#my dad texted me to say he hoped it was true because

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Pull the Thread

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Warnings: mentions of child death

Stitched Together | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

When you wake the next morning, Bucky and Sam are gone. Their sleeping areas are made up and a note is left on your kitchen counter.

Thanks again.

See you around.

-B

PS. call me if you ever need anything

Beside it is a cup of coffee and a stack of bills. You count it out and chuckle in disbelief. Bucky left you two hundred dollars for helping him out.

You grab your phone and type in Bucky's number. You insert a picture of the money along with the text:

You: you didn't have to pay me.

Bucky: I wanted to. For disturbing your night and for your work.

You: It's fine, but thanks anyway.

Bucky: Hope you have a good day, sweetheart. :)

You pause. Sweetheart. You can't help the way your heart beats a little faster when you read that word. He used to call you that when you two were dating. It was never "babe" or "honey". Always "sweetheart".

You feel conflicted. You want to scold him for calling you that...but you also really miss being called that by him.

You decide to not respond back at all, since you still need to eat before you head into work.

_____________

Bucky shows up at your place again a few nights later. This time, he's alone and with a bullet graze on his side.

You frown at him as you let him into your apartment, "Is this going to be a habit of yours?"

He snorts, "You think I purposely get hurt just to come and see you?"

You shrug, "I don't know, Buck! We don't really know each other anymore, so I'm not sure what you'd do!" you snap at him. He looks at you with surprise and you sigh, "Sorry. It's been a long day and I wasn't expecting you."

"I can go. I'll-I can find someone else to help me."

"No. You're here already. Might as well get it over with." You gesture to the couch and he sits down as he waits for you to come back with your first aid kit.

Bucky starts to rethink things. It's true that he didn't purposefully get shot at so he can see you. But he definitely didn't hesitate to start heading to your place as soon as things were handled. He just misses you.

You come back with gloves on. You have Bucky take off his shirt so you can fully assess the wound. Just a bullet graze. He lays on his other side as you clean his wound.

Again, you work in silence. You're focused on getting this done quickly and efficiently so you can go to sleep.

As you dress his wound, you say, "You should get some antibiotics or pain relievers so it doesn't get infected or if the pain becomes too much. Change the dressing often. Make sure there's minimal movement."

He nods, "Alright. I can do that."

You help him sit up and pull his shirt back on.

Once he's dressed, Bucky looks up at you, "Maybe you and I could make an arrangement."

You look at him with a cocked brow and he stammers “Not that kind of arrangement! Business! Strict-Strictly business. You take care of me and my people when we get hurt. I pay you for your efforts and we’re out of your hair until the next time.”

"...I don't know, Bucky."

"We'll be discreet. I promise. I'll make sure everyone knows not to blab about you and to only come if it's an absolute emergency."

"I'm sure you can find an actual doctor or something to help you. Why me?"

"Because I trust you."

"Bucky, my dad is the chief of police. You shouldn't trust me."

"I know you wouldn't tell your dad. Because despite how long it's been, I still know you care about me."

You cross your arms over your chest and look at him defensively, "And how do you know that?"

He gives you a cocky grin, "Because you wouldn't have helped me that first night."

"I was doing my civic duty. I'm in the healthcare field. It's my job to help people no matter where they come from."

"Okay. Fine. All I'm saying is that you do good work and I don't want anyone else fixing me and my guys up, but you. And, of course," he pauses to pull out his money clip, picking out a few hundred dollar bills. He holds it out to you, waiting.

You weigh out your options and then take the money. You agree, because, despite what your father tells you and how Bucky treated you in the past, a part of you still loves him and will always love him.

"Alright. I'll do it. Just let me know when you're coming just so I'm not surprised every time there's a knock at my door."

"Will do," he mumbles, grunting as he stands to his feet, "Get some rest. I'm sorry you had a shitty day."

"It-It's fine. I just-" you pause and start feeling choked up. You let out a sob and you lean forward, burying your face into Bucky's shirt.

His arms immediately wrap around you in a protective, comforting hug, "I got you, sweetheart. It's okay. Let it out." His heart breaks when he hears your muffled cries.

"We lost a patient today. He had cancer. He was only eleven," you mumbled into Bucky.

His arms around you tighten, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. That's heartbreaking. But I'm sure you did everything you could to make sure his last moments were good, right?"

You slowly nod and step away from him. You wipe at your eyes, "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Y/N. Cry on me whenever you like," he gives you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I've just been keeping that in all day. Thanks, Bucky."

"No problem. You're a great nurse, Y/N. I just know that those kids are lucky to have you take care of them. I know I am." He kisses your forehead, "'Til next time." He murmurs before heading to the door.

"Hopefully, not any time soon."

He shoots you a grin, "No promises." With a wink, he's out the door. You go over and lock it in place. You lean against it and let out a long sigh. Your heart is beating fast again.

_________________________

It's one of those nights where you dad comes over after a shift and you two have dinner. Neither of you felt like cooking, so you ordered takeout instead. You eat out of the styrofoam containers at your small dining table, pausing in-between bites to chat.

"Work's been okay?" your dad asks before shoveling food into his mouth.

You swallow your food, washing it down with water, "Yeah. We lost a patient earlier this week and I-I can't seem to shake it."

Your dad nods in understanding, "I get it. It's never easy and it never gets easy. And you can't even do anything but continue working after it happens. You gotta push through it. In our line of work, it's important to care for others, but also important to care for yourself too. Got that, bug?"

"I know, dad. Thanks. What about you? You said earlier that work's been super stressful lately?"

Your dad gives an exhausted sigh and leans back in his chair, "Yeah. Been working closely with different units. For years there's been word that the Barnes Family has been the head of several crime operations happening around the city. They've been good about keeping their tracks covered, but since George Barnes' passing, I'm hoping to see his son slip up." Your dad gives a disappointed shake of his head, "Still can't believe you were friends and dated his son."

"He wasn't a bad kid, dad."

"Yeah, up until he started being a prick to you. Good thing you broke things off with him when you did."

You slowly nod, "Yeah. Good thing."

___________________________

You hadn't seen Bucky for two weeks, but he'd been texting you here and there during that time.

He sent you pictures of dogs he'd seen while out and about, would ask about your dad, even ordered food for you when you said you were too tired to eat. It was really sweet and kind of him, but you couldn't help but still have your reservations about Bucky.

Did your heart skip a beat every time you received a message from him? Absolutely. But were you still anticipating on the day he'd turn around on you again? Yup.

You kept things friendly, but also not too friendly. You didn't indulge in anything too personal or detailed. For all you knew, Bucky could be using you to get information about what your dad had on him. As much as you wanted to think Bucky wouldn't do that, you had to keep yourself accountable and aware.

[jooyeonsvape]

Mix Tapes

w/c: 2.6k

pairing: nonidol!wonwoo, famous!female reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: drinking, dry humping, riding, biting, softcore

a/n: this is the longest fic i’ve made so far and it’s the first of my seventeen genre!! i hope you enjoy, follow and like!! you can also request now, i’m up to write about anything 🫶

your birthdays were never a big celebration for you or your friends, and half of them didn’t even know your actual birth date.

your family gave you wishes in form of texts and you preferred no parties or attention on you, it’s kind of dark, but you just see birthdays as one year closer to death.

“hey honey, have a good birthday tomorrow, miss you xx.” a smile spread across your face when you see your mothers message, missing her like crazy, moving to seoul wasn’t an easy decision but for your career as an actress, it was necessary.

during the free time you had, you made sure to spend it wisely, and go out every night with your friends to party. tonight is just a different club for you to drink dry and dance until you can’t stand anymore.

the car service you ordered was picking you up 4 hours after you arrived and the security guard at the front door escorted you to the car, helping you walk as you were stumbling around.

“thank you, call me, i’ll give you a cameo in my next show.” you slur out, hugging the huge man then stepping inside the car lazily. there was paparazzi and fans taking pictures of you exiting the club, but you were too hammered to care.

the next morning, you woke up with a huge migraine and the clothes you had on the night before. you turn over and see headache medicine then give yourself a high five, “so smart.” you whisper but even blinking hurt so you shudder with pain.

when you check your phone it was filled with messages and calls from multiple people asking if you were okay. your eyebrow raises, then clicks on a link one of your friends sent. the title was ‘actress [Y/N], leaving with a bodyguard after drunken night.’ and the picture was of you hugging the random man who opened the door for you.

your eyes were opened so wide you thought they were going to pop out. “shit.” was all you said and immediately get a call from your mother. you answer, already knowing you were about to be yelled at.

“[Y/N]? have you seen this news? what’s going on?” she asks in a concerned voice but you can tell she had an angry tone. “it’s not true, i just went out with friends and he opened the door for me.” you answer with a sigh, flopping back on your bed. “you’ve gone out every night since your break and it’s not healthy. your dad is on his way to you now, we’ve discussed it and you need to be here with us, this is getting out of control.”

you pop right back up from your pillows and stutter, “n-no mom, i’m an adult, i can handle this, tell him to turn around.”

“better get packing honey, he left about 20 minutes ago, he’ll be there soon. you don’t need too much, you still have things at our house.” she ignores your persistent decline of going back home and hangs up. “shiiiiiitt.” you moan again but louder.

packing the clothes you needed wasn’t hard because you had everything designer at your apartment and your relaxing clothes at your parents house, who lived on a farm.

in their overbearing and smothering ways, your dad just walked in without a knock, smiling bright. “hi dad, i’m almost ready.” you say with attitude and he gives you a hug. “she just wants whats best for you, go along with it or i’ll be the one in trouble.” he chuckles, kissing your forehead. you had no other choice but to agree, and head out to the house you grew up in.

once at the farm, your dad brings your bags inside and your mom walks outside with her hands on her hips. “hi mother, i missed you.” you try to hug her but she tsks. “don’t sweet talk me, i just made dinner for the workers, help me serve them.” she demands and you nod. “oh, and happy birthday, im glad you are here with us for it.”

your eyes roll which you knew your mother hated, but you’d much rather be in your luxury apartment alone and not in a small farmhouse with your needy parents.

“hi [Y/N].” you hear a deep voice mumble shyly and you turn your head around. “hey wonwoo, you still work here?” he nods and grabs the plate of food you handed him.

you knew him since elementary school and slowly grew a friendship because of your brother, mingyu, who gave him a job. “enjoy.” you smile brightly and his heart skips a beat.

you stayed in your room most of the day, looking at all the articles on you, which were fabricated. it made you so mad because you knew everything they said was a lie, but they just wanted to sell stories, truth or not.

you turn your head slightly and see wonwoo out of your window with his shirt off, cutting firewood. “damn he got ripped.” you whisper to yourself and instantly go back to your phone when someone walks in.

it was your mother of course and she hands you an envelope with something loose inside. “i haven’t gotten one of these in years… that’s weird that as soon as i got back home, one arrives.” you whisper, opening the envelope to see an old school cassette tape inside.

it had all the songs you love on the tape and you have been receiving one every year on your birthday. it’s undisclosed on who’s sending it, but you’ve had so many different theories over the years. the only hint the mystery person gave you was a ‘from: WW’ on the front, in english.

you listened to it and just like you assumed, it had the songs you have linked to your spotify playlist as favorites. it was a sweet gesture but also very annoying because who could it be? your mom? a friend? a stalker? secret admirer?

the mixtape was on its last song when your mother comes in, handing you a plate of snacks, “the farm hands are going out for a drink with your brother, do you want to go?” she asks and you shrug, “it’s been a long day.” you mumble but she does her famous ‘tsk’. “its your birthday and even though you don’t like celebrating, you should at least have some kind of fun. the only people going who knows about it, is your brother, uncle, and wonwoo.”

you think for a short period of time and then nod, “alright, i’ll go.”

after getting dressed quickly you kiss both of your parents on the cheek, as does mingyu, and he drives the both of you to the local bar. “hell yeah, i thought you were going to take me somewhere boring.” you cheer and a cheeky smile plastered over mingyu’s face. “you haven’t been inside yet, they just have good food.” he chuckles and you groan.

it definitely wasn’t like a seoul club, instead of A list actors’ eyes on you, it was old local farm workers.

your body got physical chills when one of the men whistled at you, and making you incredibly uncomfortable. “[Y/N], ignore him, he does that to any woman that walks inside.” you hear the same deep voice from earlier, behind you, and leads you to a booth.

“hi wonwoo,” now you were the one who was shy when you remember him chopping wood. “what will you have? it’s on me.” he asks with his typical tiny smile that you always found so innocent.

“apple martini please, extra vodka.” you answer and he nods, going to the bartender to order but was embarrassed to say it out loud with everyone else drinking straight soju.

he brings all the drinks back and you instantly down the martini in one gulp, everyone at the table looking at you with wide eyes. “we didn’t even get to cheers.” mingyu groans out and you let out a giggle, “my bad, i needed it.”

after 3 more, you started feeling the alcohol, along with everyone else at the table, “i’m going to go on stage tonight.” wonwoo announces, lifting up his bottle of soju so everyone could cheers him.

this side to him was unfamiliar but you liked it, he was much more himself when he’s laughing with his friends.

“what song will you be playing?” you ask and he shakes his head, “it’s going to be a surprise.” he answered, taking another shot. “come to the dance floor, i want you guys to make it seem like i have a crowd.” wonwoo chuckles, his lips wider than you’ve ever seen.

you stand up along with the other men, walking to the dance floor as wonwoo steps on stage, and grabbing the guitar.

he played so well, you were just staring into his eyes, soon not listening to the song he sang, and just being drifted away in the music.

your ears perk up a bit when you listened to the lyrics he sang and they started sounding familiar, it was a song on the mixtape.

‘the top song on my playlist… WW…wonwoo…?’ you tell your inner monologue, and everything started coming together. wonwoo was your secret admirer?

the room started to spin then, before you knew it, your body turned around and without meaning to, your legs began to run.

you didn’t know how you were going to get home drunk, but you continued to run down the dirt rural road.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N]!” you hear someone yell behind you and finally the voice got closer. wonwoo caught up with you, grabbing your wrist and twisting you around to face him. “why did you run out like that?” he asks, both of you out of breath.

“you’re WW, the one who has sent me mixtapes every year on my birthday since i was 10.” you cry out and he lets your wrist go. “are you mad?”

you chuckle and look up at the sky, immediately feeling sober. “mad?” you ask back, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, slamming your lips on his. “it’s the sweetest thing i’ve ever experienced.” you whisper against his lips and can feel him smiling as he kisses back.

“come on, let me take you back home, its late.” wonwoo pulls away slowly, taking your hand. “i’m not tired,” you whisper lowly, feeling embarrassed about the situation.

the mystery was finally solved after all these years.

“let’s go somewhere and talk then.” wonwoo suggests, walking the both of you back to your farm. “there’s a storage shed where i go to get away for a bit.” he grasps your hand tighter and climbs up a ladder to the top window of the shed, over looking the land.

“this is beautiful at night.” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. “i can’t believe it’s you, i’m shocked.” wonwoo hums at your words, leaning his head down so he’s looking at you in the eyes. “really? i thought i was being obvious.” he jokes and you giggle, giving him another kiss. “well, now i know why you’re always shy around me but out going with everyone else.”

“yeah, you make me nervous.” he whispers, swallowing hard after the kiss. you see his adams apple go up and down when he swallows, tracing it with your finger slowly. “pretty.” you mumble, then reach up to kiss it.

wonwoo leans his head back slowly and feels each kiss on his neck, making him swallow harder. your lips turn into a smirk and swing a leg around his waist so you were now sat in his lap, continuing to kiss.

“[Y/N…]” he groans soft, beginning to become firm underneath you. “it’s okay wonwoo, i want to.” you whisper in his ear, grinding down slow on his lap.

“will you remember it tomorrow?” he pulls away, looking into your eyes. you nod, giving him another kiss, but more passionate this time.

wonwoo wraps his arms around your waist, then starts leading your hips into a dry hump. you could tell he liked it slow and passionate instead of hard.

his kiss made your heart flutter, and the feeling of his fingertips on your arms so he could take your dress off made you wet as hell. “you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my life.” he mumbles against your lips, unhooking your bra once the dress was off.

“you got ripped as hell since i left.” you giggle, pulling away from the kiss so you could see his chest again. you pull his tight shirt off, and move your hands around his bare chest, drooling at the sight. “damn.” you whisper, moving your hips at a steady pace, moaning gently.

hearing the low groans he made at the grinds made you even wetter and you crawl off his lap slow.

he just watched, and letting you do whatever you want, which you love, you like being in the lead when it comes to sex.

you slide down his pants and lean down, kissing his fully erect dick through his underwear, wonwoo unintentionally bucking his hips up.

you smirk, taking this chance to take his boxers off and back up a little bit at the sight of his dick size. he gives you an uncertain look when he sees you pull away and you giggle at his cute face. “you’re huge wonwoo, what the hell.” you continue to laugh and he looks away while blushing.

you continue with his huge cock, and gripped it at the base. “can i suck on it?” you ask, already knowing the answer but you want to hear him say it out loud.

while you stroke him in your hand he groans, nodding fast. “please, please suck on it.” you smile bright and lean down, wrapping your lips around his tip.

wonwoo let out a cry of pleasure once you start bobbing your head and he grabs your hair in his hand. “that feels amazing,” he moans, throwing his head back.

you blush at his confirmation, gliding your tongue along the side of his dick, making his hips buck again. “[Y/N], that feels so good but i’m going to cum soon if you don’t stop.” wonwoo whimpers, pulling on your hair slightly.

you pull away slowly and lick his tip, tasting his precum before pulling off your underwear quickly, and sitting back on his lap.

the feeling of his cock stretching you out hurt at first but soon began to feel euphoric as you start bouncing on it. “oh fuck.” wonwoo whispers out, kissing on your neck so he didn’t moan too loud.

his moans made you tighten around him with every bounce and he grabs your ass cheeks, slamming up in you.

you put one of his hands around your mouth so you didn’t yell and bounce faster, gripping both of your boobs in your hands. “im about to cum [Y/N]” he moans out, slamming into you once again.

“me too, you can cum in me,” you mumble against his hand, biting on it from pleasure before feeling your release come in seconds.

wonwoo grunts from the biting and his orgasm, shooting a load of cum inside of your pussy. “fuuuuck.” he drags out, still thrusting inside you until the sensitivity made him stop. you get off his lap and kiss his lips softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

he lays the both of you down so you were cuddling, giving each other kisses here and there, laying in silence. “i’m glad it was you.” you whisper, feeling his head look down at you.

“i’m glad you figured it out, happy birthday [Y/N].”

[gurugirl]

Homewrecker | bfd!harry

best friends dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship

Summary: The one where you and Harry finally come clean to everyone. Featuring an angry Fae, a spiteful soon-to-be ex wife, divorce terms, and lots of tears.

Word Count: 7360

Warning: 18+ only, mature content, age gap, talk of divorce, cheating, angst

Best Friend's Dad!harry Masterlist

You were tense.

And it wasn’t just that. It was that you could tell Harry was tense too. He was quiet. It made you nervous. Made you wonder if he was regretting his decision. He was loving when you’d first boarded the plane. But once it landed, he hardly looked at you. You were dropped off at your apartment by a taxi but were surprised when Harry asked the driver to wait. He helped you bring your suitcase up to your door and gave you a quick kiss before telling you he was going to have the taxi drop him off at his house so he could get his car. He told you he’d be back at your place in a couple of hours but he wouldn’t tell you where he was going. You weren’t sure he’d really come back.

You felt sick. You felt terrified you were losing him. But of course, you never deserved him in the first place. He was happily married with a great career and a beautiful daughter with a good head on her shoulders. Life was good for him. And would have been for years to come. If it hadn’t been for you. You were a homewrecker.

You didn’t have the energy to unpack your suitcase so you sat down and took a deep breath as you dared to look through all your messages and listen to the voicemails. You had envisioned checking your messages with Harry by your side, comforting you and you comforting him, but since he wasn’t there you did it alone.

The progression of anger from Fae was easy to see. She first left a voicemail and she sounded more concerned than angry at that point. She was calm.

Then it was a text. And another that could be read as mad. Then the one you read at the airport where you knew without a doubt that she was upset. And then to her last series of text messages sent Saturday morning.

Your silence is telling. So is his. I can’t believe either of you would do this. I hope I’m wrong. I’m hoping this is all a mistake and that it’s a coincidence that you and my dad have gone AWOL at the same time. But if this turns out to be real, Y/n? I don’t think I could ever speak to you or my dad again. I know you’d feel the same if I did this to you.

You sat your phone down and stared at your TV that you hadn’t turned on yet. It was impossible to process what you’d just read. It was shocking. You knew it was coming but to see it in a text was jarring.

It took you a few minutes to lift your phone up and listen to your mother’s voicemail.

Hey honey. I got a call from Fae and she’s really concerned about you and… her dad? She said she needs to get a hold of you. Will you call her when you get this? Or have Harry call her?

And, Y/n, I just want to say too, that no matter what, honey. I love you. You can always reach out to me if you need help or want to talk. Your father and I won’t judge you even if it’s true. I love you. Call me after you call Fae.

Closing your eyes you lay down on your side. Your mother even knew. Fae must have called her and told her everything. It hurt. But it was deserved. You deserved the hurt and shame. You’d done some very bad things. Your mother knowing was the least of your problems. Your biggest problem was that you were a homewrecker. You’d damaged a family because you were selfish.

You hit the call button and put your phone to your ear, keeping your eyes closed.

“Y/n. I was starting to get worried. Are you okay?” Your mother’s words were rushed.

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m so sorry about this. I would have called you sooner but I was trying to avoid my phone for a couple of days.”

“What are you avoiding, Y/n? Is it true? You and Fae’s dad?”

You swallowed thickly, “Yeah. It’s true.”

The line was silent for a moment. You waited to let your mom respond when she was ready. It was a lot to hear. You understood her silence.

“Okay. Well… you know I love you, honey. I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re an adult so you get to make these decisions and I trust that you never meant to hurt anyone.”

“Of course not. I never thought,” you felt a tear slip down your cheek, “… that this would happen. It was never meant to get this far. But,” you pushed yourself up to sit, “I fell in love. And now it’s too late. And we have to face the music. And,” you sniffled as you pulled your phone out to look at the time and then put it back to your ear, “I don’t even know where Harry is right now so it all feels like it’s about to just explode on us–“

“Y/n, do you want me to come over?”

You shook your head, “No. No, that’s okay. I’m sorry. This is just so hard.”

At that moment your front door opened and you stood up to see Harry walking in.

“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay? I love you,” you hung up after your mom told you she loved you too.

You tossed your phone on the couch and stepped toward Harry quietly, unsure of how he was feeling. Unsure of how to approach.

Harry took one long stride toward you and wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. You draped your arms around his middle and just let him squeeze. You were glad he’d come back so soon. You thought he was going to be gone for at least another hour. You also thought it was possible he wouldn’t return.

He loosened his embrace and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t like how it felt to be away from you. I just needed to go and drive. I don’t really know why. I started to panic,” he spoke quietly as you listened, “When I was dropped off at the house I got into my car and the further away I drove the further away from you I felt and I didn’t like that. I had to turn around and drive back to you.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him, “Are you having second thoughts? Do you regret this?”

Harry brought his hands up to your face and looked down at you intently, “God, baby, no. When I got into that taxi I wasn’t even really thinking. I don’t know why I did it that way, leaving like that. I just… I didn’t mean for it to seem like I needed to be away from you. I don’t want that at all.”

You nodded and it felt like relief to hear him say that. “I was worried. Thought you’d suddenly realized this was a big mistake and you couldn’t go through with it anymore.”

He rocked you softly, stepping from foot to foot to sway, “Absolutely not. It’s me and you, baby.”

“We should text them back. Let them know something. Maybe we can go to them? Tell them everything? I just want to get this over with now, Harry.” You couldn’t handle being secretive with Fae or anyone anymore. You knew this was going to happen one way or another and if you could just finally say it then maybe the worst would be over.

He sighed and let go of you, keeping your hands in his, “Okay. We’ll let them decide when it happens. But I’ll text Fae and her mother.”

You both sat in silence on your couch as you individually texted Fae. Harry texted his wife first.

You didn’t know how to word the text. But you settled on something simple.

I’m so sorry. I feel awful. I want to talk to you, though, whenever you’re ready.

Harry’s phone rang after he sent his first text and he looked at you with worry before holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

You watched him stand up and pace in silence as he listened to his wife. He ran a hand through his hair and then suddenly stopped and looked down as he closed his eyes.

“Yes. I understand.”

He looked at you and gave you a weak smile. A sad smile and you returned the expression.

“No. Look… don’t say that. She’s not. I think if we can just talk in person this will be better.”

He shook his head and scowled as he began to pace again, “I said don’t say that about her,” his voice was more urgent. Almost angry.

Your phone dinged. Fae had responded.

I’m coming over.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at Harry. Your natural inclination was to tell him to leave because that had been the routine since the beginning. Hiding that he’d been with you. But now that everything was out in the open…

“Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow then... Yes. I know. I am sorry,” he looked at his screen and realized she’d hung up. “Fuck.” He spoke under his breath.

You stood up and cleared your throat, “Fae is coming over.”

Harry looked weary. He nodded and went into your kitchen and pulled down two glasses, “Water?” He asked without turning to look at you.

“Yes, please.”

You watched him fill the glasses with your water pitcher and then handed you a glass as he gulped down half of his in one go.

“We should think about how to tell her. She’ll be here soon.” You reiterated, keeping your distance. Everything felt so foreign. So strange.

Harry placed his glass down and looked at you for a moment before responding, “We’ll just tell her, Y/n. It’s not going to be good but we’ll be honest and tell her what we’ve done. It’s all we can do,” he pushed his hip from the counter and took your free hand, bringing it up to his chest, “I love you. Okay?”

You nodded, “I love you too, Harry.”

When you sat your glass down Harry bent at his knees and lifted you up to the counter and then fit himself in between your legs, putting his palms over your thighs, “I just need you with me, Y/n. Okay?”

You nodded and put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and pulled them around his neck to bring him in for a soft little kiss.

You two stayed like that until there was a knock at your door and Harry helped you down from your spot. He followed behind you as you pulled your door open to see Fae standing there. She looked behind you to her dad and then back at you. Her expression was unreadable.

“Come in.” You gestured to her and moved out of the doorway. She walked past you and her father and into your living room.

“So, it’s true. What the fuck?” She shook her head and looked between you and Harry.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Harry spoke first. You could hear the small waver in his voice as if he were about to cry, which made you tear up instantly as you watched Fae’s face.

She sat down on the small bench near your records and looked directly at you, “I can’t believe you did this. To me and my mom? To him? Why?”

Oh shit. Here it was. You were being blamed for it all. As you should. You knew what you’d done was disgusting.

You moved to sit down on your couch, pulling your hand out of Harry’s. You needed to sit.

“I can’t believe I did it either. I don’t know why. I’m sorry!” You hiccupped as your tears fell. A pathetic girl. Harry sat next to you and you felt his warm hand on your back as you repeated that you were sorry.

“Mom didn’t deserve this,” Fae looked at her dad, “She’s been so good to us and to you. She was really blindsided by this you know? You hurt her. You cheated on her. I never would have taken you for a cheater.”

Your sniffles and harsh breaths were obnoxious. You didn’t deserve to be feeling sad for yourself. After all, you’d done all the hurting and now people were suffering because of you.

“I know, Fae. Your mother has been wonderful to us. I made a mistake and…” his hand moved up and down your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t expect any of it. It just…” he took a breath, “It just happened and now I’m in love. We’re in love.”

Fae laughed sardonically and you looked at her. She hadn’t shed a single tear.

“Yeah right. Do you know how ridiculous you sound, Dad? In love? With her? She’s my age? What could you possibly have in common with Y/n? Do you two bond over talking about me? Because that’s your only link. Like… I don’t get it at all.”

“We just get along, Fae. Somethings can’t really be explained–“

“Oh, the fuck they can’t. You two had sex and now you think you’re in love. You’re both pathetic. Especially you, Y/n. You broke up a happy marriage because you were selfish and you outright lied to me–“

“Hey, this is my fault, Fae. I’m the one who–“

You put your hand on his knee, “No. Fae’s right. I’m pathetic. I’m a homewrecker. I deserve all of the blame.”

Fae stood up, “Oh the martyr. I see… Yes… Will it make you feel better to know how much I really hate you? Is that what you want? Well,” she laughed, “I’m not giving you that satisfaction. Oh no…” she paced in front of your coffee table as she looked from her father to you, “The part that hurts so much, and the part that I hope you take with you and that eats at you and keeps you up at night is that hating you hurts me. You were my best friend. You and I have done everything together. I trusted you and loved you like you were my sister. When my mom told me what she found out I told her it couldn’t be true. That you would never. I gave you a chance to come clean to me but you lied to my face. I won’t ever forgive you but that doesn’t mean that feels good. It hurts to hate you. You betrayed me.”

You sat in silence. In shame.

Fae pointed at Harry, “And you. You let this happen. Mom is broken. She’s absolutely torn up over this. You blindsided us both and you’re no longer my father.”

“Please, don’t say that Fae, I love you,” Harry stood up.

“Don’t come near me. I don’t want your apologies or your tears. I’m not giving you the chance to make amends or say your peace. I don’t want it,” she scoffed and looked up toward the ceiling to pull her tears back into her eyes. “Mom said this didn’t mean you were abandoning me. That you still love me,” she looked at him and stopped pacing, “I don’t care if you choose her or whatever,” she gestured toward you, “I don’t even want you as my father anymore. You make me sick. What you did is unforgivable. Even if you did leave her and beg me for another chance to be in my life I don’t want it. My life is better without you now that I know who you are.”

Harry sat down and put his head in his hands and began to cry. You could see his shoulders shaking as he let out a strangled sob.

She looked away from Harry and took a breath. You could see she was acting tough. You knew her well. You imagined that the moment she walked out of your apartment she’d finally allow herself to cry.

“You both deserve each other. I hope you have a miserable life together. Actually…” she looked at you, “I take that back. I hope he cheats on you and breaks your heart the way you broke mine. I hope that all this was a waste for both of you. That you don’t even wind up together in the end. Because that’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it?”

Her glower was intense. Scary.

You opened your mouth, “Fae, I’m–“

“I don’t fucking want to hear it, Y/n. I just wanted to come over here so I could tell you in person how I feel about you,” she laughed and looked at Harry who was still trying to reign in his tears, “I actually didn’t think you’d be here. But I guess this makes it easier. So I only have to do this once.”

She picked up her purse and carried herself quickly to your door but you ran after her just as she stepped outside, “Fae, please! I never wanted to hurt anyone!”

She turned to look at you, tears glazing her eyes, “I know you didn’t. But you did anyway, and it was selfish. Just wait for your turn. He’ll find someone younger in a few years and you’ll be all alone.”

When she walked away you felt Harry’s hand on your shoulder and then his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you into him. You both watched until Fae was out of sight and wondered if that would be it. Wondered if she’d ever come around or if maybe she was right.

He was warm against you. Comforting. “Baby you know she’s just speaking out of anger because she’s hurt. I’m not leaving you. That’s never gonna happen.”

You swallowed and nodded as he spoke quietly into your ear. Surely she was speaking out of anger to hurt you because she was hurt. You could see that. And that was deserved. You should hurt. But part of what she said did strike something in you. Because he’d left his own wife for you. For someone younger. And he probably never imagined he’d cheat on his wife just like at that moment you figured he never imagined he’d leave you either.

“You believe me, right, Y/n?”

You nodded shallowly.

Harry let out a deep breath as he pulled you gently back inside your apartment and turned you to face himself. His eyes were red and his face was splotchy from crying, “Look at me,” he cupped your face softly, “I’m mad for you. I swear on everything,” he ran his thumb under your right eye where a new tear fell, “I’ll never leave you. I love you. This is different, Y/n. God, I never want you to feel that way.”

It wasn’t like you wanted to leave him so you wouldn’t and if he broke your heart eventually, well you also deserved that. Especially after everything you’d done to Fae and her mother…

Harry’s nose touched yours, “Please, Y/n. I can tell you’re upset about what she said. I need to know you trust me and that we’re okay.”

You lifted your arms to wrap around his middle and looked at him, “Whatever happens I’m not going anywhere. I just…” you blinked and grasped the material of his shirt tight, “I fucked up big time. We did. I wasn’t prepared to hear her say any of that. I knew she’d be upset. I feel like this is what I deserve. None of this is okay.”

Harry cradled the back of your head and pressed his forehead into yours gently, “I fucked up, Y/n. I did that. I know what’s been done isn’t good… but you and I can be okay. Being with you is like nothing I’ve ever had. I’ll do everything I can to prove to you how much I love you and how much I want you every day if you need it.”

You tilted your head back and moved to kiss him, pushing your lips against his. You didn’t want him feeling like he’d lost you too. You just needed to sort out your thoughts and it was hard to verbalize everything in that moment.

Harry and Fae’s mother had planned to meet at their house in the morning. He was already making a list of things he’d be packing and bringing to your apartment, knowing she’d be taking the house, “Are you sure it’s okay if I bring all this? I can get a storage unit or something.”

You stood behind him and looked down at his laptop screen. He was sitting at your small kitchen table as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “It’s fine, Harry. We’ll figure out everything later. We should get some sleep. It’ll be an early morning and we want to go in with clear minds.” Harry turned to look at you as he placed a hand over your forearm, “Baby, I really think it should just be me there. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

You moved and pulled a chair up next to him so you could look at him directly, “I really think I should be there with you. At least for support, Harry. I’m an adult. I can handle it. I don’t want you having to do it alone.”

He shook his head and took your hands in his, “Y/n, it’s going to go a whole lot better if you’re not there. She’s not going to want to see you. That’ll just make her angrier. I’m asking you to please stay here while I sort out everything with her.”

Harry had told you right at the beginning that he was going but you insisted you wanted to be there too. To face his wife and be his support.

“Harry…” you said his name in a plea.

He dipped in and kissed you, “I love you so much. But I need to do this part by myself. Okay? I love that you want to help and be there with me and you don’t know how much that means to me. But this is different. I can’t bring you with me for this. You can be my comfort and support when I get back afterward.”

You figured you didn’t have much of a choice. But you hated to have Harry go it alone. If you thought dealing with Fae was devastating, you couldn’t imagine the scene with her mother. The woman whose heart he broke. Who he cheated on.

Harry held you close that night as you softly caressed his chest and kissed his shoulders and pecs. Sleep didn’t really find either of you for long enough to feel like you’d rested. You had bursts of shut-eye but then were woken up with a panicky feeling. And it was the same for Harry. But being together and feeling the warmth of one another felt a lot better than waking up alone.

And you both were wide awake at 5 am, cuddled together under your blankets, limbs tangled.

“Are you awake?” You whispered as softly as possible. You assumed he was because of his breathing pattern and the way he shifted every now and then.

“I am. Are you okay, baby?” He scooted in closer and pulled you into his chest so you were practically laying on him.

You couldn’t see his face in the dark but you smiled at how he always seemed to need you close.

“I’m okay. I’m here with you so I’m okay.” You laid your head against his chest and he cradled the back of your head. You could feel the slow rhythm of his heart.

“Want some coffee? Thinking of getting up to make some. Not sure I can sleep. Have to be up in an hour anyway.”

Coffee at 5:15 am was not your thing but for Harry, you’d do it. And it was also going to be impossible for you to sleep as well. You were full of nerves and wondering what was next.

You had to work that afternoon, unfortunately. You wanted to call off but you were worried about losing your job. You took Saturday off when you were scheduled to work and doing it again on Monday would be risking too much.

“So what? If you lose your job you can look for something else. Maybe there’s a good job in advertising or marketing or something. Use your degree, Y/n. I can take care of you until you find something.”

You shook your head, “You don’t think I’ve been looking? For a year I’ve been putting in resumes and the only few spots that would even consider me without any experience wouldn’t pay as well as the tips I make at the restaurant. It’s hard to transition from making really good tips to a salaried job that pays less where I might work more hours.”

“I know you’ve been looking, baby. I’m not saying you haven’t. I’m just saying I’ll take care of you until you find something perfect.”

“I don’t want to have you taking care of me, though. That’s not fair. We’ve already been through a lot. And just imagine what everyone would think… If I quit my job after everyone finds out we’ve been having an affair and you pay all my bills... I’ll not only be a homewrecker I’ll be a gold digger or something. One awful scorn on me is quite enough,” you chuckled. But it wasn’t actually funny. You tried to find humor in the situation but the reality of it was awful.

“We can’t help what people will think of us but we’ll talk about all this later. I don’t want you to worry. Okay?”

“You think you’ll be back before I need to leave for work?” You ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. It was getting long and his curls were just begging to be touched.

Harry nodded, “I think so. I hope so. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you when you get off. I’ve got some stuff to do at the office today as well but shouldn’t take long. And I’ve got your key,” he grinned at you.

Harry left after giving you a smoldering kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since the morning before when you left Quebec and when he grabbed you and spun you around to kiss you goodbye you pulled him in by his collar to keep his mouth against yours, then he had his arms around your back and you both had to force yourselves apart so he could go.

And on any normal day, you’d climb back into bed to sleep for a few more hours. But you knew you couldn’t sleep. So, you had to find something to keep you occupied while Harry told his wife everything.

.           .           .

When Harry pulled into the driveway his wife’s car was there already. He took a few deep breaths. He knew it was not going to be pretty.

The house smelled of coffee when he opened the door. It almost felt comforting. Familiar. Except that the circumstances were anything but.

He called to his wife as he sat his briefcase down on the couch and moved into the kitchen where he found her on her cell phone speaking to someone. She glanced at him and turned her back.

Harry noticed right away that she looked sad. Her face was puffy and her skin looked sallow.

The pot of coffee was full but he couldn’t even think of putting anything else into his stomach at that moment. The acid in the coffee was already making him feel a bit unwell. Not just the acid. But he felt unwell for what was about to come.

He sat at the kitchen table and silently inhaled again.

“Well, he’s here now, so I’ll let you go. I’ll call you later, okay?” He heard only the last part of her conversation as she hung up and kept her back to him. He watched her look out the window over the sink into their backyard in silence.

“I think you should start, Harry. Start with how long you’ve been seeing her. How it happened,” she turned to look at him but stayed near the counter.

He nodded and looked down at his hands, “6 months, give or take.” He looked up at her and her fierce gaze could have sliced him in half.

She waved her hand, “Go on. Let’s get it out.”

He swallowed, “I don’t know why I did it. I was happy. Really, I was. I… she and I got close and then I went to her place and that’s how it started.”

“So you instigated?”

Nodding his head he looked at his wife, “I did. I knew she had a crush on me and I fed into it.”

She nodded and walked toward him to sit at the table across from him.

“And it wasn’t supposed to go that far. But I’ve found myself falling for her.”

The laugh from his wife was unexpected. Harry watched as she shook her head in disbelief, “You’ve fallen for her? Y/n? Who is the same age as your daughter? Oh, I bet that’s an interesting dynamic. Does she know you fucked me while you were fucking her?”

He clenched his jaw and felt like he’d throw up, “We didn’t really talk about that much at the beginning. I’m sure she knows.”

“Caressa told me she saw you drop her off. Y/n, the stupid thing, told her you were her boyfriend.”

“Hey. Stop. Don’t do that. Don’t call her stupid. She’s no–“

“What? You don’t like it when women are being a little immature? You are dating a woman half your age for Christ’s sake. Seems like something you’d be into.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth to keep himself quiet. He’d have to deal with her being a little petty. She had every right to lash out.

“Anyway, I was quite shocked to learn of it. And at first, we thought there was no way. Caressa might have seen someone else that looked like you with a car like yours. But then… too many coincidences, you know? Plus I’d already suspected you were cheating.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why? Why would you do this to us? Was it that bad?”

Harry shook his head and reached for his wife’s hand but she pulled away before he could touch her, “No. Of course not. You’ve been incredible. I got selfish and fucked up. And then I got in too deep.” He moved his hand back into his lap.

She nodded, “You did fuck up. That’s true. How many other women have you cheated on me with?”

Harry was taken aback, “None! Oh my god, no. I never… this is the only time.”

“I see. And of all people, it had to be her? Fae’s best friend, Harry?”

“I know. It’s so messy.”

“Have you had a thing for her since she was a teenager?”

He shook his head, “No. Fae’s 22nd birthday was the first time I really found her attractive.”

She looked to the corner of the room as she sipped her coffee and then pinned her eyes back on Harry, “So for 2 1/2, nearly 3 years you’ve been lusting after Fae’s best friend?”

“No. I found her attractive… but never…” he took a breath, “No it was only recent.”

That was a lie. He had actually been lusting after you for that length of time. Of course, the feelings grew as you got closer and spent time together alone. When you would visit him and you’d chat and have lengthy hugs in private… even though the actual affair had only been for 6 months, you both had been dancing around your feelings for much longer. But he didn’t want his wife to know that. Didn’t feel that was necessary information.

“My terms for the divorce are simple. I’ll keep the house but you’ll pay the mortgage and insurance, and repairs that might come up. Once the house is paid off it’ll be in my name and I’ll be able to sell it or keep it, my choice. I’ll keep my car, which you’ll also pay the insurance for, and I’ll be asking for 50% of your salary as alimony. I also expect 50% of any of your bonuses. You’ll pay for my health insurance and cover anything I need above the copay. Dental too,” she took another sip of her coffee as she kept her eyes on Harry, “You’ll cover my cellphone, internet… basically all of my bills like you do currently. I am not going to suffer and live a more difficult lifestyle because you and Y/n want to fuck around and play pretend. Understood?”

Harry nodded. He knew he’d be giving a lot to his wife.

“Our shared brokerage, savings, and retirement will be 100% mine–“

Harry put his hand up, “Now, wait. Hold on. I can give you most of it but not all. Come on. Be reasonable.”

She shook her head, “The moment you stuck your prick in someone else was the moment I lost my ability to be reasonable with you. It’s mine. And I guarantee that the judge will agree once we get to the nitty-gritty. I’ve looked into it. You’ve cheated on me and I’ve been a supportive wife who also contributed to our savings and retirement during all the years I worked.”

His brokerage account was worth millions. And while his wife had contributed to savings and retirement years ago when she was still working, all the money and earnings from the brokerage were his own. He put that money there, not her.

“I don’t think that’s fair. You didn’t put a dime into the brokerage account. I’ll give you all of our savings, half the retirement, and half of the brokerage. That’s more than enough for you for the rest of your life. Not to mention half my salary and bonuses, the house…”

“I don’t care what’s fair. And yeah, I could live a very comfortable life on half the brokerage and retirement alone but I don’t want you to live a comfortable life, see? I’m not here to make things comfortable for anyone but me and my daughter. You and Y/n can go to hell.”

Harry bit his tongue and looked down at the table. He would need to get a lawyer. 50% of everything plus extras was fine. But all of the brokerage and retirement?

“Well, we’ll figure out terms with lawyers present,” he looked at her as he spoke. It was the first time he’d felt so angry with her ever. And even if she was justified, it still felt unfair.

She laughed, “Yes, we will. In fact, I’m meeting with mine this afternoon to get all the paperwork ready for you to sign. Divorce papers are in the works. And since I’m the one filing first I get dibs. You’ll see.”

Harry stood up from the table and paced the kitchen slowly. He knew this would kill him financially but he somehow just didn’t expect she’d want all of his brokerage. That was his nest egg he’d been adding to since before he ever met his wife. It was his. He’d fight for that one.

“What time this afternoon?” He looked at her.

“2 pm. You aren’t invited. You’ll be all caught up with everything once we get the paperwork drafted. My lawyer will send everything to yours. Oh, which, by the way, you should send me your lawyer’s contact info.”

He didn’t have a lawyer at that moment, which in hindsight was dumb of him. He should have been more prepared for all of this. A lawyer was just more money down the drain. He’d be paying his own plus hers, he was sure of it.

“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath and ran his hands over his face.

Harry packed his things into his car and gathered items he planned to take with him. Of course, his wife watched everything he took and told him what he could and couldn’t take.

“But this was a gift from Fae. Let me at least have this,” he pleaded. It was a framed photo of Fae and Harry. The frame was homemade from Fae for Father’s Day when she was 11. He kept it in his office for all the years he had it.

“Fae doesn’t want you to have that. Leave it here.”

“You didn’t even know it was there. You probably forgot that it even existed. Come on, don’t do this.”

She didn’t budge.

Harry had expected the conversation with his wife to be much different. He thought there would be a lot of tears and apologies and that she would scream at him and throw a fit but she was calm and prepared. She was cold and uncaring, though she did throw an insult or two. He could tell she was upset and that she had been crying before he arrived but she did not act the way he thought she would.

It all took much longer than he hoped. You had already been at work by the time he dropped his things off at your apartment. His apartment now too. He told you he’d be paying his part and wanted to get on the lease. But he planned on paying the rent in full. He didn’t want to be a burden to you.

And before he went by his office at work he stopped at the restaurant to see you. He knew it might be a bad idea but he needed to see you. Just to look at you and tell you he loved you and make sure you were okay. He felt bad that he hadn’t come back before you’d left.

Caressa saw him first as he walked in and the hostess greeted him.

“Oh, Harry. How nice to see you,” she crossed her arms as she walked up to him, “I’m guessing you’re here to see your girlfriend?”

“Hi, Caressa. Uh, just here to see Y/n. I wanted to tell her something really quick. I won’t keep her long.” He felt himself flush in embarrassment. He wasn’t particularly close to Caressa but he’d known her for years. She and her husband were part of his friend group. Were. He was certain they wouldn’t be interested in hanging out with him again.

“Sure. She’s busy right now but have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

He waited for fifteen minutes before getting up and peeking into the dining room. He half doubted that Caressa told you he was there. She probably wanted to make a point or something.

When he spotted you walking away from a table he stepped in and called your name quietly.

You turned and your eyes widened in surprise but you smiled and mouthed “I’ll be right back.”

You hadn’t expected to see him show up at your work but the relief that washed over you was immense. You were so worried about Harry and wondered how the talk had gone with Fae’s mother. Hoped nothing had changed between you and him.

You quickly made your way to the front where Harry was and grabbed his hand into yours, “How did it go?”

He sighed and you could see it hadn’t been a good conversation just by his expression, “I’ll tell you later. But, she knows. Everyone knows now. She’s getting divorce paperwork ready,” he squeezed your hand, “I just wanted to see your face. Needed to see you.”

You smiled and quickly kissed his lips, “I’m glad you came in. I was really worried.”

“You don’t need to worry, baby. Ever. Okay? I love you. I just… couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”

That was all you needed. His reassurance. The rest of your shift felt lighter. You were still burdened by the reality and the heaviness of everything but at least he came to see you. At least he needed it as much as you did.

When you got home later Harry was there. He was only wearing his grey sweatpants and he was in the kitchen cooking something.

You placed your purse on the kitchen table and he turned around and sat the wooden spoon on the counter before he met you in the middle of the kitchen to bring you in for a hug.

He said nothing. He just held you for a moment and it felt regenerative to be in his arms. You melted a tiny bit into him and suddenly, without even meaning for it to happen you began to cry.

“Oh, honey…” he whispered as he pulled you into your living room to your couch. You sat down with him and he kept his arms around you.

You couldn’t stop the tears. You couldn’t really think much about your situation while you were at work or you’d have cried in front of your customers. And you definitely didn’t want Caressa to see you in tears. She knew too much already.

“Sorry,” you squeaked out your words against Harry’s chest. You loved that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and that your cheek was smushed into his skin.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay to cry. I’m here.”

Harry kissed the top of your head and spoke quietly, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

When you’d finally caught your breath and looked up at him, he smiled softly at your face with tear-stained cheeks, “Thank you for stopping in at work today. That made everything feel so much better.”

Harry took in your red puffy eyes and the way your lip quivered the slightest and sighed as he wiped your tears, “I needed to see you. I’m glad it made you feel better. How was your shift?”

You told him about work and how Caressa hardly spoke to you. Then you discovered that when Harry arrived she hadn’t told you that he was there when he asked her to, “Guess I’m not surprised. She probably hates us both. And what are you making? Smells really good.”

“Just veggie soup and I’ve got some biscuits cooling. Stove’s off so it can sit a bit. It’ll be fine.”

You looked around your living room and it was the first time you noticed the new big-screen TV that had replaced yours, as well as a plant in the corner that hadn’t been there, “So now we live together, huh?” You smiled finally, to Harry’s relief.

“If you still want me here then yes.”

You laughed and leaned back into him, hugging his middle, “Of course I want you here. Need you here.”

Harry put his arms around you, “S’what I wanted to hear. Need to be with you. No matter what that looks like.”

You looked up at him and his curls that were starting to get long and the bit of scruff on his face with his bright eyes and pink lips and you felt like you were lucky to have him. It wasn’t going to be easy to not have Fae in your life. And you would have to deal with the judgment that was to come, but at least you had him. At least you had each other.

“What?” Harry asked as your eyes wandered over his features.

“I just feel grateful that you’re here with me.”

Harry tilted his head to the side as he rubbed your arms up and down, his eyes on yours, “I’m grateful you want me here, Y/n.”

As shitty as everything was and the awful reality that was caging you in and carving the words homewrecker onto your forehead, you felt it in your heart that he was the love of your life. No one else could ever understand it. But Harry did. And you did. And that was all that mattered in that moment.

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[venus-vault]

Friend of the Family

Mr.Reed × Fem!Reader(Mid-20s) [18+]

Synopsis: Part 1 - (y/n)'s boring family Christmas vacation to Colorado doesn't exactly go as anticipated...

⚠️TW: Boring Family Dynamic, Age Gap, Alcohol Consumption (all parties of age), Oral Sex (Male & Female Recipients), Raw P in V Penetration, Breif Mutual Masturbation, General Smut. ❄️

"So do I even *actually* know this guy?" I interrogate, unsure why we're staying there instead of some mountainside Airbnb. "Of course! (y/n), you've met Mr. Reed plenty of times, you were just, y'know...smaller." Dad explains, cheery. "Okay... but when you said 'Colorado Christmas Vacation' I thought we'd be like... snowboarding, or hanging out in a cute mountain town, or at least renting a cool cabin in Telluride... not like... the middle of nowhere part of Boulder with some guy I haven't seen since I was a kid..."

He sighs, defeated by my expectations yet again. "Listen. He's my best friend, a few years back he lost his wife, and its true, I haven't gotten around to seeing him in person since you were four, Bug."

He drones on,

"He's a really nice guy, and super cool. He loves that Lana Del Rey girl you're always talking about, and he's got a really nice collection of records and books, its like a mini Barnes & Noble in there! You might find you have more in common than you think!" He offers.

And I decline : "With a 64-year-old retired engineer from England? Yeah thanks, I'll pass. I'm just gonna stay out of the way, keep my headphones on, and let you two reconnect."

I pull out my phone, pop in my earpods, and open Tumblr, pretending to care at all about the latest posts on the Spencer Reid tag. Out of the corner of my eye I can tell I've hurt his feelings, but fathers never say the right thing, and he can withstand a little sting every once in a while. It's what he deserves for not telling me where we were staying til halfway through the plane ride.

Our plane finally touches down, we funnel through Boulder Municipal into a cab and I won't be the first one to speak. I take one earpod out just in case, which Dad takes as an invitation. "Just got a text from Mr. Reed, and I hope you're hungry Bug, because there. will. be. pie." He beams as though this is some great revelation, elaborating "He's got this wild recipe with earl grey in the crust and lemon zest in the filling, it's award-winning. Seriously! He enters it in the local contest every other year and it's only lost once!"

Despite how riveting my father finds Mr. Reed and his Great British baking exploits, I do not, and apparently it shows as his smile tamps down to a simper. "Sweetie, I'm really trying here. I can't convince you it's gonna be the best Christmas ever, hey, we'll probably both have altitude sickness the entire time, but let's just make an attempt, okay? Nothing has to be perfect." He's an idiot but he's right and I agree. "Okay, yeah. I'll be nice." I sigh "That pie does sound pretty good, I guess..."

The cab rolls through the city of Boulder as Lana lilts gently in my earpods about 'haaa-aa-ow toooo disappear~' and maybe this trip won't be so bad after all.

We're finally dropped at the gate to Mr. Reed's house and -you're fucking kidding me- his driveway, long and winding, is gravel. I wince inwardly at the realization that I'll have to lug two wheeled suitcases up that path and flash Dad a fake 'I'm so glad We're doing this' smile before yanking them out of the trunk and making my way up to the stoop. This pie better be incredible.

Once Dad and I are situated on the stoop, out of breath and travel-weary, I assault Mr. Reed's doorbell. It's cold and I need a shower.

ding. .... nothing. ding-ding. nope. dingdingdingdingdingdingdingding-

The door opens, finally, and a sweet-looking older man in a well composed cardigan-button down combo and jeans steps out to greet us, smiling bright as his eyes fall on Dad.

"Jonathan!!"

"Reed!!"

Laughter ensues as I observe their embrace, holding back a heavy eyeroll. Somehow I am already third-wheeling.

"Oh my god, Mr. Reed, you remember (y/n)? She's just finished a semester at Oxford!" Dad smirks, gesturing to me and I give a shy wave as Mr. Reed's eyes scan over me, widening in surprise.

"(y/n)? As in, little (y/n), (y/n) who was- ?" He holds his hand flat, bringing it down by his knee as he looks between me and dad in disbelief.

"The very same, can you believe it?"

I purse my mouth into a smile, just completely overwhelmed by how awkward this interaction is.

"Well look at you! You've certainly grown up, haven't you?"

"I suppose so!" my best fake laugh.

Mr. Reed's eyes trace my form again and he pulls me into a quick side hug. He's warm and smells like lemon zest, vanilla extract.

"Let's get you two in then, supposed to be a blizzard tonight."

He grabs one of my suitcases and we follow him as he shuffles back inside.

His house is simple and a little cramped, but I do smell pie. 'Bless This Mess' reads a framed piece of embroidery on the wall, and if there is a God, I hope he does.

We toss our bags into our respective guest rooms at the top of the stairs and I finally get to take my shower before making a way back downstairs to the dining room.

We sit through a meal -shepherd's pie, what is it with this guy and pie?- and my dad and Mr. Reed discuss people they both know who died or lived or have moved or haven't moved and I am in hell until-

"Little after dinner drink then?"

My eyes snap up from my plate to meet his, a small smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. His eyes crinkle at the ends when he smiles, warm and comforting and it occurs to me for the first time that Mr. Reed is...handsome... If he were 20 years younger he'd definitely be my type, in fact...

"Alright! So that's one, me makes two, Jonathan, little shiraz with your pie?"

"Well how could I say no to such a generous offer?" Dad beams.

We move back into the living room and sip and I pick at the pie. It is good and after a glass and a half of shiraz Mr. Reed looks just as appetizing, but I decide I'm not going to eye-fuck this old man in front of my father, or at least not in an obvious way.

So I sit, tepid, on my phone and pretend not to be bothered by the lack of service while I half listen to their conversation, looking up strategically to ogle Mr. Reed every now and then. His eyes find mine and I watch him nibble at his lip and does he know?

"So then (y/n), Oxford, hm?"

"Uhm, yeah, I'm in their creative writing MFA program right now... its... interesting."

"Interesting boring or interesting incredible?" He crosses one leg over the other and leans in, attentive.

"Uh, I mean it's going well, people in my classes are a little...er.. pretentious..?" I giggle, nervous.

"Exactly as I remember it, then!" He laughs loudly, and dad joins in, snickering along. His laughter is infectious and this wine is making me blush and I smile.

"You're an alum?"

"What, the accent didn't give it away?" A chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, I was lucky enough to take about an eon of courses in engineering sciences there, immigrate in the 90s, build this place, blah blah blah, but enough on me, it seems we may just be in the midst of the next great American novelist, eh Jonathan?" A wink.

"I don't know about that," I tear my eyes away from him, focusing in on the details of a floorboard.

"Oh (y/n) don't be modest, Reed you'd love her stuff, she's got some of the most well-metered prose, and-"

"Dad." I warn, eyes wide with embarrassment.

"Oop, sorry bug," He cringes "Didn't mean to dad-out on ya."

"I'd love to read some of your writing sometime, granted you'd be comfortable enough to share." Mr. Reed interjects.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. Sometime..."

"Can I top you up?"

"Sure." He fills my glass just to the midpoint and does the same for himself.

"Jonathan?" He smirks playfully at dad.

"Ah, I dunno, I should probably be getting some shut-eye actually."

"Aw come on,"

"No, no, these days if im up past 10 with a drink in hand I'll be totally useless the next 24 hours." He stands, patting my shoulder. "Night, y'all. Don't have too much fun without me!" And there go the finger guns so now it's my turn to cringe.

He finally leaves the room and I'm alone with Mr. Reed. There's a heavy silence in the air and I take a small sip of my drink.

"So, (y/n), big on Lana Del Rey I hear?" He smirks.

"One of my favorites." I breathe, forcing a smile.

"Norman Fucking Rockwell or Blue Banisters?"

"NFR."

His eyebrows raise "it's okay to be wrong."

"But I'm not."

"Lust for Life or Born To Die; Paradise Edition?"

"... you ask hard questions, Mr. Reed."

"And you... answer them."

"And if I give you another 'wrong' answer?"

"Why would it matter? Are you trying to impress me?"

"...Paradise." I squint at him.

"Mm, see? We agree on something."

I'm powerless to the smile that forms on my face.

"Yeah?"

He lets out a low laugh. "Yeah,"

"What drew you to her, originally I mean?" He looks me over.

"Well, like a lot of young women I do have the obligatory depression diagnosis and Tumblr account combo, and things spiraled out from there I guess..."

"Ah, and here I thought it was just your ill-suited attraction to old men!" He lets out a warm chuckle at his own joke and I must've misheard him.

"What?" I shift a bit in my place on the couch, called out.

He scoffs. "Come on, (y/n). Let's not play this game. You've been eyeing me up since dinner, sitting there and sipping your drink and sucking berries off your fork in the most salacious way, letting your gaze linger, innocent and doe-eyed yet so apathetic to it all," he rolls his eyes like he might be as well, "when in reality, it seems, correct me if I go wrong, but you've been looking at me all night like you want me to touch you. Is that accurate or am I projecting a fantasy?"

The tip of his tongue trails his lip, my gaze following its path and I'm warm. His eyes search mine, that was supposed to be a question.

"Uhm... no that... that sounds...accurate..." I admit almost silently, eyes boring into the floor as I sheepishly take another sip of my wine.

"Hm. I see. And in front of your father too...tsk, naughty girl. Lucky for you the man's terrible at reading body language or subtext of any variant,"

Mr. Reed rises from his chair across the coffee table and plants himself on the edge of the sofa next to me. "I, however, do not have that problem." I look up at him and his eyes are two blue marbles behind those wireframed glasses, his cheshire smirk enough to melt me, it's overwhelming.

My face grows hot and my body tight as he delicately removes the wineglass from my hand, sets it down on the coffee table, and leans down to kiss me.

He's tender and gentle and his lips are soft, his tongue stained with blueberry filling as it finds mine, and he strokes my cheek. I place a shaky hand on his knee and one of his covers it as he presses his forehead to mine, breaking the spell. "Are you certain this is something you want, (y/n)? I wouldn't want to impose-" I cut him off with another, more assertive kiss because I need this.

The holidays are stressful and I'm horny and he's here. Fuck it.

As we continue making out, Mr. Reed scoots onto the couch beside me and I find his zipper. His dick jumps to meet my hand through the fabric as one of his hands slips under my sweater and he moans at the softness of my breast.

I pull away to unzip his pants and stroke him a couple times before moving to kneel between his legs. I look up to him, reverent, then back down to his cock, throbbing in hand. Giving him a few steady strokes, I lean forward, parting my lips.

"Can I?" I blink.

He nods eagerly, transfixed.

I take as much of him into my mouth as I can and swallow as his tip hits the back of my throat.

I hear him suck in a breath and his hands find my hair as I start to bob my head over the length of him, holding his balls with one hand and methodically stroking his base with the other. His breath catches, ragged and I feel him spasm in my mouth. I need him. I finally come up for air with a gasp and wipe a tendril of spit off my lower lip as I look up at him. "Mr. Reed, I want to fuck you," I breathe.

"Well all you had to do was ask," he sighs and I pull myself up off the floor, undoing my jeans and tugging them off my legs as quickly as I can before tearing off my sweater and within seconds I'm standing before him in just my panties and bralette. His eyes trail over me. His teeth sink into his lower lip as a hand wraps around his dick and I place a knee on either side of his legs, straddling him. Fair is fair and my fingers slip under the hem of my panties so I can work myself for him as he takes me in.

"How do you want me?"

"Turn around."

I follow his blunt instruction and as I do his fingers hook into either side of my panties, pulling the dampened fabric down my legs.

"Now, you're going to squat down for me... slowly."

I do as I'm told and he guides my hips, lining himself up with my center. Mr. Reed rests his hands on the tops of my thighs, pushing me further down into his lap and I gasp as I feel him begin to penetrate me. I knew it was big, I mean, he could barely fit in my mouth, but christ. I swivel my hips in an attempt to adjust to him, and hear him draw in a breath.

"(y/n), I want you to bounce for me, and you. will. not. make. a sound. understood?"

"Y-yes Mr. Reed."

I start to raise and lower myself slowly on him and gasp sharply as I feel myself tense. He holds me steady by my biceps and guides me up and down.

"Good, that's- ohh that is good, just keep going... mm, mhm, just. like. that. you. Are. Brilliant..." he murmurs, squeezing my ass and I bite back a moan

"Shhhh-shh..."

"Ssorry Mr. Reed," I manage quietly.

He continues to guide my movements, faster now, and I watch his head tip against the back of the couch. His cock twitches inside me and gasp sharply.

"(y/n), stand for me?" And I do.

He turns me around by my hips and I blink down at Mr. Reed and he's panting, glasses perched on top of his head, looking me over hungrily.

"Lay back on the couch here, pet."

He sets a pillow down for me to rest my head on and I do as he says, watching him part my legs, settling between them as he presses gentle kisses up my inner thighs, staring intently into my eyes as he does.

He hovers over my core and I gasp at the warmth of his breath. I watch Mr. Reed's eyes close for a moment as he inhales the scent of my sex and smirks to himself.

"Does your pussy taste like Pepsi Cola then, (y/n)?" He lets out a low chuckle at his own corny little quip, bringing his mouth closer "Shall we find out?"

He pins my thighs open and slowly licks a wide stripe up my vulva from entrance to clit. I can't hold back the whimper that slips from me at the heat of his tongue, and it's even harder to silence msyelf when he dips two fingers into me, curling the pads of his fingertips just slightly as he steadily works me, his tongue moving in a synced rythym against my clit.

The sensation is almost too much and I gasp as I feel myself spasm a couple times around his fingers. He hums into me and the vibration sends a shudder through my body. He tilts his head up, panting as he continues fingering me, and my hips arch up to meet his hand.

He removes his fingers, pressing them against the plush of my lower lip and into my mouth. I suck and lick impatiently, and before long his mouth is on mine again as I feel his cock slip back into me. I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips as he begins to slowly rock his hips into mine.

"Mister Reed?" I breathe

"Mm?"

"It's... you're just...so big...." He smirks.

"Oh, I'm aware dear." He picks up his pace some "You're taking me so well, though..." he presses a kiss into the side of my neck and I gasp.

"Being so good for me..."

A loud creak interrupts us from overhead and Mr. Reed stops moving, eyes glued upwards as he clamps his hand over my mouth.

Heavy footsteps make the floorboards groan above us as he slowly starts to fuck me again and I take in a sharp breath through my nostrils, looking up at him, panicked.

"Shhh, shh-" another low creak.

Mr. Reed quickens his thrusts and I involuntarily whine against his hand which finds it's way to my neck instantly, holding firm.

"I said. Be quiet." He whispers sternly.

I bite my lip in an effort not to cry out, nodding and I begin to feel that familiar tension coiling inside as he bucks into me, my mind going totally blank at the way his hand feels wrapped around my throat.

The footsteps and floorboards finally stop, his grip on my neck releases some, and a warm haze overtakes my body as he continues to forcefully piston into me. I feel myself starting to tense up and struggle for breath as I unwind completely under him.

Seconds later, Mr. Reed lets out a low groan and I feel his orgasm pulse out acutely within me as I weather my own.

We lay there for a few minutes and as we come down together, the weight of our indiscretion settles in some.

I've just fucked my dad's best friend. Three days before Christmas. And I liked it. A lot.

"Needed.. that..." I huff.

"I could tell," he chortles.

Mr. Reed slips out of me, grabbing one of the discarded linen napkins from the coffee table to clean himself off with, before gently tucking it between my legs.

"Oh, and... it does, by the way."

Part 2❄️

[bluesidez]

Firefighter!Miguel Part 3

content warning: fluff, some mentions of Christianity because a lot of southern grandmothers are Christian (it shouldn't be anything that makes non-Christians uncomfy)

word count: 1.5k, not proofread

Prev | Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Firefighter!Miguel who listens with a skeptical face as the trio of teenagers in front of him explain how their car ended up upside down in a lake.

“We saw a squirrel and we couldn’t just hit it, that’s inhumane!”

“So, you roll your car down a ramp instead?”

The trio stare at him with building panic.

“There’s not a single scratch or bruise on any of you.”

It takes about ten seconds of empty space before one of them crumbles to the ground in faux pain.

“I-I can still feel the sunroof on my head!”

“And you’re grabbing your stomach to show that."

The three of them stared at each other for a second, then one of them starts to cry, "We didn't mean it!"

"We're sorry!"

"I told them to just drive over a bump, they didn't listen!"

They started to crowd Miguel, each telling a different story. Miguel didn't believe a single one of them but their dedication to this bit was admirable.

"Ok. Let's get your parents on the phone," Miguel's voice demanded attention. "The totaled car is enough of a lesson, but I'm sure none of your names are on this vehicle."

The boy in the middle curses and runs his hand through his hair, "My dad's going to kill me."

"I would hope they'd be more happy that you're alive," Jess came up next to Miguel with a helmet under her arm. Her slicked-back hair has started to frizz up from the sheer amount of work it took to get a car full of water back on the ground. "If you all didn't think fast enough, there's no guarantee that we would have made it here in time to rescue you."

Firefighter!Miguel who tried his best to calm down the worried parents.

Yes, their children were ok. No, no one was hurt. Yes, with the right insurance totaled cars can be covered. No, he's not sure how the car ended up upside down. Yes, firefighters do these rescues regularly.

No, he was not giving out his number.

"What did I say about that face?" Jess sang as she sat in the passenger seat of the truck.

"Just because you say it, doesn't mean I want it to happen."

"Maybe you should get a ring. That poor mother looked so hurt when you rejected her."

"A ring doesn't stop wandering eyes or hands," Miguel gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Jess sighs, "True. That's not stopping you from staring at your phone like a sad seal while we're waiting on calls."

Miguel tried his best not to let his shoulders slump. He was a captain, not one of those reckless teenagers, "You think I did something wrong? It's been a few days."

"Maybe they think you're busy? Maybe they're nervous. Maybe they're busy. I'm sure you'll get a text soon."

Firefighter!Miguel who jolts from his sleepy daze at every notification from his phone. The 24-hour shifts can be grueling.

One glance at his phone showed some magazine emails and the reminder of a show he was excited to see.

Firefighter!Miguel who finally gets your text message on the way to his car.

You wanted to take him up on the offer of stopping by your house to check out the gas line.

His sleepy state gained a new jolt of energy and he was able to utilize it to tap along to the radio all the way home.

"When you add this, he'll never even think about finding someone else."

"Is that so?" You laughed as you listened to your grandma explain her secrets of keeping a man. Even if you found it a little funny, borderline ridiculous, and extremely outdated, you knew she was dead serious. "And how do you get the man?"

Your grandma paused and smiled, "Are you sure you're ready to hear that?"

"If you're laying out all of your secrets, I might as well!"

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock and the ring of a doorbell.

"Well, looka here!"

You can hear the glee in your grandmother's voice as she opens the door.

"Look what the Lord brought me," she comes back to the kitchen with her arm wrapped around Miguel's arm. She's smiling brighter than ever. "And he had enough sense to bring back my good dish. Won't He do it?"

"Of course, I had to bring it back. How else could I thank you both and ask for some more at the same time?"

Miguel looked funny in your childhood home. A little out of place. Though when he opened his mouth it was like everything seemed right. He looked even funnier out of uniform. The joggers were doing something for you.

"You ready?"

You blinked a couple of times, coming back to Earth and steadying your wandering mind.

"Ready for...?"

"My poor child," your grandma grumbled to herself. "He came to go check on the house. Remember?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Of course! Let's go."

As you made your way to the door, your grandma made sure to pull you back.

"And remember what I told you, ok? You just need a dash of it."

"Grandma there won't be any cooking until I get my gas line fixed."

"I don't mean the cooking, child, I mean the-"

You coughed loudly to cover her growing voice. The older she got the more her brain-to-mouth filter faded away.

"I got it, grandma."

You were sure she was going to say something about a bedroom technique, but Miguel was probably standing closer to you both than your grandma thought.

He didn't need to know whatever your grandma was trying to say.

Firefighter!Miguel who was happy to have someone that truly piqued his interest after so long.

Some of his hookups were either growing too attached or getting too ballsy, stepping over several boundaries. The last girl he dated was in it for all of the wrong reasons, and the woman before that sunk him so low he never knew he could bounce back.

He told himself he wouldn't try to date any of the people he saved, but life was growing longer and he wasn't getting any younger. Plus, you did look really lovely in your patterned pajama pants and flour in places they shouldn't be.

Something about your struck a match against him.

Firefighter!Miguel who walked into your house with a calmer state than the last.

There was a blue tarp plastered over the hole in your home and some debris left over from the accident.

"Sorry for the mess," your voice was quiet enough that he had to hone in on it.

"I've seen worse."

You look back at him with shock then laugh when you see the silly grin on his face.

He walked deeper into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, "It's not too terrible. I actually went ahead and called the gas company because something like this needs to be solved immediately."

Your eyebrows raise, "So is it already fixed then?"

"Took them about a day, but yeah. Now we just need to focus on getting the rest of this worked out."

"Thank you, truly," you smile up at him as you shift your weight. "Well, I guess I should do something else then, huh? I don't want to waste too much more of your time.

He was off work. "I don't mind. Glad to help in any way I can."

"Do you know how long the repairs might take?"

Miguel clicks his teeth repeatedly, "From about a week to a couple of months. From what I see, you should probably grab a few weeks of clothes."

"Roger that, Captain," you salute him as you turn to go to your room.

Miguel quelled the tiny spark that those words brought to him.

Firefighter!Miguel who watches you kick something out of the way when you enter your room.

He caught a flash of purple as you turned the lights on, but whatever it was under your bed in one swift motion.

Firefighter!Miguel who leans against the doorway as you bend deep to pull out more clothes.

Why you didn't grab things that were already on hangers, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't upset at the view at all.

Firefighter!Miguel who wanted to see you again, so he invited you to the annual charity car wash that his unit gave.

"We wash cars for a decent price, sell some goodies, and we take some pictures for the firefighter calendar."

He saw your eyes light up at those words, "I think I would love to see that."

"And I would love to have you there."

"Would you, now? Should I invite more people?"

"Yeah, for charity. I think I'm mostly going to be happy to see you."

Miguel picked a bin full of your clothes up and walked them through the door to his car, not really ready to process whatever look you might have on your face.

He may have nearly slammed his hand into the door with how fast he was moving, but he hopes that he can see you again soon.

divider by: @gigittamic + @/benkeibear (Idk if you'll see this, but I hope you're doing alright!!!) ❤️‍🔥

a/n: It's so late and I definitely have work tomorrow but here I am because I have no self control.

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[autisticfaun420]

More on HSN autism and poop I guess

My most popular post by far is my one about my struggle with fecal smearing not sure why. I guess I’ll give you guys a follow up cause I want to talk more about incontinence and how it has affected my life. Sorry new to tumblr and I don’t remember what tags to use so OCD people can filter so I hope this intro is enough of a trigger warning.

I’m gonna be blunt about it, what’s worse then smearing though is just being in public stuck in a shitty diaper really for a couple reasons. I can’t stop myself from having bowel accidents in public, and when I’m having them too I *look* like I’m having one, I can’t stop my legs from squatting like a little kid and there’s often an accompanying sound to go with it. I wish I could say this in a nicer way but I basically go from the tolerable quirky R word to the ew so disgusting R word real fast. People go from smiling at me at least to going to openly degrading me and making comments like I’m not in the room. People get bothered real fast, I can’t blame them it smells bad but it doesn’t change the fact on how I feel inside once I became old enough to realize this was going on. It’s hard for my parents and caregivers to find a place in public to change me and it’s often impossible. The restaurants I eat at, the places so visit, are all dependent on me having a single room bathroom because a proper adult changing station is a pipe dream.

God forbid I have a diaper blowout (where poop goes up the back and out the diaper), then whatever small amount empathy people have goes quickly out the window. I used to like taking the bus with my dad, I can’t do it anymore. I had one blowout on the bus and people acted like their life was in danger “ew ew ew oh my god the r word shit everywhere ew” from someone not even close to where I was sitting, people telling my dad how my mom should of handled her pregnancy, I learned what an abortion was that day. People become blunt when they are mildly inconvenienced with a bad smell and they think it gives them a right to dehumanize someone. I know it’s disgusting but maybe there’s something wrong with me but I don’t think the reaction warrants it. Not when I’ve been at people’s houses and the dog shits everywhere and people go aww he’s just a little guy to the dog. I wish I got that kind of reaction as an autistic child, infantilization is at least better then telling me I should have never been born.

I wanted to write more but sorry I’m crying now. I guess I’ll end it on a positive note. I mentioned in a previous post how one of my high school friends, who grew up with little brothers and cousins, had no problems changing me so we could hang out. I’m not saying that’s an accommodation I expect anyone at all to make for me who’s not a parent or a caregiver getting paid for it, but the fact that he never acted grossed out when cleaning me healed something in me. I would be so embarrassed shitting myself in front of my “cool” neurotypical friends, I would be tearing up and I opened up about it and how embarrassing it is and he basically told me fuck the haters and it’s not something I can control. I didn’t ask for it. A part of me believed I was doing on purpose and carried guilt and guilt leads to meltdowns and smearing incidents. “What do you mean all the cool kids poop their pants” he would say sometimes to make me laugh. During our hangout sessions I would whisper to him “cool pants” or text him that so he could discreetly take me to the bathroom. He’d do it wether he was drunk, stoned, or sober. And like I said in the other post, he was the only reason I was able to have the freedom to hang out without a caretaker or parent in high school and we could all smoke weed together without my parents knowing. I think they did know what I was doing and just let me have my teenage fun, I think my parents thought the weed chilled me out too, which is true, so they let me do it but my cannabis use is a topic for another day.

[marioluigifan134]

The Voice of Skeeter/Henry about Nora/Starbitedreams/UmbreonDarkEdge

Hello, this is Nickolas of Miiblr writing for a brief moment here, I need to address what is really happening between us (more specifically, a user named @patti-mayonnaise A.K.A. Skeeter/Henry) and Nora/Starbitedreams, because I am getting really sick of watching people defend this person when they are not an innocent person at all. I will give this post to Skeeter's side now, here's his side of what is going on.

This is about Skeeter's relationship with Starbite.

Everything Skeeter/Henry writes will be in black text to avoid confusion (my text is in purple).

Also, there are some Trigger Warnings that I want to warn you all about, as this post contains sexually explicit and suggestive content and manipulation!

hey. im henry (starby's ex boyfriend, who came out about his actions to the mods.) fuck idk where to begin. maybe i should start with the harmless stuff because god i suck with my words starbys obsessive behavior always bothered me when i was with him. i felt like it'd be impossible for me to even speak to him because of how clingy he could get. this also came to play when i started to get f/os (i use self shipping as a coping mechanism which i guess.. pissed him off??)

ah! speaking of his bpd! he would blame it on literally everything. especially his hypersexuality. hell, he even thought making porn of IRL ME, WHOS 15 (he drew it when i was 14) WOULD BE OK??? STARBY HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING THAT SHIT CAN GET YOU IN TROUBLE

before you say "oh henry!! why didn't you stop him??" well with the given ss, i didn't have a choice. considering i was his bf at the time, i thought it'd be best to keep my mouth shut and let him do what he wants, but i was very uncomfy. considering im asexual

starby, YOU. ARE. MY. BOYFRIEND. i should be having to ask you to comfort me, ffs!!

now here's the flat out racism. before september 8th hit and i was still 14, i was talking to starby about how my dad didn't give me a quince (for personal reasons, even tho its our tradition) and with one google search, heres what he had to say

"pedophile ass shit" STARBY THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS??? AT LEAST THATS NOT HOW MY FAMILY DOES IT??? you're not even mexican yourself so how do you know???? insensitive ass

anyways moving on, going back to my self ship discussion, he would get very butthurt about my obsessions and f/os (mostly doug, my comfort character and bravoman, my f/o (who is portrayed without his suit and his mii form) which i find very ironic considering he would not stfu about wanting to fuck an old man (taizo hori)

(context for the last two images) i was in a doug server with him (since he asked and i figured cuz hes OBSESSED) with me and idk i guess he got jealous that i wasnt in the same fandom as him so he found reasons for me to not like doug??? idk but the way he worded it was very rude and i was reached out by two mods and the server owner with how uncomfortable he made everyone felt. so eventually he got banned

..thats all i have to say. bottom line is that i hope he gets the help he needs.

henry out

Alright, Nickolas is back, and I want to mention that me and my friends also had our fair share of experiences with Nora. While it is not finished (as far as I know), I feel the need to share the doc explaining them here, because what it contains should tell you everything in our true experiences.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I was over an hour late for the gym tonight, spending the better part of the day in bed staring at the ceiling, and occasionally typing out an apology text to Ash that I would immediately delete.

I had hoped that everyone else would be gone by the time I arrived, but Dawn and Phoenix were still lingering by the climbing machines when I walked in, so I tried (and failed) to avoid them by sneaking up the stairs to the treadmills. Dawn caught up with me before I even reached the first step and knew immediately something was wrong. She insisted on waiting around for me so we could walk home together.

I was annoyed at first, wanting to be alone, but by the time we’re throwing on our sweaters and beanies, I’m glad. Afterall, I’m getting nowhere on my own, just spinning myself in circles. Talking to Dawn is one of those things I avoid until I can’t, and then always wish I’d done sooner.  

“So, what’s wrong?” Dawn asks as soon as we step outside. It’s dark out, making it feel much later than it is, and I can already feel the weight of the season settling in. Winter is always the hardest for me, and Spring is still so far away.

I’m not sure where to start so I just blurt out, “I screwed things up with Asher yesterday.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently, he’s tired of my mixed signals.”

“Have you been giving mixed signals?”

I give her a guilty look as I nod solemnly.

“What haven’t you told me?”

Everything. But it’s too much to get into, and the details aren’t important, and she knows me well enough that I'm sure she can fill in the blanks, so I tell her, “It doesn’t matter,” to which she gives me an annoyed look but let's me continue, “But he got pissed and stormed out. I can’t blame him. I don’t know what my problem is.”

“Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Please.”

“Have you ever heard the quote, ‘A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it’?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I get that you’re tired of losing people. And I know that causes you to keep most people at arm’s length. It may feel like you’re protecting yourself, but you’re not. You will continue to lose people if you keep pushing them away.”

“Maybe. But it will hurt less if they leave without getting too close.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“Do I?” It feels true.

“Did it hurt when Asher stormed out yesterday?”

Point taken. “Like I was being ripped apart.”

“So, why are pushing him away? You’re only causing the pain you’re trying to avoid.”

“I don’t want to. Not anymore. But it’s like, I don’t know how not to. I can’t explain it. Just, the idea of taking that step, I feel like it won’t take long for him to see that I’m not who he thinks I am, that he’ll realize I’m not someone he can…” My voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Love?”

The mere mention of the word causes my chest to tighten. I feel my mind wanting to shrug off the very idea of it. So impossible that I feel silly even considering it.

“Oh Atlas. It’s not true,” she insists. “That was the kind of shit mom and dad put in our heads. And I get it, I felt like that too for a long time. I just handled it differently. I chased love as if someone else could come in and take that feeling away. But that just made me toxic and clingy and insufferable. It was my own version of pushing people away. And every time they left it felt like proof that I was right, that I wasn’t worth loving. But it wasn’t true, was it?”

“No.”

“It’s not true for you either.”

I understand what she’s saying, and logically I know she’s right, but there’s a part of me deep down that rejects it.

When I try to continue walking, she stops me, placing a hand over my heart, “I love you, Atlas. And not just because you’re my brother. Because you are caring and kind and gentle and loyal and supportive and I could go on forever. Not only are you worthy of love, but it is impossible not to love you.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and I can tell from the look on her face that she’s sincere. “Thank you.” I reach out and give her the biggest hug I ever have. She’s surprised at first, but hugs me back, squeezing me tight. I don't think either of us realized how much I needed to hear those words. We don't say them often, it doesn't come naturally to either of us, it's usually just implied in the ways we support each other, but maybe we should be saying the words more often. "I love you too."

“So, what am I supposed to do?” I ask as we step apart and start walking again. 

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.”

“Then go talk to him. And be honest.”

“What if it’s too late?”

“Then I’ll be here for you. But there’s only one way to find out.”

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[quibbs126]

So earlier I was debating whether or not to even make and post this, and it doesn’t even have everything I wanted, but you know, it’s here now, so why not 

I don’t know, it started as me thinking about the idea and sort of wanting to put it in its own text post, but I thought it wouldn’t be worth much salt that way, and I’m an artist, why not draw what I want? But as I was doing so, I started to doubt whether anyone would like this, particularly Constructicon fans since I don’t actually know those bots that well, and that I would annoy people and maybe I should have just kept it as text, but I was already making it

It was a whole mess, but we’re here now, and this is what I’ve got for you today

Also, if you notice that this isn’t what was on here originally, yeah that’s because I rewrote it. I didn’t like how much I was butchering my thoughts and thought maybe I’d do better on a second go-around. Even I don’t really feel like writing the entire thing over again

But anyways, onto explaining this, we’ll talk about the art later

So basically this is drawing from that one scene in Five Faces of Darkness Part 4 that I’ve mentioned prior, with the Constructicons seemingly having built Megatron

Here I’ve got it that the Constructicons didn’t necessarily build him, but they did basically find him as a small sparkling, and since he was alone and seemingly abandoned, they pretty much just decided to take him in themselves 

In their words, he’s their apprentice, to learn the tools of their trade even if he isn’t a Constructicon (like let’s just say here that Constructicons are built Constructicons, same with other roles and such. That’s also why Megatron stays silver). But in practice, tiny Megs basically just has 6-8 dads

But he grows up under them, learning to build, even if he tends to lean more into mechanical/electrical engineering and such rather than civil engineering/architecture like the Constructicons. But they’re chill with it, he’s finding his passion

Eventually when he’s older, he decides to leave to pursue his own path in life, and they all part on amicable terms. It’s basically just him reaching adulthood and moving out

Then there’s the part I’m unsure about keeping, that being the reprogramming thing we see in The Secret of Omega Supreme, since I’m trying to weave those two parts of the Constructicon lore together at least. We’ll get into why later, let’s just explain the story here first

So later on, Megatron is building his Decepticon army, and he goes to the Constructicons to offer them a place in his ranks, in part for their useful construction skills, but also because he still values them greatly and wants them to join in his ambitions. The Constructicons however, decline his offer, as this Decepticon movement doesn’t really align with their own ideals. Something to note, I’m having it that prior to the formation of the Decepticons by Megatron, all of Cybertron would have essentially been “neutral”, including the Constructicons and Megatron, none of them being inherently evil or anything. But they still try to be respectful of Megatron during this, since they still greatly value him as well, and he’s his own bot now, they shouldn’t tell him what to think, and this Decepticon thing probably isn’t as bad as it sounds, they trust Megatron 

But Megatron doesn’t take this rejection well, at least inwardly. So he decides to instead make the Constructicons join him by reprogramming them, and thus the events of the Omega Supreme flashbacks

Now how the Constructicons feel about Megatron doing this, no one can truly say because of their reprogramming, it could easily be the new code telling them that they’re grateful to him for doing this. Megatron thinks it was good, but maybe down the line, he starts to feel some guilt for basically forcing his mentors to join him and stripping them of true free will. He might even consider trying to undo the programming, in the hopes that he can make things right, but he also wants their forgiveness. And a part of him is aware that most likely, he will not get that forgiveness from him should he do it; they’re more likely to entirely reject and denounce him for what he did, maybe even deciding to turn to the Autobots instead of staying with him. So he chooses to not to do anything about it, and tell himself that this is what they’d want

So the reason I’m unsure about keeping this angle is because it’s a pretty unequivocally evil thing to do, to forcefully rewrite your family’s brains so that they’ll agree with you when they’ve already respectfully said they didn’t. Like the only way anyone is getting out of that is if they’re a small child who doesn’t understand morals well yet, and Megatron is definitely not that. And yeah, Megatron’s supposed to be evil, but this is kind of on another level

And you know, it kind of takes away from the silliness of “Megatron has 6 dads” part of this if it’s canon this is all against their free will and he is forcing them into joining him. Like it becomes incredibly distracting 

I like the headspace thing for Megatron, seeing why he’d do this, but it also might just be too evil. I guess it does fit for g1 Megs, he kind of is just evil, but still

So if he didn’t reprogram them, how did they join the Decepticons? I don’t know, I guess they just decided to go with him that first time. Ignore that their morals presumably degraded in that time, maybe the Decepticons weren’t as bad at the time 

But regardless, how do they interact within the Decepticons? I mean Megatron is a grown bot now, but they still got times where they still see Megs as the cute little apprentice he used to be. And they also don’t tend to cow to his commands, probably instead snapping back for it, like “what did you just say, young man?”. They all still care about each other regardless though, at least on some level (the Constructicons probably care for Megs more than the other way around, but it still exists somewhere in his spark)

Also I’m thinking that their relationship, while they’ve never outright stated it, has never been something they decided to keep secret either. Like one of them will casually talk about something he did as a small bot, much to his embarrassment, and just their general vibes when they interact. It’s not the most known fact in the faction though, because they don’t tell people. Most bots probably don’t even know they’re older than Megatron, so when they talk about Megs having once been cute, it causes great confusion 

Speaking of which, why do the Constructicons still have good looks while Megatron, whom they raised, looks ancient? I don’t know, maybe he’s just cursed with old man face

Also where does this whole backstory thing fit with g1? Eh, I don’t really know. Like I wouldn’t say this is my exact headcanon for them in g1, though for all intents and purposes, it certainly could be. I mean, it’s my explanation as to two parts of the Constructicons’ inconsistent backstories, and also maybe why Megatron is so skilled in engineering in the show (and he’s built some structures too I believe)

But like, I feel like it’s simultaneously a little too different from g1? Maybe I’d use it for that g1 rewrite idea I had once, where you’d take the plots and concepts from g1 and just give them consistency/continuity and generally better writing. I’m given to understand Skybound might be similar to that? But also it’s not as dark as Skybound,  it’s just g1 with higher quality. And presumably the plot ends up changing at some point due to this

But anyways, I think that’s it on the plot stuff, now to ramble a little on the art itself

I wanted to do a few more drawings, like a younger apprentice Megs or when he left and re-approached the Constructicons, but I didn’t end up doing that in part because of my indecision on all this, but also because I’m lazy 

The designs are predominantly g1 based, since that’s where this draws from, but I think it turned out pretty well

I think I also did a little better on anatomy too, probably because at least on the second one, I tried to look for a reference for Megatron’s thinking hand. I think I need to remember pose references more, since it really was helpful here

I also gave tiny Megs a black helmet and yellow eyes to reference D-16/the comics because why not. Though I’m not sure why his head changed in universe, other than I guess getting older (the red eyes also isn’t because hier turned evil, I guess it just happened). Probably also more of his body should be different, but eh

He’s also got the permanent eye shadow because I like it

And I think that’s it for this, hopefully it’s more coherent than the original. And also, I think that Megatron should be given more of a connection with the Constructicons, even if I suppose it doesn’t make sense in most other continuities

[avatar-anna]

Baby Mine

or just young dadrry being a dad

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Reality struck Harry in the face when he realized Y/n was showing.

The text he got from Y/n saying she was pregnant? Mind-blowing, but also a little surreal. The conversations he had with his parents and management? An out of body experience. But seeing Y/n with a baby bump for the first time, with his baby? His knees nearly buckled from the stark realization that this was actually happening.

He was going to be a dad.

It was a terrifying thought. Harry was still a kid himself—in all the ways that mattered, anyway. He played video games with his mates, he stayed out late on the weekends, and it felt like just yesterday that he'd gotten his driver's license. He could barely successfully cook pasta, let alone take care of his own child.

And Y/n, the girl he'd only known for a short couple months. The girl he really liked to the point where he still talked to her even after his trip to LA was over, she was here with him, on tour, walking around in his hotel room in one of his t-shirts, her stomach stretching the soft material just enough to be noticeable.

"I thought we could have dinner together," she said, coming over to where Harry was still holding vigil by the door. "I was craving Mexican and I remembered you saying you liked tacos, so I did a little exploring, and voila."

His eyes darted over Y/n's shoulder, and there were in fact various Mexican dishes wrapped up in foil packaging. It smelled good too, but it wasn't quite enough to pull Harry from his stupor.

"I...I'm meeting someone. The boys. For dinner," he said.

It wasn't quite enough to pull his head out of his ass apparently, either.

"Oh."

Y/n blushed, her gaze flickering away from his. Harry felt like a dick, especially since it wasn't true. But he freaked out. He was freaking out. Playing house—or hotel—with a girl he barely knew and pretending it was perfectly normal for them to prepare to have a baby together was too much. All of a sudden, it was all too much.

"Have—Have fun, then. I'll probably head back to my room, I guess."

It was painfully awkward, but Harry didn't know how to make it better. So, like the grown adult he wasn't, he mumbled a reply and skirted around Y/n to set his duffle bag down before mumbling his goodbyes and leaving again.

He was gone for maybe an hour. While he was gone, he walked around aimlessly, letting himself get lost in an unfamiliar city. And in all that walking, he gave himself time to think.

Harry knew he'd been an ass. Y/n hadn't done anything wrong, and knowing that he disappointed her made him upset. Because the truth was, he really liked her. She shared his stupid sense of humor, she liked the music he liked, she had a cute little birthmark on her right shoulder that Harry couldn't help but feel compelled to kiss whenever he saw it. She was beautiful and smart and outgoing.

And now she was having his baby.

They were both to blame for that. Both of them had been careless that particular night, but Y/n had been clear to Harry when she told him about her being pregnant. "I want to have it, but I'm also not going to force you to have it with me," she'd told him when they eventually had a phone conversation. "I don't, like, expect anything from you, but I just didn't think it would be right if I kept this a secret from you."

"How did your parents take it?" Harry had asked because her voice contained a steely nerve that was deflecting non-existent judgement.

"Not great, but they'll come around. Eventually. I hope."

She'd said the last part so quietly, as if she wasn't truly sure her parents would actually accept the fact that their daughter was pregnant.

"I want to help," he blurted.

Y/n had looked at him with wide eyes, and a pang of guilt lanced through him at her surprise. She'd genuinely thought he'd leave her high and dry.

"Help?"

"I—I want to be a part of this, or help you raise it—the baby. I want to help. Like we're a team—Not a team. Like a—"

"A team. I like that."

Harry had been glad to be put out of his misery, though to his credit, he never imagined ever having this conversation, and he at least hadn't cried yet.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think family is too much right now," Y/n said. "But a team...a team looks out for each other. Makes each other better."

So they were a team, though clearly Harry had been dropping the ball recently.

He was just...scared. Terrified. But he could only imagine what Y/n was thinking, how she was feeling. Since she'd joined him on tour, they talked about everything but the baby. Whether that was conscious or subconscious on either of their parts, Harry wasn't sure, but he knew they couldn't skirt around the subject forever. When he first told his mum about Y/n being pregnant, Harry insisted that he could do this, that he was grown enough to raise a baby. He wasn't exactly sure how true that statement was, but one thing he did know was that he could do much better than he was now.

When he got back to the hotel, Y/n was spread out along the plush sofa, eyes closed and arm resting idly on her belly. Harry wasn't so scared at seeing the bump this time around. In fact, a part of him was a little excited.

Y/n startled a little when Harry knelt by her side, her eyes bleary and a little red. "Sorry. I was gonna go, but I sat down for a moment and—"

"Nothing to be sorry for," Harry interrupted. "I'm sorry, actually. I was kind of an ass earlier."

Shaking her head, she said, "We don't owe each other anything. It's not like we're—"

"But I want to. I know things have been a little awkward, but I like you, Y/n. A lot. That hasn't changed."

"Really?" Y/n asked, and Harry felt bad when she sounded so unsure.

"Really. We...obviously didn't expect this to happen, but I want this. With you. Even if we are a little young and out of our depth here."

Y/n laughed. "Try a lot."

Harry grinned, resting his hand over hers where she was still holding her belly. "But we'll learn. Together. We're a team, right?"

Her eyes softened then. She ran a hand through his curls, the touch delicate but comforting, and Harry couldn't help but lean into her touch. "Yeah. We're a team."

They stayed like that for a minute, maybe two, but Harry eventually straightened, his grin widening as he said, "Right then. We should welcome the newest member of our team, shouldn't we?"

Y/n giggled as Harry shuffled around until he was face to face with Y/n's stomach. He lifted her shirt gently, his breath catching when he saw the baby bump up close.

"Hello there...baby. I'm Harry. Your dad," he said, only feeling a little silly. "You don't have a name yet, but I just wanted you to know that I love you, and your mum loves you, and even though we're a little on the young side, we're gonna take care of you the best we can. And so will your uncles."

"That was sweet, H," Y/n said, her fingers tracing the side of his cheek. "And...I do have a name in mind."

"You do? I didn't know that."

Y/n gave him a smile that felt like she was teasing him. "Because I'm telling you now. I've been testing it out in my head for a few days."

If Harry thought the baby bump made all of this real, talking about potential names would definitely do that. But whether he was ready or not, this was happening.

"Alright. Hit me with it."

A small smile creeped onto Y/n's face. "Simone."

"Simone," Harry repeated, trying it out for himself. "How'd you land on Simone?"

Y/n shrugged casually, but Harry knew that she put thought into it, that this name meant something to her. "It's pretty, and, I don't know, we talked about Nina Simone on our first date. It seemed right."

Thinking about their first proper date gave Harry butterflies. He remembered how nervous he was to go out with Y/n, spending an embarrassing amount of time picking out the right clothes and fixing his hair. But when he actually met her at the spot they agreed on, all his nerves went away, and he spent the whole date marveling at the fact that he was on a date with Y/n and all the things they had in common and how he didn't want it to end.

"It's perfect," Harry agreed, then bent his head to kiss Y/n's belly. "Hi, Simone. I can't wait to meet you."

A few months later

"Do you want to hold her?"

Y/n was in her hospital bed, hair hanging limp around her shoulders. She looked tired beyond belief, but she was smiling brightly at Harry as she held a little bundle of blankets, one of which was his mother's handiwork, Harry realized.

He found himself nodding, and before he was maybe ready, Y/n passed the baby over to him, and he was holding her. His daughter.

Harry looked down, a swirl of emotions squeezing his heart. She was asleep, the world's tiniest hand pressed against her cheek while she took deep breaths. Logically, he knew she didn't have any distinguishable features yet, but Harry felt like he could see himself and Y/n in her. Just gazing at her little face, he felt like he could see the next fifteen years playing out—the first words and steps, seeing Y/n holding her backstage, recitals and sports games, school projects, first loves, all of it.

An overwhelming feeling Harry couldn't name washed over him. It brought tears to his eyes as he realized just how much he loved her, how much he was willing to bend over backwards and protect her. And when he was able to break away from looking at her for a second, he found Y/n's gaze and saw the same look in her eyes, and one of understanding too.

Harry looked back down at his daughter, that overwhelming feeling rushing through him again, and for a moment, he wondered if that would ever go away. He wasn't sure he wanted it to.

"Hi baby," he whispered. Bending his head down, he kissed her forehead. "Hi, Simone. Welcome to our little family."

He knew Y/n was listening, but he didn't mind. It felt right that it was just the three of them sharing this little moment before everyone else flooded in to see the baby.

"We're a little unconventional as far as families go, and you'll probably have a different childhood than other kids," he said, not caring that Simone couldn't hear or understand him. He needed to say it. "But I'll love you with all my heart, and so will your mummy. You'll want for nothing because we'll give you the world, but you might have to be a little patient with us because we're new to the parenting thing.

"But I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy," he continued, his voice breaking. "I'll never let you feel unloved. I'll change your nappies and wipe your tears and make you smile. I'll be the best daddy for you. I promise."

Harry didn't know what the future held, but that he was sure of. He'd been scared and anxious the last few months, but now that he was standing in a hospital room holding his newborn daughter, he didn't want to give her, or Y/n, anything less than what they deserved.

Years later

"Dad, you're squeezing too hard."

"I don't care. My baby's abandoning me."

"I'm going to college!"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

Simone began to squirm, but Harry still wouldn't let up. He was currently in the process of blinking back tears, and didn't want her to notice when he eventually did pull away.

"I'll be back for Fall Break," she said quietly, giving into the hug and squeezing Harry tight.

Harry took a deep breath and let go, even though he wasn't exactly ready to. Mustering a smile, he said, "I know. I'm just going to miss you. You're my baby."

Simone didn't balk or roll her eyes or contradict him, she just gripped the straps of her backpack as she gave him a wobbly smile. "You have plenty of babies to take care of at home."

Harry grinned and looked behind him where Y/n was keeping watch over the rest of the Styles family, though none of them were really babies anymore.

Looking back at Simone, he said, "Behave yourself, okay? Don't do anything Uncle Louis would do. And no boys for at least a month, please?"

Simone did roll her eyes then. "Sure, Dad."

That wasn't totally convincing, but he knew it was the best he was going to get. Harry pulled Simone in for one last hug, memories of the last eighteen years playing in his mind like a fast forward reel. Part of him couldn't believe he was already dropping Simone off for her first year of college, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to let her go. When he looked at her, he could still see the little baby he held for the first time, the one he promised to protect and do his best to raise. He hoped he fulfilled that promise.

"I love you, bug. Call me if you need anything. Any time, any place, you call me, okay?"

Tears appeared in Simone's eyes as she nodded. When Harry was ready, he finally stepped back and walked back toward Y/n and the rest of his family. As everyone got in the car Simone watched, waving to her siblings from the curb until Harry eventually peeled out of his spot, feeling like he was leaving part of his heart behind.

"Can we get something to eat?"

"In-N-Out!"

"There's no In-N-Out here!"

"A burger does sound good."

"Skip the song, please!"

"Play One Direction!"

Harry smiled as he shared a look with Y/n. He already missed Simone, but he knew she would be okay. And he found that it was easier—not by a lot but easier—to miss someone when there were five other babies, who weren't really babies anymore, to look after.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Roll for Initiative--Part 3

Joe’s managed to keep the lock down about his limited knowledge on Dungeons & Dragons. He won’t say he learned about it because of you.

It only takes one text message though for the truth to start to unravel. If slaying dragons and BBEGs isn’t the place to confess feelings, where is?

Joe Burrow x Black Reader.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

It's cancer.

Joe stares at the text message, heart pounding against his ribs. He's not sure what to say in response to this. What do people say when their friend's find out their mother's are dealing with cancer? Should he apologize? Does he offer to be there? All those things are in fact true, but still his fingers remain frozen.

"Man, that shit sounds like it's for the birds," Ja'Marr returns. "But that twist sounds good as hell though. Wish I could've seen it."

They caught it early. She's got a good team of doctors  and she won't have to do chemo, at the very least. Just will have to have the whole thyroid removed and start meds.

"Joe, are you even listening to me? Am I just talking to walls now?"

"It's cancer." Those are the only words Joe can think to get out. He wishes he could say it better or actually respond to Ja'Marr's humor. But Joe has nothing. He falls back against his couch cushions staring down at the phone screen.

"Shit, man, I'm sorry to hear that."

Ja'Marr knows about your mother, only because of Joe and Joe knows that he probably shouldn't have said anything. But he had to tell someone, lest it eat him alive too.

"Yeah," Joe returns because he's sorry to hear that too. He wishes it was anything else but this. "Just-one second," he finally looks up to Ja'Marr who only nods and then pushes up from the couch, ducking into the hallway that leads further into the house. The line rings once, then twice, and a third time in Joe's ear before the call connects.

"Hey, Joe."

"I'm sorry to hear about your mom," he offers first to your greeting. "I just wanted to hear your voice, see how you were doing, which I'm sure is not great. But still."

"I appreciate it, Joe."

"If there's anything you need from me, please let me know. I'll water your plants, cook you dinner, whatever."

Your snorted laughter is short, but a relief to hear. "You mean have your chef make me something."

Joe scoffs at the idea. "No, I mean with my own two hands. And my air fryer."

"I want lemon pepper wings then.”

Joe snorts at the tease. “You and those wings. But sure.”

Your breathing echoes on the other side of the receiver. And he’s not sure if you have something else to say, or if you’re still wrapped up in work, but he waits. He’d freeze time if he could for you. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel,” you finally confess. The earlier levity is withering now. 

“I don’t think there’s any one way to feel. It’s okay to feel all sorts of things. But just know, it’s all going to work out.” 

Joe doesn’t know if that’s true but he wants it to be true. He wants you and your mom to be okay. She’s the only parent you have access to. You don’t talk much about your dad—though, Joe’s gotten pieces. Your aunt, on your dad’s side, was caught up with drug dealers. Your dad was maybe trying to get his sister out, or maybe he was already dealing. That part is fuzzy to Joe. Though, it doesn’t really matter. The raid found federal weight and with your dad’s priors, the maximum sentence was given. Leaving you here, fifteen years laters without him while your mother fights cancer.

“I hope so. I really do. But one step at a time,” you return. 

“Like the surgery. And your wings,” Joe offers. 

Your laughter is soft. “Yes, exactly like that. Look, I gotta get back. I stepped out to take your call. But I can call you after I leave the office. That okay?”

“Of course it is. I’ll be here.” 

“Thanks. Talk to you later.”

The call ends—the two beeps on Joe’s ear that lets him know it’s done. He pushes the few strands flopping against his forehead back, exhaling. It’s cancer. The text message haunts him because he knows this is going to eat you alive. Even when—because Joe’s not going to think otherwise—your mother comes out on the other side, it won’t be without a few chips in yourself. 

There’s a wet echoing, the smack of lips and then your name, followed by his. More smacks echo. “Oh, Joe,” Ja’Marr teases, his voice pitched to sound like yours. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Joe bellows even though there’s only mere feet between them. 

Ja’Marr laughs, a cackling sound that cuts over the TV’s commercial. “You’ve had a crush for how long?”

Joe doesn’t answer as he walks back to the living room. Not verbally. But he’s liked you for a while. Since you gave him your Art History notes. At the time, you were dating someone. And then he dated someone. And two of you danced around each other for years like this, where one of you  was in a relationship while the other was single or, at times, both of you dating other people, until now. Back in 2022, you broke up with a long term partner for 2 years and Joe was not going to rush that. 

But now, a little over two years later, perhaps, Joe could make a move. It still feels wrong though. Like maybe he’s reading all the signs wrong. Or maybe it’s just Joe’s own worry. It feels especially wrong now with the news of your mother.  

“You done?” Joe asks, settling back into his cushions. 

“Nah, matter fact, I think I’m just getting start,” Ja’Marr teases, but he settles deeper into the cushions instead with silence falling between them for a beat, then two. “Shit’s fucked though. That their moms’ got cancer. If they need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks. If there’s anything, I’ll definitely pass it along.”

“So about this D&D shit or whatever, do you know what happened next? Like after it was revealed that they were the deity and took the demon boy?”

Joe grins as he looks over. “I thought this shit was for the birds.”

Ja’Marr sucks his teeth, knowing exactly what Joe’s trying to get at. “I mean, it is. But that’s the kind of twist in a movie or something. Sounds good as hell and I’m invested now.”

“No update just yet. But once I know, you’ll know.”

“Bet.”

******************

It’s a four hour drive, long enough that it messes with your nerves even more. But short enough you’re glad that the two of you can do it in one shot. You tell yourself that it’ll all work out because it has to. You need your mom. She’s said everything will be okay; Joe has too. Everyone else has optimism and all you have is worry. A sinking feeling in your gut about what comes next. Yet, you still prepare yourself--double and tripping checking your duffle bag. 

With the surgery call time being early, you and your mother have plans to make the trip the day before, enjoy some of the Cleveland sights and then retire early in the evening for her procedure the next day. Joe agreed to be on standby, the closest person you have in case of an emergency outside of your mother. Your half siblings all live out of state--children of your dad by his first wife. Your mother being his second. Though you all aren’t terribly close, you know you could call them and they would do what they could to help. Family reunions are easy, relatively speaking. There’s no bad blood. Just the unforgiving thickness of distance. Your half sister is ten years older than you, your half brother is five years older. A kind of gap that wouldn’t have mattered if the three of you all grew up together, but you didn’t. So the distance remains. 

It’s fillable though. There are still people that you can rely on and you’re thankful for them. Joe especially, when he asked over text if you were busy before he called and called immediately after you told him you were panicking as you packed, afraid you’d forget something vital. 

“Toothpaste?” Joe rattles off. 

You hold it up in view of the phone’s front facing camera. “Check.”

“Toothbrush.”

“Check.”

“PJ’s?”

“Two pairs,” you return. 

“Chargers?”

“In my backpack.”

“Socks and underwear?”

“Got enough for a full two weeks, which I know is overkill and I have a few sports bras to last too.”

“Good. Hopefully, like the surgeons said around the day 5 post op mark, your mom’s at a good point for the drive back. You’ve got your clothes for a few days. Does the hotel have laundry just in case you’re staying longer?”

You nod at his question. “Yes, it’s free, I think the hotel is attached to the hospital.”

“Do you have shower shoes?”

“Yep. I have the sneakers I’m driving in. Shower shoes, and then a pair of slides to get around in the hotel.” You’ll be living in sweats and old well worn and faded t-shirts for the next few days, so it doesn’t matter a lot what the shoes look like and don’t look like.

“Perfect. And your hair care? That’s all packed up too?”

The question shouldn’t make your chest warm. But it does and when you look up, Joe’s leaning over his phone. You think he might be reaching for something in one of his cabinets. But you can’t tell for certain. Though, he’s moved on, clearly unphased by the question unlike you. “I’ve got it all out on the counter so I use what I need, I can throw it into the case and toss it into my bag.”

“Good. Don’t forget a book or something for you to read while you’re waiting and while she’s recovering from the anesthesia.”

You lift your e-reader up. “I am fully prepared.”

“Good. Do you have a portable power bank?”

Your nod over to the dresser emphasizes your point, “It’s charging now.”

Joe hums, eyes lifted up and away, briefly before landing back on you. “I can’t think of anything else that you might need. Oh, wait, you got the travel pillows right? For your mom?”

“Yes. And I’ve washed the coverings so they’re clean for her too. I think I’m going to wait until we get there to grab snacks and extra wound coverings. I’m not sure if they’re going to glue the incisions up or not. But I also don’t feel like lugging that and all my other bags too.”

“Nah, it makes sense. You’ll have the time tomorrow to grab extra stuff too. Do you have lotion? Since I know you refuse to be ashy.”

“My travel bottles were one of the first things I packed.”

“You have your health insurance cards, right? And the legal papers for your mom?”

“She’s bringing her will; the hospital requires it. I have all my cards in my wallet. I’m filling up my tank first thing in the morning. I checked the tire pressure. Oil was changed last week, battery, brakes, and everything have all been checked.”

Joe cracks a smile, lifting the mug up now and you think perhaps his earlier shuffling was him fixing the drink. “Looks like you didn’t even need me to call”

But you did. You absolutely did need to call Joe because the last week and a half as you prepared for this, you’ve felt the little threads unraveling. How are you going to keep it together? And it’s your mother sick. It’s her going under the knife, but your mother’s always been put together. She’s always handled life with the kind of grace you can only pray to have one day. 

“I appreciate you calling though. More than I can say right now.”

“Any time.”

The knock at your door echoes and you look up. The wall clock in your bedroom reads 7--on the dot. “That’s my mom. Thanks again for helping. I’ll let you know once we get on the road tomorrow okay?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Drive safe.”

“We will.”

The evening’s full of pizza and the cackle of your mother’s laughter. She snorts, hands clapping as the two of you recount the stories from your childhood, the time you had friends over who accidentally drank the diet cokes she kept in the back of the fridge--the last ones at that too. How pissed she’d been, so much so that she had to excuse herself back to her bedroom when she saw the can sitting on the counter, cracked open. She hadn’t wanted to lose her temper with you or your friends, but it was clear when she silently turned back down the hallway that she’d been absolutely heated at the loss of her favorite drink. 

“I swear I thought I could spit fire. I was so hot,” she teases, wiping at the corner of her eyes. “It’d been a long day at the school and I wanted nothing more than that ice cold Coke. Oh, boy.”

“No, you looked like you could spit fire. I don’t think we wanted to make another noise the entire night outside of going to the bathroom.”

“It was sweet when I saw a bottle in the fridge the next day after y’all got back from the movies. But yeah, I remember. Oh boy, do I remember.”

The trips down memory lane or nice, a dance of laughter until the pizza box lies on the table with the carcass of crusts and stuck cheese on the box. The cans still fizzle with their carbonation but the silence falls in a wave, the crash of a sniffle or the TV cuts through before more silence bleeds. 

“I called your dad and told him.” The confession comes softly, a whispered sentence that nearly doesn’t sound like the words it carries from your mother.

“How’d he take it?” You haven’t called him in a couple months, mostly trying to keep it together for the sake of your mother. The second you called him it’d feel too real. 

“Bad. His lawyers keep trying to get him out on probation but no judge’s willing to hear them out because of the priors. They’ll keep trying. But that’s one of the hardest calls I’ve had to make in a while.”

“I still can’t believe it though. How he got caught up.” It’s not lost on you that your dad was affiliated, that he’d been pushing weight for the majority of your younger childhood years—up until he got the final nail in the coffin. But he’d been trying to keep his sister out of it, knowing just how bad it was going to get. Yet, it hadn’t mattered--all his good deeds punished just like all his bad ones. 

Your mother’s hummed response is soft, “We all make choices. That’s what life is at the end of the day, a lot of choices.”

That much you know, that every step would cause a chain, but it still hurts to know that even though he’d been trying to do some good, it still wasn’t enough. And now tenfold, it must feel like more punishment that he can’t be here, for your mother, for you. 

“I added some money to his commissary. And the phone,” you reply. 

“He told me.”

You don’t tell her that you have an auto withdrawal to a savings account that you push to his books once a month. You can’t add a ton, still working to pay off your student debt. But the work at the front desk of the dental office is good money.  So, you do what you can for him, like you know he’d do for you if he were still here. 

“You worried at all?” you ask, slipping your head down onto her shoulder. You can’t put it into words that you’re nervous. Because what good would that do in a situation like this. 

“A little, but at the end of the day, it is what it is. Can’t change it now.”

That night, as your mother sleeps next to you in your bed, a need to soothe the kid inside of yourself to make sure she actually sleeps well tonight, you pray to a God you haven’t talked to in a while that it all goes well. 

You pray again after your mom’s wheeled back. You held her hand like a lifeline. Praying that it all goes well, that the surgery is smoother than you anticipated. It’s not a terribly long surgery. But still, you know that even the estimated time frame can’t account for the unexpected. You can still feel the press of her bones against yours even as you text Joe, They just wheeled her back. 

Burrowed: She’s in good hands. Call me literally whenever you need. 

The first hour is manageable. You read on your screen, and the pages hold you well in company. You even find that in the midst of the nagging fear that the story carries you away. But just above you you can see the TV holding all the surgery case numbers and where they are. 

That TV is your undoing; you watch it for every minute of a 30 minute span. Unlike a good show, or a football game to watch, there’s no time outs. No commercial breaks. Just the unblinking number of your mother’s case number. Showing she’s still in surgery. 

You push up from the seats, grab the backpack with her clothes and yours and head outside. Maybe fresh air will do you good. Maybe it’ll make the minutes pass faster. The security officer nods at you as you pass—the same one that greeted you upon your arrival. 

“Don’t forget to eat something.” He’s an older black man—the security officer. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” His voice is sincere, a little shaky with age but he holds you so gently that you can only nod as the tears start. 

What a miracle it is to be seen and understood with so few words. 

The Cleveland morning is crisp but you hold the cold air into your lungs and let it shock your skin. God, just let her be okay. 

You settle onto a nearby bench and look out into the parking lot. There’s more cars here than when you and your mother arrived. Nurses and doctors walk past you—and life happens all the time all at once, the kind of strangeness of how much time feels suspended and fast moving all at once. 

“You’ll catch a cold like that.” 

You know that voice anywhere. The deep timbre and slow calculated space between words. Like Joe’s always thinking harder about what to say than he should. “What?” The word falls from you but you’re up off the bench and starting towards him without thought. 

The sunglasses on his face and the hood he has pulled up over the honey brown hair don’t stop you from recognizing Joe, not in the slightest. It’s probably embarrassing to admit: you could spot him anywhere in a crowd, would know him without your sight, probably even without touch too, or smell. 

“I wasn’t going to let you sit here alone,” Joe answers as he pulls you into a tight hug. The bag rustles off his right hand and the smell of coffee, bagels, and something sweeter hits your nose. 

The sweatshirt covering his chest is soft and Joe is solid beneath your hold. Another kind of lifeline. You’re hugging much too long. You know that but Joe never rushes you, instead Joe soothes a hand over your back for a moment. “It’s all going to be okay,” he whispers against your scalp.

“Thank you,” you return after you’ve pulled away from him. 

You know it’s a 4 hour drive. You know Joe could be doing anything else. He could be anywhere else. But he’s here. To be seen and understood with no words. 

“You’re welcome. Now where’s your jacket? Your mother will whoop my ass if she ever finds out I let you sit out here with nothing on your arms.” 

The shuffle is rather swift back to the bench so you are able to pull the jacket from the top of the backpack. Once your jacket is zipped, Joe hands over the steaming cup from the tray. “How’s it been so far?” 

“Boring. Rather nerve wracking if I’m honest.” 

“Boring is good here. We want boring and routine right now. In the meantime, I have an egg and cheese bagel and three glazed donuts to share too. I don’t know if you’ve actually eaten yet or not.”

“I haven’t. No.” Your stomach was much too rocky for anything solid at one point. But the smell of the bagel makes your stomach rumble. Eating would give you something to do other than wait.

“Well, you need some protein and I know no one loves a slightly cold donut but eat the bagel first, please.” 

The coffee is still hot on your tongue. Not so hot, you can’t drink. But hot enough you know you could be risking your tastebuds. You can imagine given the plethora of coffee shops on the way that he stopped by one before getting here. “You sound like such a dad, you know? When you say stuff like that.”

“I learned it from the best. Here,” Joe offers up one of the two bagels from the bag. 

The two of you settle back onto the bench, the bagel and coffee do help--they give you something else to focus on. You chew slowly, trying to find a reason to drag out the task so that it takes longer, so that time doesn’t feel like it’s taunting you. 

Joe is quiet next to you, relaxed though as he reclines back, into the cold metal. The food rests inside the bag on the bench, a small few inch gap between the two of you. “How long is the surgery supposed to take?” Joe questions around his sip of coffee breaking the cycle of crackling paper as you work more and more of the bagel down. 

“Three hours max, I was told.”

His hand is warm, even in the cold, on your knee. “I hope you’re okay with being stuck with me for the next two hours then.”

“No one else I’d rather be stuck with.”

You polish the bagel off in another two bites and the second, you get it down, a simple glazed donut is extended out to your resting every so gently on a brown napkin. An offering even in the cold Cleveland morning. Joe’s smile is soft and you think if you could see his eyes, he’d have the crinkled skin next to his eyes at how he smiles, just the faintest hint of his teeth showing. “Hungry, huh?”

“I was fasting in solidarity.” But you know it’s a lie. A nervous stomach is a blessing and a curse. 

“Sure you were. If I had known that, I would’ve gotten half a dozen.”

“Oh, that’s too many,” you laugh before you take a sip of your coffee. The glaze of the donut crumples around your bite-the chaser to the bitter beans. 

“I don’t know the way you’re destroying that donut says otherwise.”

With the final bites of the sugary confection consumed, you flip Joe off. He only laughs in exchange before placing the trash into the metal bin next to him. The only remnants of his breakfast offering are the cups of coffee and a singular donut in the box. 

“How many people are allowed in?” Joe asks, nodding towards the doors. 

You know the policy is only you, considering when the hospital called to confirmed with your mother about how many people were waiting with her, she only said you. But you’re not about to let Joe go, now that he’s here you think about all those loose threads that would just come undone again. 

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.” You hope that older security guard is still there at his post. 

“I don’t want to get you in trouble. I have a room a couple blocks away and I can always find something to do until she can accept visitors.”

“You-you have a room?”

Joe nods. “Three nights, just in case you needed an extra set of hands. I do have to fly out for an event on Thursday, or else I’d stay until your mom’s cleared to go back to Cincinnati.”

“And were you ever going to tell me?”

“When I showed up today. So, yes.”

You slip the straps of your backpack onto your shoulders, collected the box and your coffee before nodding for Joe to follow. “My nose is going to freeze off.”

“Seriously, if it’s just you, I’ll go find something and you can just--”

The words to his sentence don’t ever get the chance to finish crossing his lips. You balance your coffee cup on the box and pull him up off the bench, fingers now laced together as you start towards the automatic doors. 

The security officer raises a brow at you when you enter with Joe behind you. But you thank the heavens for the 3rd donut. You can feel the reprimand wafting off the older man’s face. No words need to be exchanged. “What if I said he’s my husband?” you suggest, not wanting to play your entire hand. 

His lips press together in his disappointment until you crack open the box and reveal the last remaining glazed donut. “Well, it’s a good thing that’s your husband. But I must admit, Mr. Burrow, you’re going to need a better disguise than that. I’d suggest a balloon arrangement or a big teddy bear from our gift shop.”

You slide over the last remaining donut, inside of the box. Joe produces his ID when asked, adding on, “Thank you for the tip, sir.”

“Any time, son. Thanks for being there for them.”

Joe makes a detour after you get settled back into an unnaturally cushioned seat. When he returns, he has balloons and a teddy bear, thick and large, but it does hide him mostly well. The collection does well, secluding the two of you away. Joe asks about your D&D campaign, about work--though only so many things can happen at a dentist office. You ask him about the offseason, the fashion event he has at the end of the week, how his family is doing. 

It’s a sea of calmness, a whispered exchange as the remaining two hours pass by. The kind of calm that follows behind you, up from the recovery to her overnight room, still thanking God for every prayer that was answered that the surgery went without problems. There’s no suspected impact to vocal chords, but only time would tell on that front. You and Joe are settled into the room and though she wakes briefly, you can tell that anesthesia still makes her sluggish. 

“Now who got this big ass bear?” 

The question is uttered so softly, but you catch it, your head pressed into a pillow against the railing of your mother’s bed. Joe laughs from the foot of her bed. The two of you zeroed in on the TV in a rather silent agreement to allow your mother to rest as much as possible. A feat not easily accomplished given the nurses that come by every hour on the hour to check vitals. 

You reach for the cup of water left behind and hold it up for her. Her sip is slow, measured as she works to see if she can get the sip down. You watch too, knowing the doctor’s been worried about that too. But she nods and you put the cup back down onto the tray, next to the bear. 

“That would be me,” Joe returns, pushing up from the second single armchair. His smile is easy as he takes your mother’s left hand. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” she smiles back at him. 

“Of course. I was told I could sneak you in outside food. So if a craving hits just let me know. If not, there’s the old pudding standby.”

Her eyes cut and you see the question. “It is a legitimate offer. We have to make sure it’s soft food,” you answer. But then the gaze narrows and you know now what she’s really asking. “I sweet talked a security officer and he agreed that Joe's my husband temporarily.”

Her chuckle shakes her, but your mother’s eyes dance with her amusement. You shouldn’t feel the buzz, the rush at the words, but you do and when you cast a glance up to Joe, his gaze is soft on you, tender in a way you hadn’t seen in Joe in years. Like he wants to say something, but he eventually shakes his head and looks back down to your mother. 

It’s a crazy thought. You know you shouldn’t give it much thought, but you do. You wonder if he felt dizzy at the words too. 

[sstormyskyess]

omg 16 with poly tf141 would be the greatest thing ever reader brings not one, not two, but four huge beefcakes home to their shitty families holiday party that they only throw to show off their fancy house and shitty interior design, I know that probably wasn't the original idea of the prompt but if you're interested I'd love to see you write it thank you!

Family Affairs

author's note: i actually got to pull from personal experience with this one tbh, i’m gonna have to go to a party like this near the end of the year. unfortunately, i don’t have four beefcakes to bring with me 😔 at least i can imagine it though! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!!

cw: poly tf 141, general fluffy stuff, reader has a big family [just like me, i have 14 members in my extended family just on my dad’s side]

word count: 1800+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You were hoping, praying that you weren't going to get that one little text message that always spelled disaster no matter when it came across your phone screen. It had been a good run, too; you hadn’t suffered this fate in a good few years. But, apparently that winning streak was too good to be true.

You look at the notification on your screen again, re-reading it for about the third time. ‘We hope to see you at the party this year! P.S., please bring your boyfriend along this time, your aunt won’t drop it,’ the message from your mom read. Boyfriend. Little did she know, you in fact had four boyfriends, none of which had met your frustratingly nosy family.

Speak of the devil—or, one of them at least—John walks into the common area, a stack of papers in his hand. “Morning, love.” He shoots you a smile before focusing his attention back on the documents he was scanning. “What’s on your mind?” He takes a seat in the chair opposite you, leaning back and crossing his legs, one ankle on the other leg’s knee.

You think for a bit before sighing. “Off-base things. Family stuff.” It’s clear he was unsatisfied with your vague answer when he met your eyes with a raised brow. You huff, knowing you wouldn’t get away with dancing around the issue for even a moment. “My mom wants me to bring a boyfriend back for my aunt’s holiday party.”

John continues to look at you, his air gone from stern to confused within a second. “You do have a boyfriend. Four of them, actually.” He tilts his head as he states the obvious. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “I know that. I just don’t wanna subject any of you to the torture that is being at those pointless parties.”

He just smiles at you again, his eyes returning to whatever was on the papers in his lap. “Maybe we’ll make it better for you. I’m sure the rest of our boys will be glad to accompany you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the prospect. Frankly, it did sound like a good idea on the surface; it would be nice to spend some down time with all the people you love, after all. After another few moments of thought, you nod and stand up from your chair. “You’ve got a point. I’ll go talk to the others, then—see if they’ll be able to come with us.”

John hums in approval, catching your wrist as you walk past toward the door. “Hey. Come here.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him and appreciating the feeling of John’s hand coming up to the nape of your neck, his fingers rubbing a loose circle on your skin. “Things will be fine, darling,” he says after pulling away. “Don’t worry.”

A deep sense of dread starts to build inside of you as your mini convoy starts to approach your aunt’s house, which is technically more like a mansion based on the size of it. It had already set in the moment Simon convinced the others to let him drive. Yes, he got you to your destination way faster than any of the others would, but that was only because he drives like a maniac.

The dread slowly developing wasn’t caused by Simon almost getting everyone into a wreck at least two or three times, though. It was caused by the fact that you could already see your family’s cars lined up along the road and sitting in the driveway, memories of past parties flooding your head.

Kyle beside you must notice the way you’ve started shrinking into yourself and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to kiss you on the cheek. “I’m excited to meet your family, sweetheart.” An underlying joy is hidden in his voice, which brings a small smile to your face. “You sure?” You chuckle, leaning into him. “They can be a lot.”

“I’ve dealt with worse, no need to worry.” He ensures you, pressing a couple more kisses to your temple and your forehead. Your cheeks warm and you push his face away. “Stop it,” you say playfully.

Johnny helps you out of the car and wraps an arm around your waist when Ghost pulls over to park his car on the side of the street. “Who do you think is gonna be the favorite?” He asks with a grin on his face. You hum, tapping your chin and feigning deep thought. “Probably John. And not you, the responsible John.”

Johnny scoffs, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. “I am responsible! Can’t believe you would say such a thing!” You simply pull him closer and kiss him on the cheek, giggling under your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me—” You’re cut off by him giving you a big kiss on the lips. “Fine, you’re forgiven.” He gives you his bright smile, the one that reaches his eyes and crinkles the corners of them.

Simon walks past and tugs on Johnny’s sleeve, pulling him forward. “Get moving, Johnny.” He grunts, dragging him along and taking you with him in turn.”We’re coming, we’re coming,” Johnny huffs.

You take a deep breath once you reach the front door of your aunt’s house, amping yourself up to face the music head-on. You feel John’s comforting hand between your shoulder blades and you smile, his silent support soothing your nerves and giving you the courage to ring the doorbell, officially sealing your fate. No going back now.

Surprisingly, the night was actually going well. Just like John said, being able to sit in-between two of your ruggedly handsome partners while the other two were pulling your aunt’s attention away from you was massively more comfortable compared to your other experiences in this house.

Johnny and Simon, seated next to you on either side, chatted with a couple members of your extended family while Kyle was off in the kitchen making a plate of hors d'oeuvres for you, and John was busy entertaining your aunt and mother with various war stories from his yesteryears. It seemed like everyone was having a blast, their easy smiles contagious.

You look up when Kyle sits in the armchair next to the loveseat you, Simon and Johnny were posted up on. You grin when he presents you with a small plate full of various meats and cheeses. He kisses your hand as you reach over and take the plate from him, making your face heat up. You shoot him a pointed look, but he flashes his pretty smile in return. You can’t possibly stay mad at that smile—I mean, have you seen it? You just shake your head, unable to mask the flustered look on your face.

Your grandmother looks away from her conversation with Johnny and turns her attention to Kyle. “Oh my! Who’s this lovely young man?” She listens intently as he introduces himself and then starts up her usual questioning whenever one of her grandbabies brought someone to meet the family.

You let out a long sigh, your senses already getting overwhelmed after the past hour or so of entertaining the party with your boys. You start to pick at your hors d'oeuvres, building a little stack of what looked like some sort of salami and a piece of cheese on a cracker, popping it in your mouth. 

Simon’s hand comes into your downturned gaze and rests on your leg, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze, a silent check-in. You cover his hand with yours, looking up at him and smiling, effectively quelling his concerns. He nods and intertwines his fingers with yours, an affectionate glint in his gaze. You return the look wholeheartedly and let him pull his hand away to rest in his lap.

You glance up when you hear your name being called across the room and see John and your mother looking over at you. She beckons you over and you sigh, standing up and starting to head over to the two of them. You jump when Johnny’s hand pats the back of your thigh a couple times, smirking up at you. You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet ‘stop that,’ trying to hide the fact that your heart skipped a beat at the smug look on his face.

John wraps an arm around your waist once you get close enough, his hand petting up and down your side. “Your mother wants to know how we met,” he explains. Your mother pipes up, “I also want to know why you were hiding these lovely men from the family for so long.” She gives you a look. The look. You groan, running a hand over your face. “Of course, mom.”

“I’ve no idea why you were so worried about tonight, bonnie. It was perfectly fine!” Johnny pulls you down to the couch in the living room of the house you and the others had bought recently, his arms tight around you. He held you in place to pepper kisses all over your face. You try to push his face away so you can actually respond to his comment; the effort was futile, but after a few pushes he pulls away on his own. “It seems like they were on their best behavior since you four showed up with me. You’re all pretty imposing, to be fair,” you say, leaning back against Johnny’s chest.

Simon walks in with a handful of mugs filled with warm spiced apple cider, passing them around the room and then sitting in his armchair, his legs crossed loosely. He notices your eyes on him and raises a brow. “You talking about me?” You laugh and shake your head. “Not just you, silly.”

Kyle catches the tail end of the conversation after coming downstairs in his lounging clothes, sitting next to John on the loveseat opposite the couch Johnny had you buried in. “I’m sure it was mostly you, Simon.” He grins, leaning into John’s side. You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m sure most of my family was intimidated by your dashingly handsome looks, good sir.”

John rests his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck. “That’s a good point, darling,” he smirks, taking note of the bashful look that crosses Kyle’s features. He hides his smile by taking a sip from his mug.

“Hopefully your family feels a bit more comfortable around us next year, yeah?” John takes a sip of cider from his own mug, before setting it down on the coffee table and picking up the remote to put something on the TV, probably some shitty holiday movie. The exact kind that he likes.

You hum and hold your warmed up mug in your lap, happily cuddling up with Johnny. “Yeah, hopefully.” There’s a brief pause before you realize what he just said and the implications of it. “Wait—next year?” And once again, that signature sense of dread hits you and you groan, knowing you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[d4isyr1dleys]

obsession, auston matthews

ꨄ︎ pairing: stepbro!auston matthews x reader

ꨄ︎ summary: he's a man obsessed, his mind replays any and every interaction he's had the honor to have with you. because let's face it, in his mind, you are more than just his step-sister, you are a goddess in his eyes. and who is he to not steal something for his earnings?

ꨄ︎ requested: yes/no

ꨄ︎ warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of dark(?), mentions of smut (like barely any, in my eyes), stepcest (do not condone, in fact, am highly against it), auston's lowkey got a god complex, a hint of reader being innocent, implied age gap (reader is 18!)

ꨄ︎ author's note: it's been so long since i've written anything and im so insecure in this so please love it! (give me validation). a self indulgent auston blurb (?) that came to mind when i saw this slutty little edit of him. please forgive me for any grammar mistakes to typos, for i wrote this while i was saying hello to my friend mary jane. much love to every one of you who decides to read this mess of a story, and shall we meet again!🤍

he should've felt disgusted with himself. his skin should be crawling with his current demeanor. the hairs in the back of his neck should be standing up straight when the idea briefed over his mind during the excruciating quiet family dinner that your parents force you guys to have nightly.

but he wasn't.

in fact, he was quite proud of himself, with how far he's gotten into this 'plan' of his. here he was, in the midst of the day while you were at school, attending your one out of only three classes you had to attend your senior year, standing in the middle of your bedroom.

he had taken the afternoon off, canceling his strength training, his excuse being that he was sick. along with his place of employment he texted you, the one thing that had been occupying his mind ever since he laid eyes on you. your parents having you guys meet, thus starting his obsession.

to their shock, neither of you were angry when your father announced that they had eloped. both of you sat across from the newly weds in a low light restaurant, with pristine christmas ornaments hanging from the ceiling. a little annoyed, maybe; at least you were. you never got the chance to ask him how he felt about the whole ordeal. but from what you could see, he was perfectly contempt with the major life change.

he shifts in your room, walking backwards until the back of his calfs hit the edge of you bed, causing him to plop down harshly with an anticipated huff. your pure vanilla sent traveled to his nostrils, and himself becoming encapsulated with only you. his hands laid stoic along the tops of his thighs, even though he wanted nothing more than to palm himself through his pants. he was already half hard, just by your scent.

his eyes lingered to your nightstand, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips at just how perfectly girly it was. a picture of you laughing with your friends in your camp counselor shirt from the past summer, your forgotten airpods, which he thought about how irritated you were when you figured that out, a small pout on your lips. god, he wanted nothing more than to feel yours against his.

he would be happy if it was just on his cheek, as a thankful gesture.

as he admired your dimples through the glass of the picture frame, he could help but let curiosity get the best of him. that's how he got here in the first place, right? his eyes trailed down to the drawer that was painted a darker color than the rest of the dresser, to perfectly match the rest of your room.

he hoped one day he could see if your room truly matched you– light perfectly balanced with dark. he already knew the light part was too good to be true, with your big eyes that light up at the sight of him, but only enough that he would notice. the way you blush if he gets too close to you, not that he creeps you out or anything, but the fact that it was a man besides your dad that was this close to you. even if it was your step brother.

you didn't know why you felt this way around auston, you didn't know what made him different from any other boy you thought was pretty. bust auston was so, so, pretty that you couldn't help but redirect your eyes to your shoes when he caught your burning gaze. your skin burned from what seemed like hour from when he would place his hands on your waist to 'move you out of the way'. and it had only grown with time, with how nice he is to you and the names he calls you that he doesn't seem to do with anyone else. 'princess', 'baby', or even 'doll' when he's showing you how to swing a golf club, on those rare, rare, days when he could finally persuade you to come with him to the country club just down the street. he even bought you your own little golf girl outfit, all baby pink and white, to perfectly match the picture of you he has implemented into his mind.

and you had thought you were going to look ridiculous, and you did, until you saw the way he looked at you as you walked down stairs where he was waiting for you. a certain glint was in his eyes the entire day, and you couldn't help but squirm in the passengers seat as he was driving. trying to descreetly press your thighs together to at least try to ease the pressure and throbbing that was happening down there. you didn't know what caused the throbbing but it was so strange and unfamiliar that you couldn't help but sniffle lightly, suppressing a whine at how uncomfortable you felt. but you didn't completely hate it. especially not when auston was right next to you, his large frame blocking the street lights that passed by through his window, his side profile creating the perfect tattoo of a shadow on your face, one that you didn't want to go away.

of course he had noticed his little girl writhing around in the passenger seat of his car. her soft thighs pressing against each other, all supple and smooth from imperfections. he needed to be suffocated by them, the image he wanted to die from was your shaking body from all the pleasure he was causing you, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as he sucked you clit in between his full lips.

he had completely forgotten he was in heaven, (your room), when he felt the pulse from his balls that he was about the cum, all from the thoughts of your innocence and his hand that found his hard on cock through his sweatpants. he didn't want to do that yet, not without the one thing that caused him to be here in the first place.

the most obvious place would be the dresser, so he head towards that area of your room, placed right next to your closet. and surprise, surprise! the top drawer just happened to be your underwear drawer. all filed with pale colored bras and panties, not that they were old, but because those were the colors you loved; all muted and quiet, instead of vibrant and loud. you was shocked you had some lace and he would've gone for those, but that's not what he was going for.

his mind craved something less out there and more reserved. something that he had seen tossed in the washer with his colored laundry load, a pair of your painted that were red with white little hearts scattered across the cotton material. a throaty groan came from his as he felt his cock twitch, being retrained by the boxers and pants he wore.

he could only imagine your ass being perfect covered in white little hearts, or even getting a glimpse of them as you sit down next to him on the couch in the living room after a long day at school. your school uniform only urging on his obsession– a short little navy blue pleaded skirt with thigh high socks, and the cutest little best he had ever seen. the way the thick knitted wool spread across the curves of your breasts.

god, he was nothing but a man obsessed.

[maoam]

What do you think of itafushi and satosugu?

Ah I think I was asked about this before but back then my opinion was very non-opinion. Because I hadn't gotten that deep into the series yet. I also answered an ask about satosugu earlier.

I will say that they complement each other very well. They understand each other better than other characters, like I don't believe that something like Gojo not realising how bad Geto's state was until it was too late would happen with Yuuji and Megumi because they seem to figure each other out pretty well. Gege also did draw parallels between Geto-Gojo and Yuuji-Megumi duos. But that's not something I'm gonna focus on here.

(Manga spoilers up to chapter 266 ahead!)

Yuuji and Megumi's relationship is deeply intervowen into the text of the manga itself. The fact Megumi chose to save Yuuji despite the fact it put more people at risk is what sort of started everything. And the actions of the two impact each others development.

Todo was asking Megumi about his type, and when he is not hearing an answer he adds that it's fine if he prefers men. Why is this needed here? Gege is not making a joke, like a homophobic joke some average dudebro author would make because a male character is taking his time to answer, where said male character then gets offended and the audience laughs. Todo is very chill, it's a non-issue for him. Megumi is also not shown to be offended or even phased at the implication. Well there is no joke, so why did this need to be added? To imply. To hint. To put the idea in the reader's head. And then Megumi answers and uses 'person' instead of a girl/woman. Also the fact many male characters seem to point out Megumi's cuteness/attractiveness makes it even more obvious that Gege seems to like the idea of Megumi being 'available' to both men and women. Obviously women think he's cute as well but that's sort of given.

Megumi's type is someone who has an 'unshakeable character' according to a translator I asked about it. I once read another person say it's 'unwavering humanity'. This translator said this goes with Yuuji's name. Regardless, Yuji's name has 'unwavering/unshakeable benevolence/compassion/humanity' so whether the word refers to unshakeable humanity or character, both fit Yuji and the type clearly is a nod to his name. Which many translators have pointed out.

However when asked about his type, Megumi thought of Tsumiki.

Before that, when Yuuji "died" Megumi was imagining Tsumiki on a field surrounded by countless sunflowers. Now we know Gege is aware of hanakotoba, since he mentioned the meanings of both white lilies and black lilies in the manga, and he drew them around Tsumiki, to reference her innocence/purity (white lily) and the fact she was cursed (black lily). Sunflowers apparently symbolise passionate love, and the more sunflowers, the more intense the love is. 11 sunflowers is true love, 108 sunflowers is marry me etc. So there is that implication that Megumi's feelings for Tsumiki might be not completely familiar... Megumi is someone with abandonment issues, because his mom died and his dad left. So he has low self esteem and doesn't value his life. But he had Tsumiki. And he developed that intense need to protect her and care for her. In Jujutsu Sousen which is the prototype for jjk, Yuuji also mistook Tsumiki for Megumi's girlfriend, and Megumi's reply was that "well, she is someone important to me". Megumi did everything for her happiness' sake, which is why he lost all hope and will when she died.

Gege also drew Yorozu and Sukuna in their bodies, with Yorozu acting the way she did towards Sukuna and talking about 'love' as a sort of dark humour.

Yet, I do see that Megumi has a soft spot for Yuuji.

Megumi tries to come up with ways for Yuuji to live, while Yuuji tries to come up with ways to die. I noticed Megumi is a bit tsundere because he's not that smooth about comforting another person, so he comes off a bit mad like here, calling Yuuji selfish for caring about him, haha. Which is kind of call back for Megumi saying his decision to save Yuuji was a selfish decision?

Back to Tsumiki.

It feels like in the absence of Tsumiki, Megumi started to look for Yuuji as someone to idealize, as someone who to learn from. That mission where he took the criminal's badge to give to his mom, that action is something he wouldn't have done without Yuuji's influence. And in this moment above he's thinking about both of their genuine, sweet smiles, placing them next to each other in his mind. Yuuji has in a short time become someone important to him. But it's very telling how his type of people in his mind are Tsumiki and Yuuji. It's not even subtle from Gege.

And as I said it seems like Megumi has a bit of a soft spot for Yuuji.

Which is why Yuuji has this effect on Megumi. I never see Megumi melt like this as a response to other people. It's like Yuuji gets through his defenses.

Here's the tsundere again. Megumi shows his care with certain level of aggression because like I said, he's not the smoothest person around.

Even when he's about to die, he thinks about Yuuji. I do think it makes sense that someone like Yuuji has become so important to him in such a short time. Because he's Megumi's type of person.

And I also noticed that whenever Megumi smiles in the manga, it's either due to him making progress as a sorcerer or it's because of something related to Yuuji.

It's the framing here how Gege does the little smile that I find interesting.

Of course there's also this moment where we see a very genuine Megumi smiling. This moment is very important because it was even used in the recent MV with Yuuji, Megumi and Sukuna. I think Megumi's connection to both is very important to the conclusion of the story.

Notice how I talked mostly about Megumi? Because the differences in his behaviour are easier to notice, compared to Yuuji's "I get along with everyone" personality. Obviously, Yuuji does like Megumi a lot, as we see in the previous images he easily gives him compliments like calling him reliable and smart (or even cute when teasing him with Hana lol) and he is also very protective of Megumi.

What's funny is that the last moment immediately reminded me of Naruto and Sasuke's dynamic in the land of waves. It's identical (please don't kill me narusasus who dislike itafushi and itafushis who dislike narusasu). I also think he really does admire Megumi and immediately notices him first out of all the other people (like with Ozawa and Nobara). And just like Yuuji influences Megumi, Megumi influences Yuuji, and makes him think outside of his own mindset "what if someone you saved killed someone else in the future?". They both also acknowledge each others differences and respect them.

I don't think his answer to Todo (I mean he seemed unsure in his answer too) or his comment about Jennifer Lawrence are necessarily dealbreakers considering this is Gege lol. Gege seems to make Yuuji indecisive, like how he couldn't answer the question whether he prefers dogs or cats because he's unsure, or how he says "I guess" when referring to his type of girl. He says 'tall girl' but when actually tall girls that fit his supposed type show up like Ozawa and Yuki, he doesn't show that kind of interest in them. I'm not saying he can't like girls by the way, I'm just saying Gege hasn't shown Yuuji show genuine interest in women unlike for example Horikoshi has with Deku. With Yuji it's a one-note joke, with Deku we actually see him show attraction.

But the reason why I point these things out is because Gege is very particular about Megumi's character, to the point his editor commented on it, so I don't think he would draw things for no reason. If Yuuji is the only person that makes the usually stoic Megumi smile and if he manages to melt down Megumi's worried/distressed side then that is something important, since Gege feels the need to repeat these situations. Author intent is always important. However I know some people probably aren't fans of this but Gege is clearly very fixated on the connection between Megumi and Sukuna as well. Possibly even more so. They have a lot of connections that would need their own post. I talked a bit about Megumi and Sukuna here but it's not even close to being everything you could write about Gege's writing concerning them. Also, Yuuji and Sukuna can't stand each other and are currently pretty much fighting over Megumi (lol). I don't think Megumi will stay passive though, as we see in this recent chapter, he is fighting back. But it's something to think about.

And in this recent chapter, Megumi is once again placing Yuuji and Tsumiki next to each other, imagining a calm, relaxed life with them. I already imagined that one of the character image songs Gege chose for Megumi , Weezer's 'Island in the Sun' was just about having fun with Yuuji and I was right!

Yuuji dares to finally admit he needs Megumi too. And Megumi's comment 'Someone like you'... Megumi really does place Yuuji high, and I think people are starting to see it. Yuuji makes him happier and more relaxed. And the fact he lost all will to live, yet regained it because Yuuji would be lonely without him, speaks volumes as well. And to Yuuji Megumi is also a special person. I don't know if there will be a happy ending for them, but they definitely changed each others lives.

[soft-pine]

spn20rewatch: 1.11 scarecrow

LOVE OF MY LIFE EPISODE OF ALL TIMES

first off, TUMMY!!!

second, we get some all time banger dean lines:

"i don't understand they're going to kill us?" / "sacrifice us. which is, i don't know, classier, i guess."

"i hope your apple pie is freakin worth it!"

lastly, scarecrow sets in place and affirms threads that will literally carry us through the entire rest of the show.

in the pilot john leaves dean coordinates for his next hunt. in 1.04, they find john has turned his phone back on (but isn't answering it and is directing people to dean). in 1.10 john texts dean a case and now in 1.11, he calls!

to dean, i think, this means he's been doing good. working the cases john sends and not getting distracted trying to hunt john down. he follows orders and in exchange is rewarded with slightly more contact.

sam, on the other hand, is angry. he's mad at john for not telling him what's going on. he's mad at john for not letting him help hunt the demon that killed jessica. he's mad at dean for just wanting to do what john says and not pushing back.

the whole time sam is on the phone with john, dean is desperately trying to get it. he wakes up shirtless (vulnerable) but almost immediately, he's fumbling to get a shirt on (armor) while reaching for the phone.

to me, nothing will ever beat dean's worried, "dad, it's me. where are you?" to him straightening his shoulders and going, "yes, Sir," in like three seconds.

the case john sends them to is a town sacrificing couples to a prosperity god brought over from europe when settlers colonized indiana.

in the car on the way, sam gets so mad at how dean's just wanting to follow john's orders and be "a good son" that he pulls the car over and leaves. so dean investigates burkittsville on his own and ends up being kidnapped and left by the townspeople as one half of the annual sacrifice. emily, the antagonists' niece is chosen as the other sacrifice.

the layers here are so dense! because, well, first off, we have dean paired with a woman who he is very friendly with but has absolutely no romantic interest in. but this coerced "couple" is what the townspeople intend to feed their fertility god in order to continue their vision of the colonial project. dean is both forced into the costume of heterosexuality and sacrificed for the american dream. this is maybe my favorite theme in spn.

however, rather than romantic partners, emily and dean are in fact mirrors. one of emily's first conversations with dean is about her love for her aunt and uncle and the town. and it echoes dean's compliments of john's work putting together the case file and in general, dean's desire to be a good son.

EMILY: Everybody’s nice here. DEAN: So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town? EMILY: Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed. 

DEAN: Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.

but this all sours. emily's family is not nice. in fact, they try to kill her. and not only that - they tell her to just go along with it, to do as she's told. in essence, just to be a good niece.

what does this mean for a story where we know john has used his kids - and especially dean - as bait? where 1.02 finds them following instructions from john which result in dean kidnapped and nearly eaten before he and sam agree he should play the obviously well-worn role as bait. it makes me think of 1.16 when john says he showed up just in time to see meg fall out the window. but is that true? how do we know he wasn't there watching sam and dean tied up and toyed with?

it certainly wouldn't be the first time john has sat in the shadows while leaving his kids in the line of site for the monster. 1.18, 1.20, and 15.16 show that much. (and i really need to stop talking about every episode while just discussing one (and im going to do a whole post about the finale soon) but when i tell you the vamp case in 15.20 that they pick up was one john was working in 86 when dean was 7. and the pattern was the vamps were going after kids between 5-10 who were isolated and living at the edge of town....)

in 2.14, meg (possessing sam) is forcing jo to talk through what she knows about her dad's death.

JO: Our dads were in California: Devil's Gate Reservoir. They were setting a trap for some kind of hellspawn. John was hiding, waiting, and my dad was bait. MEG!SAM: That's just like John. Oh, I'll bet he dangled Bill like meat on a hook. Then what?

that line eats at me. "like meat on a hook" because see the thing is...

stacy, emily's aunt, tearfully tries to console her twice throughout the episode. she knows it's hard and emily's scared but stacy begs her to understand, it's for the common good. when emily is tied to the apple tree, crying and begging, stacy gently strokes a strand of emily's hair, trying to soothe her.

STACY: Try to understand. It’s our responsibility. And there’s just no other choice. There’s nobody else but you. EMILY: I’m your family. STACY: Sweetheart, that’s what sacrifice means. Giving up something you love for the greater good. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one. 

it reminds me of the conversation john has with dean in the hospital at the end of 2.01. the theme of family and sacrifice and the greater good. and no other choice. and nobody else but you. the gentle cruelty.

HARLEY: It’ll be over quickly, I promise.

JOHN: Don't be scared, Dean.

[treason-and-plot]

[previous]

After they've finished eating, Roy and Alec invite Anita and Renee to join them on the lounge. The resident pianist is playing some jaunty jazz tunes and several diners have migrated to the stage to dance. Alec buys Anita a Simsmapolitan and Renee a piña colada from the Hot Bartender, which Anita accepts with a flurry of giggling protestations.

"Thank you Alec, but please don't buy me any more drinks after this," she says. "I'm already feeling quite woozy from the champagne."

"You will have as many drinks as it takes me to get Hot Bartender's phone number," says Alec. "That's the deal. And it is not open to negotiation."

"Let's hope he's playing hard to get, then," says Renee, raising her glass.

"Speaking of hot bartenders, did Joël tell you he quit working at The Grind?" says Anita to Roy, who isn't drinking because he has an important meeting to attend in an hour's time.

"Yeah, he texted me yesterday," says Roy. "He said he's going to be a stay-at-home-dad. And that you were going back to work full-time. Is that true? Or was he just yanking my chain?"

“S’ true,” says Anita. “I was upset at first, but I’ve accepted it now. And I have to admit that he’s much better with Alice than me. I mean, she still wakes up two or three times a night and he always gets up and settles her with no complaints whatsoever. And he reads and plays with her for hours…I mean, after ten minutes of playing with the xylophone or building blocks I’m bored out of my wits. So it kind of makes sense that I should go back to work.”

“Joël is an absolute saint,” says Renee.

“Please never tell him this, but I’m kind of envious of him, to be honest,” Roy says to Anita. “I really miss my kids since I moved back into the apartment. Just living in the same house, seeing them at breakfast, helping them with homework, tucking them in at night…it was magical. It’s something you should never take for granted, Neets.”

Anita takes a long sip of her drink while she searches for a response.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a drink, Roy?” she says. “I’m not used to hearing you sound so…so serious.”

“I’m fine,” he says. “I have to make tracks and get back to the office for this meeting, anyway. It’s just….Jesus. Alec, what are you doing?"

While he and Anita have been talking Renee and Alec have been getting very cozy, his arm around her shoulders.

“Would you like to dance, Madame?” Alec asks Renee. “I think it's time I showed Hot Bartender what he's missing out on."

“I thought you’d never ask,” giggles Renee, her fingernails scraping his thigh.