#be prepared for there are gonna be 9 more chapters. . .

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 18

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

A/N: not gonna lie, i wrote & rewrote this chapter a bunch of times and i'm STILL not sure if i fuck with it completely. hopefully it doesn't suck too bad asjkdrnfjk happy reading (maybe)!!!!

For a couple of long seconds, Isla hears nothing but an insistent ringing in her ears. Every other thought eddies out of her head, the only thing running through her mind being oh, no and how the hell did they find out? Oh so slowly, panic begins to bloom in the middle of her chest and gradually spreads out as her gaze flickers between all of her friends, their hardened expressions suddenly making painful, horrible sense.

How did they find out? How did they find out?

Oh, God. She waited too long, didn’t she? Isla should have told them the truth when she had the chance, because no matter how they found out, she can’t deny it. Denying it now means she can never confess the truth without hurting them more, and her brain searches for the words she can’t find. The cardboard straps of the bag in her hand burns on her fingers, heart pounding like a drum.

“Um, how—” Her throat is hoarse, tight. “Where did—”

“Sarah got a picture,” Cleo says, her tone measured as brown eyes meet Isla’s green. “Of you and Rafe. Kissing. Courtesy of Topper.”

Isla’s heart falls to the pit of her stomach, eyes falling shut in a tense combination of disbelief and defeat. Fucking Topper. Anger brews, but it’s overpowered by the nerves that tighten every part of her. She and Rafe hadn’t been careful. Topper must have seen them in the hallway or something after they ran into him. Her heart is racing even as she wishes for it to calm down—as she wishes for Rafe to be here with her.

Oh, this isn’t how she wanted them to find out. God, when she finally felt like she was ready to tell them the truth, Topper fucking Thorton beats her to it and does it in the most uncouth and fucked up way. Maybe their reactions wouldn’t have been positive ones if Isla was the one to tell them, but at least they would have heard it from her and not from someone who is always looking for ways to hurt them in some way. The desire to punch Topper returns tenfold.

“Look,” Isla starts carefully, eyes opening as she looks at them all. “I was—I was going to tell you about us—”

“Us?” Kie repeats, eyes widening under furrowed eyebrows as she gapes at her. Kie’s arms are crossed, the tension rolling off of her in waves, making Isla’s throat work. “You guys are an us? Are you guys in a relationship?” Isla presses her lips together, and it’s an answer enough. Kie’s shoulders rise and fall, her expression akin to horror. “What the fuck, Isla?”

Suddenly, it was like everything Isla had practiced saying to her friends, all of her reasoning and explanation, vanished. She’s caught so off guard that she can’t remember anything that she planned on telling them, and is instead scrambling to find the right words to make this better, somehow. Even when a voice in the back of her head tells her no soothing word of any kind can soften this blow that has rocked all of her friends.

“It was—it sort of just happened,” she says desperately, forcing the words through her tightened throat as she rests the bag of books and flowers down by her feet. Some of them gape at her, some don’t even look at her. Isla’s palms grow clammy. “We kind of kept running into each other and, I don’t know, one thing led to another and—and—” She exhales roughly, her voice a little meek as she says, “He’s really not as bad as you think.”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope snaps, sitting up straight as he narrows his eyes. JJ tenses up. “Are you forgetting the amount of fights we’ve gotten into with him over the years? I’m pretty sure we all know exactly the kind of person he is.”

Isla tries not to flinch at Pope’s harsh tone and harsher words against her boyfriend. “But you guys haven’t noticed that he hasn’t started anything with you for a while now?” Isla tries helplessly, gaze flickering over them. John B’s jaw clenches as he looks away. “I mean, I know you’ve gotten into it with Topper and Kelce, but Rafe hasn’t gotten into it with you, right?”

She knows she’s right, but none of them agree with her. Kie scoffs, shaking her head as the incredulity remains on her face. “I cannot believe you’re defending him right now. He’s an asshole, Isla!”

“Stop calling him that,” Isla snaps before she can help it, but she doesn’t regret defending him, even when Kie pulls back slightly, blinking in surprise. Isla meets her gaze steadily, chest tightening at the betrayal that flashes across her sister’s face. Swallowing, Isla looks at the girl sitting on the couch. “Sarah, come on. He’s your brother.” Sarah’s gaze flickers, meeting Isla’s, and Isla sees the conflict waging war in her friend’s eyes. “I-I know you’ve seen the change in him, too. He’s different now. He’s different with me—”

“How long?” Isla cuts off at the sound of JJ speaking for the first time, her shoulders tensing as she turns her head to the right to look at him. He turns his own head, ever so slightly, to meet her gaze, and Isla’s heart stops. JJ’s blue eyes have never looked so icy. “How long have you two been together?”

Isla’s heart thunders. Her body feels the weight of everyone’s gazes. She looks to the floor ahead of her, her voice a whisper as she answers, “Two months.”

Someone sucks in a sharp breath in the deathly still silence following Isla’s revelation. She lifts her gaze, forcing herself to look at her friends because she isn’t ashamed of her relationship, even if she is worried about their reactions. John B lets out a rough breath, a sardonic chuckle as he drolls, “Wow.”

Isla takes in a breath. “Look, I’m sorry that you guys found out this way—”

“But you’re not sorry about dating Rafe Cameron?” JJ spits out, turning to finally look at her fully, his expression a combination of disbelief, anger, and the same betrayal mirrored on Kie’s face.

Isla steels herself. “No, I’m not. Come on, guys,” she tries, shaking her head. “You know me. You know I’d never be with someone I genuinely thought wasn’t a good person. But I’ve gotten to know him. I know the kind of guy he is—”

“Oh, barf,” Kie cuts her off with a roll of her eyes, and Isla’s teeth press together tightly. “Are you serious?” She leans forward, arms still crossed and gaze locked with Isla’s. “He’s obviously playing you.”

Isla’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Playing me for what?” she asks. “What the hell does he get out of pretending to be a good person just to date me?”

“Not to date you—he just wants to fuck you,” JJ says tightly, his crude words damn near making Isla flinch as she looks at him in hurt. Cleo purses her lips, but Isla doesn’t miss the disapproving look she throws towards JJ, who promptly ignores her as his narrow eyed gaze remains on Isla. “Maybe he’s just getting some kind of twisted revenge, I don’t know, for Sarah becoming one of us. Maybe—” He takes a step towards Isla, eyes hard and unforgiving. “He’s trying to prove once a Kook, always a Kook.”

The tightness in Isla’s chest intensifies to the point of pain, lips parting slightly as she gapes at JJ, a slight crease in her forehead as his words land like a slap. An angry JJ always knows the right words to say that cause the maximum damage, and making Isla feel like an outsider in her own friend group is a sure fire way of making her feel small. Pressure begins to build behind Isla’s eyes, but she forces the tears back, not letting them gather as she lifts her chin in defiance. 

“We all welcomed Sarah with open arms when she and John B started dating,” Isla points out, voice surprisingly steady. She doesn’t want to bring Sarah into this, but she needs to point out their hypocrisy.

“Sarah isn’t Rafe,” John B answers tightly. Next to him, Sarah twists her lips to the side, that confliction still evident in her expression as she looks between Isla and the others. “She’s never thrown a punch at any of us.”

Exasperation and desperation form an ugly combination inside of Isla. “It’s not like you guys are innocent, either!” she exclaims, gesturing to all of the guys. “You guys have started plenty of fights with them for no reason.”

Kie scoffs, leaning back against the wall. “Nice,” she mutters, and Isla’s heart aches fiercely because, God, she had so desperately hoped her sister would be on her side, at least. But she won’t find an ally in Kie, and that fucking hurts.

“What do you want from us, Isla?” Pope asks, frowning up at her. “What’d you expect was going to happen after we found out? Whether we heard it from you or from anyone else?”

“I—” Isla falters breathlessly as she looks at each of their faces. Various degrees of anger, hurt, and disbelief still stare back at her. She knew this wouldn’t be easy, but the tightness in her chest is still uncomfortable. Her voice shakes despite her best efforts as she answers, “I expected you guys to trust me.”

Only Sarah’s expression softens, and maybe Cleo’s, upon hearing Isla’s words. Not the guys’. Not her own sister’s. 

“Trust you?” Kie asks, that disbelieving edge creeping back into her voice. “You’ve been secretly dating Rafe behind our backs for months. You can’t talk about trust when you’re the one who broke ours.”

Isla presses her lips together. Despite her pain, she knows Kie has a point. “I was going to tell you when the time was right,” she informs them. “I just—I wasn’t ready for this before. I knew you’d all react this way so I kept putting it off.”

“You knew we’d react this way because you know how fucked this is,” JJ counters. His eyes narrow in contempt, one corner of his mouth peeling back in a sneer. “Out of all the people on this damn island, you chose him? The Goddamn prince of the Kooks?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

Isla’s throat works, her jaw clenching. “He’s good to me,” she says quietly but firmly. 

Pope shakes his head, staring at Isla as if she’s lost her mind. “He’s going to screw you over.”

No, he won’t, she wants to argue. But her gaze sweeps over them all one more time, and Isla knows that she hasn’t gotten through to them. Still, she wants to try. She owes it to Rafe and to their relationship. “He cares about me. He looked out for me before we even got together. He—he helped me when my car broke down. And when the cops showed up at the Boneyard party. And Kie, he—” She looks at her sister, whose eyes have sharpened. “He stepped in at the last party, remember? With Topper. He stopped things from escalating even more. Guys, he’s not as bad as you think, okay? A person can change.”

“You’re delusional,” JJ says sharply, and Isla tries not to flinch.

Sarah sits up, frowning slightly at the blonde. “JJ—”

“No,” he cuts her off, facing Isla with a tightened jaw, arms crossed. His cheeks are flushed slightly, angrily. JJ’s gaze is hard, unrelenting, as he says to Isla, “You need to decide; him or us.”

Isla stills—the whole room stills—as she stares at JJ with widening eyes and parted lips. It feels as though no air is going into her lungs as she chokes, “What?”

“It’s pretty fucking simple,” JJ snaps, Isla’s heart picking up its pace too quickly as she gapes at him. He cannot be serious. This can’t be happening. “You’re either with us or with him. But you can’t have both.” He gestures to Sarah. “She doesn’t have a choice because he’s her brother. But you started dating him—” He practically spits those words out, like they’re poison in his mouth. “Knowing the kind of asshole he is.”

“He’s not an asshole!” Isla argues tightly. “Can we just—please—” She helplessly looks at the others, and Isla knows that she hurt them with this, but pain lances through her at the realization that none of them are outright coming to her defense. It’s gotten so out of hand, so fast, and the panic and dread war inside of her. “You guys know me,” she tries again desperately. “I wouldn’t be with him if I thought he was a bad person. Why can’t we just leave the past in the past?”

“You can’t expect us to suddenly be all buddy-buddy with Rafe,” Kie says, frowning. “He’s never given us a reason to—”

“I’m giving you a reason! Right now!” Isla cuts her off, hand pressing to her chest and feeling her heart thunder against her palm. Her skin is warm from anxiety, cheeks probably flushed from the heat that spreads through her. “He’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me. I’m your sister—your best friend,” she adds, looking at each of them. “My word should be enough.”

JJ shrugs. “I don’t really trust liars.”

Isla’s jaw clenches, throat tight. “JJ,” Sarah chastises, her throat working as she looks around the room. “Look, come on, guys. This is getting a little crazy. I mean, Rafe isn’t some—some monster—”

“Of course you’d defend him; he’s your brother,” Pope scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “But he’s never given any of us a reason to think differently of him,” he adds. His gaze meets Isla’s sharply. “And I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can take your word for it.”

A rough breath escapes Isla, defeat creeping through her like an unwanted shiver. Her word isn’t enough? She knew. . . She knew they would react badly, but this? The pressure returns in her eyes and she drops her gaze to the ground, blinking quickly. Her chest is so tight, it makes it difficult to breathe as the hurt burns through her. To know her friends don’t trust her, that they aren’t willing to hear her out and see things from her perspective. . . Her throat dries, unable to swallow the massive lump formed in the middle of it.

She never thought she would feel like such an outsider amongst her friends. Isla knows she’s always had one foot in each life, Pogue and Kook, sometimes more so than Sarah. It had never been a point of contention before. But this has blown up far more than she thought it would. Maybe she was naive in thinking that they could talk and work things out—

No, no, she wasn’t naive. She had trusted in her friends, in the relationship she had with them all. She had thought that their friendship would be important enough for them to want to see and hear her side of things, to accept her relationship that she already had been hesitant in getting into because of her friends’ reactions. But Rafe. . . He makes her happy. So genuinely happy, in a way she’s never experienced before with anyone else. How can she let that go? How can she let any of them go? Is it selfish of her to want both? She didn’t think so at first, but now. . .

“Him or us, Isla,” JJ’s hard voice breaks through her thoughts, forcing Isla to look up at him. His gaze is still sharp but, God, she sees the subtle hope that swims in those blue eyes. Hope that she picks them over Rafe. It tightens her throat even more.

She gives one slow shake of her head, her voice quiet but defiant as she answers, “I’m not choosing.”

JJ’s jaw works, his chin lifting. Disappointment flashes across his eyes, mixed with surprise, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. He wants her to choose them, but Isla can’t do that, not if it means not having Rafe. In the same way, she can’t just choose Rafe but also lose her friends. She wants both—why can’t she have both? Why does she have to choose? What kind of sick ultimatum is this?

Shrugging, JJ says, “You saying that is an answer enough. Don’t come crying back to us when he fucks you over.”

Silence descends and Isla wonders if they can hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes burn, throat locked, and she’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to flee. They won’t listen to her—not like this, not when the truth is a fresh wound. “Okay,” she whispers, clearing her throat after as she steps back towards the door. “Obviously, this has gotten a little out of hand.” An understatement. “We can talk again once we’ve all calmed down.”

JJ and Pope scoff at that and Isla tries not to flinch as her gaze meets Kie’s. Her sister stares at her for a brief moment before turning her head, effectively looking away, and Isla swallows as she opens the door. “Okay,” she mutters again before walking down the steps and away from the house. 

Every step she takes away from the Chateau feels heavy, part of Isla wanting to go back and continue the conversation until they’re all on the same page. But hurt blooms through her chest, spreading everywhere else as her nose stings and vision blurs from the onslaught of tears. They way they all talked to her—the tones of their voices and the looks on their faces—was awful. Sure, she and her friends have gotten into arguments in the past, but never like this. They never belittled her before. Never made her feel so small. Her best friends, her own sister, were downright mean, and a breath shudders out of Isla as she quickly wipes away a tear that rolls down her cheek.

“Isla!” She freezes upon Sarah’s voice before turning around, watching as the blonde jogs up to her. Isla sees the paper bag in her hand and bites the inside of her cheek. “You forgot this,” Sarah says, coming to a stop in front of her and holding the bag out.

Isla meets her gaze, sees the way Sarah’s expression softens because no doubt she takes notice of Isla’s red rimmed, glassy eyes. Sarah’s lips turn downwards as Isla takes the bag from her, sniffling because she can’t help it. “Did um—did Rafe buy you the flowers?” Sarah asks haltingly.

Biting her bottom lip, Isla nods. “Yeah, he did,” she answers, unable to help the way the corner of her mouth kicks up slightly.

Some of the unbearable tightness in her chest loosens, just a fraction, when Sarah mirrors the subtle smile. It disappears, though, and her expression falls, a little pleading. “Just give them some time, okay? They’re pretty raw right now. I-I’m sure they’ll come around?”

“You think?” Isla asks. She aims to sound hopeful, but it comes out unconvinced. “Will you?”

Sarah is silent for a beat. “I think what JJ said is unfair. And I think I owe it to you and my brother to not jump to conclusions.” Her hand reaches out, and Isla’s throat works when Sarah takes her hand, squeezing it reassuringly as her soft brown eyes meet Isla’s green. “I’ll talk to them. It’ll be okay, Isla. Just—just give them some time.”

Isla nods a couple of times, appreciative. At least someone is on her side. “What happened in there was fucked up,” she mutters, lips turned downwards. She’s still angry, but right now, she feels more tired than anything else. A little too defeated to focus on the anger.

“It was,” Sarah agrees with a frown. “It went too far. I’ll talk to them.”

“Thanks,” Isla says, squeezing Sarah’s hand.

“Are you—how are you getting home?” Sarah asks.

Isla shrugs. “I’m gonna walk up to the park, I guess. Clear my head a little before heading home.”

Sarah nods, though her forehead creases in worry. Isla is mildly surprised when she pulls her in for a hug, but Isla welcomes it, eyes squeezing shut to keep back the new burn of tears. “I love you. It’ll be okay.”

“I love you, too,” Isla responds, her voice only slightly shaky as she returns the hug and hopes that Sarah is right.

*****

The chain of the swing creaks slowly as Isla sways back and forth gently, her feet scraping against the dirt with every movement. Around her, kids run around and play. In the distance, a group of guys play basketball at the fenced-in court. It’s late afternoon, so the sunlight isn’t so bright, more clouds in view, but Isla’s gaze remains on the ground ahead of her.

You’re either with us or with him. But you can’t have both.

Was she naive to think that she hadn’t expected the ultimatum? Or was it just faith in her friendship with all of them that had her believing that they would be able to talk it out and they would see where she was coming from? Not accept her relationship right away, but it wouldn’t have gone so horribly the way it did.

Now, away from them, Isla no longer holds back the tears that burn her eyes. They roll freely down her cheeks, a breath shuddering out of her as she swipes a hand under her sniffling nose. Her stomach is in knots, tight and painful, as she squeezes her eyes closed to shut out the conversation replaying in her head. 

Her sister, her friends—these people she loves and has spent so much of her life with—called her untrustworthy, had practically insinuated that she was crazy for dating Rafe. Her head is at war, knowing where they are coming from, but also hating how everything went down. Isla could barely stick around to continue the conversation, feeling their words beat her into defeat until she has to retreat to collect her thoughts and wits before even thinking about broaching the subject with them again.

And. . . What? If she doesn’t break up with Rafe, will her friends stop talking to her? Has she really committed that big of a fuck up in their eyes? Why can’t they just see it from her eyes? Listen to her? Doesn’t she deserve that much? One relationship is going to be the cause of destroying a handful of friendships?

“Isla.”

A breath catches in her throat at the sound of Rafe’s voice, lifting her head and blinking away her tear blurred vision to see him standing before her. His expression is tight with concern, forehead creased and blue eyes flickering to look at every inch of her as he lowers himself on his knees, his hands on her legs.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, squeezing her knees as he looks up at her so earnestly.

But Isla stares at him in mild disbelief, drinking in the sight of him as she asks, “How’d you know I was here?”

He rarely, if ever, comes onto this side of the island. He’s only ever been here for the parties at the Boneyard, or when he’s secretly given her rides to John B’s. “Sarah texted me,” he answers, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “She—She told me you told them and it didn’t go well.”

A sad scoff escapes her, sniffling after as she says, “I think that’s an understatement.”

Rafe’s jaw works and she can tell, easily, that he’s pissed off. But he pushes it aside, his voice softening as he takes her hands. “Come on. Let’s sit,” he says, standing up and pulling her off the swing. One hand remains holding hers, while the other grabs the bag of books and flowers, and Isla lets him lead her away from the swingset and to a spot in the park that doesn’t have too many people around.

He sits down at the base of a tree, giving her hand a gentle tug to get her to join him. She settles down numbly, sniffling as she mutters, “God,” quietly under her breath as she wipes away the errant tears from her cheeks.

The trunk of the tree is wide enough for them to sit side by side, his arm pressed to hers as he grits, “I should’ve been there.”

Isla shakes her head. “It might have just made things worse,” she says sadly.

Rafe loosens a rough breath. “How’d they find out? I didn’t ask Sarah.”

Exhaling slowly through her nose, Isla turns to look at him, her expression tightening. “Topper,” she says, making Rafe rear back. “Apparently he caught us at the hotel. Sent a picture of us to them, and God—” Isla leans her head back, looking up at the deep green leaves of the tree. “This was not how I wanted them to find out. He fucking made things worse than they could’ve been.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Rafe mutters, running his fingers through his head as he shakes his head, no doubt wondering about Topper’s Goddamn audacity. “So what—what did your friends say?” he asks carefully, looking at her with his forehead creasing in worry.

Isla’s throat dries as she thinks of their words again, her muscles tightening with the hurt that is still present—and probably will be for a while. She brings her knees up, arms wrapping around her legs after fixing the skirt of her dress. “They. . . They were pissed,” she starts, exhaling slowly as she stares ahead at a group of kids in the distance climbing around on the play set. “They feel like I-I betrayed them, and JJ, he—”

She cuts herself off, lips pursing to keep her lower lip from trembling. Rafe’s hand comes to rest on her back, his touch warm and comforting as he rubs her back reassuringly. It’s much needed, his hand on her, knowing that he’s right there next to her, right where she needs him. “What’d he say, baby?” Rafe asks gently, even as she hears the edge creep into his voice.

Isla swallows the lump in her throat, nose stinging and tears gathering as she blinks them away rapidly. “He wanted me to choose. Between you and them.”

“He—” Rafe exhales sharply and from her peripheral vision, she sees him shaking his head incredulously. “He gave you an ultimatum? That’s—are you kidding me?”

“I wish I was,” Isla murmurs desolately, eyes falling shut briefly. Some tears escape, but she wipes them away as the hurt remains frozen in the center of her chest, uncomfortable and tight. There are some other things JJ said, too, but she doesn’t want to tell Rafe, knowing it will only piss him off more. Or, worse, make him want to confront her friends.

He just wants to fuck you.

You’re delusional.

I don’t really trust liars.

Each word was a slap, still stinging right in her heart. Isla wipes her cheeks again, an elbow resting on her knee and leaning her cheek against her palm. “I told him I wasn’t choosing,” she continues, shrugging one shoulder. “I don’t want to—I can’t,” she shakes her head before turning it to look at Rafe. He’s looking at her with such concern, touched with helplessness and anger, and Isla’s lips tremble as more tears gather. The emotions of the fight fly to the surface, and in Rafe’s presence, she doesn’t try to push them back.

“I knew they wouldn’t be happy, but it just—it got so fucked, so fast,” she breathes out, her words trembling. “They wouldn’t even hear me out. Whatever I said just—it didn’t seem to matter and—and they’re my best friends. And they just. . . Didn’t want to listen. Even Kie—” Isla inhales deeply, trying to steady her breathing, but now that she’s given permission for the tears to come, they won’t stop. Rafe’s hand slides up, cupping the back of her neck comfortingly. “Kie wasn’t even on my side. But Sarah was.” Rafe takes in a breath at that, looking both surprised and relieved, especially when Isla gives a hint of a smile at that. It was probably the only silver lining in all of that shit show. “She said she’d talk to them and I appreciate it but they were—”

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head as their words echo in her mind. For a moment, she wonders if she’s being too sensitive, if she should have just expected all of this. Isla is at war with herself, fighting between logic and shattered hope and expectations. “They were what, baby?” Rafe quietly asks, his voice so soft it’s painful.

“They were just mean,” she says with a breathless, hollow laugh. And maybe that’s a childish thing to say, but it feels too accurate at this moment. Her friends can be crude and brash, but never mean. No matter what kind of fights and arguments they’ve had in the past, they never made her feel like this. Her friends have never made her feel so alone. “If I stayed, it just would’ve escalated even more and I just—” She shakes her head with a deep breath. “I had to get out of there.”

Rafe squeezes the back of her neck gently, reassuringly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, frowning as he shakes his head. “Do you—I can talk to them—”

“No,” she cuts him off, straightening. When Rafe purses his lips, unhappy, Isla sighs. “I appreciate it, I really do,” she assures him, sniffling as she puts a hand on his thigh. “But if they’re not going to listen to me, what makes you think they’ll hear you out?” she asks with a sad, knowing smile. “It’s just better to let them be for—”

For how long? Days? Weeks? Is this something they can get over quickly, or will it take time? Isla figures it’s the latter, but the amount of time it’ll take is a mystery. All she can do is hope that they all can come out the other side of this intact.

Rafe lets out a breath, nodding. “What do you need from me?” he asks gently, almost a plea that tightens her chest. There’s an intensity in his eyes and a crease in his forehead that tells her he’s desperate to help, not knowing how, but wanting to nonetheless.

Isla presses her lips together, the corners lifting into a solemn but appreciative smile. “Just need you,” she tells him honestly, watching as his expression softens upon hearing her words before he shifts, winding an arm around her waist, the other going under her knees.

She lets out a breath as he shifts her so she’s sitting sideways on his lap, resting her head against his shoulder as he leans back against the tree and holds her to him, his hand resting on her thigh, fingers against her skin. Isla swipes the back of her hand under her chin when she feels a tear rivulet, throat working. “God, I probably look like a mess,” she mutters, fingers then swiping across her cheeks as she looks up; she definitely has mascara running down her face.

Rafe tilts his head as he moves his hands to cup her face, turning her head to face him. He looks down at her, something flickering across his blue eyes as he no doubt takes in her tear streaked face, his own thumbs swiping along her cheeks. “A beautiful mess,” he corrects, grinning, and Isla knows he both means it and is trying to lighten her mood.

It works, a huff of a laugh escaping her as she rolls her eyes. Shoulders slumping, she says, “I guess we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Her tone takes a hopeful lilt as Rafe’s hands lower to rest on the sides of her neck. The late afternoon sun peeks through the leaves, bathing him and a spot of sunlight hits his eyes just right, making his blue eyes glimmer prettily. “You sure you wanna be seen with me?” Rafe smirks teasingly, arching one eyebrow. “I have a bit of a reputation.”

Isla breathes out another laugh, arms sliding around his neck and holding him close, her chest pressing to his. She pushes closer to him, the tip of her nose bumping against his as her gaze drops to his lips briefly. “I don’t scare easily,” she murmurs as they share the same breath.

Rafe’s eyes meet hers, flickering down to her lips before lifting again to lock gazes once more. Isla’s heart stutters as he leans closer and captures her lips with his, feeling a new kind of freedom as she earnestly kisses him back without worry of anyone spotting them—or, more accurately, caring if they do. She sighs into the kiss, muscles finally relaxing in relief at the closeness. Rafe’s hold on her is gentle, his fingers threading into her hair as her lips open under his, his tongue sliding in to dance with hers as he angles her head.

When they pull away moments later, Isla settles back against him, head against his shoulder and forehead tucked along his jaw. “I’m sorry about your friends,” he murmurs.

The remorse evident in his tone makes her heart clench. She knows Rafe isn’t crazy about her friends, but he wants to make the effort because he knows how much they mean to her. Isla had been hoping her friends would show the same thoughtfulness. It’s a lot to wrap their heads around, sure, but the conversation didn’t have to take the kind of turn that it did. And even if they did come around, would Isla be able to forgive them for their words?

She sighs. One problem at a time. “You don’t need to apologize,” she tells him truthfully.

Rafe huffs out a breath. “What I need to do is give Topper a piece of my fucking mind,” he mutters, an edge creeping into his voice. When Isla glances at him, she sees the muscle in his sharp jaw working while feeling him tense against her.

“He’s not worth it,” Isla mumbles, even if she doesn’t entirely agree. She just doesn’t want Rafe getting into a fight, though she has no doubt Rafe can easily take Topper.

“It’s ultimately his fault you were crying, so I’m gonna disagree with you on that,” Rafe says, his arms around her tightening a fraction, like he wants to protect her from her own tears.

Isla lets out a gentle laugh. “Gonna defend my honor, Rafe Cameron?”

He turns his head enough to press his lips to her forehead, Isla’s eyes fluttering shut at the gentle contact. “Damn straight; day and night.”

He holds her close, and she believes him.

[sakurarisen]

So with everything starting to even out again and feeling better after all the heartache and illnesses, I've spent a little time updating my verses page, which was kiiiindda really overdue on my list of things to get done. XD So I've gone and gotten to the following:

The YGO Vrains and FFX verses have been removed. It's possible they'll come back in the future, but for the time being, there's nothing going on with these, haven't for a long time, and it's unlikely they'd see anything for a while yet - But if they do start getting interest in them again, I'll happily add them back it! It just won't be anytime soon. <3

In the place of the previously mentioned verses are Feather Flurry, a verse for/set in Honkai: Star Rail, and Halcyon Era, a fully original verse set several thousand years ago that explores the original story of the phoenixes - Sera's original life, where she's known as Aria, the Snow Phoenix. These are currently temporary entries and will be rewritten and/or added to in the future, as things get plotted, written, and worked out better~

FFX has been removed from the divergences page, and replaced with an HSR entry - Which is currently listed as 'to be added' due to the fact nothing has been solidified completely just yet, nor written up yet. <3

Verses have been reordered! I've also noted in the 'table of contents' in the sidebar on that page what each verse is for an idea of which is which without having to go randomly clicking through them if you're only interested in checking out one specific verse entry!

'Phoenix Lore' has been changed to Halcyon Lore; the two are the same, but the overall 'Phoenix Lore' now falls under the title of Halcyon, which has become the title for the phoenix story itself. Halcyon refers to every aspect of the phoenix story overall, including the verse Halcyon Era.

It's not much, really, but it was pretty overdue considering I haven't used the removed verses in forever, if at all in the case of FFX, for a bunch of reasons. There's still further editing to be done - I need adjust things on my other blogs and on Sera's carrd - but for now, this is a start to getting things even further tidied! <3

~Pom

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ How Would The Slytherin boys React After you tell them you’re pregnant:✦ 」

[Mattheo Riddle-Theodore Nott-Lorenzo Berkshire-Draco Malfy-Tom Riddle]

•Mattheo Riddle

1.Silence: You blurt out the news, a nervous flutter in your chest. Mattheo stares at you, processing the information. Don't panic! This is his initial shock absorbing mode.

2. More Silence: You try again. Still, silence. Don't take it personally; his mind is racing a million miles a minute.

3. The Disappearance Act: By evening, Mattheo might be MIA. Don't fret! This is probably him needing some space to grapple with the news. (Don't chase him to Knockturn Alley, though.)

4. Awkward Return: When he finally returns, you launch into a "what-are-we-going-to-do" speech. But wait! He cuts you off...

5. "Hey, it's okay” : Mattheo might surprise you with a calm demeanor. This doesn't mean he isn't nervous, but he's trying to reassure you (and maybe himself).

6. "I want it too." : Prepare for a confession! Mattheo, the king of nonchalance, might admit he wants this, with you. This might be followed by an apology for his earlier silence."Sorry, I was just shocked earlier. Shouldn't have reacted that way."

7. Confusion Reigns: "You're not mad?" you finally manage to ask, a sliver of doubt lingering.He might confess he's clueless about the whole "No," he says, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. "It's just... I never thought about this stuff. Family, kids, the whole shebang. But if I'm gonna do it, I want it to be with you."  _Cue the tiny butterflies in your stomach._

8. "But with you.":He might clarify that while the whole baby thing is new, having it with you? That's something he can do.

9. Protectiveness Unleashed: Expect a shift in Mattheo. He might become fiercely protective of you and the little one on the way. (Just don't tell him it's "nesting" if he starts building a barricade around your house.),Mattheo will hover over you, insisting you take prenatal vitamins and threatening to glare down any stranger who bumps into you. It's annoyingly sweet.

10.The (Slight) Freak Out (Because It's Mattheo): Don't get too comfortable yet. There will be moments of panic. Mattheo might blurt out something about not knowing the first thing about raising a kid, or how motorbikes suddenly seem like a terrible idea. Just remind him that you're in this together, crazy as it may be.

•Theodore Nott

1. Reality Check?: Theo might blurt out, "Are you sure?" It's not doubt about your love, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. Breathe, and calmly confirm with that positive blood test result.

2. Freak-Out Time: Picture a cartoon character with smoke billowing from their ears. That might be Theo, internally freaking out. Don't worry, it's normal (though maybe not that dramatic).

3. Parental Apocalypse?: "Your dad will kill me!" Theo might shriek, envisioning a future father-in-law wielding a shotgun.

4. Waterworks Warning: Tears might well up in your eyes, a mix of emotions swirling. He will put everything beside and try to comfort you.

5. Protective Streak: Expect a dramatic shift. Theo, the notorious rule-breaker, might turn into a fierce protector, ready to shield you from any and all perceived threats.

6. Reassurance Renaissance: He'll rush to your side, muttering reassurances like "Hey, I'm here" and "I'll be here every step of the way." "I might be freaking out internally, but I'm not going anywhere."

7. "We" is the New Word: The "me" might temporarily disappear, replaced by a constant "we." He might start talking about "our baby" and "what we need to do.".

8. Fear is a Two-Way Street: Theo might confess he's scared too. Don't be surprised; fatherhood is a big leap for anyone. Reassure him you're in this together.

9. Facing the Future, Together: Theo might not be known for responsibility, but this news could be a turning point. He might surprise you with his determination to navigate this journey with you.

10.A (Slightly Chaotic) New Chapter: Yes, there will be challenges. But with Theo by your side, even the most chaotic moments of pregnancy and parenthood can turn into an unforgettable adventure (well, maybe not all the diaper changes).

•Lorenzo Berkshire

1. Record Scratch Moment: "Excuse me, what?" Lorenzo might look like a record player with a skipped track. Don't worry, the information overload will clear soon.

2. Baby Talk Confusion: He might blurt out, "Pregnant? Like...with a baby, like a real baby ?"

5. The F-Bomb Symphony: Brace yourself for a chorus of "Oh fuck!" Lorenzo might panic a bit, but hey, at least he acknowledges the reality.

6. Apology Avalanche: Prepare for a barrage of "I'm so sorry for putting a baby on you." It's not guilt-tripping, just Lorenzo's awkward way of expressing concern.

7. Decision Time: He might cut through the tension with a simple, "Okay, what do we do?" Don't be fooled by his bluntness; he's ready to face this together. He might surprise you with a genuine, "I want it. Do you?" Expect a hint of nervousness, but mostly a determination to be a part of this.

8. Family Gathering Fiasco: Prepare for a potential meltdown when it comes to telling your families. He might blurt out, "I'm pregnant!" before you can correct him. Just take a deep breath and handle the announcement yourself later.

9. Overprotective Overload: Expect Lorenzo to morph into your personal bubble wrap. Lifting a box? Forget it. Climbing stairs? Hold on, he's got you. You might need to remind him you're not made of glass .

10. Google Goes Dad Mode: One night, you might catch him researching "how to take care of a pregnant woman" , “ How to be a good dad “ on his phone. Aww, just don’t cry you will freak him out again.

•Draco Malfy

1. Denial is a River in Egypt:  His first response? "You're lying." Don't panic. This is classic Draco, clinging to disbelief. Prepare to show him the pregnancy test, the blood test… anything to pierce his denial bubble.

2."Look Away, Not At It!": He might stubbornly refuse to even glance at the evidence. Don't take it personally; it's his defense mechanism malfunctioning.

3. Accusatory Tirade: Brace yourself for a verbal explosion. He might accuse you of lying, of trapping him, of using his family name. Remember, fear often masquerades as anger in Draco's world.

4. Protection Spells on His Pants?: He might insist he used every protection under the sun. Don't get into a magical contraception debate. Just try to explain accidents happen.

5. The Ejector Seat Option: Draco might bluntly tell you to leave. It's a knee-jerk reaction, not a reflection of his true feelings (hopefully!).

6. Standing Your Ground: Here comes the hard part. You tell him you're keeping the baby, with or without him. This might be the first crack in his emotional armor.

7. A Continent Away From Chaos: Fearing his reaction and the uncertainty of it all, you flee to another country. Girl, we feel you! But remember, you're not alone in this.

8. A Connection You Can't Deny: Despite the fear, you feel a powerful bond with the tiny life growing inside you. This little one deserves a chance, and you vow to protect them.

9. The Redemption Knocks: Two months later, a frantic pounding on your door jolts you awake. You open it to find a desperate Draco, his face etched with worry.

10. A Malfoy Regret-Fest: He confesses he searched everywhere for you, regret gnawing at him. When he learns you fled, the dam breaks. He apologizes profusely, begging you to tell him you kept the baby.

A Second Chance, Malfoy Style:

Relief washes over you as you nod, tears welling up. He wipes them away, muttering, "It's still ours. I'm so sorry. I'll never hurt you or our baby again." A genuine plea hangs in his voice.

“ Do you still love me?“ A shaky nod escapes your lips. He pleads for forgiveness, for a chance to be part of this family he never knew he craved.

This might be the start of a rocky but redemptive journey for both of you. Draco, beneath his icy exterior, might surprise you with his capacity for love and growth. Just remember, keep a communication charm handy – navigating fatherhood with Draco will likely be an… interesting adventure.

•Tom Riddle

1. The Stoic Facade: Don't be surprised if Tom remains eerily calm. His usual mask of control might slip not an inch, leaving you wondering what's going on behind those eyes.

2. Tears: A flood of emotions might be coursing through you, but Tom? His reaction might be a chilling calmness. This doesn't mean he's unfeeling, just that he processes things differently.

3. Misinterpreting Your Distress: Seeing you cry, Tom might jump to a chilling conclusion. "Is having a baby with me that terrifying?" Here comes the part where you clarify.

4. Guilt by Association: A quick "No, no!" will hopefully ease his worry. But then you blurt out your fear – you're both too young.

5. Age is Irrelevant: Tom operates on a different timeline. Age is just a number, and power? That's the real currency. He might say, "It's not about age, it's about power."

6. Power Trip for Three?: Brace yourself for a Tom Riddle monologue about the immense power your child could possess. He might see it as an extension of his own ambitions, a prodigy groomed for greatness.Don't be afraid to voice your anxieties. When you say, "Tom, I don't want my baby to be part of your plans," he might actually listen.

6. A Promise, Riddle-Style: “I promise you, I will keep them safe. I will keep you safe." But remember, Tom's definition of "safe" might not align with yours. Stay frosty.

7. Your Fears Take Center Stage: Tears welling up again? This might be the moment it dawns on Tom that you're not thrilled about the power angle. He might try to reassure you, but...

8. Promises with a Price: Tom doesn't give anything without expecting something in return. Be prepared for him to outline his expectations for your role in his grand plan.

9. A Tug-of-War for the Future: This is where things get interesting. Do you submit to his vision, or do you fight for a different future for your child? The choice is yours.

10. A Dance with Darkness: Having a child with Tom Riddle is a gamble. He might be a captivating presence, but remember, his path is paved with darkness. Are you willing to walk it with him?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), cussing (bkg-typical), not many warnings needed for this one chat

words. 1.3k (i had to split it so that the chapter wouldn't be a whole ass novel. also for pacing purposes :0)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 8, part 9

Your eyes lazily trail the movement of the colleague you speak to at most twice a year as they give a presentation up front, the words they’re uttering slowly turning into a slew of blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory like in that TikTok you saw before falling into a fitted sleep the night prior.

Without you noticing, November has finally rolled around, and with it came one of the most important meetings involving Bakugou, Kirishima, and the agency’s department heads aimed at preparing the leaders for the year-end processes and reports.

The very meeting that you find yourself barely getting through at this exact moment.

Tanaka, the said colleague, seems like he’s explaining a pie graph about Dynamight, Red Riot, and their sidekicks’ stats, you think.

You shake your head in an attempt to bring your attention back to what’s in front of you, but your efforts appear to have been in vain as your mind, once again, drifts to the past, and you find yourself mulling over what Mina said two weeks ago.

It’s something that hasn’t left your mind since then, trailing behind you like a damned poltergeist who doesn’t know when to let up.

And as much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s caused considerable confusion on your part, and you don’t like how it may have inadvertently affected how you act around Bakugou, too.

You’re more fidgety, now, and you’ve since beaten your record of how fast you get flustered and stuttery around the man. Although if he’s noticed this humiliating, inexplicable change in your behavior, he isn’t showing it.

At least, not by much.

His gazes have been lingering for a beat too long whenever you stammered your response instead of doing so calmly like you usually do…

“Hey.”

You sit up in sudden attention, dizziness instantly hitting you from having been violently pulled from your reverie. You look at Bakugou, who’s staring you down from the end of the table, and scan the area around him, only to realize that everybody has apparently left, leaving the two of you alone in the conference room.

“Wha—”

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment. Guilty.

He shakes his head in what you think is disapproval, stacking the documents in front of him in a neat pile. You take that as a cue to follow suit, gathering your folders in front of you and hurriedly standing up to beeline out of the room.

The last thing you need is for these glass doors to magically lock you in, too.

But you don’t even get to reach the doorway, ass barely lifted a breadth away from your cushy office chair when he speaks up.

“I overheard you in the breakroom.”

You freeze in your tracks, lifting your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Earlier this morning. You said—” he pauses, eyes shifting to your rear, “Sit back down, dumbass. Your knees are gonna kill you if you keep this up.”

You’re about to retort with a comeback when it dawns on you that the guy has a point, so you begrudgingly take a seat.

“As I said,” he shoots you a pointed look, “I overheard you saying you didn’t have plans for next week.”

“Next week?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, yeah,” you absentmindedly scratch your right cheek. “My family will be on vacation and all my close friends have plans with their relatives.”

One of his eyebrows raises in question, “And you won’t be tagging along?”

You shrug, “I don’t want to impose on my friends, and being with my family on a holiday isn’t exactly the most relaxing experience.”

Bakugou merely hums in response, seeming as if he’s pondering something in his head. Unable to sustain his gaze, you opt for looking around the room instead, suddenly finding the plain, gray ceiling wildly interesting.

A few moments pass before you decide that yes, this silence is going to kill you if you don’t get the fuck out now.

You lift yourself from your chair, “Well, I should get go—”

“Come over.”

As if you’re in a slapstick comedy, you, once again, freeze. “W-what?”

He clears his throat, “C-come over, to my parents’. For thanksgiving.”

You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity before his eyes gravitate toward your rear again, only this time you plop back down before he can order you to reseat yourself.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow…”

He sighs like he’s teaching you basic ass mathematics and you’re not getting it. “The old hag has been begging me to let them meet you ever since, you know…”

The news of you two “dating” broke out. Right.

You mentally slap yourself for forgetting Bakugou had parents who would eventually also catch wind of your silly little dating scandal.

At the thought of meeting the people who raised Bakugou, your throat suddenly feels a bit too dry. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” you manage to get out.

It’s one thing to go and pretend to be Bakugou’s girlfriend in front of the man’s fucking parents, it’s another to do so in this state that you’ve been in ever since that get-together with his friend group. You don’t exactly know why, but you’ve been fundamentally reconfigured since that fated night, and whatever the fuck is causing it, you’re sure won’t mix well with being in the same room as Bakugou’s parents. That, on top of having to act all lovey-dovey with their son around them.

You’re about to defend your case as to why they should just scrap the idea entirely when Bakugou responds.

“It’s either that or she visits us here in the agency.”

Your jaw drops, “Is that a threat?”

He draws his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “It’s an ultimatum.”

“That’s more or less the same thing,” you counter.

“My mom likes to play with the shitty technicalities,” he retaliates, tone abrasive as ever.

You can only gawk at the guy as he shifts in his seat rather quite uncomfortably.

Is he seriously going along with his mom’s wishes now?

What happened to the ever-notorious Bakugou who just goes for what he wants without minding everyone else?

You study the man for a beat, weighing your options in your head. It’s obvious, which of the two is the wiser option. It’s a matter of going for where there are fewer pairs of eyes watching you and Bakugou’s every movement. But the real question is, why do you have to choose in the first place?

“I don’t understand,” you start, “Why can’t you just tell your mom that we’re not ready to do the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing yet?”

“Why don’t you be on the receiving end of her fucking nagging, hah?” he snaps, voice defensive and loud enough to make you jump.

“Okay, okay,” you immediately concede, tone placating, not willing for this to escalate into a fight. The last thing you need is for somebody in the building to overhear you, think you’re having a lovers’ quarrel or whatever the fuck they call it, and run to the media to gush all about it.

You’ve had enough media exposure to last you for a lifetime, thank you very much.

Chancing one last glance at your boss, you find him staring a hole into the pile of papers directly in front of him, a prominent scowl etched on his face.

His mom’s nagging must be weighing him down more than you thought.

As you study the visibly bothered man, you’re acutely aware of all the fight evaporating from your body, and you eventually find yourself slouching in your seat in what you reluctantly identify as defeat.

“…What’s your parents’ address?”

“Don’t bother,” he almost instantly replies. “I’ll pick you up.”

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @beab19 @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lovra974 @chelbyisbord @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble @moonz33 @citrustsuki @deadhands69 @lemuhr @rosemarygalaxy @iluv-ace @eyesforbkg @carpe000diem @shushbruv @matchat3a @ttalgi @bakunianadecorazon @the2ndl @keiscwsz @onlyisaa @aizawa19

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 they make such a huge difference! have a lovely day ( ˘ ³˘)

[anadiasmount]

i have a fluff fic idea, reader has just given birth and that same night at the hospital, when everyone has already left and everything is silent, just the two of them they talk about how their new life is gonna be and maybe jude telling her how much he loves her and how proud he is of her and grateful for giving him a family

only the start - jb blurb.

i hope this wasn’t too bad, i quickly wrote this bc i absolutely love dad! jude and we haven’t seen much of it on the tag :(( 🤍

“i still can’t believe this is real,” jude said tiredly, not being able to look away from his babygirl on his arms, the skin to skin method. he couldn’t believe how tiny she was and just how beautiful she looked, his babygirl. adjusting her tinny bow beanie, the blanket to make sure she was warm, kissing her tiny fingers that wrapped around his pinky. he was in pure awe.

he heard you giggle, looking up to pull the rocking chair in the room close to your bed where you laid slightly on your side, still sore after the labor aftermath. you were just overall thankful you had a smooth labor, it was sure as hell painful but it was all worth it for little aurora in jude’s embrace. he was over the moon and overwhelmed with emotions. you as well.

jude at one point had gotten worried due to your body having tiny shakes but it was confirmed by the nurses it was adrenaline and your hormones trying to regulate themselves again. he did what he knew was best and held you close, ushering tiny words of comfort to let you know he was here and that it was all over.

“how are you feeling now?” his gaze softened, holding your left hand and stroked your knuckles.

“i’m doing okay… just tired and exhausted,” you smiled, reassuring him since he had a tendency to panic at anything. but hey, that was your jude.

“when your mom was talking to me i was so sleepy from the medicine, and hungry! but now i feel just at peace with you and aurora,” you admitted, covering your face embarrassed while hearing jude sniffle out a quiet chuckle, afraid of waking her up. “she’s so tiny,” you pointed out, looking at how her small button nose and eyes filled with long lashes already.

you had always wished and wanted for your daughter to have a princess name, it came with the obsession of disney movies and she would be your little princess. the name itself was beautiful and unique. you and jude were quick to decide and agree knowing it was perfect for her. she was perfect. ten tiny toes, and ten tiny fingers. a healthy baby.

“isn’t crazy how you just brought in a new life into this world?” jude retorted, still struggling how to wrap the last few months. “you carried her in your belly for 9 months! you lived your life but was also building the start of hers.”

“what matters is that she was born safe and sound,” you replied. “i couldn’t have asked for anything more than that. although she hurt so bad,” you winced thinking of the long labor. the first few hours of pure anger and not wanting to talk to jude, then another couple of hours were you just laid and practiced breathing methods, to finally letting jude hold you and guide you through it.

“once we get home, it’s the start of a new chapter,” you recalled, seeing jude nod and press and tiny kiss on her cheek, baby aurora smiling making you gasp and jude almost shed a tear. he was so damn emotional, more than you. he felt all of the pregnancy symptoms when it should’ve been you! but he was there through it all. late night cravings, pains, appointments, the shopping.

“i can’t wait though! her nursery is all set, and we’re prepared for everything remember? we’re not alone we have our family and friends also here to guide us which is more than okay. i know it’s scary believe me, but it will all fall into place,” jude stood up, gently shushing and placing her into your arms, guiding you so you can rest on his chest. “the “what if” will be along the road all that matters is taking care and giving aurora endless love.”

“how am i so lucky to have you?” you praise, looking back and up where jude shook his head.

“i’m lucky to have you. for everything. i mean you carried our babygirl while also working and being there for me. i can’t express just how much i am grateful to have met you. you mean the world to me y/n, and i can’t think of anything better than you. because you are my world…” jude whispered, a small tear escaping his eye as you pouted and brushed it away. “i’ll never stop saying it because i want you to know how thankful i am for you and what you do for us.”

“i love you, jude…”

“and to think you didn’t want to even bother with me at the start,” jude joked seeing the shyness creep into your eyes at the memory.

“listen. to be fair i had a point. i thought you were cocky and stuck up and only cared for football. AND, you if you remember closely you thought i was a “miss know-it-all” after we had met,” you defended your case, jude’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “then you begged and begged and begged for me. i still remember when you got onto your knees-”

“okay that’s enough now!” jude cut you off, resting his head with your as he looked down at baby aurora still resting. “i hope she’s like this all the time,” jude said making you roll your eyes, jude still oblivious and not knowing after a week it would be different. “the nurses were in awe of her,” he continued.

“shut up. they were in love with you,” you snickered.

“yeah they were… but they didn’t know how badass my wife is.”

“that’s also true!”

“and just how much i adore and love her…”

“mhm and what else?” you smiled, feeling jude pepper kisses along your cheek and jaw.

“and that i’m willing to move heaven and earth to be with you.”

“okay now you’re pushing it,” you recall but jude cuts you off with a kiss, making your heart race and falling more in love with him. thankful for his undying love and loyalty towards you. “i’ll be here for you and aurora no matter what,” jude promised, seeing your bite your bottom lip and close your eyes. “and no matter what the future holds, i want more babies with you,” he joked.

“get out or i’ll call your mom.”

“no wait i’m sorry!”

[stove-top96]

Water Colour Eyes

Chapter 2

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Featuring: Platonic Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (mostly Jason)

1.8K words

I’m not the biggest fan of this chapter, I tried something new when writing it and it didn’t mix well. Chapter 3 will be a lot better. Any and all advice will be appreciated. Comment if you wanna be added to the Taglist (I hope I did it right)

You’re the first one to get cut, although you were scheduled to work the close Albertine wanted you out of there as soon as possible. Honestly you were thankful, if you stayed there any longer you’d probably break. Roa called in sick, so you were stuck fending for yourself once the Waynes left. You messed up 3 ticket orders, because of Albertine’s new no notepad policy, so you were ridiculed by the kitchen staff for being incompetent. The last 4 hours were brutal, you can’t stop thinking about how hard it is to work there. It’s so isolating, and the staff make you feel so stupid. You just can’t take it anymore, you’ve never been made to feel so incompetent and insecure anywhere else. You feel so pathetic for putting up with it, but where else can you make so much money? Being a freshman in college means your options are pretty limited.

Grabbing your coat and bag you prepare to head down to the subway station. It’s already dark out, but going home at 9:45 is a lot safer than the original 12:00. Getting home early means you’ll have more time to yourself, and you won't be bothered since your mom and her boyfriend haven’t been home for a few days. It’s the little joys in life that matter.

As you make it to the station it’s a little more crowded than usual. Something you're thankful for, there’s safety in numbers even if they’re strangers. Riding the train to your stop, even though you’re able to have the evening to yourself, thoughts of doubt still race in the back of your mind. The walk home from the station is always rough, but you get through it everytime. your lips tremble, hands shake, and eyes water, you just can’t seem to forget all the mistakes you’ve made. Even so you push it all down. You're only 15 minutes away from your apartment, so you can make it home and cry a little while you're taking a shower or something. Just make it home. Just make it home. It’s the only thing repeating in your mind, the only thing keeping you moving.

Wandering like a ghost through the streets, your thoughts distract you from everything. Just make It home. You had only two more blocks to go. Wiping the few tears that spilled down. Just make it home. You're gonna have the place to yourself, you can have a nice long shower without your step dad getting mad at you. Just make it home. You don't work another shift until Tuesday, so you won’t see them for a while. As long as you just make it home.

“Give me your money”

“What” you’re snapped back to reality as you're confronted by some junkie in the alley. “I said gimme your money” he took a few steps closer, as you inched backwards “I- I don't have any on me right now” you stuttered, hoping your answer might satisfy him. Judging from his face it didn’t. God what were you supposed to do. This man looks like he’s got at least 100 pounds on you, not that you could fight him even if you wanted. “I’m sure ya do, if ya just hand it over no one gets hurt”. He’s cornered you, you have nowhere to run now. Your heart begins to race, hands start to tremble and the tears that threatened to spill earlier are pouring down your face. This is it. you have no money on you, this man will likely beat you to death. you do the only thing you can do “HELP! Someone please!”. This pisses him off as he grabs your wrist, your heart stops as you see him raise a hand to punch. This is it.

+++++

Jason was on his usual route, he had about 2 hours to kill before he got to see you. Being the one to make sure you were safe was something he took pride in, and walking home with you was different. You were always at your most vulnerable after work, protecting you while you’re in such a fragile state brings a sense of warmth about him. You make him feel like a good person, a good brother.

The restaurant is only about 3 blocks down from his patrol route for the night, maybe he can just take a quick look, to make sure you're okay. Bruce did say something about you having a rough night or something like that, he wasn’t paying too much attention all he could think of was how he could make your manager pay without pissing Bruce off. As he nears the restaurant he’s thankful he showed up, since you're already on your way to the subway. Following you the rest of the way, it’s clear you did have a rough day. Fists clenching and grinding his teeth, his blood boils. You don't deserve any of this, you deserve nothing less than the best. Bruce’s fucked up plan to drive into despair only to pick you up is one he never agreed with. They should just save you now so nothing bad can happen on the off chance they aren’t around. Then at least you’d be protected and with them. It doesn’t matter if you fight at first cause in time you’d understand. But the family just can’t see his side, and you’re suffering because of it.

He’s never felt so useless before. He sees your pain, and wants nothing more than to lift you into his arms and set you free from all your troubles. But he can't yet, right now he’s Redhood, but soon he’ll be your brother. Only then will he be able to ease your pain, but he knows even after your wounds heal there’ll still be scares, he has them too. One day you’ll both understand each other, you share experiences that no one else in the family has. He’ll help in the way no one helped him.

As he nears the alley, he sees the man grab your wrist harshly and swing his other arm. Before the thug’s fist comes in contact with your face, he shoots, aiming for the fist about to punch you. The rubber bullet cracks and breaks the thugs hand, letting go of your wrist to writhe in pain. Within seconds redhood arrives at the scene accessing the damage. “Are you alright?” he asks, voice deep and robotic from his mask. Mind racing a thousand thoughts a second you barely comprehend what’s happening. “What..” you mutter quietly, voice cracking from the tears you shed minutes ago. “Are you alright?” He asks again, hand resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “ I- I don’t know” you mumble to yourself as you begin to zone out into your own world. The stress of school, your mom, her boyfriend and especially work, maybe you aren’t okay? Maybe you just can’t push through anymore? You don't know anything anymore. Quickly snapping back into reality “No I'm fine, don't worry, just a little shaken, I’m normally more careful than that.” You stumble through your words, you hope it’s convincing enough, even if you look like a mess and are a little stressed out Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people in a night you can’t keep him waiting any longer. “Thank you,..” you want to say more but he probably has to head back. Gathering your things from your bag you begin the rest of the 15 minute walk back to your apartment, staying more vigilant than ever but still unaware of the masked hero following you home.

Jason’s mind never felt so separated from his body, all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of that scumbag who dared lay a hand on you. But his feelings were irrelevant, you were the only one that mattered right now. The shadows of the alley couldn’t hide your expression. you looked white as a ghost, eyes puffy and wide, your hands trembled slightly as you picked up your things. It didn’t take a genius to see how distressed you are. He wanted to do anything, say something as you walked away, but he couldn't, his body wouldn’t do anything. So he watched his little sibling walk away when they needed him most, never feeling more pathetic. Only after a few minutes of standing did he gain control, running after you to ensure you got home safely, it’s the least he could do for being a horrible brother back there.

+++++

“I believe it would be best to fire that manager” Damian's voice echoes through the Batcave as he prepares for patrol with his father. “Like I’ve told Dick, it's under consideration” Bruce’s response is curt, he understands the boy’s frustrations but in order to reach their end goal they must be patient with everything. Tim rolls his eyes, he understands why but with their current pace they’ll never grow past the current server customer relationship they have. “Have you at least considered our side of things, we can’t let people treat them like that. They’re running herself thin, they could barely smile at us tonight” Tim’s frustration is evident in his voice, why is Bruce not doing anything he understands the plan, even agrees with it but Albertine crosses a line. Bruce goes to speak but is interrupted by a call from Jason. “Yes” he goes silent as the voice on the other line speaks, his face giving nothing away. “Do you have a name?” He asks, the boys are curious. Is tonight gonna turn into something more than a simple patrol? Did a villain plan something big? “Thank you” as he hangs up, his face still doesn’t give any indication as to what was being discussed. “They were attacked” his voice monotone, but the slight furrow in his brow was a clear indicator for the rage brewing inside him. The two boys freeze, as their blood runs cold, and they seethe with rage. Someone tried to hurt their sister?

“What!? Was Todd not supposed to be watching them?” Damion did nothing to hide his rage, mind racing with different possibilities on how he could hurt his brother for his negligence. “He did, and they weren’t hurt. They got sent home early, be thankful Jason stopped by as they were leaving.” Bruce’s voice was firm, but he was lost in his own thoughts and schemes on how they can better insure your protection without interfering with their progress. “Does he have a name?” Tim asked, visibly more relaxed after knowing you were uninjured. “Greg Capullo” Bruce’s answer was short but the tone gave direct instructions. Go after him, he will turn a blind eye to whatever it is they do. Damian, wasting no time leaves the cave preparing to do his worst, while Tim heads towards the bat-computer preparing to make this man’s life miserable. Tonight was a night the criminals of Gotham would remember, as the Bats were far more brutal in every aspect than they have ever been before.

Taglist: @lilyalone @pix-stuff @caged-birdies-blog @toast-on-dandelioms

[hylkun]

30 DAYS | L. HEESEUNG

SYNOPSIS: in which y/n l/n gives lee heeseung 30 days before graduation to prove his feelings for her are genuine.

PAIRING: popular!heeseung x quiet!fem!reader

GENRE: high-school!au, angst and lots of it, fluff, smau in some chapters

STATUS: ongoing (july 13, 2024 - ???)

FEATURING: enhypen, ateez, wonyoung, leeseo (ive), jungkook, hoseok (bts), jeon somi, zoa (weeekly) more to be added.

BEFORE U READ: contains strong language, heeseung shows reader so much mixed signals its crazy, drama, more to be added.

TAGLIST: CLOSED

TABLE OF CONTENTS

VOLUME 1 / WEEK 1

day 1: the confession

day 2: the consequences

day 3: the jang wonyoung

day 4: the strawberry cheesecake

day 5: the bonding

day 6: the not-so-bonding

day 7: the visitor

VOLUME 2 / WEEK 2

day 8: the applications

day 9: the miss not-so-great

day 10: the arcade

day 11: the finals

day 12: the after party

day 13: the library

day 14: the kiss

VOLUME 3 / WEEK 3

day 15: the awkward stage

day 16: the silence

day 17: the regret

day 18: the apology

day 19: the counseling

day 20: the realization

day 21: the 'what the hell am i gonna do'

VOLUME 4 / WEEK 4

day 22: the time's soon up

day 23: the last week

day 24: the preparations

day 25: the unspoken rule

day 26: the mr jeon jungkook

day 27: the oblivious

day 28: the ice breaker

day 29: the last day

day 30: the love is in the air

END.

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 9- Investigations

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: Chapter 9!! Literally one more chapter of act one 🔥🔥 The next chapter is gonna have sm drama be prepared 🤭 Ik xiao seems a little ooc over text with y/n but it’s literally childe giving him flirting tips so don’t mind how bold he seems. It’s for the plot 😭

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @veekoko @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (6/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: After the events of the hot spring you take to avoiding Sylus. It goes well until your accidentally wander somewhere you shouldn't have been.

Content Warnings: Adult language.

Length: 2k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (7) (8) (9)

Read on AO3

“I am going to hurl myself off the mountain.” you muttered into your pillow. “I’m really gonna do it. I can’t go back out there and face him now. My only option is death now.”

You had been hiding back in your bedroom since that morning. You knew you technically had duties but you could not bring yourself to leave the room. When you thought about what happened back in the hot spring your entire body got heated.

It was one thing to have your own little forbidden fantasies that confused you but it was another to actually live them! You couldn’t act like Sylus wasn’t attractive. He was. If he were human then you probably wouldn’t be feeling so conflicted about it. But he is at least part dragon and while it looked like the only differences were cosmetic ones, you had not taken into account that there would be biological differences too!

He could really smell when you were aroused! That was beyond unfair! Now what were you supposed to do? Apparently if you got aroused you stunk up the entire mountain! You would reek and he’d know and how were you  meant to go about your normal duties knowing that at any moment you could have a sudden fleeting desire and he’d pick up on it like a hunting dog tracking a rabbit!

Then his offer to help! Dear gods above, you were going to get aroused again if you thought of the implications.

Maybe it would be fine. You could survive this. Knowing what you knew now the lust would eventually fade and things could go back to normal. He’d get bored of teasing you and--

No. He would not get bored of teasing you. It was stupid to think otherwise. But he may at least stop making blatant comments about it at some point.

With that in mind you decided to be brave and go back to your work. You were just going to do your best to avoid Sylus until you felt that you could be normal about this again. And avoid him you did. You crept through the tunnels like you were a thief in the night. The moment you heard him you darted in the other direction.

When it came to preparing meals you cooked them, shouted that the food was ready, and took off again. And you knew that Sylus could tell that you were avoiding him. If he really wanted to he would come seek you out wherever you were. For whatever reason he was letting you play this out. Perhaps he found it humorous or maybe he understood why you were doing it and was giving you that space. It was impossible to say which was correct.

All you knew was that the thought of seeing him made your skin alight and your legs tremble. Honestly, knowing that he could sniff out your desire made you feel aroused more often now. It was like when your foot was itchy but you didn’t realise it was itchy until you thought about it. If he had never said anything you probably would have been fine.

You didn’t know how long you could keep this up. Something had to give.

Then one day you were walking about the mountain when you heard Sylus coming down the same hall. You panicked and ducked into the closest room to you. At the time you hadn’t noticed the X carved over the archway.

You ducked inside, pressing yourself into the shadows waiting for him to pass. You stared into the darkness of the room and slowly your eyes adjusted. It looked like an empty spacious room. The only thing you could make out was the glint of metal further in.

Your curiosity got the better of you, no longer worried about Sylus coming down the hall and got closer. In the wane light you were able to make out what was there. It was an old chest. No shiny adornments on it or anything, just plain wood and iron.

Why was this in here all by itself? You glanced back at the doorway. You didn’t hear Sylus. He must have passed by.

Slowly you hefted the lid, the hinges creaked loudly as if they had not been moved in years. Perhaps they hadn’t. You had to squint and angle the chest towards the light from the doorway but you could make out a few things inside. Most of it was some old books and clothes but there were two things that caught your eye. One was a large piece of what looked to be an eggshell and the other was a shining gold pendant. Pendant was the wrong word. The disc you held in your hands was as wide as a dinner plate on a chain as thick as a rope.

It was dazzling. It almost seemed to glow in the darkness, a thin shine of red coming off of it. The design on the face was simple but masterfully done. Swirling designs crisscrossed the surface into some looping star shape.

Why would Sylus keep something like this in here and not the hoard room?

“Are you done snooping?”

Shit!

You froze, dropping the pendant back in the chest and closing the lid. Sylus was standing behind you, silhouetted in the door. You couldn’t see his face against the shadows but the ice in his voice was indicator enough that he was pissed. “I told you not to come in here.”

“Sorry.” you blurted out. “It was an accident.”

“And was it an accident when you went through my things?” he stalked further into the room.

“No…I just saw the chest and my curiosity got the best of me. I’m sorry. Really I am.”

“Well, I hope it was worth it. Now get out.”

In all the time that you had been here, this was the only time you had heard him genuinely angry. Your heart clenched and you held your arms close to your chest.

“Yes, master.” you squeaked out and fled the room as fast as your feet could carry you.

You did not see Sylus for the rest of the day and this time it wasn’t because you were avoiding him. He had disappeared from the mountain again. The room, when you walked past it later, had been blocked off with a mountain of rubble. Whatever that room was, whatever was in that chest meant, it was clear that Sylus did not want you in there again.

You felt guilty about looking through his things. There was no excusing your actions and if you had been smarter about it you would have never touched that chest. You would have recognized you were in a room you shouldn’t have been in and left the moment you were sure Sylus was gone. But now he was angry with you and you did not know how that would affect things between you.

This was arguably worse than the whole masturbation debacle. At least you knew where you stood with him regarding that. Now, you were scared. Not of him. You didn’t think he would hurt you. But you were worried that he would put you at a distance now. What if all you ever were to him from here on out was a servant? What if he decided he didn’t want you around anymore? Would he send you back to the village?

“Damn it.” you sighed. “I have to talk to him.”

You searched the mountain but like you had suspected earlier, he was missing. Probably gone on another flight. You went to the entrance and sat down. He’d come back at some point and you’d be waiting.

~~~

Sylus had been trying to give you the space you so desperately wanted after what happened in the hot spring. You were embarrassed and nervous, he expected that. But he had been sure you would get over it in time. So he let you hide and run, partly amused by how nervous you were.

Then he had caught you in that room. There were few places he didn’t want you treading, most of them were for safety reasons. The room that you went into though trying to hide from him was one that he had marked off for personal reasons. What he kept in there was for his eyes only. At least it was until you opened that chest.

He had seen what you were holding and all he wanted was for you to drop it. Forget everything you had seen.

When you looked at him…what he saw…what he smelled even. You were scared. Scared of him. The sour stench followed you out of the room. He didn’t want that. You were never supposed to be scared of him.

He went to the chest, checking the contents inside and slammed the lid shut once more. He then blocked up the entrance so no one could enter again. There was no reason for anyone to be going in there. Never again.

That sour stench of your fear was still in the hall. “Damn it.” he didn’t want to be here when the mountain smelled like this. It only reminded him of that terrified look you had thrown at him. You had looked so helpless, so small. The only time he had seen you look half as scared was when you first came to the mountain in that ridiculously extravagant dress and the makeup that had sweated off your face. But then, that fear had never been directed at him. You had always been so strong and so brave about everything that happened to you.

With one look he was scared that he had destroyed the trust you had put in him. What if you wanted to return to the village now? If you were truly that unhappy he would let you go in an instant. But the mountain would be so quiet without you. He needed to correct this before you were too far gone. But he also needed to clear his own head first.

He stayed out in the sky, flying without direction. He hadn’t noticed how long he had been gone until the sun started to set in the sky. He immediately turned back, hoping that he could catch you before you went to sleep.

It was dark when he returned. The mountain no longer smelled of your fear. And to his surprise, there you were.

You were at the mouth of entrance, propped against the stone wall, eyes closed as you slept. Had you been waiting for him?

“You didn’t need to wait out here,” he murmured to your sleeping face. He shook his head and gently scooped you up into his arms to take you back to the bedroom.

He had just gotten you back to the bedroom when you started to rouse, your eyes opened and squinted up at him. “Sylus? Where did you go?” you said through a yawn.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m back.” he set you on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” you rolled over to keep looking at him.

“I know you are. Go back to sleep.” he pulled the blankets up around you. He turned to leave but you caught him by his hand. “What is it?”

“I really am sorry. I don’t know what it was about that room or that chest that you didn’t want me to see but I do feel bad about going through it. I just…” your hand gripped his tighter, “I guess part of me looked through it because I wanted to know more about you.”

Sylus had not been expecting this. “What do you mean?” he asked, kneeling next to the bed so you were eye level.

“For as long as I’ve been here the most I feel I know about you is your name.” you said. “I don’t feel like I know anything else.”

“You wish to know my past?”

“Not even that.” you sighed, “I just want to know you. If I am to spend the rest of my life here, I may as well know the only person I may ever get to talk to.”

The rest of your life…

You weren’t asking to go back to the village. That’s all that mattered to him.

“That is fair enough.” Sylus said. “You may ask as many questions as you want, in the morning though. Then we can both get to know one another better.”

You smiled, it was sleepy and small but you had smiled at him. “Good.” your eyes closed again.

He looked down and saw your hand was still curled around his claw as you drifted on back to sleep. “What a strange little human you are.”

[paulyenvol6]

Bound by Flame (Chapter 9)

Contains: birth scene, mentions of pain and anxiety

Wordcount: ~2.63k

Masterlist of this story

The next day when Maera opened her eyes she felt a sting in her head. She didn't know if she had woken up because of it but she nevertheless felt tired and closed her heavy eyes again.

Now that she was lying there memories from last night came to her. Some parts of it were a little blurry but of course she could remember the way she had laid in her uncle's arms while the panic had overtaken her senses.

In an instance Maera turned to her side and pulled the blanket back to examine the sheets below her and she let out a quiet desperate cry when she saw the blank fabric that shone brightly without a sign of any blood stains. 37 days it had been now.

Something to her left moved and Maera glanced at her uncle who seemed to wake up at this moment. He turned on his back and then blinked a few times. Then his eyes searched around and when he spotted his niece's face he smirked slightly.

"Good morrow, sweetling," he said with a raspy voice. Very quietly she greeted him back and then attempted to get up.

"Maera?" Daemon stopped her and she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"Some things will be different now, you know that, right? No more wandering around in the caves or in the woods. If you need some fresh air you'll stroll through the gardens of the castle and there's always gonna be me or a guard that I choose with you. And obviously you won't go on a ride on Caraxes in this state."

She hesitated, unable to agree with him. She hated the way he always commanded her as though she was a little child. She was 17 now, a woman grown but Daemon treated her like she was unable to make any choices for herself and she hated it so much. As if Maera couldn't look out for herself… and the child inside of her.

Daemon sensed her indecision and lifted his eyebrows. "Maera? Did you hear me?"

She dropped her gaze to watch her entangled fingers. Daemon lifted himself off the bed at once and walked towards the girl that still refused to meet his eyes. He put a finger below her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Do not test my patience, little doll," he merely hissed and Maera felt torn between keeping up her resistance in order to feel like he didn't have utter control over her life and fearing what her uncle might do if she continued to anger him. Daemon's hand wandered down to her throat and he softly ran his hand over her soft skin.

"I don't want to hurt you, little one," he threatened. "Will you obey me and do as I say? Or will you refuse to listen to my orders?"

She stayed silent for another moment in which her uncle inspected her closely but then with fluttering eyelids she bit her buttom lip.

"I will do as you say."

"Good girl," he smirked. His hand left her neck immediately and he delivered a soft smack to her arse.

"We'll have breakfast now. Afterwards you'll attend your lessons with septa Gina."

Her eyes shot up to him. "What?"

"There're more things you need to learn and she will make sure that you're both properly educated and prepared for childbirth and motherhood."

A shiver went down her spine at his words as she still hadn't gotten used to the fact that she would become a mother soon but Daemon didn't give her time to think about it any longer.

"You will come to her twice a week and you will obey her and learn diligently. Have I made myself clear?"

Maera automatically nodded which her uncle commented with a approving nod as well and he put an arm around her shoulder. "Come now. You need to eat."

9 months later

Maera panted heavily.

She had only walked up a few stairs and felt as if she had just ran around the castle for hours. She held her swollen belly and closed her eyes while she listened to her own unsteady breathing.

But then her peace was disturbed by fast steps up the staircase and Maera was able to recognize Daemon merely by the sound of his steps. He energetically opened the door and his eyes searched for his wife. Once he saw her his face softened and she smiled at him. He walked towards her, leaned down to kiss her hair and then ran his hand over her belly.

"How are you feeling, my love?"

"Exhausted. But fine."

Daemon had spent the morning and noon with his council and his bannermen which had left Maera staying alone in her chambers. Well, not exactly alone but the child inside of her wasn't the most entertaining company right now though it certainly kept her busy. Her back was aching, everything was so much more tiring than usually and walking had become difficult as well. That was why she was beyond happy that Daemon was here now to accompany her in the afternoon and evening.

He pressed another kiss to her brow and Maera closed her eyes giving herself to him.

"How was your morning?" she asked while watching Daemon sit down on a chair next to her.

"Not very exciting. The main concerns were the ongoing conflict with House Blackberry and the fishermen complaining about the gods know what… Nothing you need to worry about though."

He caressed the side of her face and couldn't help but admire his niece's beauty in this wonderfully lit room. Her silky silver hair shone brightly and almost seemed to glisten and there was a flushness on her skin that probably had been caused by her exhausting trip up here to their chambers.

"You should've asked for a servant to help you upstairs," Daemon therefore spoke next.

She shook her head. "It's fine. It's just that everything is so tiring now. And aching," she sighed and leaned back in her chair trying to adjust herself and her round belly.

"You look pretty," her uncle suddenly spoke and Maera gave him a little smile. But her smile faded when he suddenly stood up again.

"Where are you going, uncle?"

He stopped and once more kissed her soft hair.

"I'm sorry. But I have to go again to meet with Ser Igor. I just wanted to stop by and look after you."

She swiftly reached out to grab his hand in an attempt to make him change his mind.

"Please don't. Please stay with me, Daemon."

Her eyes begged him and the rogue prince sighed deeply. "Maera…"

She tightened her grip around his hands and tried to give him her biggest and most innocent puppy eyes.

"Please," she breathed but then Daemon tilted his head and kissed her hand.

"I'm sorry. I'll be back soon, love, I promise."

Maera dropped her gaze and thought about what she would do now. It was so incredibly boring to sit around here all day. All she could do was read and stare out of the window but after hours of doing it it became boring as well. Sometimes Maera could pass the time by speaking with her handmaidens but right now Marleya, Elaessa and Lusia weren't with her and probably had some place else to be.

"I'll make it quick, little one. I promise," he determindely whispered and held the side of her face to make her look up to him. "Then I'll be there for you."

She slightly nodded but Daemon could clearly see her dissatisfaction, which he couldn't do anything about though. He had to get to this meeting to discuss the defend forces of the castle after Ser Igor had approached him last week to report that he needed more archers and consequently more recruits. So as much as it hurt him to see his little girl looking so sad he kissed her hand one last time and then turned around.

He was just about to step outside when Maera suddenly sharply inhaled. Daemon turned around at once and when he saw the painful expression on her face he walked back to her sitting figure.

"Maera. What is it?" he asked sounding alarmed.

His wife closed her eyes and he could hear her breathing going unsteadily. "Maera. Talk to me."

Her eyes sprang open and her face ashaned.

"It hurts. Daemon, it hurts, I think… Oh fuck."

Her hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly that her knuckels turned white and she pressed her teeth together. Her uncle reacted immediately and sprinted to the door.

"Get the maesters. At once," he shouted through the half-closed door and just hoped that some knight guarding the door had heard him. Then he hasted back to his niece and knelt beside her.

"Maera. It's alright, everything will be alright. The maesters and the handmaidens are gonna come and help you."

She threw her head back in pain and let out a cry. "I can't Daemon. I can't. Oh gods…"

"Yes you can."

His hand held hers tightly while she growled and squeezed her eyes and Daemon just prayed that the maesters would be here soon. She would labour now. She would deliver their child and right now the rogue prince was torn between feeling excited and joyful but also scared that something would go wrong. He  remembered all too well how his sister by law had lost her life while giving birth to Maera's brother who had died shortly after as well and he couldn't help but suddenly fear for his niece.

Then the door sprang open and to Daemon's relief three maesters as well as his wife's handmaidens rushed in and ran towards Maera. Elaessa and Lusia helped her up and guided her to their bed all while Daemon was still walking beside her and held her hand. They helped his niece climb on it and then took their places around her but Daemon stayed in his position next to her, determined not to leave her side. Her hand gripped his tightly and she showed no sign of letting go either.

The maesters lifted Maera's skirts and one of them leaned over her so her eyes found his.

"You need to push, princess. Hard."

She panted and seemed a little better right now so she nodded panicky and Daemon saw the sweat gathering on her forehead. Then another cry left her mouth and her face was drawn with pain while the prince felt like she was crushing his hand. All the handmaidens and maesters were scampering around her, fetching water and washclothes, talking at her and trying to sooth her and for a moment Daemon felt overwhelmed.

"Breathe clamly, princess," said Maester Ando. She seemingly listened to the people around her, eager to make this incredible pain pass as quickly and easily as possible but Maera still squirmed and screamed for the next hour until the babe finally came.

"It's coming, princess. Go on. Push!"

A heart-wrenching cry cut through the air and by now Daemon couldn't feel his hand anymore but he didn't care. She sobbed and screamed but then after a few more minutes it suddenly stopped and her noises became more quiet. Still crying, her head dropped to her chest and Daemon enclosed his wife's hand with both his hands.

"Maera. My love, are you okay?"

She managed to get her head to nod and Daemon inhaled deeply. He kept her hand in his and then he heard the maester's voice behind him.

"Congratulations, my prince. It's a boy."

Daemon slowly turned around and watched as Maester Ando placed the small bundle in his arms. He had wrinkled skin, and puffy blue eyes that the little boy squeezed together. His tiny nose moved as if he was trying to figure out whether he liked Daemon based on his scent. The prince smiled and slowly cradled the babe.

"Please give him to me," Maera suddenly whispered and Daemon lifted his gaze to his wife. She looked exhausted and in pain but her eyes were hopeful. He nodded softly and placed the boy on her breast. Maera cried out only that this time she smiled while doing it and her eyes were fixed on her son.

He was the prettiest thing she'd ever seen. So tiny and vulnerable and yet so beautiful. Her son. She leaned down and kissed his forehead and the babe opened his mouth as if he wanted to tell her something. Maera felt her husband coming closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"You did so wonderful, darling."

His breathy words sounded like honey in her ears and she felt so emotional and overwhelmed with everything that all she could do was cry.

"H-He's s-so pretty," she brought out and her husband nodded laughing. Then his voice became quiet again.

"I would like to name him Baelon. After my father."

And Maera smiled happily without turning her eyes away from the babe.

Maera spent the rest of the day in bed with Daemon at her side all the time. She was hugging and cradling Baelon as though she wanted to make sure that no one was able to take him away from her while Daemon made sure that she was fine.

He brought her water and food and let her crouch against his chest. Soon she was so tired that she could barely hold her eyes open which her uncle noticed and he decided that she should rest now. So Daemon gently took his son from her arms which at first she commented with a dissatisfied moan but she was too exhausted to refuse and instead sank into the cushions.

The rogue prince gave Baelon to a wet nurse and when he climbed on the bed next to his wife she was already fast asleep. He stroke her sweaty hair and watched her steady breathing with relief for a while and then found some peaceful rest as well.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next days were rather uneventful. Maera was recovering from the draining birth and spent the hours in bed most of the time holding her son. Of course Daemon had to fulfil his obligations and keep the castle in order but he tried his best to be by his wife's side as often as possible and made sure to be affectionate and caring when he was with her.

He was filled with love and adoration for both Maera and their son and when he looked at her he felt like he was about to burst with delight for her. How could his brother ever say that there wasn't any love for her inside of him? He would kill for her. He had already killed for her. He would slay her enemies and burn whoever stood in her way or attempted to harm her. Maera was his alone and if he had to burn down the world until only the two of them were left he'd gladly do it.

It was a profane obsession the rogue prince had. He wanted to claim her, own her and kill anyone who looked at her for too long. He wanted to be the only one she thought about, the only one who could make her smile and who protected her. He wanted her to be entirely dependent on him so she would need him. And that was why Daemon was there for her as much as he could and held her in his arms at night. Maera seemed happy which was proof for him that what he was doing was good and he had never felt more proud and reassured about his choice to make her his wife. She was meant for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@smashee0789 @classicsimpforaaronwarner @hangmanscoming @ninihrtss @coffeebooksrain18 @aleemendoza2425-blog @chiminies-noona

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 11

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

The weather is perfect for an outdoor party, not too hot despite it being summer, so Isla’s parents lucked out for their anniversary party. The sun is shining, though it’s not blistering hot as it begins its descent into the evening, and there’s a pleasant breeze that teases Isla’s skin, exposed thanks to the summer dress she’s wearing. Much to her relief, all of the dessert she had ordered had arrived exactly when it should have, decorating the dessert table near the bar.

The decorations included gold and white balloons tied to the tables and chairs, two number balloons that read 20 in front of a backdrop of the same color theme with a banner above that says Happy Anniversary. Along with the desserts, the table also holds small bottles of bubbles for guests as party favors to enjoy throughout the nice that has Mike & Anna’s 20th written on them. There’s a live band that plays music while everyone mingles, two bartenders serving the guests as Isla’s parents greet and thank people for coming.  

Isla and Kie’s friends were invited as well, along with their families; it’s majority Kooks, with some Pogues sprinkled in—and Kie had, very specifically, warned their friends to be on their best behavior and not get into it with any of the Kooks. As long as they keep away from each other throughout the party, things should be fine. The last thing anyone needs is a fight breaking out during her parents’ anniversary party.

“Sarah’s here,” Cleo says, looking past Isla’s shoulder as she bites into a cupcake.

The group of them are by the dessert table, idly eating and enjoying the music. Isla’s heart jumps as she turns to look, her gaze immediately landing on Rafe as he arrives with his family. He’s in a simple blue polo and beige pants, sunglasses covering his eyes, and Isla bites the inside of her cheek at the sight of him. Isla also sees her parents approach the Camerons to greet them, just as she feels a nudge to her side.

“Come on,” Kie says with a sigh. “You know Mom’s gonna want us to go say hi.” Glancing over at John B, she adds with a teasing grin, “Don’t worry, we’ll bring your girlfriend around.”

He rolls his eyes, the wind dancing through his tousled hair. “Thank you so much,” he says dryly.

Kie hooks her arm with Isla’s and pulls her along, nearly making her stumble thanks to the wedges she’s wearing, the necklaces she’s layered tinkling together as she moves. Her sister is in sneakers so with her heels, Isla’s the same height as Kie, which she finds both ridiculous and hilarious.

They approach their parents and the Camerons, and Isla smiles at Sarah before she notices the slight shift in Rafe’s head and Isla swears, despite the sunglasses covering his eyes, he’s looking right at her. She can feel it in the way her skin prickles with awareness and Isla has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her smile from growing. With a glance at Kie, she sees her sister not even acknowledge Rafe, which isn’t surprising, and instead is offering polite smiles to Sarah’s parents, and more genuine ones to Sarah and Wheezie.

“The place looks beautiful,” Rose comments, looking around the decorated area.

“All thanks to my girls,” Anna says, smiling at Isla and Kie. “Kie helped with the decorations, and Isla personally took care of all the dessert and made sure it got here on time from Chapel Hill.”

The mention of that has Isla’s gaze subtly flickering to Rafe. His head is dipped as he fixes the watch on his wrist, but she sees the way his eyes flick up from over the rim of his sunglasses, blue eyes meeting green as, in that moment, they both reminisce about their day together. A secret between them among their families and Isla’s cheeks flush, forcing herself to look away before anyone else notices.

“Sarah,” Kie says, nodding her head to where the others are.

While the parents talk—Wheezie having wandered off to find kids her age—Sarah and Kie begin walking to where their friends are, and Isla suppresses a sigh as she slowly turns to follow them. Her gaze meets Rafe’s once more, and he shoots her a small smile, a mutual understanding between them that as much as they want, they can’t exactly hang out at her parents’ party.

Even still, as she walks off with her friends, Isla feels a tug in her chest, as though her body is begging her to go back to Rafe. But she can’t, and she forces herself not to look affected as she rejoins her friends. “This is all so Kook-central,” JJ says, blue eyes looking around at the several guests around.

Kie rolls her eyes. “Enjoy the free food, JJ,” she tells him with a laugh, picking up a cupcake and offering it to him.

JJ takes it with an incomprehensible mutter. “How am I supposed to keep it down when Top’s stupid face is right there?” he asks, even as he takes a bite of the cupcake, blue frosting smearing at the corner of his mouth.

Isla and the others follow JJ’s gaze where Topper is standing at the other side of the party, sipping a drink and standing with a few other Kooks that Sarah went to school with—including Rafe. They’re chatting among themselves, sipping their drinks, and Isla doesn’t miss the way Topper looks back at them and glares. Specifically at Sarah and John B, because apparently he hasn’t moved on despite it being over a year since Sarah started dating John B.

“He’s never gonna let it go, is he?” Pope muses, seemingly thinking the same as Isla.

“One can only hope,” Sarah huffs, turning to give her back to her ex as John B’s arm goes around her shoulders.

Isla sees the way Topper’s glare tightens before he looks away, taking a long sip of his drink. Unable to help herself, Isla’s gaze slides to Rafe, who stands leaning back against the railing that separates the area the party is in from the sidewalk leading up to the dock. His sunglasses hang from the neckline of his shirt, elbows resting on the railing behind him as he laughs at something Kelce says.

She looks away quickly before she gets caught staring—gawking, admiring—and tunes back into the conversation in time to hear Cleo ask her and Kie, “When are your parents leaving?”

As his anniversary gift to their mom, Isla’s dad surprised her mom with two tickets for a long weekend away in Vermont, from this coming Friday morning to Monday evening. Their parents don’t often go away, since they like to be in town for the restaurant, but between Isla and Kie and the restaurant’s assistant manager, Holly, and the fact that it’s their anniversary, they’re making an exception to go to Vermont for four days.

“This Friday,” Kie answers with an excited wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Party?” JJ asks, perking up with brightened eyes.

Both Isla and Kie shoot him a look, simultaneously responding, “Hell, no.”

As much as Isla and her sister love going to parties, hosting them is a whole monster that neither of them particularly enjoy. Because while the party itself could be fun, the aftermath of cleaning up isn’t something Isla and her sister want to deal with at all, even if they recruit their friends to help.

JJ blows a raspberry, shoulders slumping. “Lame,” he remarks, laughing when Kie smacks his arm and takes another bite of the cupcake. “Shit, these are delicious,” he adds with an appreciative mumble.

“We can get them for your birthday,” Kie offers and Isla suppresses a knowing smile, her eyes meeting Sarah’s knowingly. Jeez, Isla wishes her sister and JJ would just get their heads out of their asses and get together already. Especially when JJ’s gaze softens ever so slightly at Kie’s offer, his smile turning appreciative. Isla is certain she’s only seen him smile like that at Kie. 

John B reaches around Cleo and snatches up one of the bubble bottles, twisting the top off to reveal the wand. Pointing it upwards, he blows and several bubbles of all sizes form out, Isla grinning as they seem to rain down on mostly her and Sarah. 

Isla holds a hand forward, grin widening as a bubble lands in her palm, lingering for a second before it pops. “Pass me one,” she says to Cleo, who’s standing closest to the table. 

Cleo tosses her one bottle, keeping another for herself, and soon each of them have their own bottle and Isla grins, taking a step back as she pulls out the wand and tilts her chin back to blow some out. Her eyes watch with childlike fascination, the rainbow of colors reflecting in the bubbles as they float, some popping quickly while others dance along the breeze, several in the air thanks to the whole group blowing the bubbles.

Sarah faces her, her own grin wide and small wand in hand, and she and Isla laugh as they blow bubbles at each other, squinting her eyes as one pops a few inches away from her face, though it doesn’t sting her eyes, fortunately. Giggling, Sarah says, “Maybe your parents decided to have these to distract us from starting shit.”

Isla snorts out a laugh, shaking her head. “Smart thinking on their part,” she says, dipping the wand back into the bottle. As she pulls it out again, Isla’s gaze flicks to the left, feeling the weight of someone’s gaze on her, and her heart trips to see Rafe staring at her. Or she assumes, given the fact that he’s wearing sunglasses, but he’s facing this way. And the way her skin prickles, she just knows he’s watching her. The distance between them feels too great and—

All of a sudden, her view of Rafe is obstructed as her mom appears in view. “Hey, honey,” she greets with a breathless smile. “Can you do me a favor?” she asks, digging into her purse and pulling out her car keys. “I left my jacket in the car, can you bring it?”

“Jacket?” Isla blinks, spinning the top closed as she lets out a chuckle. “Isn’t it a little warm for a jacket?”

Anna scoffs, holding out the keys. “It’s not a jacket-jacket. More like a lace cover up. Pulls the outfit together and, plus, it’s going to get a little chilly when the sun goes down.” Her dark eyes give her a look over, as well as Kie standing behind her, chatting with the others. “You girls should’ve brought something to wear over, too.”

Isla laughs, taking the keys. “Alright, alright. I’ll get it.” Glancing at her friends, she tells them, “I’ll be right back.”

The gravel crunches under her shoes as she walks towards the main opening of the party area, walking around the metal fence separating the area with the sidewalk and heading towards the parking lot. It’s pretty crowded, almost every spot filled, not just with people attending Isla’s parents’ party but for the restaurants around and since it’s tourist season, padding boating on the water nearby.

Her dad’s pick up truck is a few rows away and Isla weaves between the other cars until she reaches it, walking around to the passenger side. Squinting slightly against the sunlight, she opens the passenger door and frowns when she doesn’t see her mom’s cover up before her gaze flickers and sees it in the backseat.

Huffing, Isla shuts the door and opens the back passenger door, leaning in to reach for the lace cover-up towards the other end, stepping up on the runner to be closer. A breeze tickles the back of her thighs and Isla reaches back to make sure she’s not flashing anyone—not that she thinks anyone could even see anything given the tons of cars around. Once the cover-up is in hand, Isla moves backwards and puts her foot back on the ground, gravel crunching once more, and is about to step away to close the door when a hand suddenly lands on her hip.

Isla freezes for a split second, feeling the warmth of someone behind her, before a familiar voice says, “Anyone ever tell you yellow’s your color?”

A shiver rushes down her spine, a smile tugging up the corners of her lips as Rafe’s hand slides from her hip to her front, resting on her stomach as he pulls her to him. His touch is warm, burning her deliciously through the thin material of her dress as she feels his solid torso pressing against her back. 

He makes her pulse quicken as Isla tilts her head to the side the slightest, sighing happily when she feels his lips skim the side of her neck. “I think you’re the first,” she replies, her voice surprisingly not as breathless as she feels at the softness of his lips. 

“Hm,” he hums and she can sense the smile as he kisses her neck, spreading heat throughout her body. It’s risky, being here like this with him. But they’re on the other side of the truck from the party, and the height of it blocks them anyway, if anyone were to look. Rafe’s hand slides even further to her other hip, tightening his hold to turn her around, and Isla smiles as she finally looks up at his face, sunglasses still covering his eyes.

She watches as his own smile curves up his lips, the sight making her pulse quicken as his strong arm wraps around her waist, holding her close. Her free hand slides up his chest, the material of his shirt soft, until her arm is loosely wrapped around his neck. “You look pretty good in blue,” she tells him through a smile.

Rafe arches an eyebrow, dipping his chin so their eyes can meet over the glasses. “Just pretty good?” he asks, still smiling.

Isla’s smile widens. With her mom’s cover-up draped across her arm, she reaches her hand up and swiftly swipes his sunglasses off. Rafe squints briefly against the sunlight, his smile remaining as he watches Isla put the Ray Bans on her face. Warmth spreads through her chest at the way his eyes soften, watching Isla give a sly grin. “Very handsome,” she corrects before lifting her chin. “How do I look?”

Rafe’s hand rests on her lower back, blue eyes looking over her face, his bangs grazing past his eyebrows. “Very much like a girl I want to kiss.”

Her heart skips a beat or two, her fingers teasing his hair at the back of his head. She glances over her shoulder, though the truck obscures her view of anything. “We don’t have much time,” Isla says as she turns back to face him.

Rafe is already leaning towards her, Isla’s grin growing the closer he gets as she takes his sunglasses and slides them up to rest on the top of her head. His hand on her back increases pressure and his gaze drops to her lips, heat slipping through her veins as Rafe’s voice drops low when he murmurs, “Any time with you is worth it.”

He seals his words by pressing his lips to hers, barely giving Isla any time to think of what he just said, too distracted by the way he kisses her. Isla’s stomach presses against his, humming happily against Rafe’s lips as he leans towards her, and Isla’s fingers thread through his hair at the back of his head as Rafe moves her backward until she’s leaning against the edge of the backseat.

When his tongue slides into her mouth, a low moan escapes Isla, and it seems to push Rafe in moving his hand that’s resting at the small of her back until his arm winds itself around her, just under her ass, and Isla gasps out a laugh into the kiss when he suddenly lifts her just enough to rest her on the seat. Rafe leans forward, ducking into the truck, and all thoughts eddie out of Isla’s head as she parts her legs to let his lean body fit between them where he stands next to the truck, and Isla’s heart thunders wildly at the way Rafe’s tongue teases hers.

This is so risky, Isla knows, but God, she can’t bring herself to care when Rafe’s kisses make her head spin so wildly. Anyone could walk by and spot them, but it doesn’t really matter right now. She’s already addicted to the taste of him, has already memorized the shape and feel of his lips as she sucks on his lower lip, relishing in the deep groan he releases. His hands slide along the sides of her thighs, somehow both heat and goosebumps spreading through her skin in response to his touch, and her own fingers tighten in his hair.

“It drives me fucking crazy,” Rafe mumbles, Isla gasping against his lips when she feels his fingers press into the flesh of her thighs. Her heart is running a mile a minute, heat dampening her underwear at having him so close and desperately needing him—but knowing now definitely isn’t the time. It’s all she can think until Rafe continues, “Seeing you like this and not being able to even fucking talk to you.”

“Like this?” Isla questions breathlessly as Rafe’s lips trail kisses down the line of her jaw, her head tilting back and eyes shut as she enjoys his kisses.

The air hitches in her throat when Rafe kisses in that spot right where her jaw and neck meet. “Beautiful,” Rafe answers, grip on her tightening, pulling her close. 

Isla moans as his teeth teasingly nip at her skin, and she cups his face and brings it back up so she can kiss him again. “You’re tired of keeping this a secret already?” she asks, her words practically a whisper. “We only just started.”

Their kiss breaks for a moment and Isla’s eyes flutter open to see Rafe looking down at her with his own hooded eyes. Her heart launches to her throat when she sees his kiss swollen lips, slightly glittering with the shine of her lip gloss having rubbed off on him. The sight only dampens her underwear even more, breathing heavily against him. His blue eyes have darkened and, God, the way he’s looking at her, like he wants to swallow her whole. Oh, she’d let him.

“I know,” Rafe replies, his voice roughened. One of his hands slides away from the hem of her dress, coming up to brush her dark hair out of her face. Her racing heart melts when his knuckles gently graze along her cheekbones, watching her with a look that has her sliding her hand out of his hair and resting at the side of his neck.

Some of the haze of lust fades away as Rafe straightens, Isla sitting on the edge of the seat sideways, his body still standing between her legs. “You changing your mind?” she asks him with a slight tilt of her head. Her stomach knots slightly at the idea of Rafe having any kind of regret when it comes to her and this relationship.

His gaze snaps back to hers, forehead creasing. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly, the conviction in his voice relaxing Isla as she rubs her lips together for a second. “It’s just. . . An adjustment,” he finishes with a flash of a half smile.

“Dating a Pogue?” Isla supplies with a small, teasing smirk.

He huffs out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “No,” he says, and that alone makes her heart swell. Such a small thing, but it somehow holds a lot of significance for her. Meeting her gaze, Rafe clarifies, “Wanting someone so badly and not being able to kiss you whenever the hell I want.”

“It’s hard for me too,” Isla tells him with a gentle smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. In the distance, she can hear the party going on, the chatter of people overpowered by the music playing by the band. But her gaze is on Rafe. “It’s only temporary though, right? Just for now. Just until the time is right to tell everyone.”

Truth be told, Isla isn’t a hundred percent certain when the time will be right to tell her friends about her and Rafe. She wants her and Rafe to be seeing each other for a bit, to be in an established relationship between them, before she tells them. So they don’t think she’s lost her mind, or think she’s only hooking up with him. No matter when she tells them, or how, no doubt the Pogues will have something or another to say.

It’s a thought that makes her more anxious than she’d like to think, trying her best not to dwell on it too hard. The fact of the matter is, Isla just wants to enjoy being with Rafe, to savor the excitement that comes with sneaking around, and get to know him more and more while they’re alone in their bubble. This thing between them, tentatively unlabeled but quickly heading in the direction she wants it to, is still very new and they both are learning to navigate it. She doesn’t want to put a timer on things as to when they can be public—when she will tell her friends. And she hopes Rafe is in the same mindset as her. Though, as with any healthy relationship, open communication is where it all comes down to, isn’t it?

Throat working briefly, Isla continues, “I know it’s annoying to keep this a secret—” She trails a finger along the sharp curve of his jaw until it’s under his chin, tipping his face towards her, smiling gently when his softening eyes meet hers. “And that it’d be much easier to be with someone you don’t have to sneak ar—”

“What’d I tell you before?” Rafe asks with an arch of his eyebrow. “I don’t care that we have to hide, because I know it’s important for you to find the right time to tell my sister and your friends.” He smiles then, giving a one shouldered shrug. “I’m just looking forward to the day we can do whatever we want, whenever we want. No matter how far down the road that is.”

Her heart swells. “Yeah?”

Rafe dips his chin in a nod, pressing a swift kiss to her lips. “Yeah,” he answers, pulling back with a smile.

She relaxes even more, his reassuring words providing more comfort than she expects. “Well, in that case,” she starts slowly, smile growing as she shifts her hand so it’s cupping his jaw, using her thumb to wipe at his lips to get rid of the glitter from her lip gloss still on his lips. “How ’bout another date?” Isla tilts her head, briefly biting her bottom lip when she sees the way his eyebrows flick upwards in curiosity. “Our third one,” she adds with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

“Third?” he asks with a laugh, moving back so Isla can get out of the truck, her mom’s cover up in hand as she fixes the skirt of her dress. As Isla takes off her sunglasses and hands them back to Rafe, he asks, “When’d we have the second one?”

She laughs as he taps a closed fist on top of his folded sunglasses. “I think our day in the park counts as a second date,” she muses.

Rafe shoots her a flat expression. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she shrugs with a grin. “But it’s my turn to plan the date this time.”

His expression shifts to one of amused curiosity, his smile making her heart flutter. As always. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, his hand reached out so his fingers lightly grasp her chin. Her skin sizzles when he touches her, air locking in her throat when his thumb gently wipes at the skin just beneath her bottom lip. She has a feeling he’s wiping away her smeared lip gloss. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, wanting to lean into him and kiss him again. But she can hear the party, and no doubt her parents and friends will begin wondering where she is. “Friday night?”

Her parents leave in the morning and she has a shift at The Wreck, but it’s not a closing shift. She also knows for a fact that Kie is going to be at the movies at the park with Cleo, because they both have a wild crush on Dev Patel and Monkey Man is playing, and while Isla doesn’t know about the others, she knows they’ll be busy, too. It’d be the perfect night for her and Rafe to hang out.

“I’m down,” Rafe says with a grin. “Text me the details?”

She nods, running her fingers through her hair before gently rubbing at her lips. Her purse is back at the party, so she can’t fix her lip gloss, so she just hopes for the best as she asks Rafe, “I look okay?”

Rafe’s gaze lingers on her face, flickering around as though he’s watching every feature—from the curve of her eyelashes to the gold nose ring to the pout of her lips. It only makes her stomach flutter. “Gorgeous,” he says, voice low and reverent and enough to make that flutter into a hurricane. Rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, Rafe looks past her for a second before saying, “You go ahead. I’ll, uh, be back in a bit.”

His eyes drop down for a moment and Isla’s eyebrows raise as she follows his gaze until it stops at his pants, noting the very prominent bulge that has Isla’s throat drying in realization. The heat that had melted through her veins returns in that second, desire tightening her throat as she forces her gaze to flicker back up to him. When she meets his gaze again, he doesn’t look embarrassed—not that he should—but the way he’s got a ghost of a smirk has her pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth, because she knows he knows exactly what’s going through her head.

“Um, yeah, sounds good,” Isla says with a quick clearing of her throat, cheeks flushing deeply that she’s sure she resembles a tomato. She also does her very best not to think about how, so far, they’ve only just kissed and she can’t wait for the moment they finally get to do more. “I’m, um, gonna go.”

Rafe’s smirk widens and Isla can feel his gaze on her as she shuts the truck door and locks it. When she looks up at him, Isla shakes her head, rolling her lips into her mouth briefly when he chuckles. “Don’t look at me like that,” she mumbles, lightly smacking the sleeve of her mom’s cover up against Rafe’s chest as she moves to go past him.

He laughs again and Isla gasps slightly when his arm slides around her once more, hand on her stomach, and stops her long enough for him to duck his head forward and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “See you there,” he murmurs against her skin before pulling back, and oh boy, the butterflies in her belly belong to him.

Isla walks back to the party before she convinces herself to stay with him, the music and chatter growing louder the closer she gets. She swears her lips still tingle from kissing Rafe, struggling to bite back a smile as she easily finds her mom talking to some guests. 

“Thanks, baby,” Anna says with a smile as she takes the cover up, before doing a double take. Her forehead creases, turning away from the others to face Isla fully. “You okay? You look flushed,” she adds, lightly pressing the back of her hand against Isla’s cheek.

Isla blinks, forcing her eyes not to widen in surprise as to not give away anything. Sure, her mom knew that Isla went on a date with Rafe, and her mom’s been great about keeping things quiet—especially from Kiara. Still, Isla isn’t exactly ready to tell her mom that the reason for her oh-so-flushed cheeks is because she has just finished making out with Rafe in her dad’s truck.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Isla assures with a laugh that she hopes doesn’t sound too forced.

Anna pulls her hand back, looking at her for a moment. Her gaze flicks around before stepping towards Isla, dipping her chin even as her gaze remains locked with Isla’s. “I know Kie and your friends have some issues with Rafe,” her mom whispers, which Isla isn’t expecting her to say. “Everything good on that front?”

Isla’s gaze flicks to where her friends are, sitting at a table now and talking amongst themselves, keeping their distance away from the Kooks and enjoying their little bubble. She loves that bubble. Even if, right now, there’s a fear of popping it because of her evolving relationship with Rafe.

“Mom,” Isla starts, shooting her mom a pointed look and putting on a smile so anyone watching doesn’t think anything is amiss. “I love you, but you don’t need to worry about anything. Let’s not have this specific conversation right at this moment?”

Realization is quick to dawn on her mother, thankfully. She laughs and nods, much to Isla’s relief. “Got it.”

The rest of the party goes on easily, with Isla and Kie sitting with their parents during the dinner. Before it was served, though, their dad had made a beautiful speech about their mom, expressed his love for Anna and their daughters, and Isla had definitely teared up during it. While Kie wrapped both of her arms around Isla’s shoulder and pulled her in, sitting next to each other, Isla had wiped her nose with a tissue and her gaze had somehow found Rafe’s, where he sat with his family. And with his sunglasses off, she saw that he was looking directly at her, and when he noted the tears in her eyes, had given her a small smile, his own gaze softening, and while Isla hugs her sister back, she also kind of wishes she had Rafe’s hand to hold, too.

That’s not possible, though. Not yet, anyway.

Later on in the night, Isla’s laughter rings out as JJ gives her a twirl on the makeshift dance floor, the band playing a cover of Check Yes Juliet, and the skirt of her dress flares around her as she does. Her friends surround them while other guests dance as well, the sun having long since set and the fairy lights that are hanging above them illuminating the area beautifully. With the sun gone and the sky darkened, it is a little cooler out, but Isla’s having too much dancing with her friends—and dancing off all of the food she happily ate during the dinner.

JJ spins her again and Isla laughs, throwing her arm around his shoulders once she’s straightened. “Okay, okay, I’m gonna get dizzy,” she says over the music, her other hand finding Kie’s and pulling her sister over, her other arm around Kie’s shoulders as the three of them dance—or jump—to the music. When she glances to her left, Isla notes Kie’s gaze lingering on JJ, her smile a little distance, and Isla leans towards her and whispers, “Maybe let him twirl you.” Kie looks at her like she’s insane and Isla has to stifle a laugh. “Or maybe not.”

God, these two idiots.

“Sarah.” Isla’s gaze snaps to Rafe making his way towards their group, standing taller than everyone else. Because of her arm around JJ, she can feel his shoulders tense at Rafe’s arrival and with one glance, Isla sees the way JJ’s jaw clenches, blue eyes trained on Rafe, who is focused on his sister. Sarah turns to look at him, John B’s arms around her, though her smile doesn’t falter as she looks at her brother. “We’re heading out. Are you coming with us or staying with John B?”

“No, no, I’m coming,” Sarah tells him. 

Rafe dips his chin in a nod as Sarah turns to give John B a kiss and, right then, though Rafe doesn’t fully face her to his right, his eyes still meet Isla’s. Everyone around them dances, other than her friends, really, but Isla feels her stomach flutter, the heat of her surroundings nothing compared to what ignites when Rafe just looks at her. It’s dangerous, given that they’re around all of her friends, but her heart hasn’t gotten the memo.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Sarah says to the rest of them with a smile before nodding her chin at Rafe. “Let’s go.”

Rafe’s gaze darts away from Isla, and she misses the weight of it as the brother and sister make their way out of the crowd, Rafe easily parting the people around them and Sarah following in his wake. As the band changes songs and Isla sees Rafe disappear from view, JJ huffs from next to her. “Can’t stand that guy.”

Isla blinks before her head turns to him. Ignoring the tightness in her stomach—this time more painful than anything else—she forces out a laugh. “He didn’t even do anything. This time, at least,” she hastily adds, feeling a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Doesn’t matter,” JJ shrugs, running his fingers through his hair while his arm drops from around Isla’s shoulders. “He’s the fucking king of the Kooks. Asshole by default.”

“I thought Ward was the king of the Kooks?” Cleo muses with an arched eyebrow. “Since Sarah was the Kook princess?”

“Yeah, that’d make Rafe prince of the Kooks, right?” Pope pipes in, and the whole conversation seems so surreal that Isla isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or spiral a little, knowing they’re all talking about Rafe.

JJ, though, is a little fed up. “Shut up, y’all know what I meant,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “He’s an asshole. Always has been, let’s leave it at that.”

Isla doesn’t want to leave it at that, but she bites her tongue—literally, feeling the sting as she traps it between her teeth. There’s a tightness in her chest, hearing Rafe being talked about like this. The change is sudden and new and something Isla is readily becoming familiar with—this change of completely disliking when one of her best friends openly calls Rafe an asshole. Especially when she has seen a side of him none of them have—a side she has a very strong feeling is the real him.

It’s been a while since there has been any physical altercation between Pogues and Kooks—one that has involved Rafe, anyway. John B and Topper often get into it, since Topper still can’t seem to accept that Sarah left him and hates to see her with John B, but Rafe has kept his distance from these fights. Since even before he and Isla got together.

Come to think of it, it’s been since Sarah’s birthday—the night that he had told Isla changed his feelings for her. Like he was keeping himself out of trouble with her friends in respect to her, and the notion is sweet and lovely, but not one she can disclose to her friends. She so badly wants to defend him, to tell JJ he’s being ridiculous and unfair since Rafe hasn’t done shit, but that would so obviously raise suspicions. Her friends would think she’s insane for defending him. 

So Isla stays quiet—and hates every bit of it.

[romana-after-dark]

Our Gentle Sins: Part 9

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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Chapter summary: Past. You aren't good enough for Logan. Present. Logan makes you feel good.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Before

“Please stop worrying about me.”

“You’re hurt.”

Logan reached up and took your wrist gently. “Everything is literally already healed, Dolly.”

You look down at him, eyes wet with worry and anxiety as you dabbed at his forehead with a wet washcloth. Since getting back inside, you hadn’t stopped fretting over him. “I know… but you got hurt because of me, please let me just do… something?”

Logan acquiesced, letting go of you so you could clean him. “You didn’t get hurt because of me, doll face.”

“But you did.” Logan took a few tumbles fighting Scott, leaning him fine, but bloody. You’re thankful Logan did hurt Scott for touching you, Scott doesn’t have healing, and you know Logan would feel horrible hurting or even killing Scott over a misunderstanding.

There was silence as he let you care for him even though he was healed. It was for your own sanity, to know you weren’t completely useless. You clean off his handsome face, taking the blood off his skin, even cleaning his hairline and beard with tender touches despite his rough skin. He closed his eyes, leaning into the touch, and you even heard him humming.

You couldn’t meld the two Logan’s in your head, couldn’t make sense of what you saw this evening with the kitty purring in your arms right now. He had been vicious, ready to kill Scott for sliding your dress a mere inch to the side. Yes, it was embarrassing and you didn’t like it but it wasn’t worth disemboweling him for. Logan, the Logan you knew was a gentle giant, soft enough to cradle the duckling on the side of the road you saw while driving home from church with him and taking it to the pond with its family. Your Logan offered to take you to a nondenominational church in the first place so you could pray. Your Logan only hurt you in the throes of a nightmare.

“It wasn’t your fault, Logan. You didn’t mean to hurt me.”

But he shook his head as you sat by his side. ”Not meaning to doesn’t erase the fact you have scars on your back now.”

He was right, it didn’t, but you didn’t really care. “Lo… that doesn’t matter to me. Honestly, it doesn’t. You were having a nightmare, sometimes-”

“I almost killed Rogue. During a nightmare. She came to check on me, just like you did, got stabbed right through the chest.”

Your heart clenched at yes, the thought of sweet Rogue in such pain, but also how much guilt Logan carried around.

“She touched me and was able to absorb my powers, make heal herself… but if that had been anyone else, if that had been you?” He shook his head. “I’d skin myself alive before I hurt you, you know that, don’t you?”

And you nod, because you do. Logan wasn’t like Mark. “I know… that’s why you fought Scott, to protect me.”

Logan chuckles lowly. “I wasn’t just foughting him, Dolly. I was gonna kill him for laying a hand on you.”

This makes you frown. “It wasn’t that serious.”

But he catches your wrist, eyes snapping up to you with a burning intensity you rarely see in the calm brown eyes of his. “You are that serious to me. Scott should know to keep his weasley hands off you.”

You make no attempt to pull away. “But it was a misunderstanding!” You protest. “He thought you hurt me, he wanted to-”

“Scott doesn’t want anything other than to prove he was right about me all along. If it was about the claw marks I wouldn’t even care, because baby doll if I had seen that someone hurt you, they’d be dead.” He stands, imposing height and broad frame should be fearful, but you didn’t fear Logan. Instead, you simply stare up at him. “You hear me, Dolly? Fucking dead. But that’s not why Scott cares. He doesn’t care about you, not like I do. He just hates me.”

You try to make sense of this information. You knew Scott wasn’t fond of Logan; they never interacted outside of necessity, didn’t get sent on missions alone together. Remy was sent on one once because the skillset fit Logan and Scott best, but Remy was there just to function as a peacekeeper, a buffer he said. Still, you didn’t think it was that bad. Scott was kind, friendly, and caring. Logan was the sweetest heart you knew.

Taking his other hand, you prompt him to continue. “Why, Logan? When you’re so…”

“So what?” Logan chuckles. “Insane?”

“Good.”

The words hang in the air, soaking into his skin as if he hoped you could speak it into existence. He didn’t believe it, but you truly, truly did. You’d spend forever making him see what you saw in him.

He simply shakes his head, looking down but not at you. “He’s got a right to hate me, baby dolly. ‘Fraid I’m not the good guy in this story.”

“Logan.” You emphasize his name, pleading with him for clarity. “What happened between you?”

“It ain’t gonna make me look very good in your sweet little eyes. ”A deep breath and a long talk later he told you what happened, how he came to Xavier institute with Rogue, how he fell in love with Jean Grey. That part shocked and carved a pit in your stomach, because she was always someone you compare yourself to, with her beautiful red hair and soft eyes, her thin but strong body curving in a beautiful wave. And she was a mutant. You always fretted about not being a mutant, if that was a turn off for Logan that you were weak, useless, needed to be protected.

Logan laid it out for you, how he knowingly and willingly began an affair with Jean, that she cheated on Scott. This also surprised you. Scott was someone you liked a lot, seemed like a loving husband. He clearly adored Jean. Why would she cheat? Still, you were disappointed in Logan. He knew what he was did.

“Well… you’re right. You are the bad guy here…”

“I know.”

“But Lo… she made her own choice. I mean, it wasn’t good of you, especially to Scott-”

“What do you mean, ‘Especially Scott?” Logan’s voice held scrutiny, and you couldn’t help smirk a little at him.

“I mean he’s kind, Logan. I know you can’t really see it, you don’t like him, but he is.”

He relaxes. "Sorry... old habits die hard, I guess..." Logan's hand reaches up to cup your face, thumbing gently over your cheek. His eyes held worry as he searched yours for answers. "Does that ruin things, dolly?"

Heat creeps up your body, warming your neck. You and him... you never addressed what this was between you, and you wanted to keep it that way. You loved him, of course you loved Logan, you loved him in a way you'd never felt for your husband. What you felt for Mark was teenage infatuation of a child who didn't know she was being taken advantage of. This was real. Logan was sweet, he was kind, and most importantly to you he was gentle.

Your parent's followed the teaching of the Pearls, their book, "To Train Up a Child" was second only to the bible in your household, and you remember watching in horror as they smacked your younger siblings to prevent them from leaving a laid put blanket. When you protested, your mother asked "so, you want Grace to go to hell?" You didn't know what to think of that, so you couldn't protest anymore, because of course, of course you don't want your sister to go to hell! So it was hell or aggression? Was gentleness a sin? You were conditioned to accept abuse as love, that domestic discipline was your husband teaching you because he loved you, he wanted better for you.

His hand leaves your face when he notices you shrink back.

"Lo, I'm... I'm not right for you."

His hands drop to his sides, bewilderment clouding his face. "Is this about not being able to have kids? Dolly, I want that with you, of course i do but... a baby that doesn't even exist yet isn't more important to me than you are... dolly I lo-"

But you backed away. Shaking your head in your now-dirty dress, hair falling out of it's pins, you looked so sad, like you were falling apart. It broke his heart.

"I don't just mean that."

He blinks. "It is the pants thing?" You mentioned it early, that he deserved someone who doesn't cry when they try on pants. "baby, I don't care if you can't wear pants or drive or, or whatever it is you think is wrong with you. I love you as you are! I want to help you, me and Remy, we can help you get better but if i have to drive you around for the rest of our lives..." He chuckles wryly, hands stretched out in pleading, begging for you to fall into him the way you wanted to. "Well, you won't hear me complaining. Whatever it takes to have you in my life."

But he didn't know you. He thought the only worries you had were the leftover weird little habits you had from your upbringing and nothing could be further from the truth. "I'm not who you think i am, Logan. there's- there's something wrong with me. Something very, very wrong and I'm a bad person who-"

"Dolly..."

"I DESERVE EVERYTHING BAD THAT HAPPENED TO ME!"

You're cry echoes off the walls of the school hall, and you can't even bare to face him. He will just try to tell you that you didn't deserve it, that you are good.

But that is only because he doesn't know you.

If Logan knew the truth, he could never look at you again.

You turn around and ran away.

After

The sound of prom flowed in through the window, your students laughing and having fun to the music. You were glad, even if you couldn't see. Everything those kids have worked through, the trauma they experienced gets to go away for a night. They don't have to be mutants. They don't have to be the freaks they were called by the ones who were supposed to love them. They were just teenagers.

Logan held you in his arms, his body radiating heat and strength and protection you couldn't help be drawn to. Maybe it was the pregnancy, a biological urge to have someone who is going to protect you. Maybe it was your body being drawn to it's father. Maybe you were just weak.

"Let me take care of you, Dolly..." He whispered against the corner of your mouth, lips ghosting over yours like they were asking for permission. "Won't let no one hurt you again, you and our baby... we could be so happy."

Flashes of his abuse flicked, the way you held your arms over your eyes because you couldn't make sense of Logan being the one doing this to you. because it was easier to pretend it was someone else. How you sobbed. How he slapped you... How he held you so sweetly after, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...' but as soon as they were came, they left when your hand on his shoulder grazes his collarbone.

So warm.

You couldn't do this alone. You were terrified, terrified of having a baby, of having a baby out of wedlock, of the shame and embarrassment and the questions. There would be so many questions. Scott knows, so who else does? Has Remy figured it out? Remy wouldn't hate you for having a baby with a man you weren't with, would he? Of course not, but your old beliefs creep in.

"I'll marry you, Dolly." Logan whispers. "My little wife... my perfect girl... You'll never have to worry again..."

It sounded nice. it sounded safe. It sounded like your Logan, the Logan you trusted...

"We're both a little fucked up, aren't we?"

You remember. you remember the things you'd done. The story you trusted to Logan before he did what he did to you...

"you can't ever do that again, Logan..." You say, hesitantly, and you can feel him smile against your lips.

"Never. I'd never hurt my baby doll."

He wouldn't hurt his baby doll. His girl. his wife. The mother of his child... Logan had given you what you wanted, your baby... you could have it all again. A happy family. A husband. A good life here at the school... all you had to do was forgive and forget.

It was what the bible taught, wasn't it? He confessed his sins. He was forgiven by god, so who were you to hold out?

"Okay." You whisper and nod. "I forgive you. Just..." Your eyes meet his, and there's a hope in there you haven't seen for months. "Just don't fail me this time."

"Never." The lips that had been so clos you could feel the lines finally collided with yours again, and it was like the damn had broke. Hands pawed at skin and you kissed Logan like you were trying to swallow him whole, a communion of two bodies pulled together. Logan picked you up, pressing your back against the wall as he ground his hips against your pubic bone, your legs and arms wrapped tightly around him like you'd wanted to do for nearly a year.

Don't fail me, Logan Howlett

"Taste so pretty" Logan murmurs, shuttering as his erection pressed against you. He wasn't exactly making sense, so lost in your that words came out messy and jumbled and god, did it make your head spin. He was drunk of you.

He carried you to your bed, laying you down so gently he cradled your head until it hit the pillow, soft as his lips on your neck. Your dress rucked up around your thighs, falling down when he spread them to loop at your core. You wore tights, of course, but Logan was not hindered. One claw came out just enough for him to cut through the black material, revealing the wet spot of your cotton panties. You should feel embarrassed, honestly, that you weren't wearing the sexiest of clothes, but the way Logan looked at you all of that dissapeared.

Guilt crawled under your skin, a creeping feeling in the back of your head that this was wrong, that this was something god frowned on, that you were bad for doing this...

You wish you knew him before it felt like like a sin.

Logan's mouth was warm over your still-clothed cunt; he mouthed over it, his licking adding to the wetness pooling until sharp teeth tore at the material, masking you gasp once and then again when he dove into you.

Mark never touched you like this.

He never loved you like this.

Logan's tongue on your pussy was unlike anything you'd experienced before, his fingers so much thicker than your own and god, nothing had ever felt so good before.

"Want you to cum, baby doll." he whispers to your cunt. "give it to me, cum on my face." His arm wrapped around your leg, holding you down as you squirm and pleasure and all the overwhelming sensations. "You can do it baby. Let me taste you."

Your hands card though his hair, gripping him; when you cum, you pull so hard on the dark waves for a moment you think you've hurt him... but when he finishes lapping up your juices, his head pops out from under your skirt... he's grinning.

That ear to ear, shit eating, boyish grin you loved so much about him before, before it all got so complicated.

When Logan slid inside you, it didn't hurt. you felt a stretch, sure, but not pain... still, there was an aching inside you, a pain that screamed out SOMETHING IS WRONG! ITS WRONG! ITS WRONG! but you shoved it away. It was just the guilt, that's all. It was guilt from a religion that tore you to shreds, that stripped down every essence of your being until you were a shell, a community of people dependent on thought crimes and martyrdom that somehow never applied to men the way it did to you, and made you feel dirty for wanting to feel pretty. That's what it was.

This with Logan, it wa right. That's why God gave you a baby, right? You were being rewarded. Mark wasn't the one, Logan was. it was fine. it was good.

And he made you feel so, so good.

Logan fucked your body with a passion you didn't know what possible, his hands wandering and groping and feeling, just needing to know every single inch of you, learning what made you gasp and moan and what made you tense and uncomfortable. He drove his cock so deep inside you that you saw stars, an intense sensation of being full, so fucking full. All the while, he was gentle with your stomach, always touching it in some way, needing to be close you know, knowing he was the reason you had stretch marks and he was the reason you swelled with a child.

"Mine." Logan growled, claiming your mouth with fervor and passion as he hips slammed inside you. "You're mine, dolly, and no one is ever going to take you away f-from me, FUCK!"

You didn't care who heard you, if anyone left the party early and came to the rooms. Remy's was the closest, and he certainly wouldn't care.

You let your pleasure me known, moaning his name as your fingernails clawed up his back faster than he could heal. Logan like the pain, smiling when you drew blood. It made you feel good to make it smile. It made you feel good to make him hurt.

You thought he'd cum inside; you were already pregnant so there was no other risk. Logan remained unpredictable.

After he makes you cum so hard you bite through his skin, Logan pulls out with a 'pop!' and flips up your dress. You watch in aw as he jerks himself off, strong body, soft muscles, and the absolute look of lust on his face as he stared directly down on your cunt, painting it with rope after rope of white cum. He was filing it away for his memory, the way his seed covered you, sticking to the public hair and contrasting against your skin.

Once he was sure he'd never forget, and every last drop was pulled from his softening cock, Logan's tongue cleaned you.

THEY FUCKED!!!!!!

we're not at the end though, tee hee! still more!

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Unwanted: Chapter 9, Unselfish - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex (nothing on page), fluff.

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Despite Jade's interference, you and Bucky spent a pleasant, intimate afternoon together. Secrets were revealed. Steve's in love with you-- who knew?! And Bucky's hella insecure about it, but you reassured him that he's the one you want. You share your phone passcodes (so cute, I could gag) and are in a good place, but Steve's asked Bucky to take point on Jade's training. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Let's call this part "The Calm Before the Storm," shall we? I think it's the final peaceful moment before shit begins hitting the fan with increasing severity. I am sorry for what is to come.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows

The following morning, you and Bucky made your way out of the Tower to an adorable Midtown café you’d been coming to since you first began spending time together. The interior consisted of high windows, exposed brick walls, comfortable seating, and plants everywhere. You made your way up to the loft to commandeer one of the oversized plush armchairs for the two of you while Bucky placed your orders.

“Peanut butter coffee shake,” he said when he arrived, handing you your order as he snuggled down into the chair next to you. With the hand that wasn’t holding his large black coffee, he adjusted your legs until they were draped over his lap and he began running his fingers along the length of your thigh.

“Thank you,” you murmured, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. You'd told him you hadn’t minded waiting in line with him, or even going to get the drinks yourself while he got the seats, but he scoffed.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girl wait in line when I’m perfectly capable of doing it, myself?” he retorted. So, you’d accepted his chivalry.

“So,” you began after a few moments of companionable silence and sips of your respective beverages, “we should talk about Steve’s request. You taking on Jade’s training.”

Bucky slung an arm over the backrest of the armchair. “Nothing to talk about, doll. I’m gonna tell him I won’t do it. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”

You offered him a soft smile, grateful that he was taking your feelings, however ridiculous and unfounded they might have been, into consideration. You’d been giving the matter a lot of thought, however, and as far as you were concerned, there was only one course of action he could take.

“I really appreciate that, Buck,” you said, lifting a hand up to caress his jawline, “but I think you should do it.”

He gaped at you, surprise and confusion plainly evident across his face. “Is this one of those boyfriend tests Sam’s always making me watch videos of on that clock app?” he asked, looking around as though searching for a camera that might be recording him.

You chuckled, taking his hand and rubbing comforting circles into the mound above his thumb. “No, I promise it’s not. I’ve just been giving it a lot of thought, and I can’t justify asking you not to do it. I don’t love the idea, I won’t lie about that, but if Jade’s going to become the best Avenger she can possibly be, she’s going to need the best teacher. There’s no one else more suited to train her than you, and that’s just a fact. I don’t have to like it, but her ability to be a good teammate, to ensure that she knows what she’s doing and keep you and the others safe on missions? Well, that trumps my feelings on the matter.”

Bucky took your joined hands and raised them to his lips, pressing a kiss to the pulse point of your wrist. “Are you absolutely sure? If you have any doubts, I’ll tell Steve he can train her, himself.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, baby, really. I may not trust her as far as I can throw her, but I trust you. That’s good enough for me.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, kissing your temple. “You’ll tell me the second she does anything that makes you uncomfortable, alright, sweets?” he asked. “I won’t be able to live with myself if anything I’ve done inadvertently makes you unhappy. Promise me, okay?”

“I promise,” you said, smiling back at him as you rested your head into the crook of his shoulder. “I only ask that you be transparent with me, you know?” Bucky gave you a questioning look, silently asking you to elaborate. “Just, like, let me know if she says or does anything inappropriate, tell me if you’re going to spend any one-on-one time with her, that sort of thing. Is that cool?”

Bucky nodded as he ran his fingers up and down your upper arm. “Yeah, that’s easy enough,” he said. “But I really don’t think you gotta worry about it, doll. I mean, what’s a girl like her gonna see in a guy like me, anyway?”

You pulled your head back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, a note of defensiveness creeping into your voice. “What, you think she’s too good to be interested in you? Because if so, what does that mean you think about me?”

Bucky put his coffee cup down on the table in front of you and positioned himself so that he was looking you directly in the face. “No. Not at all, sweetheart. I mean, she doesn’t know me. Not like you do, not even close. All she knows is what she’s seen in the media. The Winter Soldier. The assassin, the killer. She doesn’t know Bucky Barnes. You know me. You know who I really am. You see me. She can’t.” He said the words as if it were so obvious, so apparent, that there was no way Jade could be truly interested in him simply because she didn’t know who he truly was, that it made you question why you were letting yourself get so worked up over it in the first place.

“Listen,” he said, reaching a hand up to cup the side of your face and brush back your hair, “I hate that you’re getting yourself so upset over this. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I just don’t trust her, Buck,” you murmured, leaning into his palm. “She’s manipulative, plays fast and loose with the truth, and she’s made it perfectly clear to me that she wants to sleep with you.”

Bucky pulled his head back slightly. “When did she say that?”

Shit. You hadn’t meant to divulge that nugget of truth. Might as well come clean; cat was out of the bag now. “When I was doing her Tower tour,” you told him with a sigh. “She was telling me that she was going to sleep with you, find out if your super soldier stamina could make her come for hours, and then let me know all about it.”

Bucky began laughing, and when you glared at him, he raised his hand in surrender. “I’m sorry, but it’s kinda pathetic of her, don’t you think? I mean, she’s acting like she’s hot shit, like she’s god’s gift to men, and she has no clue she’s talking to the only woman alive who's actually been on the receiving end of my ‘super soldier stamina’ . I sincerely hope you told her you weren’t in need of her offer, since you already knew for yourself. Every day, and usually more than once, I might add.”

You snorted. “I might have mentioned it, yeah,” you muttered, ducking your head to hide your embarrassment behind your hair.

Bucky leaned his head back. “That’s my girl,” he laughed heartily. He pulled you closer to him until you were sitting in his lap. “No wonder she’s been such a bitch to you. I bet she didn’t expect you to bring her down a peg. Serves her right.”

You put down your own coffee and wrapped your arms around him, snuggling your body as close to Bucky’s chest as you could get. “Thank you,” you said. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“Hey,” he said, stroking your hair, “I’m only telling you the truth. "I love you, and only you. I don’t want you ever doubting that.”

“I don’t, and I won’t,” you assured him. “And I love you, too. So fucking much.”

“Too bad we’re not back at the Tower,” Bucky joked. “Stark’d be getting another dollar in his jar.”

“No worries there,” you said, holding up your wrist to show him the silver bangle you always wore. “In addition to keeping track of my location, vitals, and being a distress beacon, Tony also programed it to count every time I swear, so FRIDAY never misses a thing.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “So, you’re saying that last week, when we were in the bathroom at that bar…”

“And I kept begging you to ‘fuck me harder’ against the sink?” you giggled. “Yup. Every single one of those counted.”

“God, how much money is in that jar by now?” he asked with a laugh.

“I honestly have no idea,” you told him. “A lot, I’d wager. It’s been almost a year and a half.”

Bucky leaned in to kiss you. “Told you I love that filthy mouth of yours,” he whispered into your lips. “What are you going to do with all of it?”

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Maybe you and I could take a long vacation, go somewhere, just the two of us.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a smile building across his beautiful face. “Where’d you have in mind?”

“I dunno,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. “I’ve always heard Tahiti was a magical place.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

[thechaoticdruid]

|This Bites| (8)

Astarion x Chubby! F!MC

Plot: Astarion and Winnie prepare to meet with someone willing to help with Astarion's dietary needs. Hijinks ensue.

Content/Warnings: Sexual humor, kissing.

Chapter 7: BACK

Chapter 8: STOP

Chapter 9: WEEEEEE

“Mmmm…” Astarion hummed softly as he pressed his lips against Winnie’s. The young woman smiled into the kiss. This is maybe like the third time he's been peppering her lips with smooches today. She giggled, gazing up at him with eyes full of adoration. 

“You finished trying to eat my face?” Winnie teased with a smile.

“Never! This is one feast I intend to savor for as long as possible.” The vampiric elf giggled before going in for another kiss. Winnie returned it before wincing and rubbing her throat. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Astarion asked with concern. 

“Ah…Yeah….It just hurts still…” Winnie croaked out. Astarion leaned in to place a peck on her forehead.  

“I'll go and see about finding you something to eat, my love. You just relax.” Astarion caressed her forehead before getting up and leaving the room. Brian was going to be working late today so they had plenty of time without having to worry about his bullshit. Astarion walked into the kitchen where Vanessa was pouring some dog kibble into Ollie's bowl. 

“I believe you said you were going to help me learn how to cook.” The vampire huffed out.

“Oh yes! Just give me a moment.” Vanessa exclaimed, putting away the dog food and running to wash her hands. Astarion crossed his arms.

“You too! Wash!” The twelve year old ordered. Astarion rolled his eyes before washing his clawed hands. Nessa took out a small purple apron with a little dragon on it before putting it on and grabbing a silk, frilly pink apron. “Here put this on!”  She said as she put it in his hands. The vampire put on the apron sighing a bit in impatience.  

“We can start with something easy like a cup of noodles! Maybe with a little bit of green onions?” Nessa took a styrofoam cup from the cabinet before handing it to Astarion. “Just make sure to fill up this cup with water and then…” Nessa walked over and towards the microwave, “put it in here and set the timer for three minutes.” She explained before walking over to the fridge and started getting out green onions. Nessa carefully began to cut up the green stalks on a cutting board while the microwave beeped from the pressing of random buttons.

Back in Winnie’s room, she laid there in boredom as her phone suddenly buzzed. Her brown eyes looked over the touch screen as she tapped on the message. It was from Becca.

Becca: How's your throat?

Winnie: PAIN. I can barely move without feeling it.

Becca: Fuck. That sucks :(

Becca: Still trying 2 process this whole vampire from a video game is suddenly real shit  But I'm here for u

Winnie: Thanks. I really need to find that modder now tho.

Becca: U said he was in Varamont? That's quite a drive. Hey my dad's gonna give me his old van once he gets a new car I can take u and Star there in it

Winnie: You sure about this Becca? We might run into danger again. Especially now since there's monsters showing up.

Becca: That's why u need me! My dad taught me how 2 shoot a gun when I was 7 I'll have ur back if stuff gets hairy

Winnie: Okay I'll think about it. I'm just so nervous about everything these days. Especially since I have to look after a literal vampire.

Becca: Oh btw I think I might have a way 2 help u with that I know a guy who can get u blood without hurting anyone

Winnie: That sounds…..Shady…

Becca: Don't worry he's a good guy

Becca: A little weird but good :) 

Winnie let out a sigh as she looked at Becca’s texts. She really needed to try to relax more. The smell of something burning suddenly hit her senses. 

“Is something on fire!?” She shouted, head turning towards her door which was cracked.

“No! It's okay! Astarion just forgot to add water to the noodles!” Vanessa called from down the hall.

“You said nothing about water!” Astarion complained, his whiny voice echoing through the house. Winnie rolled her eyes before returning her attention to her phone in an attempt to relax. 

She pulled up Tumblr and began to scroll through her timeline.  There were a couple new BG3 fanfictions posted by Vixstarria, TragedyBunny, and MJ-Bites. Winnie bit down on her lip nervously as she began to realize just how strange this probably would seem to Astarion. 

The fact that there is an entire community of people obsessing over him might freak him out a little. Especially with some of their more erotic works. Not that she had anything against the fanfiction creators, they unfortunately had no idea that Astarion was actually real. And many of them were exceptionally talented, but knowing about this could be a bit much to take. Winnie continued to scroll through her timeline, liking some cute art here and there before stumbling upon an interesting post by just-a-refridgerator.

 It appeared to be a comparison of all of the Baldur's Gate 3 men's butt sizes, which confirmed that they all indeed have the same size ass.

Why is this a debate!? They literally all have the same body type!

Winnie sighed, looking through the comments when suddenly the door opened up, revealing Astarion holding a steaming cup of noodles.

“Darling! I'm back.I made you something.~” He purred as Winnie squeaked and quickly turned her phone over.  The silver haired vampire raised an eyebrow as he looked her over in confusion.

“You seem rather startled. What ever has you so worked up, dear?” 

“Oh nothing, just surprised is all…heheh…” Winnie rubbed the back of her neck nervously as she kept her hand clamped over her phone. “So uh..You got me noodles? Thank you!” Winnie said before quickly taking the cup from his hands and shoving some in her mouth as she hid her phone under her leg. Astarion looked at her with a slightly suspicious glance before sitting behind her and nuzzling his face into her shoulder. 

“How is it, my love?” Astarion spoke softly, his breath tickling her ear. Winnie shivered before feeling his arms wrap around her waist. The noodles were salty, savory and overall not bad.

“It's good.” Winnie praised before glancing back at him with a smile.

“I'm so glad you think so.” Astarion purred, his lips inches away from Winnie’s ears. 

“Astarion,what are you-” with a slight of hand Astarion snatched Winnie’s phone out from under her leg.

“Well, what do we have here?~” The pale elf had a wide shit eating grin spreading across his face.

“Astarion!” Winnie set the cup of noodles down on her nightstand before attempting to wrestle her phone back from him. “You asshole! Give me back my phone!” 

“Easy darling, your neck is still bruised. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself now would we? Astarion cooed out, his voice dripping with condescension. He gently pushed her down on her back and straddled her, pinning her under his body. “Hmm ... .Now what ever could you be hiding from me?” The elven vampire glanced at the screen as the young woman squirmed under him.

“This is an invasion of my privacy ya know!” Winnie hissed, her face turning redder by the second. 

“Ah…This is….Gale…Wyll and…. myself? And someone is comparing our posteriors…..” Astarion looked back at Winnie with a puzzled look. The young woman bit down on her lip, immediately expecting some kind of declaration of disgust. “What do you mean we all have the same arse!? This can't possibly be true! My physique is far more impressive than those two imbeciles combined!”Astarion turned and got off of Winnie.

The brunette was a bit bewildered by his reaction.

“Well…from the game it looks that way…”

“Oh so you've been looking at our companions' unclothed bodies then?” 

“It’s not like that! And I didn't even know you were real, sentient people!” Winnie crossed her arms, sitting up. 

“Regardless, you now have a far better way of seeing for yourself.” Before the human female could even say another word the vampire turned around and shoved his backside near her face. 

“S-Stop it.” Winnie sputtered out, her face burning brightly.

“Winnie please! I need you to tell me your thoughts.” 

“You're literally asking me to give you feedback on your butt?” 

“Of course. Your opinion is the only one that truly matters.” Astarion exclaimed, running a hand over the curve of his ass. 

“Oh for God's sake Astarion.” Winnie pinched the bride of her nose before responding with a bashful cough, “i-it's nice….…”

“Nice!? Is that all you have to say!?” Astarion huffed, his face turning into an upset pout. 

“It's very…luscious ... .and…round…I'm really not good at this Star….” Winnie said, covering her face in embarrassment. “Now get your ass out of my face!” 

“I'm not moving until I receive an adequate compliment.” 

“Oh my fucking God…”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

About a week passed before Winnie’s neck had fully healed. Becca was coming by today to take Winnie to meet with her friend she promised could help her out with Astarion’s particular dietary needs. Winnie still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of trusting some random dude to get them blood donations, but she really didn't want a repeat of the incident at the carnival. Not to mention Astarion’s leftovers were being noticed by her neighbors. 

Winnie pulled on some black tights before pulling a purple shirt over her head as she waited for Becca to arrive. She grabbed a black and red hoodie and put it on after her shirt.

“Sweetheart? What do you think looks better, the button up or the tank?” Astarion asked as he stepped out of the bathroom wearing black jeans as he held a white button up shirt in one hand and a black tank top in the other. 

“You're going to be in bat form since the sun is still out, I doubt it'll matter.” Winnie hummed before sitting on her bed and pulling on her shoes as Maddie crawled out from under the bed and stretched.

“I need to look fashionable in any form.” The vampire boasted before glancing down at the small black feline who appeared to be staring at him, intently. “What do you think, dear?” 

Maddie’s large blue eyes scanned the two objects he held before turning her head towards the button up and letting out a long high meow. 

“Ah you're absolutely right darling!” Astarion said before quickly dressing himself in the white button up. Winnie shook her head with a smile. 

“Alright beautiful, just behave yourself today. We're going to be meeting someone who might be able to help me get you fed regularly.” Winnie hummed before checking her phone again for any updates from Becca.

“Oh I will. But I expect to be rewarded for my behavior.” Astarion purred before sitting down on Winnie’s lap and leaning closely.

“And just what kind of reward were you thinking of?” Winnie raised an eyebrow.

“Your lips.” Astarion nipped her bottom lip playfully before kissing her hungrily, wrapping his arms around her neck and moaning against her mouth. Winnie returned his kiss as she used one hand to play with his ivory curls, the two of them caught up in the moment. Suddenly there was knocking on the front door followed by Ollie barking. Astarion got up before pulling Winnie to her feet and planting a kiss on her hand. 

Winnie giggled before she walked out to open the front door to see her fiery haired friend. 

“Hey Becca-” The brunette began as Becca quickly closed the door behind her. 

“Where is the vampire?” She asked. 

“I do have a name you know.” Astarion scoffed as he stepped out from behind Winnie.

“Oh-shit! Sorry I didn't mean anything by it!” Becca put her hands up. “I'm just really excited! I've never met a vampire before! Let alone one from a video game. Oh hey where are the others from the game?” Becca asked.

“I….I don't really know honestly…They disappeared before Winnie brought me here.” 

“The game ended up being a bit unstable after I pulled Astarion out. I'm not sure if we could go and look for them now. But with Raphael showing up I suppose anything might be possible. So uh…This friend of yours?” Winnie changed the subject.

“Oh right. Jimmy. He's a bit eccentric but his brother and mother work at the hospital in town, so he's able to get his hands on a blood bag or two on occasion. We should probably not keep him waiting.”

“Well, let's not waste any more time then?” Astarion chimed in before suddenly he was engulfed in red and shrank down into his bat form. Winnie him up and allowed him to climb into her hoodie.

“Oh my god! He's so cute!” Becca cooed, her eyes round and full of adoration as she looked at the small bat who frowned slightly.

 Astarion let out a squeak of protest as he nuzzled up against Winnie's neck.  The brunette pulled the hood over her head before the two females walked out of the hour and got into Becca's car. 

Winnie sat in the passenger seat and looked out the window as Astarion snuggled against her. She carefully reached into her hoodie to gently pet Astarion’s head with her finger, receiving a few curious little squeaks in reply.

It took them about an hour to arrive at Becca's friend’s house. He apparently lived on the other side of town. Winnie’s brown eyes perked up as she noticed fake headstones sitting in his yard, along with a bush trimmed into the shape of a skull. 

“Here we are!” Becca announced as they exited the truck. Winnie scanned the yard.

“Hmm…Nice place. Love the Halloween vibes.” She exclaimed as the two of them walked up the sidewalk and towards the front door. Becca knocked on the door before suddenly a brown eyeball peeked through the peephole. The door opened revealing a short man with messy blonde hair, glasses, pasty white skin and painted dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing a band T-shirt and a cape? 

“Becca, who's the fresh meat?” He asked, revealing what appeared to be fake fangs in his mouth. 

“Jimmy….This is Winnie.” Becca replied.

“Oh…..Hey….” Winnie said awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. 

Ah……This explains a lot….

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

I'M NOT DEAD GUYS! :3 Just been having a lot of issues with writers block and life and all that great stuff! Anyway hope you're all still enjoying the story!

Thanks to @vixstarria , @tragedybunny , @mj-bites and @just-a-refrigerator for letting me give ya a little cameo in the fic!

~Druid

Taglist: @seradyn , @plimsim , @astarioffsimpmain , @marcynomercy , @iamsexytrash , @gaymistakeboi , @divineknightmare , @tinyfreakgirl , @misscrissfemmefatal, @gianchan-de @jaksfanficsaver , @the-disaster-in-waiting , @hp-art-studio , @im-just-a-simp-le-whore , @dajeong , @iamnotokei , @the-pale-elfs-love , @geminipridekitty , @just-a-refrigerator , @vixstarria , @ellaprime7

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between Us: Chapter 13

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Gabby meets the rest of Glen's family.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Mentions of Parental Loss.

A/N: Please continue to let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs! Also if you'd like to be tagged please let me know, and I will get you added to the tag list!

Tag List: In Comments - Tumblr for some reason doesn't like linking more than 5 usernames so I'm just going to use the tags in the comments to make sure you get the notification!

Glen parked his truck in the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. He turned off the engine and glanced over at Gabby, noticing how her shoulders were just a bit stiff. Her hands rested in her lap, but the slight tension in her posture didn’t escape him.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice low but warm.

Gabby gave him a small smile, but there was an edge of nervousness in her eyes. "Yeah," she said, though it was more of a half-hearted confirmation. "I think so."

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's gonna be fine."

She nodded, but he could tell it wasn't the confidence she wanted to show. He didn’t push her, instead offering her a soft, understanding smile before climbing out of the truck and meeting her at the door.

With one last glance at her, he took her hand, the weight of it grounding her, and led her toward the house. As they approached the front door, Brisket started running full speed inside, his tail wagging like a blur. Glen opened the front door and Brisket made his way straight through the door rushing inside.

As they pulled away, Glen Sr., his dad, emerged from the kitchen, a welcoming smile on his face. He extended his hand to Gabby, his voice deep and kind. “Nice to meet you, Gabby. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Gabby shook his hand, a little more formal, but the smile she gave him was sincere. “Nice to meet you too, sir.”

Glen watched them interact, feeling a mix of pride and relief. It was the first time Gabby had met his dad, and though she seemed a little quiet, it was going smoothly.

“Let’s go see if Mom needs any help in the kitchen,” Glen said, giving his dad a brief nod. “You good with that?”

Gabby glanced at him and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

Glen led her toward the kitchen, where Cyndy was already busy preparing lunch. “Gabby if you want to come help with the potatoes I could use a hand. Glen, honey, would you mind setting the table,” she said with a smile.

Gabby and Cyndy worked side by side, chatting comfortably as Cyndy showed Gabby how to make her “famous” mashed potatoes just right.

After finishing setting the table, Glen leaned against the counter, surveying the scene. Gabby was laughing quietly with Cyndy about something he hadn’t quite caught. The ease between the two women was obvious, and that put him at ease. A small smile tugged at his lips. Gabby was doing great so far. 

Just then, the front door opened again, and Leslie, Glen’s younger sister, arrived. She smiled brightly as she spotted Glen, rushing over to give him a big hug. “Hey, big brother!”

Leslie pulled away and turned her attention to Gabby, her smile widening as she extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Leslie. Glen’s much cooler younger sister.”

Gabby laughed, shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Gabby.”

“Oh, trust me, we’ve all heard about you,” Leslie said with a playful glint in her eye.

“Alright, Leslie, don’t scare her off,” Glen said with a mock warning tone, earning a laugh from his sister.

Before Leslie could say something else, the front door swung open again. A blonde woman came into the kitchen, her lips curving into a smile when she saw Gabby and Glen.

“Good to see you, little bro,” the woman teased giving him a playful nudge before turning her attention to Gabby. “And you must be Gabby. I’m Lauren—the responsible older sibling.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Gabby said, smiling as Lauren offered her hand.

Lauren shook her hand firmly but quickly turned back to Glen with a mischievous grin. “So, this is the girl who’s somehow putting up with you? Miracles do exist.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Glen replied dryly, though his lips twitched with amusement.

“Uncle Boom Boom!” a pair of high-pitched voices suddenly rang out, drawing everyone’s attention to the hallway.

Glen barely had time to turn before two small figures barreled toward him—a boy and a girl, their matching smiles wide with excitement.

“Whoa, hey, slow down!” Glen said, laughing as he crouched to meet the twins at their level. “How are my favorite little troublemakers?”

The twins tackled him in a giggling hug, their arms wrapping around his neck. “We missed you!” his nephew said, while his niece chimed in with, “You promised to play with us!”

“I always keep my promises,” Glen said, ruffling their hair. “But you gotta give me a second to say hi to everyone else first, okay?”

Gabby took a small step back, watching the scene unfold with a soft smile. It was like watching a switch flip in Glen—the way he seamlessly shifted from composed boyfriend to caring brother, to fun, goofy uncle. His grin widened as he teased the twins, tickling their sides and making them squeal with laughter.

Lauren sidled up next to Gabby, nudging her gently. “He’s a natural with them, isn’t he?”

Gabby nodded, her chest tightening at the sight. “He really is.”

“And just wait—those two are going to be glued to him all day,” Lauren added with a laugh. “It’s like he’s their personal jungle gym.”

Gabby chuckled, her nerves easing as she watched Glen scoop the twins up, one under each arm, and carry them toward the living room, their laughter filling the house.

Lauren’s eyes shifted to Gabby, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “So, Gabby, has Glen told you that Mom’s homemade rolls are basically a rite of passage? If you survive the food coma that follows, you officially become part of the family.”

“Food coma?” Gabby asked, intrigued.

“Oh yeah! They’re so good it’s impossible to eat just one. We all end up with a food coma after one of Mom’s meals.”

Gabby laughed softly, her nerves slowly unraveling as the sisters’ teasing banter filled the room. “Well, I think I’m up for the challenge,” she said, glancing over at Cyndy.

“Oh, she’ll do fine,” Cyndy said with a knowing smile. “Besides, she already passed the harder test—Glen brought her home.”

“That is saying something,” Leslie added with a grin. “He doesn’t usually bring people around.”

Gabby’s cheeks flushed, but Cyndy waved off her daughters with a chuckle. “Don’t listen to them, Gabby. They just like to give their brother a hard time.”

“It’s a sibling duty,” Lauren added, taking a sip of her coffee. Then, with a teasing glint in her eye, she said, “But seriously, Glen’s been a different guy lately. Happier. Relaxed.”

Gabby felt her cheeks grow warmer, but she managed a shy smile. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Oh, it is,” Cyndy said warmly. “You’ve got him smiling more than I’ve seen in years. That’s a very good thing.”

The conversation flowed naturally from there, with Cyndy recounting childhood stories about Glen, and Leslie jumping in with exaggerated embellishments that had Gabby laughing despite her lingering nerves. Lauren chimed in with tales of Glen’s high school escapades, including an ill-fated attempt at building a treehouse that left him with a sprained ankle and a bruised ego.

“I told him not to climb on a ladder with one hand holding a toolbox,” Cyndy said, shaking her head.

“But does Glen ever listen?” Leslie added with a smirk.

Gabby couldn’t help but laugh, her nerves easing further as the sisters’ teasing painted a vivid picture of Glen��s childhood.

Through it all, the sound of laughter from the living room drifted into the kitchen, mingling with their own. Gabby glanced toward the doorway and caught a glimpse of Glen chasing the twins around the couch, their giggles echoing through the house.

“You know,” Cyndy said, drawing Gabby’s attention back, “you fit in here like you’ve always been part of the family.”

The sincerity in her voice caught Gabby off guard, and her throat tightened as she blinked back the sudden rush of emotion. She managed a soft, “Thank you,” her voice barely above a whisper.

Cyndy reached over and patted her hand gently. “No need to thank me, sweetheart.”

Gabby felt the truth of those words settle deep in her chest, the warmth of them lingering even as the laughter from the living room pulled her focus back to Glen and his role as “Uncle Boom Boom.”

As the conversation continued, Leslie leaned against the counter, her mug of coffee cradled in her hands. “So, Gabby,” she said, a teasing smile on her lips, “has Glen met your family yet? Or are you keeping him a secret for now?”

Gabby chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No secrets. Glen just hasn’t met him yet. I’m an only child, so there’s no sibling gauntlet for him to run through.”

“Lucky Glen,” Lauren quipped, smirking. “I bet he’s relieved he only has your parents to impress.”

Gabby smiled, but then added, “We’re planning for him to meet my dad soon, though. We just have to figure out the dates with Glen’s schedule.”

Cyndy perked up at this, her interest piqued. “That’s wonderful. Where does your dad live?”

“Iowa,” Gabby said.

“And your mom? Is she in Iowa too?” Cyndy said with a warm smile.

The question hung in the air for a moment, and Gabby’s smile faltered. She hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee mug. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, more measured. “She uh, passed away a few years ago.”

The mood in the kitchen shifted instantly, the lightheartedness giving way to a softer, more tender atmosphere. Both Leslie and Lauren immediately murmured their condolences, their teasing replaced with genuine warmth.

“I’m so sorry, Gabby,” Cyndy said softly, reaching out to place her hand gently on Gabby’s arm. Her touch was steady, and comforting, and Gabby felt a wave of emotion rise in her chest.

The kitchen filled with a comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of the previous conversation lingering but not in a bad way. Gabby felt something shift, like she’d been pulled just a little closer into their circle, welcomed not just as Glen’s girlfriend but as someone they genuinely wanted to know and care for.

In the background, the sound of Glen laughing with the twins drifted into the kitchen, grounding Gabby in the present. She glanced toward the doorway and smiled, realizing just how lucky she was to have found him—and, by extension, his family.

As the sound of Glen’s laughter and the twins' excited giggles carried through the house, Gabby sipped her coffee, feeling a comforting sense of warmth in the kitchen. Cyndy and Glen's sisters had seamlessly included her in their conversation, making her feel welcome despite the lingering ache of her earlier admission.

Moments later, Glen appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly mussed and his cheeks flushed from playing with the kids. He paused, his gaze sweeping over the scene in the kitchen. Gabby caught his eye, and a soft smile tugged at his lips as he crossed the room.

Without saying a word, Glen placed a hand gently on Gabby’s back, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles over the fabric of her shirt. It was a subtle gesture, but it sent a wave of calm through her, grounding her in the moment.

Gabby glanced up at him, her eyes meeting his in an unspoken exchange. Glen tilted his head slightly, his brows lifting in a silent question: Are you okay?

Gabby’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile, and she leaned ever so slightly into his touch, letting him know she was fine. His presence—steady, quiet, and protective—was all she needed to steady herself completely.

Cyndy, Leslie, and Lauren exchanged knowing glances, their smiles softening as they watched the interaction. There was something unspoken but undeniable in the way Glen and Gabby were with each other—a quiet intimacy that spoke volumes without the need for words.

“He’s smitten,” Lauren murmured to Leslie, not quite low enough for their mom to miss. Cyndy smiled but didn’t comment, instead focusing on the way Gabby seemed to relax under Glen’s touch.

Glen caught the faint murmur from his sisters and gave them a side glance, narrowing his eyes in mock warning.

“Don’t start,” he said with a playful edge, though the slight blush in his cheeks betrayed him.

Leslie grinned and held up her hands. “Who’s starting anything? I’m just making an observation.”

“Mm-hmm,” Glen muttered, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Gabby. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Gabby nodded, her smile growing. “I’m good,” she whispered back.

“You sure?” he pressed gently, his eyes scanning her face for any lingering discomfort.

“I’m sure,” Gabby said, her tone more confident this time.

“Good.” Glen gave her a quick, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before pulling his hand away. “I’m gonna go wrestle the twins away from the couch before they break something.”

As Glen went to leave the kitchen, his hand lingered on Gabby’s back for just a moment longer than necessary. She leaned back slightly against the kitchen counter, her eyes following his movements as he moved towards the living room.

It wasn’t until she heard the soft clearing of a throat that Gabby realized the room had gone quiet. Cyndy, Leslie, and Lauren were all watching her with amused, knowing expressions. Gabby flushed, feeling a bit caught off guard.

“You really like him, huh?” Lauren asked, a playful glint in her eyes but her tone carrying a bit more weight.

Gabby nodded without hesitation. “Yeah,” she said, the smile tugging at her lips again. “He’s really great.” She found herself smiling wider than she intended, warmth flooding her chest at the thought of Glen.

“Gabby, we’re not trying to scare you, but we just want to make sure you’re on the same page with him,” Leslie said, her tone soft but firm. “Our brother’s been through a lot, and when he opens up like this, it’s not something he does lightly. He’s not someone who lets people in easily. So just…” Leslie paused, looking for the right words. “Just be careful, okay? We don’t want to see him get hurt.”

Gabby swallowed, nodding slowly, unsure of how to respond. She wanted to assure them, to let them know that she wasn’t going to hurt Glen, that she really cared about him. But she wasn't sure what were the right words to say to them to settle any doubts they may have about her.

Lauren chimed in next, her tone still warm but with an underlying sincerity. “I know it’s not easy. But Glen’s been different with you. We all see it.” She glanced at Leslie before turning her focus back to Gabby. “The way he looks at you—it’s like he’s certain. Like you’re it, you know?”

Gabby mfelt her stomach flutter with a mixture of excitement and nerves. She knew Glen cared about her, but hearing it like this—hearing it from his family, who had witnessed his other relationships and could see things so clearly—made it feel even more real.

Gabby nodded again, feeling the weight of their words but also their support. As the sounds of Glen and the twins continued to echo in the living room, she found herself more certain of her feelings for him than ever before. And, for the first time, she realized that maybe she was ready to let herself believe in what they had.

Glen’s family had made it clear—he was all in for her. Before Gabby could overthink his sisters’ and mom’s words, Cyndy’s voice rang out. “Alright, everyone, lunch is ready!”

The four women made their way towards the dining room. Glen smiled as they walked in, Glen pulled out a chair for Gabby, his eyes full of affection as she sat down. She smiled up at him, appreciating the simple, thoughtful gesture. Once she was seated, he took the chair next to her, the soft clink of chairs moving against the wooden floor filling the room as the rest of the family settled in.

Glen’s mom took her seat at the head of the table, a proud smile on her face as she looked around at her family. 

"It’s good to have everyone together," she said warmly, her eyes glancing around at all of them. The table was filled with laughter and chatter, everyone eager to dig into the hearty meal Cyndy had prepared.

“So, Gabby,” Leslie started, grinning at her brother, “do you want to know what Glen was like growing up?” Her eyes sparkled.

Gabby glanced at Glen, who was already shaking his head, clearly sensing the teasing coming.

“Oh, I’d love to hear all about it.” Gabby said, smiling.

“He was a perfect little angel, right dear?” Glen’s mom chimed in.

Leslie raised an eyebrow, looking at her brother with a sly grin. “Perfect little angel? Are we talking about the same person here?”

Glen groaned, burying his face in his hands in mock defeat. “Leslie, don’t you dare,” he warned, though his tone was full of amusement. Almost like he knew what story was about to be told.

Leslie turned to Lauren, clearly enjoying the moment. “Well, I think we all remember when Glen was in high school, right? The time he tried to sneak into the movie theater and got caught by the manager. What was it, Glen? Trying to get into a rated R movie with a fake ID?”

Glen’s face turned a little red, and he groaned louder this time. “You’re killing me, Les,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Gabby couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the lighthearted teasing making the moment feel easy. 

“Well, I didn’t always make the best decisions,” Glen admitted, his tone light but with a slight shrug. “But hey, I’ve turned out okay, right?”

“Oh, you’ve turned out great,” Cyndy chimed in, her eyes soft with love. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a little fun at your expense.”

The family continued to laugh, and Glen’s cheeks flushed a little more, but he seemed genuinely pleased by the comfort and joy in the room. The teasing was all in good fun, a sign of how much they cared. Glen caught Gabby’s eye as she smiled at him, her eyes soft and warm. He could tell she was enjoying the moment, and it made his heart swell.

“Well, I have a few stories of my own,” Lauren said, her tone shifting to one of mock seriousness. “Like the time Glen got so competitive at family game night that he threw the board at my husband’s head.”

“What?!” Gabby gasped, eyes wide with surprise.

“Oh yeah,” Lauren said with a smirk. “It was one of those trivia games. Glen was winning, and when Will got one answer right, Glen lost it and sent the board flying.”

Everyone at the table burst out laughing, including Glen, who rubbed his temples in exaggerated frustration. “Alright, alright, I get it. I was a little competitive.”

“Just a little?” Leslie teased, nudging him playfully.

Gabby couldn’t hold back her laughter, the warmth of the family’s love for Glen apparent in every shared story. It made her feel closer to him, to see how much of himself he had given to them over the years.

“I bet there are a hundred more stories like these, huh?” Gabby asked, a playful glint in her eye.

“Oh, absolutely,” Lauren said with a grin, “but we’ll save those for later. We don’t want to embarrass him too much in one day.”

Glen gave her a mock glare, though there was no malice behind it. “You’re lucky I love you all,” he said, his voice filled with affection despite his embarrassment.

Gabby smiled, leaning slightly into his side, feeling the easy, comfortable rhythm of the moment. The teasing, the laughter—it felt like the kind of family environment she had always dreamed of. And seeing Glen in the center of it all, surrounded by people who clearly cared so much for him, made her heart swell with something deeper than just affection.

As the meal continued, they shared stories, laughter, and even a few more lighthearted jabs at Glen, but underneath it all, there was an undeniable sense of love and acceptance that made Gabby feel like she belonged here, too.

The laughter and warmth from the meal spilled over into the afternoon as everyone gradually made their way outside to the backyard. The yard was wide and open, bordered by a line of tall trees that provided just enough shade to keep the late afternoon heat at bay. Leslie and Lauren’s twins were already darting around the lawn, tossing a football between them while Brisket happily chased after it, barking with excitement.

“We should play a game,” Leslie suggested, grinning as she looked around at everyone. “It’s been too long since we all played a little family football.”

“I don’t know if it’s fair,” Glen teased, shooting her a playful look. “You all know I’m the best athlete here. It might be too one-sided.”

“Oh, please,” Leslie shot back with a snort. “You peaked in high school. Don’t get cocky now.”

Lauren stepped forward, hands on her hips. “Alright, teams then. Gabby, you’re with me and Les. Glen, you’re with Dad and Will,” she said, motioning to her husband.

Glen turned to Gabby, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin. “Guess we’re rivals now,” he said, his voice dropping into a playful, competitive tone.

Gabby raised an eyebrow, feigning confidence. “You sure you can handle losing?”

“Losing?” Glen echoed, stepping closer. “You’re cute, but you’re going down.”

Gabby smirked, feeling the energy between them shift into something both fun and charged. “We’ll see about that, Boom Boom,” she teased, earning a laugh from Leslie and Lauren.

“Oh, she’s good,” Leslie said, clearly impressed. “I like her. already”

With the teams settled, they quickly outlined a makeshift field, using jackets and chairs to mark the end zones. The game started with lighthearted chaos—Lauren’s twins weaving in and out of the adults, Brisket darting after the ball whenever it hit the ground, and plenty of playful trash-talking between Glen and his sisters.

Gabby surprised herself with how much fun she was having. The competitiveness in Glen’s family was infectious, but it was all in good fun, with plenty of laughter and shouts echoing through the yard.

As the game progressed, Gabby found herself holding her own, even managing to intercept one of Glen’s passes to his dad, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Oh, come on!” Glen called out, throwing his hands up in mock frustration as Gabby smirked at him, holding the ball above her head triumphantly.

“Better luck next time!” she teased before tossing the ball back into play.

It wasn’t long before Gabby found herself in the spotlight again. Lauren had the ball and spotted Gabby open near the end zone.

“Go, Gabby!” she shouted, tossing the ball to her.

Gabby caught it with a slight stumble but quickly recovered, sprinting toward the makeshift goal. She could hear the cheers of encouragement behind her, but she also heard heavy footsteps rapidly closing the distance.

“Not so fast!” Glen called, his voice filled with playful determination.

Before she could react, Glen caught up to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground as she let out a surprised laugh. 

“Glen!” she protested, squirming in his grasp as he spun her around.

“Can’t let you score that easily,” he teased, his grip firm but gentle.

The two of them stood frozen for a moment, Glen still holding her as her feet dangled just above the ground. Gabby’s laughter softened as she looked up at him, her cheeks flushed from both the game and the warmth of his attention.

“Put me down,” she said softly, though there was no real urgency in her voice.

Glen smiled, his eyes locked on hers. “You sure you want me to let go?” he asked, his tone teasing but quiet, as if the world around them had faded into the background.

Gabby nodded, but there was something unspoken in the way they looked at each other. Glen gently set her back on the ground, his hands lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back, clearing his throat.

“You know that was definitely a penalty, right?” Leslie teased, her arms crossed as she walked over to where they stood.

“Blatant holding!” Lauren chimed in, grinning as she pointed at Glen. “You’re lucky we don’t have an official out here.”

Glen smirked, his gaze locked on Gabby as he stepped back. “What can I say? I play to win.”

The game had hit a natural pause as everyone caught their breath and grabbed bottles of water from the cooler Glen’s dad had brought out. The twins ran around chasing Brisket, their high-pitched laughter ringing through the backyard, while Leslie and Lauren teased each other about their next strategy to beat Glen’s team. Gabby stood off to the side, near the edge of the yard, taking in the scene. The chaotic energy of his family surrounded her like a warm hug, but she needed a moment to herself to process everything.

Her eyes found Glen, and she couldn’t help but smile. He was crouched down in the grass, pretending to let the twins tackle him. He made a dramatic show of being "defeated," sprawling onto his back while they piled on top of him, laughing uncontrollably. Gabby could hear their shrieks of joy even from where she stood. Then, with seemingly endless energy, Glen scooped both kids up into his arms and stood, spinning them around while they squealed in delight.

When his mom called something from the patio, Glen turned and shot her a thumbs-up, one of the twins still clinging to his shoulders. It was so effortless—the way he moved between playful uncle, competitive teammate, and devoted son. Watching him like this, Gabby felt something shift inside her.

She’d been falling for him since practically the moment they met, but seeing him here, surrounded by his family, made her feelings undeniable. He wasn’t just kind and funny and protective—he was the kind of man you could settle down and build a life with. He loved so deeply, so fully, and it wasn’t just his family who received that love. It was her too. She could see it in the way he looked at her, in the way he always seemed to know when she needed reassurance, in the way he made her feel like she belonged, even here, surrounded by people she’d only just met.

Her chest tightened as the realization fully hit her. She loved him. She loved Glen Powell with her whole heart, and the weight of that truth was almost overwhelming. She’d thought about love when it came to Glen before—how she might be falling for him, how she might love him. She’d even said it once a few days ago, in a moment of shy honesty, when he’d accidentally confessed his feelings while asking her to come with him to Austin and meet his family. “I think I love you too,” she’d told him then, uncertain but hopeful. But now? Now there was no thinking, no wondering. She knew it. She loved him completely, deeply, without hesitation.

And while the realization filled her with warmth, it also scared her. Loving Glen felt like handing him a piece of herself she wasn’t sure she’d ever given to anyone before. It felt real—and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for how much it mattered.

There was so much they hadn’t faced yet—his grueling filming schedule, his fame and the way it sometimes bled into their private lives, the inevitable times they’d have to spend apart. The longest they’d been away from each other so far was a week, and even that had been hard. Could they really navigate all the challenges waiting for them?

“Hey,” Glen’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she blinked, realizing he was standing right in front of her now. His brow furrowed slightly, his hazel eyes filled with concern. “You okay?”

Gabby nodded quickly, but she could tell by the way his expression didn’t change that he wasn’t convinced.

“I’m fine,” she said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was just… watching you with your family.”

His lips quirked into a small, lopsided grin. “Yeah? What’s the verdict?”

She smiled back, shaking her head. “They’re wonderful. And you’re…” She paused, searching for the right words. “You’re amazing with them. It’s easy to see how much they love you.”

Glen stepped closer, his expression softening with concern. “You sure that’s all that’s on your mind? You looked a little lost in thought back there.”

Gabby hesitated, her heart racing as the words sat on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to say it—to tell him how she felt—but the weight of it, the vulnerability of laying her heart bare, made her chest tighten. What if she messed it up? What if saying it changed everything? Her silence stretched a beat too long, and she saw Glen’s brow furrow slightly, worry creeping into his eyes.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice low and steady. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his touch grounding her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You don’t have to be nervous.”

She swallowed hard, her pulse thundering in her ears. “It’s not that,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... hard to say.”

Glen tilted his head, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Is it bad?” he asked, his voice soft, but she could see the flicker of unease in his expression, as if bracing for something he didn’t want to hear.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “It’s not bad. It’s just... big.” She took a breath, trying to steady herself, and when her eyes met his again, the tenderness in his expression unraveled her completely. 

“I love you,” she finally admitted, her voice trembling.

For a moment, Glen froze, his eyes widening in surprise. Then his face broke into the most genuine smile she’d ever seen, so warm and full of quiet joy that it made her knees feel weak. “You love me?” he repeated softly, his voice filled with wonder, as if he needed to hear it again to believe it.

Gabby nodded, her cheeks flushing as the weight of her confession gave way to relief. “I do,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I’ve felt it for a while, but I guess... I just realized it for sure.”

Glen’s hand lifted to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently across her skin. His smile didn’t falter as he leaned in closer, his voice low and steady. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that,” he murmured.

Gabby leaned into his touch, her chest tightening as he continued.

“I love you too, Gabby,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “So much. More than I can even put into words.”

Gabby’s eyes fluttered closed as she let the moment wash over her, the overwhelming emotion settling into something warm and steady. She knew there were challenges ahead—his career, his fame, the uncertainty of the future—but none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was this. Him. Them.

[ldrfanatic]

sitting in the corner i haunt

Theodore Nott x Reader "13" Series pt 4 warnings - depression, angst, blood, theo gets the dark mark, mentions of suicide, cursing

this chapter is written entirely from theo's point of view

to be added to the taglist, comment; Also I was gonna include so much more in this part but then I realized I was already at 2k words and it was long lol

ps sorry stinks but now that the series is starting to really pick up there's gonna be a lot more angst before reader and theo get their hea

translator series masterlist <previous chapter next chapter>

slytherin boys masterlist works

One thing Theo hadn't expected was for you not to forgive him. He'd figured you'd eventually find out about the bet, but he'd also noticed your crush on him a long long time ago. In all honesty, he'd been hoping and praying that you'd be able to forgive him and the pair of you could move past it.

Turns out those hopes and prayers were falling on empty ears.

He'd spent the remainder of the fall term secluded. At first, he tried to ignore Mattheo and Draco, still too mad at either of them for what they'd coerced him into. Finally he came to terms with the nature of his new relationship with you after what could have been was burned prematurely. Another thing Theo hadn't expected was for you to be the type that burned bridges instead of mending them.

Rather than feel his emotions, Theo had taken to drinking them lately. He tuned out of the various famous Slytherin parties and drank firewhiskey until it felt like his head was screwed on backwards. His groupies didn't stop chasing him, but he'd started hexing them in return.

Nothing serious just the occasional bat-bogey hex. And only at the ones that insulted you. Whether or not you wanted to be, you were still the girl that held his heart. And it was unacceptable for anyone to insult you. Mattheo and Draco had learned that fairly quickly following the incident.

As the Express chugged along the tracks and onto Platform 9 3/4, Theo tried to ignore the twisting in his stomach. Ever since his mother passed away in fourth year, his father had become an unbearable rotter. He knew that with the war looming, this break would be particularly unpleasant. As he retrieved his trunk from above his seat in the compartment, he didn't even bother with useless greetings to his friends. The children of Death Eaters were never cheery at the holidays. Everyone was returning to their own personal nightmare.

Theo used to feel bad for Mattheo's home situation. Used to. Until Mattheo really begun to live up to his father's reputation. Then all sympathy he had for the boy really flew out the window. Mattheo had been a perfectly fine bloke until Christmas of fifth year. When they'd returned in January, he was awful. No explanation, no more apologies. Just downright awful.

The moment his boot touched the platform, Theo apparated to his father's estate.

Nott Manor was in the most horrendous part of England. It was ALWAYS dark and cloudy. The sun was shining so bright at King's Cross, it was nearly headache worthy. But the moment Theo twisted down in front of the gates of his childhood home, the skies were dark, and the air was cold.

To Theo's surprise, Nott Sr was waiting at the door when he finally approached the massive structure.

"Theodore, my boy."

Theo was silent at his father pulled him into an awkward hug. He was being unusual cheery and it was rather unsettling.

"Father?"

If Nott Sr noticed Theo's tone at all, he ignored it. A large grin was spread across his face. It wasn't the kind that Theo had been accustomed to when his mother was alive. This one was creepy and made Theo's skeleton want to climb out of his skin.

"It's time, son. The Dark Lord will be rising soon, and he's calling for us to strengthen our ranks to prepare for the coming war. You'll be getting your mark soon Theodore. Finally."

Fuck.

Thunder rumbled in the sky overhead and Theo jostled awake. He hadn't sat with his friends on the ride back. With the burning in his arm and the screams of whatever poor bastard his father was torturing in the house, he'd barely gotten any sleep over the break. In fact, the burning hadn't stopped. His body was apparently just as unfond of the mark as his heart was.

What he hadn't expected was to see you. Sitting across from him in the compartment, reading a book. Your eyebrows were furrowed and you seemed pretty zoned in to the novel. Theo cleared his throat lightly and immediately regretted it as it sent him into a coughing fit.

You passed him a flask that you had. Theo accepted it with a quick thanks and drank, the cool water soothing his apparently irritated throat. "Not that I'm complaining cuore, but what are you doing here?" He tried to appear cool and calm but inside he was freaking out. How long had you been sitting there? What if you accidentally saw his mark?

If you had seen it, you made no indication. In fact, you didn't even look up from your book.

"I was just walking past and saw your compartment was empty. Astoria has taken a fancy to my dear awful cousin Draco and wanted to sit with him and that repulsive boy Mattheo. I'd much rather not for obvious reasons."

Even though you came from a pureblood family, you'd never taken a shine to that blood purity crap. It was something that Theo and you had in common. Something that he admired about you. Despite constant pressures from your other, darker side of your extended family, the Malfoys.

Finally, your eyes made contact with Theo's and he felt his breath leave his lungs. He could no longer hear the soft chugging of the train. He couldn't even feel the damn thing moving. Every sense in his body was tuned into you. Your voice still lingered in his ears even when you weren't speaking. His eyes feasted on every inch of you that they could catch. Your scent filled his nose and intoxicated his brain.

"I do miss you, Theo."

"I miss you too, cuore. I know that we were never really friends before, but the truth is, I'd gotten used to your presence. Without you..."

Theo didn't finish his sentence and you didn't ask him to. After you'd finished your chapter, you closed the book and set it on the cushion next to you.

"How was your break?"

Theo stared at you thoughtfully. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about his break, hence why he'd been avoiding his friends. At the same time, he'd take any excuse to talk to you. And with his father's words, he'd feared this was his last chance to really converse with you before you positively despised him.

"It was... uneventful."

You stared at him with a look that told him you knew he was lying. Disappointment flashed in your eyes briefly and felt like a knife in his gut.

"We both know that's not true. Draco was boasting about your entire little friend group finally getting their gifts from you-know-who." You shifted in your seat and then leaned forward. The look on your face was so intense, Theo felt that if he looked away, he'd simply burst into flames and die. "But even if Draco hadn't said anything to me, I've had a crush on you for almost as long as I've been alive Theodore Nott. I can tell when you're lying. Especially when you're lying to me."

Theo felt rage building up inside of him. How dare you patronize him like this? You had no right to judge him. You couldn't possibly understand what he was going through. "Whatever. You don't know me, Y/n." He sneered at you. In his heart, Theo was screaming at himself to stop. But even as he saw tears gathering in your eyes, he locked that part of him away. You'd shown him that Theo couldn't afford to be vulnerable. "You've no right to judge me. Following me around for years like some little fangirl. You've no idea what it's like when your father and uncle hold you down while you kick and scream and beg for them to stop. To let you go. To get away from a true monster while he carves his mark into your flesh."

Your face morphed into one of shock.

"What?"

Theo scoffed at your empty question.

"What? That dear cousin of yours forgot to mention the excruciating pain? That he was there with my father and uncle and helped them hold me down so Voldemort could brand me like cattle?"

His questions were rhetorical but it didn't matter. He stood from his seat across from you and exited the compartment at the mark on his arm started to burn. It was time Theodore Nott learned. Feelings were and always would be a weakness.

By the time the middle of the second term rolled around, Theo had come to terms with the dynamics of his feelings for you. He'd learned to push them down and away, and he'd grown accustomed to doing so. Instead, he focused on the task given to him by his father to prep Hogwarts for the Dark Lord to take over. You could still get to him in his dreams and he often awoke with nightmares. You'd appeared to him many times and spewed various levels of nonsense. How you'd never forgive him for this and the like. Usually they ended with Theo consuming enough firewhiskey to put down a horse and then falling into a drunken slumber only to wake up the next day with a hangover from hell.

This continued for a few weeks longer until finally, Pansy Parkinson had enough of his shit. She'd never been a best friend of yours or Theo's, but as a close friend of Draco's she heard constantly about the depression the pair of you had fallen into without one another. She'd figured that she'd have an easier time getting through to Theo than you most likely.

And there she sat. Across the Slytherin Common Room from Theo fixing him with a stare that would make even Nott Sr. rethink his life choices. If monsters were capable of that sort of thing.

"What the hell is wrong with you Theodore?"

"What do you want Parkinson?"

Pansy sighed frustratedly and whacked Theo with her potions textbook before resuming her homework as though she hadn't just left him with a fresh bruise. "I want you to stop being such an idiot. What happened to winning Y/n over?"

"It wasn't working out. Found a new hobby."

"What? Cohorting with the likes of Mattheo Riddle and serving as the Dark Lord's newest little bitch?" Theo glared back at the girl but she continued undeterred. "Besides, if it wasn't working then how come she was in your compartment on the train? That is until you lost your shit on her like a rabid animal."

"She doesn't understand. She never will. Not my fault and certainly not my problem."

"What she understands, Theo, is that she loves you. She always has. And now that she's finally coming back to that, you've gone back to being the insufferable twat that you always are."

Theo lit another cigarette. Pansy eyes rolled so far back Theo thought they might actually get caught at the back of her head.

"She took too long to get there. I've moved on from her."

"Moved on so much that you drink just to sleep and smoke a pack of those disgusting things a day? Moved on so much that when you think no one's looking in potions, you stare at her like she's the only girl in this whole school? Why is it that she waited years for you, and you can't even last a few weeks?"

Theo sat forward and stomped his cigarette out on the cold stone floor. He'd officially had enough of whatever little intervention Pansy thought she was throwing. "Listen Parkinson. This isn't really any of your concern. My feelings for Y/n are a weakness. She's better off without me anyhow."

"Your feelings for her are not a weakness. They are the strength that one day will be the reason you wake up from whatever spell you let your father put you under. You fucked up, and it sucks. But now it's time to grow a pair, and fix it. Or don't. Suffer for all I care but please, if you're gonna die, do it quietly."

Pansy shut her potions textbook and stood from her seat. She marched silently up to the girls dorms. But by the time she'd made it halfway up the stairs, Theo was already gone.

--

wc 2059

3.31.2024

-- taglist - @moonlightreader649