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#is she blaming carter?
meljwrites · 3 months
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Misbah acknowledges that Lucas went through a traumatic experience but it seems like she's weaponizing that against him and Dillon.
I mean, she's mostly pointing out that that trauma manifested in both self harm and violence - and a lot of things she doesnt even know about - and doesn't want dillon to be put at risk of any of that again. I think she probably feels guilty that she couldn't protect him from that and she's trying to now but it's too late because hayray are stubborn teenage boys who are in love with each other.
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jellovella · 2 months
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wanted to do something with these colors so i used it as an excuse to draw dana scully
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jazzkrebber · 1 year
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I love thinking about how both Jesper and Kaz look completely different from other people's povs (Jesper like a flirty sharpshooter and Kaz like the guy with the plan), whereas when you get into their heads all they're thinking about is their love interests
meanwhile there's Matthias who's so incredibly bad at hiding how he feels about Nina, everybody knew exactly how he felt on the inside because it's what he showed on the outside
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still thinking about how sadie passed cleopatra's needle every day, never knowing it was the place her mum died.
maybe she's walking home from school. tired of feeling different. tired of grieving. she stops and sits by the obelisk. sits in the exact spot her mum died.
it feels like death.
dizzy. sick. suffocating.
the world is collapsing.
then it passes. just like the rain clouds overhead.
a warm wind surrounds her. shields her.
like a summer breeze. like a supportive hand on her shoulder. like a hug from her mum.
it feels like life.
she walks on. and she never knows why.
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alisonfelixwrites · 5 months
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the deal - part 1/3 (*) [harry styles au]
//
part two, part three.
summary: in which harry & claire are both single parents and their kids are best friends in school. atlas & finn are six years old and want to hang out all the time even if their parents don't get along .... at first.
word count: 23,973
content warning: smut!! (not too much for my standards lol). mentions of drug use, single parenthood with neglect from the other parent, mentions of physical/emotional abuse
this one is also already on my wp (to be found under 'muse')!! but she deserved her own moment on tumblr because this is one of my faves ❤️
//
“Oh my god.” The voice of a distressed woman behind the wheel sounded through the car.
Claire pressed her hand down on the honk once more, “Fucking move!” She roared before swerving to the side, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The many curse words easily tumbled from her dry lips as she made her way through a part of town she hadn’t often driven through.
Her old Toyota stood out like a sore thumb between all the fancy cars of the fancy people who resided here in these fancy homes. She was sure that if they took one look at her, her Burger King outfit would stand out too against the bright blue of her old car.
“Why the fuck do you drive a Tesla when you don’t even know how to use it!” Claire continued shouting, making hand gestures to the other drivers. An elderly woman driving a BMW gave her a disgusted look and Claire simply rolled her eyes, speeding off now that the intersection had finally cleared a bit.
Her heart was hammering in her throat and her hands were tightly clamped around the wheel. With her cap still on her head, Claire hadn’t had the time to get changed once she noticed the many missed calls on her phone. She simply jumped into her car after her shift and drove like a maniac to try and keep the damage to a minimum.
Waze finally showed the place she had to be at, and she came to a screeching halt before clumsily driving up a massive driveway which held a Land Rover and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Claire jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door, completely out of breath.
Jamming her finger on the doorbell over and over again, she noticed a set of lights being turned on in the hallway before the door was yanked open.
“I’m so sorry!” She immediately blurted out, being met with a man who shot her an angry and very judging glare. Claire couldn’t blame him. She had fucked up.
He towered over her, blocking the doorway to his house as Claire shifted on her feet. He took a quick glance at her outfit, “I take it you’re Claire Carter?”
“Yes.” She breathed, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry I’m so late.” She palmed her forehead, fatigue taking over. Her entire body ached after standing on her feet for so many hours, faking polite smiles at the customers who did nothing but treat her like shit. She reeked of fries and couldn’t wait to take a shower.
The man in front of her wore joggers and a casual, white shirt. He had a clip holding his brown hair away and some scruff on his jaw. The judging look he sent her made Claire wish the ground could swallow her whole. He eventually exhaled, “You’re the one who forgot her child at school?” The snide tone of his voice made Claire press her lips together.
She lowered her eyes and swallowed, “Look, I’m just here to pick up Atlas.” Her voice was softer now, “Where is he?”
“Inside.” The man nudged his head inside his house, “Playing with my boy.”
Claire nodded, “Right. You’re Finn’s dad, aren’t you? Atlas talks about him a lot."
“Yeah.”
Silence took over and Claire glanced into the hallway behind him, “So… Can you tell him I’m here? Or can I come in?” A hint of impatience laced her voice. It was already late and Claire knew the never ending amount of chores that were waiting for her at home. Not to mention she had to get Atlas to bed on time to not disrupt their entire weekend schedule.
“He’s a good kid, you know?” The man spoke, snapping Claire out of her thoughts. She flicked her eyes up at him before frowning softly, “I’m aware. I’m raising him.”
“No, like… He’s a good kid. Teacher was raving about him. I went in to pick up Finn and they were the only two left. The teacher was about ready to leave and she couldn’t reach you. She was about to call the police.”
Claire’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of pink as she swallowed. She was being lectured by this man, who clearly judged her for not being a decent parent and forgetting to pick up her child after school. Claire’s stomach turned, knowing full well she already wasn’t making a good impression with the people of Atlas’ new school. She was hardly ever there to drop him off or pick him up and had a sitter do those things. She had never even met most of the teachers or the other parents, which was very frowned upon at that school.
“I’d like to take him home now.” Claire repeated, her voice a little hoarse, “It’s late.”
“Wonder why.” He scoffed before sighing and turning around, “Finn!” He yelled into the house. Claire felt her bottom lip wobbling, attempting to recompose herself before the sheer look of disgust of this man brought her to tears.
She soon heard little footsteps running over the wooden floors of the house, which honestly was more of a mansion. Even when Claire felt like shit, the sight of her little boy with his shaggy blonde hair, cheered her up immediately. With a wide grin on her face, she crouched down, opening up her arms for him to jump into her.
“Hi, baby!” Claire squeaked, spinning him around as Atlas clung to her. He had some sort of stain on his shirt but Claire didn’t mind, holding his body close to hers. “Hi, mummy! I missed you today.” Atlas bubbled in response. Claire hummed before putting him down, already feeling the massive ache in her back, “I know, I missed you too.”
Her eyes then flicked to the boy standing in the doorway too, his dad having a protective hand on the top of his back. “Hi.” Claire smiled, holding out her hand, “You must be Finn.”
“Yes.” He timidly spoke, offering her a small smile. He shook her hand with little enthusiasm, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”
“Yeah, ‘m Claire.” She smiled back before straightening up, “Well, thank you again. We should get going.”
“That your car?” Finn’s father nudged his head towards the blue Toyota and Claire exhaled, “Yes.”
“Hm.”
She refrained from rolling her eyes, “Have a good night.” She mumbled, not even waiting for his response. Atlas shouted a goodbye to Finn, waving excitedly before climbing into the passenger seat of the car. Claire checked her mirrors, avoiding the shocked eyes at all costs that her kid was getting in the front seat of the car.
Claire being the responsible parent she was couldn’t afford to fix the broken safety belts of the backseat, so Atlas drove up front with her. Backing out of the long driveway, she watched Finn and his father disappear back inside of the huge house.
“’M sorry, baby. Mum had to work late.” Claire yawned softly as they hit traffic again to drive home, “Did you have fun with your friend?”
“Yes, Finn’s really nice. A little quiet.” Atlas spoke. Claire hummed, “Are you hungry?”
“No! Harry made us dinner.”
“Harry.” Claire nodded, “That Finn’s dad?”
“Yes. He’s nice.”
Claire huffed and took a left, “Debatable.” She mumbled under her breath, not for Atlas to hear. The rest of the car ride was filled with Atlas’ babbles that Claire honestly loved. He spoke about nothing important most of the time but she loved hearing his voice and the way he saw the world, what observations he made. In her mind, she was already thinking about tomorrow though.
She had the Saturday-shift to cover too, so Atlas was spending the day with his father. The thought alone made Claire’s stomach clench but she tried to push it away. He deserved a shot at two parents and perhaps Evan really did deserve another chance to prove himself as a father.
The heavy door to the appartement hardly budged as Claire put her entire weight against it to open it up. The entire building shook as she did so, and she could tell the neighbours were listening to the news through the thin walls of this crappy building.
No one ever said it was this hard to be an uneducated, unsupported single mum.
With a heavy sigh, Claire ran her fingers through Atlas’ blonde whisps as he excitedly walked into their home. As always, both kicked off their shoes by the door and headed through the narrow hallway – passing both their bedrooms – towards the living area. Pizza boxes were on the counter from last night and Claire was glad Atlas had already eaten at his friend’s house because in all her haste, she even forgot to pick up groceries.
Ignoring the rumbling of her own stomach, she decided on a quick shower to feel fresh and clean again before snuggling up on the couch with Atlas to watch some of his favourite shows. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, refusing to go to sleep before her six year-old did.
Life was pathetic enough as it was.
She couldn’t shake the look of absolute judgement and despise she had received from Harry. Yes, she had forgotten to pick up her child after school. Yes, she had driven like a maniac and showed up at his door dressed in her Burger King outfit, hours late. Yes, they had been close on calling the cops on her.
But that didn’t make her a bad mother.
Claire sighed, gently stroking her fingers over Atlas’ forehead as he sucked on his thumb. It was a habit she tried to get him to shake, but simply didn’t have the energy to constantly point it out to him. He was too old to still be doing that, but part of Claire knew that even Atlas was traumatized from the shit he had witnessed as a baby and an infant.
It had taken Claire two years to get away from Evan and the past four years had been hell. And bliss at the same time.
She didn’t think she’d be a single mum at twenty-eight, making ends meet and having no savings to start something up. But Atlas was kind, fun and energetic. Now that he was a bit older, it was like having a mini-me. She could always talk to him and he was intelligent for his age, following along easily in the topics Claire spoke to him about. He was respectful albeit a little wild at certain times.
In his previous school they had called him a ‘wild child’ who ‘acted out because of the way his mother raised him’. Simply because he had learned the word ‘fuck’ from Claire and had yelled it out in class.
Once.
Claire thought she’d be done with the judgement, but after only a few weeks in his new school she could already sense it again. If not from the teachers, then definitely from the other parents. She was happy Atlas made friends so easily and that he was such an open, approachable kid, but she could really do without the critiques of the others.
It was on Monday that she saw Harry again.
After much whining from Atlas, Claire decided to drop him off at school herself for the first time. Along with all the other parents in line, she was crouched down in front of him to make sure everything was in his backpack for the day. She was parked with one wheel on the curb in front of a garage, so she really didn’t have much time.
Glancing around to check for police in the street, Claire hurried up and stuffed everything in his backpack, “There, you’ve got everything.”
“Thank you, mummy.” Atlas grinned. A dimple popped in his cheek, one of the things he inherited from Evan. Claire’s stomach turned at the memory. Another memory was the ache in her arm from the bruise she had there. A much more recent memory, from picking up Atlas on Saturday.
She wasn’t sure who had reacted worse to her being late for pick-up. Harry, who had stared her down and made her feel insignificant, or Evan, who had grabbed her and shoved her against the wall while yelling in her face.
“Good boy.” Claire proudly smiled, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You be good today, hm? Belle will be here to pick you up after school.”
Atlas’ face dropped, “Belle?” He pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, “Why not you?”
“I have to work, honey.” Claire sighed, “But I’ll be home for dinner.”
“But I don’t like Belle.” Atlas whined, “She stinks.”
Claire could feel a few pairs of eyes on her and rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Well, that’s because she smokes so much. But I have to work, I’ve explained this to you.” Claire kept her voice down but Atlas whined louder, jutting out his lip, “But mummy!”
“Atlas.” Claire sternly whispered, shaking her head to him, “I’ll see you for dinner, end of discussion.”
He stared at the ground with a thick frown in his forehead, refusing to look at her, “Fuck.” He whispered.
Claire’s eyes widened, “Atlas! No,” She held up her finger, “you promised me you’d never say it again.” Her cheeks flamed up as the parents next to her had definitely heard that. Atlas shrugged while staring at the tips of his worn-out sneakers, “You say it all the time.”
“I’m an adult.” Claire sighed before scratching above her brow. Her hair was in a low bun and she wore jeans and a large hoodie, “Look, just go inside, hm? Class is about to begin, don’t want you to be late.”
Atlas didn’t look at her anymore, simply turned around and walked off. A lump formed in Claire’s throat as she watched him, and her hands fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper, “I love you! Have a good day!” She called after him, but he didn’t react. Exhaling a shaky breath, Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hi!” She heard the voice from next to her, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”
Claire forced a smile, staring at the perfectly done make-up of one of the mums next to her, “Hi.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Claire. Nice to mee you.”
“Hi, I’m Dolores.” The woman smiled back with her pearly white teeth, “One of my girls is in Atlas’ class. Betty.”
“Oh,” Claire raised her brows, “yeah, I think Atlas has mentioned her.”
Another mum joined the conversation, “So you’re Atlas’ mum, hm? We all thought it was that gothic sixteen year old.” She laughed, referring to Belle and her dark make-up and black clothes. Claire pressed her lips together, “No, that’s just his sitter. She lives in the building with us, so it’s easy.”
“Hm.” The third woman simply nodded, “Well, me and Dolores are off to have some coffee. Would you care to join?”
Claire forced a smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get to work. It was nice to meet you.” She shot an awkward wave and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks when she near bumped into Harry. Claire was only eye level with his chest and shortly looked up, sending him a nod, “Hi.” She went to stride past him but Harry stopped her, turning around with her, “Nice outfit.”
She could hear the judgement in his voice and rolled her eyes before turning to face him, “Look, I could really do without all those comments of yours. I thanked you for looking after Atlas on Friday, there’s really no need for you to behave like that.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. Harry wore a loose, grey cable knit jumper and some blue jeans that hung loosely around his legs. His hair was back in that little clip to keep it away.
The other mums were out of earshot and Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Claire, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She stood her ground although her voice wavered, “I know you think you’re better than me. And you probably are. Sue me for working a lot so I can provide for my kid. Sometimes it happens that I lose track of time or that I cover a shift. ” She bit before turning around and stomping off.
Harry watched her, scoffing under his breath. His eyes lingered as the blonde walked up to her horribly parked car, near flipping of another driver who honked at her for crossing randomly. The car moved from how harshly she slammed the door shut before she drove off. He shook his head to himself. That reckless driving with a six year-old next to her was dangerous.
He turned back with his hands in his pockets, feeling the eyes of the other mums on him. Harry was basically the only father who made it to drop-off moments. It caused most of the other mums to shoot their shot somehow and flirt with him, which he always rolled his eyes at.
He shot Finn one last wave, watching as he hurried up to walk next to Atlas. Both immediately broke out into a grin and Harry sighed, part of him wishing Finn could’ve found another friend in class. Finn was a little quiet and timid, which is why it surprised Harry that he gravitated towards someone as loud and extraverted as Atlas.
Before Atlas transferred schools, Finn never really mentioned many of his classmates. He often played by himself and never asked to invite anyone over for a playdate. Ever since a few weeks, he talked about Atlas all the time.
So when Harry saw the little blonde boy, waiting for his mum who had promised to pick him up, he took it upon himself to take him home and care for him until they got a hold of one of his parents. He had overheard the teachers talking about it, and only one name was on the call sheet.
Claire Carter.
A blonde-haired hurricane who showed up at his door by the time it was dark. The muted brown of her Burger King-outfit didn’t fit her or compliment her in any way. Even from the distance, Harry could see the fire in her eyes, hidden by a lot of fatigue.
But he didn’t really care in that moment. She had put her child in danger, and Harry could never imagine forgetting to pick up Finn from school or not notifying the teacher. He simply couldn’t understand how that happened.
He wasn’t able to keep his snide remarks down, somehow feeling so frustrated with her that she was so casual about fucking forgetting her child.
But he had quickly developed a soft spot for Atlas. Partly because he was making feel Finn so at ease, and partly because he was just a funny, goofy and playful kid. Harry had overheard them as they played together, and he constantly asked Finn questions. Asking how he was doing, asking if he felt okay, asking if he had a good day at school. It was gentle and caring.
Until he had heard Atlas slipping in a curse word and Harry’s eyes had widened tremendously.
After meeting his mum, he wasn’t really all that surprised anymore.
***
“Booze?” Harry frowned as Claire handed him the bottle of scotch.
She sheepishly shrugged, “You don’t drink?”
“Uh – no, I do.” Harry breathed, eyeing the label and seeing some knock-off version of cheap scotch. He cleared his throat, “’S just a bit of a weird gift to thank someone for looking after your kid.”
“Well, I didn’t know what to get you. Don’t think you need another stick to push up your ass.” Claire muttered and Harry glared at her, “Anything else?”
They were back in the same position. Claire was on the grass in front of Harry’s house as he stood in the doorway after Finn and Atlas ran inside. It was a Saturday and even though Claire had felt excited about spending a day with Atlas, he had asked her for a playdate with Finn.
And so here she was, dropping him off at his best friend’s house.
“No.” She breathed, “Not really. You’re just going to text me if I can come pick him up?”
Harry nodded, “Sure. Any allergies or something I need to be aware of for lunch?”
“No, he’s all good. Not a big fan of spinach if you were considering that.” Claire informed him. Harry softly nodded, “Fine then, bye.” He closed the door and Claire huffed, shaking her head. She hoped for Atlas’ sake that Finn wasn’t as much of a bitch as his father.
But disaster struck the moment Claire got in her car and tried to start it, only for her car the make the most pathetic noise and shut down.
“No.” She groaned, “God, please, no.” She tried again, jamming her key in it only to receive no response. Claire sat in the driver’s seat for a good ten minutes, simply refusing to get out and knock on Harry’s door again to ask him for help. She refused. Stubbornly, she sat in the seat until she got too bored and
Finally pushing her pride aside, she got out of the car in the scorching sun. Her arms crossed in front of her, she sighed while ringing Harry’s door again. He opened up with that same frown, “Forgot something?”
“I never left.” Claire deadpanned, “My car’s dead. Won’t start. Can I come inside to call a mechanic? It’s boiling.”
“I can feel that. ‘S like an oven.” Harry glanced outside before opening up the door wider, “Fine, come in.”
“Thank you.” She breathed. Harry cringed at her sandy shoes as she strolled through his hallway and straight into the kitchen like she had been here a billion times before. “Where are the kids?” She questioned while sitting down on a barstool.
“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you.” Harry sarcastically spoke before leaning against the counter, “Upstairs. Finn’s got a playroom.”
“A playroom.” Claire nodded while scrolling her phone while searching for a mechanic, “Fancy.”
“Had to do something with my ex’s empty art studio.”
The comment made Claire flick her eyes up. Harry was staring out the window with his arms crossed. The stubble was more prominent now than a week before and the sun coming through definitely accentuated his prominent jaw and the shape of his lips. Claire put her phone down as she leaned her arms on the countertop, “Want to talk about it?”
Harry huffed softly, “No. Did you find a mechanic yet?”
“Do you know anyone in this neighbourhood? That I can like… afford.” Claire muttered the last part and Harry pressed his lips together, “Yeah, I’ll call my car guy. Don’t have to worry about money.”
“Your car guy?”
“Mhm.” Harry was on his phone, a concentrated frown on his forehead. Claire tilted her head to the side, “That’s… I mean, how often do you need a car guy?”
“Just sometimes.” Harry shrugged, “The old beetle outside gives up every once in a while. I call him and he comes here, it’s easy.”
“Both cars are yours?” Claire asked in clarification, and Harry hummed, “Yes.”
“Wow.” She mumbled, nodding to herself, “Must be nice.”
Harry rolled his eyes at her remark and then called his car guy, sharing a few quick words with him before hanging up again, “He’ll be here soon.”
Claire nodded, “Don’t you have jumper cables?”
“No, my car guy does.”
“Right.” She breathed. They were left in silence for a bit as the coffee was running. Harry hadn’t asked her if she wanted any, but poured her a cup either way and Claire didn’t complain. The longer the silence lasted, the more comfortable it became as both scrolled on their phones for a bit, the occasional sigh coming from Harry’s mouth.
Giggles and small feet carried themselves through the hallway.
“Daddy!!” Finn bubbled as both him and Atlas ran into the kitchen. Harry’s brows raised at the sight of his son, “Bub, where’s your shirt?”
“Atlas and I want to swim!” He ignored the question and Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now?”
Atlas excitedly jumped, “Swim!”
“Atlas.” Claire chuckled while shaking her head, “You don’t know how to swim.”
Harry flicked his eyes to hers, “He can’t swim?” And Claire shook her head, “No, he hasn’t been taught yet.”
“Hm.” Harry exhaled, “Uh – well, I have floaties. Finn, you should use them too.”
“But, daddy!” The boy whined, “I can swim!” He stomped his foot down and Harry huffed, “In a kiddie pool. Not in a pool this deep.”
Finn pouted and Claire fought her smile at how adorable he looked, “But, daddy…” He tried again, “you always come in the pool with me and swim with me and throw me around and then save me.” He explained. Claire’s lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, do you?” She flicked her eyes to Harry who scoffed slightly before crouching down to Finn’s level, “Buddy, I have to fix something with Atlas’ mum’s car, so I can’t come in the pool right now. Besides, I have some work to do in the office. I thought you guys would be nice and quiet for me today?”
“We can be quiet in the pool.” Atlas butted in and Harry shook his head, “It’s gonna be a no. I can’t supervise when you guys are in the pool and it’s too dangerous.”
“Mummy,” Atlas whispered, tugging on Claire’s sleeve. She turned to face him as Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, who couldn’t hide the disappointment for the life of him.
“Yes?” She smiled at Atlas, who nibbled his lip a little, “Why don’t we have a pool?”
Claire took a breath, “Because we live in an apartment.”
“Yeah.” Atlas lowered his eyes, “But I like being outside. Finn has a very big garden to play in.”
Claire’s heart clenched as she exhaled before pressing her lips together. Atlas looked at her with big, green eyes, expecting an answer she couldn’t give him. Claire couldn’t tell him she also really wanted a house with a garden and a pool and a dog, giving Atlas the room he craved to play and be wild. He had a lot of energy and no real way to get rid of that in their small, dingy apartment.
Harry saved her though, clearing his throat, “Atlas, you can borrow swimming trunks from Finn. You guys get in the pool for a while once I grab the floaties.” The cheers sounded loudly through the room even though Harry wasn’t finished yet, “Only for a little while!” He held his finger up, “I have to work!”
Before the final word had left his lips, Finn and Atlas had bolted out of the room and back up the stairs and Harry let out a sigh, checking his watch. Claire followed his gaze, noticing his bony fingers tapping on the countertop in thought. The veins wrapping around his arm led her eyes up to the tattoos on his skin.
“I can stay too.” She offered, taking a sip of her coffee.
Harry seemed snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”
Claire cleared her throat, “I can stay too. You said you need to get work done and I have a free day. I can stay by the pool with the boys. I don’t mind, if you don’t have the time for it.”
“I want to have the time for it.” Harry clarified and Claire nodded, “I know. But it’s fine if you don’t. You can’t have time for everything.”
Harry scratched his jaw in thought, “I don’t have like bathing suits here. Astrid took all her stuff.”
Astrid.
Claire shrugged, “I’m wearing black underwear. Decent enough, not like… a thong or anything.” She mumbled. Harry fought the flaming of his cheeks before huffing out a chuckle, “Or you could stay by the edge and just put your legs in.”
“Atlas doesn’t know how to swim. Floaties or not, I’m getting in the water with him.” Claire frowned.
Harry sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I mean – uh… If you don’t mind? I really have a project to finish today, I have to meet the deadline or I’m losing this client.”
“What is it that you do exactly?”
“I’m an architect.” Harry mumbled, clearly still lost in thought at Claire’s offer. He nibbled his lip as she nodded, digesting the information. It made sense. Harry worked from home and on his own schedule, which meant he was free to drop Finn off and pick him up from school all the time.
“And you didn’t have any other plans today? On your free day?”
Claire let out a breath, “I – uh… Seeing as Atlas asked for this playdate, I actually planned an actual date this afternoon.” She tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes at her screen, “But judging by this guy’s texts… he’s about to cancel on me either way so, yeah.” She sighed and put her phone back down, forcing Harry a small smile.
He whistled teasingly, “A date, hm? Spicy.”
“Not all of us are a hundred years old.” She rolled her eyes and Harry huffed out a laugh, “How old do you think I am, Claire?” The playfulness in his tone was something Claire wasn’t used to from him. The Harry she had seen so far in their previous encounters, was uptight and moody. His dimple popped in his left cheek as he smirked slightly.
She faked a small smile back, “Considering your gigantic frown lines, I’d say nearing your forties.”
“Ouch.” Harry placed his hand on his chest, “You wound me. Thirty-four, actually, but thanks. I’ll make some changes to my skincare routine. Noted.”
Claire giggled and shook her head, “I was kidding.”
“Funny girl, aren’t you?”
Claire flicked her eyes up, sensing a shift in Harry’s tone. He had lose the tension in his shoulders, softly smirking at her now from the opposite side of the kitchen as he leaned against the countertop. She lowered her eyes again and Harry cleared his throat, “So, going on a date, hm? First date?”
“Yes.” Claire breathed, “First and last date, which is how it usually goes.”
“Why?”
“Oh, you know,” She shrugged, her fingers toying together, “I show up in a pretty dress and flirt and play them a little. It’s all fun and games in the beginning until the real conversations start and it comes up that I’m a mother, raising Atlas by myself.”
Harry slowly nodded and Claire smiled, “You know, they’re usually fine with me having a son. Like, that’s alright mostly. But once they realize I don’t have a week-week schedule with my ex and actually have Atlas near every day, that’s where they draw the line. Like they don’t want to share.” She shrugged, “So that’s where it ends. I’m lucky if I can get some decent sex out of it. Which doesn’t happen often.”
Harry sputtered out a laugh at her bluntness before shaking his head to himself, “Wow. Yeah, I see why it sticks to one date. I could never be with someone who doesn’t appreciate Finn or doesn’t want to spend time with him.”
“It’s a package deal.”
He nodded in agreement, “Sure is.”
Claire leaned her elbow on the countertop and stared at him, “How about you?”
“Me?” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. Eternal bachelor.”
She frowned while smiling, “I don’t believe that for a second. I know I’ve only been there to drop off Atlas once, but I could see all those soccer moms making eyes at you.”
“They’re all married.” He rolled his eyes, “And not my type.”
“Rich and beautiful is not your type?” Claire chuckled and Harry shrugged, “Apparently not.”
Silence fell over them again until Harry took a breath, “I’m gonna head up to the office. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or anything. There’s sunscreen in the bathroom and obviously the pool is outside. I’ll go grab the floaties from Finn’s room.”
“Yeah, okay.” Claire nodded. She checked her phone again, just seeing the message come in of her date, cancelling on her and asking to reschedule. She puckered her lips, remembering how he was some hot shot at an up and coming lawyer firm. She didn’t exactly expect him to have time for her on a Saturday.
With Harry’s footsteps heading up the stairs, Claire slowly got up from her barstool and roamed the kitchen. She stared out the window, seeing the pale blue pool in the large garden. It looked inviting, she had to admit. Even if it was nearing the end of September, it was exceptionally warm.
The house felt silent with both boys and Harry upstairs, and Claire’s feet took her to the crispy white living room. Every piece of furniture here looked like it was made by designers and she was nearly scared to touch anything. There weren’t much toys here and then Claire remembered Finn having a playroom upstairs.
As her eyes darted over the pictures on the wall, they stayed put on the brunette in some of the frames. There were about two of her and a younger Finn. The other ones were of Harry and Finn, or a standalone Finn.
Claire figured it was Astrid, Harry’s ex. She was beautiful, obviously. Looking at Finn, he was a gorgeous little boy with obvious great genes.
Just a few minutes later, Claire was outside with both excited boys. Finn and Atlas were around the same size, with Atlas just being a tad taller. Both wore little swimming trunks with either ducks or boats on them and stood perfectly still as Claire put sunscreen on them.
She didn’t see Harry staring at them from the window above. His laptop was open and he was drawing, he really was. Or he tried to. But he stood against the windowsill up on the first floor, staring down the length of his garden. The water of the pool looked inviting and he could see Finn’s wide grin from a mile away.
Claire grinned too, her blonde hair pinned back now with one of Harry’s ballpoints holding it together. It was inventive, he had to give her that. Her hands smoothed over Finn’s back to put the product on him before she gently slid the floaties around the boy’s arms. They both patiently waited at the edge of the pool, excited to jump in.
Harry’s leg twitched a little when his eyes were on her. She kicked off her shoes, a pair of mom jeans on her legs that she popped. The dryness in his throat once she slid the pants down her legs, was something Harry didn’t anticipate. Black underwear was revealed. Simple cotton with just a small lace border.
Harry thanked his impeccable eyesight to see every detail of Claire from a distance. She was shaped beautifully, with curvy thighs and a dip in her waist which was revealed as she lifted the navy top over her head to reveal an equally black bra.
He saw hints of a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but Claire moved too quickly for Harry to notice it. Urging the boys to get in the pool, she elegantly got in with them.
A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips as he watched the first few minutes of their playing. Atlas and Finn mostly splashed around, ruining Claire’s plans to keep her hair dry. She tossed the ballpen to the side, ducking underneath the water to get in all the way.
She played with Atlas a bit, and Finn too. He laughed loudly as Claire threw him around a little bit, playing gently with him. They did a bit of a race where she purposely let him win while Atlas splashed a little more, without his swimming experience.
It was hours later, when Claire was fresh out of the pool and drying on the sunbed – with both boys running around the garden and giggling – that she felt a towel being dropped on her stomach. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she squinted, Harry blocking the sunlight a little, “Hi.” He chuckled.
“Oh, hi.” She smiled, sitting up a bit and grabbing the towel, “Thank you.”
“’S fine.” His eyes glanced around the garden, “Did they have fun?”
Claire wrapped the towel around her to dry off, “Yeah. I don’t understand how they’ve got so much energy left, even I need a nap. Two is too much.”
“I’ve honestly never seen Finn this loud.” Harry smiled as his son ran through the garden with Atlas chasing him, “They’re pretty good friends.”
“They are.” Claire smiled as she followed his gaze, “Infectuous, really.”
“They didn’t give you too hard of a time?”
“Not at all. Finn’s a sweet a boy.”
Harry smiled as he nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants, “He is.”
“How about you? Finished your project?”
“Yep.” Harry stretched his arms now, yawning a little, “I need a nap too.” He joked.
Claire got up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the towel around her form as she took a few steps closer to Harry. He involuntary took a few back, but she was still close enough that he could see the freckles on her nose and the remains of an old scar above her brow.
“What are you doing?” He spoke in a strained voice, taking a few steps back still to create some distance. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat when Claire just continued to step closer to him. “Claire.” He pushed.
“You know what’s a great substitute for a nap?” She purred, daring to take another step closer to him. She could inhale his perfume and Harry held his breath when she batted her lashes. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”
“A dip in the water.” She smiled, using a hand that she placed against his covered chest to give him a shove back. Harry’s eyes widened as he lost his balance, “Wh- Wait!” He yelped, reaching his arm out. Claire laughed, hardly caring that Harry managed to take a hold of her wrist and pull her in. Unlike him – who made a gigantic splash as he tumbled down – Claire managed to get in a dive and dip in elegantly.
The coolness of the water did wake Harry up immediately and he sputtered out as he reached the surface, shaking his hair out with his clothes completely soaked. Claire was laughing as she quickly took the towel to throw it on the grass and get it out of the water.
“Oh my god!” Harry laughed, splashing water at Claire, who giggled. Harry flicked his eyes to their two boys who seemed unaware, chuckling as he shook his head, “You dick.”
Claire gasped in fake shock, “Are you cursing?”
Harry rolled his eyes as he swam back over to the side, pushing himself out of the pool. Claire was mesmerized for a second, watching the way his shirt clung to him. The muscles in his back bulged as he pushed himself up, showing off every ridge.
“Shit.” Harry chuckled, opening up the buttons of his shirt, “I can’t believe you pushed me in the pool. What are you, six?”
Claire grinned and also got out of the water, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she wrung out her hair, “No, twenty-eight.”
“You wouldn’t say.”
Claire stuck out her tongue and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Brat.” He scoffed, “’M gonna grab towels.” He turned around to head into the house, his pants soaking wet and his shirt off. The light reflected off his muscular back and Claire near drooled. Harry handed her another fluffy towel and both sat down on the sunbed.
“So around what time are you going to offer me a drink?” Claire teased and Harry hummed, “I don’t drink around Finn.”
“Well, ‘m not gonna get blind drunk but I wouldn’t say no to some pink wine.”
“Yeah, not blind drunk, just…” He shrugged, “I don’t want to give the wrong example.”
Claire leaned back on her hands, letting herself dry in the heat of the burning sun, “Having a drink every once in a while isn’t setting the wrong example, Harry. You’re an adult.” She shrugged, “I mean, it’s your own decision obviously, but it’s impossible to be responsible all the time around your child.”
“Responsible…” Harry mused, “Like remembering to pick them up from school?”
“Dick.” Claire chuckled, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Harry grinned, staring at the pool as the boys played still. Harry had changed out of his pants and put on some swimming trunks this time, in case Claire decided to shove him in the pool again. His hair was wet and dripping down his back, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.
“Thank you again for that. Work just got… in the way.”
Harry turned his head to the side to watch her, “Don’t have to thank me again, that’s not why I said it. Was just making a joke.”
“I know.”
“You work a lot, don’t you? At Burger King?”
Claire exhaled a breath, “It’s not the most glamorous job and it doesn’t pay that much. But yes, I work a lot. I take a lot of shifts and often work weekends or late nights.”
“Is Atlas by himself when you work?”
“No,” Claire breathed, “I’m not that terrible of a mum.” Her voice held a hint of bitterness and she pressed her lips together, “There’s a young girl in my building who babysits for him. She’s like… seventeen maybe and she dropped out of school. She’s always available. The other mums said they’d seen her around to pick him up sometimes.”
“Oh, yeah…” Harry nodded, “like dark make-up, black hair?”
“Mhm, that’s Belle.”
“Isn’t it like… counter-productive? You have to pay her and then work while having to do so…”
“I earn more than whatever I have to pay her.” Claire mumbled, “Like I said, she’s not that expensive. I keep more than I have to give her.”
Harry nodded, “Right.” There was silence for a moment, “Look, ‘m sorry about giving you a hard time last week. I didn’t mean to like… shame you or anything.”
“No, I get it. It’s everyone’s first impression of me, trust me.” She chuckled, “That judgement is exactly why I pulled him out of his previous school, though. He heard people talking that I was never there, that I was leaving him on his own, that I wasn’t fit to be a parent. It’s painful because I’m really doing this all for him.”
Harry nodded again, listening to her. Claire fiddled with her fingers, “Like what he said about the pool earlier, you heard, right?"
“Mhm. I did.”
“Well, I want that too. I want to give him everything, I want him to have a nice childhood and I want to spend time with him. But I don’t have an education so I can’t really go for high-paying jobs. Just have to take what I can get and hope for flexible hours to be there for him.”
“You’re doing a lot, Claire.” Harry sympathized, “Seriously, ‘m sorry. I-I judged way too quick.”
“That’s fine.” She shot him a sly smile, “Happens when you’re old.”
Harry smiled and shook his head to himself, “And hey… I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop him off here whenever you have to work late or want some time for yourself? Finn and Atlas can spend time together, he could even stay the night if you want. And you don’t have to pay me.”
“What?” Claire frowned.
“I’m serious.” He shrugged, “It’s nice for Finn to have a friend. They’re joined at the hip.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to see both boys giggling together, a smile tugging on his lips, “I think they’d like it. He could eat here or I could grab him after school, bring him here. You can just come pick him up whenever you’re finished.”
Claire tilted her head to the side with a frown, “But… Don’t you have to work? Or go places?”
“Not really, to be honest.” Harry admitted, “I’m home all the time. A lot has changed since my divorce and I don’t have much of a social life anymore, just put Finn first. Wanted him to grow up with at least one present parent after all the arguing he had to witness as a baby. And I work for myself, got flexible hours. I work when he’s at school or when he goes to bed at night.”
Claire stared at him, “I-I mean… If you’re sure.”
“Of course.” Harry smiled, “Dead sure. You can even go on your dates on Saturday nights, or something.” He teased softly and Claire bit her lip, “You’re right. I can. I should text that guy to reschedule."
He hummed, “You can.” He then turned to face her, “So we’ve got a deal?”
Claire nibbled her lip, “And… you’d want nothing out of it?”
“No.” Harry shook his head, “Just doing it for Finn. And Atlas is a nice kid, Claire. He’s a good influence to bring Finn out of his shell.”
She smiled softly, her bubbly boy being a good influence made her so proud. “Okay. Then I guess we have a deal.”
They stupidly shook hands before bursting out in giggles. Claire hummed, bumping her shoulder into his again, “You’re not that bad, you know?”
“I know.” Harry playfully responded, “Neither are you."
“You’re the first mum-friend I’ve ever made in my life.”
“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “Don’t call me your mum-friend.”
Claire threw her head back in a laugh and Harry leaned back a little bit too, his eyes finally catching the ink on the back of Claire’s shoulder now that her hair dried a bit. He could see now, that it was a tattoo for Atlas. Literally a tattoo of Atlas, who carried the world. It was simple, and even a little disturbed with some dark bruises around it.
Harry swallowed, but decided not to comment on it.
***
“Hi, Harry!” Atlas bubbled as he waved at Harry. He was leaning against his car, sunglasses up his nose as he waved back, “Hi, bud.”
“Atlas!” Claire panted as she came running from across the street – having done another horrible parking job with her car. Harry smiled as she ran up to Atlas, crouching down to catch him in a hug. Atlas ran straight into her arms with a giggle and Claire hugged him, stroking his back, “Hi, baby. How was your day?”
“Good!” He smiled widely. Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek as she smiled.
“Bye Atlas! See you soon!” Finn’s voice sounded as he ran up to Harry, and Claire straightened up as she shot him a wave, “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you.”
Yeah, hey.” He smiled back, “Been here a while, I like to be early, Finn doesn’t like to wait.”
“Are you sure it’s still okay for tonight?”
He nodded, “Yep, ‘s fine.” Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair, “Gonna come over for a movie night, bud?”
“Can we watch Toy Story?!” Atlas excitedly gasped and Harry groaned a little under his breath, recovering quickly as he rolled his lips inside of her mouth, “Mhm.”
Claire chuckled, “Are you sure?” She softly asked him and Harry nodded again, “Positive, really. It’ll be fun.”
Her hair was up in a clip again, whisps of hair flying around. She wore a jumper even if it was boiling, and Harry could tell she was still wearing the Burger King shirt underneath, some of the muted brown sticking out of the neckline of her jumper. Claire took Atlas’ hand and waved at Harry and Finn, “See you tonight!”
“Bye!” Harry waved back, and Finn did too. As Harry urged Finn into the backseat, Dolores walked up to him. With her fresh bob-cut and perfect make-up, she sent him a smile, “Hi, Harry.”
“Dolores.” He nodded. She eyed him up and down, “Did I overhear you talking to Claire for a moment there?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm.” There was no point in lying about it, all eyes had been on them just a minute before. His eyes flicked to the other side of the street where Claire slammed her car door to drive off, not putting on her blinkers before she sped off. He wanted to roll his eyes at her driving behaviour but also knew he was super extreme with his careful driving.
“You know…” Dolores lowered her voice and came a little closer as Harry closed Finn’s car door. He straightened up and Dolores shortly glanced around, “There has been some talk. You know, a new mum… people always talk.” She shrugged as if it was the most normal thing. Harry stiffly nodded, “Naturally.” He vividly remembered all the gossip when word got around about what happened between him and Astrid.
“And well,” Dolores tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Natalie heard that Claire has a past in drug abuse.” She was near whispering now, “And that she was married to a dealer.”
Harry let out a soft sigh, “Right.” He hardly listened, if he was honest. He knew better. Word got around quickly here, but everything got changed and manipulated. He knew better than to believe everything he heard around this town.
Dolores cleared her throat, “And that she was using while being pregnant. That poor boy… I mean, it’s clear that he’s got ADHD, and that could be a result of her abusing drugs while pregnant.”
Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Dolores,” He sighed, “even if it’s true, who cares? It’s her life and it’s been six years since she was pregnant. Let’s not meddle.” He simply spoke, forcing her a small smile.
“I’m just warning you,” Dolores put her hand on Harry’s arm and he flicked his eyes down to the touch with a frown in his forehead. Dolores swallowed, “She’s around Finn, Harry. Think about the influence…”
Harry cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, walking around his car to get behind the wheel, “Bye, Dolores.”
She opened her mouth to say more, but Harry was already in his car with the door closed. He didn’t spare her another glance before he drove off.
A few hours later, someone rang his door. Claire was fiddling with the top button of her dress as she waited for Harry to open his door. Atlas was by her side, excited for his movie night here as she had rescheduled with her date for tonight.
She was sort of excited, it had been a while since she had gone out. Her work schedule didn’t allow her to and she wanted to spend most nights with Atlas. Knowing he wasn’t just in the apartment with Belle scrolling on her phone, but was spending time with his friends eased her guilt a little of leaving him alone.
The lock clicked as Harry appeared, flashing a grin at Atlas, “Hey!”
“Hi, Harry!” He grinned back before turning to Claire, “Bye, mummy!!” He hardly waited for her response before sprinting into the house he knew rather well by now. Claire chuckled, “Yeah, bye. Love you too.”
Harry leaned against the doorpost, shortly scanning her outfit. He was used to seeing Claire either in her Burger King outfit or in jeans and a shirt. Now, she wore a dress. And make-up. It was clear to him she was making an effort. The slippers on her feet made his brows raise though, “Is he super short or something?” He nudged his head towards her feet.
Claire followed his eyes, “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I just can’t drive in heels so I’ll switch my shoes when I arrive.” She explained, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, “By the way, if I’m done before midnight, I’m coming back over to pick him up.”
“In the middle of the night?” Harry frowned.
“Yeah, we sort of have our morning routing, Atlas and I. So I prefer picking him up and letting him sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. What time do you usually go to bed?”
Harry scratched his chin, “Yeah, around midnight.”
“Okay, but I’ll text you. Maybe he sucks and I’ll be back in an hour.”
His lips curled up in an amused smirk, “What’re dealbreakers to you, Claire?”
“I’d love to go over the list with you,” She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and blindly put it on, painting them a soft cherry red before rubbing them together, “but I’m going to be late if we get into that.”
Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Claire’s lips and he huffed out a chuckle, “Fine. Well, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you’d come pick up Atlas.”
“Will do! Thank you.” Claire spun on her heel and headed back to her car, driving off the driveway to head to her date. Harry watched, feeling only slightly wary of her going by car instead of being picked up. He wondered if she’d drink during dinner and then drive, picking up Atlas to drive with him.
Dolores’ words ran through his head over and over again before he shook his head to himself and headed inside.
He checked his phone a few times, but Claire was actually having an okay time on her date. The guy who worked at the lawyer firm was charming and showed up in a suit. A bit stiff, Claire thought. And she was definitely underdressed. Her black dress looked classy but was cheap as fuck, and the buttons around her chest seemed near ready to pop.
His eyes were drawn to her tits most of the time as he drank the one scotch after the other. Their conversations started pleasantly and Claire got it out of the way first, immediately notifying him of the fact she had a six year-old son. He hadn’t responded much to it, just hummed and said it was cool.
As the evening progressed, Claire got a bit of an ick though. He seemed to talk mostly about herself and when he ended up not asking one single question about Atlas, Claire decided for herself that this was not it. He was near drunk once they finished their dinner and headed outside. He sloppily tried to kiss her and she turned him down, even having to stifle her laugh when he casually suggested they hook up just once.
He also called her a prude when she refused. Rolling her eyes, Claire got in her car. Before driving off, she quickly texted Harry.
Message to: Harry (Finn’s dad)
Coming back from the restaurant now, I’ll be there in twenty.
It was nowhere near midnight, but just past ten thirty in the evening. Claire had only been on her date a good few hours but it had felt like forever. With the window down, she drove up to Harry’s house again after another disappointing night. It had been the one shitty date after the other in the past few months.
Most lights in the house seemed off as Claire pulled up, getting out in her slippers and softly knocking on the door as to not alert the sleeping children. She heard footsteps, and soon Harry opened up. He looked a little sleepy and Claire suspected he had dozed off on the couch before she texted him that she was coming back.
“Hi.” She bit her lip, “Sorry, did I wake you?”
He stifled a yawn, “You didn’t. Put the boys to bed not too long ago and I was reading a little bit.” He opened the door wider for her, “Come in. How was the date?”
“Horrible.” Claire huffed, following him into the kitchen. Harry hummed, “Want some coffee? Or water? There’s also some dinner leftover if you want.”
“It actually smells so good in here.” Claire hummed, “If you’ve got any left, I’d like to.”
“Sure, I’ll heat some up. Tell me about the guy.”
Claire pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, “Well, he was just…” She shrugged, “Boring. And arrogant. He only talked about himself, was just overall rude and he drank so much, god… I hope he didn’t yet have to drive.”
Harry smiled softly at her words as he put a plate in the microwave. “How responsible of you.” He teased, repeating the words from last week that she had mocked him with. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, “Hey, I have morals.”
“Hm.” Harry hummed, remembering Dolores’ words again. He turned around, “Here you go. Atlas really liked it.”
“Holy shit. Did you make this yourself?”
“Think I’ve got some private chef here, Claire?”
She shrugged, “Honestly, yes.” Her fork poked into a piece of chicken as she stuffed it in her mouth.
“Nah, I’m quite an okay cook. I like cooking actually.” Harry went to sit on the opposite countertop, his legs dangling over the edge as they were in the dimly lit kitchen, “Go on now, tell me five positive things about the date.”
“Five?” Claire’s eyes widened, “Uh…” She chewed for a bit, “well, one… he paid. So that was nice.” She narrowed her eyes in thought and Lennon chuckled softly, “Only one?”
“No, no, wait, let me think.” Claire shook her head, “Oh, well, he didn’t shame me when I wanted to have dessert. And when I said I had a kid, he said it was cool.”
“Cool?” Harry frowned, “That’s supposed to be a positive thing? The bar is very low.”
“It’s on the floor, let’s be honest.”
“So I assume it’s safe to say there won’t be a second date.”
Claire scrunched her nose, “Definitely not. He tried to kiss me and suggested sex.”
Harry’s brows raised, “Seriously? Bold.”
“You’d be surprised, dating isn’t the same as it was ten years ago.”
He hummed, “Apparently. Thank god I don’t have to go through that.” He shook his head to himself. He knew it could be brutal out there. Hell, Astrid had made it brutal for him. The thought of her left his stomach in clenches and he quickly pushed it all away.
“Harry, this is really good. Wow.” Claire near moaned as she ate more food and Harry smiled, “Thanks.” He felt proud at her compliment and shyly glanced down. Claire swallowed her bite, “So what did you three do tonight?”
“Watched Toy Story. Twice.”
Claire sputtered out a giggle, “No way.”
“Atlas is quite persuasive.” Harry chuckled, “But I was reading a little throughout. They were nice and quiet though, had some popcorn. They wanted to swim but I said no.”
“Stern.” Claire nodded and Harry shrugged, “Some might say, yes.”
Claire crossed her legs over one another and leaned back, “So… I’m curious. If you never go on a date, how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
Harry chuckled to himself while shaking his head, “Nope. None of your business.”
Claire shrugged, “Fair enough.”
They sat in silence for a bit until Claire decided to head home. Harry guided her up the stairs to show the spare room where Atlas was sleeping. He was dazed until he laid eyes on his mum, a wide grin spreading over his face. Claire carried him downstairs and gently put him in the car before thanking Harry again and driving off.
***
“Thank you so much for watching him.” Claire breathed as she was at the door in her Burger King outfit. She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Her hair was a little messy and she had bags under her eyes. It was a Thursday and almost a week after she had dropped Atlas off here to go on her date.
He hadn’t seen much of her throughout the week, or just shortly to pick up Atlas after school. Today, she had to pick up another shift so Harry took Atlas home after school to hang out with Finn.
“’S no problem.” Harry shrugged, “I’ve told you, Atlas is a nice kid to have around. He’s polite.”
“Yeah.” Claire tiredly smiled, “Can you go grab him?”
Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Mhm. Or – uh… we were just about to have dinner. You can join if you want.”
“That’s really nice,” Claire sighed, “but you’re already doing way too much for us. And I desperately need to shower.”
“I have showers.” He shrugged.
“Showers? Multiple?”
He chuckled, “Yes. C’mon,” he urged her, nodding his head inside the house, “it’ll be nice for the boys.”
It’s what he went with. That it was nice for the boys. Really trying to ignore the fact that it’d be nice for him too. Claire was easy to talk to and not as uptight or fake like all the other mums in the school. She was blunt and unapologetic, but very straightforward and without bullshit. He appreciated that now, whereas he didn’t at first.
She was trying her best, he could see that.
Claire eventually caved, nodding her head. She wore that horrific Burger King fit and Harry showed her where everything was in the bathroom, handing her a pair of joggers and a shirt of his.
The four of them sat around the dinner table later, with Claire only being slightly uncomfortable at how underdressed and casual she was. The clothes Harry handed her felt nice and soft, but she wasn’t used to having dinner in pyjamas with wet hair laying on her back and with anyone else besides Atlas.
“I have a question,” Harry popped, narrowing his eyes at Claire, “Do you ever eat burgers?”
She chuckled, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. Can’t stand burgers anymore. Besides, I see how they’re made and let me tell you… it’s a big no. I’m in the smell of it all day and I just…” She shuddered, “Nope.”
They fell silent again with just Finn and Atlas whispering something to one another until Finn nodded and cleared his throat, “Claire?” He spoke in a small, soft voice. Claire swallowed her bite and turned, “Yes?”
Finn looked a little nervous, shifting in his chair as he put his fork down and a slight flush rose over his cheeks, “Atlas said I could come to your house.”
Claire frowned slightly, shortly flicking her eyes to Atlas before clearing her throat, “I’m… what?”
“We always come here. I want to show Finn where we live.” Atlas piped up. Claire felt her cheeks heating up a little bit in embarrassment as she stared at her plate. Harry hummed, “That could be fun. Maybe we could all have dinner at your place?”
Claire licked her lip, refusing to look him in the eye, “That’s…well, that’s not possible. I-I don’t have a table that can fit four people.” She mumbled softly. Her shoulders slumped a little bit and Harry paused mid-chew to watch her as she kept her eyes on the food in her plate.
“Atlas, baby, we don’t really have the room for you and Finn to play the way you can here, right?” She softly spoke to her son.
Atlas pouted and Claire forced him a small smile, “Maybe some other time, yeah?”
“But I want to show him where we live.” Atlas murmured in a trembling voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Claire turned to him and kept her voice soft, “I know. But you know how mummy always says we won’t live there for too long? Because it’s so small and loud and dark?” She near whispered to Atlas, who nodded and sniffled once, “Well, maybe we should wait until we live somewhere nicer.”
“Are you poor?” Finn’s voice sounded curious and Claire’s eyes widened.
“Finn!” Harry scolded in shock, “You can’t ask people that!”
Finn looked completely horrified at the sudden volume his father used to talk to him. He stared at Harry with large, green eyes and even his lip was trembling, “B-But Atlas comes to school with dirty clothes.” He near whispered, sounding nervous. Claire’s stomach dropped and Finn sniffled again, “And we share my lunch because he’s still hungry after his.”
“Stop!” Harry snapped, his fist coming down on the table. Finn jumped up with a gasp in surprise and then burst into tears, scrambling from the table to run off. Claire held her breath as she stared at Harry, his fist clenched as he exhaled a sharp breath, “Shit.” He grumbled under his breath.
Claire swallowed and turned to Atlas, “Do you want to go check up on Finn, baby? Tell him his daddy’s not mad at him and neither am I? That we’re all okay?”
Atlas also seemed surprised with Harry’s outburst and timidly nodded before leaving the table to find Finn in the house. The moment he was out of sight, tears spilled from Claire’s eyes. She turned her head away from Harry, hiding it as she hastily wiped underneath her eyes. Her fingers trembled, repeating in her head what Finn had said.
That Atlas showed up with dirty clothes to school and not enough lunch, to the point he was still hungry and ate from the other kid’s lunchboxes.
“Claire.” Harry exhaled and she ignored him, her brain spinning. She was trying so hard. And all this time, she thought she had been doing good. That Atlas was at least happy even if they didn’t have all that much. But people talked, and soon enough the same thing would happen like it had done in his three previous schools. Word would get around, parents would tell their kids not to hang out with him and he’d be bullied.
Harry scooted his chair closer to hers, “Claire,” He repeated, “look at me.”
She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes up. Harry noticed the wetness in her waterline, the red rimming around her lids. She was exhausted and sad, and it was written all over her face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so gently patted her knee, “I’m sorry.”
“No,” She shook her head, “it’s not his fault. I just – uh… I didn’t know.” She simply shrugged, staring down again, “We’re always in such a hurry in the mornings a-and I just grab whatever clothes of his I can find. And sometimes I don’t have time to do laundry in the weekends. And I swear, he fucking grows all the time, it’s like I have to buy new shirts every other week.” She tiredly scratched her forehead.
Harry listened to her soft rambling and Claire shook her head, “He’s never complained.” Her voice was a little raspy, “about being hungry, or not having enough food. He’s never mentioned it to me.”
“I’m sure Finn was exaggerating.” Harry murmured back, holding his hand on her knee now to give a gentle squeeze, “It maybe happened once. He’s an energized kid who eats a lot, I’ve noticed it here too. I’m sure that if he truly was hungry after lunch every single day, he would’ve told you. You guys are close, right?”
“Yeah.” Claire nodded, “He usually tells me everything.”
“See? I’m sure it’s not that bad. And so what he has a stain on his shirt? He’s a wild kid, always playing and running around… he’s bound to fuck up his clothes.”
Claire listened to him and really tried to hear him, but fresh tears welled in her eyes, “I’m really trying, Harry.” Her tone was shaky and he cooed, “I know. Fuck, I know. I can see it first-hand.”
“Shit.” Claire murmured as she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders trembled in quiet sobs. Harry squeezed her knee and then moved his hand up to her shoulder, “Hey, c’mere.” He urged her to stand up and Claire did so, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a hug. Her forehead was pressed to his clavicle as she sobbed into him, Harry’s arms rubbing up her back to comfort her and shush her softly.
“You’re doing incredible, Claire. And Atlas loves you so much.” He held her body to his, feeling as she weakly cried, both in exhaustion and in feeling powerless. It was a few minutes later that Harry swallowed, “And if you ever need help with money or anything…” He knew the moment he said it, that she’d refuse.
Claire sniffled and shook her head while being pressed to him, “We’ll be fine.”
“O-Or maybe your parents or something?”
“They cut me off. I haven’t been in contact with them since they knew I was pregnant.” Her voice was soft and Harry pressed his lips together, giving her another squeeze, “And doesn’t your ex need to pay? For Atlas?”
Claire sighed out into his neck, “You’d think so. The lawyers are working on it because he refuses to pay. But those things take so long, I’m not even hopeful anymore I’ll ever see a dime.”
It made Harry hate him even more. He had heard little bits about Evan, Atlas’ dad, from Finn. Not much, nothing detailed, just that Atlas didn’t see him that much and that he lived in the area. Any piece of information that Harry found out, made his blood boil. He couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t make an effort to hang out with Atlas, who was such a fun little boy to be around. Harry found there was nothing more satisfying than watching his son grow up and he couldn’t imagine missing it for the life of him.
“Well, you can always ask me. I won’t question it.” Harry concluded and Claire sniffled, “Thank you.”
They stood embraced for another good few minutes until Claire untangled herself, “I’m fine.” She took a breath, through most of her crying as she shot Harry an unconvincing smile, “I’ll be fine.”
“I know.” He nodded.
***
Message from: Claire
He’s wearing boat shoes. I don’t know what to do.
Harry chuckled at the screen of his phone as Finn had his head laying in his lap. Atlas was curled up in the couch too, eyes glued to the screen as they were having another Friday movie night. And Claire was out on a date.
It was nearing November now, and their little deal had been going on for a few months. Claire didn’t go out every weekend, but at least every other weekend. And Harry took Atlas here for the night to hang out with Finn so she could go on her date.
It was safe to say that it usually wasn’t that big of a success. Claire would text him underneath the table about all the horrible things they’d say or do and then come here to pick up Atlas. It resulted in at least an hour of gossiping and laughing before she eventually left and he’d watch her drive off in the darkness of the night.
Message to: Claire.
What colour are they?
His phone soon buzzed with a response.
Message from: Claire.
Who cares!! We’re in the city, not on a fucking boat!
Harry laughed again, shaking his head to himself as he stroked his fingers through Finn’s hair. He had a book next to him but found himself almost more interested in the movie playing. Tangled. It wasn’t half bad, to be honest.
Harry hardly noticed it as Atlas crawled closer to him until bumping his head into Harry’s bicep. He glanced to his side to see the blonde-haired little boy with half-tired eyes, cuddled into a blanket.
Harry hesitated for a moment before opening his arm and Atlas didn’t wait a second, simply nuzzled into Harry’s side with a content sigh. Harry’s heart felt full, with Atlas cuddled into him on one side and Finn resting on his lap. He gently stroked his fingers over Atlas’ head and the boy melted into him even more. There was trust here, after weeks and weeks of spending time together. Atlas was incredible, Harry had come to find out. He was clever and witty, making Finn laugh louder than Harry had ever heard.
Atlas was definitely more on the mischievous side where Finn was rather timid and quiet, but they compensated the other very well. And had grown to be very close friends.
Harry’s phone buzzed softly.
Message from: Claire.
Okay, I’m out of here. He just asked how much I make a month and if I can get him free burgers.
Harry snorted softly and typed back.
Message to: Claire.
Yeah, sounds like your cue to leave. You can catch the final bit of the movie if you’re lucky.
The movie progressed and before Harry truly and well realized it, the three of them were dozed off on the couch. Only when he heard the soft footsteps in the house – after he had showed Claire where he kept the spare key – did his eyes blink open.
Claire watched him with an amused smile, eyes darting over Atlas and Finn who were both asleep on parts of his body.
“This is cute.” She whispered. Harry yawned softly, “Sorry, fell asleep.”
“I can see that.” She sat down on the couch next to Atlas and stroked his back, “Baby?”
Atlas nuzzled further into Harry and Claire shook her head with a smile, “He’s taking the moment to his advantage.”
“He can’t cuddle you like that?”
“No,” Claire exhaled, “hurts my boobs.”
Harry chuckled, “Right. So I take it the date wasn’t a success?”
“A big fat no.” Claire sighed, “God, where am I supposed to meet a decent guy these days. I swear, every app I have downloaded has only lead me to horrible evenings like this. Maybe I should just stay single forever.”
“Yeah, come over to the dark side. It’s fun here.” Harry joked and Claire leaned back in the couch. She wore a sundress with sleeves tonight, pushing it a little in these rather cold temperatures. But Harry had yet to see her in pants whenever she went on a date, it was always a dress.
“So boat shoes…” Harry mused and Claire groaned, “I know.”
“Well, at least it wasn’t flip-flops. Like that guy you went out with a few weeks back.”
“Am I supposed to see the silver lining here?”
Harry smiled and it was quiet for a moment, “You want a drink? Or some food?”
Claire yawned, “No, thanks. I think we’re just going to go home.”
“Really?” His voice jumped a little, “I mean,” Harry shrugged while clearing his throat, “you could stay a bit. Or sleep in the guest room with Atlas. He’s asleep anyway.”
“Harry,” Claire laughed, “I know we’re friends but we’re a bit too old for sleepovers, no?”
Friends.
Well, that hurt.
Harry didn’t protest when Claire gently woke Atlas up, who immediately cuddled into her instead. She kissed his forehead, “Wanna go home?”
“Mhm.” He sleepily responded. Claire picked him up, wincing a bit at the ache in her back. Atlas weighed a bit too much to still be carried by her, but he was too sleepy. Harry gently nudged Finn off, who didn’t wake and rested on a pillow instead, before he let Claire and Atlas out.
“Bye.” He waved in a whisper and Claire waved back once she put Atlas in the passenger seat, “Bye!”
Harry groaned to himself once Claire was out of sight. Friends. Friends. God damn it. He knew it. He had let it go on for too long and now he was friendzoned. He was literally her mum-friend, the one she gossiped to about other guys. Holy fuck.
Harry ran his palms over his face and sighed out, picking up Finn from the couch to carry him to bed and then go to sleep himself.
With the colder temperatures approaching, the next few weeks consisted of thicker clothes and spending less time outside. It got a bit harder for Harry to entertain the boys as they couldn’t go in the pool or play outside too much. It was basically waiting for snow now.
December just rolled in and Harry was sitting in his car, waiting for Finn to be done with school and to take him home. He used to always wait outside his car but it was too cold now, so he waited inside. His eyes scanned the street in search of Claire’s old Toyota. They had seen each other on Friday after she came back from another date, dressed in heels, stockings and a skirt. It was a cute look on her, accentuating her figure.
She said it wasn’t horrible this time but there wasn’t really a connection there, so it would stick to the one date. Harry hummed at that, and he couldn’t really say he minded all that much. He found himself looking forward to her texts, or the moments she’d come home after another disappointment of a date, spilling to him. Even if he was in the friend zone, it still cheered him up to see her.
Dare he say, it was the highlight of his week right now.
So he scanned the streets, not seeing her car. Not when the bell rang and the children were let out. Harry exited his car, a wide grin on his face as Finn ran over to him excitedly.
“Hi, m’love.” Harry crouched down to take Finn into a hug, spotting a blonde head of hair in the corner of his eye. He patted Finn on the shoulder, “Do we need to take Atlas home today?”
Finn shook his head, “No, he said someone’s picking him up.”
Harry frowned slightly, scanning the line of parents until he spotted Atlas, walking over to a girl with black hair and a cigarette between her fingers. She hardly paid him attention and his head was a little low. Soon enough, they made way to the bus station and disappeared from sight.
Harry refrained from texting Claire that night. It could be crossing a line, asking if she was okay. They had never really done that before and usually texted in a very casual way or to discuss picking up Atlas.
He didn’t see her the remainder of the week and it was nearing Christmas break now. Although Harry vowed to never pull his kid into this, he couldn’t help himself but question Finn on Friday.
“So… Are you sad that Atlas hasn’t been here all week?” He asked as they were having dinner, just the two of them.
Finn shrugged. He wasn’t a kid to speak out of line, which is why the poor-comment he made about Claire shocked Harry so much. He had raised Finn to be very polite and respectful. He had taught him that whenever a friend told him a secret, he were to keep it to build an keep the trust. It’s why he felt like guilty now, prying.
“He said it’s busy at home.” Finn answered and Harry flicked his eyes to him, “Busy?”
“Mhm.” Finn nodded, “With his mummy. He says she’s not feeling too well so he stays with her.”
Harry slowly nodded, “That’s nice of him.”
“It is.” Finn agreed.
Silence fell over the dinner table and Harry cringed at himself, unable to let the topic go, “Did Finn mention why Claire’s feeling a little poorly?”
Finn softly shrugged as he poked his food, “He says her face hurts.”
Harry near dropped his fork, stomach twisting in discomfort as he heard the words coming from Finn’s mouth. He softly cleared his throat, “Her face hurts?”
Finn was more interested in his food, simply nodding as he continued eating and Harry finally dropped it. He had a pretty clear idea as to why Claire’s face would hurt. He tightly gripped his fork, staring at his phone on the table in contemplation whether or not to text her. If it was crossing a line.
They had known each other for months now but never really dipped into that part of their friendship – as Claire would call it. Their talks were mostly playful or consisting of their children. They didn’t actually know much about one another on a personal level, they never had conversations like that and Harry wasn’t sure if this was pushing it or not.
So he left it at that. And a few days later, she reached out to him. Claire texted him, saying a guy asked her out on a date on Friday, asking him if it was okay if Atlas stayed the evening and if Harry had the time.
He responded faster than ever, immediately agreeing. Even though the idea that she was going on a date gnawed at him and he was searching high and low for the courage to ask her out himself – it still made his chest flutter that he was going to see her and talk to her.
The gnawing feel overpowered though, especially when he opened his door and she was there in a silk mini dress with tights and a dark purple loose cardigan over her shoulders to keep her warm. The cold was biting and even to drop Atlas off, Harry shortly invited her in.
Only when she was in the lights of the kitchen, could he take a decent look at her.
“Holy shit, what the hell happened to your face?” Was the first thing flying out of his mouth. Luckily for Harry, both Finn and Atlas were out of earshot. Claire exhaled and tilted her head to the side, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I covered it.”
She looked at him with big, round eyes. Her blonde hair was in soft waves laying over her back and all he could really see was the bruise on her cheekbone. He could tell it had faded and had gone towards a muted purple colour with hints of green. He could also see the layer of make-up she had put on over that.
“It’s… I mean, I can tell, yeah. It looks like a shadow.” He explained. Claire sighed, “Great. That guy’s gonna think I’m some crazy woman.”
“What happened?” Harry asked again. Claire took a moment and forced him a smile as she tried to busy herself with the strap of her bag, “Just me being clumsy.”
Harry narrowed his eyes, “I don’t believe that for a second. Why did you have Belle pick up Atlas every single day this week?”
“Because I was working and couldn’t do it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “So? You could’ve asked me. Been doing it for the past few months with pleasure, so why relay on Belle again?”
“She asked, said she could use the money.” Claire shrugged and Harry huffed, “That doesn’t sound like you. Seems unlikely.”
“Yeah, I’m just that much of a bitch, aren’t I?” She responded bitterly, shaking her head to herself, “I don’t know what the big deal is. You got a week free of me and Atlas.”
“Didn’t ask for a week free of either you or Atlas. Neither did Finn.” It sounded like a dig, and Claire flicked her eyes up in shock of his words. They sounded venomous and angry, as if Finn had been unhappy this week without Atlas here in the evenings, and it was Claire’s fault. Harry continued, “Besides, I think the real reason wasn’t you being a nice person to Belle. I think the real reason was that you didn’t want me or Finn to see you with your face beaten up, which is why you hid all week.”
His voice softened and Claire’s stare hardened too. She inhaled a shaky breath, trying to recompose herself even if her heart was hammering violently and she could feel the lump in her throat.
“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Harry.” She murmured, “If a person shows up with bruises and you have a feeling they’re not telling you the truth, there’s a reason for that. Don’t fucking pry it out of me like that, and why on earth do you even think you have the right or the audacity to do so? I don’t owe you any sort of explanation.”
He opened his mouth but she cut him off, “No, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You don’t get a free pass into my personal life just because my son likes you and we’re acquainted.”
It had gone from friends to acquaintances now. Harry felt the jab to his chest, knowing he had fucked up tremendously. Claire was breathing heavily as she sniffled once, “Now, I’m going to go on a date and attempt to enjoy it. I’ll see you later.” She strode past him and didn’t wait for Harry to let her out. The door slammed harshly until the pictures of Astrid and Finn on the walls rattled and Harry was left in silence.
He sat brooding that night. Checking his phone constantly for updates. Claire’s dates had never been this quiet. Usually she at least texted him when she arrived to let him know what the guy was wearing. There’d be texts throughout if her date said something disgusting or stupid, and at the end of the night to update him on if they had split the check or not.
It had been hours and there hadn’t been anything. With each buzz, he hastily grabbed his phone only to find it was either his mum or some notification of an e-mail he didn’t care for. His leg bobbed impatiently as he sat through another movie night with Finn and Atlas. And there was nothing that could take his mind off of things.
So when he had put the boys to bed and sat down on the couch again to check his phone, it was still empty. He drew up a message to send her but deleted it again, realizing his apologies would never come across through text while she was out with another man. He had to tell her in person, so he forced himself to stay awake.
Claire never came.
She never texted him, she simply never showed up. Harry stayed up for a few hours until midnight passed and then one in the morning, and then two in the morning. His lids felt droopy before he dragged himself to bed with the harsh realization that Claire was spending the night with her date.
He knew. She’d never go home to sleep by herself and leave Atlas here. She always picked him up. The only reason she wouldn’t pick him up, is if she was sleeping with him at his house or in a hotel room.
She was getting fucked, having sex, and Harry knew it.
The dates in the past hadn’t bothered him that much because they always ended up being assholes or losers and Claire was never truly interested in any of them. She never minded that there wasn’t a second date and simply kept swiping on Tinder until finding someone else.
In all the months they had been doing this, she had never spent the night with someone. It made Harry’s chest sink so deep that it hurt. It physically hurt, knowing she was with someone else. Who got to kiss her, touch her, smell her and taste her. Hear her, feel her, be inside of her.
His fists balled as he suddenly couldn’t catch sleep after that realization. He was so fucking jealous.
Harry hardly slept, but when his phone buzzed at around eight in the morning, he was wide awake.
Message from: Claire.
I’ll be there in like ten minutes.
He jolted up in bed and hastily went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth. Both boys were still asleep but Harry didn’t know for how long. He rushed down the stairs to be there for when she arrived, and like clockwork he heard gentle taps against the door.
He saw her and it only confirmed his suspicions. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was in a bun, but she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. The bruise was more prominent now with the absence of make-up, but what he could see was a fresh bruise. In the form of a lovebite at the base of her neck. It wasn’t that deep or dark, but he noticed straightaway.
Harry cleared his throat, “Hi.”
“Hey.” Claire mumbled, “Is Atlas up yet?”
“He’s not. D’you want to come in? I’ll make some coffee.”
Claire hesitated and eventually followed him inside of the familiar house. She sat down on the barstool she had been sitting in that first time she spent the day here and Harry had his back to her, working his coffee machine.
He swallowed through the lump in his throat, “So I take it you had a good date?”
“You could say that.” Claire breathed. Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his back to her. Claire cleared her throat, “We’re actually going out again next week.”
He turned around in lightning speed, “What?”
Claire blinked, “We’re going out again next week.” She repeated in a soft voice. Harry felt his fingers tightly gripping the countertop, “Like… like a second date?”
“Mhm.”
His knees weakened and he felt the stinging behind his lids, quickly turning around again to face the coffee machine, “That’s great.”
“It is.” Claire agreed, “He’s nice.”
They fell into silence and Harry poured her a cup of coffee as Claire drew a breath, “I can ask Belle, you know? To watch him. Next week.”
Harry immediately shook his head, “No way. Besides, it’s Christmas break. I’m sure Belle will want to do something else than babysit. And I don’t mind. We’re going to set up the tree, I’m sure Atlas will like that.”
“He will.” Claire nodded, “He’s been wanting a tree for a long time. We don’t have room in the apartment.”
Harry flicked his eyes to her, “Right.”
She forced him a smile and they fell into silence again. Harry realized he had never heard silence quite this fucking loud.
***
The week moved agonizingly slow. Claire showed up at school again, her bruise now faded. She picked up Atlas and shot a brief smile to Harry and Finn before spending the evening with her little man.
They cuddled and played board games, even some video games. It was always a task to entertain Atlas during school breaks. Claire couldn’t stay away from work so she usually organized camps for him or he spent a little more time with his father.
Not this time. Claire refused. She didn’t mind finding sitters and paying for them as long as Atlas didn’t spend any more time with Evan than absolutely necessary.
The had realized, after last weekend. After Atlas witnessed the abuse Evan put her through, that she would do everything in her power to keep him away. She wanted to give Evan a chance to be a father to Atlas, but he let him down over and over again. And mostly, Claire didn’t want Atlas to look up to Evan. And inherit some of his less nice qualities, like hitting women.
She couldn’t even imagine – and the thought made her sick – that Atlas would grow up to be like his father. It had resulted in more calls with her lawyer because she was getting slightly desperate for the money Evan owed her.
What had been taking her mind off things, was the prospect of her second date with Alexander. He had been an absolute sweetheart during their first date, so much so that Claire had felt butterflies. She opened up about Atlas and life as a single mum, and he was one of the first who didn’t laugh at her when she said she worked at Burger King. He noticed the bruise but didn’t ask her about it, besides wondering if she was in any pain.
She was, after a moment, from smiling so wide. So he gently kissed her at the end of the night and things got heated. Claire didn’t hesitate when he asked her to come to his apartment and they had spent a night between the sheets. Alexander had some stuff to learn, but Claire could be patient and guide him so he could learn how to satisfy her. She had searched high and low for an orgasm all night while giving him two, but it still didn’t mean it wasn’t fun.
Harry’s eyes had felt heavy on her when she went to drop Atlas off. Claire knew she looked good. She wore black again, a form-fitting dress to show off her curves with high heels to elevate her. She wore a bit of make-up but nothing too crazy and her hair was pinned back with a little butterfly clip.
His eyes had dragged up and down her form, boosting Claire’s confidence tremendously. She could see the heaviness in his eyes as they made a bit of polite small talk. She knew he was sorry about the way he spoke to her the week prior and she knew he didn’t like the fact she was going on a second date with Alexander.
She saw it in his stance, in his eyes. Jealousy. It was fine, Claire felt. Her and Harry did spent a lot of time together and even she’d feel a slight jab to her chest if he’d suddenly announce he was dating someone. In some stupid, crazy way it almost felt like they both had a claim on one another. But neither said anything and Claire wasn’t patient. Maybe she was taunting him, and part of her was. The dates in the past few months had all been disappointing and she expected the date with Alexander to be the same.
But he pleasantly surprised her and Claire had fun and felt seen. After the way Harry had spoken to her, it’s what she needed. And she couldn’t sit and wait around for him to figure out his feelings. She was moving on.
Moving on wasn’t easy though when your date doesn’t show up.
Claire looked like an idiot, sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. She checked her watch again, noticing Alexander was forty minutes late. She had double-checked their reservation to make sure she got the time and date right. She had texted him, called him, without answer. Her texts didn’t even go through, making her think he had her blocked.
She sipped slowly on her red wine until she had been there an hour, and she decided enough was enough. It was nine in the evening when she asked for the check to pay for her wine. The waiter shot her a sympathetic look that Claire brushed off, and she exited the restaurant.
Driving back to Harry’s house, she hadn’t notified him. She had only dropped Atlas off about an hour and a half ago and she suspected the three of them to just be sitting on the couch, watching a movie.
Claire shivered in the evening air as the had rang the door, hearing the familiar footsteps of Harry rushing over to the door before opening up with a frown. It softened at the sight of her. He hadn’t expected Claire here, an hour after she had left. The exciting glint she had in her eyes when leaving, was replaced by something he couldn’t really place.
“What happened?” He asked and Claire shrugged, fighting the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, “He stood me up.” She mumbled under her breath, “Can you grab Atlas? I really want to go home.”
“He stood you up?” Harry frowned, “What the fuck?”
Claire rolled her eyes, “Harry, it’s nothing. I’d just like to leave.”
“We’re in the middle of Monopoly.” He exhaled, “Look, just come in for a bit, you must be freezing.”
Claire hesitated. All she really wanted to do was go home with Atlas and cry in her shower before cuddling him to sleep. Harry opened the door wider, ushering her in, “Come on.”
And so she did. Her feet carried her into the house, met with the familiar warmth that Harry’s house exuded.
“Mummy!” Atlas sounded exited at the sight of his mother, jumping out of his chair to hug her. Claire smiled and kissed his forehead, “Hi, bub. ‘M back soon, aren’t I?”
Atlas giggled and jumped around, clearly very pleased with Claire joining the Monopoly-party.
“D’you want some tea? Or wine?” Harry offered.
“Wine.” Claire breathed immediately and Harry nodded, taking two glasses and filling them with some red wine as Finn and Atlas filled Claire in on how the game was going so far. She didn’t seem too in it with her head but nodded either way, quickly catching up on Harry’s strategy on losing on purpose to let either of the other boys win.
Claire followed along, playing without thinking and losing on purpose. Her wine was finished by the time Finn was crowned as the Monopoly-king.
As Finn and Atlas quickly settled down in front of the television, Claire and Harry were left to clear out the board game from the dinner table they had played at. Claire had put her hair up again with one of Harry’s pencils as they both tucked Monopoly back into the box.
“Some more wine?” Harry suggested. Claire exhaled and shook her head, “No, thanks, I still have to drive.”
“You’re not going home, are you?” Harry frowned, leaning against one of the chairs, “Claire, just stay here. You can sleep in the bed with Atlas. Or there’s even another guest room if you want.”
And Claire was too tired to argue. She timidly gave in and lifted her glass, “Well in that case… refill please.”
About an hour later, they had tucked their boys into bed. It was past their bedtime already but Harry and Claire agreed to cut them so slack since it was winter break and they didn’t have school for a few weeks.
“Do you want a shower? Or just some clothes of mine?”
“Just some clothes, please.” Claire responded, “’M a little cold.”
And so Harry gave her sweats, a shirt, a jumper and a pair of socks she could fit her feet in about three times. It looked a little ridiculous, but Harry had hearts in his eyes when she joined him on the sectional couch. She looked cuddly and soft, and her eyes were a little heavy from being tired and sad.
“Are you tired or do you want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked as he popped his feet up on the coffee table. Claire was on the other side of the couch with a blanket around her, “Your couch is so comfortable, I’m probably going to fall asleep here.” She contently sighed, “Don’t even need a bed.”
Harry chuckled as he watched her nuzzle into the pillow. With her feet stretched his way, he gently tapped her shin, “How come you’re so tired?”
“’S just been a long week.” She sighed, “Arranging things with my boss for the winter break, so I can hire sitters throughout the day but can stay with Atlas at night.” She explained, “Don’t want him to spend his break with his father.”
Harry took a sip of his wine and softly exhaled, “Can I ask why not?”
Claire flicked her eyes up, appreciating the way Harry was more careful in asking her this time instead of how he approached the subject last time. She swallowed, “Well, he’s abusive.” She softly spoke, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t want Atlas around someone like him.”
“Would he hurt Atlas?” Harry frowned and Claire shrugged, “I don’t think so. But then again, I also didn’t think he’d ever hurt me.”
“He hit you, didn’t he? Two weeks ago?” Harry softly asked and Claire let out a breath, “Mhm.”
“Shit, Claire…” He cursed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry.”
“’S not your fault.”
“No, I’m sorry for prying. I-I had a hunch and I should’ve just left it at that, it wasn’t fair of me.” Harry apologized, staring at his fingers before he lifted his head and turned to face her. Claire had a sad look on her face, “Just another thing added to the plate this week. His lawyer is literally such a dick. I just… I want this all to be over. To cut ties, to never have to see him again. But I also want Atlas to know his father.” She shrugged, “It’s hard.”
“I can imagine.” Harry sympathized, stroking his fingers over her covered shin. He licked his lip before continuing, “Were you two together for a long time?”
Claire sat up and hugged her legs to her body, her chin on her knee, “Few years. I made some wrong friends in school and went through a phase. I used drugs sometimes, I drank a lot, I partied, dropped out of school… I met Evan during that time and was already on thin ice with my parents. I sort of moved in with him in this little studio. He was – uh… a dealer. And he used a lot. Sort of pulled me into that.” She softly explained.
Claire closed her eyes for a moment, “I even used when pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant for the longest time and just kept drinking and doing drugs, I-I had no idea.” She murmured and Harry’s heart cracked, watching her as she blinked away some tears, “It’s literally a miracle that Atlas was born and that he was completely fine.”
It was silent for a bit as Claire relived some memories in her brain. Harry turned to face her more, scooting a little closer on the couch, “Was he happy that you were pregnant?”
“Ecstatic, actually.” Claire mumbled, “He was so happy. Of course, he was high most of the time. When sober, he hardly acknowledged me. He was… very difficult to read. When he was high, he was super happy or the complete opposite. When he was sober, he barely showed any emotion at all.”
Claire took a breath, “The moment my parents knew I was pregnant, they cut me off completely. I haven’t been in contact with them ever since. So I moved in with Evan permanently. Neither of us had a job and he got money from dealing, but it was a dangerous life. He got threatened a lot and was always stressed, he worked that out on me. He hit me, always when he was high. I forgave him, I had nowhere to go.” She shrugged, shaking her head to herself, “It was difficult for a few years. When Atlas was around two, I finally got away. I’ve been on my own ever since.”
The television was softly playing in the background but neither Harry or Claire paid it any attention. She lifted her head to send him a weak smile, “I’m happy now. Atlas is amazing and I love him so much. It’s just… hard sometimes. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, it just brings back so many memories and he keeps thinking he’s got some claim over me.” She nibbled her lip, “Atlas goes to his place sometimes on a Saturday. Like… once a month or something. He never stays the night. Two weeks ago he went there and obviously shared stuff about his life. About Finn, about… you.”
“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Evan lost it. I went to pick up Atlas again and he freaked out, said I was… well, every name in the book, really. Doesn’t usually bother me, but Atlas was around a-and I fought back, told him to stop. He just – well, yeah.” She pointed to the faded bruise on her face and sniffed once, “And that’s that.”
“Atlas saw?” Harry whispered and Claire nodded, “Yep.”
“Holy fuck… that guy is insane.” He scooted a little closer again, “Claire, you need like a restraining order. And you need full custody.”
“I’m trying.” She sighed, “I swear, these things take so long. I’ve been trying for months now, years maybe. It’s really not easy.”
Harry exhaled, “No, I know. I know.”
“Do you…” Claire asked warily, “do you have full custody?”
“Mhm.” Harry shortly nodded, “Astrid voluntarily wrote away her rights. She wanted nothing to do with Finn or me, so it was an easy arrangement. It’s more difficult when both parties fight the other.”
Claire frowned, “She… She chose to not be a part of Finn’s life?”
He shortly cleared his throat, “Yeah. Astrid… she’s a complex person, Claire. ‘M not even really sure how to explain it.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She softly spoke and Harry shook his head, “I think we’re sharing traumas here and it’s only fair if I share mine.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was heaviness in the air. Harry licked his lip, “We met when we were young and got married. Always wanted a family. It didn’t work for some time until Astrid got pregnant with Finn. From the moment she was pregnant I just… saw her change. It’s like she felt suffocated all of a sudden and only then realized how much her life was going to change as a mum. She did all these things, took all these trips spontaneously, like she was scared to be an adult all of a sudden. I sort of let her do her thing, figuring it was just what she needed at that point.”
Claire listened as Harry continued, “When he was born, it got even worse. It was like she resented him. We talked to therapists who brought up the whole postpartum depression thing, but Astrid said it was more than that. She didn’t want anything to do with Finn and actually tried to be as far away from him. Her motherly instincts never kicked in. She took off with her friends, took trips, partied and whatnot, always leaving me here with him. It was like she regressed back to her life in her early twenties. We hardly saw one another, she missed a lot of his first few years. She just didn’t want him. And then one day she just announced that she was leaving. Moving to some island to start over, signing away her rights and… she was gone. We got divorced easily and I’ve been a single parent ever since.”
“Wow.” Claire breathed, “That’s… so crazy. When was the last time you saw her?”
Harry scratched above his brow, “Probably… four years ago? I have no idea where she is right now, or what she’s doing. She’s completely messed it up for me, I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.” He sounded bitter and Claire shortly nodded, “Understandable.”
“It’s just like a sense of responsibility. I don’t know…” Harry mumbled, “We actively tried to have a baby, it’s not like it was a surprise.”
They fell into a silence until Harry exhaled and held up his glass, “Cheers to our exes.”
“Cheers.” Claire chuckled before shaking her head, “How sad are we.”
Harry took a sip, “We’re not sad.” He argued with a soft smile and Claire puffed out a breath, “I am. Can’t believe I got stood up. That was super embarrassing.”
“It’s honestly insane. He’s a fucking asshole.”
Claire pressed her lips together, “I mean, if he just wanted sex, he could’ve said so. I’m not stupid, like I get it. Just fucking tell me the truth and don’t string me along.”
Harry shot her a sly smile, “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”
“He did.” Claire corrected him in a shrug, her voice nothing but a gentle mumble. Harry looked at Claire over the rim of his glass, “Hm?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.
She nibbled her lip, avoiding his eyes as she let out a soft breath, “Well – he did. I didn’t – uh… he didn’t get me off.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry sounded in complete disbelief before throwing his head back with a laugh.
Claire blushed red in embarrassment and rolled her eyes, “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not!” Harry laughed, shaking his head, “Holy shit, I can’t believe this guy?! He didn’t even get you off and then has the nerve to ghost you?!”
She took another sip, “Well, yeah.”
“He’s literally such a dick, what the hell…” Harry mumbled, “So was he just like… bad or anything?”
Claire’s red cheeks didn’t disappear as Harry continued the subject and she let out a shuddery breath, “I mean, not really. Although actually, yes. He tried, I think.” The more Claire thought about it, the more she hesitated. Sighing out, she forced Harry a small smile, “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does, though. Who the fuck does he think he is.”
Harry’s anger was sort of infectious and she felt the fire in her chest, “You know what? Yes. You’re right. It does matter. Because I pulled out all my tricks, you know? Even gave him head! He came twice!” She rambled and Harry’s eyes widened. Claire let out a sigh, “I just want – you know?” She used hand gestures now and Harry watched intently, “What?” He asked in confusion.
Claire put her glass of wine down on the coffee table with a slight slam, “I just want a fucking guy to just… grab me! Like – “ She pressed her lips together, “just someone to throw me around, have his fucking way with me, shut me up. Make it rough, you know?”
It was Harry’s turn to get red cheeks as he listened to Claire explaining her sexual desires. She seemed lost in her head, sighing again with tense shoulders, “And just claim me?! I don’t know, just like fucking take me and kiss me a-“
Claire couldn’t finish her sentence before feeling Harry’s lips on hers. He had lunged forward at her, near knocking her backwards as his mouth was on hers. Claire yelped in surprise at the short kiss. Harry was panting as he pulled back, only an inch or two. His wine-stained lips brushed hers.
“W-What are you doing?” Claire murmured.
“God, just shut up.” Harry groaned, watching Claire’s wide eyes as he grabbed her waist and yanked her body on top of his. Claire near flew through the air, gasping in surprise as she found herself perched up on Harry’s lap with her thighs on each side of his. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths, hands bracing herself on his shoulders as she stared down at him.
His eyes were dark and deep, lust dripping from him as he sinfully slipped his hands up her covered thighs. They stared at each other for just a moment before Harry grabbed the back of her head to pull her down and reconnect their lips.
A moan from Claire got muffled against his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders before moving into his hair, cupping his jaw and sliding into his neck. She touched wherever she could reach, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her form to keep her tightly pressed into his chest. A tug on her hips made her scoot up on his lip, her mouth parting at the bulge in his sweatpants.
“Fuck.” Claire moaned, pushing her tongue into Harry’s mouth. Claire reciprocating was something Harry could’ve only dreamed of. Everything she had been describing was exactly what he had been wanting to do for weeks now, but felt too unsure to do so. He didn’t want to scare her off, yet now he felt fucking unhinged.
The moment his fingers tugged at the jumper covering Claire’s body, she caught on. Her blonde hair flew around as they broke apart and she tugged it off, leaving her in one of his shirts.
“Fucking finally.” Claire moaned as Harry pulled her hips down on his and her head rolled back on her shoulders, “Please – oh god…” She was bucking back into him, hips sensually rocking in wave-like motions to stimulate him. Harry felt the heat radiating from her core, his head dropping back on the couch, “Jesus.” He hissed in bliss.
He lifted his head again, brushing his lips over her pulse-point, “Should we go to the bedroom?”
“Uh-huh.” Claire panted, “Please, I need you.”
A surge of confidence shot through Harry, “Yeah?”
Claire wrapped her fingers in his hair, “Yes.” She whispered, “So bad.”
Harry’s lips nipped on her neck, “Do you need me or do you just need to get fucked?”
“You.” Claire spoke without missing a beat, “Been wanting this for so long.”
Harry pulled back with surprise written all over his face, “What? Really?”
“Yes.” She chuckled. Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything? I-I’ve liked you for months.”
“I know.”
His cheeks turned pink again and Claire smiled in amusement, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. Harry swallowed thickly, “Y-You know? And you never said or did anything? Kept going on dates with other guys?”
“Well, I could’ve been wrong.” Claire shrugged, “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself and ruin our arrangement or ruin anything for Atlas.”
Harry was about to say something but Claire beat him to it, biting her lip and brushing her hair over her shoulder. Harry’s eyes dropped to the faded lovebite on her neck and his throat tightened as Claire batted her lashes, “Besides, it was funny to see you a little jealous.”
“Played me, hm?” Harry growled, tangling a hand in her hair and Claire gasped at the tight hold he had on her scalp, pulling her to the side a little as his mouth latched onto the still existing hickey. Claire’s eyes rolled back, her hips bucking on their own accord as he deepened the bruise, claiming her. She was ruining her underwear, a sob stuck in her throat from how desperate she was and how badly she needed him.
“Still funny?” Harry licked over the fresh bruise, throbbing and angry purple to disturb Claire’s skin. His fingers dug into her hip, “Answer me.”
“F-Fuck, no.” Claire panted, “God, Harry, please.”
He pulled her hips again, dragging her up his growing cock as he exhaled a shaky sigh. Claire blinked her eyes open, somehow sensing his hesitance, “Are you okay?” She questioned softly, cupping his cheeks. Her nose bumped his and Harry puckered his lips for her to give him a gentle kiss.
“Yeah.” He rasped, “I might – uh… be a little rusty. ‘S been a while.”
Claire nodded, “Okay.”
Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “No, it’s like been… years.” He mumbled the last part, too embarrassed to actually say out loud. Claire froze on top of him, staring at his eyes which refused to look back at her, “Wait, are you serious? You haven’t had sex in years?”
“Yep.” He exhaled, “It’s, uh… well, I’ve been with women after Astrid, just not many. Had a few one night stands and it just… well, didn’t really do it for me. And I just stopped then, focussing completely on raising Finn and then it didn’t happen anymore.”
Claire was quiet for a moment, taking in the information before she nodded, “Okay, that makes sense. But you… masturbate?”
“Mhm.”
“And… do you want this?” She checked. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Fuck, yes. Wanted this for weeks.”
“Weeks?”
He flicked his eyes up, “Months, actually.”
Claire kissed him, “Take me to bed, Harry.”
He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Claire underneath her thighs to pick her up. She was astounded at his strength. She had seen Harry shirtless by the pool and had seen him in shirts all the time with exposed arms. She had never witnessed him working out or anything, but he was strong enough to not blink while carrying her up the stairs.
“We’re gonna have to be quiet.” He murmured into her neck, “Don’t want to wake our boys.”
“Definitely not.” Claire agreed.
Harry’s foot kicked open the door of his bedroom, “What I meant is you’re going to have to be quiet.” He quipped with a sly smirk as he dropped Claire on the mattress. She watched him, standing at the foot of the bed to rip off his shirt and leave him topless. Claire’s thigh quivered at the sight of his muscular body and the many tattoos. His abs flexed as he moved and she was mesmerized.
Harry felt another boost of confidence at the hungry look in Claire’s eyes. She laid on her beck and he took her ankle, sliding off the huge sock he had given her before moving over to the other foot, “How do you want it?”
Claire wanted to moan. She tipped her head back with closed eyes, biting her lip, “Hard.” She whimpered, “Deep.”
Harry chuckled, “A little greedy, hm?”
After taking off her socks, he tugged at the leg holes of her sweatpants. Due to the size of the clothes, they easily slipped off of Claire’s hips and thighs, easy for Harry to take off. Every inch of her legs became visible to him, as did the red thong she was wearing. His mouth watered, chucking the sweatpants over his shoulders before climbing on top of her.
Claire parted her legs immediately, arms reaching out to pull him into her. She hungrily kissed him, tangling a hand back in his hair as her legs curled around his thighs to keep him close, close enough to feel him between her thighs. With the disappearance of her sweatpants, she felt him much more clear, rubbing against her pussy.
Harry was hard as a rock, so turned on by her and this moment and the way he had imagined this. He had never been the most spontaneous person – something Astrid loved to complain about – so it took him a lot of courage to just grab Claire and hope for the best. He didn’t want to scare her off or cross any boundaries, and somehow they didn’t really know each other on a level that he knew if this was all okay or not.
But the way she whimpered in his mouth and desperately pulled at him, was enough proof that she needed him badly. And according to her, it was him she needed. No one else.
Claire got impatient, reaching for his hand to bring it between them. She left it at that, handing the reigns over to Harry. His cheeks turned slightly pink and with their lips still brushing together in kisses, Harry nervously skimmed his fingers over the hem of Claire’s panties.
She shuddered, holding her breath, “God – Harry, get on with it.” She pleaded. His eyes closed with a guttural moan, slipping his fingers inside her underwear to stroke between her folds with the rough pads of them. Claire immediately squeaked and jumped in sensitivity of the touch and Harry latched his lips onto her neck again to silence himself.
His fingers moved up and down to feel her, underwear tenting around his hand as he felt her so wet and warm for him, it could make him cry. Slick, dripping pussy as Claire opened her legs wider to allow him more room. It spread her for him, letting his fingers graze over every ridge and bump she had until he settled the pads of his fingers on her clit.
She gasped desperately, her legs so tense and her entire body so worked up. She wasn’t sure if she was hurting him with the firm grip on his hair, but she needed something to ground herself. Arching her back up, she whined, “F-Fuck me. Please.”
Harry groaned again, a sound that went straight between Claire’s legs as he kept touching her clit. He rubbed circles to arouse her more, to get her all wet and open. Harry knew he was rather well-endowed and even though Claire had sex on a much more regular basis than him, it would be presumptuous to assume the guy who couldn’t get her off last week was anywhere near his size.
“Need to get you ready.” Harry mumbled into her neck, lifting his head and finding the strength to look in her eyes. It hit him like a sledgehammer, the look she sent him. Horny, desperate, near crying for him. Her eyes glazed over, her lips in an inviting, swollen pout and her cheeks flushed.
“I am.” Claire breathed out, “So ready. P-Please.”
Harry bit his lip, “’M not teasing you here, Claire. You’ll thank me for it.” At that, he grabbed one of her hands to guide it to his crotch, inviting her to touch him. Claire did so without hesitation, panting out as she fought with the elastic band of his boxers before finally getting her hand in. She paused immediately, eyes flicking up and widening dramatically, “Wow.”
“Yeah.” Harry smirked arrogantly, “Still think you’re ready?”
Her hand felt small around the girth of his erection, stroking curiously from thick base to swollen tip. If there was anything Harry knew, it was that he was fucking ready for her.
Claire let out a shuddery exhale as her head thudded back into the mattress, “Yes, please – I can’t wait. I need you.” She panted, restlessly writhing on the mattress, “I need you inside of me, I need it to hurt. I can take it.”
“Holy shit.” Harry cursed, bucking his hips into her hand. He stared at her, losing his sense of hesitation as he licked his lip, “You have to tell me if I need to stop, okay?”
“Uh-huh. Promise.”
“Good girl.” He whispered, removing his hand from in between her legs. He quickly brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth to get them clean, his tongue swirling around casually before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Claire was fucking dumbfounded.
Harry jumped off the bed, rummaging one of his drawers as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “Are you going to tie me up?” She sounded almost hopeful and Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I like having your hands in my hair. ‘M looking for a condom.”
“Right.” Claire took it upon herself to slip out of the shirt she was wearing and then remove her underwear to leave her completely naked. She laid on Harry’s dark blue sheets, staring up at the beamed ceiling of his house as Harry grumbled under his breath, closing the drawer to open another, “Found it!” He cheered.
He turned around in triumph but his smile quickly dropped as he laid eyes on a naked Claire. His throat ran dry, seeing the length of her torso, the dips of her ribs and her chest. Full, firm tits and hardened nipples sitting up and waiting to be taken into his mouth. The stretchmarks on her thighs, the lines of her underwear denting her skin and some faded tan lines gracing her.
“So fucking beautiful.” Harry sighed, slowly walking over to her. The pace had slowed a little bit and was less frantic now as he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes drag over her. Where Claire assumed she’d feel shy, she actually felt confident. Harry’s eyes studied her and he looked mesmerized. He wasn’t judging any part of her, he just wanted to see her.
Harry exhaled shakily and shook his head to himself, “Should’ve done this way sooner.”
“I would’ve let you.” Claire teased. Harry smirked slightly as he took it upon himself to open up the square foil of the condom. He dropped his boxers, Claire’s eyes widening and her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing up and standing up tall.
“Oh my god.” She whimpered when he shortly stroked himself before fiddling with the condom. “Wait!” Claire squeaked. Harry paused and his brows raised, “What is it?”
Claire swallowed, her eyes glued to his erection, “I want to suck you off.”
“Fuck, no.” Harry breathed, shaking his head sternly as he rolled the condom down his shaft, “If you take me in your mouth, I’m gonna cum immediately.”
Claire wanted to protest but Harry was already hovering over her, knees kicking her legs apart to allow him room. Goosebumps rose over her body at his closeness, his nose continuously brushing into hers as he had one hand around his base to guide towards her.
“Still okay?” He whispered and Claire let out a soft moan, “Yes, yes.”
“Still think your little pussy can take me?”
Her eyes shot open as a tingle of arousal ran down her spine. She bucked up while biting down her lip, somehow not expecting Harry to say anything like that. Claire fought for air, “Yes.” She rasped again, “Please.”
The second she felt Harry’s blunt tip against her opening, Claire focussed on relaxing. She attempted to spread her legs wider for him, focussing on not tensing up any of her muscles as he held the eye contact. Both their mouths opened in a breathless whine as he pushed in. He felt her walls rippling around him, fighting the intrusion for a moment. Hesitation flashed over Claire’s face for a brief second until she breathed through it, her eyes rolling back as her head lolled to the side from the stretch.
“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” Harry lowly commented, taking his sweet time in inching forward to fill her up. Claire was panting, her nails digging into his back as she felt the burn between her thighs. He was everywhere, and he wasn’t even fully in yet. Harry paused for a few seconds before rocking in again to get deeper. Claire bit her lip with a high moan escaping her lips.
“Quiet.” Harry whispered, kissing her shortly. She nodded frantically, “I-I know, fuck – you’re so big.”
“You can take it.”
Claire arched, Harry holding onto her waist before sliding his hand up to play with her nipple. He cupped her breast, giving a squeeze before using his thumb to tease her. He used his other hand to grip the bedding, holding himself up on his elbow.
“Fuck.” He whimpered when he finally bottomed out. Harry relaxed slightly, feeling his hips flush to Claire’s thighs. His cock twitched inside of her, a tight fit between her snug, wet walls. She was panting underneath him, the sight so erotic. He couldn’t help himself when he let go of her breast and grabbed her throat instead, giving a light squeeze while kissing her.
He swallowed down her moans as he started moving, rearing back about halfway before rocking in again. He kept the pace slow and gentle for now to let her adjust, and their tongues roamed each other’s mouths in the meantime. Harry was sure to have marks down his back from her nails as Claire clawed at him.
“Okay?” Harry checked breathlessly as he brushed his lips over hers. “Yes.” Claire confirmed, “You can go harder.”
Harry sighed, “Thank god.” And then he picked up his pace and the strength of his thrusts. The breath got knocked out of Claire’s lungs with each drop of his hips on hers, nudging up a spot so deep inside it felt near unbearable yet she still wanted more.
Harry shifted his hips, scooting closer as his lips were on her neck and he buried his face in her throat. “God, you feel so good.” He moaned, “Such a fucking tight cunt for me.”
With the constant shifting in his position, it didn’t take Harry long to find her g-spot. Claire jolted up with a high whine the moment his tip brushed up her front wall, and her legs spasmed. He could feel her gushing slightly as her muscles clamped around him tightly.
“Oh my god!” Claire moaned, causing Harry to slap his hand right over her mouth, “Keep it down.” He hissed, holding his hand to muffle her moans. A tear escaped her eye as he kept pounding her into the mattress in a murderous pace, just like she had asked him to.
“Am I getting you close, baby?” He near taunted, sweat pearling at his hairline and a smirk gracing his pink lips at the sight of her wrecked state, “Already?” He added.
Claire managed to nod and he tutted her, “Good. Found your sweet spot, didn’t I? Right…” He brought his hips back before thrusting sharply, “there?”
Claire’s eyes rolled back as she shook uncontrollably, another wave of squirt wetting Harry, who moaned at the feeling and the sight, “Fuck yes, get wet on my cock, hm? Need you to cum for me, Claire. You fucking deserve it.” He put force behind his words and power into his hips, relentlessly fucking into her.
He kept his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Claire sobbed as she was on the edge. Harry thought about it. Teasing her, torturing her. But her eyes were watery, her nails denting his skin and her pussy so good for him. He allowed her to cum. With two more deep thrusts, Claire convulsed. A scream ripped through her chest, muffled by Harry’s hand as he fucked her through the orgasm. Claire’s legs clenched around him as she arched and writhed.
“’S good, that’s good.” Harry praised, kissing away her tears, “Fuck, that’s so good. Y’feel so fucking amazing, cumming on my cock like that. Such a good girl.”
Claire whined against his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist to pull at his arm. Harry let go, letting Claire desperately inhale the breath her lungs so badly needed. She coughed slightly from the gagging, wheezing in air as her body trembled in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry’s thrusts had turned into gentle grinding motions, smirking down at her, “Feel good?”
“Oh my god.” Claire whimpered, still shuddering, “S-So good. Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”
They both slowed down a little, Harry’s cock painfully twitching inside of her. Claire blinked her eyes open, “Can you still keep going?”
“Mhm.” Harry swallowed, “Little more. I think I could get you to cum again.”
She smiled, biting her lip, “That would be great.”
He kissed her, smiling against her lips. His heart fluttered as she ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a little. Harry hummed against her lips, still inside of her, “I’m afraid I’m obsessed with you.”
“Same.” Claire breathed back without a thought, her eyes exuding warmth and comfort as she stared up at him. A slight clench of her pussy brought Harry back to his mission of the night. Getting her off again.
Without warning, he lifted up on his arms and slid back, slipping from her. Claire gasped at the loss of contact, watching dazedly as Harry leaned down between her legs and his hot mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh my god." Claire breathed, hips jolting up as he licked at her, tongue wiggling between her pussy lips and up to her clit to give a harsh suck. Claire bit her lip, “H-Harry…” She moaned.
He hummed back, sliding the flat of his tongue up her cunt before sitting up again. He licked around his lips, tasting her before tapping her thigh, “Are you gonna ride me?”
Claire was still catching her breath as she swallowed, “I don’t think my legs work.”
Harry chuckled, biting his lip, “Won’t have to do anything. Just get on top of me.” He urged her and Claire nodded, letting him help her as they switched positions. Much like on the couch, Claire straddled him. The wet of her pussy pressed into the base of his cock, grinding softly as they indulged in another making-out session.
Harry held her hair back and had one hand on her ass, cupping the flesh and squeezing, urging her to grind into him. When he felt like Claire was too scared to fully sit down on him, he slapped her ass and she gasped, no longer holding herself up.
“So beautiful.” Harry whispered, head popped up on a few pillows as Claire hovered over him. They shared little kisses as he urged her hips up to sink down on him. “God – fuck.” Claire whimpered as she took him, slowly sitting down on his cock and feeling him in a different angle.
“Good, good.” Harry praised, his eyes closing as her warm cunt swallowed him, “So fucking good.” It sounded like a slur and both took a moment to adjust again.
“Hands behind your back.” Harry instructed in a strained voice, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”
Claire quickly obliged, depending on Harry’s arms to hold her a little upright. She was leaned completely over him, face hovering over his. Harry held one hand in the back of her neck with her hair in a makeshift ponytail, and held his other hand around her throat to keep her head tilted up.
With Claire’s arms behind her back, she was completely folded up for him and she loved it. She could feel her wetness seeping from her pussy, making a mess of Harry’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, hardly paying it any attention before he started fucking up into her.
The position made Claire gasp, her body going lax for a moment before the pleasure consumed her and she let herself get used by Harry. He was so insanely deep like this, it was almost painful but in the best way. She’d be sore, for sure. She’d feel him for days, the way he stretched her and claimed her. God, it was everything she had craved.
“Holy shit – Claire,” Harry panted, “I need you to cum again.”
“Uh-huh.” She managed to choke out, “Please, it’s so good.” Her eyes watered again and Harry groaned softly, staring at her. They kissed again, his hand no longer on her throat but affectionately cupping her cheek as her tongue slipped into his mouth.
It was like he needed that moment before turning into a full animal. Holding both hands on the makeshift ponytail, he gave her a sharp tug to have her staring up at the ceiling. With Claire folded back in half and her hands still behind her back, Harry was relentless in the way his hips snapped up and his cock moved inside of her wet pussy.
“O-Oh god, Harry!” Claire squeaked, “I’m gonna cum. So hard, fuck.” Her words were jumbled and stuttering, her eyes tightly screwed shut as her second orgasm washed over her. She was quiet this time, unable to get out a sound or a word. Harry let go of her hair and Claire dropped her face in the crook of his neck, panting out desperately as she clenched and shuddered and convulsed around him.
Harry’s eyes rolled back at the feeling, “Shit, oh god.” He cursed, sliding both hands down to her ass to knead her and keep her firmly pressed to him. He grabbed the flesh, spreading her cheeks and rolling her back down onto him as he finished inside of the condom. He was sweaty and clammy, and Claire was sprawled out on top of him without the ability to move.
Both stayed like that for a moment. Claire shuddered every so often, her muscles tensing after two harsh orgasms as Harry was melted into the bed with her on top of him. They shared gentle caresses, his fingers dancing over her spine as she stroked her thumb over his jaw, “Wow.” Claire whispered after a few minutes.
Harry lazily smiled with his eyes closed, “Yeah. Wow. Shit, that was good.”
“Mhm.” She hummed and Harry sighed, “We should clean up a bit, hm? And go to sleep?”
Claire was yawning as she agreed, “Yes.”
Grabbing her hip, Harry gently nudged her off. Claire let him, no strength in her legs as she fell on the mattress next to him. Harry’s cock slipped out of her, softening up inside of the condom and he hissed in sensitivity as he got up and headed into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.
After washing his hands, he went to get Claire. He pulled her up, “C’mon, you need to pee.” He whispered. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, fully naked as Harry helped her into the bathroom and gave her the privacy to use the toilet.
Both brushed their teeth after that and collapsed in the bed. No words were spoken when Harry pulled Claire into his side for her head to rest on his chest and her arms to wrap around him. He cuddled her back, brushing his lips over her forehead, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” She whispered back, giving one more kiss to his neck before falling asleep.
Harry feared that it might be awkward in the morning, waking up with Claire after that. But it wasn’t. If anything, his heart soared as he was woken up with kisses to his chest, leading up to his neck and his jaw as her hand stroked over his side.
He shortly squeezed her body, eyes still closed, “Hey.” He rasped. Claire smiled into his neck, her leg hooked over his hips, “Hi, good morning.”
He kept his eyes closed as he lazily rolled around with her, changing the position until he was cuddled into her side with his face in her neck, “What time is it?”
“The sun’s coming up.” Claire responded in a whisper. Harry’s arms were around her and he inhaled her scent, puckering his lips, “Hmm.”
“Think we woke anyone last night?”
His lips curled into a soft smirk, remembering every second as he let out a breath, “Don’t think so, no. How are you feeling?”
“Good.” Claire whispered, shifting a little in his hold until she cupped his jaw. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her kissing him, a few gentle pecks placed on his lips. He smiled involuntary, staring at Claire who looked giddy and sparkly in the morning.
“This is a nice way to wake up.” He whispered and she hummed, “It sure is.” They were in silence for a bit until Claire took a breath, “So what’s usually for breakfast on Saturdays?”
“Pancakes.” Harry yawned. He gently squeezed her waist, “Wanna help me?”
About ten minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Claire was dressed in her underwear and just a shirt of Harry’s, reaching well over her ass while they roamed around the kitchen to get everything for the pancakes and stealing kisses in between. Harry could hardly focus on the stupid pancakes, constantly having his hands on her and hiking up the shirt to get a peek of what was underneath.
“Harry.” Claire giggled, “The boys will be up soon.”
He stood behind her, pushing her into the countertop a little as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. His lips were on her neck from behind, “We’ll hear.” He whispered, “Just a quickie.”
Claire didn’t say anything, and Harry felt her giving in as she relaxed. He smirked into her neck, “So good for me.” He murmured lowly, bunching the shirt up around her waist. He pulled back a little to stare at her ass, covered by the thin band of lace of the red thong. He bit his lip, grazing his thumb over the fabric, “Let me get a condom.” He whispered.
She whined in protest, grabbing his wrist to keep him right where he was, “No, fuck that. Just do me.” She sighed, “Fuck me bare. I wanna feel you.”
Harry groaned, not needing more convincing than that. He was quick, hooking her thong to the side and pushing his sweats down. He spat down into his hand to lube himself up, guiding between her ass cheeks to find her weeping pussy. Claire leaned over the countertop a bit more to make it easier, and Harry pushed in slowly again.
He watched, the way her fingers gripped around the edge of the countertop, the way her back tensed at the intrusion, the way her head dropped and the way her legs trembled as he entered her again.
“Are you sore?” He whispered, urging her to stand up straighter again so he could wrap his arms around her. They slipped underneath the shirt, palming her tits as Claire leaned her head back on his shoulder, “A bit, but it’s so okay.” She responded. Harry hummed, nipping on her neck as he started fucking her. He was sensitive, early in the morning. His cock was painfully hard and he sighed in bliss of being inside of her again.
The kitchen was silent apart from the steady ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a car driving by every once in a while. They breathed sharply and heavily, but both kept their moans down. The only other thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry’s hips slapping into her ass, fucking her from behind.
It didn’t feel like enough anymore, and after a few minutes he slipped out to turn her around. Grabbing her thighs, Harry easily lifted Claire up on the countertop, lips hovering over one another as he pushed in again. His cock shone in the slick of her arousal, easily sinking back into her pussy as she sat up at the perfect height.
He held one hand on her thigh, hiking it up over his hips as he fucked her quickly and sharp. “Fuck.” Harry choked out a whisper, tugging Claire to the edge to get deeper. She leaned back on one palm, watching him intently as Harry fucked her for his own pleasure. She didn’t mind. Claire was too sore and tired to reach an orgasm, but watching Harry as he neared his own end, was mesmerizing.
No words were spoken, but his jaw went slack and he buried himself deep inside of her when finishing. As Harry felt like he was unable to keep his moans down, he desperately kissed her, spurts of his cum filling Claire on an early, lazy Saturday morning in the kitchen. His fingers dented her hips as his orgasm seemed endless, fucking her bare. She felt amazing and he hadn’t expected anything less.
Both were panting as the ringing in Harry’s ears subsided. He relaxed a little, unclenching his muscles as he stroked up Claire’s sides, “Shit, you didn’t cum.” He panted out. She hummed, “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”
He breathed out a chuckle, it quickly disappearing as he heard a door upstairs. Claire’s eyes widened and Harry glanced around to reach for tissues. He slipped out of her, using the tissues to clean up any spilling of his cum. In an ideal world, he’d watch intently as it oozed out of her swollen cunt, possibly use his mouth on her decently this time.
But they didn’t have time. Footsteps from upstairs hurried down the stairs and he heard the giggling of two little boys as Claire hurried into the downstairs bathroom to clean up and get decent. Harry washed his hands and used a clean cloth to wipe down the countertop.
By the time Claire returned from the bathroom, the sight in front of her warmed her heart. Harry was playing around in the kitchen with Atlas and Finn. And everything just felt so normal. She walked up behind him as he stirred the pancake batter. It didn’t feel weird when she wrapped her arms around his form and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “Can we stay for breakfast?”
Harry glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the softness in her eyes. He smiled and reached back further to bump his nose into hers, “You can stay forever.”
//
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mydearzero · 1 year
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Lisztomania | Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Years after joining the BAU, you thought you'd gotten past your little celebrity-like infatuation with Spencer, the whole reason you applied for the BAU. A case involving the murder of several groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band is bound to prove you wrong.
Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie. If I missed any warnings please tell me!
4.7K words
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It wasn't an everyday occurrence that Spencer would be the one to deliver the profile to the public. He looked a lot more stoic on TV than in real life. You never failed to be amazed by how he could still surprise you over the years. He looked confident, and it was a good look on him.
"-The man we're looking for is between the ages of 25 and 40. He is of an average build. He's likely socially inept and doesn't mingle well with his peers. Please be on the lookout for anybody who fits this description and contact the FBI through the local Police Department. Thank you." 
"Someone's gawking." Emily's words startled you out of your Spencer-induced trance. You crossed your arms and grumbled. 
"No, I wasn't..." You bit the inside of your cheek as Emily pat your shoulder and scoffed a laugh. 
"Sure, you weren't. I gotta give it to you. TV does Boy Wonder well." Emily said as she watched the head of the local Police Department take over the press conference as Spencer left the screen.
"I guess I'm just amazed at how different he looks while doing press. Compared to how he usually carries himself, I mean." You shrugged. Emily turned to look at you, no longer interested in the TV screen. 
"Guess that's the profiler in all of us. You can't help but compare. But you're right. Reid does have a certain je ne sais quoi about him, I suppose." 
_________
That was several months ago. It wasn't until you saw Spencer in front of a classroom that a familiar, uneasy feeling returned to your stomach. Emily was right. He did 'have a certain je ne sais quoi about him'. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was. 
"-Which is why it's crucial we always discuss the details of the COD with the coroner's office. COD being the Cause of Death, of course." Spencer spoke with an air of juvenile enthusiasm. You were glad he still had that part in him, despite everything that happened previous to his teaching.
He finished the class and was about to walk over to where you were leaning against the wall, waiting for him to finish. But when he was nearly done packing his satchel, a small group of college girls formed around his desk. The soft smile he'd directed at you was quickly cut short.
You stared in amazement at the girls' shameless flirting. Spencer had turned this group of brilliant and educated girls into giddy schoolgirls, all by just being himself. They all wanted a piece of him, and you started to have peace with the fact that you didn't blame them. You were in the same boat. 
_________
The final straw was during a case concerning a string of murders involving groupies of an up-and-coming indie rock band. 
"I mean, I get the urge to throw your panties on stage at an attractive man. I do. Even I would've taken the bait with Nick Carter, given the chance. But to follow a random stranger down a dark alley in the hopes of meeting your idol? That seems a bit far-fetched. Girls this age are smarter than that, especially with the media frenzy." JJ flipped through the details described in the case file. 
"There's been several cases of fangirls going to great lengths to get what they want from their idol. The earliest case would probably be with Hungarian composer Franz Liszt in 1841. 
The term 'Lisztomania' came about in 1844, describing an intense level of hysteria demonstrated by fans, a bit like the treatment of celebrity musicians today – but in a time not known for such musical excitement. 
A more recent example would be Beatlemania, or even the so-called 'Bieber Fever' or 'One Direction Infection'. There have been several studies that explain this behaviour, but I won't get into that." Spencer trailed off. 
"I know someone else who had a case of that. But I think that was just called a hard-on." JJ joked, jabbing at Spencer's short-lived fling with Lila Archer over ten years ago. Spencer grumbled something along the lines of "Can we please let that go," but it fell on deaf ears. 
"It's still strange they would follow someone down the alley unless the person they're following has been established in the girls' minds as someone with authority, like a crew member connected to the band," Rossi mentioned. 
"Garcia, look into all the current members of the band's crew along with the people working at the venues. We're going to need you at the scene, too. There's a lot of social media involved. Thank you. Wheels up in 30." Hotch stood up, signalling the meeting was finished.
You walked with Emily back to the bullpen, Spencer following close behind. 
"You know, I get it. There's something attractive about a man with a platform, even if you put him on that pedestal yourself, to begin with." Emily said as you leaned against her desk.
"Yeah, for sure. It doesn't have to be a pop star or actor. A celebrity, even. Could be anybody under the right circumstances." You agreed. You could see the appeal in having an unrelenting devotion to someone like that. 
You put Spencer on a pedestal like that, in a way. You watched as he gathered his things into his go-bag. You knew he was a flawed person, like anybody. Yet, in your eyes, all his problems could be explained or ignored. You didn't notice the curious glance Emily sent your way. 
While on the jet, you contemplated the case. Would you have fallen for the ruse? Maybe if you had been a bit younger? You'd had your own little celebrity obsessions. You wouldn't have ruled it out if free tickets and a meet & greet were in the picture. 
It was a quick but convoluted catch once the profile was made. Thank you, Penelope. The UnSub was most likely one of the band's crew members who used to date the bassist. They'd broken up due to an increasing number of groupies getting in the way of their relationship. Go figure she'd go and murder them. 
The catch happened right in time with the start of the show, the bustling crowd missing all of the mayhem that had gone down backstage due to the support act. How the gigs hadn't been cancelled yet was beyond you. 
"You can stay and watch the show from the VIP area if you want. It's the least we can do, really. Though, maybe ditch the FBI gear." The lead singer had a charming smile. You could see how the crowd waiting for him could be captivated by his energy. 
After Hotch checked with the hotel and pilot, the team decided to take the band up on their invitation. After a quick shower and change at the hotel, you drove back to the venue in groups. 
You were escorted to a barricaded area near the front of the stage. The energy of the crowd was exhilarating. An electric tension hung in the air as the 30-minute change-over between the support was filled with soft music from a playlist. 
JJ and Rossi came bearing gifts, both carrying several drinks to hand out to the team. You thanked them as you took one, taking a sip of the ice-cold drink. You deserved to relax and enjoy a night like this after the gruelling case. 
You watched unabashedly at Spencer, red overhead lights casting down on his face. You'd like to see how he'd do on the stage, perhaps in an alternate universe, and with a different wardrobe. He was undoubtedly eclectic enough to pull off the whole rock star gig. 
He felt your gaze and made eye contact, working his way past a wildly gesturing Emily as she told a story. He lightly grabbed your upper arm when he reached you. 
"Hey." You saw his mouth move, but his words got lost under the chattering crowd. You smiled and leaned closer. 
"Hi! Fancy seeing you here!" You shouted. Spencer winced as he laughed. You'd obviously overestimated the volume of the crowd. You mouthed a quick apology before taking another drink. 
You nearly choked when Spencer leaned even closer, invading your personal bubble (that was already narrow), to talk directly in your ear. 
"Did you know that typical movement behaviour at large events like these increases the risk of spreading infectious diseases?" You bit your lip as you stopped yourself from laughing. Leave it up to Spencer to break the tension like that. 
"It makes sense, I guess. Lots of people, lots of bodily fluids. Kinda gross, now that I think about it," you replied. 
Just as he was about to speak again, the lights dimmed, and screams filled the stadium. You gave him a small smile, which he returned, afterwards turning to look at the show. He stood behind you for the majority of the show, and while you would've loved to admire him in the gorgeous lighting a little longer, you couldn't have asked for a better person to have rubbed up against you for an hour and a half. 
After the show, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ decided to return to the hotel for some much-needed rest ahead of their early flight the following day. The rest headed out to a bar just around the corner of the venue. You walked quickly, the cold of the outside being a jarring change from the heat at the concert. 
You were a few drinks in when Penelope brought up a subject you'd somehow managed to avoid all these years.
"If I hadn't joined the FBI, I would've liked to be some sort of celebrity," She mentioned, taking another sip through her straw. 
"Considering the type of psychos we encounter on a daily basis, I'd rather be less known, not more." Emily shuddered. You were quick to agree. Although fame was attractive on some level, you wouldn't want to risk situations like those you'd witnessed these last few days in exchange. 
"What made you want to become an agent in the first place?" Penelope turned to you before continuing. "I didn't have much of a choice, to be honest. It was jail or the FBI, and I'm not jail material. I mean, look at me!" She gestured wildly to herself. 
You chuckled and decided to pick an opt-out answer. "I just saw it as the right thing to do, you know? Make the world a better place, even if it's only little by little." You shrugged.  
Spencer squinted as he ran his eyes over your face. "Bullshit." He determined. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his callout. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned genuinely. Sure, you hadn't been entirely honest, but it wasn't a lie. 
"You're lying, I can tell. You do that thing with your face. Besides, that's the most basic answer ever. Surely a person with as much integrity as you do would have a better reason than a moral superiority complex." Spencer stated matter-of-factly. You gaped at his accusation. 
"He's right, though. You have no connection to the Bureau. Reid is a wunderkind, Garcia is basically an ex-con, and I'm a child of nepotism. What made you apply? And for the BAU of all places?" Emily wondered out loud. 
You recoiled as you realised there was no getting out of this. If you were going to dance around the subject, Penelope would get too curious, anyways. She'd have your application and its details pulled up in no time. That, along with cross-referencing the BAU with your college, it wouldn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened. 
"I actually followed a lecture on sexual sadism and the Mill Creek Killer back in college that made me wonder if I'd be cut out for it." You admitted, omitting some key details. 
The one secret you'd sworn to take to your grave was that Spencer was the sole reason you were with the FBI in the first place, having followed one of his guest lectures a few years back. 
He hadn't even left the room before you'd turned in your online application to the Academy. 
"Why not mention that in the first place? God, no need to be so secretive about it." Penelope whined. You didn't answer as you tentatively sipped your drink, feeling busted for no reason. 
You glanced up to look at an overly smug and amused Spencer. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you realised you were most definitely caught. 
"You know, when Hotch first introduced us to you, I thought I recognised you from somewhere. But the memory I have of that lecture is actually overshadowed by this kid who was also there, Nathan Harris. He ended up killing some prostitutes. But now that you mention it, you did go to Georgetown, didn't you?" Spencer knew he was right. He just wanted to see how you were going to talk yourself out of this one. 
"Oh, you gave that lecture? I never realised..." It was a pathetic lie, and there was no hiding it. Emily snorted out loud. She'd clocked your little 'thing' for Spencer long ago, you knew that much. 
"Aww, you looked up to Spencer? That's so cute!" Penelope gushed. That sure was one way to put it. You made a face that must've said as much. 
"What, you didn't look up to me? I'm offended. Here I thought I was your favourite professor." Spencer joked. He excused himself as he walked to the bathroom. Great timing, as it gave you time to rid your cheeks of the flush you were sporting. 
"Be honest with me. And don't bother lying because we've all seen the heart eyes you throw at Pretty Boy. Were you genuinely interested in joining because of the subject matter? Or..." Emily encouraged you to answer. 
You sighed as you brought a hand to your face. "Honestly? I wasn't sure if I wanted to be him or be with him. But at least I signed up for the class out of genuine interest! There were plenty of girls there that were there purely for the hour-long eye candy!" You defended yourself. 
"And you applied for the Academy after the lecture? At least it must've been interesting." Penelope wondered out loud. 
"Actually..." You winced. "He'd hardly even been done with his introduction before I'd filled in the online application. But I was very single, okay? And he'd already built up this celebrity status on campus." It felt nice to admit to it after years of harbouring it. 
"Oh! You naughty little fangirl!" Penelope exclaimed. 
"I'm not a fangirl! It's been years!" You groaned. You took it back. It didn't feel nice. You should've kept it to yourself. 
"Who are you a fangirl of?" Spencer asked, putting a new glass in front of Emily and sitting back down by your side. 
"You! She's a total groupie." Penelope betrayed you. You shot her a nasty look, but it went ignored by her drunken, self-satisfied glee. 
"Is that so?" Spencer turned to you with his eyebrows raised. 
"Oh yeah, total Reidiac. You should give her an autograph." Emily winked. Spencer laughed and shook his head at their antics. 
The conversation moved on, but you felt the dynamic between Spencer and you had changed, even when unspoken. When Penelope and Emily were caught up discussing cats, Spencer leaned against your side, whispering in your ear once more. Unlike last time, he didn't break the tension, even when telling another fact. 
"Garcia called you my groupie earlier. Do you know the textbook definition of the term 'groupie'?" His voice was huskier than usual, coated with the alcohol and late hour. You shook your head timidly, urging him to continue. 
"A groupie is typically explained as a young woman who regularly follows a celebrity, especially in the hope of having a sexual relationship with them." His lip brushed against your ear as he whispered the words. A cold chill went down your spine at his insinuation. 
"You're no celebrity, Spence." You answered apprehensively. He didn't move, still leaning into your side, out of sight. You couldn't gauge his expression. 
"Maybe not in the classic sense of the word. But I have a Wikipedia page. Surely, that amounts to some celebrity status." He joked. You closed your eyes, tension slowly disappearing after the vibe of the conversation changed back to casual banter. 
Was he insinuating what you thought he was? 
You got your answer as soon as the four of you headed to the hotel. You bid your goodbyes to Emily and Penelope before turning to put the keycard in the door to your room. You heard a couple of doors close, and just when you turned the handle, there was a hand on your shoulder, pushing you inside and closing the door. You whipped around, only to be faced with Spencer. 
"Spenc-" 
"You deflected earlier." He interrupted. 
"Deflected what?" Your heart was racing. Whether from the shock of his sudden intrusion or the proximity, you weren't sure. 
"The definition of a groupie. And how Garcia is right, you totally are one." 
You gaped at the insinuation. 
"Don't look shocked now! You are totally one of those girls who audit my class." He grinned. 
"You wish! I'll have you know you were scrawny at best when you gave that one lecture I attended." You huffed, crossing your arms. 
"Were scrawny? Past tense?" Spencer egged you on. 
"Shut up. You know you've built up some muscle since then. Hell, maybe you even grew a couple of inches." You rolled your eyes. 
Spencer decided to ignore the comment and put his hand in his pocket, fishing for something. He finally pulled something out, looking way too smug for his own good. "I brought a Sharpie. You know, for your autograph." 
Fine. If he wasn't going to stop this ridiculous teasing, you were going to cross the 'groupie' line. 
"Oh my god! I like, totally want your autograph, Spency!" You started, looking him dead in the eyes as your hands made their way to the hem of your shirt. 
"Will you sign my tits?" You challenged, lifting your top far enough to expose your bra to its fullest extent. 
Spencer obviously hadn't expected that, struggling to come up with a quick-witted response. You shrugged as you took the shirt off. 
"I see. You require a larger surface area. I get it. Big ego, bigger signature." Spencer finally broke when you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. 
"Hey, hey. Stop. I can sign them like this just fine, sweetheart." You knew he was simply going along with the rockstar act, but the nickname sent blood rushing to your cheeks either way. 
"Okay, hot shot." You smirked, pushing your chest out. He hadn't expected you to actually let him sign your chest. He scrambled to take the cap off. He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. 
"Stand still. You want it to come out perfect, don't you?" 
You held your breath when he brought the Sharpie up to your breasts. You looked at his face as he appeared laser-focused on giving you the best autograph of your life. Why was it that such a stupid joke felt like the most sensual experience of your life? 
The tip of the Sharpie tickled as it danced across your chest. He finished the signature with a dot on the I in Reid. 
"There, perfection." He whispered, but his eyes were no longer glued to your scantily clad upper body. You searched his face for hesitation but only found his determined gaze settled on your parted lips. 
He made eye contact as if asking permission. You'd barely nodded before his hands cupped your face, and lips were on yours, sucking all the air out of your lungs. His body pressed up against your own, frantically shedding the layers keeping you separated. You kept kissing him while desperately reaching for his belt. 
You hadn't noticed you'd slowly made your way to the bed in the back of the hotel room until Spencer pulled away to remove his tie. You let yourself fall onto the sheets, ridding yourself of your bottoms. They got stuck at your ankles as you forgot your shoes. 
"I got it." Spencer's voice was unrecognisably hoarse. He kicked off his own shoes and made his way over to the bed in only his boxers. He tugged at your shoes after undoing the laces and discarded them somewhere in the room. 
You'd never seen a sight quite like Spencer leaning over you as he rested one knee on the bed. He put his hand beside your face and you met his eyes. His head blocked the dim yellow ceiling light, lighting him perfectly from behind. It was ridiculous how angelic he could look, even in these stereotypically sinful circumstances. 
"Are you sure about this?" Spencer asked. Always considerate. What a gentleman.
"I've been sure ever since that stupid lecture, dork." You joked. Spencer smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss under your ear. His breath was hot on your neck as he left a trail of kisses down your neck, down to his crudely placed signature. 
You leaned on your elbows as Spencer reached behind your back to finally unclasp your bra. You let your back meet with the sheets again as he pulled the straps down your arms. You heard him take a deep breath as he took in the sight before him. 
You pulled him down for another kiss, unsatiable now that you'd gotten a taste. His hands reached for your chest and experimentally pinched a nipple. You inhaled sharply through your nose. The combined sensation of his mouth and large hands on your body, as his hips sought more and more friction, was delectable. 
His hands slowly reached further down, toying with the edge of your underwear. 
"Don't tease." You whined, already too riled up. 
"Patience is a virtue," Spencer murmured against the skin of your jaw, hooking his finger under the elastic band. 
"Patience, my ass, Reid. I need you." It came out more desperate than you intended, but it seemed to do the trick. He yanked the underwear down your legs, followed by his own. 
"Condom?" He asked. You shook your head. 
"Don't care. I'm clean, and God knows you are. Wanna feel you." You answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Spencer laughed, taking his cock in his hand and running it through your folds. 
"Have you met yourself? You won't even shake hands, Doct-oh, oh Jesus Christ." Spencer interrupted your banter by sliding inside in one go. You closed your eyes as you pulled him close, begging him to kiss you. 
He slowly started moving as you regained your ragged breath. The low grunts falling from his lips against yours were magical, but you wanted more. Your fingers made their way up to his hair, tentatively tugging at the roots. Your grip tightened at a particularly harsh thrust, and Spencer's response was everything you were searching for. 
"Holy fuck, oh my God- Uh-" His grunts slowly tuned whinier as you kept your grip on his hair. He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing circles in tandem with his thrusts. 
"Look at me, baby." He moaned in your ear. He leaned back, and your eyes fluttered open, though with difficulty. Your instinct was to squeeze them shut with pleasure. He looked ravenous, pupils blown wide, panting with the physical effort. 
You lazily wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to pull him even closer. 
"Shit, Spencer," you moaned as the new angle reached a spot inside you you'd only ever dreamed of. Your eyes squeezed shut again, unable to keep them open. Spencer removed the hand rubbing your clit and moved it to your chin, placing a small kiss on your lips.
"Eyes on me, come on. I know you can do it." He encouraged. Something about his coercive tone let you know there was a side to Spencer you had yet to see. You opened your eyes and were met with the sight of his eyebrows furrowed with effort. 
The noises coming from Spencer sped up along with the desperate pace of his hips. The combination of his whines with yours and the sound of skin on skin was anything but serene. You felt yourself nearing the edge, clawing at his back in an attempt to ground yourself. 
"Spencer! Fuck, oh my god," it was hardly distinguishable what you were saying, mumbles of pleasure stringing together into an unintelligible mess. His cock slid again and again and- you couldn't take it. 
Your hands left his hair in favour of running your nails harshly over his back. Spencer was seemingly a glutton for pain, moaning at the sensation. 
  "I- Shit, I'm gonna cum. D'you want me to pull out?" Spencer's thrust faltered. You knew you had to answer fast. You tightened your grip on him with your legs. 
"Please, Spencer. Please come inside me. Want to feel you cum." You begged. 
"Fuck, okay. Okay. O-" His head dropped down to your shoulder as his unrelenting hips sped up one more time, bringing you both to your high. You felt his cock twitch as your walls tightened around him. 
"Spencer!" You shouted as you came, feeling him spill inside you. 
"So good for me. So gorgeous. Perfect." Spencer mumbled as he peppered you with kisses, hips slowing down as he came down from his high. Your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.  
Spencer carefully pulled out, making sure not to spill anything and soil the sheets. He stepped off the bed and spread your legs, before leaning back down and licking a drop of cum threatening to spill. 
"Shit, Spencer! Too sensitive!" You pushed his head away. He laughed before heading to the bathroom, returning with a dampened towel. 
The nighttime routine that followed felt domestic. You peed, brushed your teeth, ignored the sight of his signature and hickies on your boobs, and headed to bed. 
"Can I borrow your toothbrush?" Spencer asked from the bedroom. He hadn't asked to stay. But then again, you hadn't asked him to leave. You didn't want him to. 
"You just licked your own cum from my vagina, and you ask if you can borrow my toothbrush? Be my guest, Reid." You scoffed, lying down under the sheets. 
"Hey, people have their preferences, okay? Didn't want to overstep." Spencer said as he returned from the bathroom, lying down beside you. 
Against your better judgement, Spencer stayed. You knew the entire team would be up and around, bright and early. But you didn't care. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 
He left early the following morning. You were sure he hadn't had nearly enough beauty sleep. He could nap on the plane, you shrugged. There were no regrets from either party over the loss of sleep. 
You hadn't thought too much about your outfit before heading down to breakfast. An honest mistake one can make when staying up late and getting up early. You were exhausted, let alone hung over. You realized your mistake when the ever-stoic eyes of Aaron Hotchner immediately snapped down to the tank top you were wearing the second you stepped out of the elevator, the words 'Spencer Reid' still obscenely sprawled across your chest, accompanied by several suspicious bruises. 
Your eyes went wide as you followed his gaze, quickly zipping up your hoodie. How could you possibly have forgotten that part? You met Hotch's eyes. Before you could try to babble yourself out of this one, he held up a hand to stop you. "I don't want to know."
You clenched your lips as you nodded. "Noted, bossman."
The small smile tugging at the corner of his lips didn't escape you, and neither did the exchange of money between him and Rossi not 5 minutes later. 
2K notes · View notes
hederasgarden · 15 days
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Something Better
Summary: A chance encounter with your academic rival reminds you there's more to life than looks. Pairing: Scott Miller (Twisters) x F!Plus Size!Reader Word Count: 1.4K  Rating: Mature, 18+ only. College AU. Light angst, body insecurity, heavy petting and kissing.  A/N: For my dearest @clairewritesandrambles based on this ask. Thank you @ryebecca for the beta. Turns out I'm terrible at sticking to the 100 word prompts. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.
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Masterlist ♡ David Corenswet Characters Masterlist
It’s a struggle to escape the press of bodies on the dance floor, the pounding bass thrumming uncomfortably in your chest. You wipe angrily at your face, jaw clenched as you fight to keep the tears at bay. No one seems to notice — everyone is too drunk or high. You could find your friends, but beneath the desire for comfort is the sharp, burning sting of shame. 
You should have known better than to trust Tyler Owens. 
All those sweet words and flirtatious smiles were meaningless to him. In the end, you were just another notch in his belt and the worst part is, that you have no one to blame but yourself. Everyone knew he wasn’t the type for commitment, but you were blinded by his charm and the way his deep green eyes made you feel beautiful. He said you were special and you were just stupid enough to believe him.
Escaping into the cool night air brings you a brief moment of relief. You close your eyes and tilt your head back. 
"Where’s the cowboy?"
The unexpected voice makes you flinch. You don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Only one person ever called Tyler Owens a cowboy.
"Not now, Scott." 
Usually, you didn’t mind going toe-to-toe with him, enjoying the opportunity to match wits with someone as sharp as Scott. Tonight, though, you’re exhausted, and he’s the last person you want to show any weakness to. In class, he was quick to exploit any hint of vulnerability in an opponent.
"Is that all you’ve got?" he taunts. "Spending time with Owens must have really lowered your IQ."
You bite your tongue, curling your hand into a fist. You can’t handle this right now. You can't handle him.
"Just...go away." Despite your best efforts, your voice betrays how you feel — strained and fragile.
He doesn’t listen, of course, the gravel crunching under his feet as he approaches. Your shoulders slump, and a fresh wave of tears escapes. You stare at the ground and wait for the cutting remark Scott's sure to deliver when he sees you like this. When nothing comes, you hesitantly look up, meeting his cool blue gaze. You’re surprised to see a soft furrow between his brows. He almost looks…concerned.
"You're crying." 
It's such an obvious statement from him that you laugh, but it comes out more as a sob and you press the back of your hand to your mouth. Scott steps forward, making an abortive gesture like he means to touch you but thought better of it. He looks past you, the soft curve of his lips tightening into a sharp, displeased line. Then his gaze cuts back to you. 
"Did Tyler do something?" He asks. 
You shake your head. The truth is, you hurt yourself by thinking someone like Tyler would ever want to date you. Why would he, when he had Kate Carter on his arm? She looked beautiful tonight, her honey blond hair curling softly around her delicate features. She was slender and striking in a way you'd never be. She’d be easy to hate if she wasn't so kind and smart.
"He did something," Scott presses.
Just then, the door swings open, and a group of people spills out into the night. A few of them look over, and you’re quick to turn away, hunching your shoulders in embarrassment. It’s bad enough that Scott saw you like this; you don’t need anyone else witnessing it.
Beside you, Scott lets out a sharp huff, his breath escaping through his nose in a rush. Without a word, he grabs you, his long fingers wrapping firmly around your bicep. He pulls you effortlessly to the side of the building, out of view. 
“Sometime happened. You never shut up, and now you’re just…” He trails off, using his free hand to gesture irritably.
You shrug out of his hold and wrap an arm around your middle. You try to steady your voice, but it quivers when you whisper, "It's nothing."  
“Oh, I see,” he responds coolly. “You think you’re better than everyone now because you’re dating the star football player.”
Scott’s accusation is so far off the mark it’s almost laughable, and on any other day, you’d relish the chance to set him straight. But right now, all you want is to disappear.
“Typical,” he mutters. 
A sudden burst of anger flares under your ribcage and you surge forward, jabbing a finger hard into his chest. You’re so close your body brushes his but you don’t care. 
“You want to know what happened?” you ask. “We slept together, but the second someone skinnier and prettier showed up, he acted like I didn’t even exist. And honestly, I can’t even blame him," you continue with a bitter laugh. "Just look at Kate Carter.”
As soon as the words are out of your mouth and you realize what you’ve just admitted, you shrink back against the brick wall, feeling exposed. Scott rolls his eyes, and you tense up, bracing yourself for whatever he is about to say. 
"Kate Carter isn't as smart as us," he says dismissively. "She's a fucking bio major. You think she even took differential equations?”
Of course he didn’t get it. People like Scott and Tyler moved through the world differently than you. “No one’s looking at her transcript  She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, and so are you.”
You freeze and the unexpected compliment hangs in the air between you as you search his expression for any trace of sarcasm. Scott stares steadily back at you and something in your stomach flutters to life, sweeping up your chest in a hot rush. 
“Scott…”
“Don’t make this a thing,” he says quietly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s not a thing.”
He dips his head and then suddenly, he’s kissing you, those soft, plump lips of his sliding against yours almost sweetly. You clutch the front of his sweater, tilting your head back until your nose brushes against his. A quiet moan builds at the back of your throat and Scott surges forward, caging you in between his body and the wall. The rough brick catches against the soft skin of your shoulder but you don’t care, not with the way he’s kissing you.
“Gonna let me in?” he whispers.
Without hesitation, you part your lips, welcoming him into the wet heat of your mouth. He groans in response, grasping your hips. He kisses just like he argues with you in the classroom — relentless in his pursuit, overwhelming you in the best way possible until you yield. This time you want him to win, but you can’t resist trying to outdo him. You draw his lower lip between your teeth and bite down until he grunts.
“Fuck,” he pants, his hands sweeping up and down your sides. 
You cant your hips forward and he grabs the back of your thigh, grinding into you.
“I’m going to take you home,” he promises, mouthing at the side of your neck. "Then I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name.”
You shudder, freeing one of your hands trapped between your bodies and burying it in his thick black curls. A light tug has him nipping at the soft skin of your throat. Everything about him feels so good. It would be easy to lose yourself to this, to him, but you pull back, blinking away the haze of lust. You refuse to repeat your mistake with Tyler. 
“What happens after?” You ask him, breathless. 
Scott blinks, running his tongue over his swollen bottom lip. “After?”
“After we, you know….” That little shadow appears between his brows again. You shift uncomfortably, drawing back. “With Tyler…after, he—”
“We date,” Scott interrupts.
Maybe it’s the kiss or the whirlwind of emotions you’ve experienced tonight, but for the first time, you're at a loss for words with Scott.
“Date?” You repeat dumbly.
“Yes.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing. “Do you require the definition of the word?” He looks half annoyed now, staring down his nose at you. “If you can’t keep up, I’m not sure we can do this.”
“Do what?” 
“Date,” he replies tersely. “You know, you’re killing the mood here.”
“Well,” you sputter, “it’s not my fault you’re a poor communicator.”
Scott rolls his eyes. “This was better when we weren’t talking.”
“Agreed,” you fire back.
“So it’s settled.”
When you nod, Scott grasps your hand and tugs you forward. His long legs make it difficult to keep up but after a few seconds, he seems to notice and adjusts his pace to match yours. He casts a brief glance at you and you see a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, as if his lips were about to part but he thought better of it. 
“What?” You ask, amused.
He shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Okay,” you agree. “Just as long as you’re not making this a thing.”
Scott lets out a small, exasperated sigh and turns away, but not before you catch the smile tugging at his lips.
Send me a request
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gwenphobic · 4 months
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COWBOYS ARE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE.
(arthur morgan x pianist at a saloon!male reader)
a/n; sorry for not posting for so long!! gwen stacy x black cat reader will return but rn i’ve had this worm stuck in my head for a min so hold on on that. STAY with me now, this one is good i swearr
You’ve never found it especially appealing, the way cowboys hold themselves and yip and yell about. The way they loiter and accidentally make themselves family men. It’s always been quite annoying though you imagine it is what you would’ve been had your parents been present. Nonetheless, it is not envy you hold toward them but.. annoyance. Yes, that red warmth in your stomach and heat on your face is pure annoyance. And nothing more. Of course.
Your town is small, of no concern. It would never even be dotted out on a map, it is so unimportant. You’ve always imagined what it would be like to leave but have never had the strength. Your place is here at town saloon, fingers dancing around the keyboard. The man who’d taken you had been saloon owner Pete Carter who’d taken your street urchin mind and managed to shift it into something greater, or well, something that makes money. Perhaps, this is why your faith is so strong.
The heat of the day beamed even on your face and flooded the floorboards of the saloon. You sigh. Still, the saloon will open and still will you play away. An Irish woman came in for she was new to town, new to America in a way so obvious. Not much people were here, only the town drunk and a few of the working girls. You sat down with her as she weeped softly, her curly brown tresses falling into her eyes. Her face was bent and curved to her age. She was a mother, you knew and had seen her son and daughter around town often. Trailing upon her like ducks to a mom. Her son was sweet and her daughter, proper. Both young, you didn’t believe either were a day over 6.
“Sir,” she cried, accent thick in her mouth. You rubbed her back before taking her hands. “Yes?” you replied. The mother sighed as she stopped her tears. “I need to write a letter home, but I’ve made no sense of the alphabet. Please do help me, sir,” she said and prayed, “Please know to write.” She looked as desperate as she sounded. She continued, “My Mam has passed, and I don’t know— I need to send my Da a letter. Oh, please, sir!” You shushed her and went to find a piece of paper. That afternoon you’d spent helping her craft a letter home.
As you sent her off, the saloon wasn’t quite full but neither was it empty. A few sat in drunkenness, others sat in a buzz. Some old, some young. It was a comforting feeling, a saloon not so full but neither so empty. You adjusted yourself when you heard it. The sounds of immature folk coming into town. The hooves of horses didn’t stumble as the clambered onto the dirt road. You could feel your stomach tighten with annoyance. Cowboys. Or rather, outlaws. Nonetheless, both were strangely irritating to you. The leather, the boots and all the self-confidence. Can anyone really blame you for holding such disdain? You roll your eyes and sit on the piano bench, beginning to play a tune.
Eventually, the attendance of the church extends and the more proper day drinkers leave. The last to leave is Old Charles McDonald, the union soldier with a limp and a missing tooth. He’s especially fond of his granddaughter who helps him around. He said, some days, he feels crazy. You remember nearly everyone who comes into the saloon, everyone who shares their tale with you. Why would anyone want to forget such history? You begin to help clean up before the sound of jangling spurs throw you off. You froze, completely froze. You turned around;
And there, your worst annoyances stood, an outlaw with two others trailing just before him.
You hid the grimace and continued to wipe down the windows. He wouldn’t be the last cowboy to come out tonight. You just knew the cowboy was walking with some sense of self-importance. You’d only gotten a glimpse but found yourself reflecting on the man’s looks, body. His sandy blond hair and nice tanned skin. Those shining eyes that you were almost certain were a shade of blue or green. You swallowed. He must be popular with the ladies, you came to the conclusion. He’s attractive, alright? Even you can admit that. You pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, suddenly feeling.. insecure of your appearance. But insecure isn’t the right word, maybe just.. very oddly aware.
“Play a good one,” the man shouted out, his more pale friend snorted while the tanner one huffed. You scowled. You’ll play what you want, not what some insolent outlaw wants to hear. Your fingers find the keys and continue the same tune you’ve been playing. The outlaw can deal with it. Faintly, you hear the drunken footsteps coming closer. The saloon is bustling with business now, outlaws and working girls all circulating about.
“Hey there,” he greeted, his voice was faintly reminiscent of a southern accent. He was pretty, his eyes at least. All green and.. nice. You shook the thought away and returned in a hardened voice, “Hi yourself.” The man looked a little embarrassed if not.. nervous. He looked down, his hat shielding his face. “You, uh, you play real nice,” he complimented and a fill of warm crowded inside your stomach. You returned, “Thanks.” You continued playing as he spoke, “I hope.. Uh, we ain’t causing too much trouble for ya.”
You wanted to say something mean, or snarky. Usually, you would. But staring at this.. outlaw— he’s an outlaw, remember— you couldn’t help but fumbling out, “Oh, don’t worry about it. Y’all ain’t no more trouble than a few drunkards.” He smiled nicely. Really, it was a nice smile if you ignore how beat up his teeth seem to be. “Alright,” he drawled, “good.” The sound of the piano and chattering of the saloon kept the scene from being awkward. “I’m Arthur,” he added like it was an afterthought. You told him your name. “That’s a nice one,” he said and looked as if he was about to say something else before one of his friends called him back over.
“It’s alright,” you said, “go.” Arthur smiled a little brighter and touched your shoulder. “This ain’t the last you’ve seen of me,” he said lightheartedly before stepping back and returning to the bar. You could feel your face all warm, you inhaled. What was that feeling? Hate, maybe. But hate doesn’t make you all flustered like that. He didn’t even do nothing! You grimaced.
It was gonna be a long night.
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harlowhockeystick · 5 months
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9 and 18 with coach!sid please <3
"without ever touching him, how can i be guilty as sin?" & "i can tell when someone wants me" | poetic prompts | warnings: smut (18+ MDNI, i can redo if you don't want smut with these prompts!)
takes place after this fic.
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"girl, quit eye fucking and leave some room for the rest of us. i can tell your fantasizing, but i don't blame you."
"i'm not touching him, so how can i be guilty of anything?" y/n co-workers words snap her out of her daze as she teases back. it was the beginning of an emergency staff meeting, the meaning was unknown and it was causing quite the buzz around the gymnasium. teachers, admin, and athletic staff alike were sitting together asking each other what they'd heard, known, or if they were getting fired. there was a heavy level of anxiety sitting in the room amongst them.
"sorry," y/n mumbled and sitting up straight. her friend chuckled beside her. but she couldn't help but stare, it had been a week since their dinner together, and it was all she could think about. she'd had trouble teaching, would zone out when talking to carter, their scandalous encounter was taking over her life.
"what do you think they're gonna talk about?" the other teacher asked sitting next to her, sipping coffee out of her tumbler and scrolling through emails looking for clues. "i think they're gonna talk about staff relationships."
her words made y/n's stomach drop. did it get out? did someone see her car at his house? did carter say something? did carter find out? it's amazing how many questions can run through the brain in just two seconds.
"i heard that the boys tennis coach, thomas, is having an affair with the girls tennis coach. i think one of the players caught them in the athletic offices but they did something to keep the kid quiet." y/n feels her nerves calm down, but not all that much. her eyes met with sidney's and she felt like he was trying to silently tell her something but she couldn't pick up on it. they weren't that connected.
yet.
moments later the superintendent gets on the mic and announces to faculty that in fact, both the girls and boys tennis coach were let go due to their actions. the boys coach resigned, and the girls coach was fired due to threatening the school district since she didn't do anything wrong and she was a single woman.
she felt a ball coil up inside her stomach as the staff were reminded of the policy: relationships among staff must be brought before the board if they occur within the school year. it was a district policy, to keep drama out of the way, and to keep relationships private to the parties benefit. at least, that was the way it was explained.
-
that meeting was bullshit. sent 10:45 am
y/n's phone pings signaling a text from sidney. she reads it as her students are taking their test. she feels butterflies and anxiety at the same time. her leg bouncing underneath her desk as she plans a reply.
...but what did he mean? was he against the rule, meaning he wanted a relationship? or was it just a waste of time? yes, it was a waste of time.
i know, it could have just been an email. sent 10:48
he never responds, but she gets too busy with other class periods. she gets lost back in time once more, fantasizing about that night. during lunch break spent in her darkened classroom, a bowl of warmed up soup in front of her as she grades papers until the next class comes through.
but she gets lost, in the deep trance of the memory of him. if she thinks really hard she can still feel his tongue sliding against her slick core, she can feel herself coming undone again at the force of his skilled and talented body.
she can feel his calloused but soft hands sliding down her body, grasping at her breasts while he sucks all of the sweet juice that flows out of her. she remembers her back arching off his wooden dinner table while he lapped at her for at least ten minutes straight, before he slid his thick cock inside of her for another ten.
she's taken out of her daydream by the sound of the school bell. she has three minutes to get herself back in order to teach again. she considers assigning today a reading and catch up day...so she can continue to reminisce.
dinner at my place? sent 1:23 pm
hell yes sent 1:24 pm
-
"you're bad at hiding your feelings, y/n." sidney stated, flipping over the steak on the grill and setting his wine glass down on the granite countertop. y/n sat on the barstool across from him, drinking a cocktail she made herself.
"what's that supposed to mean?" she took a bigger swig of the alcohol this time, holding eye contact with him as he leaned onto the countertop with his hands, making himself appear bigger in front of her. it worked.
"i can tell when someone wants me. half the women in that school want me, but you're the only one who went for it." she feels like a crook who was caught. "i know you act like last week didn't happen, but it's all i've been thinking about." now he's standing just inches from her on his back patio, the smell of grilled steak and vegetables filling her brain and the firm but agonizing touch making her go weak.
"it's all i can think about too." his thumb glides across her cheek, his whiskey colored eyes staring into her soul, what it feels like for hours. he bites his lip and she thinks she's gonna pass out.
"tell me what you thought about, maybe we'll reenact it after dinner. can't have you eating cold steak, can i?"
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AITA for not going to my brother's wedding?
I (35F) and my brother (29M) have always had a bit of a rocky relationship. Like, don't get me wrong, I love him, always have, always will. That said, we've been at each other's throats since he was capable of speech, and probably will be until one of us dies of spite.
My brother, let's call him Carter, has been in an on-and-off relationship with Taylor (29F) ever since they were in middle school. Personally, I hate Taylor, and I'm fine keeping it that way. She treats Carter like shit, she's cheated on him more times than I can count, she steals money from him, she is just an awful person to be around. Like, don't get me wrong, Carter's also an asshole, but can you really blame him considering what he has to deal with?
Now, a few months ago, they broke things off after Taylor stole his car to go and hook up with a guy in another state. He got the car back, told her to go fuck herself, and that was that. In the meantime, he ended up moving in with his best friend since high school (28M), let's call him Tim, and they have been no contact with Taylor ever since. About a month ago, I was talking to Carter, and he sheepishly told me that he had realized he was bisexual and was now dating Tim.
Honestly, I was ecstatic. Like, he and Taylor have been a thing for forever, and despite all of their breakups, I've never seen Carter actually date someone other than her. Also, Tim is someone that has a really good head on his shoulders. He can be a dick, but honestly, so can Carter, and he's really smart and down-to-earth. I was super accepting, of course, and I told Carter how happy I was for him, how glad I was to see him moving on and living his best life with someone that actually respects him.
Fast forward to last week. It's my day off, and I'm hanging out at my house, getting some chores done, when I get a call from Carter. I pick up and ask him how he's doing, and he tells me that he's doing good, but he wants me to come down to the courthouse. I ask him what for, and he tells me he's getting married! I'm kind of in shock, like--yeah, I'm glad he's with Tim, but isn't that a little fast?
That is, of course, when he drops the bomb on me: He's not marrying Tim. Taylor came crawling back yesterday and proposed to him. He's marrying Taylor.
I lose it a bit, I ask him if he's lost his mind, and we get into a shouting match over the phone. He tells me I'm being a bitch, I tell him it'll be a cold day in hell when I just stand there like a dumbass at his and Taylor's wedding. I don't go, they get married, that's that.
Yesterday, I went out to get lunch at my usual spot, and who do I see but Tim. I sit down with him and ask him how he's doing, ask him what's going on in his life, and so on. I tell him I feel so awful that things went sideways with Carter, and tell Tim that he's always a part of our family, even if Carter's lost his mind and dumped the best thing that's ever happened to him. Tim gives me a weird look, and asks what I'm talking about. I tell him that I heard about Carter and Taylor getting married, and that's when he drops the bomb on me that he's still in a relationship with Carter.
At first, I'm pissed at Carter for cheating on Tim, but Tim reassures me that he's into it--something I wouldn't have expected from him. I mean, I'm glad Carter still has Tim in his life I guess, but I still feel like he's being a dick to Tim. I don't tell Tim that, but I do tell him that I can't accept my brother marrying Taylor.
He tells me that he knows, but that Carter's been miserable since the wedding after I didn't show up. Tim tells me that Carter misses me, and that he's really been hoping I reach out. That's a surprise to me, because he's been saying he's not going to talk to me again until I apologize.
I really do care about my brother, but I can't pretend I support him marrying someone that's just going to keep being a toxic presence in his life. I don't care about how many people he's in a relationship with, or whether he's straight or bi or gay or whatever. I just want him to be safe and happy, and I know this relationship is really bad for him. Tim seems to think I should have just sucked it up and gone to his wedding anyways for the sake of my relationship with him. I'm starting to have doubts--I know I hurt him. But I also don't feel sorry. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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automeris-io-moth · 2 months
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The Offer of Her Village.
suggestive (but like only a bit)
She had kept her name to herself that evening. 
Her hands were not bound anymore, if they ever were. 
She couldn’t remember quite well, the faint feeling of soft rope still ghosted over her limbs, yet no mark showed over the surface of easily-bruised skin, no burning left trace, and no real pain ever blossomed from what she recalled as blood, pooling under the tightenings, piling up to a puddle on the dirt and the dry leaves. 
Another cup, another drink, was brought to her lips, and she smiled. 
Wine had never been quite the treat for the girl, it was bitter, on the best of cases a rotten tasting grape juice she tended to avoid, taking small sips through the night, forgetting the glasses and patting her head in acknowledgement when someone noticed, blaming herself careless as it had been, yet again, her distraction making her misplaced the aged red wine the host had been so kind to open for them all that night.
She remembered it all well, even when it felt a life and a half away, the uncomfortably alcoholic aftertaste it left on her tongue, the ashamed look on her father’s face as her best efforts to prevent a grimace as she gulped down the last bit had fallen unsuccessful. Then why, she wondered, did it taste so sweet.  
It was, indeed, intoxicating. But the girl shook her head, hands limp at her sides, it could not be the alcohol. 
She leaned further in, chasing the edge of the golden up to her offered, trying still to keep that ladylike, shy sipping she had been taught so long ago. And the cupbearer, the cupbearer smiled at her so sweetly her stomach dropped further down for a moment, when he caressed the skin of her hand, when he cleaned the edge of her mouth, and smiled more. 
Dizziness, haziness, were so familiar then she had forgotten how the lucidity of only fake ebrity felt at the parties. 
Parties. 
The music echoed across the salon, even with no walls, with no marble floor nor high ceilings, different, as foreign as everything else caught by her wandering sight, like stars popping, like how fireflies should sound if they one day wanted to change their buzzing. Like the church bells, she finally settled, but more delicate, higher pitched and accompanied so well by the sound of an arp, an arp of thicker cords, an arp that sounded like something entirely different. 
They were so good at imitating the melodies of the night.
A woman approached, as beautiful as the rest of the crowd, long, dark hair trailing behind her, falling through the antlers sprouting from her skull, a pan flute held to her mouth. The melody consistent, soft and calling. 
Light wood was set in between her palms, other’s hands guiding her fingers to the right spots, it was handcrafted, that she could see, some missing polishing here and there, the clear strokes of a thin paintbrush marked on the delicate drawing of flowers. 
The girl blew. 
Broken, far from perfect, and yet, there was clapping, there was praising, and playful laughs. And she smiled, returning it to the musician. 
A whisper in her ear. 
The woman holding her in her lap urged her to continue her story. 
Such a stupid, simple story, one repeated far too many times for any of her friends to appreciate anymore, one of her few adventures to the beaches of the neighbouring town, how she had found a fish with a stinger, transparent and apparently, electrical, or something of the sort, as it had stung and scared a child playing around it. 
The body was not dangerous, she explained, she had used it to return it to the sea, the string falling down from it was the real problem. And they nodded and cooed in, most probably, fake awe to her words. 
She had acquired a peculiar interest for the sea life from then on, she told them, describing a couple more wonders she had found near the ocean grottoes, earning their complete attention. 
Carter blushed at the attention. 
Such an uninteresting, uncharismatic thing should settle to be seen, even if she’s as much of a treat for the eye as she is for the ears. 
A flower crown was placed over her head, daisies and periwinkle intertwined, braided into fitting her perfectly. 
“You should stay for a little longer, wouldn’t that be pleasant?” the man she was leaning her back against suggested, hand gently tilting her face to meet his eyes “I would be honoured.” 
The woman holding her chuckled, “That would certainly be quite a treat.” 
Her fingers traced Carter’s lips, and for a moment, she thought of how dry they had to look, biting them down to hide them.
“Oh none of that now, pretty thing, you don’t need to fix anything.” 
“I think I…” the girl stated, eyes fixed on the woman’s, staring limp at the yellow glow they emanated, even under the cold light of the moon “I think I need to go back, my friends were with me and I don’t know…” 
“That would be such a shame,” the man interjected, taking the girl from his partner’s lap, pulling her gently to his own, having her lean against him as he ran his hands up and down her back “to leave when the night is still so young.” 
The woman chuckled, reaching down for the half-drank cup and placing it to her mouth, watching as she drank.
Her eyes were soft, such a sight the girl did not recognize from ever before, and she met them. Unable to take them away, she stared. 
“How are we to make you go home without at these ungodly hours of the night, one so young would get lost so easily.” she added.
“It would be our pleasure if you allowed us to offer you sanctuary, for tonight at least.” 
“But my friends are…” 
“Safe and sound, of course, enjoying the party just as you are. Oh my, maybe you had a little too much wine,” said the lady, pointing with her open palm at the crowd.
Carter turned slowly, afraid a sudden movement would get the wine working.
A couple clouds dissipated, and she noticed that, sometime ago, the ropes had existed, they had dug into her skin opening more raw spots the more she had tried to get rid of them. But they were no more. 
No more on her own wrists at least. 
But it was fuzzy still, the faces, those faces looking right back at her, uttering more fear, though silent, as they settled their eyes on her own, and the concept was as blurry as everything else, fear seemed too far away to consider it real, even so well displayed in others' faces. 
“What a good offering they gave,” the man said, taking his own cup to his mouth, smiling to her once it was lowered, bringing both faces closer together “and what a cute thing they lost.” 
“Offering?” Carter murmured right over his mouth.
“Shh, we do not wish to upset her, do we?” the woman interrupted, quick at the words of the other “No, she’s had just about enough of that with all those hating people from the village, haven’t you, sweet thing?
She nodded mindlessly and the fae giggled behind her fist.
Soft hands, the softest she felt, careful in their touch of the claws idly disguised as nails, twisted her head away from the man into anothers, offering between long fingers a berry, a single, bright red berry, squished if only a little by the grab, and otherwise perfect to the eye, not like the ones from the bushed around her home, mushy and almost brown when the time for picking approached. 
A bright red, inhuman perfect berry. 
Crafted. 
A berry of the fae territory within the forest terrain. 
Carter twisted her head away, hiding in the man’s shoulder. 
“Perhaps,” the woman continued, taking the fruit away, “we’re still missing something.” 
The man hummed.
“Would you honour me with this next dance, sweetheart?” she asked next.
“I have never…” 
“Oh, you hear that? What a delightful thing to know myself as your first dance partner.”
_
Masterlist
Disappearing for a couple of months and suddenly coming back, no warning no explanation, is my favorite activity.
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chiefdirector · 9 months
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Questioning | Tim Bradford | The Rookie
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
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“Regina was there that day… the day (Y/N) disappeared.” Williamson said, keeping his eyes away from the steely faced detective Harper who sat questioning him. He could have felt her loathing from a mile away. He couldn’t blame her though, he loathed himself just as much, but even so, he couldn’t look at her. “She had some men, guns for hire, I recognised some from previous arrest records-“
“I will need names.” Harper interrupted. 
“Sure sure, anything.” 
Nyla took her pen out to make note of the former detective’s confession. “Anyway, continue.”
“She brought a file. Photos. She gave them to her, (Y/N) that is. I saw only a couple from where I was. It was a wedding photo of some kind. And one where the dude in it… it was the uh one who arrested me. Tom…?”
Williamson took a moment to readjust himself to the best he could with the cuffs on. “That’s when Regina started talking about getting what’s owed to her. She said something about her husband losing everything because of her… or maybe someone else. It was all so long ago.”
“Her husband, Carter. died in a police raid five weeks after Regina Diaz.” 
“Then one of the men aimed the gun. And I ran. I heard a shot but I was gone by that point.”
Harper hummed, looking at the mirror behind her where she knew Tim waited. She didn’t need to see him to know what he was thinking. He had been in that second raid, he had arrested Regina. He had been the one to cause all this. Harper tore her gaze away and back to Williamson again. “When did you next speak to (Y/N) again?”
“Three, maybe four months later she called me. That file had photos of someone. Regina made an offer. She would spare his life but she would hunt (Y/N) down. She would take away his wife like he had taken her husband.”
“So that’s why she stayed away… as to not endanger her husband?”
“Initially.”
“Initially? What does that mean?”
“Around seven months ago, she caught wind of their new operation, she said that she had to finish what she started. I last heard from her five weeks ago, she said that she was making a plan to intervene on their next shipment; she said it was going to be their biggest yet.”
Harper looked up from her notepad, Williamson’s words rushing through her mind. The Diaz family operation has been one of the biggest threats to the war on drugs in a long time. They had gone quiet after Carter had died, it was thought that the rest of them had gone to prison or dispersed into lower ranking gangs. They hadn't been important enough to keep constant eyes on. But they had rallied together, Nyla could tell from the information Williamson provided that they were going to take back what was once theirs and try to expand their control of the drug flow in Los Angeles.
“When was this shipment meant to move out?”
“The twentieth of this month.”
“That’s two days from now.”
—---
Tim found it almost fascinating how quickly and effectively the LAPD could pull together an operation when one of their own was in danger. Multiple officers came together on their days off and some even came from other divisions across LA county. Bodies moved through the station, each with the same purpose, they were here to save her, they were going to save his wife.
“Officer Bradford,” Tim turned around at the sound of Commander West speaking, “Can I have a word?”
Tim nodded before following the Commander into Sargent Grey’s office. He remained standing as West spoke.
“We have gotten in contact with a few CI’s. All of the intel seems to line up. We have called in the metro division, and have federal agents on stand-by. As you know, we have a full house of officers lining up for this bust…”
“Sir, if I may? What are you trying to say?”
West sighed, trying to pick his words carefully. He had been the one to clear all of the paperwork and the legal grey areas when Tim had originally worked on his wife’s case. “What I'm saying is that you are not needed here. Your judgement is impaired, this is too personal. If we have any chance of bringing Detective Bradford home where she belongs, we need to have everybody who is in on this to have their mind focussed on taking down this cartel movement.”
“I have to be there. I can’t leave this to anyone else. I- I failed her once, I can't do that again.”
“I understand. I really do.” West paused again, this time he took a moment to collect himself. “If this was my wife, I would be just as determined to be on the front lines of this too. But we don’t have margin for error here. So I managed to get a compromise. You will be there, and someone else will be in a car parked just under a block away. When we locate Detective Bradford, you will be called in to retrieve her.”
Tim nodded at his words, trying to bite back the urge to argue with him. He knew that West was trying his best to find a compromise between the grey areas of the LAPD Code of Conduct and Tim’s own drive to do what it takes to save (Y/N). “Who will I be with?”
“Whoever you want.”
“Put me with Chen, but please make sure Lopez is on the front lines of this. (Y/N) trusts her completely.”
“I can do that. Thank you, Bradford, for being so compliant with this… I know it must not be easy for you to take a step back from this operation.”
“No, it isn't.” Tim said, moving towards the door. “But I will do anything to make sure she comes home, even if it means I have to trust others to do what I couldn't.”
“You can trust us, and you will be there for her.”
“I know. Nobody could stop me from doing that, Commander, not even you.”
Part Five | Part Seven
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424
Tags are open :)
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dalekofchaos · 2 months
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I refuse to watch Captain America:Brave New World or reblog any form of content on my blog on the grounds that Marvel has refused to remove the fucking Zionist propaganda character Sabra played by Marvel's equivilent to G*l G*dot. The woman who plays her was exempt from joining the IDF and decided to enroll anyways. We’re dealing with true evil here. And despite the fact everyone has been boycotting them over her inclusion, they still decided to keep her.
They knew full well we were pissed about the character's inclusion and instead of removing her, they hid her in the background and made the trailer focus on Sam and Red Hulk.
Sabra was created to fulfill their fantasies of murdering Palestinians. Arabs are demonized completely in the comics and Sabra says she doesn't even recognize a little arab boy she killed as human until the hulk gets mad at her
Sabra shares a name with a massacre in which thousands of Palestinians died, and they announced the character on the 40th anniversary of the event. BDS are calling for a boycott. Don't watch.
This movie is not going to do well--and when that happens, detractors will blame it on Sam Wilson being Captain America and I am going to scream until blood leaks from my ears. He deserves so much better.
Maybe instead of destroying Sharon Carter’s character, they could have used her an actual Captain America character, instead of Sabra.
Sharon Carter, Misty Knight, and the AOS ladies were literally RIGHT THERE if they wanted a female agent character so badly, but I guess Little Miss Eye-Dee-Eff is sooo important to Sam in the comics (she’s not) that they had to have her in the movie 🙄
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rl800 · 3 months
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Idea!! If yall know anyone who would enjoy writing this tag them in the comments! And if whoever does write this tag me! I wanna read it so bad.
A Steve x Reader x Bucky story
Reader was Steve and Bucky's best friend. But she wasn't a soldier or anything. She is hopelessly in love with Steve and Bucky knows this and tries to help her out. But she was in love with skinny Steve not the super soldier, who now barely answered her letters like Bucky does. But then comes Peggy Carter.
Then somehow Hydra kidnaps reader and makes Steve choose. Peggy or Reader.
And Steve chooses Peggy. Reader is absolutely heartbroken. But Bucky tries to save them and the whole train fiasco happens.
Years later, when Steve wakes up Readers family from then to present hate Steve. When Steve sees readers family he tries to reconnect but they all blame him for readers and Buckys deaths.
But Hydra made the reader into a super soldier. She's kind of like Bucky but also like Natasha. She and Bucky are a team he's the muscle she is the brain. And she still has the memory of steves betrayal and how Bucky was the one to save her.
Other things to incorporate into this angsty story.
1. After reader isn't brainwashed anymore she can be like the mom of the avengers.
2. Will slowly forgive Steve, but she will never forget.
3. She, Tony and Bruce will be science buddies
4. Loki could be attracted to her but that's up to you
5. She and Fury get along well.
6. Maybe add reader being a mom figure to Peter
7. Maybe she could save Pietro.
8. She and Nat train together.
9. Bucky after regaining memories always gives reader flowers
10. Steve begging on his knees for forgiveness.
11. Also have Peggy tell Steve off, since she saved herself, for having a civilian(reader) he could have saved die.
That is all.
And this could be a multiple part thing or 1 long thing.
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gunsandspaceships · 4 months
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Shall we play a game? Answers
Here I'll explain why the correct answers are:
Drinks when upset (Steve)
Criticizes everyone (Steve)
Obeys orders (Tony)
Doesn’t trade lives (Tony)
Worked for politicians for personal gain (Steve)
Good shooter (Tony)
Kissed 4 different women after starting a relationship with his partner (Steve)
Asks others for help and advice when needed (Tony)
Drinks when upset - Steve
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He can't get drunk, but that doesn't mean he doesn't drink. And he does this when he is upset for some reason. In Captain America: The First Avenger, it was Bucky's death; in Civil War (extended funeral scene), it was Peggy's death.
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There is not a single scene in the entire MCU where Tony drank because he was upset.
Criticizes everyone - Steve
I didn't remember that until I started working on the "Nice Guy" Contest and watched every scene with Cap in every movie he was, as well as every scene in every movie with the other OG6 Avengers. And it caught my attention - how often Steve criticizes other people: Fury, Nat, Tony, Bruce, Thor, even Peggy. I even got tired of this.
One of the examples:
Obeys orders - Tony
Steve spent his entire military/paramilitary career doing the opposite - refusing to follow orders and criticizing his commanders. In any hierarchical organization, be it SSR, SHIELD or the Avengers, he took control. Tony, despite being the owner of the Avengers, obeyed him and followed Rogers' orders.
Doesn't trade lives - Tony
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Even though it was Steve who said, “We don't trade lives,” he traded them. And more than once. As our winners mentioned, he traded the lives of Wakandans in Infinity War. In Civil War he traded the lives of civilians, special ops operatives, agents (they were killed or injured), Clint (his freedom and life with his family), Scott (his freedom and even life - he didn't stop him when Scott offered to do something that could "split him in half"), Sam (dragged into danger), Wanda (same), Sharon (who risked several times to help him), Nat (who also would be safe if not him), Rhodey (who wouldn't have been injured if Rogers hadn't started the fight), Peter (who he could have killed with the boarding bridge he brought down on him), and Tony. He traded them all for one man and the right to continue to command without anyone above him.
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In Endgame, his plan was to bring back 50% of the universe. Before Tony and Bruce explained to them how time travel actually works, the plan was to erase everything that happened after 2018. This means all the people who have been born since then and everything that has happened to the remaining 50% over the years.
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Tony had to intervene anyway because they would have done terrible things if he hadn't told them not to change anything in those 5 years. He is the one who does not trade lives.
Even when he is told he can't save everyone - he tries. And sometimes he proves that he can.
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Worked for politicians for personal gain - Steve
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That's how Steve became captain, in case you forgot.
And that's what Tony never did - work for politicians for personal gain.
Good shooter - Tony
You can find it here:
Kissed 4 different women after starting a relationship with his partner - Steve
In 1940s Steve started a relationship with Peggy Carter. Since then he kissed:
Howard's secretary
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Unknown woman (or man? who knows)
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Natasha
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And Sheron, Carter
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Ever since Tony started his relationship with Pepper, he hadn't kissed anyone else. Or did anything else of that sort of things.
Asks others for help and advice when needed - Tony
Steve asked for help. He brought a bunch of people to risk everything and start a fight in Civil War, for example. He never asked for advice though. He always has his own opinion, it is always the right one and he doesn't need anyone else's.
On the other hand - Tony is not above asking others for help, as well as asking for advice and opinions.
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Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 5
Marvel
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes
Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.
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Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.
Warnings will be per chapter.
For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.
Chapter Summary: Where are you? What does anyone know? And is Nat unfairly getting the blame?
Chapter Warning: Mentions of mental health, death, loss, electric shock therapy.
Wanda’s eyes went wide and she snapped to look at Nat.
“Have you seen this? Have you seen this before?”
Natasha shook her head.
“You never showed me this Steve. Why wouldn’t you show this to me? To any of us?”
Steve sighed.
“Honestly, it hurt too much. Every time I look at it, every time I look at her, see her face. It feels like my heart is being crushed. To everyone else it’s seventy years, for me, well, it’s not. I look at it and I can smell her perfume, hear her voice, feel her. The chances of her still being here were small. When I was first given a stack of files from Fury, some of you were in them, so were Howard and Peggy, but she wasn’t. When I asked Fury, he didn’t know who I was even talking about, and if anyone could find anything it was you or one of you. This is all I have of her and I couldn’t risk losing that.”
“But you realise that this would have helped us look right? Sure there’s nothing from then but if you’d have shown Nat this, or Clint? It would have been ‘oh hey, I know her’ but instead you’re giving Nat shit. That’s not cool Cap.” Sam replied.
“This is all we have. The evidence shows she’s dead.”
“That’s her Steve.”
“I know Buck, look, I looked for her myself once I’d got a hand on the technology. There was nothing until that file and I gave you all a very clear description and…”
“Now hang on” interrupted Clint “you think hair and eye colour are a good description. Rogers there’s billions of people in the world, and you’re questioning us?”
Steve remained stoic. Bucky however, couldn’t seem to get a reign on his emotions. This was a chance of him getting his girl back, he wasn’t about to hide things.
“He was scared.”
“Buck!”
“Tony’s right. After everything that’s happened, everyone, including you and me, promised no more secrets, no more lies. You were scared Steve, hell, I’m scared too. What if she doesn’t want me after all these years, after all I’ve done.”
“Bucky”
“No Steve, I know you. If you’d have given Nat, Tony, any of them that picture, it would have been ran through every single database in the damn world and I’m pretty sure Friday or Tony could have aged her, taken into account any changes to her appearance, part of you was scared. Scared that if she was around, if she’d survived from back then, that she’d be old, wouldn’t remember you like Peg or that we’d have put her in danger again.”
“Aliens came out the sky Buck.”
“Exactly!”
“I had no reason to not believe Peggy.”
Seeing the conversation becoming heated, Tony decided at this point to step in.
“I’d like to add something if I may. Peggy Carter was my godmother and I knew her as well as you can when someone is your parent’s friend. I never heard them speak about your soulmate or any other female agents, map girls, just each other, you two, Phillips and the Howling Commandos. So all of this, deleting her, behaving like she didn’t exist was to keep her safe. If their truth was to out when Peggy died then it would be neatly put together just like this. If there was anything else, it would be in her file, if there was a clue to anything else it would be here in Peggy’s handwriting. I want to help you Capsicle, and you” nodding at Bucky, “but I need everything and I need Friday to scan that photo, you don’t need to move it, none of us need to touch it but we need it.”
Steve nodded and Bucky uttered a quiet ‘please’.
“You all saw that right, he nodded. I’m taking that as consent. F.R.I.D.A.Y get to work, scan the photos on the table and capture all the info in this file. Romanoff, gonna need her info.” Tony stood as projections came up over the coffee table that sat between the sofas they were all sat on.
“Freelance British Agent 21. Code name White Knight.” Said Nat.
“Why is it locked?”
“You have to high level clearance according to the screen.”  Vision pointed out.
Tony gasped in mock horror.
“Well most of us are still on the naughty list. Friday scan Rhodey for access.”
“Access denied Boss.”
“Access denied. What? I’m on the good list!”
“Boss none of you will get access.”
“Unless” Romanoff started “you have an access login given to you by the agent herself.” Nat typed in her phone and projected the result to go against the others.
“Just to loop back around, earlier the contact you were talking about, it’s her?” Asked Tony.
“Yes. Does that matter?” Natasha asked.
“No, but unless you haven’t noticed I’m incredibly nosy.”
Clint snorted with laughed. “Oh you and Y/N are going to get on like a house on fire.”
“Nat don’t let the two of them spend too much time together.” Laura added.
“Why not?” Steve and Pepper replied at the same time.
“World domination springs to mind.” Clint muttered.
“Oh I definitely like her already. Ok, Friday, what do we have?”
“The results are inconclusive boss.”
“What? What does that mean?” Asked Bucky.
“Break it down F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony replied.
A fresh batch of projections displayed.
“Examining the facial features, matching the structure and identifying marks, is a 100% match but her DNA and genetics test show she’s not of the age of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes soulmate would be.”
There was sighs around the room. Vision spoke first.
“It’s unlikely that the testing could have been tampered with due to the secure way it’s taken.” Vision pointed out. “Although her last testing is past the usual repeat time.”
“How is she still working if she’s missed testing? It’s a requirement for the health check.” Rhodey added.
“Must of been busy.” Clint said, trying to brush past the comment.
Bucky watched as Nat seemed to find an interesting spot on the meeting room carpet that she couldn’t take her eyes off, Bruce rubbing circles on her knee. Clint was now looking off screen, Laura had disappeared.
“OK, what is it you’re not saying?” He asked.
“Who you talking to Buck?”
“These four. Bruce, Nat, Laura and Clint, you’re not lying but there’s something you aren’t saying.”
F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted.
“Boss, we’ve got a visitor.”
“Well, don’t let them in.” Tony instructed.
“Sorry boss but it’s Deputy Director Hill and she’s used her pass.”
“Wilson, your booty calls here.”
Sam shook his head.
“Actually Boss, she’s here to see Agents Romanoff and Barton.”
Before anyone had time to comment further, Maria entered the room. Tony acted quickly, minimising the screens that displayed their soulmate, wanting to respect Steve and Bucky’s privacy.
“And what brings you here Hill? That isn’t Sam’s sparkling personality?” Tony asked getting him a swat from Pepper.
The team shook their heads at Tony’s poor joke. Maria didn’t even flinch or react. Her lack of reaction causing everyone to turn to look at her fully.
Her eyes were blood shot, face damp from tears and she looked liked she hadn’t slept in a week. The enhanced in the room could smell the coffee she’d clearly been living off, along with a faint hint of scotch. Steve would guess one glass, thirty minutes ago.
Pepper stood first, nearest placed to Hill. Sam also stood to go towards her.
“Maria what is it? What’s wrong?” Asked Pepper. She held her hand up to stop them going further.
“I’m here in my role as Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton as….” She paused and swallowed hard.
“This isn’t a mission is it?” Sam asked.
Maria lowered her head and took a breath, when she looked up, she locked eyes with Nat, who was now also standing.
“Shall we do this here or in private?”
Nat had a horrible feeling. A feeling deep down in her stomach that this was the worst kind of news. She had seen Maria in this state twice. Once when Coulson died (or so they thought) and the same when Fury had (or so they thought - again). Clint spoke before Nat had chance to reply.
“Just spit it out Hill, so I know if I need to get on the jet or not.”
Maria glanced at Nat who nodded.
“According to our records and that of MI5 and MI6, you are registered as next of kin and the emergency contacts of Freelance British Agent 21, code name White Knight. As my role of Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D I’m here to inform you that 50 hours ago, during a covert mission for our agency, Agent 21 missed her checkpoint. Due to the evidence found two hours ago, she is now declared as missing in action, presumed dead."
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