#but then Wednesday evening they tell me it’s Thursday morning and I’m like what??????

[tomwambsmilk]

Ppl really start acting entitled as shit once they make an offer to buy the house you live in

[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement Pt. 10

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: none :)

WC: 3.4k

A/N: hi I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get this out to you all.

The next morning walking into the locker room you could feel your nerve endings start to tingle. No one else knew, no one knew that you and Jessie had kissed, not just once, but multiple times. They also didn���t know that the two of you were going on a date. When you walked up to your locker you couldn’t help but glance at Jessie as she was already sat, putting her boots on.

“Hi.” You greeted her, having to fight back the smile and blush you could feel rising. You’re not sure why suddenly you couldn’t handle yourself around her. It had been no issue before despite your feelings. But maybe now it was the fact that you knew what her lips tasted like, you knew how it felt to have her hands on your face, you knew how she could make you feel.

Wednesday was quick however Thursday dragged on. Training had been ruthless, trying to work out the issues the team had been having, meaning a lot of running.

“Let’s go out for dinner! We all deserve that after today.” You hear Sam starting to gather support for her dinner. A couple teammates started to throw out restaurant suggestions, offering up different places not far from the stadium.

“You coming?” Sam comes over to you.

You freeze, glancing at Jessie beside you who was looking back at you. You quickly look back to Sam, shaking your head quickly. “Um, no, I can’t. I have plans, an appointment, I can’t.” You usually were a good liar, you had been hiding in a lie most of your life, yet your sentence comes out a blabbered mess when you lie to Sam.

“Boo, don’t be a party pooper.” Sam says before patting you on the shoulder and turning to face Jessie. “What about you?”

Jessie looks like a deer in headlights, eyes wide staring back at Sam, she opens her mouth to speak before closing it, no sound coming out. She glances at you, then around the room before back to Sam. “No, I can’t, tonight doesn’t work for me.”

“You both suck.” Sam teases before quickly moving on. “These two have better things to do than hang out with us.” She announces to the rest of the team. You turn to look at Jessie before quickly looking away, you couldn’t be seen looking at her too much, the team couldn’t know.

You finish changing, packing your bag up when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Busy huh?” You turn and Janine has a knowing smile on her face. “Both of you?” She glances down to Jessie’s empty cubby. She had gotten up to go to the restroom a moment ago and Janine saw it as the perfect time to confront you.

“Yeah I guess she has something, I don’t keep up with her schedule.” You shrug. Keeping your eye contact with the bag you try to make it less obvious that you clearly knew of Jessie’s plans for the evening, that you were part of those plans.

“Mhmm, sure.” You catch Jessie’s eye as she walks in from the other side of the room, having to fight back a smile as Janine continues to talk. “Enjoy your ‘appointment’ if that’s what you’re calling her.” That makes your face drop, how did she know?

Janine turns, leaning to whisper something to Jessie as she passes, you watch as Jessie’s face contorts into annoyance before she says something hushed back to Janine.

As Jessie sits down you pull out your phone, sending her a text.

You: Did you tell her?

Jessie Fleming: Tell her what?

Jessie Fleming: Who?

You: Janine, that I was coming over tonight?

Jessie Fleming: No, was I supposed to?

You: No, you can’t be telling people we’re seeing each other.

Jessie Fleming: I didn’t.

As Jessie sends her text you can feel her eyes practically burning holes into the side of your head. You look at her, she throws her hands up, pointing at her phone with a confused look on her face. You wave her off and turn your phone off putting it into your jacket pocket.

You can hear Jessie scrambling to gather her things before the sound of her footsteps follow you down the hallway and out the door of the facility.

“Hey!” She shouts at you before calling your name. You stop only once you reach your car. “What the heck?” Jessie says as she stares at you, one hand bracing herself on your car.

“What?” It was silly to play dumb, you knew why she was following you.

“Are you okay?” Jessie says still a confused look plastered across her face.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Then what was that all about?” She says, a smile breaking across her lips, slightly laughing as she shook her phone at you.

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Jessie reaches her hand out but retracts it when she notices you flinch away slightly, your gaze scanning around the nearly empty parking lot, looking for signs of your teammates or anyone who could see the two of you. You give her a very small nod and Jessie reaches for your hand again.

“I just, I got nervous that Janine knew, she made a comment that made it seem like she knew we were having a date tonight.”

“I didn’t tell her. I wouldn’t at least not without checking with you.” Squeezing your fingers Jessie returns the gesture, squeezing your hand in hers.

“Okay.” You say, still feeling a steady state of stress in your body, not knowing what to think about Janine’s comment or the fact that Jessie was holding your hand in a public parking lot. No one was there but you felt like you could be seen.

“Okay, I’ll still see you tonight then?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod at her before dropping your hand from hers and turning to open your car door.

“Okay, I’m free whenever, if you want to just text me when you’re on the way.” Jessie smiles at you. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” You give her a flash of a smile before ducking into the car, closing the door. Jessie turns walking to her own before turning back to wave at you.

The second you got home you were already itching to be back in Jessie’s presence. Staring down the clock you wondered how long you had to wait for it to feel like an appropriate time to text her telling her you’re on the way. As the clock approaches 5:00 you decide to get off the couch and make a quick stop at the corner store before texting Jessie you were on the way.

“Hi.” The door opens quickly, you barely get a second knock in before your met with Jessie’s smile.

“Hi!” Extending your hand you push the flowers towards her. You can feel your stomach filling with nerves as she takes them, her fingertips brushing against yours. You’d been to Jessie’s apartment plenty of times, never for a date. “It smells good in here!”

“Oh I had a candle going earlier, it’s maple latte scented.”

“I like it.” you say following her out of the entry way. You find yourself admiring her as she walked ahead of you. She was simply dressed, a black shirt and light blue athletic shorts. It was nice, you never felt like you had to overdo it with Jessie, she had insisted you wear comfortable clothing, it was supposed to be a cozy date.

She looks over to the kitchen. “So, everything’s ready for pizzas if you want to eat now, if not we can wait, I wasn’t sure if you ate after training or not.”

“I could eat.” You hadn’t had anything to eat after training, too caught up on when to text Jessie, too caught up in the fact that you were actually going on a date, with her, a date with a girl. You hadn’t even thought to eat.

“Oh good I was hoping you’d say that.” You follow Jessie into the kitchen, immediately overwhelmed by the layout she had going. The countertop is covered in bowls with toppings all neatly cut up. Jessie must’ve noticed the expression on your face to her preparedness. “I know it’s a lot, I wasn’t sure what you liked on your pizza so I sort of got everything.” She gestures to the counter.

“That’s sweet Jess.” You lean over, not thinking twice before planting a kiss on her cheek. Jessie tilts her head down but you catch the way she tries to fight back the grin that grew on her face.

“There’s dough in the fridge.” She says to you as she walks to grab a sheet pan from her cabinet. You open the fridge, grabbing out the bowl with a lump of dough in it, placing it on the counter.

“Give me your hands.” Listening to her, you extend your hands in Jessie’s direction before she coats them with a small amount of flour. “Now the dough won’t stick.” Coating her own hands after Jessie reaches for the bowl, splitting the ball of dough into fourths before putting one in front of you. “Just roll it however thick you want, then we’ll cook them for a bit and then toppings.”

“Did you hand make this?”

“Yeah, I did, yesterday though because once you make it you have to let it sit.” Jessie grabs a rolling pin, handing it to you before starting to flatten her own ball of dough with her hands.

“Where’d you learn that?”

“I’ve always really liked cooking and baking. Cooking is cool because you can experiment with it more, baking has to be a bit more precise it’s more of a science. It’s always been something I’ve been around I guess, it’s something my Mom really enjoys. I always wanted to help her in the kitchen, I think mostly as a kid I wanted to lick the spoon and taste everything. Then as I got older it was more about spending time with her and my grandma too, she loved baking as well. It’s just comforting to me, especially when I get to do it with someone, or for someone.” She continued to roll her dough while speaking, you on the other hand caught up in her taking had yet to roll out yours at all. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, it’s nice, I like hearing about those things. I’ve started to like cooking since I’ve been on my own. I didn’t have much influence from my parents on that as a kid.” You can almost feel the uncomfortable tension that you created bringing up your parents. It wasn’t often you spoke of them, but when you did you knew the reaction you’d get from people around you. Some uncomfortable not knowing the situation with your parents, some trying to change the subject to a completely different topic, dismissing everything you said, some give you the look of pity knowing your relationship with them is poor.

Jessie didn’t do any of those options. “Maybe we could do a cooking class sometime, you know where they bring in a chef and they teach you some really cool special recipe? If that’s something you’d like?”

She didn’t look at you with pity, she didn’t completely disregard your comment, still acknowledging your interest in cooking, but not lingering on the unsettling topic of your parents. She somehow always knew what to say, how to make you feel comfortable.

“I think that could be cool.” You nod at her before finally starting to roll out your own dough, glancing over every few seconds to watch Jessie, trying to match her actions. The two of you roll out all the dough into a couple mini pizzas and Jessie sticks them in the oven, setting a timer before walking into her living room.

She shows you a few games she had gotten out, as well as a few movie options, as she stands looking at a cabinet of stuff you look around her place, you’d seen it a hundred times, but still it felt like you were seeing it in a different light now. Your eyes fall on the table beside her couch, a stack of photos sitting there. What catches your eye is that your own face is looking back at you.

“Oh, those are the film photos, I finally got them developed.” The photos are quickly scooped up into Jessie’s hands and she sits down on the couch, patting beside you to come sit by her. “From the day we walked around, so a lot of them are of you, see?” She begins flipping through them, photos of downtown, of people, signs, birds, cars, capturing the essence of Portland. Then there’s photos of you. Similar to the digital ones she had show you, you find yourself actually enjoying the photos, you aren’t repulsed or uneasy looking at them.

“You know,” you start, “you’re the only person who’s made me not hate photos of myself.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, that was depressing, it came out wrong, I meant it as a compliment.”

“No I know you did, I just,” she pauses looking at you, “I don’t see how you could hate a photo of yourself, you’re perfect.”

“Stop.” You look down to your lap, unable to maintain eye contact with Jessie any longer.

“No seriously.” She goes to reach for your face before pulling her hand back and whispering a quick apology. You grab her hand that was retreating and place it onto your cheek, you didn’t want her to be scared to touch you, you trusted her.

When your eyes meet you can read the look in her eyes, the way they dart down to your lips, the way her tongue quickly wets her bottom lip. You can’t resist her, leaning in to meet her lips with your own your hands fall to her lap, bracing yourself on her thighs.

The two of you get lost in your own world. The warmth of her hand on your cheek, the feeling of her thighs under your fingers, the way you can smell her shampoo over the smell of the candle, the way her lips are soft on yours, the kiss is firm but her lips are soft. Jessie leans further into the kiss, encouraging you to lean back as her tongue traces your bottom lip. Her body slightly hovers over your own, her chest against yours, you could live in this feeling forever. Forever is cut short by the timer on the oven going off.

You both let out sounds of disappointment when your lips part followed by small laughs. “Guess we should go finish making dinner.” Jessie hops off the couch extending her hand to help you up. She keeps her fingers intertwined with yours as she walks both of you to the kitchen. Grabbing a hot pad she gets out the partially baked dough placing them on the counter. The two of you put sauce and toppings on your pizza before sticking them back in the oven.

“Hey, you’ve got a little something right, there.” Jessie says bringing her finger to your nose, only instead of cleaning anything off, she wipes sauce from her finger onto your nose.

“Hey!” Your jaw drops at Jessie’s behavior. She’s staring back at you with a shit eating grin across her face. Her smile drops when she sees you stick your own finger into the bowl of sauce before lunging in her direction. She lets out a scream and runs away, making you chase her around the kitchen island. You both make a few laps before she lets you catch her, backing her into the corner of the kitchen. “Looks like you’ve got something, here, and here, and here.” You put sauce on her cheeks before on her lips, quickly following your finger with your lips gently kissing the sauce off.

“You know, for someone who’s never really dated, you’re incredibly smooth.”

“Thanks.” You say before stepping back, giving her personal space. The two of you chat, discussing that day’s training while you waited for the pizza to be done. When the oven timer finally rang again you played your pizzas and followed Jessie to the table. The two of you played cards while eating, adding in conversation about training, the weather, your plans for the off season.

You offered to clear the plates ones you both had finished eating. When you returned to Jessie’s living room she was sitting on the couch. “Movie time?”

“Yeah, sure.” You looked at her and then at the couch. There was space on either side of Jessie, she sat near the middle. You chose to sit on her left side, the side closest to you, it seemed like the easiest choice. As the movie started you were unsure of how to sit, feeling incredibly stiff and suddenly overly aware of every move and breath Jessie took.

Were you at the point of cuddling? You weren’t even sure if you felt comfortable with the idea of cuddling her. You liked her, there was no denying that, you just had never cuddled with another girl, not in a romantic way. You thought it was all in your head, apparently not as Jessie places a hand on your thigh. “You know you can relax, you don’t have to sit so stiff.”

“Oh, I just, I’m not used to this, I wasn’t sure.” You glance at her out of the side of your eye.

“That’s fine, you just look uncomfortable.”

“Yeah.”

“Here, lean toward me.” Jessie opens her arms, shifting her body to face you a little bit more. You lean back slightly putting your back halfway on her chest and shoulder. One of Jessie’s arms wraps around your waist, the other remains at her side. “More comfortable?”

“Yeah.” It was not only comfortable but it felt safe, Jessie’s front against your back, her arm around your waist, you felt safe. You could feel the rise and fall of Jessie’s chest with each breath, you could hear her soft laughs at the movie, her breath close against your face. So caught up in the feeling of Jessie’s body you nearly forget you're watching a movie, feeling as though you have no idea what you just watched when the credits start to roll across the screen.

You shift, leaning forward and off of Jessie. “I guess I should get going.” You clap your hands onto your knees before standing up from the couch. When you turn Jessie looks surprised.

“Oh, yeah, of course, yes sure.” Jessie nods rapidly standing up to mirror you. You head toward the door, grabbing your shoes and bending down to tie them. When you stand back up you are startled with how closely Jessie is standing to you.

“I had a really nice time tonight Jessie.” You reach a hand out placing it on Jessie’s forearm. “Thank you.”

“Of course, I also really had a nice time.” The two of you stand, fidgeting with your hands while Jessie’s fingers pull at her shirt as she sways her weight side to side on her feet.

“Um, so next time, maybe I can, I can, set something up for us to do?” You look at her.

“A second date?”

You're suddenly racking your brain for date ideas. You’d never taken anyone on a date, you’d been on dates, just never one you were planning. “Yeah, I want to take you on a date. I’ll uh, send you the details, once I figure them out.”

“That sounds great. Still on for our regular coffee tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight Jessie.” You look at her, she’s looking at you, were you supposed to kiss her, you’d kissed already today, but were you on a goodbye kiss basis yet?

“Goodnight, text me when you get home.”

“I will.” You reach your hand behind you, grabbing the door handle and twisting it before opening the door slightly. “Goodnight.” You give in to your desire, quickly dropping the door letting it close and leaning to kiss Jessie quickly. When you pull back from her you’re both smiling, matching blushes. “Okay, now I’m actually leaving, goodnight Jessie.”

[mangosrar]

call it what you want part9

matt sturniolo x fem reader.

MY TAGLIST STILL ISNT WORKING 🫠🫠🫠

6 days. it has been 6 days since you had spoken to matt. he had turned up at your house on monday morning to take you to school. but you had decided on sunday night you weren’t going. you couldn’t face him. you didn’t want to.

he showed up again tuesday. and when you didn’t even tell him to leave, he knocked on your door to be met with nothing. he stood out there for a whole 17 minutes before accepting defeat and leaving.

wednesday, the same story. he showed up, you didn’t come out. he knocked. no answer. he left.

thursday he even went as far as knocking, getting no answer and then sitting outside, repeatedly pressing the horn for almost 4 minutes straight, and then eventually giving up.

but when friday rolled around, matt sent an alliance to your door.

“y/n. it’s me open up” you heard him say. his voice was muffled from the thick wooden barrier between you both.

you stood staring at the door, contemplating wether to open it or not, like you had every day this week. you knew matt would turn up but this wasn’t his fault. he didn’t deserve to be shut out because of his piece of shit brother.

you sighed before reluctantly opening the door, coming face to face with the one person who knows you best. chris sturniolo.

“oh y/n” he breathed, frowning at your state as he stepped inside.

your hair was a mess, and dark circles donned your eyes. your face was pale, like you were sick.

“how you feeling?” he questioned looking down at you. it was a really stupid question. he could tell you were doing terribly just by looking at you, but he would never admit that out loud.

you just shrugged and looked down at your feet. chewing on your lip. there was no way to even put into words how you’ve been feeling. so for a lack of a better term, fucking horrible.

“i don’t know exactly what happened… but matts doing terrible too” he stated.

“i bet he is chris” you replied sarcastically. rolling your eyes.

“he’s been asking about you every day, he even tried talking to caden at school. he’s a mess y/n” chris sighed. looking at you with pleading eyes.

“you can go back to hating him, but i think you should just talk to eachother, it would be a waste for things to end like this” he told you.

there was an internal battle going on inside your head. part of you was a little warm inside over the fact he was worried and asking after you, the other part was enraged over the fact he had the audacity to be upset over his own actions. he deserved to dwell in your absence. why should you forgive him. he had hurt you and he had to live with that.

chris stood there, watching the cogs turn in your head. he knew you were stubborn, but he also knew his brother was 10 times more stubborn, so the fact that he was willing to admit he was wrong and do everything in his power to get you to listen, was shocking.

“is he outside?” pointless question. you knew he was.

chris nodded, standing infront of you with his arms by his sides.

you took in a breath before muttering.

“give me 15 minutes”.

-

the whole car ride was uncomfortable. chris had forced you into the passenger seat and it made you want to grab the wheel and run the car off the road, but you decided against it.

luckily for you, matt had used his common sense. he look one look at you and kept his mouth shut, just offering a small smile to witch you did not return.

he didn’t deserve it. he did not deserve the satisfaction of thinking there was any chance you were ever going to forgive him. because as far as you were aware, you weren’t going to.

up until 2 weeks ago you and matt couldn’t stand the sight of each other, so after 14 days of slightly less hatred, going back to your old ways wouldn’t harm anyone.

“i’m gonna give you two time to talk” chris muttered, opening the car door and stepping out.

you hadn’t even realised you had arrived at school. the whole way there you had been aimlessly gorming out the window, trying to stop yourself from screaming.

you wanted to get out of the car and sprint in the opposite direction. there was no way matt could justify himself, but you at least wanted to hear whatever sorry excuse he would come up with, so you stayed put.

there was an abundant pause, the both of you just sitting there. you couldn’t even look at him out of fear you might just slap him across the face there and then, but you could feel matts eyes burning into the side of your head as you stared out of the front window with your arms crossed.

matt turned his body towards you, opening his mouth to speak, but the words got caught in his throat, he didn’t even know what he would say. he sighed before dropping his head.

“i’m sorry” he mumbled.

his eyes wandered back up to your face, and when you didn’t even flinch, he continued.

“there’s no excuse for what i said. it was so fucked up. and i don’t think what i said is true y/n. i don’t think you’re damaged and i don’t think you’re weak. i was just something i said out of anger, but that isn’t an excuse. angry or not i shouldn’t have said it” he stated softly. like the distinct tone of his voice would determine how this was going to go.

“i showed up every day this week trying to get you out of the house y/n, does that not show you how sorry i am?” he added.

“oh so you showing up, and banging on my door for 15 minutes every morning makes it okay?” you spat at him. still not looking at his face.

“no, no of course not but… i’m trying y/n, i’m really trying” he sighed.

you just shook your head, keeping your eyes trained forward.

matt swallowed, eyes darting across the side of your face, frantically trying to read your mind.

“if i could go back in time and change what i said i promise i would” he whispered, leaning over the centre console slightly.

he didn’t know why he was beating himself up so much. he’s said stuff like this before with out even batting an eyelid, so why now?

his heartbeat quickened when you slowly craned your neck to face him.

there was a blank look spread across your features that he couldn’t place.

you took in a breath, and blinked at him, pursing your lips before speaking.

“go fuck your self” and with that you were shoving the car door open and getting out.

you could hear him calling after you but you didn’t care. you continued marching across the parking lot towards the school doors. leaving him there once again to wallow in the knowledge that he had hurt you to an extent that was fucking unforgivable.

-

“nope. not happening” chris said.

“why chris? this is a good way for me to stay calm” you whined.

“turning to drugs and getting high is a bad way to deal with your emotions y/n” he tutted.

“you do it. so what you’re saying is that you are bad at dealing with your emotions?” you quirked. coming to a stop when chris got to his locker.

“deflecting is not gonna get you what you want” he spoke, looking at you briefly with a flat expression before turning back to his locker.

“ughhh, look, i’m dealing with my emotions. i’m sad and i’m angry at your brother. i know how i feel. i just wanna smoke so i can take the edge off” you said shrugging.

he shook his head slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line, standing his ground.

“come on chris” you whispered, looking up at him with big round eyes.

he sighed before closing his locker and turning to you.

“i’ll let you smoke under one condition” he stated.

you nodded your head excitedly and grinned waiting for him to continue.

“you have to come to that party on sunset” he smiled sarcastically.

you hated parties and chris knew that, so if he asked you to go, he knew you would refuse, and that would be his get out of jail free card as to not let you get high.

he blinked at you with a smirk on his face, because in his head neither of you were gonna get what you wanted.

“okay” you shrugged.

“‘okay’?” he exclaimed, “you’ll go?”

“yeah why not, maybe i’ll find another dark tattood, handsome man to sweep me off my feet” you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“so what you’re saying is that you think matt is handsome and he swept you off your feet?” he giggled, wiggling his eyebrows back.

your face dropped and you swatted his arm, trying to hide your smile, he just dodged you, carrying on laughing as he walked down the hall with you trailing behind.

-

“ok but if i wear the black one the shoes won’t match” you ranted holding the shirt up to your chest in the mirror.

this had been going on for about an hour. nick ans chris had been sat on your bed, waiting for you to get ready.

at first you were all listening to music, talking and laughing, but by the time you had re applied your makeup for the second time, and re curled your hair for the third time, chris had gotten bored and fallen asleep, and nick had just simply lost interest and started staring at the wall.

“i don’t wanna wear these shoes”

“the white shirt is so cute though”

“but the sleeves are weird”

“i’m not going”

“y/n!” nick yelled, snapping you out of your frenzy and waking chris up.

you turned to him with wide eyes at his sudden outburst.

“we were supposed to leave an hour ago, wear the black shirt with the white shoes” he breathed, closing his eyes, briefly before opening them and looking at you with a hard stare.

“fine” you replied, rolling your eyes and stomping over to your bathroom to change.

“what if matts there?” you yelled through the door, pulling your shirt over your head.

“he won’t be” chris yelled back.

you didn’t say anything else as you straightened the top out and fixed your hair. there was a small tiny microscopic piece of you that wished he would be there. not so you could talk or anything. just so he could see you enjoying yourself, but the way this night was going. you highly doubted you would.

-

the strong smell of alcohol and weed wafted through the air as you made your way through the house, chris close on your tail.

there were people everywhere some of wich you recognised, some you didn’t, all sandwiched together, and it only made you question why people enjoyed parties more.

you had been here for almost an hour now and you hadn’t left chris’s side once. he had been catching up with some old friends who moved town when they were younger, but you just stood quietly scoping the area.

so far you we’re safe. no matt. no elijah. and you hoped it would stay that way, partially.

“hey i’m gonna go grab a drink” you said, pulling on chris’s arm to get his attention.

he nodded, and started saying his goodbyes to his friends, telling them he would see them later, indicating he was coming with you.

there was a large table in the middle of the kitchen, full of alcoholic drinks and right now, to you, it looked like it was glowing.

“you’re drinking?” chris questioned with his eyebrows pinched together.

“yeah why not?” you shrugged, reaching for the vodka bottle and a red solo cup.

“whatever just….don’t get too drunk” chris laughed, but his voice carried a warning tone.

you just rolled your eyes before pouring both you and Chris a shot, and handing him the cup.

“here’s to, handsome dark tattooed men, aka matt” Chris laughed before bringing the cup up to his mouth.

you just shook your head, smiling before also taking the shot.

your face scrunched up at the taste in your mouth, it was horrible. but the feel of it burning in your chest was thrilling.

you never really drank. sure you’d had alcohol before, but always in an environment where you were comfortable, like you’re own house while your parents were asleep, or nicks room while his parents were away for the weekend, never in the heat of a raging house party.

“hey, i’m gonna use the bathroom i’ll be right back” chris said, raising his voice slightly over the music.

you just hummed a reply before watching him walk away, and then turning back to the table of drinks.

fireball.

you poured the shot and downed it instantly. better than vodka, still gross.

one more couldn’t hurt.

you poured the shot again, bringing it to your lips, and just as the hot liquid entered your mouth. a voice appeared behind you.

“thirsty?”

fuck.

you ignored him completely, bringing the cup back down and placing it on the table.

“didn’t think i’d see you here, this isn’t really your scene” he told you, coming around to the side of you and leaning on the table.

you ignored him again, pouring yet another shot.

“then again, matt sturniolo isn’t really your scene, somehow you’re all over him” he muttered in a low voice, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him looking around.

he was just as paranoid as you were.

“who i’m all over is none of your business anymore elijah” you sighed, turning to him and smiling sarcastically. but someone else caught your eye.

a dark, tattooed, handsome man who could easily sweep you off your feet.

he was watching you. his gaze strong and jaw clenched. and suddenly elijahs voice became a ringing in your ears.

you could have crumbled there and then, he looked good. his tattoos on full display, slight stubble growing, that you had noticed this morning but you were too fucking angry to register it.

his eyes stayed locked on yours, daring you to look away, and when you didn’t, he pushed off the wall he was leaning on, and sauntered over to you.

“….and as far as i’m awar-“

“hey baby” matt cooed, cutting elijah off and wrapping an arm around your waist.

you wanted to pull away. you were still angry at him, but for the sake of the act, you stayed put.

elijah scoffed, looking matt up and down like he was scum of the earth.

your eyes darted between the two, waiting in expectancy for one of them to talk.

“you gotta tell me how you do it sturniolo, you’re always there, you know? waiting to pounce every time i talk to her. maybe i should be concerned. are you stalking me?” elijah questioned. he was trying to get under matts skin, and the way he squeezed your waist slightly, told you it was working.

matt laughed slightly, looking off to the side before bringing his eyes back to elijah.

“well if you wasn’t always bothering my girlfriend, i wouldn’t have to be there every time you talk to her” he shrugged, smiling sarcastically at your ex.

matt turned to you, pulling his eyebrows together.

“is he bothering you sweetheart?” he asked.

you just looked at him with wide eyes. silently begging him not to do anything.

yes you and matt hated each other, but you knew him well enough to know he would use any excuse to punch someone. and elijahs face had been served to him on a silver platter.

“i think you’re bothering her Whitlock” he stated, removing his arm from your waist and stepping in front of you.

“matt” you mumbled. he ignored you.

elijah laughed and dropped his head, standing up fully, like he was trying to intimidate matt but the odds were even. there was no turning back now.

when elijah brought his eyes back up, they landed on yours, his gaze was cold and unsettling, but the words that came out of his mouth, didn’t mean half as much to you as they did matt.

“considering she’s such a slut, i don’t think she minds who bothers her”.

oh shit.

——————————————————————————

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[blingblong55]

Softly enchanted - Simon "Ghost" Riley

---- F!Reader, fluff, established!relationship, birthday girl!reader, ----

A/N: Happy birthday to all the June pookies <3

The week leading up to your birthday is a whirlwind of anticipation and subtle planning on Simon’s part. You’re vaguely aware that he’s up to something, but every time you try to pry information out of him, he only smirks and changes the subject. It's adorable the way he tries to hide away his plans and you let it happen.

It starts on Monday morning. You’re getting ready for work when Simon leans against the bathroom door, watching you with an amused expression. “Got any special plans for your birthday, love?” You glance at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Just curious. Thought maybe you’d want to do something different this year.”

You smile, turning to face him. “Honestly, Simon, I just want a quiet day at home. Nothing too fancy.” You did enjoy last year, he and you cuddled in bed, watching a shitty comedy film on the tablet he gave you two birthdays ago.

His eyes twinkle with mischief, the oh-so-same stare he gave you many moons ago when he asked you to be his wife. “Are you sure? It’s your birthday, after all. You deserve to be spoiled, lovie.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You always spoil me. Let’s just have a simple day, okay?”

He nods, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. “Alright, lovie. If that’s what you want.”

Throughout the week, Simon continues to drop little hints and ask questions that make you wonder what he’s up to. On Wednesday, you’re curled up on the couch with a book when he sits down beside you, a thoughtful look on his face.

“When you were a kid, what was your favourite birthday?” he asks suddenly.

You glance up, surprised by the question. “Hmm, probably the ones where we went to the carnival. It was always so much fun, with the rides and games. I miss those days.” It's questions like these that remind you of why he and you fell in love. He always asked good questions, wanting to know you more by your memories and emotions than anything else.

He nods, filing the information away. “Sounds like a great time.”

On Thursday, you find him browsing something on his phone, a secretive smile playing on his lips. “What are you looking at?” you ask, leaning over to get a peek.

He quickly locks the screen, chuckling. “Nothing you need to worry about, birthday girl.”

You narrow your eyes at him, playfully suspicious. “You’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he says, his grin widening. “But you’ll just have to wait and see.” What is ironic is he can keep military plans and secrets to himself without even letting his body tell you otherwise but when it comes to you or anything that surrounds you, his body gives him away. His smile is wide as he tries to keep in all the little lies he's been planning.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re more curious than ever about what Simon has in store. He’s been extra attentive all week, making sure you’re happy and relaxed. That evening, as you’re getting ready for bed, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Looking forward to tomorrow?” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. You nod, leaning into his embrace. “As long as I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.” He presses a kiss to your neck, sending a shiver down your spine, “I promise it will be.”

The sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. You stir, feeling the warmth of Simon’s arm wrapped around you. His steady breaths are a comforting rhythm, a reminder of his presence. You nuzzle closer, not quite ready to leave the cocoon of warmth and safety his embrace provides. “Morning, birthday girl,” Simon’s deep voice rumbles softly in your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Morning,” you murmur, smiling as you feel his lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He pulls you closer, his grip tightening slightly as if to say he never wants to let you go. “Any special requests for today?” he asks, though you’ve had this conversation before. You shake your head. “Just want to stay home, something simple and private.” Simon’s eyes soften as he looks at you. “If that’s what you want, lovie, that’s what we’ll do.”

It was times like these he could give you the world at the plea of your voice.

The morning passes in a blur of lazy kisses and whispered sweet nothings. The two of you cook breakfast together, bumping hips and sharing laughter in the small kitchen. You’ve always cherished these quiet moments, when the world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble.

After breakfast, you both settle on the couch, and he surprises you with a small box wrapped in delicate paper. "Open it," he encourages with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You unwrap the box carefully, revealing a beautiful necklace with a pendant shaped like a heart. Your breath catches. "Simon, it's beautiful." He helps you put it on, his fingers grazing your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Not as beautiful as you," he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear.

Lunch is a cosy affair at the dining table, simple yet perfect. Simon surprises you with your favourite dish, a testament to how well he knows you. “How did you know?” you ask, marvelling at the spread. He winks. “I’ve got my ways.” In truth, he had heard you talk with your mum about craving that one dish you ate as a kid and still adored. After all, he is a military man, he has his own ways of knowing everything.

After lunch, you settle on the couch, cuddling up under a blanket as you watch a movie. Simon’s fingers trace idle patterns on your arm, his touch sending sparks of warmth through you. You’re content, happy to spend the day in the comfort of your home with the person you love.

As the afternoon sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the room, Simon sits up and stretches. “Fancy a pizza for dinner?” You laugh, shaking your head. “We just had lunch, and you’re already thinking about dinner?” He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What can I say? I’m a planner.” He truly was a planner, always needing to know the next move before it even happened.

“Alright,” you agree, not suspecting a thing. “Pizza sounds good.” You grab your jacket, and Simon does the same, leading you out to his car. The drive is peaceful, the radio playing softly in the background. You lean your head against the window, watching the scenery pass by. It isn’t until you see the bright, colourful lights in the distance that you realize something’s up. “Simon, where are we going?”

He glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just a little detour.” As you get closer, you recognize the familiar sights and sounds of a carnival. Your heart skips a beat, memories of childhood birthdays flooding back. You turn to Simon, eyes wide with disbelief. “You listened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “Of course, I did, lovie,” he says, parking the car and turning to face you. “Happy birthday,” he takes your hand in his, kissing it and caressing with his thumb the ring he oh so proudly gave you.

Tears spring to your eyes, a mix of joy and nostalgia overwhelming you. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He reaches out, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Anything for you.” Hand in hand, you walk through the entrance, the vibrant energy of the carnival washing over you. The smell of cotton candy and popcorn fills the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and music. You feel like a kid again, the world around you bursting with colour and excitement.

You stop at a game booth, eyeing the prizes with a gleam of determination. “Think you can win me one of those?” you tease, pointing at a stuffed bear. Simon chuckles, stepping up to the challenge. “Watch and learn.” To your delight, he manages to win the bear on his first try, presenting it to you with a proud smile, “for the lady.” You laugh, accepting the bear and kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you, my hero.” The two of you spend hours exploring the carnival, riding the rides, playing games, and indulging in all the treats. Simon’s hand never leaves yours, his touch a constant reminder of his love and care. Every time you catch his eye, he’s smiling, his happiness infectious.

At one point, you stop by a booth selling colourful balloons. Simon insists on buying you one, choosing a bright red balloon that contrasts beautifully with the evening sky. You carry it with you, its string tied to your wrist, feeling a giddy sense of joy every time it bobs in the air. As the night falls and the stars begin to twinkle in the sky, you find yourselves at the Ferris wheel. Simon buys your tickets, leading you to the gondola. You settle in, the seat rocking gently as the wheel begins to turn. The higher you go, the more breathtaking the view becomes, the carnival lights sparkling below like a sea of stars.

At the top, the Ferris wheel pauses, leaving you suspended in a moment of perfect stillness. You turn to Simon, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. “This is amazing,” you whisper. He smiles, his eyes soft and full of affection, “I’m glad you think so. I wanted today to be special for you.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s perfect, Simon. Thank you.” He wraps an arm around you, holding you close. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair.

Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time they’re tears of pure joy. “This is all I ever wanted,” you confess, your voice trembling with emotion. “To feel free and happy, just like when I was a kid.” Simon tilts your chin up, his eyes locking with yours. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, lovie. And I’ll do everything I can to make sure you have it.” You kiss him then, pouring all your love and gratitude into the embrace. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in your little universe. When you finally pull back, you’re both smiling, the connection between you stronger than ever.

As the Ferris wheel resumes its gentle rotation, you snuggle closer to Simon, basking in the warmth of his love. You watch the world go by below, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that you haven’t felt in a long time.

The ride ends all too soon, but the magic of the evening lingers. You walk hand in hand back to the car, your heart full to bursting. Simon opens the door for you, helping you in before climbing in himself. The drive home is quiet, and both of you are lost in your thoughts. When you finally pull into the driveway, you turn to Simon, your heart overflowing with love. “Thank you for today,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “It was perfect.”

He reaches over, taking your hand in his. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Y/N. You deserve it.” You lean over, kissing him softly. “I love you, Simon.” He smiles, his eyes shining with affection. “I love you too, lovie. More than you’ll ever know.” With that, you head inside, ready to end the perfect day in the arms of the man you love. As you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but think about how lucky you are to have someone like Simon in your life. Someone who listens, who cares, and who loves you with all his heart.

The next morning, you wake up feeling light and joyful. Simon is already awake, propped up on one elbow as he watches you with a tender smile. "Good morning, birthday girl. How does it feel to be a year older?" You stretch and yawn, a grin spreading across your face. "It feels wonderful, especially after yesterday. Thank you for making it so special."

"Anything for you, lovie," he says, leaning down to give you a sweet kiss. "How about we continue the celebration with a special breakfast?"

You sit up, your curiosity piqued. "Special breakfast?" He nods, his eyes twinkling. "Pancakes with all your favourite toppings." You follow him to the kitchen, where he prepares a stack of fluffy pancakes, topping them with fresh berries, whipped cream, and a drizzle of maple syrup. You can't help but laugh at the sight. "You're spoiling me, Simon."

"That's the plan," he says with a wink. As you sit down to eat, you take a moment to reflect on everything Simon has done for you. His love and thoughtfulness have made your birthday unforgettable, and you feel a deep sense of gratitude. After breakfast, you decide to go for a walk in the nearby park. The sun is shining, and the air is crisp and fresh. Hand in hand, you stroll along the paths, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together. Simon stops suddenly, pulling you close. “You know, Y/N, yesterday made me realize how much I love seeing you happy. Your smile is the best thing in the world.”

You blush, leaning into him. “You make me so happy, Simon. Thank you for everything.”

He kisses you softly, his eyes full of love. “I’ll always do my best to make you happy, lovie. That’s a promise.”

You continue your walk, talking about everything and nothing, savouring the moments of peace and contentment. When you finally head back home, you know that this birthday will be one you’ll cherish forever. The rest of the day is spent in blissful relaxation, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. As the sun sets, casting a warm glow over the room, Simon pulls you into his arms once more.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice full of love and promise. “Here’s to many more.” You smile, feeling your heart swell with happiness. “Here’s to many more,” you echo, knowing that as long as you have Simon by your side, every day will be special.

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[messedupfan]

Chapter 23

Summary: In order to have a dating life without the pressure of friends and family knowing, Wanda and Reader plan dates to meet at each other's places for romantic dinners. They tend to dance a lot.

A/n: Sorry y'all meant to post earlier today but had to walk Brady then had to make my food. I apologize for any and all errors, I haven't really been editing the chapters since I've gotten so busy but I LOVE this story sooooo much! I hope y'all enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist  | All Chapters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The alarm on your phone wakes you. It’s early on a Monday morning. The sun isn’t up yet but you have to be in order to make it to the job site at your scheduled time. You wish you could sleep in, but unfortunately you won’t get to do that for the next four mornings. As you yawn and stretch, you feel a hand pull you down. “No,” she groans, making you laugh as you continue to stretch. 

“I have work,” you remind her as you fall against her. Feeling your normally tense body relax into her warm embrace. Your muscles feel like jelly and you want to close your eyes for just five more minutes. But you don’t. You just know that those five minutes could be ten, twenty, an hour, or worse.  

“No,” she repeats as she snuggles closer, her eyes remaining closed as she does. 

“And what do I tell your brother when he calls asking me why I’m not at work?” You ask as you adjust to look at her. Wanda’s hair is a mess, her face is a little puffier than usual, she looks serene. You cup her cheek with your hand and lightly rub your thumb back and forth. 

Wanda leans into your touch and a content sigh escapes her lips. “Easy, you don’t answer,” she smirks as she presses her lips to the palm of your jaw. You shake your head with a soft laugh.

“So I shouldn’t tell him that his twin is refusing to let me leave her bed?” you tease and Wanda scrunches her face. She pushes you back and you grin.

“Gross, he’ll think we’re doing a lot more than snuggling and sleeping,” she covers her face as she shakes her head. Then she finally opens her eyes. “Besides, I think that goes against that whole keeping this between us thing.” 

You lean in and kiss her cheek, “Exactly, I’m going. Have a good day,” you swiftly move out of the warmth of the cozy bed and her arms and Wanda pouts as you do but she doesn’t put up more of a resistance. She sighs with a slight disappointment this time as the bed grows cool in your absence. She climbs out and stretches as she wakes her body up. 

“Are you going to come back tonight?” She asks as she shamelessly watches you undress. The two of you are still waiting to be physically intimate as the two of you continue to develop the emotional intimacy of the relationship in order to build a strong foundation. But as her eyes roam your body, she is beginning to forget why the two of you need to wait in the first place. 

You are lost in thought as you change and consider your answer. Uncertain if today is the day you had to pick up Rachel and Jean from the airport. It has been two weeks since the disastrous first date. You and Wanda had your second date on Wednesday of that week then your third and fourth that weekend. The week she had her boys, you needed to work on finishing orders for your side business and Wanda would sneak in from time to time to chat and maybe the two of you even made out a couple of times. 

Last night wasn’t a date outside of the house. It wasn’t even meant to be a date. It was a last minute invite and you weren’t up for much because you were working all Saturday and most of yesterday working for a delivery service to help catch up on the bills. “Um, let me check my,” you pick up your phone and look up the flight itinerary for Rachel and Jean. “Yeah, I can come back tonight. I don’t pick up the girls until Thursday… morning? Ugh, that’s going to be brutal. I need to warn your brother.” 

Wanda shakes her head with a disgusted expression. “Please, just say boss. It’s hurting my brain how much you have to run by my brother.” 

You smile and nod as you pull your work polo over your head and arms and straighten yourself out. “Alright, that’s not a problem,” you walk across the room towards her and wrap your arms around her and give her a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you,” you say. 

Wanda scrunches her nose as she catches a whiff of your sour morning breath, but she kisses you again anyway. “I love you and your stinky breath.” 

You wink at her with a wide grin before walking to her bathroom to use the toothbrush that you left here the last time.  You start brushing your teeth and she follows to brush her teeth at the sink next to the one you’re standing in front of. When the two of you exchange a glance, you wink at her and she shakes her head. 

~~~~

Wanda looks at her phone as she receives the last message you’ll be sending her for the rest of the week. Even though it’s the middle of the summer, you are finally taking Rachel on the annual camping trip. “Why do you look upset?” Pietro asks as he tries to look over her shoulder to get a glance at her screen just in case it’s a message from Vision. 

Wanda is quick to hide her phone. “Dude! Mind your business!” She says with the screen of her phone pressed against her chest. 

“Dude? Really? What are we, twelve?” He shakes his head and grabs a handful of chips from the bowl on the coffee table. 

“Yeah, when you’re trying to look at my phone and you’re eating like that!” Wanda doubles down and Pietro slows down his chewing but his mouth is still full of chips, giving him chipmunk cheeks. 

“What?” He asks dumbly. Wanda shakes her head and looks back at her phone as she tries to think of a response to your message before it’s too late. “This is my house, you know?” Pietro states as he adds the rest of the fist full of chips into his mouth. 

Wanda is visiting to finally meet her new niece. She has spent a couple hours doting over the baby while she anxiously checked her phone for messages from you. Now her boys are with their aunt, she is watching them as they each take turns holding the baby in the rocking chair in the nursery. Pietro told her that you had gifted it and Wanda recalls watching you make pieces of the chair but she doesn’t remember seeing you take it out. But it was a sturdy and comfortable chair. She had to hide how proud it made her feel to see the chair you made actually being used and shown off. 

“It still amazes me that you ever found someone to love all of this,” Wanda gestures with her hand waving it in a circle of her brother's face and body. 

“Whatever, you’re just jealous that I found someone I can be myself with,” he says as he puts his boots on top of the coffee table while crossing his legs. 

“Pietro! Get your shoes off of my coffee table!” Crystalia shouts from the other room. “And wipe it down!” She orders. 

Pietro quickly drops his feet to the ground and sits up. “Yes dear!” He shouts back as he gets up from the couch. Wanda watches with amusement and Pietro looks at his twin once he’s standing. “Not a word,” he warns. Wanda, unable to help herself, makes a whip sound as she flicks her wrist with a smirk. “I’m going to remember that,” he says as he walks away.

~~~~

The day you come back from the camping trip with Rachel, you're happy to find that Jean has moved out of your apartment. You find your room clean and without a bunch of overflowing luggages scattered on the floors. The bed is made with clean sheets. Your bathroom is clean with no evidence of makeup or used feminine products. The apartment no longer smells like Jean’s perfume. That was the best part. It almost felt like she was spraying it around as a substitute for an air freshener. So to have the apartment smelling like anything but her is a real relief. Rachel is happy to have a clean room to return to as well. The apartment doesn't feel as cramped with the bed in the living room finally folded away. 

You call Jean to find out if you should drop Rachel off at her house. But she doesn't pick up the first couple of times. When she finally does, she is irritated and breathless. “Hey, we're back. Do you want me to bring Rach over to you?” You ask, keeping your voice low in case Jean doesn't want Rachel at her house yet. 

“Oh shit what day is it?” Jean says and you can hear Anna giggle in the back stating that she doesn't know and doesn't care. You pinch the bridge of your nose as you let her know that it's Sunday. “Right, right, it's my week now. Okay. Yeah, give me…” she mutes herself for a couple of minutes. “Okay, okay, give us a couple of hours. I'll, we'll, the house will be ready. We need to clean up.” She is panting between words and you have to refrain from groaning out of disgust. But it's better off that she's jumping into bed with her wife instead of trying to seduce you. 

The night she kissed you wasn't the only time she made a pass at you. She tried a few nights later, while you were asleep. She crawled into the uncomfortable sofa bed with you and snuggled up against you. Her touch woke you up almost instantly and not in the way she preferred. You were repulsed by the idea of ever being with her ever again. You had to explain that to her in detail a couple of times before she finally understood to leave you alone. 

You shudder at the memory once you hang up the phone. You tell Rachel to take a nap but you don't tell her that you'll be taking her to her mom's house. You don't want to excite her, she needs to be resting. You step out to your balcony to call Wanda. 

“Hello?” Wanda sounds a little out of breath herself. 

“Hey,” you say as you try to figure out what she could be doing. 

“Y/n! Oh my goodness! You're back earlier than I thought you'd be!” She says excitedly. “Sorry, I'm on my treadmill. I didn't check to see who was calling.” You can hear her press a couple of buttons and the soft hum of the machine in the background slowly comes to an end. “Hey you, how are you doing?” She asks as she is catching her breath. You wish that you could be the reason she is breathless. You wish you were the one entangled with Wanda warning Jean that you need some time before she can drop off Rachel. 

“I'm doing good, it was a long drive. I can't wait to see you,” you say as you lean against the railing of the balcony. You look out to the busy view that the location of your apartment building provides you. 

“That's sweet,” Wanda sighs and you can hear the smile in her voice. “Do you think you'll get to?” 

“Jean moved out when I was gone so I was thinking,” you check over your shoulder to be certain that Rachel isn't within ear shot. “After I drop Rachel off with her mom, maybe I can stop by and see you?” 

Wanda takes a moment to answer, you can hear her swallowing her water for a moment. You wait kind of nervously before but maintaining patience. “Just stop by or do you think you can spend the night too?” 

Your smile widens. “I could be convinced but I don't know.” 

“I missed you,” she says softly. “Come on,” her volume lifts slightly as she pleads with you. “Spend the night with me. Hell, spend the week with me.” 

“That's a little fast, don't you think?” The words fall out of you before you could stop them. You're a little surprised that you're thinking about slowing things down between the two of you. All week, the only thing you could think about was being in her bed with her. Laughing with her. Crying with her. Playfully arguing with her. You laugh a little to try and play it off as a joke but you aren't certain if you meant the statement or not. 

“Well, considering that we're still waiting,” Wanda speaks slowly, dragging out her words. “I mean, I suppose it's a little fast to have you move in for a week,” she goes quiet for a moment. You are biting your nail on your thumb as you wait for her to continue. “But you know what? I don't care,” her voice sounds more certain, more confident. “I want you here. I want you to go to work and come back here. I want to make dinners with you. I want you here as much as possible.” 

You chuckle softly as you think about it. But then decide not to overthink it. You've spent too much time thinking. You want to take this small leap with Wanda. “Alright, I'll pack my bags then,” you state calmly and confidently. 

“Wait, are you serious?” She sounds slightly surprised but mostly excited. 

“Yeah, I'm serious,” you confirm. “I need to go if I'm going to sneak my bags inside the truck before Rachel can ask me about anything. I'll see you soon. I love you,” you say as you hold the handle of the door so you can enter the bedroom. 

“Okay, yeah, I'll see you soon. I love you,” her excitement is contagious as you feel a rush of energy and joy. You can't rid yourself of your wide grin as you hang up and start to get ready for your week with Wanda. 

~~~~

“...’Cause you feel like home. You’re like a dream come true,”  you hold Wanda close with your eyes closed as the two of you dance to the song. The two of you were enjoying dinner together at her home. She hasn’t let you take her out since you talked to her about your financial situation in depth. Wanda refused to let you do anything to spoil her, especially after how much you spent on her for the first date. You tried to assure her that you budgeted for it but she was adamant that the dates be affordable and that they didn’t need to be of any extravagance. 

“Expensive dates aren’t what makes a relationship great anyway. I think we both know that by now. I just want to be able to spend time with you,” she assured you when you were trying to assure her that you don't mind spending money on her. 

As the two of you continue to dance around the living room you can't help but think of the first time you and Wanda danced together. In the backyard with the sun setting and a bottle and a half of wine in your systems. Or was it two bottles? You don't remember, but it was a minor detail. What you do remember in detail was how much you wanted to kiss her. How much you wanted to feel connected to her. How much you wanted to be her partner. Now here you are, dancing with her once again. You still feel that way except now, you can kiss her when you want. And you do. Now you feel more connected to her than ever. Now you consider yourself her partner. 

“Can you believe it? Our kids are starting middle school soon?” Wanda whispers as her eyes fall on a framed baby photo of her boys as she looks over your shoulder. 

You shake your head as you continue to sway with her. “No, I can't believe it. I still keep thinking that Rachel is too young to be moving on to middle school. But she won't stop reminding me with how excited she is about it.” 

Wanda takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I keep eavesdropping on the boys because Tommy is constantly talking to Billy about all of the hot girls that are going to be at their middle school.” 

You scrunch your face, “Please, he hangs out with my daughter. I need to be able to sleep at night. I beg you, tell me you're lying.” 

“Oh come on. They made an entire plan to become siblings. I doubt Tommy or Billy will be looking at Rachel in that way,” Wanda says in a reassuring tone. But there's a hint of doubt in her words because she can't be certain of something like that until you and her reveal the relationship to the kids.

“Oh I'm not worried about Billy. But now I'm going to keep a close eye on Tommy,” you say jokingly and Wanda stops moving with you. 

“What?” She steps back slightly. “What do you mean you're not worried about Billy?” 

You shrug and shake your head. “No particular reason.” 

“Come on,” she presses. 

“No, it's nothing. It's just, I don't think Rachel would be his type,” you say as you try to steer away from the conversation. “It's getting late, we should get ready for bed.” You say as you step away and check your watch then find the remote to shut off the music. 

“Why wouldn't Rachel be his type?” She doesn’t want to let this go because lately she’s been feeling a little disconnected from her sons. A comment like that gives her the impression that you know something she doesn’t. “What do you know?” Wanda says as she follows closely behind. 

“Nothing, I don't know anything,” you say as you shut off lights on the way towards the stairs. 

“The way you're saying that makes me feel like you know something,” Wanda continues to pester you for information all the way to the bedroom. You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. Wanda stands in front of you as she waits to hear the answers she's looking for, not allowing you to dismiss the topic of conversation. 

“Remember when we sat the kids down and explained my pronouns and what being non-binary means to me?” You ask as you take Wanda’s hands into each of yours. She nods as her eyebrows start to crease. “Well, Billy has had some…” you trail off as you try to search through your vocabulary that will best describe your recent conversations with Billy. “Curiosities lately. I don't know anything for certain. I'm not saying that he is anything. I'm not outting him because he hasn't confirmed anything. The questions could mean absolutely nothing. Just, prepare yourself. Billy might not be… I don't know how to put it. He might not be like Tommy.” 

Wanda pulls your interlocked hands up to cover her face. You're a little confused by her exasperated reaction. She’s dating you. She’s been with women in the past. Why would something like her son potentially being queer be upsetting to her. “He is going to have such a hard time at his father's house soon,” she mutters and that's when it clicks for you. She's not upset about her son's sexuality because she wants him to be heterosexual. She's concerned for his well-being in his father's home. 

“Did he know that you were queer?” You ask, curious of how they got married if Vision wasn’t as open minded as Wanda. 

“Yeah,” she sighs as she drops your laced hands down to her sides. “Don't judge me,” she starts as she keeps her head down, “in my defense I was in my early twenties.” She takes a deep breath and bites her lips. “But he's… he liked that about me because he thinks it's okay for women to be a little more sexually open because he finds it hot. And I didn’t realize how misogynistic and homophobic he was until we found out that we were having two boys.” 

You nod slowly as you start to grow worried for Billy as well. You remember how unaccepting your father was of the way you acted while you were growing up. You even remember the advice he'd given you when you told him about getting Jean pregnant. That he wanted you to quit being so “frilly” and to start acting like the child he wanted. That life is already confusing enough for a child, they don’t need to have a parent that lives a confusing lifestyle. 

He's only now starting to come around to the idea of you not being the gender conforming person he always wanted you to be. But you could handle his criticisms and his comments about you. Billy is a sweet and sensitive boy and Vision is a lot tougher on his boys than your father ever was. 

“What do you think we should do?” You ask Wanda as you let go of her hands and stand up to wrap your arms around her and pull her body close. Wanda melts in your arms and with her eyes closed she leans her forehead against your shoulder. She breathes you in as your words hit her. Just the simple way you asked the question made her feel more supported than years in her marriage did. 

You rub her back as you wait for her answer. Your mind races with solutions but none of them being helpful or worth suggesting. “I don't know,” Wanda finally says. “I guess it's just…” she shakes her head and leans back to look at you. “It's just one of those things that's out of my hands. I can't keep Billy away from his father. And I hardly know what's going on at that house. He's finally convinced them to stop telling me what goes on over there. So, I'm just going to have to be sure that he knows he can be free to be himself here.” 

You nod and press your lips to her forehead before leaning your forehead against hers. “He's going to be okay,” you assure her. Wanda’s hands move to your shoulders and gives them a light squeeze.

“I hope you're right,” she says with a lump forming in her throat.

~~~~

You are sitting with Steve and Bucky in Steve's apartment. You have finally forgiven Steve for not talking to you about his relationship with Peggy and Bucky and Natasha. After starting your private relationship with Wanda, you could understand why he was private with the development in his life. 

Steve was going through a lot that he wasn't sure he ever wanted to be public. First, he and Peggy had given up on the relationship. But they were sticking together for appearances but they were miserable around each other. You weren't the best at giving relationship advice and completely missed that Steve wanted out of the relationship whenever he tried to talk to you about it. 

Then he met Bucky and felt an attraction that he'd never felt before towards a man. It confused him and while he dealt with those feelings, Peggy could feel him pulling away and eventually she got tired of fooling herself. They were private people as it was so there wasn't a big announcement of their split of any kind. That's where you thought that your friend had been cheating on his partner of several years. 

You felt like a shit when you realized that you weren't there for your friends as they navigated new feelings towards one another. But Steve and Bucky assured you that they didn't bring it up to you because of the problems you were facing at the time. And that they preferred to talk about it with each other. Then Darcy caught on and it was easier to come out to her since she didn't make a big deal out of it. 

Then you asked about Bucky’s girlfriend because he was also in a relationship with a woman by the time he met Steve. That's when he revealed that they were still figuring that out because Steve also had feelings towards Natasha. But they all felt weird about the “throuple” label. Steve especially wasn't prepared to deal with the backlash of coming out as possibly bi-sexual and then add being possibly polyamorous to that. He was already disowned from the majority of his family for dropping out of the military. He couldn't risk losing the family he had left. So, officially, he is single. But unofficially, he is seeing both Bucky and Natasha. Sometimes separately and sometimes together. 

“No way, Nat and Wanda?” You ask as you pop another beer open. You are shocked to hear about the relationship from someone other than Wanda. But you knew she felt some shame over the amount of people she was hooking up with. You try to tell her that it doesn't bother you but she still feels a type of way about the behavior. You hope that when you're finally able to be physically intimate with her that you'll be able to help her see that it wasn't wrong for her to explore her sexuality the way she had. 

Bucky nods, “Oh yeah, she told me everything. I couldn't believe it either. I mean, I've only met Wanda less than a handful of times but I never thought she was the type. She broke poor Nat’s heart.” 

Your eyes widen, “Really? Wow, I had no idea. I thought they seemed a little weird towards each other at the New Year's Eve party. But honestly, knowing her ex-husband, I thought maybe Nat had been with him and Wanda knew.” You tip the bottle against your lips as you make a mental note to talk to Wanda about Natasha. “It's crazy how much we can miss about each other’s lives if we're not on each other twenty four seven.”

Steve and Bucky share a laugh as they agree and drink their beers. “Yeah, I think Darcy mentioned that Jean was living with you for some time. How was that?” Steve asks, he's never gotten along with Jean and he never bothered to get to know Anna. Although she would try to approach him in conversation at gatherings that you'd host. That's where Peggy would come in and either take over the conversation or come up with an excuse to get him away from her. 

You groan at the memory as you nod to confirm. “It was starting to feel like she was never going to leave. It wasn't a fair situation and I was not about to let Anna get the house. If they went through with a divorce. But they seemed to have patched things up and Anna is treating Rachel like she's her daughter again. I don't know. The whole thing has put a bad taste in my mouth but I can't do anything about what they do. I can only do my best to protect Rachel.” 

Steve shakes his head and mutters insults about the women to himself. You don't catch half of it and you don't ask him to repeat himself. Bucky shakes his head and scoffs. “I couldn't do it. You're a tough one for putting up with all of that, Y/n,” Bucky commends you as he puts his hand on your shoulder. 

You shrug, “It's not easy but that's what you agree to when you have kids. When there was a choice, that is.” All three of you shake your heads and take a sip of beer before you continue. “I don't know that I'd recommend it but Rachel is great. She's far from being the problem. Every family has their issues and I guess that's what makes them family.” You sigh deeply as you look at the screen. The three of you were watching some show on a streaming network that had just released its most recent season. Well, more like it's releasing its most recent season weekly. You don't like that they started to do that but it did help bring you and Steve back together because it's a show that the two of you have watched together since it came out. Now you're here every week on the night the latest episode is uploaded. The three of you pay attention to the rest of the episode as you push away the image of Natasha and Wanda out of your mind. 

~~~~

“I just want to know why you didn't tell me it was Nat that you were seeing last summer,” you ask as you follow Wanda to your bedroom. She wanted to see what it would be like to live with you for the week in your space. It's been a few weeks since that night at Steve's apartment. You haven't brought it up to Wanda until now because you were keeping it out of your mind. Then, somehow, you don't really remember how… it got brought up. 

“Because, it's embarrassing! Besides, you don't see me asking about everyone you ever slept with!” Wanda says as she waves her hands around. 

“That's because you've already met them all,” you remind her with the same energy she was throwing at you.

“So what, are you calling me a whore now?” She asks with a pointed look. 

“What?! How the hell did you get that idea?” You are thrown off by the accusation. 

“You're not denying it,” Wanda states defensively. 

You shake your head. “No, I'm not calling you a whore because I don't think you're a whore. I just…” you take a moment to think before you speak and make things worse. “You don't have to talk about every hook up. I would just like a heads up whenever I meet them. Or at least if I meet them around you. Like what happened with that one waitress. Did I get upset with you and call you a whore then?” You use your first date as an example because you felt like you handled that pretty well. 

Wanda looks away and bites her lips in thought. “No, but how do I know that you weren't thinking it?” She asks as crosses her arms over her chest. 

“Because, Wanda, you are supposed to trust me when I tell you that I love you and that I don't judge you. Especially for things you did before we started dating.” You step closer in an attempt to disarm her. You gently place both of your hands on her shoulders and gaze into her big green eyes full of insecurities. “I don't judge you, Wanda. I don't think you're a whore, Wanda. I love you, Wanda.” You move your hands up to cup her cheeks and hold her head in your hands. 

Wanda melts to your touch and untangles her arms. She puts her hands on your waist and clutches the fabric of your shirt. Tears spring to her eyes as you maintain your eye contact. Your tone not wavering once. She has no choice but to listen and believe you. 

“You better mean that,” she says as her tears start to uncontrollably fall. You pull her close in a tight embrace to hold her while she breaks down. Free to cry in front of you and process her emotions in your arms. You love her and show her as much as you continue to listen and try to understand where she was coming from when she got upset. 

~~~~

Pietro sits back in his lounge chair as he observes you and Wanda at the grill. It's the end of summer and Wanda thought it would be a good idea to host an end of summer party for the kids. She invited everyone in her inner circle. Agatha and her son Nicholas, Carol and Val, him and his family, and you and your daughter. You and Wanda were chatting quietly to one another while Wanda grilled the meat options. There was something different about the two of you. He couldn't put his finger on it. 

Crystalia bounces Emma in her arms as she returns to Pietro's side. “What are you staring at?” She asks her husband as she sits on the chair beside his. 

“Do they seem… closer?” He asks his wife. Pietro wasn't typically one to gossip or speculate but he knows he can trust his wife with his thoughts. 

Crystalia shakes her head. “Oh no, don't go there again. Come on, it was bad enough you lost money over a stupid bet. Just, leave your sister alone. You know how she can be. Even if there is something to talk about, she's not going to do it if you go badgering her about her personal life.” Then she looks over at you and Wanda and notices the way you're standing close to her in-law. She catches onto the way the two of you smile at each other. How Wanda's eyes flit to your lips and how yours do the same. “Huh, at best they're hooking up,” she says to confirm her husband's suspicions. 

Pietro sits up and takes off his sunglasses. “So you see it too?” He looks like he's about to get up and say something to the couple they're spying on. So Crystalia places Emma in Pietro's hands. “Crys, I can't just let this go. Y/n is my friend, yes, but they're also my employee. This… I have to put a stop to this or do something.” He looks down at the little girl in his hands as she giggles and slobbers on herself. He grins at her then gives his wife a pointed look.

“Pietro, Y/n is your employee but Wanda isn't. They're not breaking any rules. Besides, we don't know anything for certain. Just,” she sighs and gets settled into her seat. “Just relax and leave them alone. They're both adults. And it's not like you haven't said before that you would be thrilled if they got together because you like Y/n and think they'd be perfect together. Honestly, if they did get together, it'd probably be your fault to begin with.” 

Pietro makes a face at the accusation and Emma giggles as she reaches out to touch her father's face. “What are you talking about?” 

Crystalia shrugs, “When Rachel was having problems in school, you suggested that Y/n put her in the same school our nephews attend. And you know how involved that school requires parents to be.” 

Pietro shrugs, “It's a really good school. That doesn't mean anything.” 

Crystalia doesn't buy it. “Oh yeah? Was it really a coincidence that you started to put together company events right after Wanda and Vision split up? No one invited their siblings to those things unless they work for the company but you were constantly inviting Wanda.” 

“She was having a hard time. I thought she could’ve used a reason to get out of the house. She only went to one of those things anyway. And Y/n couldn't even show up to that event,” Pietro defends and his wife scowls. 

“You can't remember our anniversary but you can remember that?” Crystalia asks, only to prove her point. Pietro shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “When Wanda needed work to be done on the house, you asked Y/n to help you. I know you keep saying that it's because they're the best worker or whatever, but you literally could've patched up the wall by yourself. And you would've never acted on extending the house without the appropriate permits the way you did.” 

Pietro shakes his head as he continues to deny this theory his wife has about him essentially being a puppet master for you and his sister. “Okay, I don't think they're together, you just made me realize how crazy I sounded. Because you sound completely mental.” 

“Don't call me mental in front of our daughter,” Crystalia warns. 

“I'm sorry, you're right. Mommy isn't mental Emma,” he whispers to his daughter. She pats his face and starts to tug on his facial hair. He chuckles as he looks up at his wife. “But you've got to admit, you're giving me a lot more credit than I'm worth. You really think I'm that thoughtful?” Crystalia can't help but agree with that statement and decides to drop the subject altogether. 

~~~~

You and Wanda are lounging on her sofa. You are lying vertically on the part of the couch that extends forward. Wanda is lying horizontally along the length of the sofa with her head in your lap. You have your fingers in her hair as you periodically massage her scalp. As the movie begins to lose her attention, she looks up at you and starts to watch you watch the movie. You're zeroed in and completely focused on the plot. She doesn't know how you could find such a movie interesting but she doesn't mind watching you this way instead. 

You don't realize that Wanda's focus is on you until you feel something lightly tickling your stomach. You look down and notice that Wanda is trying to lift your shirt up. “What are you doing?” You ask, startling her slightly. She looks up at you with wide eyes from being caught.

“Nothing,” she shrugs as she removes her hand from your shirt and looks up at you. 

“You wanted to watch this movie, remember?” You remind her with a teasing tone.

“Yeah, well, I lost interest,” she says as she sits up. She moves so that she's sitting on her knees. Wanda bites her bottom lip as she looks at you. “Besides, we've watched plenty of movies together. I think I'm in the mood for something else.” She says as she inches closer to you. She puts her hand on your chest and you raise your eyebrows at her. 

“Do you want to put on some music and dance?” You ask, not wanting to read too much into her touch and actions. But she shakes her head as she maintains eye contact and moves to lock her arms around your neck. “Do you think we're ready for that?” You ask as you catch onto what she's getting at. 

“I'm ready,” she says as she kisses your cheek. “Are you?” She says as she crawls onto your lap. You don't have to give her much of a verbal answer because you can feel that burning desire growing in your body. A desire you haven't felt for anyone before. Even the desire you had for Jean when you were a teenager pales in comparison. You kiss Wanda’s lips and place your hands on her hips. 

“I'm ready,” you say in a harsh whisper. Wanda giggles as she had already gathered that much. She has her hands on your cheeks to keep you close and pull you in to continue kissing you. As her hands hold you steady, your hands begin to explore her body. Your touch is almost as greedy as a teenager experiencing something like this for the first time. Yes, you've touched her body many times since the two of you have started dating. But not like this. Not without restrictions. You are free to explore her however you want and that notion has you aimless with excitement. You don't know where to start first or where to keep your hands. You have to remind yourself that there is plenty of time to explore every inch of her. If not tonight then another night. 

Wanda breaks the kiss and crawls off of your lap and stands up. She looks down at you with a grin. She tips her head towards the stairs. “Come on,” she invites you with her hand out to you. 

You shuffle off of the sofa and rise. You take her hand and all her to guide her towards her room to finally cross the line both of you have been painstakingly avoiding until now.

Chapter 24

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @diealittlesometime @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiofthemultifandom @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters @bittysworld @hopeless-romantic17177 @spongebobtentacles @the-ox-fan20 @shaniiwm @casualreadersstuff @neopolitan-torchwick

[tradgedyinwaves]

Touch - Ch. 5

Poly!141 x chunky!reader tw: little stalkerish at the end

Sunday Morning. 

You woke the next day to a bouquet of white lilies of the valley and yellow roses from Price for his “ungentlemanly actions” the night before and you found yourself immediately forgiving him. It was nice to know that despite what Kit had said, you were desired by someone. And how could you hold that against John? 

🪻: I suppose I forgive you. 🥃: How magnanimous of you, little bird. Does this mean I can expect a second date? 🪻: I guess. :P 

Your phone was now constantly blowing up with messages from Johnny and Price. And then Kyle was added, asking for your number from Price who’d asked you and you’d given your permission. You didn’t know what was going on. This time last year, you couldn’t get your husband to even look at you and now three very, very attractive British S.A.S members were clambering over each other for your attention. You didn’t know what they saw in you, but you weren’t going to complain. Eventually, the four of you ended up in a group chat when both Johnny and Kyle decided they wanted to take you out too. 

🪻: Alright. Do you guys even know the others have asked me out? Cause while I’m not complaining, ya’ll are friends.  🧼: Aw Petal. Just a wee competition between mates. 🥃: They’re just worried that I snagged you first, little bird.  👀: Excuse you. We’re giving her options for when she decides she doesn’t want you, old man.  🥃: Kyle, I am barely 10 years older than you. That doesn’t make me elderly. 🪻: -grabs popcorn- This is entertaining. I’ve never had men fight over me before. 🧼: Just you wait, they get worse than this.

And it did.

On Monday, Kyle showed up at your job and insisted on taking you out for lunch, his treat of course.

On Tuesday, Johnny brought flowers to you AND your boss who immediately told you that he was the one to pick. 

On Wednesday, Price picked you up from work and took you to a little bookstore, buying anything you even glanced at.

On Thursday, no one showed up to dote on you and despite numerous messages, no one replied to you.

On Friday, you received a single message from each of them.

🥃: Being deployed. Be safe, little bird. We’ll be thinking of you.  🧼: Heading out for a mission, petal. We’ll miss you. 👀: Will be gone for a bit, dove. Don’t miss us too much. 

On Saturday, you tried to find something to do all day besides checking your phone every five minutes. 

On Sunday, you visited Magda.

When you finally received a text from Price two weeks later, telling you they were home safe and inviting you over, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. You’d missed them terribly and were eager to see each of them. So after work on Friday, you rushed home, changed into some leggings and an oversized sweater and headed to the address you’d been sent. 

Pressing the buzzer, they let you in and when the door to their flat opened, Price was standing there with a warm smile. Your arms wrapped around his waist immediately, feeling his thick arms coming to envelop you while he kicked the door closed. 

“Aye, lass. He the only one that gets a hug?” Johnny asked as he rose from the couch, opening his arms with a laugh. “Johnny!” You instantly released Price and launched yourself into Johnny’s arms, hugging him just as tightly. He smelled fresh, like he’d just gotten out of the shower and you breathed in the clean scent of him. 

You felt Kyle wrap his arms around both you and Johnny, pressing against your back and sandwiching you between the two. If you thought it was weird that the three guys you were dating lived together, you didn’t say anything.

A few minutes later, you were tucked into the corner of the couch with a steaming cup of tea while you watched Johnny and Price interacting in the kitchen. It wasn’t lost on you how Price’s hand rested on the small of Johnny’s back or the way Johnny’s eyes softened when he looked at Price. You thought to ask Kyle who was taking up the other corner of the couch, but then you caught him gazing over at the other two wistfully and you felt a little like a fourth wheel. 

A door slid shut somewhere down the hall and it startled you before your gaze slid to Kyle with a raised brow. “I assume that’s Simon?” you asked, nodding your head to gesture down the hall. “Yeah, he’s not much of a people person, but he’ll warm up to you the more you’re around,” Johnny replied instead, making you look at him where he came to sit between you and Kyle. “You make it sound like I’m going to be over here a lot,” you replied with a raise of your brow. 

“Well, we’d like ya to be,” Kyle answered this time, a warm smile on his pretty face. But it felt like there was something that wasn’t being said and it put you on edge. Price could feel your apprehension as he went to sit in his armchair, noticing it on the edges of your eyes and the way you straightened up in your seat. “You look like you’re about to spring out of your seat, birdie. What’s going through your head?” Price questioned, tilting his head slightly while his eyes studied you. 

You froze at his words. You didn’t think you’d been that obvious with your discomfort, but Price had a keen eye and didn’t miss much. “I feel like there’s something I’m missing here,” you theorized, staring into your cup of tea like it was the most interesting thing in the room. Price pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, standing from his chair to sit on the coffee table in front of you. Your eyes widened when your gaze lifted to meet his sparkling blue eyes, feeling as though he was about to tell you that they no longer felt the same and you needed to leave. 

“When you work as closely with a team as we do, things…develop,” Price watched you with trepidation while you nodded, urging him to continue. “The four of us, myself, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon, we’re a team in more ways than one,” Price paused, seeing if he needed to clarify any further. You stared at him for a moment, letting his words process in your head.

“So you’re all like together together?” You clarified, bringing your cup to your lips and sipping, using the moment to gather your thoughts. “Aye, petal, we are,” Johnny replied, reaching over to pat your calf. “So what am I doing here?” you asked, trying to figure out where you fit into this with their doting and dates. Kyle’s laugh was light and airy as he moved to sit next to Price on the coffee table. “We were hoping you’d join us, dove. Don’t worry about Si. He knows what’s going on,” Kyle explained, looking at you with those dark, hopeful eyes. 

Who were you to deny these men? They’d treated you better in the weeks you’d known them than anyone else ever had and there was no question about your safety with them. “I don’t know how to do this,” You stated, hand coming out to gesture between the four of you. “I barely know how to date one person, let alone three,” you continued, feeling the shame of your past settling into your chest. 

Johnny’s hand on your calf squeezed and he flashed you a lopsided smile. “We can figure it out, together, if you want?” He offered, hope filling those cerulean hues of his. You looked between each of them, quiet as your mind swirled with questions. The most prominent being the fourth man in the equation, Simon, but you couldn’t be assed to worry about him right now. If they say he knows and would warm up eventually, you believed them. 

“Okay,” you stated, a soft smile on your lips as the boys processed your single word response. The first to react was Johnny, leaping across the couch to smother you in a bear hug while he buried his face in your hair. Price, always the mother of the group, snatched your tea cup before Johnny crushed you, setting it off to the side before pulling Kyle into his side with a wide smile. 

When you left that night, you felt at ease and dare you say it, happy. You were blessed with three men who doted on you, cared for you, treated you as if you were the world to them. Humming a little tune, you entered your apartment and immediately noticed something was different. You checked every nook and cranny, double checking the locks on the windows and even checked the door handle for pick marks. Everything looked right and instead of calling one of the boys, you sighed and shook it off, telling yourself you were imagining it. 

“Si, you’re going to have to face her at some point. She’s going to be around a lot more now,” Johnny chided while the two laid in bed. “I know, Soap, but she’s not ready,” Simon countered, staring up at the ceiling with an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. “Are you sure it’s not you who isn’t ready?” Johnny asked, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at the behemoth of a man next to him. Simon just grunted and slipped from the bed just to shove the window open and light the cigarette. 

“What are you scared of?” Johnny asked as he joined Simon at the window, both of them looking down over the street below. “I just don’t want her to think I’m stalking her or something. It was over six months ago and I suddenly show up again? Not likely. I was lucky to even see her again.” Simon had never been an optimist. And that wasn’t likely to change any time soon, so Johnny let it lie as he rested his head against the man’s shoulder. 

On the roof across from your building, your shadow stood with his skull mask in place. Watching. Waiting.

Uh oh. Reader may be too happy. Hope nothing happens to her.

Thank you so much to everyone who is liking and reblogging this story! I appreciate every single one of you!

[bagopucks]

A. Matthews - You’re Mine

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): Big feelings and minor swearing

IT IS A SINLEREADERUPDATE

—————————————

His glasses crooked, his reindeer pj’s all wrinkled, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Auston had never looked more attractive. Domesticated. At home. The stripes on his pjs matched the ones on Hudson’s, as did the reindeer on the chest. We all matched.

Christmas was a special time of year. One I had always cherished with my family. It was important to maintain that closeness, and especially important to include Auston. The Eve of my favorite holiday I’d always spent with my family, watching movies eating fresh cookies, and drinking cocoa.

As a group, we’d already made the cookies. Auston was busy prepping the cocoa while I pulled the last batch from the oven. Hudson sat on the island counter, holding onto a stuffed snowman that Auston had gifted him the previous morning.

I told Auston not to spoil him, but I made an exception to ‘Christmas week’. Auston had a small gift for Hudson every day thus far. Monday was a jersey of Hudson’s favorite hockey player. Tuesday was special Christmas tree gummies and a new Christmas movie DVD. Wednesday was an evening at the local skating rink downtown in the city. I set the pan down and rubbed a fresh bruise at the memory. Thursday was the new stuffed animal. Friday, tonight, was the only gift Auston refused to inform me about. But Hudson had a gift of his own to give Auston anyhow. I had a feeling it was going to be a very memorable Christmas Eve.

Pulling the oven mitts off and gently smacking Auston’s arm with one, I chuckled. It earned the laughter from both boys.

Auston flashed me a smile and pressed a kiss to the side of my head before turning toward Hudson with a fresh cup of cocoa.

“It’s hot, bud. Be careful, okay?” I had grown to admire how well the boys began to communicate with looks and nods. Hudson gave a simple indication that he understood and Auston handed the cup over.

“Is it time for movies?” Hudson asked, setting his mug down in a slow and shaky manner.

“Ah, I think Auston has one last surprise first.” I glanced toward the man holding his own mug between his hands. “Right?”

“After movies.” This was a new routine. I was taken by surprise but I agreed anyhow.

“Aw man! Please, Aus! Presents first! I have something too!” Hudson scooted toward the edge of the counter, and Auston quickly picked him up.

“No can do. You have to wait for this one, it’s extra special.”

“Can I have a hint?” Hudson gripped Auston’s shoulders and tried to shake him.

“Only if I get a hint on your gift.” Auston teased, only to be met with an immediate no.

“It’s a surprise I can’t!”

“Same here!”

I rolled my eyes with a smile, “come on boys. Let’s set up the movie.” I waved a hand over my shoulder before walking into the living room, hearing Auston’s heavy steps following.

After Hudson picked a film, and Auston gathered the cookies on a plate, we got situated on the couch. I could tell early into the movie that Hudson could barely focus. What I couldn’t tell, was whether he was excited about the gift he’d give to Auston, or the one he’d be receiving. A few bathroom breaks were taken, that ended up making the movie around three hours. By the end, Auston and I began cleaning while I told Hudson to go grab his gift.

“Auston, listen..” I rinsed the cookie plate off and set it in the dishwasher. “Hudson got you a pretty serious gift.. and- if you don’t like it I just need you to- I don’t know.. just don’t-“ I ran my hands down my face, feeling a pair of hands on my arms.

“It’s okay.. whatever he got me I’m gonna love.” He pulled me into a hug. “And.. he might need a little help understanding my gift too.. so- I could use some backup when he opens it.” I tried to push aside my own anxieties, nodding to assure my partner I would be there to help him and Hudson.

While Auston pulled the last ‘Christmas Week’ gift from its hiding spot beneath the tree, Hudson came down the hall from his room with a horribly wrapped box in his hands. Both boys looked equally nervous, and I… I had no clue what I felt. Excitement? Ambition? Anxiety?

“Alright, who goes first?” I asked softly as the boys sat down by the tree, presents in front of one another like a Mexican standoff. I giggled when they stared one another down.

“You wanna open mine first, Hudsy?” Auston pushed the bag in Hudson’s direction. The boy hesitated, then shook his head.

“Same time.” Hudson decided. Auston nodded. Hudson handed his own gift toward Auston, and I watched as the nervous boys began meticulously unwrapping their presents.

Hudson grabbed the handles of the bag, dragging it closer before he picked it up and set it in his lap. Hudson pulled the tissue paper out, over his bag while Auston worked on tearing wrapping paper from his box. Peeking in to find paper, Hudson’s brow furrowed. “What is this?” I could see Auston drawing in a heavy breath as Hudson drew out the papers, the little boy squinting at them in confusion. Auston kicked the wrapping paper from his own present aside before opening the box. He was met with the same papers that Hudson was. It took Auston far less time to figure out what his gift was.

“Mom!” Auston and I were both startled by my son’s outburst. Hudson shot up from the floor, turning toward me. For a moment I thought I would be the first to receive some form of reaction from my son, but Auston stole the moment with a wide grin as he too rose from the floor. Auston’s arms swooped out like eagle’s wings, wrapping my son up in a tight embrace. “I’m getting adopted!” Hudson shouted, his words muffled against Auston’s chest. I felt shock, then understanding of Auston’s nerves. Then I felt a jolt of excitement. My boys chose one another.

“Aus.. are those..” I had to ask, just to be sure. But I could barely get the words out of my mouth.

“Adoption papers.” Auston finished my sentence. I felt a pang in my heart. My boys knew each other better than I thought. Auston finally released my son, and Hudson couldn’t help but jump up and down, his grip so tight he crinkled the papers in his hands. Good thing we had two sets.

“I have a dad..” Hudson cried. Despite all the times I felt like a horrible parent, I finally felt like I had gotten one thing 100% correct. The most important thing. A father for my child. I finally stood from the couch to join my boys. I wiped a tear from Auston’s cheek, shaking my head as my son clung to my legs. “So this was your big surprise?” I whispered.

“Of course.” Auston and I both looked down when Hudson lifted his head, his eyes red and cheeks wet.

“I love you, Auston.” Hudson sniffled. He hesitated. “Dad.”

“God damnit,” Auston muttered as tears fell down his cheeks. He had not expected himself to get so emotional. I swatted at Auston’s shoulder. “God…” he mumbled. “I love you too, Hudsy.” Auston leaned over to poke Hudson’s sides, earning a giggly rise from the boy. “And now you’re mine!” He exclaimed before lifting Hudson into the air. My eyes grew wide as I watched Auston immediately take off down the hall.

“Ours!” I corrected through laughter, chasing after my boys.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[steddieas-shegoes]

hello again! here's an angsty little steddie thought for you, because I'm sad and i am putting my guys in angsty situations in my head to make me more sad because the brain is funny like that: Steve decides to swing by to visit Eddie after his shift. They've been hanging out a lot more lately,with Robin off to college and the kids preoccupied with school. It's something he looks forward to. He's been spending the day thinking bout the things Eddie says when it's just them. The way he tells Steve that people underestimate him, especially his intelligence. The jokes they share, the soft gazes over a blunt on the front porch. The best part of Steve's day. Truly the best part of his life, nowadays. Especially the soft moments they have together, where Eddie kisses his hairline with a hand resting on Steve's thigh. It's happened a few times but it never turns into a full fledged kiss, but he KNOWS it'll happen soon. He's about to knock on the trailer door when he hears Eddie chatting with his band mates, which is a surprise because band practice is on thursdays not wednesdays,but that's okay maybe he can get to know them a little bit-. "What are you even talking about, Eddie? you're practically drooling over Harrington every time he walks by" His hand freezes mid air and he blushes to himself. "Harrington? nah he is NOT my type." And that? oh. that's...not ideal. But, maybe he can switch up his style a little bit? He knows Eddie isn't the type to wear polos, that's. That's alright. "No way you're SUCH a liar!" "I'm not lying!" Maybe he's just trying to hide his crush?(Images flash in his mind of Eddie's hand creeping up his thigh, and his breath on his neck,before blushing and turning away. Placing his hands back onto his own lap. A soft smile and a blush high on his cheeks.) Maybe he's- "Okay shut up, I'll admit he's easy on the eyes. But dudes only got like two brain cells to rub together." Huh? But he told him monday that- ("You're so smart Stevie, they don't give you enough credit.") "I thought you hung out with him a bunch lately?" "Yeah,it beats watching wheel of fortune. It's funny to listen to what the king has to say, it's like talking to a door stopper." ("You always have something interesting to say.") The echoing laughter rushes through Steve's ears,grips his heart like a vice, before settling like a brick in his stomach. "Nothing behind those eyes!" (I always used to think your eyes were brown, Stevie. But there's green, and red!) Right. That's, that's. Hmm. That's. Go home. It's time to go home. "What was that?" Run back to the car. "Stevie?"Don't say anything. Get your keys get out TWOBRAINCELLS get OUT OF HERE YOU MORON. "Hey wait don't leave, did you uh overhear, of course you heard. God Steve I didn't mean it,I swear. i was just talking a big- I'm so sor-"Don'tlisten.Don'tcryyouidiot.STARTTHECARGETOUTOFHERE.ofcoursenot!ofcoursehedoesntwantyou!ofcoursehedidntthinkyouweresmart.stopcryinggohomegohomehedoesntwantyouherehedoesntwantyouatall.stopcrying.dryyour eyes(NOTHINGBEHINDTHOSEYES). just stop. Get out of here.

Hey

I’m holding your hand when I say this

how dare you (affectionate)

this broke my heart into 726251527382 pieces

in my head, Eddie follows him and begs for forgiveness and Steve makes him work for it because he’s not gonna let anyone in his life who won’t be all in even if it’s just as friends

Eddie does work for it. Harder than he worked to do anything else

he knows he fucked up so bad and just got carried away trying to get his bandmates off his back. he really genuinely didn’t believe anything he said but now he knows Steve thinks he did and he shouldn’t have even said it as a joke or exaggeration regardless of if Steve would hear or not

He even shows up the morning of Robin’s going away party to help run errands for Steve and set up in the rain that wasn’t in the forecast. Steve finds him crying on the back patio over one of the decorations that got ruined by the rain, and he apologizes a million times “I know it’s not enough it’ll never be enough but you have to know I wouldn’t do it on purpose I didn’t know there was rain coming and I would’ve kept it all inside” and then Steve is holding him and telling him it’s okay, all of it is okay

I can’t keep them sad for long it’s my most ridiculous trait

[justwinginglife]

Out Of Commission

If you couldn't tell by the sentence below, this is NSFW.

“I’m not pulling out. If I pull out, you’re going to work, so no. I’m not pulling out.”

You’d been trying to leave the house for the last 10 minutes, but couldn’t even manage to make it out of the bed, because your boyfriend had been clinging to you for dear life. His arms were wrapped around you so tightly, and yet you could still tell he was being careful to avoid the spots that were more sore from your latest mission. You couldn’t tell what you found more attractive: his obvious need for you that was made evident in the erection that was steadily growing harder again inside of you, or the attentiveness he was displaying even amidst his lust-filled desires. Either way, you loved the shit out of him which made leaving even harder, even just for a couple hours. 

Rafayel whined again, bringing your attention back to the present issue. “It’s a Friday. Which is pretty much Saturday. Which means it’s your day off and you have to stay in bed with me. So- NO LEAVING.” 

You laughed at that, ruffling his hair. “But baby, it is still Friday, which means it is still a work day.”

He huffed. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me that Monday is a work day as well? What next, Tuesday? Wednesday? Thursday?”

You pinched his cheek. “Yes, love. All of those days are work days. You know this.”

“And when are Rafayel days? Huh?”

“Saturday. And Sunday. So just wait one more day, okay?” You showered him with kisses, but it wasn’t enough. His bottom lip was still jutted out in an emphatic pout. You laughed again and poked his nose before pressing a kiss to the tip of it.

“This isn’t funny. I may just die without you.” He scowled.

You gazed at him fondly, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Don’t die on me, baby. Just wait a little longer for me, okay? It won’t be as bad as you think.” You rested your forehead against his. “I promise, I’ll come straight home after work. Then I’ll be all yours.”

His eyes darkened with possessive intent. “No. I want you to be all mine, now.” He rolled over so you were pinned beneath him. 

The shift in position plunged his cock deeper inside you and you let out a startled yelp. 

He inhaled sharply at the sound. “Especially if you keep making noises like that, there’s no way I can let you leave now.” He started slowly pumping himself into you in steady motions. 

“Raf-”

“Shhh. No more arguing. Just one more round. I need this.” He looked down at the mess you’d made in between his legs, your arousal sloppily oozing out of you with every thrust. “And it looks like you need this too.”

You bit your lip. “Fine. One round. Fuck me.”

He smirked at that. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.” He pressed heated kisses to your wrists before pinning them above your head. Then, he seared his heat against your lips, consuming every whine and whimper that quivered against his tongue as he continued to pound into you. If he was still smug about your sudden submission, it was quickly drowned out by his hunger. He’d wanted to taste you all morning and now here you were, serving yourself up on a silver platter. “Princess…” He murmured against your mouth. 

You hated how much you loved when he called you that. His little pet name for you only came out in the bedroom and only when he was about to worship the ever loving shit out of you. 

So you weren’t surprised when his lips found their way down your neck, painting evidence of his ownership across your chest in colorful bursts of pink and purple, before finally settling around a peaked nipple. And you weren’t surprised when he teased the bud relentlessly with his tongue, his ministrations beyond sensual with every stroke, like he thought he’d find his release buried beneath your breast if he just searched hard enough. And when his artist’s hands sculpted pleasure from nothing, squeezing and sucking the sensibility right from your chest, it was only his usual devotion to you. 

But, after his teeth had carved into your neck, after his fingers had imbedded into your hips, after he’d bombarded you with a barrage of tireless thrusts, when the insurmountable wave of euphoria inevitably flooded through your veins, you were surprised to find that this time, there was no respite waiting for you at the end of this high. 

Like an engine sputtering back to life, after he’d buried his cum soaked cock in between your convulsing walls, he regained his momentum. He coaxed the cum back inside you with steady movements, with gentle movements, with movements that could have convinced you he wasn’t about to slam on the gas and go full throttle. But he was.

Your first clue was the sudden snap of his hips, your second- the growl in his throat, the ferocity in his eyes. Oh god. He was going to break you. 

You quickly concocted a plan, trailing your fingers down his back in distraction as you murmured in his ear, “Wanna ride you, baby.”

When he wasted no time flipping your positions, tugging you on top of him, you felt your escape route was almost assured. In this position, you had all the control. In this position, you could simply stand up and walk away. You could still make it to work on time. 

You gave him a couple good thrusts for his efforts, and then pulled off of him in a hurry. But it still wasn’t quick enough. 

“Figured you’d try something like that. But I’m not done with you.” His hands burrowed into your hips, yanking you back down on his cock, but this time he had realigned himself. This time, he was spearing himself through your ass. You hissed in pain as every brutal thrust drilled himself deeper into you. Every attempt to get off of him only brought you slamming down harder as his hands guided your hips up and down. 

“Was thinking you’d try to go back to work. But you can’t go if you can’t walk, right?” 

Your mind was already clouded over, your thoughts a muddled mess, but when he began to thumb at your swollen clit, on top of cramming every inch of his erection inside you, you felt you might just combust on top of him. Your heart threatened to pound its way out of your chest with every thunderous beat and you were seeing so many stars you could’ve made your own galaxy. You mumbled something incoherent and then, stuttering, you found your second orgasm of the night before collapsing on top of him. 

When he finally joined you, pumping his warm cum inside of you, it almost felt like a balm, like it was soothing the pain as a reward for enduring it. You laid there and took every ounce of it (you couldn’t move anyway.)

And after you’d come back down to earth, after your lungs had remembered what their function was, after your pumping blood stopped roaring in your ears, he had the audacity to smirk at you and say, “So, shall I call in sick for you?”

[uhmprobablynot]

I know I’m late asf,, but part 2 of the bully fic was so good😫😫

I need part 3 rn!!💥💳💥💳💥

(But fr, your writing was so so good and I’ve read it like 5 times now lmfao)

As you wish my friends,,, Bully!Schlatt Part three (sorry this was late. I was sick than had to finish finals,,,) neway

Part One > Part Two > Part Three

The next day, you expected a text from Schlatt. He had texted you good morning on Sunday, then following the library situation he texted you, then after practice he texted you, when he went to bed he texted you. You thought he would have texted you good morning today, too. You brushed it off. He’s only had your number for 48 hours, and it’s not like you were dating or anything. Plus, you were headed to the class you shared with him. Maybe that’s why he didn’t text. He knew he would see you.

Yeah. That’s what you went with.

Schlatt wasn’t at the table when you walked in. Usually, he sits there waiting for you. Shrugging it off, you sit down at the table, pulling out all of your things and checking your phone to see if he sent anything, even though you knew it hadn’t buzzed yet. You sigh and as you look up; you see Schlatt walk past your table, going to sit somewhere in the back. You watch him settle down as you feel your heart settle down into your stomach. He doesn’t look at you, he just focuses on the smart board in the front of the room. You smoother the pain before also focusing on the board and blinking away the tears filling your eyes. The lesson goes on forever. You swear you can feel him staring at the back of your head, but you’re too afraid to let yourself hope. The moment the professor calls class, you are out of your seat and rushing home. When the front door closes behind you, you let yourself cry.

Classes for the rest of the day can wait.

You say the same thing on Tuesday, on Wednesday you justify not going so you don’t have to see him again. Every time your phone buzzes, your heart breaks a little more because it’s still not Schlatt.

There is a knock on your front door and your heart jumps with hope. You wipe your eyes and take a deep breath before opening the door. On the other side is Ash.

“Zach told me Schlatt has been weird at practice so he sent me here to see-” She looks up at you from digging in her purse. “What’s wrong?” Her simple question sets you off again. You feel your eyes fill up once again and she asks if she can come in. You nod, turning to sit back on the couch. She puts her bag down and sits next to you. “Y/n, what happened?”

“It shouldn’t matter,” you sob. “We weren’t even dating.” Ash makes a sad sound of understanding.

“It’s hurting you like this. It fucking matters.” She says firmly. She grabs tissues from her purse and hands you the pack. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I- I don’t,” you stutter. “I don’t know if I can. Some stuff happened.” Ash flashes you a look of pure anger and you quickly correct. “Some very consensual stuff happened.” She sighs with relief.

“I am an adult. I’ve probably read worse, done worse.” She nudges your shoulder and you laugh lightly.

You explain to her everything that happened. The drive from the game, dinner, the drive home, how he kissed you in front of your door, the library (she made an amusing squeal as you told her the story before she whispered ‘we’re supposed to be mad at him shush’ to herself). How he pretended you didn’t exist this morning.

“What a dick. What the fuck.” Ash was angry, and you envied the fact that she could be. You wanted to be angry with him, but all you felt was hurt and embarrassment. She is silent for a moment, clearly pondering something. “I’ve decided you’re coming with me on tomorrow.” You look at her, confused. She rolls her eyes and sighs. “Sport guy parties are always on Thursday and the baseball team is going to be there.” You shake your head, disagreeing with her, and she only smiles wide and nods. “You are going to look hot, and show that fucker what he missed out on.”

“Ash, I can barely think of him without sobbing, let alone going to a party and trying to pretend I’m doing better than I am.”

“You will, because you are.” She stood up. “Here is my number just in case you need. I’ll be here at 9P.” She leans down and kisses your forehead. “You are beautiful, you are kind, you are better.” She picks up her bag and walks to the door. She blows you a kiss and walks out. You smile genuinely for the first time in a few days.

Thursday night comes faster than you expected it to. You feel great and, according to Ash’s reaction when she saw you, you look great too.

She leads you to the kitchen, where she pours you a drink. The music is pounding against your skull and the already small enough house is crowded with too many people. Ash taps your shoulder and leans to your ear.

“Zach just texted me he is here. Are you good if I go find him fast?” You smile and nod, telling her it’s fine even though you’re dreading being alone here. She kisses your check and leaves to find her boyfriend. Not knowing if Schlatt is here or going to be is driving you crazy. You think you see him every time a tall brunette moves in the corner of your eye. Your fingers itch to text him, your heart agreeing, saying that it’s the perfect opportunity to try, but you ignore them both and move through the crowd. You hope that in your aimless crowd managing you find the bathroom, or just a quiet enough space to take a breath.

You spot a hallway with little people and make your way that way. As you turn the corner, your heart sinks. A white blonde girl has Schlatt pushed against a wall with her lips kissing at his neck. Schlatt is mumbling something to her with one hand on her shoulder and another at her waist. You stand there and stare without meaning to. The girl spots you first, saying something you can’t make out between the heartbeat rushing in your ears, the music pounding into your skull, and battling to not let yourself throw up. You push your way back through the crowd, this time not caring to be polite, just wanting to get out.

You eventually find the front door and push out, letting the cooler outside air soothe you. You send a text to Ash letting her know you left and not to wait for you. Holding your arms against your stomach, you walk a direction you think is towards your house. Someone is calling after you, but the noise gets lost chaos of your head.

“Y/n!” the voice yells as a car pulls up beside you, rolling slowly to keep up with your pace. “Please get in the car.” It’s Schlatt. You glance at him, watching as he shifts his focus from you to the road, then back to you. You shake your head and keep walking, looking straight in front of you. He calls your name again. “Where are you even going?”

“Home.”

“Well, your place is in the opposite direction.” You stop walking and take a deep breath. Then turn on your toe and start walking the aforementioned direction. “Jesus Christ.” You hear him yell. His car makes a U-turn on the street. “Come on,” he says harshly. “Get in the damn car.”

“No.” You yell, quickening your pace. Maybe if he acted like he cared half of this much earlier this week, none of this would have happened, maybe. You walk past the house party again with Schlatt still trailing you and calling your name. He is getting more and more frustrated the more you ignore him, but every time you look at him, you only see that blonde girl.

“Fuck!” you hear him yell as you walk into the nearby quad; you knew it was slightly dangerous to cut through here but you just needed to get away from him, and it was well lit enough. A car door slams and you hear his calling of your name continue. “Please, just listen to me for one goddamn minute?” He continues to yell.

“No,” You turn to face him. “No, I won’t you know why?” Schlatt is silent as you yell at him. “You ignored me all week. Which, yeah, would hurt either way but after-” Your voice cracked as the sadness you pushed down finally came rushing back to the surface. “After what we did, you ignored me.” Schlatt flinches and tries to say something, but you hold up a finger. “Then when I finally get myself together enough to go out into the public,” You point somewhere in the general direction of the party house. “One of the first things I see is a girl all over you, and now I feel crazy because we weren’t together, so it shouldn’t bother me.” You sob and Schlatt is just staring at you, but you keep going, glad to finally say this. “I feel crazy. I feel cheap. I feel used.” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is sore from the yelling. And Schlatt is just staring at you. The quad is silent, even the crickets and cicadas listening.

“I’m sorry.” Schlatt’s voice cracks as tears flood to his eyes. “I didn’t mean-” He rubs his face and runs his hands through his hair. “I never meant to make you feel that way, any of those ways.” He takes a step towards you and you take a step back. “And Nic- And she I didn’t want that,” he rubs his neck as if trying to wipe her away. “She has been after me months and I’ve been telling her I was interested in someone else.” His eyes lock with yours. “I am interested in someone else, and that was me trying to get her off.”

“Then why?” You plead. “Why ignore me like that?” Schlatt presses his lips together and runs his hands through his hair again.

“Because I thought that if I ignored it, it would go away. That if I acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t.” You scoff and turn to walk away again, but Schlatt quickly adds, “I thought that if I pretended I wasn’t falling in love with you, I could convince myself that was the truth.”

You stop walking and let his words sink into your brain. You looked back towards him.

“Please don’t say anything.” Schlatt closes his eyes and inhales. “Just please let me take you back home.” You nod. He reaches for your hand and you grab it. He leads you back to his car and opens the door for you when you get there. You climb in and take a deep breath. The smell of him completely envelops you. Tears come to your eyes as you let yourself realize how much you missed him. As he enters the car, he sees the tears.

“Oh sweetheart,” Schlatt grabs your cheeks and wipes the tears away with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry.” You silently nod and he drives to your place.

When you get to your apartment, he walks you to your door. It is a bittersweet reminder of that very first night. You insert the key to your door and push it open. Schlatt puts his hand on your shoulder and calls your name.

“I really am sorry.” His eyes have tears in them again. You grab his hand and pull him lightly through your door. Schlatt resists for a minute before letting you bring him inside.

“Sit,” You point to the couch. “I missed you or whatever.” He smiles lightly, rubs his eyes, and sits down. “Can I get you a drink?” Schlatt nods and clears his throat.

“Water, please?”

“Coming right up, make yourself comfy.” You make your way to the kitchen and grab a glass of water for him. You take a deep breath before moving back near the couch and handing him the glass before sitting next to him. Schlatt takes a sip and hums thankfully.

“I know it’s my fault,” he puts the glass down on the table in front of him. “But I really, really missed you this week.” His arm drapes against the back of the couch resting behind your head. You let a breath that mimics a sarcastic laugh. You pinch his side and he yelps before rubbing it with the hand not behind you.

“There now we’re even.” You say through giggles. Schlatt laughs and smiles widely; you feel your heart thump against your ribs. He meets your eyes once he calms down.

“One more time, I am sor-”

Your lips against his cuts him off. He kisses back almost instantly, the hand on the back of the couch moving to rest on the back of your head. You pull away slightly.

“No more of that. I said we were even.” Schlatt smirks at your comment before pulling you back into a kiss. You both lose yourselves in the kiss, completely enveloped in each other. You bite his lip lightly and he groans as he does you move down to his neck. Kissing and nipping it, making sure that in the morning if that girl came near, Schlatt would know who he wanted there, who got to be there. Schlatt pulled you over into his lap, but as you brought your leg to straddle him, you knocked the glass of water on to the floor.

Both Schlatt and you stare at it for a moment before bursting into laughter. You lean your head on Schlatt’s shoulder before standing up.

“I’ll clean this up.” He stands up from the couch. “Where are the towels?” You point to the linen closet as you pick the glass up and put it into the sink. Schlatt had moved back to the puddle in the meantime, laying the towel down and trying to mop up the water.

“Schlatt,” You call to him. He hums in response, still focused on cleaning up. You call his name again and he looks up at you. “The floor can wait.” You reach out your hand and he grabs it. Schlatt looks at you, confused, before you walk backwards to your bedroom. You watch as a smile comes to his face as he understands where you’re leading him.

As you both cross the door into your bedroom, he kisses you again. Except this time it’s harder and messier, his teeth biting at your lip and his hands in a bruising grasp at your hips. His thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt, grazing the skin there.

“May I?” He asks, pulling at the shirt. You whisper a ‘yes’ and he pulls the shirt over your head and throws it towards some corner of your room. His hands explore the new skin as his lips explore down to the skin of your neck. You moan lightly as his lips and hands meet near your collar bone. He thumbs at the front edge of your bra.

“This too?” he asks and you nod. He kisses your lips again as his hands move behind to your and he unlocks it and lets it drop. “Holy fucking christ,” He mumbles something before his hands move to grab them.

Schlatt walks the both of backwards until you hit the edge of the bed. You sit and he kneels down in front of you and his hands drag up to meet the waistband of your bottoms. He asks for permission again and you grant it before he pulls everything down, leaving you bare in front of him.

He uses his big hands to grab your knees and pull them apart and cursing under his breath as he looks at you. His lips replace his hands as slowly he kisses up your left thigh all the way to your hip before moving back down and repeating it on the other side. You quickly get impatient as he keeps getting close to your apex but never touching it.

“Schlatt please,” you plead and he looks up at you from between your thighs.

“Yes ma’am,” He smirks before diving nose first into you. He licks from your slit before moving his tongue to your clit. He moves slowly but speeds up as he hears you moan. As his tongue laps at you, one of his fingers enters you slowly. He thrusts it in and out a few times before adding a second one. With his finger messaging your walls and his tongue on your clit, you cum fast and hard. Schlatt works you through it, letting you come down before he removes his fingers and face leaves you.

“I have been dreaming of that since the library.” He licks his fingers before using the inside of his elbow to wipe the rest of you off his mouth. His face is red and his eyes are dark and glistening. You grab his cheeks and pull him up to you, kissing him. His lips taste slightly bitter as your slick still sticks to his mouth. As you kiss him, you reach your hands under his shirt, pushing it up. Understanding the silent command, he breaks from the kiss to pull it off, adding it to the pile of discarded clothing. You drag your hands down his chest, admiring him before your hands dip down to palm him through his pants. Schlatt groans at the euphoric relief of pressure. You undo his belt and pants button, pushing down his pants and underwear as far as you could, then letting him pull the rest of his pants off. You move your hands down to his cock, beginning to jerk him off, but he stops you.

“No, no, this is me making up for everything.” He says, “move up and lay back. Let me take care of you.” You smile gently and push yourself up on the bed. Schlatt moves on top of you, using one of his arms to hold his weight and the other to rub circles on your hip. “You’re so beautiful,” he kisses you quickly. “You know that, right? You know I think you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen?” You turned your head away from him, embarrassed, but he used the hand on your hip to turn your face back to him. “Look at me, I’m serious.” You only can nod at the sudden sternness in his voice. “I’ll repeat it well past the point that you believe it, too.” He kisses you as he moves his cock towards your entrance. “You sure?”

“Yes. Schlatt, please, fuck.”

“That is the anticipated point, yes.” He smirks before pushing into you slowly. You moan and wince at the intrusion. He stops as he fully enters you, letting you adjust.

“Move, fuck, please move.” You beg. He groans and thrusts in and out of you. You moan as his thumb rubs circles against your clit. As he brings you closer to your edge, your walls vise around him, causing his pace to falter.

“Baby,” he says through gritted teeth. “You’re gripping me so tight I can’t-”

“Then don’t.” You moan, causing Schlatt to pull out of you and cum all over your stomach. His thumb, however, quickly gets back to work on your clit, making you cum again. You both just lay there panting for a moment, catching your breaths. He stands up and pulls his underwear on before leaving the room quickly to grab and wet a towel. When he reenters the room, he wipes you down and cleans his cum off of your stomach. Once you’re cleaned up, Schlatt grabs his shirt off the floor and pulls it over your head and climbs into bed next yo you.

He lifts an arm up, inviting you to come lay on his chest, and you happily do. Schlatt kisses the top of your head as comfortable, homely, and tired silence fills your bedroom. You play with his fingers as your brain shuts down for the night.

“You know,” you say, he sleepily hums into your hair. “I think i’m falling in love with you too.”

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

The James Potter Affair - CHAPTER TWO

Written for Day 6 of Jily Week 2024, run by the very lovely @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee, using the theme Inspired By... - an excuse to write the AU of my dreams, which in my case turns out to be a new multi-chapter story based on the film The Thomas Crown Affair, starring Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo.

Insurance Investigator Lily Evans is assigned to recover priceless artefacts stolen in a daring heist from the British Museum. Her chief suspect? Billionaire philanthropist James Potter... It’s a high stakes game of cat and mouse that only one of them can win - and Lily's determined that it's going to be her.

In this chapter, Lily's hot on the trail of the gold, and determined to get the measure of James Potter.

Rated M - because it's gonna get smutty at some point! Probably chapter 3

Read on AO3 Latest Chapter // From the Beginning

See below the cut for a Gen-rated snippet.

Lily did not return to Scotland Yard on Wednesday. After the interview with James Potter, she had more important things to do than sit around listening to Remus taking witness statements, and top of that list was to work out what made Potter tick. After all, retrieving the gold meant building a profile of how he thought, how he behaved, and what his next move was likely to be. It was surprisingly simple to accomplish that particular mission, and by the time she strolled back into the incident room late on Thursday morning, she was even more convinced of his guilt.  

She arrived to find Remus seated at his desk, surrounded by piles of paperwork and looking as though he’d barely slept. Unfortunately, he didn’t share the confidence of her conviction. 

“Feelings count for nothing, Lily!” he lectured her. “Your theory is so thin, it doesn’t even count as circumstantial!”

“I’m telling you, Remus,” she insisted. “It’s definitely him.”

“Based on what?” he scoffed.

Lily placed her palms on his desk and leant forward. Her eyes bored into his. “Do you know what he did yesterday?”

“I’m not sure I want to, do I?” he asked, warily. Then his shoulders slumped with resignation. “Though I expect you’re going to tell me anyway.”

Read on AO3 Latest Chapter // From the Beginning

[milawritesstuff]

I’m sure we all saw those pics of Pedri & the boys are the NBA game for warriors & lakers. He looked so cute & huggable & so boyfriend material ugh anyways can you do a pedri x gf reader where she joins him for the game & their like not public but not private either but they officially are exposed on the kiss cam. If you can make her like a Latina American (just basing her off myself, if not that’s totally fine) & obvi just super cute & bf material pedri 🥰

A/N: Ugh that video of him at the match last night he’s so damn soft. I feel like I can touch that video and ughhhh I’m going crazy for this man lol.

Anyways hope you guys like this. Also, I wanted to make it part of this other one that I wrote … so it’s going to be the same Y/N from THIS story.

I hope you guys like it, I just wrote is super quick.

•••

He stared into the phone screen. Even though you were almost 6,000 miles away whenever he looked at the screen when you were on video call you couldn’t help but blush. His brown eyes shined as he looked into the screen with a sense of hope. He stayed quiet for a few seconds.

-I have to tell you something but don’t get mad.-

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach when he said those words. The last few months hadn’t been easy. After spending a few months together and you deciding to return to the states you had only seen each other less than a handful of times. These daily video calls were the only thing that kept you going. You tried not to pay attention to all of the rumors surrounding him because you knew you were the one he woke up at the crack of dawn to talk to or would stay up late for due to the time difference. But you still knew a long distance relationship was difficult.

-What?- You answer.

-Xavi is giving us a few days off after the Osasuna match and well …-

-Pedri you’re making me nervous, just spit it out.-

He flung his arms in the air.

-Joder, Eric, Fer, and I were thinking of going to the NBA playoffs but I don’t want you to get mad because I should actually be going to visit you instead and…- You cut him off.

-Babe, it’s okay. I know it’s something you’ve always wanted to do so please go. Besides in a few months I’ll be in Barcelona.-

-Are you sure?- He asks. -It’s going to be a quick trip, maybe two days so we can get back on time.-

You shake your head and giggle. -Vamos amor, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I promise.-

The two of you stayed on the phone for a few more minutes before it was time to say goodbye. As soon as you ended the call with Pedri you messaged his brother.

Y/N: Fer, please ask Eric if he can get a ticket to the game for me without Pedri knowing, I want to surprise him.

Fer: On it

Y/N: And ask if you can stay in his room 😉

Fer: 🫡🫡

You knew Pedri would be flying out Wednesday night after the team’s practice and would be arriving late Wednesday in San Francisco. You booked a flight out of Los Angeles early Thursday morning.

You knocked twice on the hotel room door.

-Did you order room service?- You heard Pedri ask his brother in the room.

Fernando laughed. -No, but open it, it’s a surprise.-

Your heart began to beat faster as you heard Pedri’s steps get closer to the door. You felt like throwing up when you saw the handle turn. His face lit up as soon as he saw you and dashed over to take you in his arms. He lifted you in a hug.

-I know you would have preferred Steph Curry but … surprise!- You said as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. He let out a laugh. -Tonta, you’re better than Steph Curry any day.-

You spent the day with Pedri, going out to eat with Eric and Ferran and doing a bit of sightseeing. You had been to San Francisco a million times but seeing it through Pedri’s eyes was magical. It reminded you of how your parents would act when you went to new places. Being immigrants from Latin America, to them being able to take you on trips to see new places was living the American dream. And you couldn’t believe in just a few months you were giving up the American dream for this beautiful Spanish boy.

The night was going to end with the main reason the boys had traveled for, the NBA playoffs. Pedri smiled at you as your group walked to the entrance of the Chase Center. You thought about how nice the day had been because nobody had recognized him. You were able to walk around the city and even on the Golden Gate Bridge holding hands without anyone taking pictures or asking him for anything. A few pictures of the two of you had came out when you were in Barcelona but for almost a year now you had managed to keep your relationship quiet. You preferred it that way, knowing and mentally preparing yourself for what would ensue once the fans found out you had moved in with him in a few months.

As you walked into the Chase Center you let go of Pedri’s hand. Something telling you that there would be cameras and more people who could recognize him and you wanted him to avoid more rumors. Pedri looked back at you and furrowed his brows. You smiled back at him hoping he wouldn’t ask why you had let go of his hand. Luckily Eric dragged him and took the attention away from you. You and Fer stayed behind as Fer took video of everything going on.

Eventually you found your seats. Eric went first followed by Pedri and you decided to let Fernando go after him so that you would be at the end. Once Pedri sat down and he realized his brother was next to him instead of you he turned to look over at you. -Babe!- He called for your attention.

-Que pasa, Pedri?-

He reached his hand out over Fer and grabbed yours. -You belong next to me. Why are you sitting all the way over there?-

You shrugged your shoulders. -There’s cameras everywhere and you know …-

Pedri shook his head. -Come here. Fer move over.-

You did as he asked and sat down next to him. Your hand in his. He leaned over to look at you. -Is that why you let go of my hand when we walked in?-

-Yeah.-

-Amor, they’re going to find out sooner or later and honestly I don’t care anymore. You sit next to me so everyone can see I have the most beautiful girl here.-

You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. He turned around to talk to Eric while his hand continued to hold yours. You stared stupidly at him wondering how in the world you had gotten so lucky to find him and for him to love you the way he did.

A few people came over to take pictures of Pedri and Eric and even one person did a short interview. You managed to stay out of the limelight until the kiss cam came on. You and Pedri stared at the Jumbotron as people laughed.

-Sometimes they chose siblings and it’s super awkward.- You whisper into Pedri’s ear who continues to laugh as he claps and looks at the screen.

-See, they would have done that with Fer and I if you hadn’t moved your seats.- He says causing you to laugh. As the two of you are laughing and staring at each other you feel Fer nudge you.

-Vamos, vamos pareja look!-

You look up and see the screen focused on you and Pedri. Your cheeks glowing red from embarrassment. Pedri turns over to look at you and winks. -I said they would find out sooner or later, I guess it’s going to be sooner.- You smile as he leans in and places a kiss on your lips. His soft hand cupping your chin as his soft wet lips take yours in.

The kiss ends and Pedri pulls away as the two of you give the camera a thumbs up.

TAG LIST:

@cinderellawithashoe @httpswiftie @simpingmyassoff @bubblebeep69 @fictional-l0v3r @httpspedri26 @0alanasworld0 @l0verl4ne @gaviypedrisbride @footballerficsposts @fashphotolife @beaschampagneproblems @jvsgnjrtpdar5stkd-tv-m @ikkehehe @jjishotasf @quemirasboboandapaya @maricciardo @gaviswh0re @pedriwifefrfr @dustell @elijahslover @formula1mount

[1d1195]

Neighbors II

Read the first part here: Neighbors I

(At least two more parts after this one, I think!)

Harry could feel his cheeks warming at her assessment because even though his mum and Gemma told him he was a lovely human being, they were his family. They adored him because he was lovely but they would have thought that anyway. There was no greater praise than hearing it from the mouth of a pure angel.

It was Friday. Which meant the three of them were supposed to be in her living room watching one of Rory’s movies and eating pizza. But instead, Harry was looking at the house across the road wishing he could see through the walls more than ever. Did she miss him? Did Rory ask about him? He had no business of being missed or asked about. But Harry was so invested in their lives. Rory was arguably his best friend. He told him just about everything and was happy to teach him all the things he needed to know to be a little man. And then her...

Well, Harry had never missed a woman before like this.

It was different though; he couldn’t just ask about her. She had a child and that was her priority—Harry knew that. But something was off, and he didn’t know what he did but all he wanted was to mend the issue.

So, he watched their house from his window hoping for an answer to float across the way.

Rory was watching the TV quietly nibbling at his pizza while she watched the sweet boy giggle at the funny parts even though it was unbearably quiet in comparison to when Harry was here for pizza on Fridays. She thought back to the time Rory invited Harry the first time.

“Mumma, can we have pizza with Harry?” Rory asked. It was a sudden question. The little one looking at Harry on his front porch reading a book and sipping some iced tea in the middle of the summer. She bit her lip. There hadn’t been a single day that week where she wasn’t asking Harry for something.

On Monday he hurried to her car when he saw her pull in from the grocery store while he was at the mailbox getting his mail. Tuesday morning brought in a rainstorm and dropped a sizeable branch in the middle of her yard that needed to be removed ASAP before the kids could play in the yard on Wednesday. It was the very next morning the sound of her scream sent Harry flying across the street knocking anxiously at her door wondering what was harming her. “I’m sorry, I know this is stupid, but there is a frog that snuck in the house.”

“Mommy doesn’t like frogs,” Rory giggled cutely from behind her leg and biting her lip impishly. The relief Harry felt that she and Rory were unharmed was immeasurable. Chuckling to himself (and to Rory) he coaxed the little creature out with the help of Rory while she stayed in a different room waiting for her nightmare to be over.

“My heroes,” she said kissing Rory on the cheek when he came running to tell her they thwarted the frog.

Harry wished she would kiss him on the cheek.

Of course, Harry took his duty seriously watching Rory that Thursday evening as well. Which meant by Friday, when Harry had a long week of working and doing whatever he did to help her out every single day this week, it seemed unfair of her to ask him to hang out again. Surely on a Friday night, in the middle of a beautiful summer, Harry would have better plans than hanging out with a four-year-old and his mom eating pizza.

“I don’t know, baby. I think Harry might need some space from us.”

“Harry said he loves playing with me,” Rory pouted.

She frowned. “Well of course he does, baby. But...Harry has other friends he might want to play with,” she told him. Rory was always a good listener. He did exactly as he was told from the moment he was born.

But this was the first time he ignored his mom in favor of asking for his neighbor.

“Harry!” He shouted loudly from the porch and took off from their little porch.

“Rory James,” she scolded. She remembered the first time she used Rory’s full name in front of Harry and how sad Rory looked. It was nothing to him now, the feisty little boy took it in stride and raced away from his mom.

Harry gave a wave at his name and Rory took off for the road before she could say otherwise. “Look both ways,” she called at the same time Harry did. It made her melt a little to know Harry cared about her son’s well-being as much as she did. (And Rory did look both ways, because he was a very good listener for a four-year-old.)

Harry hurried off his porch to meet Rory in the yard—she was still close behind but at a leisurely pace. Harry got the sense she didn’t want to be a bother (as if that was possible). He wondered what Rory was so up in arms about. He crouched in front of the breathless little one. He heaved his little lungs.

“Do you want to have pizza with us?” He asked excitedly. “Mommy said you need space from us,” he told him. “But I tolded her that you love playing with me.”

She sighed and smirked, slightly annoyed at her little boy for telling the whole truth. “Uh...” Harry chuckled. “Rory, I don’t—”

“You are always welcome over, Harry,” she said softly. “We are getting pizza if you want to come over. I just told Rory you might have plans already.”

If Harry did have plans, he would have cancelled them to hang out with his two neighbors; nothing sounded better than being with his beautiful neighbor and the adorable boy for the evening. “I do like pizza,” he winked at Rory.

“Can we finish our game?” He asked grabbing Harry by the hand and tugging him back toward his house. “Can we show Mumma?”

“Sure lad, we can show Mummy,” he smiled at the sweet girl. “Hi, beautiful,” he greeted finally.

She looked at Rory nervously and Harry swore her face warmed at his greeting. No one had ever greeted her like that in her life. It made her stomach flutter and she turned on her heel letting the boys follow behind her.

Harry missed having pizza on Fridays with them. Since she stopped talking to Harry the days felt endless. He couldn’t focus on anything. His clients probably noticed how differently he’d been acting since the onset of the silent treatment.

As important as it was to mend the relationship between himself and her, Harry really hoped Rory knew it had nothing to do with him and Harry wasn’t abandoning him. But for those two Thursdays that passed, it was breaking Harry’s heart to be without his little best friend.

*

“Mumma, can we have a fire?” Rory asked. “Maybe Harry has s’more stuff.”

She knew there would be no avoiding Harry if they had a fire out front. Sure, they could have it out back, but then it would be obvious from the smell and the smoke that she was hiding from Harry. “Not today, baby,” she said softly. “We’ve gotta go soon,” she reminded him.

Rory sighed heavily. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to have s’mores like that first day he learned about them back when he was too young to remember the day but knew what happened because there had been so many days he had s’mores after that first one.

Harry was finishing his run just before the sun fully set when he saw a flurry of bubbles floating through the air. At first, he thought he wasn’t getting enough oxygen to his brain due to his run and his vision was going right before the point of fainting. He slowed to a jog and turned his music down. As he rounded the corner of the street, he followed the trail of them to Rory and the pretty girl in their yard. “Rory, this is not something we can play around, do you understand?” She asked. He nodded obediently, sitting in his little lawn chair beside the small fire she had started making the entire neighborhood smell like a candle. It was so homey and lovely. Harry loved living across the street from them—loved being part of the neighborhood that had the beautiful girl and sweet boy.

“Can I blow bubbles still?” He asked.

“Yes, baby,” she smiled and tended to the little fire pit she had set up. Her eye caught Harry’s and she gave a small wave. Rory caught it and waved excitedly at him.

“Hi Harry! Come here!” He shouted, waving his hand over to him hurriedly. Harry sauntered over, admiring once more how she gave this sweet boy everything she possibly could and then some.

“Are y’having a s’more party?” Harry asked.

“S’more what?” Rory asked curiously. Harry laughed at his misworded question.

“You remember s’mores, Rory,” she giggled as she went over to her car and Harry knelt beside the little one while he blew bubbles. Harry knew she was only meters away at most from him, but Harry would jump into the fire for that little boy...and her. She pulled another chair from the boot of her car and Harry felt stupid not realizing she was being kind to give Harry a seat. He hurried quickly to take hold of the chair from her and brought it to Rory’s side while she closed her car back up. “We had them at Auntie’s cookout, with the marshmallows and chocolate. Auntie likes them burnt, remember?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Oh!” He said suddenly then turned to Harry blowing more bubbles. “Mumma doesn’t like them burnt. She likes them golden brown.”

“My kinda marshmallow,” Harry winked at him.

“Can we have s’mores Mumma?” Rory asked.

She frowned briefly. “I don’t think we have the stuff for s’mores, baby, but we can go to the store tomorrow and—”

“I think I might have ‘em, hold on,” Harry said and darted across the street. Harry thought nothing of it but to her it meant the world.

“I like Harry,” Rory said to his mom blowing more bubbles.

“I do too,” she answered.

“Do you want to blow some bubbles?” Rory asked her so inquisitively it melted her whole body, and she didn’t know how to love anyone as much as she loved this adorable little boy.

“I’m okay right now,” she smiled at him.

But then Harry returned carrying s’mores sticks, a box of graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows and she thought she spontaneously grew a second heart just to fit Harry in the space of her chest that she would only ever have for Rory once he was born.

“Harry, do you want to blow some bubbles? Can you show Mumma the really big bubble?” Rory asked excitedly holding the wand out to him.

“Rory, baby, he brought over a treat for you, give him a moment, yeah?”

“Sorry,” he smiled excitedly.

Harry snorted with a grin. Handing the s’mores ingredients to her, he took the wand from Rory and looked at her as she opened up the graham cracker box. “S’my one party trick,” he told her.

“I see,” she smiled. “I’ve heard all about it.”

Harry took a deep breath and blew a sizeable bubble for sure; one that had Rory in awe once more. “Isn’t that cool Mumma?”

“Very cool. You’ll have to ask Harry to show you how to do it,” she winked at Harry.

“Mumma’s good at blowing too,” Rory nodded at Harry knowingly.

Harry had the biggest grin on his face as he pressed his hand over his mouth to keep it under wraps. “Jesus,” she muttered under her breath and pinched the bridge of her nose pausing her opening of the supplies. Harry snickered.

“Blowing bubbles is a good skill,” Harry said ignoring Rory’s unknown innuendo once more but couldn’t help but think about it anyway, he sent a wink in her direction, and she rolled her eyes. Kids say the darndest things and all that.

“How come you have s’mores supplies?” She asked curiously diverting drastically from Rory’s mishap.

“S’summer,” he shrugged. “Y’have t’be prepared for s’mores,” he said.

“A regular boy scout you are, Harry,” she smiled.

Harry wondered if she would even ask if she needed something now. Or if she had to be prepared for everything. He knew it was only two or so weeks and it wasn’t as if her house was going to suddenly catch fire. But after two years of seeing his neighbors just about every day, he wished he could just ask what went wrong and how he could fix it. All he wanted was to be there for the two of them.

But really, he wanted to be there for her. She was always there for everyone else. She didn’t have a choice and Harry knew it because of the fact she was a mom, a babysitter, a hard worker but most importantly herself. There wasn’t a world in which she wouldn’t give someone a piece of her if they asked politely.

With all the time Harry spent across the street he wanted nothing more than to be the person she was for everyone else. The one she could depend on for anything. It broke his heart to know she was trying to do it all on her own and gave up on Harry after so long. And really, he did know it wasn’t all that long of a time. But for a five-year-old (and Harry) it felt like a lifetime.

*

“Rory, Harry’s driveway and back,” she said.

Harry had truly gone above and beyond for them today. Rory’s bike had seen better days and she decided it was time Rory got a new one (especially with his new growth spurt). This one had its training wheels still intact and so not only did Harry go to the store to help him pick out a bike (and nearly tried paying for it when she wasn’t looking), but Harry also strapped it to her car safely, and found the tools to remove the training wheels and fix the seat. He didn’t even mind when Rory insisted he help despite it making it an unnecessarily challenging and lengthy process. Once the wheels were off though, there was no stopping Rory. It was agreed that as long as he had his helmet on Rory could ride the little path between their houses.

“Thank you,” she said so gratefully. She always sounded grateful, but it made Harry’s chest warm over. He didn’t need the heartfelt thank you, he would have done it anyway. Her kindness just made him happier.

“Of course, beautiful. Anything for you guys,” he smiled at her sweetly and reached out to give her arm a squeeze. It sent a tingling sensation all the way through her veins and Harry wondered if she ever felt electricity like the way he just felt it. “M’jus’ gonna put this away,” he said nodding toward her backyard. While putting the forgotten wheels and tools back in her shed, Rory came racing back nearly breathless.

“There’s people at your house!” Rory said excitedly. “They like my bike!”

Harry tilted his head curiously. He wasn’t expecting visitors, but he was glad they liked Rory’s bike, nonetheless. He snagged Rory off the ground and placed him on his hip. “Well, they must be good company. Let’s go see ‘em,” he grinned and Rory nodded.

Harry pushed the gate back to the front of the house open and he smiled. “Ah...” he hummed. “Well isn’t this a surprise,” he called. The three women turned to the sound of his voice and Anne and Gemma waved to the two boys.

“Who are they?” Rory asked.

“That’s my mum and sister,” he whispered to Rory, but he was sure they could hear.

“Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you had a mom too,” he said.

“Sure do,” he smiled and set Rory back down on his own feet. The sweet girl was just ending her sentence that sounded like an introduction that melted into telling his family how much she loved having him as a neighbor. Harry could feel his cheeks warming at her assessment because even though his mum and Gemma told him he was a lovely human being, they were his family. They adored him because he was lovely but they would have thought that anyway. There was no greater praise than hearing it from the mouth of a pure angel.

“Is this Rory?” Anne asked.

“It certainly is,” she smiled.

“Well, hi Rory,” Gemma said crouching down in front of him. “Harry’s told us so much about you! Thanks for playing with him all the time!”

“Say hi,” she encouraged the little one. “That’s Harry’s sister. Like me and Auntie,” she winked at Rory when he shyly hid behind her leg. Rory knelt beside her leg as well.

“This is Gemma,” Harry said. “And my mum,” he gestured. She waved back.

“Mummy was just showing us your new bike,” Anne said.

Rory nodded. “I can ride it all by myself,” he said proudly.

“No way!” Gemma said in surprise. “You must be ten years old!”

He giggled and shook his head. “No m’five!” He said holding his hand up.

“FIVE?!” Gemma gasped dramatically. “Oh my goodness, you look so much older,” she nodded knowingly. The pride on Rory’s face continued.

“Do you want to show us how you ride?” Anne asked.

“Harry helped teached me,” he nodded and gathered the bike up to standing so he could show it off.

“Harry taught you,” she said sweetly nodding. “Harry does a lot of teaching around here,” her voice was full of admiration, but Harry was busy helping Rory in the middle of the road. He smiled back at all the ladies in his life.

“She’s stunning, Harry,” Gemma said to her brother while his mum stood by with the girl in the yard. Rory was zooming back and forth between the driveways while the siblings stood in the middle of the road. Harry felt a smug proudness and he smiled shyly, nodding at his sister’s words.

“She’s amazing, Gem,” he hummed quietly, the admiration was so thick in his voice and there wasn’t a reason he should be so enamored in that moment, but he was. Gemma smiled at her brother who only had eyes for the girl chatting with their mother.

“I really love that,” she said giving his arm a squeeze.

*

After Gemma and Anne left, Rory was quite tired from all the excitement of meeting new people. With a sweaty little helmet head, she turned the water on in the bathtub to a warm temperature. “Go pick out some jammies,” she said sitting on the tub edge.

Rory nodded and rubbed his fist against his eye getting tired by the moment. “Mumma? I like Harry,” he said from the hallway.

Smiling, she nodded. “I like him too,” she said softly.

“Is Harry going to be my dad? Will we move across the street?” He asked with a giant yawn.

The questions were so innocent. Harry had been in their lives for two years and a few months. Every day they saw him made her heart flutter as if it were that first day he pulled into his drive and came over to introduce himself to Rory. There were so many times he made her life feel so complete—helping Rory learn and being there for him when she couldn’t answer his questions made her long for something she didn’t think was possible after Rory was born.

How many nights had been spent praying for someone that would love her and Rory so much? How did she get so lucky to meet Harry? How many times had she thought about living with her neighbor since she met him?

But somehow it twisted and spiraled into awful thoughts when Rory asked it.

The questions and prayers she used to beg to be asked and answered devolved into horrible what-if questions that couldn’t leave her mind.

What if he finds someone else? Someone that doesn’t have a son... What if he gets a new job and leaves? What if he gets a girlfriend? What if we do date and then it changes everything? What if he doesn’t like me anymore?

Why would he want to be in a relationship with someone that has a son?

“Oh...oh Rory,” she whispered softly. “I...I don’t think,” she felt the pain of saying Harry wouldn’t be his dad in every part of her body. She could feel it stabbing like thousands of tiny needles on her tongue. It made her feel sick. “Harry isn’t...” she shook her head and sighed prepared to break Rory’s little heart. “Rory, I’m sorry, baby,” she started.

And her own.

[marblemoonstones]

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter nine

main masterlist

series masterlist 

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au 

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, curse words, too many italicized words *lmk if i missed any*

word count: ~4.4k

a/n: i really love this chapter sm so i hope you do too :) also sorry for the time skip, i am planning out the rest of the series and need to reach a certain point!  ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A couple weeks pass since that night, and I find myself happier than normal. I gave up on moving to the dorms because the boys immediately shot that idea down when I brought it up to them. 

Sure, the rumors are still happening, but I am doing my best to ignore them and they’ve died down a bit for now. Although, whenever the boys see Haneul they are icier than normal.

It’s the delicious time of the year where autumn is in full swing. Hot chocolate is coming into season and so is cider. I bust out the sweaters and jeans as well as my thick fluffy socks. 

The second week in October is also arts week at uni. The university brings in alumni and also has all students who are involved in art in some way participate. While all the boys (minus Jungkook) don’t attend uni anymore, they’re all alumni and annually participate (minus Namjoon). He tells me that he still enjoys arts week thoroughly though.

I also take part during this beautifully hectic week. I’m in choir and also am doing a dance showcase. Jimin reveals his contemporary dance idea for us two (I omit that I already knew about it) so we’re practicing hard for that. 

The boys made me a schedule. Well, “the boys” really means that Yoongi added all our events to one big shared calendar that is really all of our schedules. I color coded my events so I can keep them all straight.

Monday: art gallery with joon 

Tuesday: visit tae gallery 

Wednesday: watch jk film starring jin @6pm

Thursday: visit yoongi showcase/gallery

Friday: concert @7, arrive @6pm!!

Saturday: final rehearsal @10am. dance showcase @6pm, arrive @4!!

It’s currently Sunday evening and the boys and I are watching a movie (Mulan) before the chaos of the week starts. This past week has been hell as well, but we made a promise to each other to be available Sunday evening for a rest. 

I look around and see that Hobi and Taehyung have already conked out. Jimin is carding his fingers through Tae’s hair and sends me a soft smile when I glance at him. 

The mood is so cozy and I find myself dozing on Jin’s shoulder. Once in a while he’ll ghost a soft kiss on the top of my head. I’m too tired to wonder why. The last thing I remember is an avalanche before I’m out.

~

I am a queencard, you wanna be the queencard? Imma a queencard, imma queencard…

The voices of G-idle wake me up and I groan, regretting my alarm choices. I thought I was so smart to use a powerful pop song to wake up to, hoping that it would motivate me for the killer week ahead. Instead, I want to chuck my phone into outer space.

“Alright alright. I get it. I’m a queencard,” I mumble under my breath. Stretching, I turn off the alarm and relish in the silence. 

…

“Y/n! Y/N! Y/N!” 

My door bursts open. Well. That lasted about two seconds. It’s Taehyung and Jungkook. What a surprise.

“What?” I ask, annoyed that they’re barging in at the early time of 8:23am (which, hypothetically isn’t that early but I need an excuse to complain about). 

“You ready for this week? It’s gonna be killer Y/n!” Jungkook cheers, bouncing on my bed like a child would on Christmas morning.

I shove him off as Tae cackles.

“Fuck off. It’s too early for this. Why are you in here?” I ask, trying to herd them out, but failing because they have the core strength of gods. 

“Because breakfast is gonna be ready soon! And Jin-hyung wanted to give you time to get ready and stuff beforehand!” Tae almost shouts. 

I cringe, my eardrums practically exploding. 

“Okay, thanks. Now get out.” I point to the door and can sense their hesitation so I use their moment of weakness to shove them again.

“Get. Out!” 

They leave and I sigh as I lean against the door. How much caffeine have they had? I wonder as I go to shower.

~

I wrap my towel around me and shove on my glasses. The steam in the bathroom just fogs them up so I open the door. 

“AAH!” I scream, shutting it instantly. 

Yoongi’s standing in the middle of my room, looking bored amongst the pink and green hues.

“What do you want?!” I shout, placing one hand on my beating heart in the bathroom.

“Sorry, Y/n. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he starts, “It’s just that I was sent to give you this dress from Namjoon.” 

What? A dress? Couldn’t he have given me that without giving me a heart attack?

“Okay,” I grind out, already annoyed at the energetic wake up call from the maknaes, “Why can’t he give it to me himself?” 

“Because he was too afraid that he’d rip or stain it or something,” is the response.

That makes sense, but I’m still kind of pissed off at Yoongi just coming in my room.

“Great. Thanks for the dress, Yoongi, now can you get out? I need to get dressed in this apparently special outfit and you’re kinda barring me from that.” I say, sarcasm dripping from my tone. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. And sorry about the maknaes coming in to wake you up too. I’ll go,” says the ever respectful Yoongi. 

“Thank you,” I say gratefully through the bathroom door.

I hear my bedroom door shut and crack the bathroom door open. Peering out, there’s no one in my room and I open the door all the way. There’s a package on the bed which I can only assume is the dress Yoongi was talking about.

I put on my undergarments and carefully open the dress. I pull it out and it’s one of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen. 

The smooth fabric is a stunning shade of brown and has shimmers of gold sewn into it. The long sleeves add elegance and the tiered skirt makes it seem as if it’s a ball gown and not a normal day dress. I try it on and it magically fits perfectly. It reaches my ankles, but with shoes on I won’t step on it. I feel truly pretty, and wonder how the boys always know what looks best on me. 

I forego hair and makeup for after breakfast and make my way downstairs feeling way too overdressed, especially for a Monday.

I descend the stairs, holding up the dress like I’m Snow White or something. 

Just  my luck: they’re all gathered at the kitchen table.

Namjoon is the first to see me, eyes becoming bigger than saucers and I swear his mouth drops a little. 

The other boys soon follow suit. Jin chokes on his food and Hobi almost drops his mug. Yoongi is frozen like a statue and the maknaes full on “Woah.” 

“Um, good morning?” I say, stifling my laugh at their shell shocked expressions.

“You look so fucking good,” Jungkook blurts out.

Jin, having taken a sip of water, promptly spits it out.

I crack at that. This shatters the silence and soon everyone is laughing with me.

“H-hyung-” Jimin is in stitches and almost falls out of his chair. “-you spit water right on Yoongi-hyung!” 

I look, and sure enough, Yoongi’s sitting there like a wet cat. There’s not too much water, but it makes the situation much funnier. We all die, and Jimin actually does fall out of his chair.

“Oh boy, what a way to start the morning,” Hobi says, wiping his tears.

“Yeah. I guess the dress is pretty good,” I say, then thank Jungkook for his compliment. “Thanks Kook, by the way. I appreciate it.”

He just grins his bunny smile. 

“Jungkook is absolutely right, Y/n. You look stunning, sweetpea,” Namjoon says, casually throwing in that damn nickname again. 

I smooth out the skirt, avoiding his eyes. “Thanks, Joon. It means a lot.”

“Namjoon has such good taste!” Exclaims Hobi, then he pouts. “I wish I was taking you to a fancy schmany art gallery.” 

“It’s okay, Hobi,” I almost laugh at his exaggerated pouty face. “We have plenty of time to do things together after arts week!” 

“Why don’t you sit down Y/n, have some breakfast before you leave,” Jin says, gesturing to the table. 

“Wait, we don’t want you to spill anything on your dress,” says Taehyung. He quickly gets an apron and ties it around my waist. 

“Isn’t this Jin’s apron?” I ask, looking at the familiar lilac hue with the stain in the corner. 

“Yes, but of course you can wear it honey,” says Jin. I’m going to have to start counting how many times they use nicknames.

“Okay, thanks.” I dig into the delicious spread. We chat about our plans for today. Hobi and Jimin have their individual dance rehearsals, Jungkook has to go to the first day of the film festival, Yoongi has to attend his music gallery, and Taehyung is putting the finishing touches on his designs. Jin doesn’t have much to do today, but I know he’ll accompany someone to their respective event today.

After finishing a semi-peaceful breakfast, it’s time for all of us to face the realities of the day. 

Everyone scatters and I turn to Namjoon, asking him what time we need to be at the exhibit.

“It starts at eleven, so we have about an hour until we need to leave,” he replies. 

I nod and then decide to go help wash the dishes since there’s nothing better for me to do. 

“Nuh uh. You’re not washing the dishes in that dress. Go sit,” Jin commands. 

“But Jin,” I whine, “I’m booored. We don’t leave for another hour! And I can’t help anyone else. What am I supposed to do until then?” 

He chuckles at my misery.

“I know, honey, but maybe just read or something. Enjoy this bored feeling while it lasts.” He shoos me out of the kitchen so I decide to go upstairs because I realize that I forgot to do my hair and makeup.

I’m walking up the stairs as Jungkook comes rushing down. We collide with a small “Oof!” I feel…damp, so I look down and see that my dress is wet. 

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry, Y/n,” Jungkook says, panic written on his face, “Your dress! I’m such an idiot. Oh my god. I can’t believe I did that.” 

He seems to have spilled his coffee on my dress.

“It’s okay!” I try to reassure Jungkook, but Jin is already at the scene. 

“Kook! Watch where you’re going!” He scolds, but doesn’t berate the poor boy much longer because Jungkook looks about close to tears. 

All over a dress, I think. 

“I’m so sorry Y/n! I’ll pay for dry cleaning, whatever it needs!” 

Jin grabs some napkins to dab at the growing stain but it’s no use. I know that I won’t be wearing this today.

“It’s fine, Kook.” I try to give him a reassuring smile, but he doesn’t seem to buy it. 

“No, it’s not Y/n! Why aren’t you upset?” He asks me desperately.

I’m confused. 

“Is that…how you want me to react?” I ask him, befuddled at his reaction.

“No, it’s just that the average person would be mad at Kook,” Jin explains, finishing dabbing at the excess of coffee, “But it looks like you’re not an average person.” 

I grab Jungkook’s hands and look him in the eye. “Jungkook, I promise, I don’t care. I will find something else to wear. Now go.” I give him a look and he grudgingly goes to leave. 

“Thank you, Y/n,” Jin murmers quietly to me, “He’s been so stressed over the film festival that even a small thing upsets him more than it should.” 

“It’s all good,” I reply, “I understand.” 

We part ways and I go upstairs to tell Namjoon that I can’t wear his dress that he chose. 

“It’s okay, Y/n, I heard what happened,” he says, and I try not to ogle him in his button up and tie. 

“Okay, great. Let me go change and touch myself up,” I say, turning away so I can’t see his muscles underneath his shirt. 

“Y/n!” I run into Taehyung on the short distance from Namjoon’s room to my own.

“Yeah?” I ask, mentally running through my closet to find another dress to wear.

“I have a dress you can wear!” This snaps me out of my thoughts.

“You do?” I ask, although I shouldn’t be surprised because Taehyung is a goddamn fashion designer.

“Yes! Come to my room and I can give it to you!” Before I can say anything more he gently pulls me to his room.

I internally gag at the amount of stuff in his room, much like Jungkook’s but with more artsy elements thrown in like crystals on the desk or colored pencils strewn everywhere. 

“Tae-“

“Aha! Here it is. I knew buying it was a good choice!” Taehyung pulls out a bag on a hanger and thrusts it into my arms. 

“Go! Now! This dress will make you and Namjoonie-hyung’s date perfect!” 

I gape like a fish before sputtering “It’s not a date!” 

“Sure it isn’t. Now hurry up! I want to see the full look before you leave!” Taehyung winks then shuts the door on me. 

I’m left standing outside his door like a mom who got kicked out by their teenage son.

“You heard the boy! Go!” Shouts an enthusiastic Hobi from across the hall.

I chuckle and make my way two doors down.

I shut the door (and lock it for good measure) then gingerly unzip the bag. A gasp leaves me. There’s the dress that I found when I went shopping with Taehyung and Jungkook a while ago. The crimson color and gold flowers are still gorgeous, and I can’t wait to slip it on.

I do my hair and makeup first then put on the dress. The sweetheart neckline fits perfectly and I grab my low shimmery heels. I double check that my purse is ready and open my door.

I head downstairs and hear Yoongi whistle and Hobi shout “Looking good Y/n!” 

I scoff but feel myself smile. 

“There we go! Looking fabulous, if I do say so myself,” Taehyung says, taking a photo of me on his phone.

“Tae! Stop!” I say, covering my face. 

“But I have to remember this day!” He pouts, but lowers his phone. 

“He’s right you know,” Jin chimes in from his spot at the table. 

“Ugh Jin not you too!” I groan, lowering myself to put on my shoes.

“Let me.” Taehyung puts them on and it feels like a damn Cinderella moment. 

“Thanks, Tae.” He salutes then goes upstairs to get Namjoon.

“You really do look gorgeous, honey,” Jin says, walking over and fixing my hair before giving me quick kiss on the head.

I flush. 

“Thanks, Jin.” 

“C’mon hyung! Y/n is patiently waiting for you, so the least you can do is hurry up.” Taehyung’s voice is heard from upstairs and is followed by an annoyed Namjoon’s voice.

“I’m coming, Taehyung. You’re the one who made me change my tie!”

Boisterous laughter filters downstairs and Jin and I look at each other, bemused.

They finally come downstairs with Taehyung leading a blindfolded Namjoon.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Namjoon asks after stumbling on a step.

“Yes. We have to do a big reveal!” Taehyung insists.

After reaching the bottom of the stairs (safely) Taehyung gestures for me to come stand in front of Namjoon.

“Three, two, one!” He pulls off the blindfold with a flourish and Namjoon blinks to adjust to the light. 

I stand there awkwardly as Namjoon takes in my outfit. His eyes rove over me and I do the same to him. He always is handsome, but today he looks…hot. Taehyung must have helped him. His button up is now rolled up to his elbows, showing off his arms and his tie matches my dress. His tighter pants accentuate his godly thighs and I can see his arm muscles strain when he moves.

Fuck fuck fuck.

(a/n: namjoon is the reason i got into bts, btw)

“Wow. You look amazing, Y/n,” Namjoon breathes out. 

“So do you. How did you have a tie to match me?” I ask him, noting how the red shade is the exact color of my dress.

“Tae just so happened to have one for me to borrow,” Namjoon says, side eyeing said man. 

“Hey, leave me out of this. You two should get going on your date,” Taehyung says, arms up in fake surrender and backs out of the room, dragging Jin with him.

“It’s not a date!” I hiss at him as he leaves me with yet another wink. 

“I guess that’s our clue to leave?” Namjoon asks, pulling on his shoes, “Seriously, though, Y/n, you look stunning.”

“Aw, thanks Joon,” I say sincerely as we hop into his car. 

(a/n: in this au he can drive, please don’t kill me!!)

We arrive at the venue - a nice building on campus that’s already bustling with people. 

Stepping out, I feel overdressed as most people have on nicer casual clothing like a sundress. 

Namjoon must notice my distress because he says, “You look stunning, Y/n. These poorly dressed people won’t know what hit them.”

I laugh at that and we make our way in. 

They have a small finger food and drinks table to the side so we head over to get some things to munch on. 

“These mini sandwiches are heaven.” I almost moan, sad that there aren’t any left since we took the last ones.

“Here, have mine.” Namjoon offers me his plate and I shake my head. I can’t take his food. 

“No, really. I don’t think I’ll like them and I’d rather have cookies.” He insists so I take them but give him my cookies on my plate. 

“It’s a fair trade,” I say. 

We grab some punch and meander our way through the exhibit. There’s a great variety of paintings ranging from watercolor flowers to abstract Pollock-style art. The artists are all standing by their respective paintings and many are chatting with people. 

Some students also chose to want to sell their art. I can tell who they are because of the star sticker on their description. Their prices are expensive, so I stick to admiring it from afar. 

Namjoon and I are mostly quiet, looking at the different paintings and reading the descriptions. Occasionally we’ll chat with the artist before making our way to the next painting.

“Oh my gosh! I feel like Jin would really like this one,” I say, looking at the painting. It’s a gorgeous garden, and the smooth strokes still manage to have a slight texture to them. 

“Yeah you’re right…I think I’ll buy it for him,” Namjoon says, and I feel a sense of pride at being able to help.

Namjoon talks to the seller and organizes a price. After writing a check, he comes back to admire it with you. 

“Did I ever tell you how we came to all date each other?” Namjoon randomly says.

I turn to him.

“No, but you don’t have to tell me,” I say, wondering where this came from.

“It’s alright. I want to.” 

I look at him as he begins.

“I first met Jimin when I was a sophomore and he was a freshman here. Did you know Jimin’s first major was education?” Namjoon shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. “Yeah. He loved kids, but realized that he loved dance more. We grew close during that year though, and began dating that summer.” 

I’ve always suspected that Namjoon and Jimin have a special bond, and I can totally see Jimin being an amazing teacher. 

(a/n: sorry for another note but teacher!jimin is inspired by sgmb!jimin. i don’t make the rules 🤷🏻‍♀️)

“The next year Jimin began his dance major program and met Hobi-hyung. They bonded over their love of dance and somewhere along the way we became a trio. Jimin was the one who expressed interest in Hobi-hyung first, but I soon followed. We decided to give it a try, and it ended up working out.” 

I take a sip of punch as Namjoon continues.

“Hobi-hyung became interested in Jin-hyung next, and with Jin-hyung came Yoongi-hyung. I don’t remember the exact day, but we all were drunk one night and confused each others’ feelings. You know the saying: drunk words come to mean sober thoughts. We all realized that we liked each other as more than just friends.” 

We continue to stroll slowly down the exhibit.

“There were five of us now in our relationship. It was hard to manage at the beginning, but we fell into a comfortable groove.” 

Namjoon pauses, glancing at me and taking a drink. 

“So only Tae and Jungkook were left, right?” I ask, making sure I got the facts straight.

“Yep. They’re our babies, but it was actually Jimin who found them as well. I guess we should be thanking him for bringing a lot of us together.” Namjoon laughs at that.

“Anyways, Jimin was friends with Taehyung because of a class together and then they got paired up in a project. Jimin fell for Tae and then also Jungkook. The five of us were skeptical about adding more people to our already big relationship, but Jimin was adamant. We trusted him enough to give it a shot, and the rest is history.”

Namjoon finishes and looks at me, smiling as he thinks about his boyfriends.

“That’s such a cute story!” I say, thinking about how they all found each other.

“Thank you, Y/n. You know, at this point, I even think the boys wouldn’t mind if we brought another person into our relationship,” says Namjoon.

I furrow my brows. 

“Really? That would be a lot of people.” I wonder how one could manage that big of a relationship.

“Yeah but if they all like each other then it works, right?” Asks Namjoon.

“I guess so. I don’t really know but I don’t have much experience with a big relationship,” I say, darting my eyes to another painting, “Look at that one! It’s gorgeous, let’s go take a look.” 

I steer Namjoon over and also steer the conversation away from relationships. Why do I feel hot all over?

~

Near the end of the exhibit I see a familiar face.

“Seungmin!” I walk quickly over, Namjoon following me.

“Oh, hey Y/n!” He says, grinning as I come over to where he and a couple others are standing. 

Namjoon quietly clears his throat.

“Oh! Seungmin, this is Namjoon. Namjoon, this is Seungmin. He’s in my Foundations of Education class,” I explain. 

They nod at each other and I swear I see Namjoon’s jaw tick. But it’s just my imagination, right?

Seungmin smiles.

“So, Y/n, if you’re interested in art come take a look at my boyfriend Hyunjin-hyung’s!” 

I look at the painting in front of me and am in awe. It’s gorgeous, the strokes precise yet delicate and it’s walking a nice line between abstract and realistic. 

“Wow. He’s really talented,” I say, Namjoon humming in agreement. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” says a voice behind me. 

I turn and there’s who I assume to be Hyunjin. 

“Of course! I love this style,” I compliment. 

“Hyunjin-hyung is going to be famous someday,” Seungmin boasts, giving the latter a quick peck on the cheek.

“Oh, stop, Seungminnie,” Hyunjin says, but still accepts the kiss.

“No, no, it’s true,” another familiar voice chimes in. Sure enough, there’s Bangchan. 

“Hey Channie-hyung. This is Y/n and Namjoon, her boyfriend!” Seungmin pipes up.

I widen my eyes and go to tell them the truth but Namjoon just sticks his hand out and says, “Pleased to meet you.” 

Well. I guess we’re a couple now.

The five of us talk for a couple minutes and then Namjoon surprises me.

“Hey, Hyunjin, I’m interested in buying this piece of art. What’s your price?” He asks. 

They negotiate and eventually settle on one. Namjoon writes another check and I bid goodbye to Seungmin and his boyfriends.

“Bye Seungmin! See you in class later.” I wave as we walk away. He waves back then turns to his boyfriends.

“He’s seems nice,” Namjoon says, although there’s an underlying tone of something I can’t quite place. Boredom? Anger? Jealousy? 

No. That can’t be right.

“He is. I’m glad he has his boyfriends,” I say, snatching a cheese cube and promptly shoving it in my mouth. Ugh. So good.

“Me too. C’mon, Y/n, I know you’re craving food.” 

Namjoon laughs at my face and I glare at him, but he’s right. Those mini sandwiches can only fill a person up to a certain point.

“Alright fine.” 

I give in and we go to Sonic. Call me crazy but I really wanted a grilled cheese from there.

“What do you want Y/n?” Namjoon asks after he ordered himself.

“A grilled cheese with a large fries and a medium-“

“-cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper,” Namjoon finishes, popping his dimple out at me, “You got it!”

I wonder how he knows my order but guess it’s because I go here so often.

“Hey, let me pay!” I protest, trying to hand Namjoon my credit card.

“No, it’s okay! I took you out to the art exhibit so I need to pay for the whole thing.” He’s already sliding in his card so I sigh. 

“Fine, fine. One of these day you guys have to let me do something to pay you back,” I grumble. 

“Just you is a payment enough.” Namjoon smiles and I roll my eyes. Sure, they always say that but I still want to find someway to pay back their kindness. 

Our food arrives soon after and we munch in the car.

“Ohhhh I love Sonic so much,” I say, stuffed after Namjoon let me have some of his chili cheese fries. 

He laughs while he pulls out. I smack his arm (damn his bicep is huge).

“Okay, okay! Sorry.” 

We laugh together and I close my eyes on the drive back. 

Contentment fills my body and I fall asleep listening to Namjoon softly humming.

a/n: namtiddies for life, am i right? i wanted namjoon to have more time with the mc so i basically dedicated this entire chapter to him haha. hope you enjoyed reading 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[britcision]

Hey guys

I have present for you

Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!

Previous Chapter:

First chapter and AO3 link:

————-

I’ll Take The Highway

Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.

(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)

He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.

If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…

He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?

Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.

But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.

Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.

Jason, the sweet baby ghost.

And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.

Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.

He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.

That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.

Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.

Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.

He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.

“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?

Direct worked best.

It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.

“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.

Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.

Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.

By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.

“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.

Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.

The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.

Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.

Blunt it was gonna have to be.

“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.

Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.

“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.

Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.

“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.

It had been years.

A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.

“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.

Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.

“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.

He looked surprised.

**

Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.

Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.

None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.

It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.

False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.

Bruce would know.

He had copies of the same programs.

They just weren’t running properly.

He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.

And then Constantine was late.

By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.

They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.

He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.

Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.

The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.

Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.

Of course he was with Danny.

Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.

It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.

Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.

**

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

**

Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.

Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.

He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.

Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.

So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.

“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.

She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.

“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.

Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.

Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.

A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?

Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.

Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?

When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.

It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.

Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.

He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.

How much of him was still the boy she’d known?

She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.

And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…

“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.

She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.

“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.

“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”

He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.

Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.

It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.

Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…

Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.

“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”

He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.

“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”

The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.

He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.

He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.

Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.

“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”

He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.

It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.

Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.

“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.

Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.

“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.

“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”

Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.

“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.

Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.

“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.

“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.

“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.

And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.

Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.

“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.

Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.

“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.

Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.

“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.

Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.

“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.

“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.

“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.

Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.

“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.

He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.

Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?

The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.

Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.

Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.

**

Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.

Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.

But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-

“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.

If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.

“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.

At least he wasn’t a complete fool.

Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.

“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”

Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?

Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.

“Harley. It’s important.”

“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.

Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.

What the hell had changed since their last conversation?

Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.

“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.

Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.

More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.

He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.

Did he have time for this?

Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.

Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.

“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.

Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.

“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.

He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.

Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.

Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.

**

Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.

Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.

“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.

They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.

Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.

Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.

“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.

Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.

When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.

Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.

What the hell did the Bat do now?

Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.

Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.

Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.

Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.

Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.

They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.

Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.

Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.

No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.

And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.

This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…

Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.

It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.

“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”

“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.

And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.

Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.

He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.

Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.

“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.

Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.

What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?

Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.

“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.

The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.

Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.

“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”

“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.

A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.

“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”

And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.

It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.

And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?

“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.

Gave John a smug, superior smile.

“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.

“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.

The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.

It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.

And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.

That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.

Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.

Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.

He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.

It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.

Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.

At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.

Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.

Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.

Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.

He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.

Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.

It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.

Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.

That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.

Fuck, did Jason even know?

Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.

“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”

That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.

Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.

He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.

Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.

“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.

John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.

“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”

A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.

Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.

“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.

Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.

“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.

Hysteria beckoned.

Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.

Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.

“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”

Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.

(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)

“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.

Deep breath in. Hold. Out.

One more in. Hold. Out.

He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.

When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.

“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”

He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?

Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.

The Bat would probably come after him.

Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.

Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.

Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.

“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”

Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.

“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”

It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.

He probably could have been nicer, though.

Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.

There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.

If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.

Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.

“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”

Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.

“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”

This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.

He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.

There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.

Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.

John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.

Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.

**

Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.

For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.

Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.

Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.

“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.

She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.

“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”

No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.

From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.

Like that was new.

Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.

“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.

She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.

Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.

He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.

“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”

Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.

“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.

Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.

She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.

Musta run in the family.

Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.

“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.

She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.

Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.

Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.

She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.

“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.

The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.

“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”

Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.

“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”

“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.

Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.

“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.

Harley watched him for a long moment.

He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.

She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.

Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.

“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”

She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.

Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.

Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.

“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”

“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.

Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.

“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”

This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.

Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.

He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.

“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”

That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.

Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.

“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.

She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.

“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”

She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.

He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.

“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”

**

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

**

In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.

If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.

If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.

He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).

The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.

Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.

Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.

But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.

Had he?

All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.

He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.

Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.

Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.

He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.

Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.

There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.

He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.

Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.

“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.

Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.

Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.

Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.

Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.

“Hn.”

The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.

“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”

The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.

“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”

That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.

Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.

Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?

“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.

Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.

“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”

It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.

“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.

Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.

“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”

That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.

Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.

So what changed?

“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”

Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.

Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?

“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.

“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.

Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.

It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.

“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”

And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.

Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.

“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.

Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.

“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”

The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.

The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?

“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.

He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.

Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.

He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.

This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.

Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.

Bruce frowned and moved to block him.

“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.

Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.

“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”

He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.

Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.

None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.

“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.

“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.

Shit.

Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.

Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.

Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.

Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.

He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.

Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.

The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.

Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…

Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.

And.

Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.

Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.

Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.

The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…

But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.

At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.

Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.

He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.

(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)

He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.

The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.

Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.

Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.

He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.

Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.

The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.

And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.

Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.

There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.

Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.

Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.

Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.

Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.

They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.

They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.

The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.

Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.

The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.

As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.

It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.

The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.

A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.

And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.

Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.

Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.

Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.

He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.

The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.

Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.

He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.

A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.

Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.

“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”

—————————

😈

Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter

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Next chapter!

[revehae]

I'm sorry but them nct members had to have known and either didn't gaf or just turned the other way and continued to be friends with this man until his ass got caught so they had to drop.him. I'm so angry.

being wary is valid and i’m not saying none of them knew - i definitely think they all need to be looked into because one bad apple truly does spoil the whole bunch - but i’m also not going to assume that they knew or were complicit in it. it’s definitely not impossible. i’ve been in situations where i’ve grown up around people or known people for years and yet i never realized they were predators until their victims came forward. i know people who have been in this situation as well.

one of the most important things i tell people about abusers is that is that they are not abusive 24/7. sure, it’s who they are at their core, but it’s dangerous to have the mindset that someone is always abusive. this is literally a classic example of why victims go back to their abuser. the story goes like this: he hit you tuesday, wednesday he was nice and apologized, thursday he bought you flowers and a nice meal, sunday he hit you again, next morning he apologizes, and the cycle repeats.

this doesn’t even apply solely to physical, domestic, or sexual abuse. here’s another example. growing up, my mom and i never had the best relationship with each other. i’ve tried to cut her some slack because it’s difficult being a single mom, but many times she was physically and verbally abusive, manipulative, and overall unbearable. sometimes when i was a teenager, i would get so upset with her that i would constantly think about leaving and never speaking to her again. i wanted nothing to do with her. the resentment i nursed for her would fester year by year and i rightfully felt wronged for how she treated me. but then, there were some days, not many but a few, where she was nice. where i could talk and laugh with her. where i would buy her things and feel safe and comfortable. for a moment, the resentment i harbored would disappear. i would forget how incompetent, manipulative, and neglectful she could be, and i thought to myself, maybe she’s not so bad. but you know what would always happen? she would default back to her ways, and the indignation would return just as quickly.

my point is that abusers are not always in a state of violence and fucked up shit in general. this is why you always have that one person going, “but he never hit me!” trust me, they know how to hide how sick they are. they know what they do is wrong and they know that unless they put up this facade of innocence, they will be seen for who they really are. once again, i am not saying that no one knew. but i think the most important thing is to focus on what we know for a fact is true.