#like if we have had the plans for 2 weeks and you just cancel now when i am checking in with the meeting time for tomorrow... :/

[finelinefae]

safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe. 

. . . 

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother. 

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm. 

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said. 

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage. 

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear. 

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.” 

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good. 

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.” 

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot. 

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers. 

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer. 

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house. 

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?” 

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi 

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy  @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[purplereina11]

Part 2

You spent your childhood drifting through foster homes, with nothing but a worn photo of two little girls and a note on the back: Your sisters, Alexia and Alba. You never imagined that at 25, after starting a new job, you'd meet them, through your boss who was your sister's girlfriend.

Word count: 11k

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The office is still when you arrive, early sunlight filtering through the blinds, casting soft gold stripes across the floor. You set your bag down, plug in your laptop, and sit for a moment in the silence just breathing.

You’re not sure what today will bring, you’re halfway through replying to an email when you hear the click of the front door.

Olga’s balancing two coffees and a paper bag from that little place she knows you love but never ask for. She glances at you, eyes scanning your face for something she’s clearly already read in your posture. She sets everything down at your desk before heading to her own without a word.

You blink at the coffee then the croissant and spot the note under the napkin.

Eat. I know you probably haven’t yet. — O x

Your throat tightens, she’s typing already, a headphone in one ear, hair still a little damp from the shower, clearly focused on her task, but she glances at you just once over the rim of her screen, a soft kind of check-in that doesn’t require words.

You tear off a bit of croissant, begin to chew. “Thanks.”

She doesn’t look up, just murmurs, “You don’t have to thank me.” A beat passes. “You look rested.”

You smile a little. “I laughed a lot last night.”

That gets her attention, she looks up, really looks at you. There’s warmth there but more than that, a calm relief “With them?” she asks and you simply nod. Olga’s mouth curves into a quiet smile. “Good.”

You take a sip of coffee. Then ask, “You okay?”

She pauses before answering, “I am now.” Olga smiles softly. “I like when you laugh,” she says, like it’s not a big deal, like it hasn’t just quietly set your whole morning aglow.

You look down, cheeks warm. “I like when you don’t pretend to be scary.”

She laughs under her breath. “I’m terrifying, don’t ruin the brand.”

You laugh too and just like that, everything’s a little easier.

There’s so much behind that, and you both know it but neither of you push. You both work, emails, graphics, campaign planning it's ordinary, comforting and through it all, there’s a thread of something stronger than routine. A kind of bond forged in chaos and kept alive by every moment like this.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

Wednesday mornings always carry a certain energy. Alexia’s energy.

She arrives like a breeze that leaves the door open behind her, a reusable cup in one hand and her gym bag slung over one shoulder. She’s already halfway into a story about training before she even rounds the corner into the main office. “—and then Mapi slipped, blamed the floor, but literally no one else had fallen all morning,” she grins. “She’s going to be unbearable about it all week.”

Olga’s smile is soft, automatic. “Tell her I said to be careful. I’m not designing another injury post.”

Alexia chuckles, then her eyes find you. “Hey, you.” She gives you that now familiar smile, something warm, tentative, like a thread trying to strengthen itself between two people still learning how to be.

“Hey,” you manage your voice doesn’t match hers, not quite. You’re smiling, but your hands twist your pen a little tighter than they need to.

Alexia drops into one of the spare chairs near Olga’s desk, bouncing slightly with excitement. “So, mamá’s doing dinner Friday. Proper dinner tablecloth and all and no one’s allowed to cancel, I’ve decided.”

Olga smiles again, but it flickers. She’s looking at you now. You nod faintly. “That’s… nice.”

“Yeah,” Alexia says brightly. “It’ll be all of us. You, me, Alba, Mamá. Maybe even a little cava if we behave.”

You laugh softly, but it’s quiet, your eyes drop to your notebook. Olga catches it. Sees the way your shoulders don’t quite settle, the nervous twitch at the corner of your mouth. So she jumps in ever so gently.

“Y/N,” she says, casually, like she’s only just remembered. “Didn’t you say you had plans with Patri that night?”

Your head snaps up, eyes flicking to her. Olga’s face is calm and neutral, but her eyes are soft and searching. You pause long enough that Alexia notices. She looks between the two of you, something cautious knitting behind her eyes. "Erm..." You swallow. “I… might. I don’t know yet.”

Alexia’s smile falters just a fraction. “Oh. Okay. Well, if you can make it, it would be… good.”

There’s so much in her voice that you can’t carry today. You nod. “I’ll let you know?”

Alexia nods too, just once. “Yeah. Sure.”

She rises again with that same energy she walked in with, but it doesn’t quite bounce the same. She kisses Olga on the lips, waves to you, and disappears in a rustle of fabric and keys. In the silence you let out a breath you hadn’t meant to hold, Olga doesn’t look at you right away. She starts typing, deliberate, before saying gently, “You don’t have to go if it’s too much.”

You nod, then shake your head. “I want to.” She looks at you, turning her chair to face you, “I’m just scared.”

Olga’s voice is soft. “I know.” She's up from her chair mug in hand, you go back to work, but not before she reaches over just briefly as she passes and gives your wrist the gentlest squeeze.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

Patri’s cart has only three things in it, and you’ve already done two laps of the supermarket. “I swear we passed the tortillas like five times,” you mumble, toeing along behind her as she backtracks, again.

“That’s because I wasn’t sure if I wanted soft or crunchy,” she says, barely glancing at you over her shoulder, then adds with a grin, “And now I’m sure I want both.”

You shake your head, watching her compare packets like she’s making a life-altering decision.

The cart squeaks when you push it after she abandoned it in the middle of the aisle. She doesn’t notice, or maybe she does and has no regard for anyone else to engrossed in her tortilla choosing.

You trail her into the next aisle, a row of cereals on one side and a wall of jams and spreads on the other. You lean your elbows on the cart, watching her scan labels. “I’m supposed to go to dinner with them Friday.”

She turns halfway, a box of oats in her hand. “Your sisters?”

You nod. “Alexia invited me like it’s the most normal thing in the world.” You pause. “It probably is.”

Patri doesn’t say anything right away. Just gives you a soft look and sets the oats into the cart like they’re breakable. “You going?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I want to.”

“You don’t sound like you want to.”

“I do. I just—” You blow out a breath and push the cart forward a little. “It feels like if I sit at that table, I’m saying yes to something I’m not sure I know how to be part of.”

Patri turns, leaning on the handle in front of you, her expression gentle. “You’re not saying yes to knowing how to do it. You’re just saying yes to trying.” You meet her eyes, uncertain, she smiles, softer now. “That’s all they’re asking of you.”

You blink fast and look down. “I’m scared I won’t be what they want me to be.”

Patri steps closer, brushing your hand with hers. “Maybe try being what you want to be. Let them figure the rest out.” You nod slowly, the weight of it still heavy but less suffocating in her presence. She pulls you forward by the cart, just enough to make you walk again. “Now help me pick salsa. I’ve been burned before.”

You smirk. “You mean that time you cried over a medium?”

She gasps. “It lied to me!”

You laugh and somehow the aisle feels a little lighter, like maybe you’re already figuring out how to do this. You cuddle up beside her, "What about extra mild for the sensitive midfielder?"

"You're pushing your luck"

You tap her ass as you move away back to the cart, "You love it"

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

Your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, screen lighting up as you close the fridge door with your foot. You almost ignore it, assuming it’s Patri asking if you want to come over after training, but it isn’t.

The notification makes you stop.

New Group: Hermanitas 💜

You stare at the name for a second before opening it and there’s a wave of messages already waiting.

Alexia: i was talking to alba earlier 💬

Alexia: we were thinking…

Alexia: if it helps you feel more comfortable maybe you could bring Patri to dinner? and i’ll bring Olga too?

Alba: only if it’s not weird tho

Alba: like if it makes it worse then ignore us 😅

Alexia: but also you know

Alexia: less pressure maybe

Alexia: more wine

Alexia: more distractions

Alexia: less weird staring from our mamá 👀

Your hand rests on the counter, reading the messages once, then again. You know what Alexia’s doing. You can feel it in every word the careful way she’s reaching, the way she’s making it about options and comfort and not forcing anything. It’s not subtle, but it’s kind, even if it's clearly been orchestrated by Olga.

You thumb out a reply before you can think too much:

You: i think that sounds… actually really nice, thank you 🫂

Alba: ok but like

Alba: not weird couple stuff in front of me

Alba: i’m still adjusting 😭

Alba: I now know how Alexia felt with me

Alexia: you’re the worst

You: 😂 no promises

You surprise yourself… you're not dreading dinner. You’re looking forward to it, even if it is just a little bit.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

Patri’s apartment is a mess of hair tools, half-dried laundry, and open drawers by the time you settle in front of her mirror again. She stands behind you, toothbrush in her mouth, watching you fuss with your hair for the fourth time. “You look fine,” she says, the words muffled through foam.

You glance at her reflection. “You’re saying that while you’re foaming like a rabid dog. I can’t take you seriously.”

She smirks, rolls her eyes, and disappears back into the bathroom. You breathe out, reaching for your earring the second one shakes in your hand. You're not even sure why you’re this nervous, it’s not your first dinner with them, but it’s the first where you’re walking into a place that didn't feel neutral ground. You’re walking in with Patri, with someone who knows you, there's something terrifying about being known by two different parts of your life at once.

Patri returns a moment later, drying her hands, already dressed loose black trousers, simple white tee, chain necklace. No fuss, just her, effortlessly cool, your comfort zone. She steps up behind you again and rests her hands on your shoulders, you meet her eyes in the mirror.

“You okay?” she asks, quieter now.

You nod. Then shrug. “Mostly. Just… don’t want to mess it up.”

She leans in, presses her lips to your cheek. “You won’t.” You turn your face just a little, catching her mouth halfway, and kiss her back, slow and gentle. She smiles into it, “Besides,” she murmurs, lips brushing yours, “if anyone’s going to embarrass you, it’s definitely going to be me.”

You laugh. “I don’t doubt it.”

She grins and grabs your jacket from the bed, holding it up for you. “Come on then, baby sister. Let’s go meet the wolves.”

You narrow your eyes as you slip your arms in. “Don’t call them that. They’re already protective enough.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” she winks.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The house smells like garlic and roasted peppers. There’s music playing low from a speaker in the kitchen, and Alba’s already poured a glass of wine you’re not sure you’re ready for.

You and Patri arrive five minutes early, but somehow the house is already loud with conversation and laughter. Olga greets you first with a soft smile and a one-armed hug. She’s calm tonight, tucked close to Alexia like always, her presence grounding. Alexia, on the other hand, has her game face on smirk locked in place, eyes full of mischief.

She sees Patri step in behind you, and with all the dramatic flair of a footballer taking the pitch, she plants her feet, throws her shoulders back, and juts out her chest. “So,” she says, voice teasing, “you’re the girl dating my little sister.”

Patri just rolls her eyes, already used to her long-time teammate’s antics. “Do I need to give a what are my intentions speech before or after dinner?” she fires back.

Alexia lets out a laugh and drapes her arm around Olga, grinning. “Just know if you break her heart, you’re benched for life.”

Alba mutters from the kitchen, “I said I’d do worse.”

You make a strangled noise in your throat. “You’re all terrifying.”

“We’re family,” Olga says sweetly. “It’s basically the same thing.”

Everyone laughs even you and somehow that breaks the tension enough for the dinner to feel real. You sit beside Patri who, despite herself, leans her shoulder into yours once the food’s been passed around. Alexia takes the opposite end of the table, but you catch her watching you sometimes not suspiciously, not protectively, just curiously.

Patri reaches for your hand under the table once you squeeze back, “You okay?” she whispers, leaning close.

You nod. “Actually… yeah.”

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

Plates are nearly clean, and a third bottle of wine has been opened. The room is buzzing with a warmth not just from the alcohol, but from the laughter, the low music, the way things feel possible tonight.

Alba leans back in her chair, eyeing you over the rim of her glass, “So…” she begins, drawing out the word like she’s testing the water. “You and Patri.”

You feel your cheeks warm before she even asks anything else. Patri quirks a brow and gives her a mock warning look. “Don’t start.”

Alba ignores it completely. “No, seriously. I’m just curious. Like, how did that even happen? You’re so quiet, and Patri’s…” She waves a vague hand. “...Patri.”

Patri pretends to be offended. “What does that mean?”

“Loud,” Alexia offers from across the table, grinning.

“Fearless,” Eli adds, smiling into her wine.

“Annoying,” Alba finishes, smirking as she looks back to you.

You laugh softly, your fingers brushing against Patri’s on your lap beneath the table. “We met in a bar, actually.”

Alba’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

Patri nods, shrugging casually. “She spilled her drink on me.”

You cringe. “It was one drink.”

“She was so awkward about it I had to buy her a replacement.” Patri nudges your shoulder. “I didn’t even know your name, but you blushed so hard I thought your face would combust.”

Olga grins. “That tracks.”

Alexia sips her wine. “Did you know who she was?”

You shake your head. “No. I mean, I knew the name Patri Guijarro because a friend of mine goes your games, but not her face. Not in the moment though, I was too busy apologising to death.”

Alba laughs, then tilts her head, suddenly more sincere. “So… is it serious?”

You look at Patri, Patri looks at you and she’s the one who says it. “Yeah. It is.”

The table goes quiet for a moment, but not tense just still Alba smiles then, a bit softer. “Good. Because if you hurt her, I will absolutely ruin your life.”

Everyone laughs even Patri, even Alexia, even you but there's a weight to it too. A sincerity beneath the humour. You glance at Alba. “I don't doubt that.”

Alba meets your eyes and nods. “Yeah. I can tell.”

Alexia’s talking football with Olga at the other end who looks bored to death, and clearly she’s only half-listening, her eyes flicking over to your side of the table every so often.

Patri’s watching you, her cheek propped on her knuckles, eyes soft and full. Then she says it, casual but laced with a kind of wonder, "It’s funny, you know… I saw you every week in that bar for weeks and couldn’t build up the courage to speak to you."

You turn to her, a smile already pulling at your lips, the kind that happens without trying the kind only she gets from you. "I know," you say softly, amused. "Your friend Salma told me. Weeks before I spilled that drink on you."

Patri’s eyes widen. "Wait — what?"

You laugh and lean in a little, like it’s a secret meant just for her, "Salma told me you’d been coming in just to see if I was there… but that you didn’t have the guts to talk to me." You lick your lip, "We had a bet going"

"A bet?" Patri sat up

You nodded, "How long it would take you to make a move, I won"

"How much?"

"100 euro"

Patri nodded seemingly impressed, "Nice"

"I bought that jacket of mine you think I haven't noticed you've stole"

"Can we rewind" Olga waves her hand about, "Patri, you were nervous of Y/N?"

Alba snorts into her wine. Alexia, clearly now fully listening, makes a loud, mock gasp. "Patri Guijarro, nervous?!"

Patri groans, sliding down in her chair as she mutters, "I’m never going to live this down."

You nudge her knee with yours, still grinning. "Hey, at least I spilled a drink on the right girl."

Olga, watching the way you look at each other, murmurs just loud enough, “You really did.”

Patri smiles like she doesn’t quite know what to do with herself. You can tell by the way her fingers brush yours again featherlight, like a question she's already sure of the answer to.

Alba looks between you two, then sighs dramatically. "Gross. I want it. But gross."

Alexia raises her glass. "To nice jackets, accidents, and overly dramatic footballers."

You raise yours, laughing, the glasses clink.

You notice Eli had made her exit part way through the conversation, as you moved through the home after excusing yourself, the laughter softened into background noise, the sound of wine being poured replaced by the scrape of cutlery being cleared and stacked. You slip into the kitchen without really thinking about it, drawn by the clink of plates and the low hum of the tap running.

Eli’s at the sink, alone, she doesn’t look up when you step in but you see the way her shoulders tense, the slight hesitation in her hands as she rinses a dish and places it gently in the rack.

You hover for a moment, "Do you want some help?"

She glances sideways, caught off guard, but nods, "If you don’t mind drying."

You grab a clean towel and take your place beside her. The silence is thick but not heavy, just careful. You dry slowly, matching her pace.

"Dinner was really good," you say. "The potatoes especially. Who made them?"

Eli lets out a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh. "That was me. It’s Alexia’s favorite. She always insists I make them whenever we do family dinners."

You smile, placing a plate down gently. "I get it. They were incredible. Comfort food."

She nods, focusing on the next dish. "She used to help me peel them when she was little. Always ended up with more potato on the floor than in the pot."

You glance at her hands older now, but steady. You wonder if they were the same hands that once buttoned your baby clothes, even for just a few short moments. You want to ask her everything. Why she didn’t try to keep you. Why she never tried to find you. Why it feels like she’s afraid to look directly at you now, but you don’t. "I do that too. Fidget when I’m anxious. You were doing it at the table your hands, they kind of… circle each other." She pauses and looks at you. "I thought it was something I picked up at the children’s home. But now I wonder if it’s just... you."

Her eyes shine not quite tears, not yet, but there's weight behind them. Emotion pressed down, for now. She swallows, "You noticed that?"

You nod, "I notice a lot of things. Especially things that feel familiar."

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just places the mug down, steadies herself, "Thank you for helping."

"Anytime," you say and mean it.

"Would you, would you maybe be open to us spending time together, just you and I?"

You nod, "I would"

Eli nods just the once, "Ok" You don't plan anything with her in that moment but its seems it was enough for her in that moment.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The night air is cooler than you expected, brushing against your skin as you and Patri walk side by side, hands almost but not quite touching. She’s quiet, too quiet, you glance over at her a few times, but she keeps her eyes ahead, jaw tight, her pace just a bit too quick for it to be casual.

Finally, you say it. "You okay?"

She stops, not dramatically, just stops.

You turn to face her, brows furrowing, the quiet suddenly louder between you. "What’s going on?"

She shifts her weight, runs a hand through her hair, "Alexia and Alba talked to me."

You freeze. "Okay...?"

She looks at you now, finally but her expression is unreadable. "About us. About… how we haven’t slept together."

Your stomach drops, "What—how did that even—"

"You told them," she cuts in. "You told them something private. Something personal. About me. About us."

"It wasn’t like that," you say quickly, voice shaky. "It just came up. They were being, sisters. Asking questions. I didn’t mean to—"

"But you did," she says, voice rising. "You’ve known them five fucking minutes and you're already telling them things that are really fucking personal?!"

Your eyes sting, you take a step back, "It wasn’t malicious. I was just… trying to connect. Everything’s moving so fast and I—"

She laughs once, bitter and breathless. "Yeah, well, I feel like an idiot now. Standing here, finding out from your sisters that you’re apparently frustrated with how slow I’ve been.

You wince. "That’s not what I said. Patri, I care about you. I wasn’t complaining—"

"You embarrassed me." Her voice breaks a little. Not loud. Just raw. "You made me feel small." Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out, she shakes her head. "I thought I was being respectful. Thought I was giving you space. Turns out I was just giving you something to joke about with your new family. She's my friend man, I've known her years, she's my fucking captain!"

You feel the tears hit before you even realise they’re falling. "That’s not fair," you whisper. "You’re twisting this. I didn’t mock you. I’ve never mocked you."

But Patri is already turning away, "I need to go."

"Patri—" She doesn’t look back. You’re left standing under a flickering streetlight, your breath catching in your throat, the sound of her footsteps fading fast into the dark.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking not really. The air stings your face now, dried tear tracks tight against your skin, footsteps slow and aimless.

You’re still trying to catch your breath when headlights glide up behind you, soft and golden. A car slows and a window rolls down.

"Hey!" It’s Alexia, her voice is too casual, too cheerful like she doesn’t know the world just came crashing down on top of you. You glance over. She’s in the driver’s seat, Olga sits beside her in the front, and Alba peers out from the backseat, concern etched into all their faces. "Thought Patri was walking you home?" Alexia calls.

You stop walking, you feel everything in your body lock into place, your jaw, your spine, your fists. "She was" You give them a look turn and start walking again.

You heard her car start up again and she pulled back along side you, "Y/N Stop, talk to-"

"Are you serious right now?" you snap, your voice slicing through the night. "You thought this was a good time for a chat?"

Alexia blinks. "Wait, what—"

"Of course you thought it was fine!" you yell. "Because everything is always fine for you, isn’t it? You get to be the golden girl the football star, the daughter Eli kept, the sister everyone loves."

Olga opens her mouth like she might say something, but one glance from you silences her.

"You and your whole perfect family keep blowing my life apart. You just waltz in like I should be grateful. Like I should fall to my knees because I finally have a family who want me now that I’m not an inconvenience anymore."

You see Alba flinch in the back seat, her eyes wide, but you’re not done. You take a shaking breath, stepping closer to the window, to Alexia.

"Do you even know what it’s like to spend your whole life wondering why no one came back for you? To look in the mirror and not know a single damn thing about who you are?"

Alexia looks dumbfounded, "What have I done?"

“Don’t play dumb,” you snap, your voice rising fast. “You told her what I said. About us not sleeping together. That was private, Alexia. That was between me you and Alba.”

You shake your head, stepping closer.

“You embarrassed her. You humiliated me. And for what? A laugh? Some bonding moment with your actual sister at our expense?”

She opens her mouth guilt written all over her face but you’re not interested in apologies.

“How am I supposed to trust you after that? You don’t get it, do you?” you say, eyes blazing. “I’ve never had people. Never had someone to protect my secrets, my heart and I let you in. I let all of you in and in five minutes, you’ve already broken something that meant something to me.”

No one says a word, even Alba who usually has something snarky or sharp on hand is silent. Olga’s lips part, but you look at her, and she falls quiet too.

“You and your perfect, shiny family come crashing into my life like you’re doing me a favour,” you go on, voice cracking now. “Like you saving me from loneliness excuses the fact that I was abandoned in the first place.”

You suck in a breath, barely holding it together.

“Do you even understand what it’s like to grow up not knowing why you weren’t wanted? To find out years later that the people you needed weren’t dead, or missing they were just living their lives without you? Cast aside, not spoken of again like you didn't matter”

Alexia flinches and then you deliver the final blow.

“I wish I never found out you were my sister because the reality of knowing you is worse than not.”

You see her shoulders drop, like the air’s been pulled out of her, Olga’s hand subtly reaches for hers, grounding her but you’re already walking.

Toward the alley just ahead dark, narrow, the kind of space a car couldn’t follow through.

“Y/N—” Alexia calls behind you, voice softer now, please in her tone, but you don’t stop.

“Just leave me alone.” And then you’re gone.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The locker room hums with pre-training chatter. Boots clatter against tile, lockers slam, and the familiar sounds of music and laughter bounce off the walls. Alexia sits on the bench, tugging her boots on, her mind only half in the room. Her phone buzzes against the metal beside her, she glances down at the screen.

Olga 💬 Incoming Call

She frowns and quickly answers. "Hey, what’s up?"

Olga’s voice is tight. "Has Y/N texted you? Called? Anything?"

Alexia straightens. "No. Why?"

"She didn’t show up to work this morning," Olga says, voice quiet but tense. "I figured maybe she needed space, after… everything last night, but she’s not answering her phone. I’ve text, called and getting nothing."

That gets Alexia’s full attention, she stands, moving toward the corner of the locker room for privacy. "You’re serious?"

"Dead serious," Olga says. "I’ve never known her to just… not show. And after how upset she was"

Alexia bites her lip, eyes scanning the room instinctively. She spots Patri sitting on the far bench, quietly tying her laces, her shoulders a little stiffer than usual. "I’ll ask Patri," Alexia says quickly, she lowers the phone slightly and steps over. "Hey," she says gently. Patri looks up, wary, "Have you heard from Y/N today? Olga says she’s missing work and not answering."

Patri’s expression doesn’t change much, but something flickers behind her eyes. She shakes her head. "No. Haven’t spoken to her."

Alexia waits, but it’s clear she won’t say more. "You sure?"

Patri doesn’t flinch, but she’s quiet, measured, "Yeah. I'm sure."

Alexia nods slowly, uneasy. She steps back toward the corner and lifts the phone again. "Nothing to Patri either," she tells Olga. "She’s not getting involved, though. I think they argued."

Olga sighs through the line. "I should’ve gone after her last night. I should’ve made her come in the car. She looked… broken."

Alexia closes her eyes. "She told me she wished she’d never found out I was her sister."

There’s a pause, "We need to find her, Ale. I'm worried."

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The sun has dropped behind a massive rain cloud by the time training finishes, casting a golden haze over the city.

Alexia’s untying her boots when she hears Patri behind her “Heard from Y/N?”

Alexia turns, heart lurching with the same dread that hasn’t left her chest all day. She shakes her head. “No. Nothing. I keep checking my phone, Olga's been sat outside her apartment door all afternoon waiting for her to come home with Alba”

Patri nods slowly. Then quietly, without ego or drama, “I know where she’ll be.”

Alexia’s brows pull together. “Where?”

“Come on. I’ll take you,” Patri says. “We can grab dumb and dumber on the way.”

The car is silent as it snakes through the city. Patri’s at the wheel, Alexia riding shotgun, and Olga and Alba sit in the back, Olga clutching her bag like it’s holding her together.

No one really speaks. The weight of it all, the fear, the guilt, the silence between people who care too much and said too little fills the space.

They pull up outside the aquarium. The lights inside still glow faintly as the storm draws in, and it’s quiet, save for the gentle sound of the sea nearby.

Olga leans forward from the back seat. “Why here?”

Patri shuts off the engine. “She comes here when she’s overwhelmed. Told me once that the jellyfish calm her down. She used to sneak into the computer room after hours at the children’s home. She'd watch videos of them, said the water made her feel like she wasn’t trapped anymore.”

Alexia’s heart twists, of course she’d run to the sea when everything on land felt too heavy.

Inside, the space is quiet just the soft hum of filtered water and the rhythmic pulse of ocean light refracted through glass.

They walk slowly. Past reef tanks and luminous tunnels. It’s Olga who spots you first.

You’re seated on the floor in front of the jellyfish exhibit. Legs crossed, arms hugged around your knees, face illuminated in shifting blue light. The world has been too loud, too confusing and here, it's just water, movement, breath.

You don’t hear their footsteps at first, but something in the air shifts that makes you look over your shoulder, Alexia is already walking toward you.

She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t ask if she can, she simply lowers herself to the floor beside you, close but not touching.

You're both quietly watching the tank, then she says softly, eyes on the jellyfish “Papa liked the jellyfish too.”

You blink. She doesn’t look at you.

“He used to bring us here when we were little. Me and Alba. He said they looked like they were dreaming, like they floated between worlds.”

Her voice wavers a little. Still calm, but deep with memory.

“After he died… I couldn’t see a jellyfish without thinking of him”

You say nothing, but your shoulders relax just a fraction, your fingers uncurl slightly on your knee Alexia finally turns her head toward you.

“I’m sorry.”

You glance at her. She holds your gaze now.

“I shouldn’t have told Patri what you said. That was yours and I shouldn't have brought that up with her, it was out of line, I want to treat you as what you are, my sister, but I need to remember how overwhelming it is for you, I don't know how to make this ok”

A long pause, then, you murmur, “Neither do I.”

Alexia breathes in slowly as she nodded, her voice is quieter still, “But I want to try. If you'll let me.”

You barely register there was someone behind you until she speaks, ��Can I… have a minute with her?” Patri asks, glancing briefly at Alexia, who nods and quietly gets up, giving you space.

You’re not sure why, but your stomach twists as Patri kneels in front of you slowly, like you might shatter if she moves too quickly. Gently and without asking she reaches for your wrists. You flinch, pulling back sharply. “I didn’t do anything.”

Your voice is more defensive than you meant it to be more ashamed that she needed to check. Patri exhales, sitting back on her heels. She doesn’t say anything right away, just watches you. Not accusing, not angry just worried. “Okay,” she says softly. “Okay. I just… had to check.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look away. You feel small again, like every bad part of you is suddenly visible, impossible to hide. “You should go,” you whisper.

She blinks. “What?”

You look at her then, voice cracking just enough to betray what’s underneath. “You should go. You deserve better than this than me.”

Patri frowns, confused, hurt. “Y/N—”

“You do,” you cut in, firmer this time. “You deserve someone better. Someone more… I don’t know. Attractive. Confident. Normal. Not this boring, broken mess.”

The silence that follows is painful, but Patri doesn’t storm off. She doesn’t argue or try to fix you with some perfect line. She just swallows, eyes glistening slightly, and whispers, “You don’t get to decide what I deserve.”

You can’t look at her, you stare at your hands. The sting of your words still hanging between you both.

Then, more quietly, she says, “Can I ask you something?” You nod, not looking at her, “Did it really bother you that much… that we haven’t had sex?”

You pause, then shrug, not because you don’t care, but because you don’t know how to explain it not properly. Patri waits. She always gives you space like that, but this time, she deserves an answer. “It’s not you,” you say quietly. “I know it’s not you.”

She turns toward you slightly. You can feel her attention on you, even as you keep your eyes on the shifting water.

“It’s me. It’s how I see myself. How I feel in my own skin.” You take a breath, then another. You hate the sound of your voice when it’s this vulnerable. “I know you’re being respectful and I love that about you, I do, but sometimes it makes me feel like… like somethings wrong with me, like I’m not good enough. Not sexy enough. Like you’re waiting for something better to come along.”

You finally turn your head to look at her, your voice barely a whisper:

“I want to feel wanted too.” There’s a long, deep quiet, "you didn't always make me feel like that"

Then Patri shifts a little closer, her eyes gentle but burning with conviction.

“You have no idea how wanted you are,” she says. “You think I’m holding back because I don’t want you?” She shakes her head. “I’m holding back because I do. So much it scares me.”

You blink fast. Her hand reaches for yours slowly, letting you be the one to close the space. You do.

“Don’t ever think for a second it’s because I don’t want you. I do. All of you. Exactly as you are.”

You lower your head placing with the laces on your shoes to keep you busy, then, Patri speaks again, her voice low but honest.

“I haven’t… initiated anything because when we do spend the night together…”

She hesitates, not out of shame, but to be careful with her words.

“…you wouldn't even get changed in front of me.”

You feel your cheeks burn, gaze dropping again. She’s not being cruel it’s not judgment. Just truth.

“So I figured…” she continues softly, “…maybe you weren’t confident in yourself yet and I didn’t want to push you or make you feel like you had to do anything just because I wanted to.” She swallows “I wanted you to want it and the only way I’d really know that… is if you were the one who started it.”

You nod slowly, the sting behind your eyes returning again, "You were right to be mad" You raise your eyes, "But I don't want you to forgive me because you think something happened to me, you need to go be mad"

"Y/N" She watches you stare back into the tank for a moment, before getting to her feet and leaving you behind.

"Well?" Olga asks

Patri sighed, "I think she just broke up with me"

"What?"

Patri shrugs holding her car keys to Alexia, "I'll walk home, take care of her make sure she gets home ok" and just like that the best thing you'd had in years walked right by you like you weren't even there.

The jellyfish glowing and silence holding the weight of everything said and unsaid clogs your mind, until the faint echo of footsteps draws your attention. You glance over as Alexia, Olga, and Alba approach slowly, uncertainly, as if afraid to disturb something fragile.

No one speaks at first, they just stand there, the soft glow of the tank casting bluish light over all of you, reflecting in eyes that still hold exhaustion and unsaid things.

Then, Alba breaks the silence. "They're funny-looking little things, aren't they?"

She squints at the jellyfish drifting behind the glass, her voice casual, even light, but you can hear the intent beneath it she's trying. You blink at her, then turn your gaze to the tank again.

"They don’t even have brains," she adds, frowning. "Just… float around bumping into stuff, somehow still alive."

"Sounds familiar," you murmur, standing up and leaving them behind, you know they're following you, but you've always been good at switching people off to you.

You move slowly toward the massive shark tank, the water dark and swirling with sleek shapes gliding silently through it.

Olga stops beside you, her eyes wide with awe. “I never realised sharks were so... graceful,” she says, watching the shadows move.

You smile softly, stepping closer to the glass. “They’re incredible creatures,” you begin, your voice steady and sure now. “Most people think they’re just mindless killers, but sharks have been around for over 400 million years. They’re apex predators, but they play a vital role in keeping the ocean’s ecosystem balanced.”

Olga leans in, clearly impressed, “Wow, I had no idea. You really know your stuff.”

You shrug, a little shy but pleased. “I’ve always been fascinated by them, their senses, how they detect electrical signals in the water, their social behaviours. It’s like they have this whole world we barely understand.”

Olga's gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her smile soft, "You broke up with Patri?"

"I don't want to talk about it"

"Ok" Olga nodded, "Do you want us to take you home?"

"Only if you drive and I can sit in the front"

You caught the smile Olga tried to hide, you were aware how childish you sounded but she didn't need to find it funny.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The market buzzes around you the sounds of bargaining, the rustle of paper bags, the scent of spices and fresh herbs hanging in the warm air. You spot Eli before she sees you, carefully choosing tomatoes with the same quiet intensity you’ve seen in the mirror when you’re trying to steady yourself.

You walk up slowly, offering a soft, “Hi.”

She looks over seemingly genuinely pleased to see you, “Mi niña,” she says gently, setting down a tomato and reaching out to give your arm a squeeze. “I’m glad you came.”

You fall into step beside her, letting the noise of the market fill the silences between you. It’s not awkward just tentative, like you’re both learning a rhythm neither of you ever expected to need.

A few stalls in, while she’s weighing peaches, Eli glances at you “Alexia told me what happened,” she says quietly. “About what she and Alba said to Patri.”

You swallow, suddenly fascinated by the uneven cobblestones beneath your shoes. “I didn’t mean to hurt Alexia's feelings,” you murmur.

“I know you didn’t.” Eli’s voice is steady but carries that tired weight, the one that lingers after sleepless nights. “And I want to say this to you, they were wrong for telling her. That was your story, your trust you put in them and they didn’t protect it, they want you to be their sister but they need to act like one towards you to.”

You blink at her, taken aback by the unexpected validation. She picks through some herbs as she speaks, almost absentmindedly.

“It's a hard situation, we're all trying to learn and navigate through something we have no idea how to deal with.”

You nod, throat tight Eli gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

"It just needs some communication and boundary setting I think"

The conversation dips back into quiet as you both drift toward a stall selling fresh pastries. Eli eyes a tray of cinnamon-coated ensaimadas, then glances at you with a little conspiratorial smirk.

“They say the calories don’t count if you’re with company,” she says.

You chuckle. “Who says that?”

“Me. Just now.” She shrugs like she’s daring the universe to disagree.

You both laugh, and it’s real light, unforced. A moment you never imagined having with her, and yet here it is, folded in between fruit stalls and spice jars.

Eli hands you a warm pastry and takes one for herself, nodding toward a bench shaded by a canvas awning. You both sit, elbows brushing, the market humming around you like background music.

After a beat, Eli speaks again, softer this time, “I want you to know something.” You glance sideways at her, she doesn’t look at you yet just picks gently at a bit of sugar on her pastry. “I’m not trying to be the mami I gave up the right to be. I know I don’t get to come back into your life and just… pick up where we didn’t even start.”

You look at her then properly. She finally turns to meet your gaze.

“I just want to get to know you, as you, not the baby I lost. Not the girl I couldn’t raise. Just… the person you are now.”

Your chest tightens, but not painfully more like something protective inside you loosening, just a little.

She adds, quietly, “I want to be your friend. If you'll let me.”

You nod, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “I’d like that,” you say. “I think I would really like that.”

She smiles this time with her whole face, eyes shining just a little and two strangers who were never meant to be strangers sit and share sweet pastries in the quiet. After you finish your pastries, Eli doesn’t rush to stand, instead, she stretches her legs a little, brushing crumbs from her lap.

“Do you like flowers?” she asks casually.

You blink, then nod. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know a lot about them, but… yeah.”

She smiles and tilts her head toward a nearby corner where a small flower stall is almost bursting with colour. “Come on then.”

You follow her, and she walks with purpose not fast, but steady, as though she knows this exact route by heart. When she reaches the stall, she speaks easily with the older man running it, switching from warm Catalan to Spanish as needed. It’s clear she comes here often.

She gestures to a cluster of sunflowers. “These were your father’s favourite,” she says, almost casually but you notice the tremor in her voice.

You glance over, heart quietly thudding. “He had good taste.”

She chuckles softly. “He really did.” Then she looks at you, eyes soft. “You have his eyes, not the colour, in the way they move. Always watching people, thinking.” You feel yourself blush faintly and look away, unsure how to respond. She buys a small bunch sunflowers and white carnations and pays before you can even consider offering, “Come on,” she says gently. “There’s a little bench up by the fountain I used to take the girls to after shopping.”

You follow her again, the bouquet tucked gently under her arm, and as you both sit again, Eli pulls out a little plastic water bottle from her bag and carefully places the flowers inside.

You watch her quietly, something twisting deep in your chest. A strange feeling. Not pain exactly just the ache of unfamiliar comfort.

After a beat, you ask, softly without looking at her, “Do you miss him?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Every day.”

You pause. “Me too. And I didn’t even know him.”

There’s silence. But it’s full rich and sad and okay, eventually, she reaches over and gently touches your hand. “I’m proud of the woman you’ve become,” she says, voice trembling slightly. “Even if I had no part in making you her.”

You don’t cry not exactly, but the tears sting a little, and when she opens her arms, you don’t even hesitate.

You lean into her and, it feels like maybe something broken got stitched back together, even just a little.

After the fountain, after the tears, and after your arms had finally let go of each other, Eli tilted her head and smiled at you gently.

“We should do something completely superficial now,” she said, swiping at her cheek with a tissue and handing you one too. “Let’s go buy something neither of us needs.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Clothes?” you ask, half-laughing.

“Clothes,” she confirms, already rising and adjusting the bouquet in her bag like it’s simply a companion now.

You both end up walking to a quieter side street, tucked away from the usual tourist mess, into a little boutique that’s airy and bright and smells like lavender and fresh linen. It’s the kind of place you wouldn’t usually step into too polished, too elegant, but Eli seems at home, offering a polite wave to the woman behind the counter, who beams at her like they’re old friends.

“You really know everyone, don’t you?” you say under your breath.

“It’s a gift,” she replies, grinning.

She doesn’t rush you. Instead, she browses lightly, then subtly starts holding things up against you. A pale green sundress. A deep blue blouse. A soft cream cardigan.

You roll your eyes but secretly it’s nice, someone seeing you like this.

“What about this?” she says eventually, holding up a long wrap dress, black with little embroidered constellations scattered across it.

You pause. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s you,” she says simply, then adds with a little wink, “And it would drive Patri mad.”

You flush, laughing. “Okay, now it’s weird you're trying to dress me up for a woman didn't show any interest in me like that”

“I’m observant and I have daughters who gossip like they’re paid to do it.”

You turned back to the mirror to look at yourself in the mirror as you held the dress against you, "Then you probably heard me and her are over because of it"

"I heard. Surprisingly from Olga, not like her to gossip," Eli adjusts the fabric on your dress fussing like any mother would making sure you were holding up correctly, "It's a shame"

You hold your eyes in the mirror on her, "Is it?"

She hums, "I saw the way she looked at you, she cared for you"

"She didn't fancy me, she didn't want to-"

"Sex is not everything my dear, you want to find a woman who is your best friend who makes you laugh without trying because if you marry a dull woman who is great in bed, its not going to be great when you're bed bound with them and unable to" She stopped fiddling, "And you can have a lot of fun before you get to that part teaching them how to do it with your best friend"

You genuinely laughed, "Since you put it that way"

"Plus since my daughters love to gossip with there friends in my ear shot, from what i've heard, you wouldn't need to teach Patri a thing"

"Oh really?"

Eli nodded with a hum, "Really"

Eventually, you try on a few more things. She waits just outside the curtain, tossing in little comments now and then that are actually kind

When you finally step out in the constellation dress, she stills.

Her face shifts proud and quiet and a little sad all at once, “You look beautiful,” she says, not trying to oversell it. Just honest.

"You sure?"

She nods, "It's a little long but I can hem that no problem"

You look at yourself in the mirror. It's been a long time since you agreed. “Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s get it.”

As you change back, she pays for it, despite your protests, and when you step back out, she hands you the paper bag with a little smile.

“Everyone deserves to feel lovely in something once in a while. You especially.”

You leave the shop arm in arm, the sun warming the cobblestones, the weight in your chest just a little lighter.

You don’t talk about the past anymore that afternoon. Instead, you get iced coffees, walk back to her home, and people-watch. You tease her about how nosy she is. She tells you you’re too guarded.

You don’t correct her.

🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒

The door creaks as you push it open with your hip, a to go caffeine free coffee in one hand and the weight of a not quite healed argument still clinging to your shoulders. The office is quiet, too early for the usual hum of conversation or clatter of keys, but as you turn the corner, that hush is cut by the unmistakable sound of Olga’s sigh echoing dramatically through the space.

You glance up to find her seated at her desk, legs swinging slightly, head tilted back like she’s been trapped in the worst kind of purgatory, early morning admin with nothing to entertain her.

Beside her, slumped far less dramatically, is Alexia. One foot propped on a chair, hair tied in a messy low bun, her face is unreadable as she scrolls idly through something on her phone. She doesn’t even look up.

Your eyes linger on her a second too long before you catch yourself.

“Morning,” you say cordial but clipped.

Olga perks up immediately, flashing you a grin that feels about five percent mischief and ninety five percent cautious optimism. “There she is. Look at you, up early, looking fresh,”

You don’t answer that. You just give a polite smile, one corner of your mouth barely twitching up, and move past them to your desk.

Alexia finally looks over, her gaze lingers. She opens her mouth like she might say something but then shuts it again.

You pull out your chair, setting down your bag, then your drink, then the stack of papers you’d been meaning to sort through since last week. You focus on that, not on how still Alexia has gone, not on how the silence between you stretches taut like a wire.

“You two still not talking?” Olga asks with a huff, clearly talking to you but looking at Alexia.

You don’t respond, Alexia does, her tone dry. “Apparently not.”

You look up at that, sharp, eyes meeting hers, she doesn’t flinch, she never does. “It’s not about talking,” you say simply. “It’s about trusting.”

Alexia’s mouth tugs into something like a grimace, but she doesn’t push it further. Olga watches you both like a spectator at a tennis match, sensing she’s stepped into the tension without a helmet.

“Right. Cool. Love this vibe,” she mutters, sliding off her chair. “Think I’m gonna go make a very strong coffee and pretend this office isn’t emotionally suffocating.”

She wanders off, muttering under her breath, you and Alexia are left in the silence. You shuffle some papers, she crosses her arms and still she doesn't say she's sorry. You don’t ask her to and maybe that’s what’s worse than yelling. The not knowing if the bridge will be rebuilt or just left to rot quietly, unspoken between you.

The tension in the office doesn’t fade as the morning drags on. If anything, it lingers. You keep your head down, earbuds in, pretending to focus on an old training report that doesn’t need reviewing. But every so often, your eyes flick across the office, watching Alexia pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

She’s been restless since you got here, more than usual, it would be comical, her muttering under her breath, grumbling about the chair being too low, the air conditioning being too cold, and her phone battery mysteriously disappearing even though she’d definitely charged it last night, if it wasn’t so deeply, pointedly irritating.

Olga clearly thinks so. “Ale,” Olga finally groans from her chair, chin on her folded arms on the desk, “if you sigh one more time, I swear to god I’m going to glue your mouth shut with glue.”

Alexia, perched by the window with her injured ankle propped up on a small chair, whips her head around. “I’m just bored, okay? I’m meant to be training. This sitting around doing nothing shit is torture.”

“Oh, I hadn’t noticed.” Olga drags out the sarcasm like it physically pains her not to be dramatic. “You’ve only rearranged the pens on my desk three times.”

You fight the small smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. You don’t want to find this funny, you don’t want to enjoy anything about Alexia right now, but her pout is so real and so unintentionally childish that you can’t help it.

Alexia glares at Olga, then sighs, again, deliberately and leans back in the chair like she’s being punished.

“I just feel useless,” she mutters. “Everyone’s training, everyone’s doing something, and I’m… sitting here. Waiting to heal.”

That flicker of guilt stings in your chest. You know the feeling stalled, stuck, waiting for something inside you to stop aching. Olga speaks “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before deciding to take on a five a side match against literal children.”

“They were talking shit,” Alexia mumbles defensively.

“They were nine, Alexia.” That earns a short, begrudging chuckle even from you, there’s a pause and then Olga, not bothering to lower her voice, says, “You know, this would all be more tolerable if you weren’t also in your feelings about the whole Y/N thing.”

You freeze, Alexia doesn’t, she just exhales sharply and glares at Olga. “Can you not?”

“What? It’s the truth.” Olga props herself up on one elbow, expression flattened with that all too familiar tone of blunt affection. “You’re moping. It’s annoying and Y/N is literally right there trying to work while you do it.”

You don’t look up, you click something at random on your screen ad you hear Alexia shift. “I’m not moping,” she says too quickly.

“You are and you screwed up and I know you know that and I know you want to fix it, but you don’t know how to do that without being defensive or emotionally constipated.”

You finally glance up, just in time to catch Alexia looking completely murderous, but she doesn’t deny it.

Olga shrugs. “Look, I’m team you two work it out. I am, but either do something about it or stop because I swear to god if you reorganise those pens one more time, I’m going to scream.” You stifle a laugh behind your hand, Alexia throws a stress ball at her, it bounces off Olga’s head with a dull thud. “You throw like you injured your arm not your ankle,” she mutters, catching it lazily.

Alexia doesn’t respond. You keep your eyes on the screen even though you’ve reread the same sentence four times and absorbed none of it.

Then, finally, she moves tentative steps with her good leg, crutch under one arm as she hobbles the short distance across the office toward you.

Olga mutters something under her breath probably a sarcastic prayer or warning but neither of you acknowledge it.

Alexia stops just short of your desk, eyes soft but cautious. Like someone approaching a skittish animal. Like she knows one wrong word and you’ll bolt. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” she asks, voice quiet.

You don't look up right away, you feel her hesitate, but she doesn't walk away. She waits, like Patri used to, but less sure of herself. You sigh when she doesn't give up, close your laptop lid, and glance up expression blank, but not cold.

She shifts her weight awkwardly, adjusting the crutch. “I know you’re still upset with me,” she says, with no forced emotion. “And I deserve that. I do.”

You stare at her a beat longer than necessary. Then finally, you exhale and softly, almost without thinking you ask, “How long are you out for?”

It’s not forgiveness, but it’s not nothing either. Alexia blinks at you, surprised. Then her shoulders loosen a bit. “Three weeks, maybe four. Depends how it heals. Sprained it playing five-a-side with the neighbours' kids,” she adds, half-smiling, a little self-deprecating.

You hum, barely amused. “Heard they were nine.”

“One of them did a roulette nutmeg and called me abuela. I panicked.” You don’t laugh, but the corner of your mouth twitches, she notices but she doesn’t push. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she says quietly, no speech, no excuse, just that. “What I said to Patri… it wasn’t mine to share. I know that now.”

You nod. Just once. It's small, but it's acknowledgment, “You didn’t mean to hurt me,” you say, your voice calm but not warm.

Alexia shakes her head, eyes a little sad. “No, but I did.”

That hangs between you both for a second, it isn’t a full olive branch accepted but you didn’t break it either and that’s something.

“So…” she starts, way too casual for someone who knows she’s about to prod at something delicate. “You and Patri. Still broken up?”

You keep your gaze forward, flipping aimlessly through your paperwork, even though nothing on it matters. “Yeah. Seems it”

She nods like she expected that. Then, “Because you didn’t have sex?”

You close your eyes for a second, then nod slowly and you were still not looking at her.

Alexia doesn’t miss a beat, “Why did you not just sleep with her then?”

You blink and blink again, then turn to her with the slow, painful precision of someone trying not to yell in a hospital zone. “Oh wow, Alexia,” you say, voice dry as desert air, “that never occurred to me at all.”

She has the decency to wince a little but doesn’t back off. Classic Putellas. “I just meant—”

“What? That I should’ve sucked it up and gone for it? Pretended I’m not completely terrified every time someone sees me without clothes on?”

She pauses and you keep going, not angry exactly, just exposed.

“I didn’t not sleep with her because I just didn't feel like it. I didn’t because I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, Alexia. I didn’t because I was scared she’d look at me and change her mind”

Alexia is quiet now. The kind of quiet that means she’s finally listening instead of trying to fix it with a one-liner and a shrug.

You sigh, shaking your head, rubbing at your temple. “I didn’t need someone to sleep with me. I needed someone to make me feel like I could be seen and still be wanted. She barely showed she wanted me clothed so you can only imagine how I thought she would be when I wasn't”

There’s a beat and then, gently quiet in a way she rarely is, “She did want you. She does want you.”

Alexia stares at you like she’s genuinely baffled, her brow furrowed in that intense, earnest way she reserves for both Champions League finals and your emotional wellbeing.

“You’re beautiful,” she says, like it’s fact, like it's obvious, like it physically pains her that you don’t agree. “Why do you not see that?”

You blink at her, deadpan, then gesture vaguely at her elevated leg, wrapped in ice, her sock rolled halfway down and a grimace still lingering from earlier. “You have an ankle,” you reply, dry as ever. “Why don’t you just use it?”

Her mouth opens slightly, stunned into silence for a second before she bursts into a begrudging laugh, head dropping back against the wall behind her. “Okay, fine,” she mutters, smiling despite herself. “Point taken.”

You allow yourself the smallest smirk before glancing back at your notes, the moment settling between you, you look up just in time to see Alexia limping over, dragging the chair beside your desk.

She plops down beside you with a sigh, resting her ankle on another chair, and then fixes you with a look that already makes you brace yourself. “Okay,” she says, “this is going to be an awkward conversation, considering you're my little sister…”

You immediately groan, putting your pen down. “Do we have to”

“Let me finish,” she insists, holding up a hand like she’s the adult in this sibling dynamic, which somehow makes it worse. You cringe, already regretting whatever impulse let her get within ten feet of you, “Patri thought you were sexy.”

You squeeze your eyes shut like it’ll block out her voice. “Stop it.”

“No, no, listen, before we even knew who you were, she used to go on about you all the time. Always bragging about how attractive you were. Like, stupid obsessed.”

You peek at her, horrified, “Are you done?”

“Not even close,” she says brightly. “She showed you off like a proud dog mami, Y/N. I mean, full-on ‘look at her, isn’t she perfect’ vibes. She’d find any excuse to bring you up and not just about your face either, which, yes, she liked, weirdly.”

You groan again, sinking into your seat.

“She loved that you were funny when you let yourself be. Said you had this dry, clever kind of humour that made her feel like she had to earn your laugh.”

There’s a silence then, not heavy, but not nothing either.

Alexia shrugs, “I’m just saying, it was never about you not being enough. If anything, I think she thought you were too good for her"

You don’t say anything for a second, then, quieter, “She still left.”

Alexia nods, softer now, “Yeah, but maybe she was just doing what you asked her to do”

You glance down at your hands, the silence stretches a little further this time, then Alexia clears her throat and leans back.

“Okay, I’m done being the emotionally available big sister. This ankle is killing me and I’m bored again.”

You huff out a small laugh despite yourself. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” she corrects, kicking her good foot up onto your desk. “And I deserve snacks for this emotional labour.”

You slide a granola bar across the desk toward her without looking. “Take it and never speak again.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, grinning.

Alexia starts absently fiddling with your pens, spinning one between her fingers before clicking it three times in rapid succession like she’s testing the exact frequency that will break your brain. Then she lines them up not straight, of course, but just off enough to trigger every urge you have to fix them.

You stare at her, “Can you not?”

She grins, “I’m stimulating the creative environment.”

You reach out and unceremoniously shove her foot off your desk, “Stimulate a job. Somewhere else.”

"Can we stop saying stimulate" Olga muttered as she shuddered at the word

She dramatically recoils like you’ve just committed a war crime. “Violence against the injured? Disgusting.”

You glare. “It’s no wonder Alba’s always angry. Growing up with you? I’d be furious every day of my life to.”

Alexia smirks, unfazed. “She is and she still texts me first every time she needs to vent. That’s the power of charm.”

You roll your eyes and start fixing your pens back into their proper place, muttering under your breath. “More like the power of shared trauma.”

“Tomato, tomahto,” she sings, now tapping out a rhythm on the edge of your desk with another pen like a toddler who’s discovered percussion.

You shoot her a look that promises death, “You’re lucky you’re injured.”

“I know,” she grins. “It’s the only thing keeping me interesting this week.” You sigh, long suffering, and reach for your headphones the only line of defence you still have. “I’ll tell Alba you said she’s angry, by the way.”

“I said always angry, not just angry. There’s a difference.”

She laughs like she’s won something, and somehow, you suspect she kind of has.

[rynwrites4fun]

Eyes On Me (2) | Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader

Jack Abbot x f! Popstar ! Reader

Summary: It’s been almost a year since that night in Pittsburgh. You and Jack still hold tightly to the memory of it. After stepping away from the spotlight, you return with an EP titled Tethered, a raw and honest reflection of your mental health journey. Now, back in Pittsburgh, everything comes full circle when you find yourself in the ER, again. 

Word Count: 5792

Warnings: Age Gap (mid 20’s/late 40’s or early 50’s,) Mentions of mental health struggles 

Author's Note: Part 2!!! Thank you for all the love!!! I’m not sure how many parts this fic will have, but we’ll see. Lol I’m dead. I spent this week staying up late at night, busting this out because I’m impulsive. again sorry for any grammatical errors and/or inaccuracies. I’ll go through and fix it later. Tag list??? Let me know. Comment or message me if you wanna be on it. - ryn

East Coast / Pittsburg ER Night Shift  9:25pm

“Everyone’s favorite pop princess is back!”

It’s been almost a year since the pop star stepped away from the spotlight after collapsing backstage after performing her sold-out concert in Pittsburgh—the 22 out of 36 across North America. She was rushed to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital, where she was treated for extreme fatigue and exhaustion.

Shortly after, her team unexpectedly announced that the remainder of the tour was canceled, with plans to reschedule for future dates.

Just a few days later, the singer posted a heartfelt video on Instagram, opening up about her mental health struggles and her decision to take a step back in order to prioritize her well-being.”

Doctor Jack Abbot stood in the doorway of Exam Room 15, arms crossed. Inside, Doctor John Shen sat hunched over a patient’s foot, suturing needle suspended mid-air like he’d forgotten what he was doing. His eyes were fixed on the television mounted in the corner, where a glittering news segment about you played at full volume.

“An outpouring of support followed—and now, she’s back and ready to start again. 

Just a little over a week ago, she teased her upcoming EP Tethered—her first post since announcing her break from the spotlight. Now, the highly anticipated project is set to drop in just a couple of weeks, marking not just a return to music, but a raw, intimate glimpse into the journey she’s been on since stepping away.” 

Jack clicked the remote. The television turns black.

“Hey—I was watching that!” John protested, finally snapping out of it with a frown.

“Yeah, we were watching that,” the teenage patient echoed, craning her neck to stare at Jack.

“Are you planning to finish that suture today, or are we diagnosing patients with pop culture updates now?” Jack raised his eyebrows and he was slightly annoyed. 

John rolled his eyes as he returned to the suture.

“Thought you’d want to know what she’s been up to lately—y’know, after everything.” He sideeyes Jack.

His tone was light, but the implication hung in the air—referencing what had happened months ago between Jack and you. 

Jack had thought of you more than he cared to admit since that night. You kept slipping into his thoughts—uninvited, unexpected. He wondered if you were okay. If the weight you carried had gotten any lighter. If you’d found some kind of peace.

And now, it felt like the world wouldn’t let him forget. You weren’t just famous—you were inescapable. You’re everywhere. 

He started noticing you in places he never had before.

Your music plays on the radio.

Your face flashing across the TVs.

Your eyes staring back at him from magazine covers and newspapers at the checkout line.

You are woven into the background of his daily life—like a habit he hadn’t realized he’d formed.

The patient raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Wait— something happened between you and her?” she asked, glancing between the two doctors. 

Her tone was casual, but her eyes lit up with the kind of interest reserved for celebrity drama.

Jack shot John a look—sharp and silent, the kind that spoke volumes. It was enough to make John glance away, the tension hanging in the air.

The moment passed quickly, and Jack returned to the patient’s chart, pretending to focus on the words in front of him. But his mind wasn’t really on the chart anymore. His grip on the chart tightened, just slightly.

“Nothing worth talking about,” he said, too quickly to sound convincing. John gave him a sideways glance but didn’t say anything as he continued to stitch. 

The patient wasn’t buying it. “C’mon,” she pressed, grinning. “You totally knew her, didn’t you?”

Jack finally looked up, his expression unreadable.

“I treated her. One night. That’s all.”

He never mentioned what transpired between the two of you on the roof—not to anyone. Not even to Doctor Michael Robinavitch, his good friend, the one he told everything to. 

He never told anyone how he’d told you he saw her—really saw you. How you opened up because of that, because he looked past everything the world expected you to be. And the flirting that had slipped into their conversations, soft and unexpected, blurring the lines between doctor and patient—those moments felt more intimate than they should have.

That was between him and you—his to keep. That night meant something. It stayed with him.He didn’t like talking about you. Not because it didn’t matter, but because it did. He keeps things close. What’s real, he guards. Some things aren’t meant to be shared.

Jack shoved the thought of you to the back of his mind, compartmentalizing. He had to focus on the dozen patients they were juggling, a constant reality of being short-staffed. They had to move quickly and work efficiently, no matter the strain.

“Doctor Shen, let’s stitch and go—we’ve got a waiting room that’s about to riot.” 

And with that, he was gone. 

—

West Coast / Los Angeles Therapy Session 6:25pm

“How have you been feeling lately?" your therapist asks during the video call.

You were in a better mindset since Pittsburgh. That night changed everything for you. You got the help you needed. You were still working through things—unpacking, unlearning, rebuilding. It was a process, but you had found moments of peace along the way.

“Okay… just nervous, I guess.” You toyed with the strings of my hoodie—Jack’s hoodie. You’d kept it since that night. You wore it whenever I needed grounding, like some sacred ritual. It hung loose on you, weighted in all the right ways.

His scent still lingered—clean soap, and something warmer, something him. It slowed your pulse, quieted the noise in your  head.

It brought you back to the roof. To the way he looked at you, how our deep conversations slowly melted into flirty, playful banter. But mainly a quiet reminder that, just for a moment, you weren’t alone. You were seen.

“And what’s making you feel nervous?”

“I’m releasing an EP in a couple weeks called “Tethered”. It’s rooted in that night in Pittsburgh—what happened, what shifted—and everything that’s unfolded since. At its core, it’s about my ongoing healing journey. Honestly, it started as something just for me. I never thought it would see the light of day. But my team really encouraged me to share it.

“One of the songs off the EP, Eyes On Me.. its about…Jack”

Nobody knows about you and Jack—on the roof, beside your therapist. You never mentioned that he was a doctor. You knew the lines had blurred between the two of you in ways they shouldn’t have, but they did.

Your team sees the person you’re singing about in “Eyes On Me”—the one who witnessed your struggle, who saw you at your absolute lowest—as just a fictional creation, a character you invented for the song. They think it's all a metaphor, like it’s some kind of story you wrote to make sense of it all.

You swallow hard, the weight of your words lingering in the air.

 "The thought of him hearing it... I can’t help but wonder what he’d think," you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. "If he heard the song... if he knew it was about that night, about him. Would he recognize it? Would he even remember me at all? It’s been almost a year since that night—the only time we met. I don’t even know if it meant the same to him. For me, it felt like something—something that stuck with me, something I’ll never forget. What if it didn’t matter to him the way it mattered to me? What if I’m the only one still holding on?"

A hollow laugh slips from you as you cover your face with your hands, trying to hide the vulnerability spilling out.

 “I feel delusional,” you say through a cracked smile. “What am I even doing? Holding on to a moment that probably meant nothing to him…I only knew him for a couple of hours. I don’t really know anything about him, but there was just… something. A pull. I don’t know—” You shake your head, frustration rising, but the words still come out soft and unsure.

The therapist studies you for a moment, her expression calm and steady. 

“That night clearly left a mark on you,” she says gently, her voice warm but not pushing. “And it’s okay to wish it meant something to him too. But the connection you felt—that was real. Your experience is valid, even if his was different.”

“I don’t know if I'll ever see him again…I'm headed back to Pittsburgh for a listening party for the EP... it feels like a full-circle moment. From that night when my mental health was at its lowest, to now, with all the growth and healing I've been through.”

“​​Sometimes, we don’t get closure with certain people, and that can be hard. But look at how far you���ve come. You’ve turned your pain into something beautiful—this EP is a true reflection of your resilience. That’s powerful. No matter what happens with him or that chapter, that strength and growth are yours, and no one can take that away from you.”

“I think this listening party isn’t just a celebration of your music—it’s a ceremony for your healing. Let it be both.”

—

ER Shift Change 7:00am

Doctor Michael Robinavitch approached the staff lockers, slowing when he noticed his friend seated nearby, thumbing through a magazine. Not just any magazine—that magazine. The one with the exclusive article about you.

He didn’t have to see the cover to know. He recognized the way Jack’s shoulders tensed, how his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Jack never really talked about you. Not out loud. Not often. What happened that night—what you meant—was a line he rarely crossed in conversation.

Jack was a private guy, especially when it came to certain things. You were one of them. Maybe the biggest one. Whenever your name came up, there was always a pause. A shift in his eyes. 

Michael lingered for a moment, uncertain whether to speak, unsure if Jack would even welcome it. Some subjects, no matter how long it’s been, never lose their weight.

“You know didn’t peg you for a gossip mag guy,” teased, eyebrows raised as he hovered over Jack’s shoulder. 

Startled, Jack shut the magazine he was reading at his locker with a sharp flick, the glossy pages snapping closed. Your face had been on the front cover—radiant, composed, and unmistakably you. Exclusive: ‘Tethered’ EP—A Raw Look Into Her Mental Health Journey

“I’m not—” he started, then stopped. He didn’t have a good excuse. Or maybe he didn’t need one.“Was just… flipping through,” he muttered, but the warmth in his ears gave him away. He rolled the magazine up in his hands.

Michael chuckled softly, not unkindly. Michael opened his locker to put his bag inside. 

“Uh-huh, ‘just flipping through.’” He gave a small, knowing smile, shutting his locker closed. 

Michael wasn’t stupid. He could tell there had been something between you two. The way Jack’s gaze softened when you kissed his cheek the morning you were discharged, the quiet look that lingered on his face long after you’d left—it was all too telling.

Michael realized that day somehow, Jack had a game. A pop star? Who knew?

“You know, I’m still impressed you managed to pull a pop star. Still trying to figure out how you pulled that off…” He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself.

“That’s not what happened, Robby,” Jack’s voice held a hint of annoyance.

“Oh really? Because that goodbye you two had when she was discharged? That told me otherwise.” Michael leaned casually against the staff lockers, his eyes glinting with amusement. A teasing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as if he were savoring the quiet drama unfolding.

“You’re reading way too much into it.” He busied himself adjusting the strap on his backpack, eyes flicking anywhere but Michael.

“I’m calling what I see…There was something there, Jack. And if there wasn’t—if you didn’t feel anything—you wouldn’t still be following her career.” He gestured to the magazine. “Don’t try to deny it.” 

Jack grabbed his backpack from his open locker, his hands a little too quick as he shoved the magazine inside, like it could somehow erase the evidence.

“That was almost a year ago.” He said it like he was trying to convince himself more than Michael. “People move on.” He shut his locker closed, jaw was tight, and he still wasn’t meeting Michael’s eyes. 

“Clearly you haven’t” 

“It was a moment! That's it. People have those. Doesn’t mean I’m still holding on.” He was lying to himself. He knew it. Michael knew it. But admitting it felt like giving something away—something private, fragile, still half-formed. Like handing over a piece of himself he hadn’t even figured out yet. Something he wasn’t ready to name, let alone explain.

The truth was, part of him felt stupid wishful thinking. Fantasizing about seeing you again.

If he had seen you—if by some miracle you were really here—then what? What was he supposed to do? What would he even say?

What would he want to happen?

You were a popstar, living a life worlds away from his own. Flashing cameras, tour buses, screaming fans. And he was just a doctor—steady, rooted, buried in shift schedules and hospital scrubs. You knew nothing about each other beside that.

Michael leaned against the locker beside him, arms crossed. “You know what the funny thing is, Jack? You keep saying it was just a moment—like that makes it mean less.”

Jack didn’t reply, just stared at the locker door like it had the answers he didn’t.

“But sometimes,” Michael continued, his voice softer now, “a moment is enough to change everything. Doesn’t matter if it lasted an hour or a lifetime. If it’s stuck with you this long, it wasn’t nothing. It’s okay to hold on to it.”

He glanced toward the hallway, then back at Jack.

“Hell, maybe she hasn’t let it go either.” He shrugs walking, leaving Jack standing alone. 

—

Couple Weeks Later Somewhere in Pittsburg 12:00am

You were in a cozy, intimate setting for a secret listening party of your EP, Tethered. The lights were low, the air humming with anticipation, and the space—filled with warm glows from fairy lights and quiet chatter—felt more like a living room than a venue. You’d invited a small group of your day-one fans to share this moment with you, the ones who had been there through every rough demo, late-night live, and cryptic lyric drop.

“Thank you all for being here,” you said, stepping up with a soft smile, your voice carrying just enough nervous excitement to make the moment feel even more real. Kind of a full circle moment to be back here..”

“All the tracks on Tethered are really personal to me,” you began, eyes scanning the room, landing briefly on a few familiar faces. “But Eyes on Me... that one’s the heartbeat of the whole thing. It was the first song I wrote for the EP—and, honestly, it’s the reason the EP even exists.”

You paused, pulling Jack's hoodie back up your shoulder. 

“It’s about what it means to be truly seen by someone,” you said softly. “Not just looked at, not just watched—but seen. All these eyes are on me, you know? But they… they’re the only ones who really see me. Past the noise. Past the stage. Past the version of me I sometimes feel I have to be.”

“This EP… it captures what happened. What shifted. Everything that’s unfolded since I took a step back. At its core, it’s about my healing journey. It’s messy, it’s raw, it’s honest. It’s a piece of myself… that I’m finally ready to share.”

You let the words linger, settling into the quiet that followed. Then you looked up, offering a small, almost shy smile—like you were still getting used to being that open, that scene.

“Anyway… I hope you hear something in it that speaks to you. That makes you feel less alone.”

And with that, the first notes began to play. 

ER Nightshift 12:00am

Surprisingly, it was a calm night at the ER. The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting a steady glow, an unexpected peace hanging in the air. John sat at one of the computers in central, nodding along to music.

Jack knew John was probably listening to something during the rare downtime before they inevitably got slammed, but he didn’t pay it much attention. Jack was rummaging through some file cabinets when he heard it. 

All these eyes on me,But you're the one who truly sees.

Jack froze. He’d heard those words before. He turned around. His eyes narrowed at the computer monitor where John sat, absorbed in the music. The EP cover glowed from the open tab: Tethered. Track four: Eyes on Me. Your anticipated new music.

He read the title. Read it again. Listening to the words, his chest tightened. His throat went dry.

All these eyes on me,But you're the one who truly sees.On this roof, in quiet space,We connect beyond time and place,With every glance, a playful tease,In your gaze, I find my ease.

It wasn’t just a song. It wasn’t subtle. Every line peeled back something buried deep—something from that night.

He knew this one all too well, even though he was only hearing it for the first time now. And it was about him. You’d written a song about him. For all to hear.

He didn’t know how to feel. 

Part of him wanted to smile—to let that flicker of warmth rise in his chest, because it meant the moment mattered. It wasn’t fleeting or imagined. You’d remembered the rooftop. The quiet. Him.

But another part—the louder one—felt exposed, like a curtain had been yanked back on something he's hiding. And suddenly, it felt like the whole ER, maybe even the whole world, could see a piece of him he hadn’t meant to share.

It was beautiful. And it was too much.

“Are you good?” John side-eyes Jack and furrows his brows. 

Jack didn’t answer.  It felt like everything he’d kept buried was now out in the open, like someone had drawn a map to his heart and handed it to the world.

Jack swallowed hard, trying to push the knot in his throat down. It’s just a song, he reminded himself. But the weight of it—the rawness—was impossible to ignore. He had been okay when it was just a memory. Just something in his head. But hearing it, hearing it out there, made it real in a way he wasn’t ready for.

“I’m fine,” Jack said finally, the words tumbling out too quickly to be convincing. He continues rummaging through the file cabinets. His voice was tight, strained. “Just... processing.”

John raised an eyebrow, studying Jack carefully. “Processing?” he echoed, his gaze shifting from Jack’s rigid shoulders to his face, searching for something more than just a surface reply.

Jack nodded, though it felt hollow, like an answer he wasn't fully sold on himself. “Yeah. Processing.”

John let out a small, knowing sigh. "Okay, sure… 'Processing.'" He wasn’t fooled. He knew this routine well—had seen it before. Jack’s way of shutting down, of keeping things locked behind that wall

“Don’t,” Jack muttered as he grabbed the file he was looking for. He knew that John knew the song—the one John was playing—was about him and Jack could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air.

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” John said, raising his hand in mock surrender. His eyebrows lifted in teasing challenge, and he swiveled his chair back to face the computer screen. He took a sip from his paper cup, the straw making a faint squeak as it drained the last of his drink. “But, you know… it’s not every day you get a song written about you by a pop star,” John added, his voice light, but the glint in his eyes told a different story.

Annoyed, Jack glanced over his shoulder, giving John a hard stare. He let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in frustration. Without saying a word, he slammed the file cabinet shut, the sound sharp in the quiet ER.

He turned on his heel and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the hallway.

“Oh, come on, Jack—don’t be like that,” John called after him, a smirk tugging at his lips. “It’s just a little joke. Besides, it’s kinda cool, right? A song written about you. That’s not something most people can say.”

John leaned back in his chair, glancing over his shoulder, still trying to gauge Jack’s mood. “I mean, if it were me, I’d be riding that wave for weeks. But hey, you do you.”

—

A Few Days Later, Pittsburg 3:50pm

You were getting lunch, walking through Pittsburgh, when it all went down. A few paparazzi spotted you—nothing unusual. You even chatted with them for a minute, trying to keep things light. But it got out of hand fast. Word must’ve spread that you were in town after the secret listening party, and before long, more and more cameras swarmed you. What started as a few polite questions turned into a frenzy. You’d been laying low for several days, but it seemed like the buzz had finally caught up to you.

It had been almost a year since you’d been in the spotlight, so you understood the interest—but this? This was overwhelming. Shouting. Flashbulbs. A sudden wave of bodies. Your anxiety builds quickly.

Somehow, you slipped away from the crowd and darted down a narrow alley, desperate to get a moment to breathe. But as you rounded a corner, your foot caught on something and you tripped hard. Pain shot through your ankle as you landed, and you let out a sharp gasp. Trying to get up, you realized your ankle wouldn’t hold. You fumbled for your phone, hands shaking, and called an Uber to get you to the nearest hospital.

The ride blurred by. You leaned your head against the window, trying not to cry—not just from the pain, but from feeling cornered. The chaos. The feeling that even the sidewalk had turned on you. But you cried—that slow, quiet kind of crying that sneaks out despite your best efforts. The kind that doesn’t ask for attention but slips down your cheek anyway.

Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center loomed ahead. You shifted, biting your lip as you left the car.

Inside, the fluorescent lights felt too bright, the antiseptic smell sharp in your nose. Nurses moved briskly. Voices echoed down hallways. 

Jack

The thought hit before you could stop it. You knew he only worked nights, and this was hours too early for him to be here. Still, your eyes searched the faces of passing staff, your heart betraying you with the tiniest sliver of hope.

You limped into the ER, leaning heavily on your left foot, each step sending sharp jolts of pain up your leg. At the triage desk, the nurse barely acknowledged your presence, her eyes fixed on the clipboard in front of her as she asked in a flat, uninterested tone, “Name?”

You took a breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. You give your name. “I think I sprained my ankle?” you muttered, unsure— the words feeling insignificant against the noise in your head.

She scribbled something down and pointed to a row of empty chairs. “Take a seat, please. We’ll get to you soon.”

You lowered yourself slowly into a chair, still trying to steady your breath. The pain in your ankle was sharp and constant, each throb a reminder. You glanced around the room, your mind scattered. The waiting area was quiet, filled only with the low hum of fluorescent lights.

You were a little worried someone might recognize you. But no one looked up. Everyone had their own problems—sick, injured, too wrapped up in their own pain to care.

It felt like hours, but finally, they called your name. The nurse rolled over a wheelchair and carefully helped you into it, the cold wheels rolling over the linoleum floor. You winced slightly as your foot shifted.

They rolled you into the ER, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the quiet hum of machines filling the air. The fluorescent lights above pass in a blur. As the wheel chair rolled down the hallway, your eyes drifted to a large medical room where a team of doctors clustered around someone in critical condition, working fast, urgent.

And that’s when you saw him.

Doctor Jack Abbot—the man you thought about almost every day since that night, months ago.

Even beneath the blue paper gown, gloves, and safety glasses, you knew it was him. The way he moved. The shape of him. The salt-and-pepper curls. He worked with steady, practiced urgency, surrounded by other doctors, trying to save a life.

And then, as if he felt someone watching, he looked up—through the glass doors—and his eyes met yours. 

Your breath hitched. Your heart stopped. Your mouth slightly agape as you stared.

It felt exactly like the first time your laid eyes on each other—like time had slowed just for the two of you. But this time, it didn’t just slow. It stopped completely. Everything else faded away.

He looked away… but then did a double take.

Did he recognize you?

For a moment, he froze—still in the middle of it all, just staring. But then something pulled him back to the moment, to the patient, to the life in his hands.

The nurse guided the wheelchair to a small exam area and helped you settle into the exam bed.

“Just a moment, a doctor will be right in with you” she said, her tone soft but brisk, before she disappeared through the door, leaving you alone in the sterile, quiet room.

You leaned back on the propped but exam bed, trying to focus on your breathing, but it wasn’t easy. The sharp pain in your foot made it hard to keep your thoughts clear. You couldn’t tell if it was the physical discomfort or the rush of emotions that had hit you when you saw him just now—maybe it was a little bit of both. A strange mix of relief and anxiety twisted inside you, and for a moment, you just closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself.

You saw him. You thought about this moment countless of times. What’s gonna happen? What is he gonna say or do? Countless questions swirled in your mind.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Robinavitch,” he says, distracted, eyes scanning your chart.

Your eyes shoot open, snapping you out of your racing thoughts.

“—everyone just calls me Dr. Robby. What seems to be the—”

He stops mid-sentence the moment he looks up and sees your face.

“It’s you—”

You offer a small, uncertain smile, assuming he recognizes you from TV or a magazine. “Yeah…”

But then he says it—casually, like it’s obvious.

“Jack’s girl.”

Jack’s girl? Oh, you shouldn’t like the sound of that. But the way your heart reacts says otherwise.

“Um… I’m sorry?” Your eyes widen, unsure how to respond.

Michael blinks, the words hanging in the air heavier than he meant them to be. He hadn’t planned to say that out loud.

Jack’s girl.That’s what he’d called you in his head for months—the pop star with the lingering presence, the one his friend never really talked about, but never quite let go of either. She had written a song about Jack.

Even if it was just one night. Even if it happened almost a year ago. The impact of it still echoed, apparently, in both of you.

Michael clears his throat, shifting slightly. “Sorry—”

“I think you know my friend… Dr. Abbot, right?” he asks, even though he already knew the answer. 

“Yeah,” you say softly.

“I remember you,” he says, studying you a little more closely now. “From the morning you were discharged. The sparkly boots, the whole vibe… hard to forget.” He chuckles. “You were also wearing—”

His gaze drops to the hoodie you’re wearing. Recognition sparks in his expression.

“That hoodie, actually,” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Jack’s hoodie.”

Your face falls, heat rushing to your cheeks. A wave of embarrassment crawls up your neck. For a split second, you wish the floor would crack open beneath you and swallow you whole. It felt like being exposed—like something intimate had slipped into the open before you were ready to claim it.

“You still have the hoodie you stole…” Michael teases, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t steal it,” you say quickly, fiddling with the strings self-consciously at . “I… borrowed it.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “Right. I borrowed it. For, what—almost a year?”

That’s when Michael understood—really understood. He saw it in the way you fiddled with the hoodie strings—absentminded, protective. It wasn’t just something you threw on. It was a memory you hadn’t let go of.

He smiled, quietly, as if he knew something unspoken.

It wasn’t just a fleeting encounter between you and Jack. There was something deeper there, something unfinished. Something still waiting to be figured out. A connection neither of you had let go of, even after all this time.

Michael notices the way your expression tightens, the puffiness in your eyes, how your fingers keep fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie.

He gives a small nod, almost to himself, then clears his throat. “Anyway,” he says, pivoting smoothly, “What seems to be the problem?’

Robby glances down at your ankle, then back up at you, his expression soft but tense.

You shift uncomfortably. “I was running,” you mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, just looks at you, reading between the lines. He knows.

“Let me guess—press?” he asks, voice calm but edged with concern.

You nod, sniffling and wiping some tears. 

You explain what happened as he examines it.

“You really shouldn’t be out there alone,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. Then, meeting your eyes, he adds, “You okay?”

You shake your head, honesty breaking through.

“It was scary,” you admit quietly. “I haven’t felt that much anxiety in a long time.”

He’s gentle when he lifts your leg, supporting it with one hand while the other presses, prods, checks. His touch is clinical, but careful—like he knows how much more than your ankle might be hurting right now. 

He doesn’t rush. Don't talk just to fill the space. He gives you the silence, like it’s something he knows you need.

After a minute, he meets your eyes. “Doesn’t feel broken. Probably a sprain. We’ll get an X-ray to be sure.” He grabs your chart and starts taking notes down.

You nodded. You needed to think about something else, to calm your nerves. 

Fiddling with your sleeves, you brought up Jack. 

“I… I thought Doctor Abbot worked nights?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays you—too soft, too curious.

“I just… I didn’t think he’d be here” you murmured, more to yourself than to Michael.

“You saw him,” Michael stated. 

"He and a few other doctors were working on someone when the nurse was rolling me in.”

Ah, Michael thought. The construction worker who fell. He’d gone off the scaffolding—twenty feet, more. 

“He mainly works nights. but shows up when no one expects him to. Picks up day shifts sometimes when we’re short… or when he’s restless.”

Michael doesn’t say more. Jack was already unraveling, barely keeping it together. Ever since your song about him came out, Jack's been burying himself in work—double shifts, anything to stay distracted. He'd been running on fumes for days, and now this?

If Jack had seen you when you saw him, he was probably already internally freaking out as he worked on the patient in the trauma room, Michael thought. And once Jack found out you’d been chased down and hurt? That would be the thing to finally push him over the edge. His friend is going to combust. 

—

“He’s stable,” a nurse called out, eyes on the monitor. “BP’s 122 over 78. Holding steady.”

Jack exhaled, blood still on his gloves, sweat at his temple. The last thirty minutes had been a race—working to stop internal bleeding on a construction worker who’d fallen from scaffolding.

“Dr. Abbot, you good?” John asked, adjusting the ventilator. “You zoned out for a second back there.”

“I just…” he swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I thought I saw someone—” 

Jack froze mid-movement, halfway through peeling off his gown. His eyes flicked toward the glass doors across the ER. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He’d been working nonstop lately, trying to distract himself. Now, because he was so exhausted, he was starting to think he was seeing things — but not just anything. He was seeing you.

“Just— find me if something changes” 

He stripped off his gown and gear, tossed them into the hazard bin, and pushed through the double swinging doors of the trauma room, heading straight for the triage board.

When he reached the triage board, his eyes immediately scanned for your name. And there it was—East Wing, Exam Room 15.

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his jaw tightening.

“What?” he whispered to himself, his eyebrows furrowing. 

Even as your name stared back at him, his mind refused to accept it. He blinked twice, as though trying to clear some phantom fog, but nothing changed. It couldn’t be you. There was no way. His pulse quickened, his instincts warring with the impossible thought that somehow, despite everything, it was you.

What were you doing in Pittsburgh? What the hell were you doing in his ER?

He was hoping—praying—you weren’t at rock bottom again, despite all the press about you being in a better place since then.

His mind spun through a hundred possibilities, each more reckless than the last.

With a deep breath, he made his way down the hall to the East Wing. As he approached Exam Room 15, he heard Michael’s voice, followed by the unmistakable sound of your laugh.

He paused for a split second at the door, a knot of disbelief tightening in his chest, then pushed it open with haste And there you were. It was you.

[ddeokz]

STAY WITH ME ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ 신이 우릴 허락 안 해도 - J.SC

trope down bad!sungchan x clueless!reader ⊹₊⋆ fluff, (it’s tooth rotting fluff) fem!reader they are in collage- an ˎˊ˗ he's just a softie idk- reader is CLUELESS and I mean that🙂‍↕️ ⤷ …. riizebrary! + song to read 2!

✦downbad!sungchan who.. never let's you walk alone- not at night, not at the ass crack of dawn ur safety is the most important thing to him he's not afraid of defending you at anytime.

✦downbad!sungchan who.. notices the way your eyes pause on little trinkets at the mall, its always the stuff you say "I really like it but i'd never buy it myself :(" to.. weeks later he shows up with them and for some reason it makes your heart flutter that your best friend even remembered.

✦downbad!sungchan who.. lets you do his make up, nails and put stickers all over him without even having to ask twice because what other way would he want to spend his weekend?

✦downbad!sungchan who.. remembers your order at ALL places so when they get it wrong and your too scared to tell them he doesn't hesitate saying something along the lines of "she doesn't like foam on hers- oh and can you make it strawberry instead of vanilla? thanks."

✦downbad!sungchan who.. has multiple playlist based off you- one with your initials, one with an emoji that reminds him of you, and one with a picture of the two of you. The best part is when you ask him about it he just goes "huh really? i mean i guess i wasn't paying attention to what i was putting.." and then laughs it off (spoiler alert: of course he knew he just got shy.)

✦downbad!sungchan who.. lowkey crashes out when you respond extremely dry- (in your defense you've never been a good texter..) he shoves his face in his pillow and texts his friends "she doesn't want me i wanna die"

✦downbad!sungchan who.. writes your name in the corners of his notebook with little scribbles and hearts like he's in some 2000's disney channel romcom movie and when you steal his notebook to copy his notes your face get's surprisingly hot and you pout thinking he's playing some mean joke on you.

✦downbad!sungchan who.. buys you flowers cuz "pretty girls deserve pretty flowers" and you reply with "I'm so lucky to have a best friend like you" (wishing he meant it in a romantic way- well.. you'll catch on soon enough.. i hope)

✦downbad!sungchan who.. can't take it anymore.. he doesn't understand how you can't tell that he's like... crazily obsessed with you. so he makes a plan.. plan: confess to yn starts now! and as he's randomly sneaking off and canceling plans to make the perfect place to ask you out your thinking he's found someone and it'll never go anywhere..

✦downbad!sungchan who.. plans a beautiful picnic in the spot you met, (which caught you off guard because- what abt that new person he was seeing?! is this not too romantic??) than starts jumbling up his words because of how nervous he is. But he finally spits it out all the things he's been wanting to say and all the times he wished you weren't just friends.

✦downbad!sungchan who.. covers his face after word vomiting all over you- bracing himself for rejection but you... don't? you grab his hands and smile as wide as possible before softly saying "I never knew you liked me channie i don't wanna be friends either 'wanna be yours" and he swears he could die right then and there.

and finally ✦downbad!sungchan whos.. not just your friend anymore but your boyfriend . your boyfriend who treats you so good and you couldn't ask for anything more. (well maybe you could ask for a ring but that's a story for another time-)

ahhh!! I hope you guys had fun reading this as much as I had fun writing it 🥺 it’s my first written post and im a little nervy LMAOO anyways we love downbad!sungchan- but who next??

[tammyu-2]

Can we get the rottmnt boys (separate) being proposed to by S/o? (They say yes) S/o was acting distant for a while, working late, but was really getting them a ring to fit their huge fingers lol

Ooo this is sorta creative

ROTTMNT MARRIED TO THEIR S/O BUT THEIR S/O STARTS ACTING DISTANT

Swearing, no pronouns used, not proofread, flufffff

Let's get into it yar

LEO

Leo is a very over dramatic jump to conclusions type bf so the mere SECOND your distant for 12 hours he will think you hate him.

Now let's go back a bit. Back when you and Leo first started dating you were going through a rough patch and Leo always knew how to cheer you up in your darkest days. He always gave you the attention you though you didn't deserve and he lifted your spirit as a person. You felt forever indebted to him the way he treats you like his princess. And you've loved him ever since.

With Leo your life got fixed and it felt way more better and freeing (minus the acasional kidnapping from a villian but that's like every 2 weeks now). You has more energy and you genuinely felt happier with Leo as your boyfriend. Therefore you decided after a year or more you wanted to officially tie the note. With Leo.

Never thought I'd see that day coming

But you were nervous. I mean Leo is the type to not even be bound to labels and what if he feels like marriage isn't meant for him?? I mean it's a big step of commitment and no offense on him but the only thing he ever committed on in like (or than your relationship) was the tela Novela he has been watching since he was a baby.

But you pushed aside your doubts and decided to go for it. However due to him being a turtle mutant obviously it would be hard to find a ring that will fit or a jewelry shop that won't question. So you started skipping you hangouts with him on the account of your searching far and wide.

Leo was DISTRAUGHT! I mean the love of his life, his soul, his trust, his sun and his vida had betrayed him by canceling on him MORE THAN ONCE! I mean just say you hate him.

So one day, when you had finally gotten the ring but decided to wait till you had a plan on how you were gonna ask him, he decided he would confront you.

So you when to visit him and his brothers and went into his room only to be greeted by a pointed finger.

"YOU!"

"...me?"

"Do you hate me or something!?"

"Leon what the hell are you talking about."

"Your cheating on me! Who is it huh!? HUH!?"

"No??"

"Oh you must of fallen out of love with me!?-"

"Babe get to the point please."

"You have been neglecting me. Running off to go do whatever and blowing me off!! And not to mention you have been typing non stop on your laptop when I'm over for your stupid 'research project' WELL I DONT BUY IT WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!?"

"Leo..oh my dear Leon I can't tell you."

"Then I don't know why are we doing this."

"...are you crying? Oh my gosh babe no it's okay-"

"YOU DONT CARE ABOUT MEE"

I could continue but let's be honest it will go on for half an hour so let's just skip this hit because Leo has always been suck a drama queen.

"Okay can you step back a bit"

"What will that do-"

"JUST. do it please."

He steps back as you take a breath before kneeling down on one knee. Leo is utterly confused by now. Then you pull out a beautiful ring and suddenly he is dreaming cause there is no way your doing this right?

"Leon you have brought sunshine to my darkest days and you've stayed when I felt my world had left me. You sat by my side and made sure that even when I thought it was impossible you made me feel joy. There is no better person that I would love asking this to. Leonardo Hamato will you marry me?"

"Are you actually doing this is this actually happening!?"

"It's very real babe."

"Oh my gosh fuck yes!! I'd love to marry you!!!!"

After a very very tight hug and a tender kiss you two laugh at how stupid Leo had been. He couldn't believe that you actually asked him to marry you before he could mostly. But in the end he was just glad you hadn't actually cheated on him.

DONNIE

This is Dontron we are talking about HOW can you possibly keep a secret from him at all. He can hack into anything including your search history or track your phone to see where you go if it's really really important. HOW could you possibly pull this off? Easy. Ask a friend in a sound proof room with no electronics in it.

So you had done just that. Your friend being the kind and generous soul they were decided to help you. So every So often they would come back to you will research they had gathered on rings and sizes and stuff. And you almost got busted one time by him.

"Why were you measuring me in the middle of the night during out sleep over last Tuesday? Specially at 3:45."

"I had a hubba Bubba gum string and wanted to see how many I can wrap around you to make you a giant bubble gum mummy."

"You know you could have just asked me to calculate that instead of just doing it at 3am?"

"Whats the fun in that?"

Not only did you lie out your ass but you made it damn good realistic ish. And he believed it. Mostly because he was half playing a game on his phone but you still managed to get past the Donnie lie detectors.

But ofcourse since he is a mutant with strange hands it was getting harder and harder to find a ring for him. So you had to meet up with your friend more than preferred. And enough that Donnie notices.

First thing he does? Detective research. He searches at where you go to and finds out You've been going your friends house alot more than normal. Especially since you two only ever talk in your friends sound proof studio room. So he can't hear shit because his sound proof breaker had been borrowed and broken by Leo the other week so he was left up to his genius imagination.

So once you got the ring you visited him very veery happy because you wanted to get the lies out of the way immediately knowing Donnie would find out in a matter of time.

"Heyyy Dontron."

"Greetings my not so lovely s/o"

"What do you mean 'not-so-lovely'"

"You don't think I know your hiding something from me?"

Oh your fucked. Your screwed.

"Okay Donnie before you gon on your normal tangent I have something for you that will explain everything!"

"SIGH. Go on.."

You cleared your through and got down and one knee and pushed forward the ring you had bought for him.

"I know your not one for big boring speeches and I also know you like to cut to the chase of things so I'm just gonna say it. Donetello Hamato will you Marry me?"

"Okay."

"YIPPEEEE"

RAPH

You see raph is clueless when it comes to things so hiding a secret proposal from him was pretty easy. You know what wasn't easy? Finding a fitting ring for his big mutated turtle finger. It was HARD. Anything that was close to the side was sold out for inappropriate use. And the rest were WAY out of your price range so you were running a bit low on chance.

So you decided on one however you had no money for it so he took the initiative to bust your ass till you finally got enough for it. You worked day in and day out, taking longer shifts, you did some side gigs and did weekend jobs. You were working and working on the clock that you accidentally forgot your darling boyfriend Raph.

He had been noticing you had been not really cold but more exhausted and closed off. You seem to be tired and you barely ever have time for him which hurts alot if he's honest. Your always busy even in the late hours for work but he knows for a fact that you never work that late. So he began to get paranoid. Especially since he wanted to surprise you with something special he knew you would have liked.

So after weeks of miscommunication and work you finally had enough and more for the ring for Raph. So you decided to treat him to a rooftop picnic as an apology. He accepted it ofcourse and you two just sat on a random apartment building just star gazing and eating pizza. That's when you released his arm from your shoulder and stepped back making him look at you in confusion.

You step back and get on one knee bringing his ring from behind your back.

"Raph I have a very imp-"

"WAIT! Before you do there something you should know."

He shyly pulls out a gorgeous ring for you. Oh my god he was going to propose to you aswell.

"Oh raph...you shouldn't have."

"Uh Raph has been planing this for a while but everytime Raph gets a bit nervous."

"I'm sure you have nothing to worry about now because I guess we both accept. So Raph will you marry me?"

"Only if you would marry me"

"I do"

"I do too"

MIKEY

This poor baby boy is easy to hid things from. Like you could hid a rubber duck from him just by putting it on his head and he wouldn't know a thing. So when you decide to marry him because he had always been there for you. He was the reason you woke up every morning a trudged through the stinky sewer. It was all just to see him face lighten up with joy whenever he spotted you.

So you immediately thought of marrying him after 2 years of bliss. And so due to him kor being a human it took you quite a while. But due to his cluelessness you don't really try that hard to hide it. You just research when your in your house.

However it took you longer than you liked to find not only the perfect size but also the perfect design for your artist boyfriend. So you searched far and wider you took trains after trains to travel to different jewelry stores to find the perfect ring for Mikey because he deserves a proper ring.

However against your better judgement you had no choice but to put your focus on the ring rather than your Mikey. And although he might not be that good at catching onto things he would notice your not as close with him as you were. And it just made him sad that he thought his favorite person hated him.

So one day as you two finally get some alone time as he is painting a wall you decided now is the perfect chance to do it cause you hated lying to Mikey even if it was easy to get away with.

So as he had his back turned, you had gotten on one knee and held his ring out.

"You think that dot of red- OH MY GOSH!!"

"Michelangelo Hamato will you-"

"YES YES YES YES A MILLIONS TIMES YES!!!!"

"I didn't even-"

You were engulfed in a suffocating hug but honestly you didn't care as you hugged back your now fiancé.

Hope that was good and I realise know I accidentally skipped a req whoospie sorry diff req I'll do it eventually.

But I hope you enjoyed and don't be shy to request something from me and my diff fandoms. Just know that I will get to them when I can.

Stay healthy and stay safe!!!!

~Tammy<3

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16

cw: modern au, smut mndi, chronic pain mention, I always feel like my confessions are awk so sorry if you think this one is too

note for minors: a lot of this chapter is smut, but you can read up until the red line without worrying about it. There's no summary this time because it really is just smut for smut's sake and all the character development happens before it starts, so you won't need it for the plot. There is one vague mention of boners before the red line (sorry it's just for a laugh), but that's it

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 3.2k words

You catch on quickly to what’s happened between Sirius and Remus. What you don’t understand is why they’ve interrupted it to come talk to you. And how you could be wrong twice—do they cancel out if you were truly right the first time? 

Clearly, the chemistry you’d felt between Remus and Sirius wasn’t imagined. You’d convinced yourself you must’ve gotten your wires crossed—otherwise why would Remus have kissed you?—but evidently they’ve come to some sort of agreement. Are they here to ask for your permission? Intra-team fornicating: approved. 

You’re not sure if you wish they’d waited until they were less hard to pop by. 

“Um.” You keep your eyes very intentionally on the boys’ faces. “What’s up?” 

Sirius looks almost nervous, skittish even, but Remus’ hand wraps around his to pull him closer to your doorway. Your heart does something funny in your chest. 

“Could we talk?” Sirius asks. 

“Er…yeah. Of course.” You step aside, letting them into your small room. Remus sits politely on the edge of your bed, giving you deja vu from the night before, while Sirius makes himself comfortable further back. He leans his side into your pillow where it’s propped up on the wall. 

“We were talking,” starts Remus, “and I told Sirius about what happened between us.” 

Your next breath seems to come slower. Unwillingly, your gaze flits to Sirius, but he looks impassive, only like he might be scrutinizing you in turn. You look back at Remus. “You did?” 

“I did,” he says gently. “But it wasn’t—” 

“Babe,” Sirius interrupts, “don’t look so freaked. What’s the matter? And why are you still standing there?” 

You realize you’re hugging yourself around your middle, standing awkwardly in front of the bed. “I’m not sure it’s meant to hold three people,” you say weakly. 

Sirius snorts, whatever nervousness he’d arrived with vanishing. Sirius has always been good this way; he can only ever panic when no one else is, but the second you’re panicking too he’s all ease. 

“Don’t be silly.” He pats the space between himself and Remus. It’s as ample as the bed allows, which isn’t saying much. “It’ll be fine. Anyway, it’s your bed.” 

You can’t think of a good reason to argue. Something in you calms as you settle in between them, Sirius’ hip touching yours and the warmth of Remus’ body on your other side. It’s familiar, safe. 

“Are you upset?” you ask Sirius. 

His brows pinch. “Why would I be?” 

“Because…” You cringe. “Aren’t you two…?”

“There’s been a lot of confusion, I think,” Remus says kindly. “But when we were talking, we both sort of came to the realization that we fancy each other…and you.” 

There’s a dense pause. 

“And me?” you echo. 

Remus’ lips tilt slightly. “Yes.” 

“As in…” You rub your eyes, dumbfounded. “Sorry, I did just wake up.” 

Sirius laughs. Remus too, reaching over to rub your knee like he can’t help himself. 

“For the record, I didn’t plan any of this,” says Sirius, “but if I had, I’d have done it exactly this way. It’s very gratifying to finally disturb your sleep schedules the way you pricks have been doing to me all these weeks.” 

“Oi,” Remus chides teasingly, reaching over you to push at Sirius’ thigh. You marvel at this new easiness between them, now given even newer context. “Anyway, we thought we’d come see if you might be interested.” 

“In…you.” You rub your lips together, looking between them and noticing Sirius’ gaze has fallen to your mouth. Unless you’re terribly mistaken and you’ve got it all wrong, this means he fancies you as well. Your partner, your best friend. 

The idea isn’t as upsetting as it ought to be. 

Do you fancy him too? You’ve never thought about Sirius in that way. You love him, of course, but you’ve never taken the time to parse out if it might be a different sort of love than the kind between friends. And as for the rest—well, who wouldn’t be attracted to Sirius? You’re only human. 

“In both of us, yes,” Remus confirms patiently. 

“Is that something you’d be into?” Sirius asks. 

Your answer leaves you on a breath, thoughtless but true. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius grins. 

You nod. You’re suddenly fixated by the way his cupid’s bow flattens out when he smiles like that. It’s something you’ve noticed a thousand times before, but now…

“Yeah,” you say again. “Um…what do we do?” 

Remus chuckles. “I don’t really know. I’ve not been with two people before.” 

“Believe it or not, this is a first for me as well,” Sirius says lightly. 

“Right,” you laugh. It breaks up some of the apprehension in your chest. 

“If you want to,” Remus’ voice softens, “I suppose you could start by kissing him.” 

You look at him, then at Sirius. For the first time, something like insecurity flashes across his face. 

“You don’t have to,” he says quietly. No longer the brazen flirt, but the kind, considerate boy you know. “It’s okay.” 

“I know,” you reply. 

It’s like he’s afraid to touch you until you get to him. You steady yourself with a hand on his jaw, your other pressing into the mattress as you lean towards where he’s reclined against your pillow and bring your lips to his. 

You know all the ways that Sirius moves, and even this new, completely uncharted part of him is consistent. Sirius’ kisses start out slow, probing, feeling out what you like and what he can do, but then he gives himself over to it. His hands find first your hips, urging you closer to him before one slides to the small of your back. Greedy fingers curl in the fabric of your pajama top. 

You make a small, accidental sound in the back of your throat when his teeth tease your bottom lip, and Sirius pulls away. You’re both breathing hard. 

Sirius stares at you for a weighted moment before his eyes drift behind you and he huffs out a laugh. “Enjoyed that, did you?” 

You look over your shoulder, and Remus is watching you both with a low flame burning in his gaze. He flushes a tad at the question but his expression doesn’t change. He leans forward, kissing you, tasting Sirius on your lips. 

───────────────────────────────────────────

The three of you don’t need to speak much to communicate. Remus pulls you back into him, his length hardening against your ass, and Sirius follows. He kisses Remus over your shoulder with a relieved sort of sigh. All the while, his hands are roving your thighs, pushing up your pajama shorts until they crease and pinch at your crotch. 

You exhale and tilt your head to the side when Remus drops his lips to your neck. “We have a competition tomorrow,” you remind them both. “We ought to be resting up.” 

You feel Sirius’ grin as he brings his mouth to yours again. “Yup.” He nips your bottom lip. “I’m aware this is a bad idea.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t condone it,” Remus agrees, one hand covering your ribs while the other sneaks down to tease the waist of your pajama shorts.Your poor shorts are being attacked from both sides. “How far do you want to go?” 

Sirius pulls his lips from yours to watch you think. They still tingle, and you rub them together unconsciously. His eyes darken. 

“You drive me mad when you do that,” he says. 

“Do what?” 

Sirius’ mouth kicks up at the corner. He brings his thumb to your lower lip, pressing down on it gently. His own lips are swollen and gleaming prettily with spit, eyes nearly all pupil. Remus’ hand strokes lazily at your side. 

“I want to go as far as you guys want to,” you say without breaking Sirius’ gaze. 

His grin widens, and he looks at Remus, shrugging. “We could just go until somebody says stop.” 

“Alright,” says Remus. One of his hands leaves you, finger hooking in the waist of Sirius’ trousers. “Can we take these off, then?” 

Sirius isn’t shy, but you didn’t think he would be. He sits up on his knees and pulls them down, letting Remus help them over his ankles before they’re discarded in a heap on the floor. Remus gets rid of his too, and then you’re staring at the outlines of both boys through the far thinner material of their underwear. 

Remus ghosts a touch over Sirius’ cock, making the other boy’s expression pinch with want, before pulling down the waistband. Lithe, graceful muscles and hip bones curving inwards. Sirius curses as Remus’ long fingers wrap around him. 

Remus pumps slowly, his own arousal an insistent heat at your hip. You find your attention torn between the feeling of his body against your backside and the sultry droop of Sirius’ eyelids as he watches Remus work his cock. 

“Doesn’t he look pretty?” Remus murmurs. 

It takes you a second to realize he’s speaking to you. “Yeah.” Your mouth feels dry. You swallow, and watch as Sirius’ eyes flit up to the motion. “He always does.” 

Remus hums in agreement, pressing a light kiss to an exposed bit of skin beside the neckline of your top. “Do you want to try, lovely?” 

You turn your head to look at him. Remus’ eyes are glued to Sirius. “What about you?” 

A chuckle, and another soft kiss to your shoulder. “I’ll be alright.” 

Remus waits until your hand is around Sirius’ shaft, pumping a couple times against his own fist, before letting go. You choose a slightly less languid pace than Remus had. Sirius twitches in your grasp, taking your face in his hands and setting his lips to yours with a muffled groan. 

Behind you, Remus moves closer until his length is pressed against your ass. One of his hands steadies you by the hip while the other dips below the waistband of your shorts, palming you through your underwear. You shift, and he hisses when you move against him. 

You turn your head on instinct, Sirius’ lips smudging across your cheek. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright.” Remus’ voice is breathy, amused. “You just surprised me.” 

“What’d she do?” Sirius is never one to be left out of the loop. 

“Just backed into me.” 

“Oh. Gorgeous,” he smiles, turning you by the chin to capture your lips again, “who wouldn’t want that?” 

Their praise soon has you devolving into a thoughtless, sensory creature. Sirius’ hands caress your face and neck and Remus’ fingers brush your panties aside to toy with your cunt. Every movement of your hips makes him push more insistently against you. Your shirt comes off, Remus dotting your shoulders with sweet kisses. Your grip tightens on Sirius’ cock, and a low, needy sound tears out of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.” 

Your heart flutters at the endearment, but you don’t let your movements stall. Soon he’s pushing his hips into your hand, kisses turning messy and desperate, your own sounds harder to suppress as Remus bullies your clit with two fingers. You’re glad to know at least Sirius’ room is empty on your other side, because you’re beginning to wonder how thick these walls are. Remus pushes his length into the crease between your asscheeks through your shorts, Sirius’ cock beginning to twitch in your hand, and you press your lips together to contain a sound that promises to be both loud and mortifying—and the bed collapses. 

You fall backwards onto Remus as the cardboard on his end gives out, sending all three of you to the floor. Sirius’ teeth knock into yours and Remus catches you around the waist with both hands, keeping you from fully sitting on his hard cock. 

“Fuck.” Sirius brings a hand to his mouth. “What the fuck?” 

“Oh, shit.” You scramble away from Remus, onto the floor. Both boys look at you in alarm. You’re looking to where Remus’ leg is bent underneath him, not at a terribly cruel angle, but still— “Your hip. Is your hip okay?” 

“Oh.” Remus glances down as though he’s forgotten it himself, realization dawning over his features. 

“Fuck,” Sirius breaths, remembering as well. His hand moves toward Remus but lingers in the air, afraid of hurting him. 

“It’s…yeah, it’s okay,” says Remus. His eyes meet yours. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” 

Sirius’ brows pinch, but his hand makes it the rest of the way, rubbing tentatively over Remus’ hip joint. “Are you sure?” 

Remus shifts slowly, sitting up off his knees to move closer to Sirius. “I’m sure.” A little smile graces his lips. “You worried about me, Pads?” 

Sirius’ face splits in the sort of grin you can only ever surprise out of him. “Fuck off,” he laughs, pushing Remus away when he tries to kiss him. Remus catches Sirius’ hands, his own smile unfurling slowly, almost unwillingly. It makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“How sweet,” he hums, smug. 

You find yourself smiling at them both, your heart a balloon in your chest. 

“Okay.” You give the mattress a little tug. “In that case, could you guys get off?”

“What’re you doing?” Remus asks. Both he and Sirius move. 

“Having this on a slant doesn’t seem like a good idea, so I’m moving it.” 

It should be awkward, this break in the tension, but maybe it’s because you’re so used to working as a team that it isn’t. You all get the mattress situated on the floor, and then you’re dragging Remus’ underwear off, his hands moving kind and doting over the lengths of your arms. He inhales a small breath as Sirius takes his cock into his mouth. 

You watch Sirius’ lips move up and down his shaft, his eyes dark and growing shiny as he takes Remus as far as he can. You aren’t quite sure how to contribute, but when you rub the inside of Sirius’ thigh tentatively both boys moan. You take that to mean you’re on the right track. 

The muscles in Sirius’ back flex as he raises and lowers his head between Remus’ legs, mouth growing wet with spit and slick, and it’s not long before Remus’ fingers are curling in Sirius’ hair, curses spewing from between his lips in a Welsh accent you’ve not heard before. You can’t help but follow them back to the source, kissing Remus just before he cums down Sirius’ throat. He grips you by the arms with something like desperation. You’re happy to stay as the tension unwinds from his body, until his hands are moving down you, smoothing across the skin just above the waistband of your shorts. 

“Are you planning on keeping those on all night?” 

It’s Sirius who asks, his gaze sultry as he watches Remus’ finger skim just underneath the fabric covering your ass. He wipes the corner of his mouth with a thumb. 

“How’s this?” Remus suggests. He pulls you gently into his lap, situating you between his legs with your back against his chest. Again, you can feel the impression of him pressed against your backside. 

Your voice comes out weak. “This is good.” 

He chuckles, soothing a hand down your side while Sirius grins. Sirius’ fingers grasp the elastics of both your shorts and your underwear. “Okay?” he asks you. 

You nod. 

He takes his time working them down your legs and off your ankles, his eyes locking on your exposed cunt and the arousal Remus has coaxed out of you already. Remus, too, is watching over your shoulder. His fingers gravitate back to it, dragging slick up through your folds idly, almost worshipfully. He kisses behind your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re lovely,” says Sirius. 

Both boys’ gazes stay glued to your cunt as Sirius positions himself over you, pushing into your warmth. You bite down on a small sound. Remus tuts at you, his hand spreading reassuringly over your navel. 

“You can do better than that,” he chides. “Don’t think we don’t want to hear you.” 

Sirius holds your hips as he sinks into you. His fingers dent your flesh, and you marvel at the fact that you’ve wasted so much time not doing this. That you’ve ever been in a room with either Remus or Sirius and managed not to kiss them dizzy. You’re not sure you’ll be able to manage it again. 

Remus draws slow, tight circles around your clit with his finger. You arch your neck back onto his shoulder, and Sirius groans as you tighten on him. 

“God—you’re so perfect,” he says hoarsely. “You feel so good.” 

Your reply gets lost on a lewd sound as he drags his cock along your walls. Remus kisses you rewardingly in the soft skin underneath your ear. “There you are,” he says. “Good girl.” 

Warmth unfurls through your gut. 

Sirius grins whatever reaction must show up on your face, his hands migrating to your ass as he thrusts into you. As he gets rougher, so do Remus’ ministrations to your clit, his slow circles turning quick and jagged. You feel yourself tighten on Sirius in little flutters that have him gripping you tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises. 

“Fuck, like that, yeah. Just like that, baby.” 

Your lips part at the pet name and Sirius’ eyes flick up to yours like he’s surprised too, like he’s let slip something he didn’t mean to. But you say, “come here,” and he goes, leaning over you to let you take his face in your hands and kiss him until you can’t breathe. 

Remus feels your high approaching before you do. His free hand smooths over the inside of your twitching thigh. 

“Are you close?” he asks you. 

Sirius parts his lips from yours, looking down to see the confirmation on your face. You give it.

“Good,” he says, picking up his pace, “good, sweetheart, that’s it. Cum for me, yeah? I’ve got you.” 

You nearly bite your lip in half when you do, Remus tsking amusedly and kissing your neck while the tightening of your cunt threatens to send Sirius over the edge as well. He starts to pull out of you, but you grab his hand. 

“It’s okay,” you manage. “In me.” 

“Really?” he asks in a strangled voice. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I wanna feel it.” 

That’s all it takes. Sirius’ expression pinches like you’ve said something cruel as he thrusts into you one last time, a shock that reverberates through you as he warms you from the inside out. He’s rigid for a few seconds before tipping forward, his head to your shoulder and to Remus' chest, which you’ve slipped down without noticing. His breath fans softly over your skin. 

Remus rubs your thigh comfortingly and with his other hand pets down Sirius’ hair, cupping his flushed cheek. “Alright, love?” he asks. 

Sirius’ blush seems to worsen. “Yeah. You?” 

“More than.” Remus kisses his head. 

It’s only after a few seconds of silence that you realize Remus’ question was posed to the both of you. 

“That was…” you shake your head, at a loss “...fantastic.” 

“Yeah?” Sirius nudges his nose into your skin. “I thought so.” 

Remus’ chuckle rumbles through all three of you. “Cocky,” he says fondly. 

“And decent enough with it, by all reports.” 

It starts up a round of sweet, half teasing kisses Sirius pretends to want to escape despite making no real efforts to do so. You give and receive plenty of your own, until not just your lips and shoulders but many other parts of you are wet with spit and slick. You fall asleep all three on a twin mattress on the floor, your head on Remus’ chest and Sirius’ arms wound around your middle. It might be the best sleep you’ve ever had.

[jyoongim]

Please the lil ex-hubby fic got my heart melting I'm such a whore for jealous Al 😭

May we please have more jealous!Alastor. Maybe he didn't even know he liked reader THAT way until some sinner genuinely tries to court her and then he's just like "NOWP. Mine now."

This been sitting in my inbox for weeks!!!! I finally got around to it!

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

Alastor had always found you to be good company. He enjoyed having someone who could appreciate proper entertainment. He enjoyed the chats you two had and even let you join him when he went on outings. 

He considered you a friend.

So why is his eye twitching as you smiled, clutching a bouquet of flowers from the sinner who had asked you out? 

“Oh they are beautiful!” You beamed, pulling the sinner into a hug.

Alastor let out a soft growl, before materializing behind you, flashing the nervous man a sharp smile “Dearest who is this” he asked as his red eyes narrowed at the demon.

”My date for tonight silly. I told you I was going out for a night on the town” you giggled happily as you ushered the man inside.

”why don’t you two chat while i finish getting ready hmm?” You smiled reassuring at the demon before leaving.

Alastor smiled lovingly at you and as soon as you were out of sight, he set his sights on the sinner who was trying to avoid eye contact.

The sinner cleared his throat “I t-thought she was lying when she said she was friends with the Radio Demon”

awww he was trying to make small talk

Alastor eyes narrowed, “oooh so you know WHO I am?  Good good then introductions are pointless.” He stood tall, claws gripping his cane. “This ugh date you call taking her out on? Canceled.” The sinner eyes widened “w-what? No…no way! I been planning this for weeks!” He frowned. 

Alastor let out a chuckle “maybe you didn’t hear me”. The lobby lights flickered and he transformed slightly, growing in height, antlers curved to the ceiling and eyes as bright radio dials.

The sinner shook in fear as the Overlord leaned down til they were face to face “You will NOT be going out on a date tonight because 1. That pretty creature upstairs is way too good for you and 2. She’s mine. Now…when she comes back down, you’re gonna apologize and say something came up and NEVER contact her again. Or I eat you and I am happy either way…your choice”

He dawned an air of innocence as he let out a fake laugh when he heard you were close enough.

”I’m ready! How do I look?” You beamed, twirling around to show off your outfit. Alastor whistled, grabbing your hand and turning you in a slow spin, grinning “You are stunning my dear.”

You turned towards your date and he looked a bit shaken.

“U-Um s-something came up suddenly and…and im gonna have to cancel.” Your bright smile faded as he rubbed his neck nervously. A pout formed on your lips, as you wrapped your arms around yourself “O-oh…I see”

He looked at you and went to take a step forward but that only caused you to step back and into the Radio Demon’s embrace, seeking comfort.

Alastor pulled you into his chest ‘protectively’, rubbing your back soothingly ”oh it’s alright my dear. Im sure the two of you can reschedule this little date.”

The sinner mumbled his apology and slipped out the door.

You were pouting. You thought that he genuinely liked you. He even planned a whole date to your favorite club! So why…

You felt Alastor lift your chin, your pouty face making him grin.

”Since you’re already dressed how bout we go out on this date?” He asked tilting his head. You blinked at him, a little shocked “Y-You wanna go on a date with me?”

He chuckled, giving you a squeeze as he snapped his fingers and both your clothings changed to a more elegant style.

He raised your hand to his lips, red eyes wrinkling at you “Oh darlin I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity of having a pretty dame on my arm” he laughed as he twirled you around, before looping your arms and waltzing out the door.

[xiletay]

Ghost

TW: Emotional neglect, feeling invisible, hurt feelings, relationship tension

read part 2 here

Summary: Your relationship with Billie felt safe, close and real. Now tension lingers like a shadow and the cracks are impossible to ignore.

You hum softly to yourself, quiet, just loud enough for your own ears, to fill the silence in your apartment. The sound wraps around you like a second skin, warm and comforting. Almost like protection.

The kitchen glows in soft, golden light, casting warmth even into the small dining area. The air is filled with the scent of various spices, fragrant and inviting. You stir the food in the pan then add a pinch more salt. Your stomach growls and it hits you, you’re actually starving.

You’ve been looking forward to this night for days. Finally a night with Billie. Just the two of you. It’s not like you haven’t spent any time together recently but it’s always felt interrupted, by her. By Emily, Billie’s new friend. You can’t remember exactly when or how it started but suddenly Emily was everywhere. Especially where she didn’t belong: right between you and Billie.

It doesn’t feel like a relationship between two people anymore. Emily claims Billie’s time, her attention, her presence. Every chance she gets. Just last week, you had plans, an actual date but Billie didn’t show. “Emily needs me,” she texted.

But you needed her too.

That hurt. Standing in the cold for over an hour, waiting. Still, you didn’t make a scene. From the beginning, you both agreed that space and outside friendships were important. And at first, you understood that Billie wanted to be there for her new friend. But lately, it felt different. Like Emily isn’t just in Billie’s life. she’s actively pulling her away from you.

You’re not possessive. Not the jealous type. But after meeting Emily, something inside you shifted. The way she looked at Billie. The way she talked to you or rather about you in front of Billie. Every joke had a bite, every comment felt like it was aimed to push you out. And Billie? She didn’t notice. Maybe she didn’t want to. Either way it stung.

You never told Billie how much it bothered you. That she let someone chip away at what you two had. But she felt it too, right? That something’s off. The silence between you lately has been louder than any fight.

You’ve started pulling away emotionally. The more Billie prioritizes Emily, the more you retreat. The insecurities have grown louder in your head. Questions you don’t want to ask yourself start creeping in: Is it me? Is something missing? Is Billie looking for something I can’t give her? Does Emily have something I don’t?

You and Billie were a solid team once. You didn’t need many words. You simply got each other. You thought you were safe together. But of course that was too good to last, wasn’t it?

Tonight was supposed to be different. A reset. A small act of love. you cooking her dinner. A quiet evening, just the two of you. She promised she’d be there. She even said she was looking forward to it. That gave you hope. A flicker of something to hold on to.

═══════✦═══════

Billie is ten minutes late. No big deal. Maybe traffic. Maybe she’s caught at a red light. You set the table quickly, light the candles you bought together months ago, the ones you never found the right moment to use. But this felt right. Finally.

You check your phone, wanting to see what time it is. Instead, you see her message.

“hey love, i am sorry i have to cancel. Emily just dropped by. we do it another day okay? i love you”

You just stare at it. Time freezes. Seconds or minutes, you can’t tell. Your hand tighten around your phone as your ears fill with a dull ringing. You take a few deep breaths, biting your lip to keep a bitter laugh from escaping.

Of course. Of course.

You shake your head slowly, still stunned. You really thought tonight would be different. You even dressed up. Something Billie would’ve liked, something she would’ve taken off later. But not tonight.

Emily really does know how to insert herself into every crack. And Billie just seems fine with it. Fine with neglecting the relationship. Fine with neglecting you.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, heavy with disappointment. Slowly, you type: “it’s fine. have fun.”

That’s all you can give her right now. What once felt full of love and hope is now replaced with emptiness.

And all you can think is: She promised she would be here. She promised.

═══════✦═══════

It’s later that week. You and Billie are getting ready to go to a small party together. Nothing fancy, nothing over the top. Just a couple of people trying to have a good time and for a moment forget about the stress of life. Some of them just drink to drown out their problems.

You’re standing in front of the mirror, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit with a quiet breath. A gentle, hopeful smile tugs at your lips. Tonight will be good. Tonight is yours and Billie’s.

Ever since she canceled your plans last time, again, there’s been tension. At least from your side. You’re trying not to hold a grudge. Trying to play it off as if everything’s fine. But the mask is cracking and you don’t know how long you can keep pretending.

Billie appears behind you in the mirror, coming closer until her arms wrap around your waist from behind. She pulls you against her chest, resting her chin on your shoulder. “You look really gorgeous. My pretty, pretty girl,” Billie murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your neck. You sigh quietly, melting into her, into this moment. This feels like love.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you tease with a soft smile, eyes closed. She hums, her lips brushing your skin again. “Maybe we should skip the party and go straight to the fun part.” She starts nibbling at your neck, playful, maybe leaving a mark. Her mark.

You laugh softly, tempted. “That sounds amazing, but… we should go, baby.” You turn in her arms, wrapping yours around her neck and playing with the soft baby hairs there. Her hands remain firm on your waist. “But first, a few more kisses won’t hurt anyone,” you whisper, closing the gap between you both.

═══════✦═══════

The atmosphere is buzzing. Music is loud, vibrating in your chest. Sweaty bodies are either dancing or navigating toward their next drink. The night hums with energy and maybe something unexpected. You and Billie sit on a couch a little off to the side, not isolated but enough to feel like it’s your corner of the chaos. She’s on your left, your leg draped over hers while her hand rests gently on your thigh. Grounding. Familiar. In her other hand, she’s holding a drink. Not many familiar faces around but next to Billie, you feel okay. You’re mid-conversation when a loud, overly familiar laugh cuts through the noise. You glance up. And there she is. Emily. Heading straight toward Billie.

Why is she here?

You lean in to Billie’s ear, lowering your voice: “What is she doing here?” Billie glances at you, then gently squeezes your thigh. “Oh, I invited her, babe.” She says it casually, like it’s no big deal. Like it doesn’t matter.

Emily wedges herself into the space next to Billie without hesitation.

“Oh my god, hii Bils,” she says, already beaming. “Did you miss me?”

Bils?

Missed you?

Seriously?

You don’t even register Billie’s response. You’re too far inside your own head now. Her hand on your thigh now feels like it burns, not comforts. Quietly, you slip your leg away from hers. Billie notices and interrupts whatever Emily was saying. “You okay?” she asks softly. You nod. “Yeah… I’m fine.” A big, fat lie. But you try to sell it. And apparently, Emily takes that as her cue.

“Hi Y/N,” she says with a too-sweet smile. “So nice to see you again.”

You study her. Perfectly styled hair, matching outfit, too practiced smile. Her eyes scan you up and down, waiting for your reply like she’s sizing you up.

“Yeah. Same.” The air feels thick. You can feel the tension but no one else seems to notice. Before you can say anything more, she cuts in.

“You guys have been together for a long time, right?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “That’s wild. I mean, when Billie’s with me, she never even mentions you. Like, at all.”

She casually throws an arm around Billie’s shoulders, eyes full of fake innocence. “Guess Billie kinda forgets about you when I’m around, right, Bils?”

It takes a second for the words to land. And when they do, it feels like the air’s been sucked out of your lungs. Nobody says anything for a heartbeat. Maybe two.

Then you hear it.

Billie laughs.

Not loudly, just a soft, tired sound. But loud enough.

Loud enough to split something inside you. You sit there frozen, your throat tight, your chest heavy. Tears sting behind your eyes but you don’t let them fall. You won’t give Emily that satisfaction. And you won’t break, not here, not in front of everyone.

Slowly your head turns toward Billie, almost like your body can’t believe this is happening. Your mouth is slightly open, shoulders tight.

Billie finally says, still laughing, “Emily, don’t flatter yourself. Y/N’s always on my mind.”

It should comfort you. But does it really undo what just happened? Does it erase all the canceled plans? The way her attention shifts when you’re not loud enough, not visible enough?

You stay quiet for the rest of the night. Numb. A ghost version of yourself. You don’t remember how you got home, only that now you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. Billie’s already in it, waiting for you to crawl under the blanket.

Your back is turned to her. You’re holding yourself up on your hands, staring at nothing. You exhale once, long and tired, before finally lying down.

The second you do, Billie pulls you close. You’re half on top of her now. She kisses the top of your head a few times before whispering, “I need a real kiss, baby, so I can sleep well and dream of you.” A small, tired smile escapes you, in spite of everything.

You turn your head and press your lips to hers. Slow, gentle. Real.

You pull back a little, barely whispering, “I love you.” She says it back, effortlessly.

You know she means it, she isn’t hurting you on purpose.

And you mean it too. You really do.

You just don’t know how much longer you can be a ghost in your own relationship.

═══════✦═══════

Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this little fic. Feel free to share your thoughts if you’d like. Sending you guys sooo many hugs and love 🤍🌙

[itsrlymine]

hi lol i just wanted to share my success stories to motivate others 🩷

so for starters two years ago i was in college and absolutely MISERABLE. I was in my all time low episode. You can imagine-

Then during christmas break I snapped. I was like, enough is enough. I took a gap year, found a job I wanted to do. Problem was that for this job they are generally looking for confident extroverted people. I was neither of those things.

But all through that time I was like “This is a new chapter. It doesn’t matter how I was before. Nobody knows it here.” I got hired.

This once success changed my whole mindset. I truly started believing that I have the power to change my life for the first time. That not everything is written ahead and I can’t change it.

Next examples:

I really wanted to go to this big ass concert in my country in summer. I know people who sometimes can get me tickets for free but they said they don’t know this organizator so it’s not possible. Did that stop me? Hell no-

In the next month before the concert anytime I thought about it, I considered it done. I was telling people I’m going already. A week before I got a message I got two VIP tickets ready.

Then my job contract ended in october. The managment told us they’d take us back for summer. But that’d be around may the soonest. Again, I was already telling people I’m going back as soon as I ended there. In my mind there was literally no other way my life could even go.

A week into november I got a call I’m starting in january, which was literally a dream for me. I had money aside and I also had a ton of plans in winter with my friends so I had the time to do them all. For the next two months I was partying and going to concers.

Now back in job I learned we are going for layover trips. Basically they send you somewhere for a week or so. Nice sunny country with a pretty paid for hotel. But once again- the older colleagues were insistent that as someone new I won’t get there at all, that I have no chance.

Oh boy- in one month I was in 3 destinations. Tanning, swimming, shopping. One of those (the longest one) I actually got to spend with probably my favorite homegirl at work.

At this point I didn’t even try to manifest it, I was just like “yeah, bet!” to all the people who told me I’ll be sitting at home on my ass.

The last example is just me having plans that I refuse to cancel (another concert actually 🤭) and another of those working abroad things. First of all, this trip is for 2 weeks with ROYAL payment, so ofc I did not want to give it up. But it looked like it’s gonna be at the time of the concert.

Before our new schedule came out, I was just thinking how that’s just NOT happening. Like ain’t no way. I’ll be going to that destination and absolutely will be home at the time of the concert. It will somehow work out.

It did.

“It will somehow work out.”

This sentence basically sums up my whole mindset. I don’t overthink it. “How is it gonna work?” I just let the universe figure it out for me. I just know it will be in my favor.

I tried manifesting before when I was at school. But my problem was that I always worried HOW it’s gonna work out. I was overthinking, trying to desperately do the mental gymnastics of how those unreal things will happen.

The moment I stopped this, simply shrugged and went about my day, those things started to happen.

Hope this motivates yall and helps you stop obsessing if you do. 🩷

"anytime I thought about it, I considered it done." ARE YALL LISTENING OR???? THAT'S HOW YOU GET ANY AND EVERYTHING OMG . I love this so much for you babes. You never have to sit down and worry about how it's gonna happen. You sit down and think about how it already worked out for you bc literally everything does. You better come back and keep updating us babes.

[f1angelz]

Hey there , saw your requests open soo

Carlos x fem reader

The reader is pretty closed off, calm or unemotional person, works in academia. Somehow her and Carlos are dating and it hasn't been that long. Carlos wants to know more of her and like form an emotional bond but the reader is pretty nonchalant. But he notices that she's much more reactive when they're having sex or getting yk. And he uses that to his advantage to get her to say I love you back (she loves him but never says that)

You can take your time. No worries (•‿•)

𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆? — carlos sainz x f!reader

summary: everyone’s shocked how y/n is carlos sainz’s girlfriend. her personality didn’t really show it— calm and nonchalant, never really the type to open up even towards carlos. will he be able to change that?

content warnings: smut (18+) mdni, cunnilingus, bathroom sex (but there’s no penetration so idk if that’s still considered), not proofread again 😭 please excuse errors you might encounter.

this fic contains super basic spanish words!

── .✦

“No, are you serious?”

“Miss Y/L/N? Dating THE Carlos Sainz?”

“I know, why hasn’t she told us? If I were her, I’d be bragging about it everyday.”

“Maybe that’s why she had someone substitute for her Friday class, she was at the race last week.”

Said the students who gossiped over their TA, Y/N.

Recently, a picture of Carlos and Y/N in the Ferrari garage was released all over social media. It went viral, the post reaching almost a million likes.

Y/N obviously wasn’t the type to post content of her boyfriend. She was rather reserved, her social medias were private and little to no posts— she didn’t even have a TikTok account.

Even at the start of their relationship, Y/N didn’t know Carlos was an F1 driver. She only found out when he invited her to a race.

The sound of Y/N’s heels clicking against the marble tiles echoed throughout the hallway, making her way towards the lecture hall. She pushed the laminated wood door open and the students immediately fell silent, watching her as she made her way towards the desk.

“Mr. Sanders won’t be able to make it today, so he won’t be able to deliver a lecture.” Y/N said while she brought out her laptop and placed it on the desk. After the students heard the news, they whispered a small ‘yes’.

“However, he has instructed me to create a quiz on last week’s lesson.”

The students groaned.

Y/N opened her laptop, “The quiz can now be accessed, you have 1 hour to answer. Goodluck.”

The students got to work and Y/N as well, answering several emails and creating lesson plans for the next semester.

Work never really seemed to end for her, she was always glued to her laptop— and when Carlos wanted to spend time with her, it would take a long persuading to do so.

1 hour quickly passed by and Y/N stood up, “Please submit your quizzes. Late submissions 2 minutes after will incur deductions. Once you have finished, you may leave the lecture hall.”

Some students who were already finished left as instructed while others were still fixing their things.

Just as Y/N was about to fix her things too, her phone vibrated and a notification appeared.

Carlos: Mi preciosa, what time do you get off work?

She opened her phone and replied.

Y/N: Now, actually. Why? My 11 to 3 pm class got cancelled.

Carlos: I was wondering if we could grab lunch? I’ll fetch you from work.

“Miss Y/L/N?” A voice interrupted, Y/N looked up from her phone and saw a group of students surrounding her.

“We’d like to ask what’s the passing score? One of them asked.

“Passing is 25.”

All of them let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss. See you next week!” They replied and slowly walked away “We hope to see you in the race next week.” One joked, causing their elbow to be nudged.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed upon hearing the statement, causing her to stand up. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, well you’re all over social media right now, Miss. We know you’re dating Carlos Sainz.”

“Yeah, why haven’t you said anything? It’s something to brag about.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, “Yes, I’m dating Carlos Sainz. Why does that matter? It isn’t my responsibility to announce my relationship status. Now, please leave the lecture hall.”

The students were stunned and they apologized. They left the hall, leaving her all alone.

Y/N huffed and grabbed her things, closed the lights and left the hall.

She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and messaged Carlos, telling him that she was already off work and already walking towards the exit.

Carlos was already parked outside of the University. Among all the other cars parked there, Y/N knew which one was her boyfriend’s car. She walked towards his car and knocked on the passenger’s door, Carlos opened it and greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N smiled back and sat in the passenger’s seat, closing the door.

“How was work, amor?” Carlos asked as he started leaving the parking lot.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“I guess?” He questioned.

“My students found out that we’re dating.” Y/N sighed and fixed her hair on the mirror.

“How’d they find out?”

“I don’t know, I told them off and I left the lecture hall immediately.”

Carlos glanced over to her, “Amor, what about it if they found out we’re dating? You’re smart, beautiful, and definitely more than what I deserve. What’s the worry?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged off Carlos’ question.

Their lunch ended on a good note and went home immediately after, at Y/N’s apartment.

Y/N tapped her keycard against the door lock, pushing it open. She took off her heels and placed it on the shoe rack behind the door, Carlos’ actions following hers. The cold beige colored marble tiles made contact with feet, her thin socks barely giving her any warmth.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Y/N announced, making her way towards the bedroom and Carlos hummed in response.

He always wondered why she wasn’t as open towards him. Sure, she’s shared some things about her past, and her life in general, but she never really shared anything regarding her emotions.

Although she’s somewhat affectionate, it’s still a shock to her how she really just couldn’t say the three words that meant the most— I love you.

The sound of metal clinking on the ceramic jewelry plate resonated throughout the bedroom, Y/N taking off her accessories before she showered.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” Carlos leaned against the bathroom’s doorway, watching Y/N as she unbuttoned her blue silk button down top. She looked towards his direction, flashing him a small smile.

As she was about to unbutton the last one, Carlos wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, closing the gap between them. His hands wandered, while he placed soft kisses on Y/N’s neck.

“Carlos..” Her words fell, lost in his kisses. “— what are you doing..” She let out a soft moan.

“Te gusta, Mi amor?” Carlos said in between kisses, slowing making them aggressive.

“Si…” Was all Y/N managed to let out.

It was like Carlos turned on a switch in her brain, he never saw her like this. Submissive, melting even at the slightest touch.

Out of desperation, Y/N guided his hand towards her right breast, pushing her bra. Carlos played with her nipple, tugging and pulling on it. Y/N looked at herself in the mirror in front of her, desperate and needy for her lover’s touch.

She finally removed her top, only leaving her in her bra and panties, her slacks gone even before Carlos entered.

“Hermosa.” Carlos said under his breath, looking at Y/N’s figure on the mirror. She turned around and faced him, pulling him in for a deep, passionate kiss. “May I take this off?” Carlos asked in between kisses and tugged on her bra strap, she hummed in response. With one swift movement, her bra fell loose, letting it drop on the floor.

Carlos pulled away and unbuttoned his linen polo, tossing it somewhere. Y/N couldn’t believe what was in front of her— it was her first time seeing Carlos topless. She placed a hand on his chest and he watched, her hand slowly going down towards his crotch.

Before she could unbuckle his belt, Carlos inched towards her, causing her to lean against the sink.

“Sit on the counter for me, yeah?” And she obliged, her feet hanging off the counter.

Y/N’s hands wandered along his chest and arms, desperate for his next move. Carlos brought his hand towards her left breast, kneading it as his mouth latched onto her right nipple. She felt herself getting wet, her core beginning to feel a familiar tingle.

Carlos pulled away for a moment, “Is this okay?” She nodded, her free hand making its way towards her core, ready to touch herself. But Carlos was quick to stop her, “Ah ah, no. Let me.”

“Por favor, Carlos.” Y/N begged, growing impatient.

Carlos laughed, “Since when were you so impatient, amor?” He took off her panties and tossed them aside, revealing her wet core.

Y/N spread her pussy lips apart, her clit exposed and covered with her wetness. Carlos went on his knees and placed kisses on her inner thigh, inching closer towards her pussy. Y/N grabbed his hair, desperately wanting to be touched.

He placed his thumb on the entrance of her pussy, spreading her wetness around. Y/N’s breath hitched, “Fuck, Carlos.” He licked her clit gently, his thumb still toying with her entrance.

“You love this, no?” Carlos taunted, his licks now turned into sucking which made her crazier.

“So— so much, f-fuck! More!” Y/N moaned out, her grip on Carlos’ dark brown locks tightening.

Carlos picked up the pace, her sounds of pleasure growing louder and louder each time his tongue grazed over her clit.

Y/N brought her hand towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple to stimulate herself.

Carlos couldn’t believe the sight before him. Her chest heaving up and down, breaths shaky from the work his tongue was doing on her pussy.

He felt that Y/N was cumming soon, her wetness growing even more. “Are you close, amor?” Y/N nodded like her life depended on it, “Si, amor— fuck! I’m so close!” She struggled to say, her orgasm nearing.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, please— please! I want to cum!”

“Tell me that you love me, and I’ll let you cum.” Carlos stopped sucking on her pussy and rubbed her clit with his thumb instead, in a painfully slow motion.

“W-what?” She breathed out, unsure of what he said.

“Tell me you love me.” Carlos stood up and pulled her closer, his middle and ring finger rubbing her clit as he picked up the pace.

Y/N jaw remained open, unable to comprehend what Carlos said.

“Cat got your tongue, amor?” He smirked and rubbed even faster, the sound of her wetness spreading around her skin.

“A-ah! I love you— fuck! I love you, C-carlos!” She screamed as her orgasm came over her, her legs tightened on his hips. Carlos groaned, giving her wet pussy a slap before slightly pulling away.

Y/N processed what happened, she actually said I love you.

How did that happen?

Still recovering from her orgasm, she was panting heavily. Carlos took a good look at the sight in front of him, satisfied with what he did.

“If it takes an orgasm for you to say those words,” Carlos panted, running his hand through his hair. “Then I’d give you an orgasm everyday.”

Y/N let out a laugh, “I never really said I love you because I thought it was too early.”

Or maybe because she wasn’t used to it.

“Amor, I’ve always wanted to hear those words come out of your mouth ever since we’ve started dating.” Carlos cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. “Por favor, mi amor. Please say I love you more often.”

“But that means I wouldn’t be able to get orgasms anymore.” She joked, Carlos laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum anytime you want.” He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, Carlos.”

“I love you too, mi preciosa.”

── .✦

a/n: this was a experience to write! i haven’t written smut in a while 😭

[maidragoste]

A part 2 to Worry? Maybe one where the reader and Frank take the boys on beach vacation after he is clean and sober form rehab and became an attending in the ED. The reader could also tell Frank she is pregnant with a baby girl…

Hi Anon, thank you so much for your request!. I'm so happy that someone is interested in Frank and this reader. I hope you like it, even if it's shorter than the first part.

The Pitt Masterlist

As I always say, please don't hesitate to like, comment, and reblog. The interactions always motivate me to keep writing 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have any ideas, questions or headcanons you want to share, my inbox is always open 🤗💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

I hope you have a good reading!

You were sitting under the umbrella, watching with a smile as Frank played with the boys, pretending to be a sea monster while they splashed water at him, trying to scare him away. Minutes earlier, you were also playing with them until you started feeling dizzy while picking up Luke, your youngest son, so you decided to take a break.

Your eyes met your husband's blue ones. You knew he was worried about you, so much so that he almost canceled the beach trip, but you insisted that you were feeling fine because you didn't want to miss this day. You had planned it after Frank had completed another month clean, besides the kids were too excited and you didn't want to miss the opportunity to go to the beach, with Frank's job who knows when you'd have time to do it again? So this morning, you did your best to calm your nausea and tiredness. Carrying baby number three is really tiring you out. You still haven't told your husband about your pregnancy so he thinks you're just going to contrast the same thing Tanner had a week ago when he got infected by one of his schoolmates.

Frank must have seen something on your face because it's not even a minute before he calls the boys seriously and speaks to them briefly. You assume he's telling them not to get too carried away and to stay where you two can see them, before starting to trot over to you. He sits down next to you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, hugging you. You can't help but smile when his hand rests on your belly. Maybe he subconsciously knows? Or does he know but is waiting for you to tell him yourself?

"I'm fine," you assure him, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

“Are you sure? Your face is lacking color, and you're still tired,” your husband insists, worried. “We can go back to the beach another time. Your health is more important to me. We can stop by the hospital for a quick checkup.”

You decided to nip your husband's concern in the bud. You didn't want him to start running through the worst-case scenarios. Today was supposed to be a fun, relaxing day.

“Frank,” you placed your hand over the one he had on your belly. “It's nothing serious, baby three is just making me tired.”

Your husband's eyes widened in surprise, and a moment later, a big smile appeared on his face before he launched into your kiss. You could feel in his kiss all the infinite love he had for you and the family you were forming. You felt happy.

"Fuck, I love you," Frank said, breaking away from your lips and resting his forehead against yours. "I love you. I'm so lucky to have you and the boys, and now you're going to make me a father again. Thank you for giving me everything. Thank you for choosing me." As he continued, both his eyes and yours glazed over with emotion.

"I'll always choose you," you gave him a quick kiss. "I love you."

"I love you more," he declared, caressing your belly. "I hope it's a girl this time," he admitted, imagining a mini you following him everywhere.

“I can already see you having tea parties with her,” you smiled at the image of a little girl with your husband’s blue eyes asking for a tea party.

“I can’t wait,” he kissed your forehead, and hearing the children’s laughter, his eyes returned to the sea. “Do you think they’ll accept the idea of ​​being older siblings?”

“Let’s hope so.”

[ddeokz]

talk slow ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ "ive been listening all night & ur words they sound so right!" - S.ES

trope . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ tutor!eunseok x smart!reader ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ fem!reader reader is lowkey playing dumb- fluff! (tooth rotting) suggestive? seoks a lil toxic?? BUT eunseoks a good tutor :) an .ᐟ.ᐟ first seok imagine?? drabble? IDK! I’m so happi ive been loving making these! enjoy <3 riizebrary + song to read 2!

tutor!eunseok who.. knows you don’t need tutoring but knows it doesn’t hurt to get extra help (he’s trying to make up excuses so he has a valid excuse to hang out with you)

tutor!eunseok who.. color codes all the notes for you, writes in perfect hand writing and leaves sticky notes with tips all over the pages for you then texts you to see what colors you like the most and abuses the fuck out of those markers each time you ask for notes.

tutor!eunseok who.. shifts in his seat each time you lean closer to him taping your finger on the page and softly whispering "i dont get it seok.. can you explain again?" with a little pout on your face- he knows that your lying but he doesn't care and explains it slower adding a "come on yn your so smart, guess im just gonna have to get it in your brain another way huh?”

tutor!eunseok who.. loans you his best pen for your test this week for "good luck" and when your done testing and try to give it back he just says "keep it i have like 100" (he doesn't but he just wants you to have something of his)

tutor!eunseok who.. watches you as you read out the problems, his eyes study your face with meaning- with intention and when you catch him he turns his head so you cant see the pink color that started to creep onto his cheeks.

tutor!eunseok who.. cant stand it when you cancel study sessions last minute to go out or make plans with your other friends he texts back with "you dont wanna pass or something?" coming off as cold but really he just wishes you'd ask him to do those things with him.

tutor!eunseok who.. gets as hyped as you when you show him you passed a test or an assignment (that you both knew you were gonna pass either way-) "we gotta go out for food, my treat smart girl" he says as he gives you a little spin

tutor!eunseok who.. doesn't budge when you complain about studying for too long "what if we just go get drinks for like an hour and come back?!" you'd whine but he just shakes his head and says "if your good and finish this section we'll do whatever you want smart girl" and you listen.. cuz who wouldn't?

tutor!eunseok who.. catches you dead asleep in the library so he walks up puts his jacket on your shoulders and sits across from you working on a project till you wake up "morning sleepy" he smiles and pats your head. you start to feel suspiciously safe around him

tutor!eunseok who.. asks you on a date in the form of a math problem which you had no problem figuring out- he laughs as you read out the meaning and says "what have i been tutoring you for this whole time girl? your smarter than me"

tutor!eunseok who.. facetimes you right before your tests blowing you a kiss and wishing you good luck and maybe promising that if you do well he'll have a special present for you right after what could it be?? now you gotta pass.

[ingravinoveritas]

A couple of quick thoughts about today's events (or "EVERY 2.0," as I'm seeing some folks call it):

Everyone is passionate about and excited for Good Omens 3. There have been little to no details over the last few months, even during the course of filming earlier this year. This production has been a precarious one, from nearly being cancelled to being brought back as a 90-minute movie instead of the previously planned full season. Emotions have been running high almost nonstop, to where the atmosphere is nearly perfect for someone--be it marketing, be it PR--to tap in to the vibe for their own purposes.

It has been almost exactly two years to the day since Every, the now infamous "leak" of Aziraphale and Crowley's kiss at the end of season 2. Given that, it also feels like far, far too much of a coincidence that another, similar "leak" would occur so close to that incident. In all likelihood, today's events were not an accident, but rather a planned test to take the "temperature" of the fandom, among other things.

Further supporting this theory is the fact that the images of the concept art were posted on the art website one week ago, yet somehow the fandom was suddenly made aware of them today, in such close proximity to the anniversary of "Every." The images are also still posted on the website, on the artist's portfolio, meaning that had this been an unintentional oversight, it seems likely that the photos would have already been taken down, instead of left up for an entire week.

There has also been a great deal of discussion about consequences for the artist, yet it seems shortsighted if not unfair to blame fans for the artist's job being put in potential jeopardy. This person chose to post the concept artwork publicly, where anyone could find it. Even now, hours after all of this has happened, the concept art is still not password protected, and so the explanation of "It was supposed to be password protected" does not seem to hold much water. Ultimately, however, it was this artist's responsibility to ensure their work was secured, and it is also their responsibility if they did not.

Much has also been made about the possibility of season 3 being cancelled as a result of this incident, and I would just urge folks to think logically about this instead of blindly believing everything that you read. It is especially imperative in moments like these--where marketing and money are the chief motivating factors and the people behind these efforts have no qualms about emotionally manipulating a fandom--to think for yourselves and come to your own conclusions. Other fans may rush in to tell you to do this or do that, or don't do this, don't do that...but "groupthink" and hivemind mentalities are more often harmful than helpful, both to you as an individual and to the fandom at large.

Finally, to say that today's incident could cause GO 3 to be cancelled sounds and feels like little more than scare tactics. The concept art we saw today does not necessarily definitively give away plot points of the season (unlike "Every," which absolutely did). Given that filming is already completed and the amount of money that Amazon would stand to lose by pulling the show, it feels increasingly like this line was put forward to provoke an emotional response in fans.

Yet as the old saying goes, any press is good press...and the only thing that will get people talking more than a "leak" is that leak being an "accident" to cause panic and get folks to take everything down. Which will then make those who did see it chatter endlessly about what happened while making those who didn't see it wonder about it even more.

So those are all of my thoughts on what happened. The drama around all of this is truly exhausting, but hopefully we can find a way to discuss all of this calmly and collectively move forward as we await the release of the third season.

[silencesscreams]

hiii, idk if ur still active but I love ur writing and I was wondering if u could maybe do a james smut with a Christmas theme! tyyy💓

Merry Christmas, I miss you

james potter x f!reader

summary: you and James have been broken up since Halloween. Until he calls you on Christmas Day after finding out that you both were spending the evening alone. (muggle+modern day au)

warnings: use of y/n, reader is shorter than James, swearing, smut (MDNI!), afab reader, nipple sucking, oral/fingering (f receiving), praise!!!, penetration, multiple orgasms(2), slight dom!james, reader has hair long enough to be stroked, kind of make-up sex tbh, unprotected + use of the pill, creampie, not proofread at all 😭

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! I immediately thought of this song, hope you like it <3

You hated spending Christmas alone.

When your family was getting plane tickets two months ago, you said you’d spend Christmas with James, who also cancelled his plans with his family, just for him to break up with you two weeks later.

There was no one you could spend the end of year holidays with, all of your friends were with their families or together.

James absolutely hated the silence in his apartment.

Sirius and Remus were spending the holiday together at cabin they found online and Peter had gone home to his family.

James hated having brought this upon himself.

Were you with somebody else out there? Were you meeting their family? Were they in your apartment?

It was killing him.

What he hated most of all was breaking up with you during a stupid fight which he didn’t even remember the reason why it happened. He just remembers being drunk and stupid.

So he called Sirius, because that was what he usually did when things went to shit, and also because Sirius was close to you and he would probably know what James had been asking himself for the past hour.

The phone rang about six times until he finally picked up.

“What do you want?”

“What do you think y/n is doing right now?” He heard Sirius groan.

“Why do you care about what she’s doing?” James didn’t answer. “She’s alone at her place, don’t call her.”

“You think I should call her?” He decided to ignore any advice that went against whatever he wanted.

“God, he’s so fucking confusing.” he heard Remus say.

“Moony, do you think I should call her?”

“James, you’re going to do whatever you want, aren’t you?”

“Always, but that’s not the point.”

“Do what your heart says and leave us alone pleeeeaseee!” Sirius said and hung up.

James dialed your number on his phone, he memorized it so there was no real meaning to why he deleted it a while ago.

When you read the name on your phone’s screen once it started vibrating you thought you’d faint.

You wished that he had butt dialed you, or that maybe he called the wrong person. You knew you were wrong.

“James?” You said as you picked up and paused the TV in front of you.

“y/n. Hi, merry Christmas.” He sat up straight on the couch. “What are you doing?”

You couldn’t believe him.

“What?” You asked, even though you heard him clearly the first time.

“What are you doing tonight?”

So he was booty calling you on Christmas, was that it?

“I’m currently watching every single sitcom Christmas episode I can think of. You?”

“I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past three hours. Are you by yourself?”

“Yes.” You replied, almost whispering. You couldn’t understand him.

“Me too. Can I come pick you up? We could maybe watch every single sitcom Christmas episode together. I have some food here.” He was already getting up and putting on his shoes outside of the apartment.

“Sure.”

You sighed after hanging up, what could go wrong? You’d go, you’d eat his food, you wouldn’t hook up with him and you’d be home by midnight. It was fine. Everything was under control.

Until you got into his car.

Until you felt his smell, the three in one shampoo that had the sweetest smell a three in one shampoo could ever have.

“Hey, you look great.” He said, looking at you as you put on the seatbelt.

“Thanks, you too.”

“Did you change your hair?” James asked, starting to drive.

“Kind of, yes.” You looked out the window and then back at him. “You look the same.”

He let out a small laugh. “I do.”

It was usually a 10 minute drive from your apartment to his, in which you awkwardly played with the hem of your skirt and made small talk.

“I have some frozen pizza at home, we could make popcorn too if you like, I bought one of those air popping machine things a few weeks ago. Actually, Sirius got that.” He said as he parked the car on the empty street in front of the apartment complex.

“I’d like that.”

Maybe you believed everything was still in control until you entered his apartment, the floor was cold and you left your shoes at the door. He locked it behind you.

“You remember the place don’t you?” You nodded. “There’s a few blankets and a sweater on the couch and you can turn on the TV if you want to. I’ll take the pizza out of the freezer and get the popcorn machine ready.”

You decided on starting with The Office’s season two Christmas episode, then you watch the other eight. Or you’d move to New Girl, then maybe Brooklyn 99, possibly Seinfeld.

“Bad news!” You heard James say from the kitchen. “Theres no corn to pop” he said, coming out and looking at you sitting on the couch.

“It’s alright, how about we watch this one and then I can help you out with the pizza?” You moved to the right side of the couch, inviting him to sit on your left.

You did realize you had no control over anything once he sat and instinctively wrapped his left arm around your shoulder. That might’ve also been when he realized he had no control.

“What are we watching?” He asked as you covered your legs with the blanket on the couch, he pulled some of it to himself and shared with you, your knees touching under it.

“I thought we could start by the office, we obviously won’t watch all of them, so we can move to New Girl afterwards, then maybe we could do Brooklyn 99 or Seinfeld because I know you like those two.” You looked at him and he hummed.

“That’s a good plan.” You smiled at him and started the episode.

When Micheal started talking about the Yankee Swap, James took his left arm from off your shoulder and put it under the covers to scratch his calf. You missed the feeling of him over your shoulders, until he rested his hand on your upper knee.

You felt your entire body go hot until the end of the episode, when he took the blanket from off you both and supported himself on your thigh to get up from the couch, ‘accidentally’ giving it a light squeeze. You thought you were about to go insane and paused the TV, maybe it really was a Christmas booty call.

“I only have pepperoni, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you put it in the oven? I’ll get us something to drink.”

“Sure.” He brushed his hand against your waist as he moved behind you to open the fridge.

“There’s Diet Coke, wine and orange juice.” He looked back at you.

“Wine.” You answered, watching him take the bottle out along with a can of Coke.

“Aren’t you going to drink with me?” You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard and moved next to him.

“I have to drive you home.” He smiled at you.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” You smiled back at him.

“I can’t let you walk or uber home.” He put your hair behind your ear.

“I could crash here, if there’s space for me.” You almost whispered, looking at him doe eyed.

“There’s always space for you in my bed.” He stated, his voice low as he poured wine into both of the glasses.

He watched you take a sip and realized you were holding back a laugh.

“What is it?” He smiled.

“This sucks.” You giggled softly. He took a sip from his glass and made a face.

“Oh my god,” he laughed “you have to blame Remus though, I don’t think I bought wine more than once in my entire life.” You smiled, remembering the bottle he brought to your house on your third date. He moved closer to you, resting his hands on your waist.

“I’m sorry about the wine.” He whispered and you felt his breathing against your face, you hummed and looked up at him, moving your hands to the back of his neck, gently stroking his hair.

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into your eyes. He slowly leaned in, you could feel your heartbeat as he got closer to you. You felt his lips brush against yours and then his phone’s alarm went off, scaring the both of you.

“The damn pizza” he muttered, turning off the oven but not taking the food out. You leaned against the counter and looked at James, who put his hands on your waist again, asking you “Where were we?”, making you laugh for the first time in a while.

You threw your hands over his neck as he hugged you so tightly that you thought maybe you both could merge into one.

“I missed you.” You whispered into his ear.

“Yeah?” He teased you and you hummed. “I missed you so much, love.” He started kissing your neck, holding you tightly by your lower waist.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.” He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “Let me make it up to you, please.” You nodded.

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you quickly.

“Use your words.” He muttered against your mouth and your breath hitched.

“Yes, please.” You replied and he brought his lips back against yours, this time you parted your mouth and he let his tongue slip into it. His lips moved hungrily against yours, the hands on your waist quickly moving to cup your ass firmly. Before you knew it, you were moving against him, glad you’d chosen to wear a skirt as breathy moans slipped from your lips against his.

All of a sudden James pulled his lips away from yours,

“Go to my room, I’ll be there in a second.” He said, pointing to the corridor.

You left the door open and sat on his bed, waiting for him. Everything was the same, except for the photograph of the both of you he had framed and left on his desk, which was now nowhere to be seen. He came into the room with something behind his back.

“I got this for you in November, in case we saw each other today. I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you.” He handed you a black corduroy box, which had a gold necklace with a small heart pendant.

“Oh James, this is so pretty.” You looked at him smiling and closing the box and putting it on his nightstand “I’ll put it on later, thank you so much.”

“Let me make everything up to you, I truly am sorry.” He said, taking off his glasses and sitting in front of you on the bed. You put your hands behind his neck and pulled him in, kissing him gently as he moved closer to you, his knee between your legs.

You laid down and his mouth started to make its way to your neck, giving it soft kisses then gently biting and sucking, making sure to leave a few marks. Meanwhile, his hands trailed their way to your breasts, going under your already loose bra and playing with your nipples. He quickly helped you take off your shirt, also removing his own.

James quickly kissed your mouth and started to trail small kisses from it to your right nipple, which he brought to his mouth and sucked on, nipping at it with his front teeth every once in a while, meanwhile his left hand stimulated your other nipple.

Your hands moved to his hair, stroking it and tugging on it every once in a while, leading to groans that would send vibrations to your breasts.

Suddenly, he pressed his knee against your damp underwear as you desperately tried to get more friction from it, until he held down your hips.

“Let me help you, baby.” he hummed against your chest. “I’m going to take care of you, don’t worry.”

He helped you take off your skirt as you raised your hips, tossing it next to the bed and kissing your tummy, making his way down to your underwear, lowering it and kissing the skin right above your slit, almost where you needed him the most. He started to kiss your inner thighs, going up to your clothed core, pressing another kiss right on top of your covered clit, making you moan as he took off your panties, carefully placing them on top of your skirt on the floor.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his breath fanning against your pussy.

He started slowly at first, licking from your entrance to your clit, sucking it in the most careful way he could. Until you couldn’t hold back your moaning and you remembered how James Potter gave head like a starved man.

He held your thighs open as he sucked on your sensitive bud and fucked two fingers into you, making your back arch and causing you release the most incoherent sentences from your mouth, a mix of swearing, the word god and his name, but really, in that moment, the later two were probably the same to you.

Your hands tugged onto his hair as you reached your high, he looked up at you and kept stimulating your clit with his thumb, inserting a third finger into your hole.

“Cum for me, honey.” He said, sensing you were close to your high and going back to sucking your bud.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you moaned out his name, squeezing his head in between your thighs as he carried you through your orgasm.

Once you were finished, James moved up to kiss you. His mouth moving hungrily against yours.

“I want you.” you said as you pulled away, looking into his eyes.

“You already have me, sweetheart.” He smiled, getting up to get something to clean you up with. You pulled him back by the wrist.

“No, I want you in me. Please. ‘Need more.” You said lowly, giving him a quick peck.

“You sure?” You knew he wanted it too, he just wanted to make you feel good and forget about himself for the rest of the night.

“Yes, please James.” You replied, pulling him by the wrist again once he went to reach for a condom in the nightstand drawer. “I want to feel you. I’m on the pill, please.”

He smiled, taking off his sweatpants and going on top of you, his knees pressed against the mattress next to your thighs as he kissed you, tilting your head to deepen it.

He started kissing your neck, giving soft pecks on the marks he had left behind earlier, while taking his length out of his underwear and lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you with his tip as you practically begged him to get inside of you.

“Patience, baby.” He muttered, slowly starting to thrust into your needy hole whilst pulling your right leg up and bending it, almost making your leg shin touch your thigh as he tried to go as deep as possible.

You couldn’t help but moan out his name once he started thrusting and kept hitting the most perfect spot he could whilst stimulating your bean with his thumb. You clenched around his cock as he started to thrust rapidly into you.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so good.” He’d whisper in between grunts in your ear while you scratched his back in pleasure. “So- mhm so good for me, baby.” He said, his mouth clashing against yours, his tongue entering your mouth as you opened it. You clenched your pussy around him and you both can’t help but moan into each other’s mouths, his thrusts getting faster and his grunts and moans only louder, showing you how close he also is.

You felt your second orgasm building up as he pinched your clit and you squealed onto his tongue, your teeth clashing, causing him to pull away and smile against your mouth, his teeth against your lips.

“Are you close, princess?” He whispered and you replied with a nod, your nose against his cheek. He thrusted quickly and made circular motions on your clit at the same pace. “Hm, cum for me baby, cum on my cock.” He commanded as you reached your second high, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss you again. The kiss was sloppy as he shot his load into you and you clenched around him, his thrusts faltering.

He collapsed right next to you, grabbing his glasses on the bedside table to look at you properly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He praised you, smiling as he stroked your hair. “Thank you for picking up. Thank you for being here. For everything.” He whispered.

“Thank you for calling.” You smiled.

“The pizza’s probably cold.” He muttered, looking at his bedroom door.

“I don’t care.” You gave him a peck. “Merry Christmas, James.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[m4rv3l-girl]

Hi - Part 2

Warnings: lots of fluff. Some kisses..? 🤭

Y/N stood outside the small Italian restaurant, one hand gripping her purse strap a little too tightly, the other resting on Leo’s shoulder. He was squinting up at the lights in the window, a stuffed dinosaur clutched in his arms, and she could already hear his stomach grumbling.

“Do you think he’ll be mad?” She thought.

Leo blinked up at you. “Is Mr. Bucky still coming?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, though your heart twisted a little. “He’s… He’s coming.”

The truth was, she didn’t want to cancel. After all this time, after the slow, shy messages that turned warm and steady. After the phone calls that started awkward and ended with her laughing so hard she nearly cried. Bucky had asked her to dinner, and she’d been ready -until the sitter cancelled last-minute.

She texted Bucky, apologizing and saying she’d understand if he wanted to reschedule. But instead of brushing it off, he’d replied: Bring him. I'd love to see him again.

Her chest had swelled with emotion when she read it. And now, standing outside, nerves fluttered again.

Inside the restaurant, warm golden lighting made everything feel soft and intimate. She spotted Bucky right away, back corner booth, dark henley shirt stretched across his shoulders, fingers drumming nervously against his water glass. He looked up, caught her eye - and stood immediately.

“There they are,” he said, grinning wide.

Leo hesitated behind her leg for a short moment, until Bucky crouched a little and held out his flesh hand, like they were just two old friends meeting up again.

“Hey, pal,” Bucky said. “I missed you.”

Leo lit up like a firework, running toward him without hesitation. “I brought Dino!”

“That’s awesome,” Bucky laughed, sweeping him up in a one-armed hug before setting him gently down in the seat beside him. “Hope you’re hungry. I already asked if they had chicken nuggets for superheroes.”

Y/N stepped closer, heart in her throat, not quite sure what she expected, but certainly not this. Not the ease in which Bucky greeted her son. Not the way he looked up at her with warm eyes and said, “You okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded slowly, slipping into the booth across from them, watching as Bucky pulled an extra chair over so Leo could sit comfortably beside him. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dinner was… easy.

Leo told him all about his dinosaur collection, the Lego tower he built last week, and his big plans to be a superhero, an astronaut and a “dinosaur doctor,” depending on the day. Bucky listened intently, nodding along like every word was gold. Y/N caught him smiling at her more than once - especially when Leo got sauce on his nose and Bucky gently wiped it off like he'd done it a thousand times before.

When the waitress came by to ask about dessert, Bucky raised his hand before Y/N could even brush it off. “Two bowls of vanilla with chocolate chips, please. And whatever Mom wants.”

She blinked. “Bucky, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said gently. “I missed you both.”

Her heart squeezed, and she reached across the table, fingertips brushing against his. His hand turned to hold hers, calloused and warm.

“Bucky!” Leo interrupted, bouncing in his seat. “Can you come to our house and see my Lego collection? It’s so big! Bigger than a T-Rex!”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her grip on the menu tightening. She hadn’t prepared for this. But she watched as Bucky’s eyes lit up, his smile genuine. “I’d love to, buddy. Maybe after dessert, we could swing by, just for a little bit, if it’s okay with your mom?”

Leo’s grin was so wide it could have split the earth in two. “Yes! Mommy, can we?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep the surprise from her voice. Her mind racing back to the state her home was in currently… “Well, it is getting late, and you have school tomorrow, but if Mr. Bucky doesn’t mind a messy house, sure. Just for a bit.”

Bucky’s eyes never left hers as he nodded. “I don’t mind messes, not at all. Besides, I can help clean up, if you want.”

The kindness in his voice made her want to melt into the plush seat. She’d never had a partner who was so eager to be a part of Leo’s life. Some of the men she’d dated had looked at Leo as a burden, an inconvenience. Baggage. But not Bucky. He treated Leo as if he were the most important person in the world.

The dessert arrived, and Bucky made a show of sharing bites of his ice cream with Leo, making exaggerated yummy sounds that had the boy giggling. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this at ease in public with someone other than Leo. Bucky’s presence was like a warm blanket she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Leo’s hand reached up and nudged Bucky’s. He was just testing the waters…seeing what would happen.

Bucky looked over, meeting Y/N’s gaze for permission, and then took Leo’s small hand in his. The gesture was so simple, so unassuming, yet it felt monumental to Y/N. “You okay, kiddo?” he asked, and the affection in his voice made something inside her crack open a little wider.

“Yup, I’m just really happy, Bucky.” Leo beamed, swinging their joined hands.

The walk to her apartment was short, but it felt like a mile as the gravity of the moment settled over them. Bucky talked to Leo about his favorite superheroes, the conversation a gentle reminder of how much he’d integrated himself into her world. His questions about Leo’s life weren’t probing but genuinely curious, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the caffeine from her espresso.

When they reached the apartment building, she took a deep breath. "So, the apartment is a bit.. chaotic."

Bucky just chuckled. "I've seen worse," he assured her. "Remember, I've lived through two world wars and fought aliens. I can handle a few Legos."

The apartment was indeed a whirlwind of toys and art projects, but it was a lived-in warmth that greeted them rather than chaos. Bucky stepped in, eyes scanning the room before landing on a particularly impressive Lego structure. "Wow, Leo, this is like a castle for ants!"

Leo looked up from where he was rummaging through a bin, his cheeks red from the cold. "It's for my mini figures!"

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck at the clutter. "He's got quite the imagination," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Bucky crouched down to examine the castle closer. "It's incredible," he said, looking up at Leo with admiration. "You're a real architect, pal."

Leo beamed with pride, and Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. This was what she had hoped for, someone who could see the joy in her son’s creativity instead of just the mess it sometimes created.

“What’s an arpichect?”

Y/N looked up from the kitchen where she was putting the kettle on for tea. Leo’s question echoed through the hallway, a mix of curiosity and wonder. She watched as Bucky’s eyebrows shot up and he chuckled. “Architect, buddy. It means you design and make buildings.”

Leo nodded, his eyes wide. “Oh! Like Tony Stark!”

“Exactly like Tony Stark,” Bucky said, ruffling his hair. “But instead of iron suits, you build Lego cities. Which is much cooler.”

Leo’s eyes lit up even more, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. She hadn’t seen him this excited to show off his toys in a long time. As they moved into the living room, she saw the pile of laundry she hadn’t had time to fold and the books scattered on the floor. The place wasn’t a disaster, but it certainly wasn’t showroom ready.

“Buck, I’m sorry about the..mess,” she said, gesturing to the pile.

He waved a dismissive hand. “Life is messy, doll.”

They sat on the floor, the three of them, while Bucky listened to Leo’s elaborate narratives about the battles his mini figures faced every day in their Lego fortress. He nodded along, asking questions about the characters and the rules of their world, his genuine interest lighting up the room. Y/N found herself relaxing into the couch cushions.

“Okay, Honey, time to say goodnight to Bucky. It’s bedtime.” She picked Leo up into her arms. She turned to Bucky. “Do you, uh..mind waiting here for a minute while I put him down..?”

“Of course not,” Bucky said, his smile not wavering. “I’ll just keep an eye on the fortress, make sure the aliens don’t attack while the king is asleep.” Leo giggled, snuggling into his mother’s neck. “You’re the best, Bucky!”

Once Leo was tucked in, his eyes drooping with exhaustion from the excitement of the evening, Y/N stepped out of the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching Bucky picking up stray Legos and placing them back into their respective containers. He glanced up at her, a question in his eyes.

“‘Thank you…” She hummed.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, his smile never fading. “For what?”

“For making him feel so special, for making me feel… seen. For not being bothered by the mess or the bedtime routines. For just being you,” she said, her voice thick with unshed emotion.

Bucky paused, his metal hand hovering over a half-constructed Lego spaceship. He turned to look at her, his eyes softening. “You and Leo, you’re special. Nothing to thank me for, I just want to be here for both of you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. In the quiet of the dimly lit hallway, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Gratitude, yes, but also something deeper, something that whispered of hope.

"You know," she began, "I wasn’t sure how this would go. I mean, dinner with a kiddo and all."

Bucky shrugged, his movements deliberate and gentle as he put the last of the Legos away. "I’ve had worse dinner dates," he quipped, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Y/N rolled her eyes, a laugh bubbling from her chest. "You’re not so bad at this wooing thing, Bucky.”

He looked up, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It’s all just playing to the audience, doll,” he said, gesturing to the now organized Lego city.

The two of them sat in the quiet living room, the only sound the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background. She studied him as he leaned against the couch, his legs sprawled out in front of him. There was something about his ease in her space, his willingness to engage with Leo that made her feel like she’d known him forever.

“So, tell me about your day,” he said, changing the subject. “What’s new in the life of a superhero mom?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing. “Well, it’s been full of snacks and cartoons, mostly.” She sat down next to him on the floor, her legs folding under her. “But nothing compared to fighting bad guys, I’m sure,” she added with a playful nudge.

Bucky chuckled, setting aside the last of the Legos. “You’d be surprised. Some parenting battles seem just as fierce, just with more spit-ups and bedtime stories.”

They shared a quiet moment, the weight of the world outside their door seemingly forgotten as they talked about the mundane and magical parts of her day. Bucky’s curiosity about her life was refreshing, and she found herself opening up more than she had with anyone in a long time. As the conversation flowed, she realized how much she enjoyed his company, not just because of the joy he brought to Leo, but because of the comfort he brought to her.

“You know, Bucky, I never thought I’d be here, doing this. Being a mom, I mean,” she said, her voice soft. “I always thought I’d have someone to share it with.”

He turned to her, his gaze earnest. “You’re doing an amazing job, Y/N. And Leo’s a lucky kid to have you. But maybe, you weren’t meant to do it alone.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of pity or condescension, but all she found was sincerity. She took a deep breath, letting the words wash over her like a gentle wave. It was the kind of thing people said all the time, but from Bucky, it felt like a declaration.

The silence grew, and she knew she had to respond, to tell him that she appreciated his words, but she was afraid of what admitting her feelings would mean. Before she could speak, Bucky leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it’s not easy, raising a kid on your own. But you're not alone, not anymore." His hand reached out and took hers, the warmth from his touch seeping through the cold metal of his prosthetic.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "Bucky, I don’t know what to say."

He squeezed her hand gently. "You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you. For both of you." For the first time in a long time, Bucky felt like had purpose, had a life had..people.

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked them back, not wanting to ruin the moment. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "Bucky, I…I don't know if I can do this."

He leaned closer, his grip on her hand tightening. "Do what, doll?"

"This," she whispered, gesturing between them. "Letting someone in, letting them love me and Leo. It's…it's been a long time since I've let anyone get this close."

Bucky nodded. "I understand," he said softly. "But I…I’m feeling things for you that I’ve never felt before. And Leo..I..he’s awesome.”

The words hung in the air, a declaration that seemed to fill the small room with warmth and promise. Y/N looked down at their joined hands, his metal thumb rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. She felt the weight of his gaze, the quiet understanding in his eyes.

“I’m not saying it’s going to be perfect, but I want to try. For you, for him. For us, if…if you’ll have me,” he added, his voice barely audible.

Y/N took a shaky breath, feeling the gravity of the moment. This was the first time in years that she’d allowed someone to get this close to her and Leo. But with Bucky, it felt different. It felt right.

“I want that too,” she said, finally meetinghis gaze. “But I’m scared, Bucky. What if I mess it up?”

He reached over and placed a comforting hand on her knee. “We’ll figure it out together, sweetheart. I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

The sincerity in his eyes was like a beacon in the dark, guiding her through her fear. She leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth spread through her, melting the ice that had formed around her heart.

“Okay,” she murmured, taking another deep breath. “Let’s take it one day at a time. For Leo.”

Bucky nodded, his expression serious. “For Leo, and for us, if that’s what you want.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, the air thick with the promise of what might be. Y/N took a sip of her now lukewarm tea, the comforting warmth seeping into her chest. She watched as Bucky’s eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she’d changed her mind.

“I want that,” she said, her voice a little stronger this time. “But I need you to be patient with us. Leo’s been through a lot, and I…I don’t want to rush into anything that might confuse or hurt him.”

Bucky’s thumb stroked her knuckles again, the gentle touch reassuring. “I understand. I’ve had a bit of experience with that myself.” His smile was sad, but it didn’t take away from the warmth in his eyes. “We’ll move at whatever pace you want to, Doll.”

The silence between them grew again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like they were both standing at the edge of something big, something life-changing, and they were just taking a moment to appreciate the view before taking the leap.

Y/N leaned in, her heart racing as she placed her free hand on Bucky’s cheek. His skin was cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat of his hand. She studied the lines of his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he talked about her son, the gentle curve of his mouth when he talked about the future.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and she kissed him. It was soft and tentative at first, a question and an answer all in one.

Bucky’s hand slid around the back of her neck, his touch firm but gentle, guiding her closer. He kissed her back, his lips moving against hers with a kind of tender desperation that made her toes curl. It was a promise and a plea, a declaration that he’d be here, that he wouldn’t leave. When they parted, she felt a little dizzy, the world tilting on its axis.

“I won’t rush you, Y/N. I’ll be here, as much or as little as you need me to be,” he murmured, his eyes searching hers. “But I’ve waited a long time for this, for you and Leo. And I’m not going anywhere.”

A small smile played on her lips, her heart fluttering in her chest. “Good to know,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his.

They sat there for a few moments, just breathing together, their hands still intertwined. Then she pulled back, her gaze flicking towards the clock on the wall. It was later than she realized, the hands pointing almost accusingly at the time they’d lost in the warm cocoon of their conversation.

“I should probably get to bed, too,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “It’s been a big day for all of us.”

Bucky nodded, reluctantly letting her hand go. He stood up and offered her a hand to help her up from the floor. As they walked to the door, she couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded. The night had taken a turn she hadn’t expected, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what might come next.

When she turned the lock, he stepped closer, his eyes searching hers one last time before he leaned in and kissed her cheek, a soft brush of warmth that made her eyelids flutter closed for a brief moment. "Thank you for tonight," he whispered.

"Thank you," she murmured back, the words feeling inadequate for what he had brought into her world. The warmth of his body lingered even after he’d stepped away, leaving a space she hadn’t noticed before. She watched him go, his form shrinking into the night until he was just a memory.

As the door clicked shut, she leaned against it, her breathing a little too fast. A massive smile painted on her face.

——————————————————————————————————

We’re just giving Bucky a fresh start and ignoring any spelling mistakes 😌

[mirisss]

Atz reaction to their s/o being financially broken

Ateez x gn!college/university student! reader 

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write this but I hope you enjoy this! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to a poly relationship or not so I wrote it as if the relationships are separate, so each ATZ member has their own s/o. 

Wordcount ≈ 1.2k

Warnings: Anxiety, overworking, exhaustion, financial problems, (Not that angsty though,)

Reactions under the cut

Seonghwa, Yeosang, Mingi, Yunho, Jongho

He had noticed that you didn’t seem to have a lot of time to hang out with him recently as you constantly had to study or work. At first, he didn’t think much of it, thinking it was just because of exam season that you were so stressed. But once this kept happening for over a month, he could barely reach you, you never answered his calls, or barely any of his texts, only answering “Sorry, busy studying, talk to you later”. He understood that something must be going on, his first thought would be if he had done anything wrong so one night, he went over to your apartment, knocked on the door but no one opened it, he assumed that you were at the restaurant/bar where you work so he went over there. Once at the door to the restaurant, he saw you running around inside, immediately noticing that you looked sick and feverish, you didn’t even notice him as he stood in front of you. One of your colleagues noticed him, quickly ushering him over. 

“You should really convince them to go home, they’ve been working double shifts for two weeks, and even trying to pick up more shifts every now and then,” He was shocked to find out just how much you had been working. He walked over to you, gently putting a hand on your shoulder, “Hey, love, can we talk?” You were surprised to see him but said yes and went to the back of the building, where he technically wasn’t allowed to be as a non-employee but you were with him so it was fine. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you finally sat down for the first time in probably 12 or 15 hours. “That´s what I want to ask you, your colleague just told me you’ve been working double shifts for 2 weeks straight, you look sick, you definitely have a fever, you’ve been distant for over a month, I just want to understand what’s going on,” He saw tears beginning to form in your eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” “It’s obviously something, please, (Y/n), tell me what’s going on, I’m your boyfriend, you should be able to rely on me,” You sighed and then proceeded to tell him everything. 

“My landlord raised my rent a lot about a month ago and with my old schedule, I couldn’t afford the rent or the cost of uni and everything so I had to start working more to earn enough not to be evicted, but having to work for 20 hours each day doesn’t leave a lot of time to study or sleep so I’m falling behind on classes and I don’t know what to do because no matter what I think of, there’s no solution that actually works,” He just looked at you in shock. “Why haven’t you told me about this? I could help you, I have asked before to move in together, that would help a lot with the cost of living for you,” “I can’t just rely on you for this, it’s my problem,” “Hey, we’re in this together, besides, I earn enough to support us both for a while so that you can focus on studying. I love you, (Y/n), it pains me to see you so overworked, I want to help, so please rely on me,” You couldn’t say no anymore, fatigue, fever, and finally feeling like you could have some rest catching up with you so you just nodded, whispering, ‘yes please’, before falling asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Hongjoong, Wooyoung, San

They would never let it come to the point of you being financially broken or exhausted mentally, nope, these two are just very attentive or their partner and would notice the second something seemed to be off with you. The first clue was when you canceled last minute on a date he had planned for over a week, to celebrate the anniversary of your first kiss together, he would take you to a fancy restaurant, something you usually enjoyed but this day you canceled on him the morning of the date just saying “I’m not feeling like doing something fancy”. He was shocked but nonetheless, he canceled the booking at the restaurant and asked if you should just order takeout and a movie night at his place, but you shot that down too with the excuse of exams coming up. 

The second, and final clue to something being wrong, was when he walked by the office where you work part-time, in the middle of the day, when you definitely had classes, but he found you at the office, looking more stressed than ever before. 

“Hey, love, what are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” “Oh Joong/Woo/Sannie, um, no, I, um, don’t” It was obvious that you were lying to him, and he wondered why, as it never happened before. “I know you’re lying, (Y/n), what’s actually going on?” You just sighed, looking down at the ground. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” “I won’t judge you, honey,” “I’m going to be evicted from my apartment, I took a pay cut about a week ago and with it, I can’t afford to pay rent, and my landlord isn’t one to be understanding of me being a student so they’ll kick you out the second even a penny is missing from the rent. So I’ve been taking on more shifts here, even trying to find another part-time job at a café or something, but with that, I can’t go to classes, so I’m falling behind, and I just want to die, because I’m failing everything, even our relationship,” You were crying and almost hyperventilating at this point. He pulled you into a tight hug, to try and comfort you. His heart was hurting, how hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was this bad? “Jagi, no, you’re not failing our relationship, come live with me? You wouldn’t have to pay rent that way,” “I can’t just let you pay for everything,” 

“Then how about this, you move in with me, you keep your part-time job here but you back to your regular schedule, you can pay a fourth of the rent for my apartment, that’s about equal looking at what we each earn, and that way you still have plenty of time for classes, and for me, your boyfriend,” “How can I say no to that?” “You can’t, I’m just that irresistible,”