale’s voice softened, “I know this is difficult, but I need you to walk us through what happened that night. Please, tell the jury what you remember, every little detail helps.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

“I was at Matthew White’s house on halloween night for the party he was hosting, well there was a lot of drinking obviously, and after a while I-” She paused, clearing her throat slightly, “ um- I was really drunk so Cooper offered to help me… to the bathroom.”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt as her eyes darted around the room, everyone staring back at her, many expressionless, others with their eyebrows drawn down as they listened to her words.

“But he took me into a bedroom with a bathroom attached, and I thought that was odd but I didn’t say anything and I went into the bathroom by myself, and then, when I came out, he was there… waiting for me.”

Her throat tightened slightly as her nail started to scratch at the material of her skirt to distract herself as she spoke and she pushed forward.

“I was feeling dizzy when I came out so I went to sit down but Cooper sort of got in the way. Then next thing I know he’s kissing me. I didn’t stop him at first. I thought- I thought it was harmless...”

She heard a murmur arise from the crowd, and as she looked past Hale her eyes caught onto some people shaking their heads with disbelief, some of the people on Cooper's side of the court were rolling their eyes, causing her teeth to grind against each other. 

“But then it… it escalated and he started touching me more aggressively. And I- I told him to stop I— I was saying it, but it was like… like I wasn’t loud enough or he just wasn’t listening. I was… drunk, and it was hard to get the words out so I tried pushing him off, but he wouldn’t listen… to me.”

Keep it together Y/n

Her breath grew shaky and she could feel her bottom lip trembling so her hand tightened on the armrest of her seat.

“I started to panic so I hit him. I elbowed him and I tried to move when he let go of me, but I stumbled. I hit my head on something and I fell… I tried crawling to the door, but…”

Her voice broke, and she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

“…but he grabbed me. And he didn’t stop.”

The words barely made it out past her lips and for a moment she wondered if this was worth it. What if they didn't win the case, was she really ready to be humiliated in front of almost the whole island. Hale’s voice rang out in her ears and she realised she must have been standing there silently for longer than she thought,

“Are you okay to continue-”

“-Yes, uh sorry yes, so I was crying and I remember someone trying to open the door. And I was relieved but then, I realised it was locked, so I reacted upon instinct and I… Well I headbutted Cooper to get him off me and I thought I could crawl over to the door but- but he just- he slammed my head into the floor and then… it’s blurry. I think I blacked out momentarily.”

Her hands trembled in her lap.

Baby-

“The next thing I remember was Rafe in the room and Cooper was on the floor, and uh… Rafe was, he was hitting him. And I- I couldn’t move because my whole body was aching so I couldn’t- I couldn’t move.”

Her voice cracked, and she looked down avoiding the burning gaze of the boy who was staring at her angrily. Hale gave her a moment, then spoke softly.

“Thank you, Y/N. No further questions, Your Honor.”

Y/N barely breathed as Hale returned to her seat.

But the relief didn’t last as Cooper’s lawyer leaned over to the boy whispering something in his ear before he rose slowly, unbuttoning his blazer. His expression was calm, but there was something cold behind his eyes. He approached the stand with careful steps,

“Ms Y/L/N,” he began smoothly, “I want to make sure I understand. You willingly followed Mr. Miller into that bedroom, correct?”

Y/N’s lips pressed together.

“I… he said he was taking me to the bathroom.”

“And you didn’t object to going with him?”

Her jaw tensed.

“No.”

“You also said that when Mr. Miller kissed you, you didn’t stop him. In fact, you were okay with it at first?”

Her stomach twisted.

“Yes. But—”

He raised a hand casually.

“Just yes or no, please.”

Asshole

Her hands gripped the seat.

“Yes.”

“So at that point, things were consensual.”

“That’s not what I said!” 

A sharp silence cut through the room as she spoke out louder than expected, the lawyer paused, raising an eyebrow brow at her behaviour, clearly amused by the situation. Hale stood abruptly at the girl's distress.

“Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is badgering the witness.”

The judge barely acknowledged the woman's voice, focused on the papers he was reading, hand moving up to pull the wire rimmed glasses off his face as he looked up and spoke out to the lawyer before turning to the girl,

“Overruled. Watch your tone, Ms Y/L/N. Answer the question.”

Rafe watched the girl from his seat next to Hale, his hands clasped together on the table, leg nervously bouncing underneath it. Hale had told him he couldn't act out today, that if he did the chances of them winning the case would be minimal, so he sat there, silent, unmoving, his pulse thudding heavily in his ears as he watched the girl in front of him being scrutinized on her every word and action. She cleared her throat before she spoke up again,

“At first, yes. But when it got worse-”

“And you were intoxicated at this point, correct? Heavily intoxicated?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s fair to say your memory of what exactly was said or done might not be entirely clear?”

What?

Y/N’s throat burned.

“I remember saying no.”

“But you just admitted you were mumbling and not speaking clearly. Is it possible that Mr. Miller didn’t hear you?”

This isn't fair

Her heart hammered as the man pressed his questioning.

“I—No. He knew.”

“But you can’t say for certain what he heard, can you?”

Silence. What was she even meant to respond to? She sat there staring at him before mumbling out,

“No.”

The lawyer smiled faintly, turning toward the jury as he folded his arms and continued speaking.

“You also stated that you hit him first. That you initiated physical violence against him. Correct?”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly at the man's question, the judgemental mumble rising from the crowd once more. She looked over to Hale who was staring down at her paper writing something down ferociously, her gaze then drifted over to Rafe whose jaw was clenched tightly, brows filled down into a frown, he gave her a small shake of the head.

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“I hit him because he wouldn’t stop—”

“But you hit him. Yes or no?”

“This isn’t fair! I was defending myself!”

The lawyer’s lips curled slightly as he observed the girl lose her temper, he raised his hand stopping her protests as he spoke out.

“But you hit him first. Yes or no?”

Y/N’s mouth opened before it closed again, she breathes out heavily through her nose before she sighed out,

“Yes.”

He took a slow step back nodding his head to himself, from the corner of her eye she noticed one of the jury members leaning over, whispering something into the ear of the man sitting next to her causing him to nod in agreement. She felt a lump start to form in her throat.

“So, to summarize- you followed him willingly, kissed him willingly, didn’t clearly say no, and then physically attacked him. Isn’t that correct?”

“That’s not-”

“Yes or no?”

Her hand was trembling in her lap as her tongue darted out quickly to wet her lisp, her voice barely was barely audible as she spoke,

“Yes.”

The lawyer gave a small, satisfied nod, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he walked back towards the table, shuffling through his papers before placing them down. He leaned over to Cooper slightly mumbling something. For the moment that he had his back turned to her, she let out a shaky breath and her hand came up shakily to run over teh bridge of her nose. Her eyes looked up and caught Rafe’s, ‘Are you okay?’, the boy mouthed in her direction causing her to give him a slight nod.

No

Her attention was drawn back to Dune as he spoke to her once again, “If I remember correctly from what you stated for us in your testimony earlier, after my client ‘supposedly’ harmed you, you blacked out afterward. Does that sound right to you Ms Y/L/N?”

She looked at him expressionless, she refused to give Cooper the satisfaction of seeing her in this position, he was already staring at her, tapping his fingers against the table.

“For a moment.”

“So you can’t say for certain what Cooper was doing when Mr. Cameron entered the room?”

Her entire body froze.

“I know what he was doing, he- he was hurting me”

“But you can’t prove it, can you?”

"I-"

“Objection!” Hale’s voice cut through the air. “Argumentative.”

The judge shook his head slowly as he turned to the man, “Sustained, If you don't have more to say on the matter Mr. Dune move on.” The lawyer’s gaze was steady as he looked to Y/n with a smile, nothing but sarcastic and forced, 

 “No further questions, Your Honour.”

Y/N sat frozen, the blood roaring in her ears as Cooper’s lawyer returned to his seat, composed and calm. Her eyes drifted over to the boy sitting next to him, now sitting back comfortably in his seat, a ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The air in the courtroom felt thick, suffocating, as Y/N slowly made her way back to her seat next to Rafe. Her legs felt unsteady, as though they might give way beneath her at any moment. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her head spinning from the brutal questioning and the weight of reliving that night. The boy’s eyes didn’t leave her as she sat down, his gaze sharp and concerned. He could see the way she was trembling, her fingers clenched tightly on the edge of the chair, her breaths uneven. His jaw tightened with a protective instinct he couldn’t suppress. Cooper’s lawyer was now droning on, continuing his cross-examination of some irrelevant point, but Rafe wasn’t paying attention. He leaned closer to her, his voice low enough not to interrupt the court, but with an edge of urgency. 

“...are you okay?”

Y/N flinched slightly, not expecting him to speak so close, but when she met his eyes, her facade crumbled. Before she got out of the car outside the courthouse she told herself she wouldn’t break down in front of everyone, she refused to do so, it was humiliating, embarrassing, shameful, but now she didn’t have the strength to hold it in anymore

“I… I can’t breathe” 

Shit

She whispered, her voice barely audible. The words hung in the air, and Rafe’s heart clenched as he took in her slightly trembling frame. Before she could say more, he immediately sat up straighter, his hand moving to her arm, his fingers brushing against her skin in a silent gesture of comfort, but it was clear she was struggling to keep her composure. He glanced at Hale, who was sitting just a few feet away, her eyes fixed on the proceedings. 

“Hale,” he murmured urgently, leaning in.

“We need a break. Now.”

Hale looked at him, taking in the concern written all over his face, she didn’t hesitate for a second as her gaze drifted over to the girl’s hands, now situated in her lap, gripping at the material of her skirt. Hale stood up swiftly, cutting through the Dune’s long-winded explanation, her voice rang clear and commanding.

“Your Honour, we request a brief recess. My client is clearly in distress.”

The judge, who had been watching closely, raised an eyebrow. He had noticed the way Y/N was reacting, her flushed face and rapid breathing, he let out a hum, looking over to the clock situated on the wall and gave a small nod.

“Very well,” the judge said, his voice carrying authority. “We’ll take a short recess.”

The bailiff slammed the gavel down, and a murmur of surprise rippled through the room as the court was officially adjourned for the break.

Get me out of here-

Y/N didn’t wait for anyone to speak to her. As soon as the gavel hit, she stood up quickly, her knees unsteady as she jerkily pushed the chair away from the table, and without saying a word, she rushed towards the doors. The eyes of the entire courtroom were on her as she made her way out, her steps hurried as the clicks of her heels were heard bounding against the wooden floor.

Rafe was already on his feet, his hand on his chair as he followed after her mumbling out a small ‘sorry’ under his breath to Hale, moving quickly but quietly followed in the girl's steps. 

The aisle to the exit of the courtroom felt endless as she rushed down it, desperate to escape the feeling of being trapped inside its walls. The noise from the courtroom still echoed in her mind, but it was the tightness in her chest that terrified her the most. She felt like she was suffocating.

“Y/N!” 

Rafe’s voice cut through the distance as he caught up with her. She pushed through the heavy courtroom doors, she didn’t look back, the weight of everything pressing down on her with every step. The sound of her heels hitting against the cement of the steps reverberated in her ears, her hands coming up to push her hair out of her face as she walked, suddenly pulling her blazer off her body, feeling claustrophobic. Rafe’s hand reached out gently to touch her arm, she stopped but didn’t turn to face him. He could see her shoulders trembling, and the strong grip she had on her blazer which was now crumpled in her hand. Rafe kept his voice low, calm, 

“You’re okay. Just breathe, Y/N. Please…”

But she didn’t respond, the sobs choking her before she could form any words. Her face was instantly covered by her palms, her hands shaking, as she tried to hide herself, overcome by shame. Rafe’s chest tightened with the need to comfort her, to fix this, but there was nothing he could do but hold her steady.

“Y/N, look at me,” 

He urged gently, but she still wouldn’t face him so he stepped closer, his hands resting on her shoulders as he turned her toward him. His voice softened even more, a quiet command.

 “Y/N, need you to breathe for me.”

I can't-

Her ragged breaths began to slow ever so slightly, but they didn't disappear as she leaned into him, her face buried against his chest. The moment felt fragile, as though she might break apart at any second.

“Just breathe,” 

Rafe repeated, holding her close, his fingers gently running over her back, he didn’t care who was watching; although there was no-one outside, Shoupe had clearly kept the crowd inside to provide the two with some privacy. He let his hold on her drop slightly as she pulled back taking in a shaky breath, fingers trying to carefully wipe at the tears which clung to her lower lashes, careful not to smudge anymore of her mascara, but her crying wasn’t making it any easier for her.

Y/N took a few steps back and leant against the wall, before she slowly moved down the cold brick now slumped, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if she were trying to hold herself together. The coldness of the courthouse walls did nothing to ease the anxiety and anger coursing through her, heating her skin. Her breath was still wavering, shaky sobs escaping from her as her mind continued to replay the questioning, over analysing every moment. Rafe didn’t hesitate as he crouched down beside her, his gaze soft as he leaned back against the wall, mirroring her position, close enough to feel the tension in her body, but careful not to crowd her.

“I know. I know, angel” 

He said quietly, his voice deep and soothing. His fingers brushed over the back of her hand, a grounding touch as she continued to tremble. 

“It’s okay.”

Her eyes stayed down, her breathing still shallow, but the words she spoke next made his heart twist in his chest, her voice barely passing her lips,

“I don’t even care about any of this anymore,” Y/N whispered, her voice hoarse and cracked. She swallowed, the words coming out in a pained, broken rush. 

“I don’t care about me, I just… I don’t want you to go to jail, Rafe. I don’t want you to pay for something I… I know you didn’t do.”

Rafe’s heart ached at her words. She was thinking about him- about his future- when she should have been able to focus on her own, her own healing. It wasn’t fair. But that was who she was: selfless, through all the years he’d known her, her loyalty for their friendship never wavered, and if it did it was his fault. He gently took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly and he met her gaze, his expression soft but resolute.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low but clear. “This isn’t your fault, none of this is your fault-”

Yes it is

Her eyes welled with more tears, and she shook her head, feeling lost in the depth of her emotions,

“But I’m the one who-”

“-No” 

He interrupted gently, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. “It’s not your fault, and I’m not going anywhere okay? You did a great job in there, such a good job angel.”

She let out a shaky breath, the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat. But her gaze softened slightly as she looked at him, the boy sending her a comforting smile. Rafe didn’t try to say anything more. He just stayed there, leaning against the wall beside her, 

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the moment, and Rafe was the first to rise, offering his hand to her, Y/N hesitated for a second but took it, letting him help her to her feet. Her shoulders were slumped, her expression drained, and he could tell she’d had enough. He slowly raised his hand and wiped his thumb against the skin on her cheek, her eyes fluttering closed at the touch. He carefully rubbed off the black smudges on her skin and took the blazer from her hands, holding it out for her to put on. She slipped her arms into the material, Rafe smoothing it out on her shoulders before she tuned to face him, eyes meeting his. She licked her lips slightly as she paused.

Tell him

“Rafe I-”

“You kids ready?”

Her head turned towards the voice, Shoupe standing there looking back at them, hands on his hips. She let out a breath as she gave him a small nod, Rafe’s hand giving hers a firm squeeze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The courtroom was tense, every eye focused on the exchange between the defense and prosecution. Cooper’s lawyer stood at his table, flipping through a file with a grim expression. Hale, on the other side, was calm but visibly firm, her eyes locked on Dune, she was getting ready for a showdown, and both of them knew it from the way he was hastily flickering through his papers. Dune stood up, his voice clear as he addressed the judge.

“Your Honor, we’ve seen the rape kit evidence presented, but it’s crucial to point out that it’s inconclusive. There are no definitive signs of trauma that directly link my client to any kind of assault. The defendant,” he glanced at Y/N, “was heavily intoxicated that night, and I would argue that her memory of events is unreliable.”

Hale’s eyes narrowed, her voice rising slightly as she stood to respond to the man's statement.

“Objection, Your Honor,” 

She didn’t wait for the judge to respond, instead taking a step forward. 

“The defense is attempting to discredit the evidence without offering any substantive counterarguments. The rape kit- though it may not provide a perfect picture- does show evidence of physical harm consistent with sexual assault, and the presence of trauma in her nasal cavity and forehead which is not something that can be easily dismissed.”

Dune snapped his head toward Hale.

“Your Honor, this is a speculative statement,” he said sharply, his voice rising in frustration. “We are talking about a piece of evidence that- at best- only suggests a mild injury. The victim was intoxicated, and her memory is so compromised that she cannot even accurately describe the events leading up to what happened. I challenge the prosecution to explain why this should be considered definitive proof of an assault!”

The tension in the room was palpable. The judge, who had been quietly listening, gave an almost imperceptible sigh, then raised his gavel, cutting off the lawyer's angry rambling.

“Order!” The judge’s voice rang out,

“Mr. Dune, you will refrain from speaking over opposing counsel. We will proceed with the evidence, and I expect you to stick to the facts.”

The room fell silent. Y/N’s breath hitched, her hand gripping Rafe’s before pulling away as she notices Cooper’s harsh glare at her.  Hale’s tone remained calm but sharp as she turned to the judge. 

“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, I’d like to clarify the importance of this evidence. The rape kit may not be a perfect diagnosis, but it is highly suggestive of the victim’s physical condition at the time of the assault. And contrary to the defense’s argument, that is something we cannot overlook.”

Mr. Dune’s voice snapped back.

“The kit also fails to find any traces of my client’s DNA, Your Honor. In fact, the absence of such evidence only strengthens our case. It suggests that whatever happened between Ms. Y/N and my client was nothing more than a misunderstanding, possibly fueled by intoxication and poor judgment.”

The man’s words seemed to clearly frustrate the woman as she stood up straighter, her eyes never leaving the defense attorney as she leaned in, her voice piercing. 

“Your Honor, Mr. Dune is conveniently ignoring the fact that the victim was unconscious for a period of time and unable to resist. She was completely vulnerable to whatever actions Mr. Cooper chose to take. The lack of DNA evidence does not disprove anything. In fact, it could indicate that Cooper was being careful, possibly because he knew what he was doing was wrong-”

The room fell into a stunned silence, the weight of Hale’s words hanging heavily in the air but Dune, clearly taken aback by the force of Hale’s argument, wasn’t backing down. 

“-objection, Your Honor,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s pure speculation. Just because something is ‘suggestive’ doesn’t make it fact. We cannot convict a man on ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybe’s-’”

At this, the judge slammed his gavel down, his voice booming.

“Enough!” 

The room instantly quieted. “This is a courtroom, not a battle of egos. Respect the process and refrain from making assumptions.”

With a final, lingering glare at Dune, the judge turned his attention back to the court.

The tension simmered as the argument subsided, and both lawyers reluctantly returned to their seats. But the impact of their verbal clash had set the courtroom on edge. Y/N, looked at Rafe, who gave her a reassuring nod. 

After the outburst the courtroom gradually settled into a thick, suffocating silence. Y/N and Rafe shifted their seats, as well as Cooper who was now significantly more on edge then when the trial began. She sat stiffly, gripping the edge of the table as if it could anchor her in place. Rafe watched her carefully as Hale, composed but tense, sifted through her notes with a sharp glance toward the defence table. Dune rose, straightening his tie with deliberate ease.  

“Your Honour,” he began, his voice smooth, almost oily, “the defence would like to introduce a recently obtained piece of evidence, crucial to understanding the nature of the relationship between Ms. Y/L/N and my client.”  

Hale’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing.  

What?

What?

“Objection, Your Honour! This evidence was not submitted during discovery. The prosecution was given no notice of this.”  

The judge’s eyes sharpened. “Approach the bench.”  

Both lawyers strode forward, their voices low but charged with tension. Dunne leaned in, explaining that the video had only recently surfaced and was essential for the jury’s understanding. Hale’s rebuttal was swift and fierce, challenging its credibility and timing but the judge, after a brief pause, sighed out, 

“Proceed, Mr. Dune.”  

A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face as he turned smoothly back to the courtroom, “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’d direct your attention to the screen.”  

The grainy footage began to play on the small screen. The image jerked as if filmed on a shaky phone, the party’s noise buzzed faintly in the background. Y/N appeared on the screen, laughing in her matching costume beside Cooper. His hand rested casually on her waist. She didn’t pull away, leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder.

A ripple of whispers spread through the gallery like a slow-burning fuse.  

Y/N’s stomach dropped. 

No, no, no, no-

The air around her thickened as if the walls were closing in. The video felt like a cold hand pressing against her throat, squeezing, she tightened her grip on the table, her knuckles pale as she felt everyone’s eyes on her.  

Dune’s voice rang out, slicing through the murmurs.  

“I ask the jury to take a close look. This is not a girl in distress, this is very clearly not fear, Ms. Y/L/N chose to spend time with my client and from their body language it is apparent they enjoyed each other's company. They wore coordinated costumes, as far as I am aware you don’t do that with someone you don’t like. This isn’t coercion- this is consent.”  

The murmurs swelled, small gasps punctuating the air.  

“That’s not how it was,” Y/N whispered under her breath, barely audible as she shook her head turning to Rafe, “this was- this was before it happened.”  

Rafe leaned in slightly, voice low and steady, “They’re twisting it,” he murmured in her ear “don’t let them get in your head.”  

Across the room, Hale spoke out abruptly, “Objection, Your Honour! This footage lacks context and is intentionally prejudicial.”  

Dunne spread his hands in mock innocence as he turned to the lawyer, a smug expression now plastered onto his face, “Context? The footage speaks for itself, Ms. Hale.”  

The judge’s expression darkened, but he waved a dismissive hand, turning to Cooper’s lawyer, “Overruled Ms. Hale. Continue.”  

Dunne, a thin smirk tugging at his mouth, turned back to Y/N as he took a few steps towards the table where she was sat with Rafe.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” he said, voice smooth but coiled with intent, “you willingly left the party and went upstairs with my client, didn’t you?”  

Y/N swallowed hard, her voice barely steady as she shook her head at him, “I was drunk… I thought he was helping me.”  

“But you did leave with him,” Dunne pressed, stepping forward once more, “you didn’t call for help when he led you up the stairs, you didn’t scream. Isn’t that true?”  

Stop Stop Sto-

Rafe’s jaw was clenched as he felt the girls panic next to him, gruffly speaking out, 

“She’s just told yo-”

“I’m not speaking to you Mr Cameron.” 

Dune shot back coldly as he ignored the boy, not even bothering to look at him as he spoke. Rafe’s brows drew down into an immediate frown, his mouth opening again to speak out but was cut off by Hale’s voice.

“Objection! Badgering the witness!”  

The judge didn’t blink as he leant forward in his seat, clearly interested in the unraveling scene,  

“Overruled. Proceed.”  

Dune’s grin tightened as he turned back to the girl, hand gesturing out to her and then Cooper as he spoke,

“And these matching costumes- whose idea were they? Yours, or my client’s?”  

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Her mind scrambled as she struggled to respond, “It—it wasn’t like that,” she stammered. Dunne’s tone sharpened, slicing through the still air.  

“Answer the question.” 

“Watch your tone man.” 

Rafe barked out next to the girl standing up protectively, when he noticed her eyes had glossed over with tears again. The courtroom felt as though it might snap from the tension, everyone in the room eagerly awaiting what would happen next. Everyone had been surprised that Rafe had managed to keep his calm for so long, but his composure was slowly crumbling. Jurors exchanged uneasy glances as the boy stood, angrily staring up at Dune. Hale had shot him a warning look causing this to let out a frustrated huff and sit back down. Y/N’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Across the room, she could feel Cooper’s smirk like a knife in her skin. Dune leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a condescending murmur,

“Come on, Ms. Y/L/N, let’s not dance around this. You weren’t exactly pushing him away, were you?”

Is he allowed to do this?

Y/N’s eyes snapped up, locking onto his. Her grip on the edge of the table tightened as her voice trembled but sharpened at the end.

“That’s not true.” 

“Not true?”

Dunne’s smirk didn’t falter, as he paced slowly, making a show of thinking, “You willingly followed him upstairs and you kissed him back. So tell me, Ms. Y/L/N- how exactly is that not true?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears as she hissed, louder now, “I told him to stop”

Dunne didn’t back down.

“Oh? Did you? Or is that just what you’re telling yourself now to make sense of your regret?”

When I fucking get my hands on you you smug piece of-

The words sliced through the air and Y/N’s face flushed hot. She leaned forward slightly, her voice cracking under the strain, “I said stop. I fought him because he wouldn't do so.”

Dunne’s smirk widened, smug and venomous as he pushed the conversation further,

“Really? Because it seems to me, Ms. Y/L/N, that you only changed your mind after your boyfriend showed up.”

Something inside Y/N snapped at the man’s words and found herself shouting out angrily, her voice echoing through the courtroom.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

A shocked murmur rippled through the gallery at her reaction, many members of the jury raising their brows, eyes darting down to their notes, pencils scribbling against the paper. Dune straightened, unfazed but clearly pleased. 

“Oh, struck a nerve, have I? My mistake. Ex-boyfriend then?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she responded, “That doesn’t change what happened.”

Dunne’s tone turned icy, “Doesn’t it? Sounds like a lovers’ quarrel spiraled out of control-”

“Objection!” Hale’s voice shot through the air. “He is very clearly badgering the witness!” The judge raised a hand to silence her but before he could speak, Y/N cut through the noise, trembling with fury.

“You’re twisting everything.”

She spoke out fury evident in her tone, her voice shaking but loud.

“You’re a liar- just like him!” 

Y/N’s chest heaved, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Dune only smirked, adjusting his tie as if nothing had happened. The judge leaned forward,  

“Mr. Dune, that is enough”

Dune turned back to Y/N, his tone smooth and controlled, “Of course, Your Honor.”

But the damage was done, the girl’s outburst hung in the air, and the jury couldn’t unhear the crack in her composure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Every pair of eyes is glued to the jury foreman, waiting for the decision that will reverberate through this entire room. Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her throat, a frantic pulse that’s almost too loud, drowning out everything else. Rafe sits beside her, his presence solid and unwavering but she can feel the tension radiating from him, the barely-contained fury in every muscle of his body. His jaw is tight, the tendons in his neck straining as if he’s holding onto something just barely within his control. His hand is close- so close- that if she reaches out, just a little, her fingers might brush against his skin again. She couldn’t help herself- she needed to ask, needed to hear something from him, even if it was just a faint whisper in the chaos of everyone else’s conversations in the court, 

"Do you think they’ll believe us?" 

Her voice trembled slightly, barely audible above the stillness of the room, her eyes searching his face for any sign of reassurance. Rafe didn’t look at her at first, his gaze fixed on the jury foreman as he shifted, preparing to speak. His fingers twitched, his hand inching closer to hers, it wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to know he’s registered her words.

"They can’t ignore what they saw." 

He said quietly, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions surrounding him. Y/N’s chest constricted, her breath shaky as the words lingered between them. She wanted to believe him. She needed to. But doubt still gnawed at her, a silent whisper in the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite shake.

"What if they don’t?" 

The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it, her voice a plea for comfort. Rafe finally turned his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment but the look in his gaze wasn’t filled with certainty. He leaned in just slightly, his voice low so only she could hear.

"Then we’ll find another way alright?"

For a moment, everything else in the room faded into the background. The chaos, the noise, the tension- all of it seemed to dissolve in the weight of his words. As the room fell silent again, the tension thickening, they both held onto that promise, like a quiet understanding between them. The foreman stood, the chair scraping against the cold floor like a whisper from the depths of hell. She catches his eye, and he sent her a small smile, and for a moment she feels relieved at his warmth. 

He clears his throat, the noise sharp in the otherwise still room. 

"We, the jury, find the defendant, Cooper Miller, not guilty on all charges."

Her vision blurs for a moment, everything spinning. 

-what?

Fuck

The room fractures, its very foundation shattering under the strain of the verdict. On Cooper’s side, relief ripples through the crowd- murmured sighs, quiet clapping, the soft rustling of people shifting in their seats. Their smugness is palpable, every movement a reminder of the victory they’ve claimed.

The room fractures, its very foundation shattering under the strain of the verdict. On Cooper’s side, relief ripples through the crowd- murmured sighs, clapping, the soft rustling of people shifting in their seats. Their smugness is palpable, every movement a reminder of the victory they’ve claimed. Y/N can practically feel the weight of their self-satisfaction pressing down on her, suffocating her.

However behind her, disbelief spreads like wildfire through the crowd. Gasps cut through the air, followed by angry murmurs and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor at the back of the court room as people began to rise, fists clenched in protest. A woman near the back of the room shouts, her voice raw with fury.

"This is a joke!"

Her words hang in the air, poisonous, cutting through the tension like a knife. Yet this time Y/n couldn’t bring herself to turn around and see who it was. It’s like a spark in a haystack, and the fire quickly spreads. Another voice, joins in, rising from angry protests,

"You can’t just let him walk free, he’s a fucking criminal!"

She could tell whose voice it was, the blonde Pogue boy’s tone was infuriated as Kiara had to pull him back from one of the Kooks’ on the other side who was now squaring up to him. The room erupts, people are on their feet, shouting, arguing, gesturing wildly. The anger is palpable, a volatile mix of disbelief and outrage. The once orderly silence of the courtroom now a chaotic, swirling mess of voices, each more desperate than the last.

"ORDER! Order in this courtroom!"

But the noise only grows louder. A few people in the gallery shout even louder, their voices rising against the judge’s command.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!"

The room falls into stunned silence, but the tension lingers in the air, thick and heavy. 

Y/N’s chest tightens as though someone’s wrapped a vice around her ribs. It feels like she can’t breathe, as though the space between them is closing in, suffocating her. She forces her gaze back to Rafe, her heart aching as she tries to gauge what he’s feeling. But his expression is unreadable- his face set like stone, his jaw clenched tight, every muscle in his body drawn taut with the weight of everything hanging in the balance.

She can feel the raw, seething anger radiating off him. It pulses in the air, but what terrifies her most is how controlled he is. How silent. He’s standing tall, but every inch of him is coiled, ready to snap. 

Her eyes flicker around and find Cooper’s across the courtroom. His smirk is slow and deliberate- an unsettling mix of arrogance and triumph. He adjusts his cufflinks, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on her. There’s a challenge there, an almost cruel satisfaction in the way he watches her. Y/N’s heart hammers in her chest, but she doesn’t break eye contact. She can’t. The way he’s looking at her- like he’s waiting for her to crumble, to fall apart in front of him- it stirs something in her. 

Anger? 

Fear? 

She isn’t sure. All she knows is that she won’t give him the satisfaction.

Rafe’s gaze flickers toward her for a split second, the smallest movement. There’s something in his eyes that softens, just for a moment, before the storm picks up again. He shifts his position, edging closer, his body angling toward hers subconsciously. The small, tender gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by her and it makes the ache in her chest worse. Before she can process the moment, the judge’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife,

"Now, regarding the matter of aggravated assault- Mr. Cameron, stand."

Y/N watches as Rafe stands, every line of his body taut with tension. His posture is so stiff, his shoulders squared, she knows him well enough to see that he’s holding it together by a thread. His eyes stay forward, focused, but there’s an undercurrent of something raw, beneath the calm surface.

Her throat tightens as she watches him, and for the briefest of moments, she feels an overwhelming urge to reach out- to grab his hand, to make sure he knows she’s there, that she’s not going anywhere. But the space between them is too vast, too fragile.

This is my fault 

"Given the severity of the assault and the circumstances, this court sentences you to two years of probation, mandatory anger management classes, and community service. Any violation will result in immediate incarceration. Do you understand?"

Rafe doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t blink. He simply answers, his voice steady, devoid of any emotion.

"I understand."

Y/N swallows hard. It’s not a prison. It’s not the worst-case scenario. But it feels like a punishment all the same. His voice, though calm, rings in her ears. She doesn’t know if she can stand it- he’s been given a sentence that will follow him everywhere, haunting him like a shadow. But he doesn't react, doesn't show the crack in his armour. 

Not even a flicker of emotion.

Then, she feels it. A shift. Cooper leans back in his seat, that smug look still on his face, but now his gaze turns toward Rafe. It’s a brief look, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough. Rafe’s eyes snap to him in return, the moment stretching like a taut wire ready to snap. Cooper’s smirk widens, and Y/N feels her heart rate pick up, there’s something in the way Cooper looks at Rafe- a silent dare, a challenge. 

A threat, maybe.

She can feel the tension crackling between them, Cooper’s lips curl into a mocking smile, but Rafe, he doesn’t flinch. His expression is harder now, something fierce burning behind his eyes. He stares back at Cooper, daring him to make the next move, daring him to cross that invisible line that’s drawn between them.

"Court is adjourned."

The gavel slams down, but the noise is almost drowned out by the pounding of Y/N’s heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616 @slut-4-gojo @louxmcl @stelleduarte @p0gue420 @maybanksgirl69 @godharryz

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Trust

main masterlist | the boys masterlist

summary: soldier boy doesn’t realize just how scared of him you truly are

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

rating: R for language, mature themes

word count: 5.2k

warnings: please read! language, mentions of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drugging, violence, forced purging (to prevent possible death), briefly mentioned nudity (not in a smutty way), much darker than anything i’ve published before

author’s note: this started out as a small idea but i got really carried away lol.

another note: sorry for kinda ghosting after uploading the last fic, my brain hates me 🙃 i can’t promise i won’t “disappear” again like immediately after uploading this so thank you in advance for any/all feedback/comments 💞💞

It was late at night (more like early morning) when you were arguing with Butcher at the door. 

“Don’t you dare leave me here alone with him!” you seethed.

“C’mon, love, the old cunt’s gonna be asleep the whole time I’m gone.”

Your teeth clenched at the idea of being alone in the house with Soldier Boy, but if Billy didn’t go now to “run an errand” he’d probably have to go later that day anyway.

“Fine,” you sighed. “But if ‘the old cunt’ lays a fucking finger on me I swear to god Butcher!”

“I’ll be back by nine.”

**

A loud knock on your door woke you up.

“Hey! Sweetheart!” Soldier Boy’s voice shouted from the other side. “You up?”

“I am now,” you mumbled to yourself angrily. 7:26 your clock read.

“I heard that,” Soldier Boy said. 

Shit, you thought. “What do you want?” 

“The stupid TV isn’t fuckin’ working, I need you to come and work your magic for me.”

You sighed. You couldn’t ignore him at this point, that’d most likely just anger him further. If he wanted to he’d just break down the door and drag you out to the living room.

“C’mon toots, don’t be a bitch about it,” he exclaimed.

“Screw you,” you mumbled.

“Hey!” Soldier Boy exclaimed. “What’d I just fuckin’ say!” He tried opening the door but you’d obviously locked it. 

“I-I’ll be out in a second,” you told him. 

“That’s more like it,” he mumbled back.

You quickly got out of bed (whole outfit still on, just in case Soldier Boy had tried something in the night) and hurried to the door before you opened it. There he stood, the strongest man alive. You gulped nervously as he didn’t move and stayed blocking your way out. 

He eyed you up and down obnoxiously, smirking at the sight and making your heart beat faster.

“Same outfit as last night, I see,” he said. 

“S-So?” you asked, trying to mask the pure fear this man instilled in you. “I just like these clothes, is all.” He didn’t say anything, just kept smirking at you. “You’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, too, you know!”

“So you have been checking me out.” He nodded a little, the smirk still on his face.

“Did you want me to help you with the TV or did you just wake me up to be a dick?”

“TV,” he grumbled, “but would it kill you to be polite once in a while?”

“Would it kill you to move out of the way so I can head downstairs?”

He furrowed his brows before he rolled his eyes and stepped to the side; “After you, princess,” he mocked. You left your bedroom and he followed you downstairs to where the perfectly functioning TV hung on the wall.

You hated the way Soldier Boy eyed you as you took the remote out from the cabinet beside the TV and turned it on.

“It seems to be working fine?” you said, wanting to take his attention off of your ass. “What were you trying to watch?”

“Uh…how bout you pick something for us?” he offered.

“Excuse me?” you practically scoffed.

“C’mon, sit down and watch with me,” he said. You turned around, expecting to see him sitting on the couch, but he was now standing about a yard away from you. “Butcher seems to be gone…” He took a step towards you. “We’ve got the whole house to ourselves…” Another step. “Why don’t we have some fun?” He reached out and lightly touched your cheek, traced down the side of your face, and tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes.

“Soldier Boy—”

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me,” he interrupted you. “I know your heart starts racing when I walk into a room, I know it beats even faster when I get close. I know you want me, don’t even try to fuckin’ deny it.”

“P-Please—”

“Oh, I like a woman who knows when to beg,” he chuckled lowly as he bent down to kiss you.

“Please don’t hurt me, please,” you said quickly, tears stinging your eyes as they threatened to fall. “I-I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you, I-I didn’t mean it! Please don’t kill me!”

“Kill you?” He stood up straight, pulling his hand up off your face and putting it up in defense. “Kill you?” There was a moment of silence as he intensely looked at your reaction to him getting so close. “You…You’re scared of me, aren’t you?”

You nodded slightly, worried you might upset him as his face fell. He seemed almost saddened by the fact you didn’t want him near you.

“But…I’m a hero,” he scoffed slightly. “Why would you be scared of me?”

“Please don’t take it personally,” you said. “Just let me set up the TV for you and go back to my room…please?”

“You’re fuckin’ terrified right now, aren’t you?” he asked and again you nodded, again he scoffed.

“Can you blame me?” you asked. “I-If I rub you the wrong way you could snap my neck like a chicken bone without breaking a sweat.”

“But I…” He continued looking at you with confusion that seemed to be laced with curiosity. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I know I get angry sometimes but I’d never hurt you?”

“You wouldn’t be the first hero to turn on me,” you told him quietly. Soldier Boy paused and thought about what to do next. He’d never been in a situation like this before; standing alone with someone who was genuinely scared of him, someone that didn’t trust a hero like himself.

“Just uh… Just turn on a movie and you can go,” he said before he took a seat on the couch. “Another one from my time, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” you said; a small, forced smile on your lips. You found a movie you thought he’d like and pressed play for him before tossing the remote on the couch and leaving.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he called out, making you stop in your tracks. “I’m sorry you don’t trust me, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you.”

“O-Okay, Soldier Boy,” you said before you hurried out of the room, up the stairs, and back into your room. “Billy Butcher I am going to fucking strangle you,” you mumbled to yourself.

**

“You’re up before noon,” Butcher remarked, seeing Soldier Boy in the living room. “And you got the TV workin’ on your own! Atta boy, gov’.”

“Actually, Y/n set it up for me,” Soldier Boy said.

Butcher sighed at that, “So, you’ve talked to her today then, huh?”

“Yeah, why?” the Supe asked before Butcher left to see you. 

He knocked lightly on your door before you opened it. 

“Hello—” Butcher started but a swift slap to the face shut him up pretty quickly.

“Fuck you, Butcher!”

“Did he hurt you?” Butcher asked, holding his cheek.

“No, but he almost fucking did, asshole! How dare you leave me alone with him like that!”

“Oh come off it! If you’re still in one piece then all’s well that ends well, am I right?” he said with a smirk and a shrug. 

“You ever do something like that again and I swear to god William!” You stared daggers at him.

“My ‘errand’ didn’t go as planned anyways, love,” he told you. “I’ve gotta figure out another way to find where they’re hiding Homelander.”

“Or whatever’s left of him,” you mumbled.

**

“Alright, I’m off,” Butcher announced, a full duffle bag in his hand as he headed to the door.

“What?” you exclaimed from the kitchen as you hurried to get between him and his destination. “What’re you talking about?”

“Everything okay?” Soldier Boy asked from the couch near the TV.

“Everything’s fine, gov’, you keep watching your movie,” Butcher said.

“Can I talk to you outside for a minute?” you asked Butcher, you didn’t want Soldier Boy to hear what you were about to say. 

“After you then, love,” Butcher obliged.

The second the door closed behind the two of you, you let him have it.

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me here alone with him again, I cannot fucking take it!”

“It’ll only be for a little while, you’ll be fine!” Butcher said.

“Then let me come with you!”

“What, and leave the cunt here alone? He’ll burn the house down trying to make himself a fuckin’ sandwich,” Butcher exclaimed. “He needs a fuckin’ babysitter and that’s you.”

“Why me? Why can’t you call Hughie? Or Frenchie? Or, better than all of us combined, Kimiko?” you asked.

“Hughie’s outta state, Frenchie and Kimiko are both knee-deep in shit sussing out another lead on Homelander’s whereabouts.”

You sighed heavily, you saw his point but the thought of being trapped again made your stomach hurt; “Please don’t leave me alone with him, Butcher. You know how much he fucking terrifies me, and you know exactly why.”

“I’m sorry I gotta do this to you, love, but you know he’s our only shot at killin’ Homelander once and fucking for all.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Only a day or two.”

You again conceded, against your better judgment, and let Butcher leave you with Soldier Boy.

“What was that all about?” the Supe asked when you walked back into the house and locked the door. 

You forced a smile; “Nothing, Soldier Boy,” you said, “dinner will be ready soon.”

You didn’t know Soldier Boy heard everything you and Butcher had said.

**

“Looks great, toots.” Soldier Boy walked up behind you in the kitchen, not missing the flinch you threw when he got a little too close. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

“You still that scared of me?” he asked, leaning on the counter and trying to get you to look up at him.

“If you can hear my heart, I’m sure you’ve got something that can smell my fear too.”

“I know I make your heart race, your breathing becomes slightly quicker when I get close, and I’ve noticed your pupils tend to change when you notice I’m next to you.”

“So why is my fear such a fuckin’ surprise, then?” you scoffed.

“I guess I didn’t realize it was fear making your heart race and your pupils dilate slightly.”

“What, you thought I was into you or something?” you asked half-heartedly before you looked over at him and realized that was exactly what he had thought. “Oh.”

“So, yeah, I was surprised when I realized you didn’t like havin’ me around,” he admitted. You almost felt guilty for a moment but it quickly disappeared as you remembered why you were scared of him in the first place. “Can you at least tell me why, though?” he asked as you shoveled his food onto a plate. “Why are you so scared of me? I get that I’m stronger than you but, no offense, isn’t Butcher too? Isn’t like… almost every man out there?”

“One, I trust Butcher. I’ve known him for years and he’s been nothing but good; he’s an asshole, sure, but he’s good when it counts. And two, I don’t spend time alone with ‘almost every man out there’ so that does not help your case at all.” You handed him the plate. “Here’s your food.”

“Thanks, dollface.” He took it from you and you started getting your own plate ready. He watched your every move and his brows knitted with confusion as he did so. 

“You can go sit down,” you told him. “You don’t need to watch me like a hawk.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just still tryin’ to figure you out I guess.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“You know I’m a hero, right? I’m a superhero, and I would never hurt you?”

“Look, no offense, but the last time I trusted a Supe it really didn’t turn out well and I’m not gonna let myself give you even an inch of trust because you are even stronger than the last guy.”

“What happened? What’d he do?” Soldier Boy asked and you didn’t respond. “C’mon, you owe me that much! I’ve been nothing but good to you, yet you’re treating me like I did whatever this other Supe did to you!”

“I don’t owe you shit, Soldier Boy,” you snapped and you could’ve sworn you saw genuine hurt flash over his features. “If you must know, it was The Deep. I trusted him, let him be good to me, and it all blew up in my face in the most awful way I could’ve imagined.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” He reached out to touch your shoulder but you flinched away from him.

“Please, don’t touch me. I get that you’re trying to be sweet or whatever but please don’t. It’s not doing what you think it’s doing, Soldier Boy.”

He nodded and backed away slightly.

“My name’s Ben,” he told you. You looked at him with a sense of shock. “My real name’s Ben, you don’t have to say ‘Soldier Boy’ all the time, you can just say ‘Ben’.”

“Okay, Ben, while we’re on the topic of names, you could ease up on the ‘toot’s and ‘doll’s and ‘dollface’s and ‘honey’s and ‘sweetheart’s you know. Or at the very least stick to one pet name.”

He smiled at your honesty, hoping it was a sign you might be scared of him just a tad less.

“Think I’ll just stick to callin’ you sweetheart, then,” he replied.

“Thank god, I was really starting to hate dolls.”

That made him laugh deeply before he walked to the table and took his seat.

Don’t you fucking dare, you thought to yourself when you felt a feeling of almost-not-absolute-fear-and-disgust wash over you for a split second. 

**

“Look, I’m sorry, but—”

“You’re sorry?” you scoffed into the phone. “Butcher get the fucking hell back here!”

“I can’t, I’ve gotta spend another night over here. Apparently—”

“I don’t give a rat's ass why you have to stay, I am begging you to please get back here now!” Tears were stinging your eyes as your voice cracked.

“I’m sorry—”

“If he does anything to me, anything at all, I’ll never fucking forgive you for leaving me alone with him, Butcher. You understand me, William? Never!”

“He’s not gonna hurt you,” Butcher sighed. “Just keep your distance and be nice to him. He does have a bit of a temper, maybe he just needs to relieve some tension…”

“That’s not funny!” You gritted your teeth as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. “When are you getting back here?”

“A few more days,” he replied. 

Before he said another word you hung up on him, furious that he thought it was okay to leave you alone with Soldier Boy.

Though the Supe was in his own room upstairs, he still heard every word you said. He’d never admit it, but his heart clenched at the thought of how scared you were right now. 

**

It had been over a week since you’d seen him when Butcher finally got back with some new information on Homelander’s location. He had a plan to find the exact coordinates and he wasn’t going to let his morals get in the way.

“Well, well, you clean up nice,” Butcher commented when you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. You were wearing a short royal blue dress with a deep v-neckline and almost no back, the silver heels and necklace tied the otherwise seemingly plain outfit together nicely. “If this stupid plan of yours gets me killed I’m gonna come back and haunt you for the rest of your fuckin’ life.”

“Wow,” Ben beamed when he walked out of his room and saw you standing in the hall with Butcher. “You look incredible, sweetheart.”

“I look like a damn hooker,” you said. 

“That’s the idea, love.” Butcher smirked.

**

A high-ranking Vought employee had been seen at a certain bar almost every night for the last two months and it was now your job to get him to trust you. If he trusted you enough, he would take you back to his place and you could find out any and all information he had on Homelander. 

The plan seemed simple enough, yet Ben seemed more anxious about the situation than you were. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” Soldier Boy asked when you were all seated in the van outside the bar.

“No, but if this helps us get Homelander then it’s safe enough,” you told him. 

“Besides, you’ll be in there with her,” Butcher reminded him. “And if you stay focused on keeping her safe, then I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

“How ‘bout we come up with a code word or something?” Ben suggested as he put in the earpiece Butcher handed him. 

“How about ‘Soldier Boy’?” you said, Ben shook his head.

“And what happens if you need to say ‘Soldier Boy’ but you don’t need help?” he countered.

“How about…Ben?” You smiled a little when he nodded.

“I’ll be listening closely to the whole conversation, if you say ‘Ben’ I’ll come and get you outta there.”

“Sounds good.” 

“Alright,” Butcher interrupted, “Soldier Boy keep me updated and if all goes well, Y/n, we won’t be seeing you again til later tonight.” He winked obnoxiously.

“If this guy genuinely tries to sleep with me I’ll break his fuckin’ nose,” you said flatly. “Info or no info, I ain’t letting him see me naked.”

**

Ben had gone in about a minute before you did and found a nice spot near where he knew you’d be sitting with the target. The second you walked in his eyes were glued. He stayed true to his word and listened to every word you and the target said.

“This seat taken, handsome?” you asked the man who then smirked at you. 

“It is now,” he said. “And what’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Goldie,” you lied as you took your seat. “What’s yours?”

“Steven. Let me buy you a drink?” he offered and called the bartender over when you nodded. 

“Vodka martini,” you ordered. “So Steven, what do you do for work?”

“I work for Vought,” he said and you faked an impressed look. 

“No way!” you gasped. “Oh my god, do you know The Seven?”

“I do,” he said with a nod, clearly full of himself. 

“That is so cool,” you continued stroking his ego. You nodded in thanks when the bartender handed you your drink and you took a sip. “I’ve never met someone so important!”

“You wanna know a secret?” he asked, you nodded enthusiastically. He leaned over so he could whisper into your ear; “I’m actually in The Deep’s close, personal circle.”

Your eyes went wide for a split second before you got a hold of yourself and whispered back; “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “I could introduce you if you’d like.” You pulled away from him slightly but still tried your best to keep yourself calm.

“Oh, that’s alright,” you shook your head, “I’m sure he’s too busy for little old me.”

“I’m never too busy.” The voice behind you made your whole body tense up and Ben could tell you were in trouble. You hadn’t said the code word though and he knew both you and Butcher would be mad if he screwed up the mission.

“Butcher,” Ben said into the intercom attached to his jacket, “Deep’s here.”

Butcher paused for a moment before he answered; “Don’t freak out. Y/n can handle herself and unless she says ‘Ben’ you don’t make a move, you understand Soldier Boy?”

“Understood,” he replied.

“You know,” The Deep said, still standing behind you, “I’ve had my eye on you since you walked in here, gorgeous.”

“Y-You have?” you asked, wondering if he recognized you or if your face just blurred together with all the other women he had assaulted. You took another sip of the drink in your hand and continued to keep a close eye on it to make sure it didn’t get spiked.

“I have,” he replied. “Now, why don’t you let my friend Steven here show you a nice time, then take you back to my place at Vought Tower?”

“S-Sounds good,” you trembled. “I-I’ll see you later tonight then, Deep.” You took another, smaller sip.

“Wonderful,” he said before he bent down and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Can’t wait to see this dress on my floor.” With that, he walked away and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Fish fucker’s left the building,” Ben told Butcher. “You gonna tail him or are we still focusing on Steven?”

“Stay focused on Steven, we can kill fish fucker another day,” Butcher said.

“So, you want another drink?” Steven asked you. “Or would you rather head over to the tower?”

“You know, I’d rather spend the night at your place, Steven.” You faked a sweet smile. 

“Really?” He raised a brow as a smirk returned to his face. “So, another drink, then?”

“How about I just let you take me home?” The moment you stood up you knew something was wrong. You instantly felt dizzy and sat back down. “Ben, help,” you whispered when you realized exactly what was happening. 

“Looks like we’re heading to the tower, Goldie,” Steven said. “Thanks as always, Pat.” He handed a couple hundreds to the bartender.

Ben came up behind Steven and pinned him against the bar with one hand, his other hand resting on the bar itself a few inches from where you were now slouched over.

“What the hell did you do to her, fuckface?” Ben seethed.

“I didn’t do anything! What’s your problem?” Steven yelled, drawing attention to the scene unfolding.

Ben took the back of the man’s head and brought it up half a foot before he slammed it back down onto the wood. 

“Tell me what you fuckin’ did or I’ll squish you like a bug,” Ben yelled as he applied more and more pressure to Steven’s head.

“Roofie!” Steven yelled. “Ask the bartender!”

“Ben don’t kill him,” Butcher told him through the earpiece. 

“He deserves to fuckin’ die, Butcher,” Ben replied.

“Yes he does but he still has information that we need. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill the bartender who spiked the fuckin’ drink!”

Ben looked up from gravely injured Steven and saw the bartender cowering in the corner.

“Ben,” you whispered and reached out to touch the hand he still had on the counter. “Ben get me outta here.” His angered expression slowly faded as he looked down into your hooded eyes. “Please?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Soldier Boy said before he quickly scooped you up in his arms and carefully kept your head resting on his shoulder. “Hey, barkeep,” he shouted and the man looked over at him. “Mark my words; no matter where you go or what you do I will find you and tear you limb from fucking limb for hurting her. Your days are fucking numbered.”

Ben hurried you out to the truck and sat you down on the seat next to his so you could lean on him if you wanted, or alternatively, you could lean against the window if you still didn’t want him touching you.

“Stay with her, I’m gonna go figure out how much they gave her and if we need to take her to the hospital,” Butcher told Soldier Boy before leaving.

“Ben,” you slurred, still barely able to open your eyes, “Ben what—what’d you do to me?”

“God fuckin’ damn it, Butcher,” he mumbled under his breath. He blamed Billy entirely for the operation going sideways and for you ending up in danger. “Fuck, you need to purge, sweetheart.” He positioned you so your head was hanging out the side door and stuck his fingers down your throat, ignoring your angered hits to his arms. “This is for your own good, stop fighting me.”

You hurled out the side door, Ben held onto you tightly and made sure you didn’t fall out or get hurt. 

“Please just let me go,” you whispered when he took his fingers out, satisfied with the amount of possibly deadly alcohol you were able to get out of your system.

“I know you’re scared right now, but I can’t let you go,” he told you. “I’m sorry.”

Butcher got back to the car pretty quickly, a worried expression on his face.

“How much did they give her?” Ben asked.

“Too fuckin’ much,” Butcher replied. “We’ve gotta make her puke it all up or she might not make it.”

**

You woke up on the couch to the sound of Butcher and Ben arguing in the kitchen, a splitting headache quickly made itself known when you opened your eyes fully.

“This is your fault, Butcher,” Soldier Boy yelled, “you and your stupid obsession to find Homelander. How dare you put her life at risk like that!”

“Hey I had the strongest man alive in there backing her up, so how the hell did you screw up so badly?”

There was a pause as you kept listing, a part of you was scared you’d start to hear punches being thrown.

Ben shook his head as he looked at his ‘boss’; “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? She’s been scared outta her fuckin’ mind and yet you just keep on pushin’ her and pushin’ her. And for what? To kill a Supe that’s probably dead already? You know Homelander ain’t a threat since I fuckin’ burned him, yet you still put someone you say you care about in danger.”

“‘Scared outta her fuckin’ mind’?” Butcher scoffed. “What’re you on about?”

“I know she’s terrified of me,” Ben admitted. “I know that you know she is, too. And yet you keep leaving her alone with me, why? Just to make her life worse? To make her feel less safe than she already does?”

“You sayin’ she’s got a reason to be scared of you, then?” Butcher asked. “Thought you were supposed to be some kinda hero?”

“Of course I’d never hurt her! But I’m still a Supe and I know you hate Supe’s. There’s no way in hell you trust me at all or you wouldn’t have her babysitting me every time you leave the fuckin’ house. What I don’t get is why you’re so comfortable leaving her here with the strongest man in the world when you think I’m a fucking monster.” Ben walked over to the fridge and took a bottled water out before he grabbed a cup and left the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly as he entered the living room. “I know you’re up, do you want some water?”

“What happened?” you asked as he squatted on the floor in front of the couch and made eye contact with you.  

“We can fill you in later, you should probably drink,” he said and held out the two items in his hands. “Would you rather the bottle or a cup?”

“Bottle’s fine,” you replied and you slowly sat up, putting a hand to your head before you took the water from him.

“You need some Aspirin or something?” he asked. 

“I’m sure Butcher ‘ll bring me some,” you said, making Ben’s brows furrow a little before he nodded with realization.

“You still don’t trust me much, do you?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled before beginning to drink the water. “What am I wearing, by the way?” you asked and gestured to the dirty, large black tee you had on over the blue dress.

“Oh, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously, “it was on the car floor, I think it’s Butcher’s. I put it on you when uh, when you were kinda out of it and… your boob might’ve kinda… popped outta your dress.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I didn't… like I didn’t look or anything, I just saw the shirt and immediately put it over you.”

“Sure.” You nodded before you continued downing the bottled water.

“I’ll go get Butcher to bring you some painkillers,” Ben said before leaving the room.

**

You’d just gotten out of the shower and put on a new set of clean clothes when Butcher stopped you in the hall.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Better,” you replied flatly, still pretty frustrated with him.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot,” he sighed, “I shoulda told Soldier Boy to get you hell outta there the second the fish fucker showed his ugly mug.”

“We needed intel on Homelander,” you reminded him. “My safety was just the price we had to pay.”

“And that was a fucked up currency for me to gamble with,” he said. “I’m sorry I’ve been so obsessed and I’m sorry for leaving you alone with Soldier Boy so much the past couple of weeks.”

You shrugged a little; “It’s no big deal.”

“I want you to know I’m done tryin’ to find Homelander.”

“Seriously?” Your eyes went wide and you furrowed your brows. 

“The cunt’s most likely down for the count anyway thanks to granny fucker downstairs and there are other Supes that are much bigger threats right now anyway. Like The Deep, for example, and the number of people he’s paying to help him get away with assaults like last night. I’ve been talking with Hughie and as it turns out, he’s already had his eye on a handful of other bartenders workin’ for fish dick.”

“So…what? You’re saying you’re gonna go back to your old job at Supe affairs and start hunting down these assholes in a more mentally-healthy way?” you asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

**

When you entered the living room you noticed Ben readjusting his position on the couch, as if to try and make himself appear less threatening.

“Hey,” you said quietly, a small smile on your lips as you sat down about two feet from him on the same couch.

“Hey,” he replied. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better.” You nodded. “You need help with the TV?” you asked, picking up the remote from where it sat on the coffee table in front of you.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. He watched you intently as you ‘worked your magic’ on the electronic contraption.

“I know I was completely at your mercy last night, Ben,” you said, focused on the TV and not looking over at him. “And I know you could’ve easily taken advantage of the fact I was out of it.”

“But I didn’t.”

“I know that, too.”

“But you still don’t trust me?”

“I want to,” you said. You reached out your left hand and gently placed it on his right one. He looked down at where your hands were touching and smiled softly. “I want to trust you, I just need time to get to know you.”

“You sayin’ you wanna get to know me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk before you nodded. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Soldier Boy broke the silence; “So, where do we go from here?”

“How about we watch something together?” you suggested. 

“That sounds great, sweetheart.”