#okay I know why he did the conferences

[cyrenescreams]

Red tornado had the correct response to yj98 annoyance and then he set up parent teacher conferences only to attempt to help but those teenagers did not listen at all

[homielander]

like yeah of course tom thinks shiv is a scorpion because he doesn't know she compromised her position and sacrificed her brother so he wouldn't go to prison. he doesn't know she refused to divulge any information about cruises to gil in season 1 before she was certain tom would walk away unscathed. he doesn't know she shut down her brothers' offer to fire him, doesn't know she ensured he'd have a place in the company post-acquisition, doesn't know that the first time she indelicately interrogated matsson about whether she'd have any power and influence at waystar gojo was literally immediately after matsson brought up the idea of firing tom. and it's her fault he doesn't know that she's protected him at nearly every turn because she won't tell him. and it's looking more likely with every passing episode that he'll never know 😔🔫

[pseudowho]

It was an average Monday morning when you, Nanami Kento's wife, were turned into a cat.

"An unusual Curse," Shoko had said, "not longer than a week, surely--"

"Not--not longer than a week?!" Kento spluttered, his glasses lopsided, and, dangled in front of him beneath the arms (legs-- legs, he reminded himself)...you.

You, with two pointed ears, a long whippy tail, your many toe-beans and a perturbed little head-tilt. On the doctors' office couch, a neatly folded (if a little furry) pile of your clothes.

"Meow," you had said.

"Don't 'meow' me," Kento spluttered again, fixing you with a stern look that barely overlaid his concern. You simply stared up at him, long, and feline, and unblinking...and reached out one little paw, pressing it onto the end of his nose.

Kento sighed; a bone-deep, weary sigh. Shoko put out her cigarette, speaking through a haze of smoke.

"Like I said. Give it a week, and Mrs.Nyanyami will be back to nor--"

"What did you just call her?'

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Mrs.Nyanyami, the cat formerly known as Nanami Kento's wife, wanted for nothing.

"I think that tuna's more expensive than anything I've ever eaten," whispered Yuuji to Gojo. On the other side of the conference room, you sat upon the desk before Kento, waiting patiently for the next lump of tuna (meticulously cut into cat-appropriate cubes) to be delivered in his chopsticks.

As Kento's hand approached, you held it close with paw and claws, to steal the pink fish from him. He looked like a surgeon performing heart surgery.

"I just...dont know how he can look so serious while he's doing that," Gojo whispered back, to Yuuji's frantic nods. Still, they watched this freakish nature documentary with quiet obsession.

A higher-up sat down beside Kento, waiting for the meeting to begin. Jolting back, and grumbling, he did a double take.

"Young man-- you can't bring a cat to a Sorcerer's meeting--"

"That's not a cat," Kento snapped, frosty, "that's my wife."

And so began the rumour amongst the higher-ups, that Nanami Kento had gone mad.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You should leave her at home--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--really, Nanami...just put the television on, she'll be fine--"

"--unequivocally, no--"

"--why not?!"

Silence. An awkward shuffle on Kento's thick chest. You peeked your head out of the pocket of the cat-carrying hoodie that Kento wore over his shirt and tie, and turned to Gojo with narrowed eyes.

"Meow," you had said, batting at Kento's strings, and hooking his tie out with your paw, to kick it to death with your legs.

"I agree," said Kento, whispering and scratching you beneath the chin until you purred, "he's wrong, isn't he? Stupid Gojo. You'd get lonely. You'd get bored. Yes you would..."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Oh my god...he's gorgeous...you should get his number--"

"--I'm not brave enough...you go. I'll get our coffees."

"--okay, okay..." The woman cleared her throat, sweeping her hair behind one ear with her best smile. Kento looked up from his coffee, with one finely raised eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" He lied, unwilling to help anyone at all before he'd finished his croissant.

"Hi, yeah, I just...can't help but notice you're sitting alone, and my friend-- well she-- she just wondered if she can have your number, and--"

The woman broke off into shrieks. Climbing up her leg, all claws and furry vengeance, was you. She shook her leg, shrieking. You hissed. Your cup of steamed milk clattered over the table, slopping everywhere.

"--o-oh my god-- oh my god, what the hell is this cat doi--"

"I'm sorry," Kento sighed, not sorry at all and dabbing his mouth with a napkin and doing absolutely nothing to help, "it's my cat. She doesn't like company--"

Hisses. Claws. Dirty feral yowls.

"Get this fucking thing off me--"

"I can't take you anywhere. No more steamed milk for you."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

At times, you seemed so human. At others, undeniably cat.

Kento would wake to clattering from the kitchen, bleary and feeling around for you, only to remember, and trace his hand up to the furry, round little patch you'd leave behind on your pillow. He allowed himself just a moment of misery, before getting up.

He followed the sounds of cups and kettle and coffee machine, and leaned against the doorway with sleep-mussed hair and a squinting, teenagerish glare.

You were up on the counter, all four paws and determination. You had gotten as far as switching the kettle and coffee machine on, and heaving the cupboard open with your tiny limbs. Kento watched as you tipped your head sideways, managing to drag two mugs out in your teeth. He winced as they almost smashed upon the counter.

"Come on," Kento rumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, "let me do that."

You meowed at him, batting at the air with one angry paw when he stepped closer. Kento huffed, raising his hands in surrender.

"Fine," he tutted, "but I'll pour the water."

"Meow."

"Why? Because you don't have opposable thumbs, darling."

The fur stood up along your spine. You turned around, and around, in a circle, then sat upright. You turned your back on him while you waited for the kettle to boil. Your tail flicked from side to side, irritable. Kento waited, too, reaching out one hand to stroke your ears.

You nudged your back paw out, and pushed his mug off the side to smash on the floor.

Silence.

"...what is wrong with y--"

"Meow."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Skitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

Kento groaned, rubbing down his face. He checked the clock, frog-blinking; two in the morning. He groaned harder.

Skitterskitterskitter.

Thunk.

More distant meows.

"Please just come back to bed," Kento moaned into the hands pressed over his face.

SkitterskitterskitterSKITTERSKITTER-- rustlllleerussstle--

Directly over his face.

"Meow--"

"I am begging you--"

RustlerustleTHNKskitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I miss you."

You raised your head to look at him. Your purring hitched. Your ears tilted.

Kento had murmured, his low voice barely audible. The only light in the living room was the ever-changing light of the television screen. Laid on his back on the sofa, with you curled on his chest, Kento stroked down your back with longing.

You crept up his chest, pressing your cold wet nose to his, and purred. Nose to nose, and cross-eyed, Kento could have cried.

"I really miss you," he repeated, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Your claws dug into his chest, just a little. You rub, rub, rubbed your warm furry head along his jaw until he sniffled, and gave a choked little chuckle.

He fell asleep with you on his chest that night. In so many ways, it was familiar; home. In so many others, you were gone forever.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Meow."

Kento shuffled. His chest felt heavy...warm. His belly felt warm, too. And his lap, and--

Kento's eyes shot open, his head lifting up from the couch.

You bit your lip, naked on top of him, and smiling. Human. An angel.

"Oh, my love," Kento moaned, crushing you to him in a bear hug from shoulder to toes, "you're back-- I missed you, I was so worrie--"

You batted an arm out, swiping last night's wine glass from the coffee table beside you, to shatter on the floor.

Silence. Kento blinked slowly, looking from the wine glass, to you. You felt your cheeks grow hot, swallowing hard.

"God, I...sorry, Kento. Force-- force of habit--"

Part Two linked here!

[buckyalpine]

You know what I was thinking of all day? Comforting our sad baby Bucky who just wants a hug. He's tired from a bad mission. His body aches. He saw things he didn't want to. He could really just use something.

Even just a smile?

He doesn't have a lot of friends and most people around the compound outside of the team avoid him. Even those who'd worked with him for ages were still wary, scared he'd snap if they just asked how he's doing. He would have liked it, even just a hello in passing. When he walks by with a scowl on his face, no one meets his eye. If they did, they would have seen the storm that was brewing inside was not an angry one.

He just needed to be held.

When he continues to make his way towards his room, he's given a few nods from a couple of teammates but he knows they're doing it while holding their breath. He reaches his room and the damn is about to break, he hasn't been held in years, he feels so cold and empty, was he really so terrifying, no one would-

"Sergeant Barnes?"

A gentle voice calls for him, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. He knows that voice, mustering his best smile as he turns around to find Tony's lab assistant with a cup of chamomile tea in his mug and a file with the mission report he was supposed to fill out.

"Everyone's filling their reports in the conference room, I figured you'd rather have some privacy so I thought I'd bring it to you" You give him the same warm smile you grace everyone with, handing him the steaming cup, "and of course, your favourite"

It's too much. Normally it wouldn't be but he's never given such kindness but he always gets it from you. You're so unbelievably affectionate to everyone and he really doesn't feel worthy but today he needs it so he graciously accepts the tea and file with a soft thank you.

"and call me Bucky, doll"

You stiffen at the slight crack in his voice, frowning when he keeps his eyes trained to the floor. It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep to himself but you catch his reddened nose and glassy baby blues and it breaks your heart.

He opens the door to enter his room ready to drown in a lonely storm when that voice calls again. Surely he was dreaming. He sets down his things, turning to find you still at his door.

"Bucky?" You enter his room, standing before him when he doesn't ask you to leave, "Are you okay?"

He doesn't trust himself, nodding and desperately blinking back tears. He wished you'd leave, he wished you'd stay, he wished he could just tell you what he needed, his hands fisted into balls by his side, he should just suck it up, what was he expecting-

"Come here" You whisper, your hand coming to cradle the back of his head, bringing it to rest into your neck where he can let go, your arms wrapping around his body.

Bucky doesn't get a chance to realize what's happening because as soon as he feels your touch the first sob escapes. He's hidden himself away in your hold, his tears wetting your skin with no remorse. He clings onto you like a lifeline while you coo and comfort him, playing with his hair and rubbing his back.

You don't let go, allowing him to cry for as long as he needs. Even after his cries turn into sniffles, you comfort him, pressing a kiss to his temple while he holds you extra tight.

When he's finally ready to let go, albeit reluctantly, he's instantly shused from trying to apologize. You don't ask questions asking what happened or why he was upset. It really didn't matter. You just knew. Bucky whispers a thank you, making a mental note to get you some flowers to properly showed you how much he appreciated it.

Of course you'd always just know when he needed it so he'd thank you again with coffee.

Dinner.

Dinner again.

Eventually, a ring.

You always knew what he needed.

A hug.

That was all.

[astonmartinii]

day five: santa community service | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem single mum!reader

max swore in a press conference and now he's a mall santa with an itchy beard

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 893,092 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: don't swear kids.... on a serious note, i had so much fun meeting the amazing kids of amsterdam (and delivering some gifts)

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user2: ummmmmm who is that woman ????

user3: that's what you've taken away from FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION MAX VERSTAPPEN BEING A MALL SANTA IN PUNISHMENT FOR SAYING FUCK

user4: ummmm yeah she's snug as a bug in a rug in the back of max's car that's REAL FUCKING INTERESTING

landonorris: why no picture of you as santa... pussy

maxverstappen1: gotta leave some girls for you haven't i mate?

landonorris: well by the looks of the third slide you've already got a girl so it's free range for me right?

maxverstappen1: third slide?

maxverstappen1: OH FUCK

maxverstappen1: she's never going to speak to me again now

landonorris: well you've just sworn again so maybe you'll get more community service and meet her again

maxverstappen1: i'm not dumb i got her number but like now she's going to see this and think i'm a freak :(

landonorris: you'll have to whip out that max verstappen charm again i guess

maxverstappen1: life is a prison

user5: NO ONE POST THE PICTURES OF MAX WITH THE KIDS IT WILL DO IRREPARABLE DAMAGE TO MY OVARIES

user6: i need dad max more than air at this point

danielricciardo: what is this depression session in the comment section maximus - you're a catch even with the creepy instagram etiquette

maxverstappen1: i had to do so much work to convince i wasn't a dork while in a FULL SANTA COSTUME and now i'm not even at step one i'm at step minus 100000000

danielricciardo: that's not very christmas spirit of you maxie

maxverstappen1: life is unfortunately not a hallmark movie so like she'll be a normal person, see that i've posted a pic of her sleeping to my 13 million followers and run for the hills

danielricciardo: okay humble brag

maxverstappen1: DANIEL HELP

danielricciardo: i think you'll be just fine

maxverstappen1: well thanks for nothing - USELESS

user7: oh so max gets generational headloss in all settings

user8: he's so real for that tho

user9: if this doesn't sort itself out i pray for george russell

georgerussell63: ???

user10: he is going to take it out on you ❤️

georgerussell63: oh fuck

maxverstappen1: @fia get him

yourusername

liked by landonorris, user11 and 2,457 others

yourusername: went for the mall santa and met her hero, how will i ever top this now?

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user12: FOUND YOU

yourusername: this is very creepy who are you

user12: oh i'm just a humble f1 fan who watched max verstappen crash out over thinking he fumbled you

yourusername: fumbling me? has he seen himself?

user12: oh girl i've just stalked your entire account your face card is insane

yourusername: i do not know what that means

user13: YOU HAVE A KID ????

yourusername: yes?

user13: so we could feasibly get step dad max - DILF MAX?

yourusername: are you people okay?

user13: he's down bad for you queen you gotta get in there

yourusername: excuse me?

user14: WAIT - you don't have a husband right?

yourusername: no...

yourusername: wait why am i replying to you people?

landonorris: how did they find you first i put so much effort into my investigation

oscarpiastri: you annoyed max until he gave you her name?

landonorris: RIGOROUS

yourusername: you people have a lot of followers, what are you doing here?

landonorris: max is your daughter's hero and you don't know me?

yourusername: damn that's an ego

landonorris: excuse me ?

yourusername: idk maybe my daughter loves max because he's plastered everywhere in the netherlands - she watches the races with my friends

landonorris: we drive the orange cars

yourusername: oh she hates yall

yourusername: i might have to block you two

oscarpiastri: I DID NOTHING IT WAS ALL HIM

maxverstappen1: ummm hi!

maxverstappen1: I'M SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T THINK I'M A CREEP

yourusername: why would i think you're a creep?

maxverstappen1: NO REASON

maxverstappen1: so that coffee?

yourusername: okay .....

yourusername: i was going to text you but yk kids and she's addicted to the games and has held my phone hostage

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 702,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & yourusername

landonorris: didn't leave monaco fast enough and now i'm stuck third wheeling - AND lola still hates me :(

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user16: CAN WE SLOW DOWN WE'RE GOING SO FUCKING FAST

yourusername: isn't that kinda their job?

user16: oh you gagged me there, congrats queen

user17: okay well now i'm obsessed with them and i need to know why lola hates lando so much

landonorris: she's a hater - just like her mother

maxverstappen1: y/n is allowed to hate you. in fact i'll support her in all of her hating i don't care

landonorris: i literally stayed for an extra day so we could all do something fun for christmas and HERE WE ARE

yourusername: i don't hate you lando, but i have to support my daughter in her dreams

landonorris: SHE SAID HER DREAMS WERE HER EXPLODING MY CAR WITH HER MIND

yourusername: LOL

landonorris: that is not 'LOL' that's attempted murder - i'm going to put your child in jail

maxverstappen1: woah lando that's too far

landonorris: and telepathic murder isn't ?

maxverstappen1: first of all it's telekinesis and second of all - lola can do what she wants

user18: oh boy he got attached quick

yourusername: this is nothing compared to lola

maxverstappen1: what? i love my biggest fan

danielricciardo: well fuck me i guess

maxverstappen1: yes

danielricciardo: max! y/n is right there (text me later)

maxverstappen1: oh wait ewwww

maxverstappen1: i meant get fucked.

yourusername: you can complain about third wheeling all you want but i'll deal with it if you keep taking these cute ass photos

landonorris: it's torture being an artist 💔

maxverstappen1: we also paid for everything lando, you can deal with watching your best friend being in love

landonorris: we're best friends ???

maxverstappen1: i'm your best friend - you're third at most

landonorris: ????

maxverstappen1: 1. lola 2. y/n 3. lando (maybe)

yourusername: awwwwww you're so sweet darling

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 14,859 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i support the fia's wrongs because they brought you to me

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user19: okay miss girl this is cute but i will NEVER let the fia live

yourusername: oh this is their one pass, next time i'll unleash lola's telekinesis

user19: tell lola that we thank her for her service

user20: but please don't blow up lando please

yourusername: she said orange cars - sorry osc

landonorris: what about a red car?

yourusername: oh she likes charles so no chance

charles_leclerc: taste 💅

maxverstappen1: i guess i'll let them off just this once because i love you

yourusername: you're so generous

georgerussell63: wanna forgive me as well

maxverstappen1: why would i do that?

maxverstappen1: also we're declaring our love for each other do you wanna GET THE FUCK OUT

georgerussell63: lola is talking about blowing up f1 cars with her mind i don't want to be a victim

yourusername: oh she won't blow your car up

georgerussell63: phew

yourusername: she'll bite you in person

georgerussell63: CRIKEY

georgerussell63: well i guess you guys can go back to declaring love now ...

yourusername: thanks i guess?

yourusername: love you maxy, i'm so glad we met you

maxverstappen1: i love you more, i love having both of you in my life

user21: this was very fast but this is also very cute

user22: i think we gotta get lola on sky sports - maybe she'll bite the british bias out of them

yourusername: do NOT threaten her with a good time

yourusername: however, i will say, lola doesn't actually bite she's very well behaved and just has a bit of a feral way about her

maxverstappen1: but it's so adorable :(

hulkhulkenberg: so ... paddock play dates

maxverstappen1: WE'RE THERE

yourusername: that would make the paddock a lot less intimidating for me

hulkhulkenberg: my daughter also prays on the downfall of everyone but me so they'll have that in common

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,245,038 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: maybe santa is real ... love of my life was top of my list this year

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user25: idk about you guys but i've never seen him happier

user26: after this season i'm so glad the christmas break has treated him so well

user27: i can't wait for the rest of the grid to think he might let up now and then mad max get released first corner in melbourne

maxverstappen1: whatever i gotta do to get that winners trophy for lola

yourusername: this is the happiest holidays we've ever had, you've made my dreams come true and truly are the best person i'd ever want around lola. i love you <3

maxverstappen1: i wouldn't want to be with anyone else now, you guys are it for me x

maxverstappen1: now come downstairs i'm strategically placed underneath the mistletoe

yourusername: there's mistletoe?

maxverstappen1: .... the christmas fairy must of put it up ?

yourusername: you know you don't need an excuse to kiss me right?

maxverstappen1: hehehehehehehehehehe

user28: wow he's such a loser i love him

yourusername: he's * my loser and * he LOVES ME

yourusername: sorry that was rude

yourusername: but he's so worth showing off

maxverstappen1: i can't wait to show you off to the world on international tv - i gotta mark my territory

yourusername: as if i would ever look anywhere but at you

landonorris: fine! you guys are cute! i'm taking all the credit for connecting you two

maxverstappen1: and just how did you do that?

landonorris: i found y/n's instagram duh!

yourusername: actually @user12 found my instagram

user12: omg shout out

maxverstappen1: i also had y/n's number the whole time...

landonorris: CAN YOU GUYS JUST LET ME HAVE THIS? IT'S CHRISTMAS?

yourusername: you got us socks for christmas ??? (thanks tbf)

landonorris: ALL MY BUDGET WENT TO LOLA'S PRESENT I HAD TO GET ON HER SIDE

maxverstappen1: you mean the mini MCL36 that she's been glaring at since she opened it?

yourusername: i think she's practicing her telekinesis for 2025 ❤️

landonorris: FUCK

yourusername: she just wants maxy to win lando, you can't deny her that

landonorris: i can feel her puppy dog eyes through the phone

maxverstappen1: i'll do anything to win for her - ANYTHING. merry christmas xx

landonorris: that's so threatening

yourusername: that's so romantic

fin.

note: ENJOY

[moonchildstyles]

I know angel is innocent, but do you think that if Harry had to go away for business or family or something, that she might 🥸 you know.... 🥸🥸 ˢᵉˣᵗ ʰᶦᵐ

wordcount: 9.3k+

—————

(Y/N) knuckled at her eye, attempting to get the sleep out so she could see Harry clearly. It would be the last time she'd see him for the next week, she wanted to remember every detail. 

"Stop," Harry murmured, gently grasping her wrist and pulling her hand from her eye. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing that, love." 

"Sorry," she yawned, blinking up at him. It was way too early to be awake, but she wasn't going to let him leave without a proper send off. 

"'S alright," he sighed, shifting his hold on her wrist until she was gathered against his chest. He dropped a kiss to her head, voice muffled against her hair when he said, "Jus' don't forget while 'm gone, 'kay?" 

"I'll try," she relented, keening into the warmth radiating from his chest, "What time do you land?" 

"It'll be a little after nine, I think. Y'think you'll be awake then?" 

"Maybe," she sighed, "I've got to feed Evie, so probably." 

He hugged her a bit tighter at the mention of his first born. "Will y'send me a picture when y'do? I miss her already." 

"I will," (Y/N) promised, pulling away from where her cheek had nestled against his shoulder. Blinking up at him, she told herself not to cry when he matched her gaze. It wasn't fair that he looked so cozy and warm, pliant with his own sleep, and was planning on leaving her all by herself for the next week. "Will you send me a picture of you when you land? Because I miss you already." 

It was a silly request, one that was supposed to be lighthearted—for the both of them—but only served to make her bottom lip quiver by the time the words hung between them. A pout crossed Harry's features. Dropping his bag, his now free hand landed on the back of her head, cradling her snug against him. 

"Baby," he crooned, "I miss y'too, you know that. We've never been apart like this before, have we?" Only a pathetic shake of her head was offered. "But we'll be alright. Jus' call me when y'need me, and I'll answer. You might even like having the place to yourself for a little—won't even want me to come home." 

Her eyes watered at his teasing allegation. "I'll always want you to be home with me." 

A soft sigh escaped from his chest. "Oh, love. I'll be home soon, I promise. 'S only a week." 

"I know," she blubbered, "Just wish I could go with you." 

"But you're being responsible and going to class and studying instead. Not something to be sad about at all." He pet his hand down the back of her head, gentle fingers brushing the back of her neck and warming her skin. "Besides, y'don't want to be at these conferences. They're boring." 

"Then why are you going?" If they were so boring, maybe she could convince him to stay in bed with her for the whole week instead of working.

"Gotta be on top of everything, love," he said, just as he had every other time she asked why this conference was so important, "Can't be the best tattooer in the world if I never go and see what's new." 

She deflated. He was using her words against her, the praises she would mean whether or not he went to these conferences and conventions. 

"'S gonna be alright, darling. Really," he insisted, his tone growing serious as he cupped the nape of her neck and pulled her back just enough to get a look at her. "I'll miss you, but I'll be home before y'know it. Then we can spend the whole weekend together before I go back to work." 

That did sound nice. Especially since she was more than sure she would be able to convince him to order in and eat in bed with her. 

"Okay," she relented, voice a bit watery, "Love you, H." 

His features grew soft. Without the aid of his signature eyeliner, there were only soft edges to his eyes, matching the soft curl of his lips. With his hair pulled back, she could see every plane of his face where she was used to seeing a stern edge or cutting line. But not when it came to her; everything was soft when he looked at his love.

"I love you too, (Y/N)," he murmured, ducking his head to press a simple kiss to her lips. "I'll text y'when I get to the airport, but please go back to sleep if you're still tired." 

(Y/N) chased after her, catching him in another kiss, this one a bit harder and more urgent. Their last kiss to be shared for the next week, and she was going to make it worth it. Even if she did start feeling her eyes begin to burn and her nose warm. 

His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her cheek in his palm. He let her take what she needed, slotting his lips to hers with her bottom one between his two. It was sweet and giving, the way she sank into him, eager to get as much of her fill as she could manage in the short time frame. 

With his head much clearer, Harry drew away first, offering a smattering of pecking kisses before leaving the warmth of her presence. 

"Gonna make me miss my flight if you're not careful," he teased, offering one more press of his lips to the bridge of her nose. 

(Y/N) canted her head. That wasn't such a bad idea, actually. If he missed his flight, it would be way too much work to reschedule and possibly update his accommodations—

"No, I know what you're thinking, love," Harry smiled, shaking his head as he interrupted her line of thought, "I've still got to go." 

She made a show of deflating, taking the route of attempting to make him laugh instead of giving into the lump forming in her throat. 

"Fine," she sighed, as if he had punctured all of the air from her, "This time, I'll let you go. But you might not be so lucky the next time." 

"So generous, my lovebug is," Harry murmured, hugging her extra tight as he fit his face into her neck. "I love you so much, baby. I'll let y'know when I land." 

"Okay," she whispered, not trusting her voice to go any louder, "I love you, too." 

He pulsed his arms around her for a lingering moment before doing the hard part of untangling from her limbs. She felt decidedly colder once he left the space of her bubble. (Y/N) could only wrap her arms around her middle to keep herself from reaching for him.

She watched as he slung his bag over his shoulder. The roses on his neck bristled as he stood to the full of his height, hand resting on the doorknob. 

"I'll see you soon, baby," he promised, a sad smile on his lips, "Promise." 

"See you soon, H." 

(Y/N) followed him to the garage, watching as he backed his car out and onto the street. She waved at him on the off chance he might be looking at her, until he most definitely was too far away to catch even a speck of her. Getting out of the chill, she made her way back inside and to their shared bedroom.

 It was then, with her head on his pillow, the sheets scented of him with Harry's kitten at her feet, that she let her tears fall. 

While it wasn't the waterfall she feared she was going to shed when he was still here, it was enough to heat her skin and slick down her cheeks in rivers. She missed him already, not used to being in this bed without her Harry at her side. 

Having heard her sniffling and the incessant wiping of her sleeve over her cheeks, Evie left her post at (Y/N)'s feet and found the perfect spot to curl up right on the pillow. With her pink nose, she sniffed over (Y/N)'s tear-stained cheeks, whiskers tickling her skin. 

"Hi, Evie," (Y/N) blubbered, "Do you miss your daddy already too?" 

Evie didn't do anything other than deposit a soft lick to the tip of (Y/N)'s nose. A small smile curled (Y/N)'s salted lips. 

"At least we have each other." 

Evie chirped at that.

—————

"And, what did she say after that?" 

Patting her moisturizer into her skin, (Y/N) let out a heavy sigh as she dropped her eyes to her phone screen. Illuminated in the pixels was Harry's tired face, free of any eyeliner with his hair pulled back and a headband keeping the stray strands from brushing his eyes. A white fluffy pillow was held to his chest, taking up the bottom third of the view, his chin resting on the edge as he looked at the camera. At her. 

"Nothing. She didn't say anything the rest of the shift. It was creepy." 

Harry barked out a laugh at her words. "Not even to you?" 

"No," (Y/N) affirmed, "Even when I said bye before I left, she just nodded at me." 

At this, Harry's lips thinned. "That's not very nice. 'M sorry she acted like that today, love. She didn't hurt your feelings or anything, right?" 

The shake of her head had his features loosening in relief. "No, I'm okay. I just don't really want to go in tomorrow if she's also going to be there; I'll have to hide in the autobiographies if she is." 

"That might be fun, though," Harry started, interrupting himself with a yawn, "Easy work."

"Too easy," she pointed out, wiping the remainder of the lotion on her hands, "I'll fall asleep." 

"That doesn't sound so bad," he murmured, his own eyes falling closed in a lingering blink. 

Picking up her phone, (Y/N)'s lips puffed into a pout. She had been looking forward to this evening's FaceTime, the same way she had been the last three days, but it didn't feel right to keep him on the phone when he was so clearly tired. 

"Do you want me to let you go, H? I don't want to keep you up." 

He was quick to blink his eyes open, forcing them wide and awake as he stitched his attention on her. "No, no, 's alright. I want to talk to you, baby." 

Her own lips curled into a soft grin as she started back to their bedroom. Evie was already in her new favorite spot—right where her daddy usually slept. "I want to talk to you too, but I know you had a busy day. We can talk tomorrow." 

"But I miss you today." 

When she laid her head down on her pillow, phone in hand, the view on her screen framed an illusion that they were sharing a bed. Only a pillow between them. 

"I miss you, too," she murmured ardently, "But I feel bad." 

"Don't feel bad," he insisted, denying as if there weren't bags under his eyes, "It really wasn't that busy of a day—jus' lots of talking." 

"One of your least favorite things," she pointed out as his eyes fell closed once more.

"Not when 's you." 

At that, (Y/N) paused. Her heart pattered in her chest, blood rushing through her veins with heart-shaped cells. He was too good at arguing with her like this. 

When she didn't immediately answer, she saw his eyes open. Half-lidded, they landed directly on her. He could easily tell just what kind of reaction he was drawing out of her, her face an open book just for him to read. 

"Did I win?"

A sheepish nod was his answer. 

Hunkering down into the fluff of his hotel bed, Harry let a lazy smile cover his features. If she squinted her eyes just so, the illusion worked well enough to imagine she was lying in bed next to him—a small version of him, but Harry nonetheless. 

"I'll stay with y'until y'fall asleep, love," he murmured, just voice a comforting rumble through her phone. Next time, she decided, she was going to have her headphones on, wishing to hear every note of his voice. 

"Thank you," she peeped, grateful even if a little guilty that he was going to stay awake when he was clearly so tired. 

Through his cracked eyes, she could see affection swimming through the shattered green of his iris. "Tomorrow's going to be better, love. I know it," he insisted, broken up by a short yawn, "And if 's not, 'm catching a flight home." 

A huff of laughter fell across the cover of her pillow. "Now you're going to make me hope I have a bad day." 

Harry's grin only widened. Dimples deeply dented his cheeks. "Don't say that," he pushed, though he didn't sound particularly convincing. 

Looking at him, even made of speakers and pixels, she doubted she would have an easy time falling asleep tonight. Not when she had him right here with her, as close as he could be. 

—————

Posing in the mirror, (Y/N) tugged the end of her skirt to flare it around her thighs. She snapped a photo of herself in the mirror, her phone partially covering her face in the reflection. 

Once the photo generated on her phone screen, (Y/N) relaxed from her pose and took a look at the shot. With a chunky, slouchy cream sweater covering her top—a borrowed piece, of course, from the opposite side of the closet—she had taken a leap and chosen to wear a skirt despite the chilly autumn weather outside. The night before, when she had picked out this outfit, she had been unsure, knowing she would undoubtedly be freezing on campus with only a skirt covering to the mid of her thighs. It had been Harry's idea to put on a pair of hose or stockings at the least to help cover her a little. 

(Leggings had been his first suggestion, and she had shot that down immediately).

Sending him a photo now, with a pair of barely used stockings pulled as high up her thighs as she could manage, was her test to see if she looked as silly as she felt. The skirt thankfully was covering the scalloped lace lining the top of the stockings, but she felt a bit scandalous with the pieces on her legs. 

Attaching the photo to a message, she typed out: 

     do you think this looks silly? i don't know if i still have the hose from my halloween costume but i'll look for it if you think that will work better!!

Pressing sending, she turned her attention to her hair instead of watching for Harry's response. All she had time for was to reach for a sparkly white headband before her phone buzzed against the countertop. From the preview, she saw that he had loved the image she sent before sending back a couple of texts in rapid succession. 

     Baby, you look gorgeous! 

     Is that my sweater? You should keep it.

     Don't change, I think you look perfect!

     But why can't I see your face? :( I miss you. 

A soft smile covered her features as she scrolled over the handful of messages. Taking a moment, she slid her headband over her head, pushing stray hairs out of her face. It felt a little silly, but she took another photo of herself, this one only of her smiling face before pressing send once more. 

Before she could even type out her gratitude for his previous messages, another handful were delivered.

     Baby! There you are!

     You look so pretty!

     Is that your new lipgloss? 

     I love when you push your hair back like that. Will you do that for the next time I get to take you out?

(Y/N) felt like she needed to be lying on her stomach, kicking her feet in the air while she twirled her hair when she read these over. Even from miles and miles away, she was not immune to the way he spoke to her. 

     thank you h🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 you're so sweet i miss you too!!!!

     i'm just worried that they're going to fall over my legs and then people will see the lace:( 

The delivered receipt never even popped up, Harry reading her messages as soon as they were sent. 

     I think you'll be okay, love. Your skirt is long enough that if they fall little, I don't think anyone will see. 

     If it would make you feel a little better, you can take one of my coats and use it to cover up if you feel like you need it. 

Truthfully, she was going to take one of his jackets with her today anyway, whether or not he gave her permission. 

     oooh that would be perfect!!!!! thank youuuuuuuu

     Of course. Stay warm today, darling. I'll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. 

Glancing at the time, she was sure Harry would have just exited the tube and started making his way to the convention with the rest of the boys from the shop. She would have to keep it together and not text him every thought she had during the day. 

     talk to you later!!!! have fun love u

     Love you too, angel.

She couldn't wait to see him say those words to her in person. Only three more days. 

—————

From where it was tucked away under her thigh, (Y/N)'s phone buzzed. Today's lecture was an easy one to be distracted from, even if it probably wasn't the best idea to pay attention to her phone instead of the slides at the front of the room. 

Nonetheless, she reached for her phone under her skirt and glanced at the screen. 

Harry had sent a photo. 

A pinch appeared between her brows as she unlocked the screen, swiping on the notification. 

Their text thread was now made up of a photo of Harry in the bathroom at the conference center. It was a shot of his reflection in the mirror, where he was goofily posing to mimic the one she had sent over that morning. His tattooed hand was out at his side, pinching an invisible skirt to show off the flare.

     What do you think?  

(Y/N) had to choke back a laugh at the sight. 

     super cute h

     grab a jacket in case you get cold though

When he didn't immediately reply, (Y/N) tucked her phone away, smile now on her features as she pretended to pay attention to the lecturer before her. 

She was going to have to send that picture to Sarah and Mitch.

—————

(Y/N) checked the time, her expression falling when she saw just how little time had passed since the last time she looked. 

It had already been an hour since she said goodnight to Harry over the phone, but it was still too early to justify climbing into bed. Especially since she had taken a nap when she made it home from work. 

Over the phone, Harry had seemed so sleepy, recounting his long day touring the conference before getting a chance to finally sit down and give her a call when he made it back to his hotel room. She could have kept talking to him for hours, in love with the sound of his voice rumbling through the phone, but he seemed so exhausted. She didn't want to keep him up just because she missed him.

That left her alone, traveling back and forth to her closet. Different outfits were bundled in her arms each trip, the goal to be finding something cute to wear for her presentation on Monday. Without Harry here to soothe her for another couple of days—"two more sleeps," they had said on the phone—this was her only chance at distracting herself from the slides she already memorized. If she felt pretty, she thought she might be able to get through the whole thing a little easier. 

Playing music from the heart shaped speaker she stole from their bathroom, she bopped about the room, laying out different options on the bed. All of them were pretty cute, she thought, just... not right? She wasn't sure why, but none of them seemed to fit the vision she had for herself on Monday. 

Would the pink skirt come across as childish? The sweater with bows laced down the sleeves as unprofessional? But the fitted, dark green sweater she'd pulled didn't really feel like herself—at least not the version of herself that she would feel the most comfortable being when she was already going to be at her most uncomfortable in front of her whole class. 

Though it sounded like a lot of work, she figured she would only know for sure if she tried on each prospect. Even if the idea sounded even less fun when she remembered Harry wasn't going to be there to give his candy-coated opinion and tell her every sweet nothing he could think of. 

At the very least, it would fill her time and check off a task she knew she wasn't going to want to do when Harry returned home on Sunday. 

—————

Falling back onto their bed, (Y/N) didn't feel any more accomplished even with the skirt flaring around her body. She still needed to change out of this particular outfit—the one with the bow sweater layered over a silky blush dress and the same stockings that had treated her well earlier in the week—but she was too tired to do so at the moment. Instead, she pulled open her camera roll and looked at the trio of photos she took in her options. 

Even if she knew she wasn't going to gain any kind of response until the morning, (Y/N) still attached all three to a new message to Harry. He could be the deciding vote (even if she really just wanted him to pick the outfit she currently had on). 

Despite knowing he was asleep—the time being now a full hour and a half since saying goodnight—she still lagged for a moment, waiting for the receipt to change to read. Unsurprised, she locked her phone after a minute when her message stayed on delivered. 

(Y/N) pushed her phone to the side as she forced herself up from where she laid on her bed, a heavy sigh leaving her chest. She needed to get into her pajamas, then wash her face, perform her skincare routine, get her hair in shape for bedtime, and then probably feed Evie again and have a snack herself, and, if he wasn't too tired, she could start the new book she dow—

Her phone buzzed. 

Pausing where she stood, feet bare other than the stockings wrapped around her legs. She knew it was probably Sarah, confirming their plans for the following way. But, (Y/N) still, just a little, hoped it might be Harry. 

Without letting herself get too excited, she reached for her phone amongst the tufts of her comforter. 

A single notification sat at the bottom of her lock screen. 

     Harry🖤

She didn't even attempt to hold back the smile that bloomed over her features. He was supposed to be asleep. 

Sliding the notification open, their text thread opened up. Her photos took up the majority of the screen though her eyes went right to his message. 

     Are you still in the last outfit?

A little less... affectionate than she had been hoping for, but a response nonetheless. 

     i am why ! 

     i thought you were asleep 

Another message near instantly came through. 

     I'm having a harder time falling asleep than I thought. 

     I really like that last one, love. Are you wearing those stockings? 

She frowned at his explanation. She didn't like the idea of Harry tossing and turning all by himself in a hotel room. Maybe, she'd try to help him get to sleep. 

     yessss but i did find those ones that i got for my halloween costume so i can wear those instead if you think that's better for the presentation 

     Can I see? 

(Y/N)'s frown deepened. 

     the other ones???? 

It wasn't a fun set to pull up her legs since the material was so fragile and thighs when they made it up to her thighs, but she would manage if wanted to see—

     No, the stockings. 

     You're still wearing them right, love? 

Her cheeks warmed. Maybe it was the way she was reading it in her head—with the deep rumble of his voice, drawling and heavy with his eyes on her—but she swore there was a little more to this than attempting to help her pick an outfit. 

In lieu of typing out a response, she turned her camera on. She debated finding her way back to bed or standing before the mirror once more. Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, she figured the mirror was the safer choice. At least this way she could offer a full view. 

Bunching the skirt of the dress in her hand, she snapped a photo of the stockings tight around her legs, the white lace showing. There was no pattern in the netting, only the sheer white mesh, the material offering a satin finish over her skin. Nothing special, really. 

The photo sent, never reaching delivered status before being read by Harry. Though no immediate response was sent back.

(Y/N) waited as moments passed before a bubble filled with three little dots popped up in the corner of the screen. 

     You look so pretty, love. I wish I was there with you. 

     Do you have anything else pretty on under your outfit?

She blinked at the message. Okay, so she hadn't been reading him wrong, even if she was a little surprised at how quickly he was leading her down this path. 

Her fingers hovered over the offered keyboard. Truthfully, she wasn't wearing a pretty matching set the way she was sure Harry was picturing. Underneath the layers of her sweater and dress, was a comfortable, unlined pink bra and a set of cotton panties in baby blue. 

Just as she went to type an answer, she blanched, eyes widening as an alternative idea popped through her head. 

Did he want a... picture of her?

The idea had her stomach churning. 

Though it wasn't anything Harry hadn't seen before, photos seemed so much more scandalous. She didn't doubt that it had much to do with conversations she overhead her parents having, the kind when a celebrity or a girl in their community had private photos leaked and spread around. It was always the woman in the photo's fault—if she hadn't wanted those out there, she shouldn't have taken them. She shouldn't have been acting like a whore. 

She must have taken longer than she realized when another message came through.

     Baby? 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) typed out a noncommittal answer. 

    maybeeeeeeee

    why?

Harry would be disappointed to see her chewing on the pillow of her lip, but she couldn't help herself. Was it stupid to be nervous? Especially when the question itself hadn't even been asked—and even if it had, Harry was the love of her life. She lived with him, and was stressing over the idea of sending him a photo of her body? It didn't make much sense. 

     I miss you baby. Do you think I could see you? 

If there was any room for speculation over how much he missed her and in what way, it was all put to rest when another photo came through. 

It was a view of the small of Harry's stomach, angled as if he were posing the camera from the height of his chest. His hand, tattooed and familiar, grasping at a bulge through the worn black material of his sweats. 

(Y/N) blinked, breath stuck in her chest. 

No wonder he couldn't fall asleep. 

Was she supposed to send her own photo now? To be fair, it was quite the sight—one she had missed since he left—to see the expanse of his hand over his crotch, but she wasn't sure she was far enough gone to completely disregard the feeling in her stomach. 

But she couldn't leave him hanging. She knew she would be sick to her stomach if she sent something to Harry and he didn't immediately respond in kind. 

She didn't think before she reacted to the photo with a heart, typing out: 

     i miss you too!!!!! is this why you couldn't sleep 

It took all of one second, realizing what she had sent his way, to make her cringe. She was sure this wasn't the kind of reaction he had been hoping for when he sent an explicit image. 

She hoped, if anything, he thought it was endearing. 

     A little bit. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since our phone call. I don't know if I can wait two more sleeps to see you again. 

Her heart raced behind her ribs. While it wasn't something she really indulged in, there was more than once this week that she had briefly wondered if she had the willpower to wait for him to return home before spreading her legs. But, as it usually did, the idea paled in comparison to what he was able to offer her. If she had to wait a couple of days, then so be it, she had decided. 

That decision didn't feel so concrete now, not with the view on her phone. 

It's not like Harry would spread her photos around. She knew that. And this would be far from the most scandalous thing she'd ever partaken in with Harry's guidance. 

And, gosh, did she miss him.

Between her legs, a heat gathered. What she wouldn't give to be on her knees before him, her hand replacing his. To hear the rumbling of his moans, hearing him call her his pretty, good girl. So gorgeous he can barely handle himself. That he could spend hours—days, even—in bed with her. All he wanted was to take care of her, starting with the ache between her legs. 

She clutched her phone tightly. 

It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. It was just a photo. If it really bothered her, Harry would delete every photo and every mention of the photos. Besides, she was an adult. 

She had moved into a home with her long-term boyfriend—who she had a sneaking suspicion was going to propose in the near future—, took care of her own needs, and would soon be facing her college graduation. She could send photos of herself if she wanted to. 

(Even if she still felt a little sick to her stomach. Aside from being unsure of sending them, she didn't even know how to take them). 

     Are you still there, baby? I didn't mean to scare you off. 

A small smile touched the corners of her mouth. She could hear those words in his voice. He was always so worried about being too much, asking for too much, when it came to her. Because he was Harry, and he loved her. 

He loved her so much, and she didn't doubt that she could trust him even more.

     yeah hold on im taking a picture !!

That was all she said before pulling up her camera. 

Making quick work of her clothing, the sweater and dress became nothing more than a puddle on the floor. She hesitated at the hem of the stockings. It felt a bit silly to keep them on, given the fact that her underwear was far from pretty and put together. But, Harry did seem to like them. 

Before she could think any more about it, she took her phone and stepped in front of the mirror. 

There was a feeling in her chest, similar to that of when he took her to the beach for the first time in Barcelona, seeing herself in so little clothing. Very different to when she would disrobe in front of him, knowing that he was only going to gaze upon her in awe. She wouldn't be able to gauge his reaction from the other end of a phone. 

If not for the fact that she had already said she was taking a photo of herself, (Y/N) may have backed down. Instead, she committed to posing before the mirror. 

She stood with her thighs together, the gusset of her panties tucked between her legs. The stockings stood out against her skin, shimmering in the low light of the lit lamps of their bedroom. Her breasts were cradled in the light pink material of her bra, unlined with the peak of her nipples pushing through. The thin line of wire under her bust held up the swells. 

Angling her camera to conceal her face once more, (Y/N) held her breath as she pressed the circle at the bottom of her screen. She didn't allow herself more than a glance at the photo before pressing send. It didn't look too bad when she peeked, but she wasn't in the mood to judge her body any more than she already was beginning to judge herself for taking the photo at all. 

She couldn't wait to see what his reaction would be. Instead, she locked her phone and dove for the safety of her bed, wrapping the throw lined at the bottom of the mattress around her nearly-bare body. 

(Y/N) knew she wasn't a bad person. Right? She had only sent a photo to her boyfriend. That was all. Was it the best photo? Maybe not, but it was of her. That should be enough for him, right? 

Harry always told her just how perfect she was, how much he loved her body. Even after she had more than one bowl of soup before he took her to bed, he never complained over her bloated stomach or if she hadn't had time to shave herself before spreading her legs. 

But, photos could be so unforgiving. She wouldn't blame him if he thought differently of her. Not to mention, she really gave in pretty quickly to this whole photo thing, didn't she? 

What if he hadn't even wanted a photo of her, and she sent one anyway? She should have know—

     Fuck

     Angel are you joking 

     This isn't fair. You cant look so pretty without me 

     Did you keep those stockings on for m e?

Something bloomed in the middle of her chest. It was a bit silly, but she knew Harry. He didn't text without punctuation and checking his spelling. Seeing the lack of periods and a disjointed word at the end, she liked to think that her photo was having a more profound effect on him than she could have hoped. 

The lighting hadn't been as bad as she thought, then. 

Confidence struck her, urging her to message him back before it had a chance to fizzle out. 

     yes daddy

She wished she could be there to see his reaction to the message. She missed seeing that flash in his eyes, his pupils dilating as he gazed at her. In her head, he would have reached out and grabbed her hips, pulling her flushed to him. Hips together, where the thick bulge of his cock would press right against her core. 

Was it crazy to catch a flight? She could probably make it there soon, and then they could go home together on Sunday. 

That way she could at least see her daddy be—

     You're such a good girl for your daddy angel

     Fucking perfect you're gonna make me cum just from your picture 

     Can I show you?

The final message had her heart slowing. The heat that had fallen to the backburner during her overthinking had returned tenfold. The effect she had on him would never not amaze her. 

She definitely wanted to see. 

     please

(Y/N) waited, sitting in the message thread. Her imagination ran wild, filling in the gaps his absence left behind. 

She wondered how long he would be home before she would drip to her knees. Would she let him put his things away, or would he feel the same need she did and take care of her as soon as he made it through the door? Would he press her against the door, his hair still pulled back from his flight, minty gum being ground between his molars? Or would he give her the courtesy of placing her on the kitchen counter, shorts pulled to her ankles? 

Could she get him to play with her, chasing her into their bedroom before she tugged him down atop her? So she could lay just like she was now, on her back with her head cushioned by a pillow smelling of him. In her head, she would have something much prettier on, but if he wanted her pretty socks on, she could do that for him. She could spread her legs for him, let him fit himself between her thighs. 

Her breathing was labored as she took the hand bundled between the sheets to the small of her stomach. Her phone was still hovering above her face, waiting for the response she needed from Harry, but now her attention was beginning to split in half. 

Now, she noticed the goosebumps on her skin, rising in the wake of her own touch. The feeling brought her back to their first Valentine's Day. When he had sat behind her, their hands looped together between her legs, showing her exactly how to touch herself, to emulate the way he took care of her. Her fingertips had only touched the first thread of the elastic around her waist when a message came through.

Or a video did. 

There was a part of her that was worried that she didn't even hesitate before pressing play. The other part of her was too worked up to care. 

The video took over the full screen in an instant, the sound turned up just enough to hear soft noises. (Y/N) hurried to turn the volume up a few notches when she realized what she was looking at. 

With his sweats pushed down to his thighs, showing off the ink needled into nearly every inch of his skin, Harry had his hand fisted around his cock. Only lamps were turned on in his hotel room, leaving the space in buttery, limited light. Shadows were elongated, everything just a touch darker than she was sure it was in real. Including the black nail polish that glimmered on his fingers as he stroked his hand over his cock. 

The tip was red and ruddy, blurting with precum. He was much more worked up than she was expecting, the long night having taken a toll on him. Slick, soft pats of his hand hitting his base sounded through her phone, in conjunction with the heady pants behind the camera. 

Her mouth ran dry when she heard her name being moaned. She had missed that voice so much. 

All over a single photo she had sent. 

A week apart was much too long, it appeared. 

Abruptly, the video stopped. She didn't think before she tapped the screen again, urging the clip to start over. 

Watching the video once more, (Y/N) allowed her other hand to drift lower. Breaching the waist of her underwear, she pictured his hand as her eyes fluttered to a close. It was jarring, the first touch to her clit. The last time she had done this for herself, had been under Harry's supervision that day. Never had she been alone before. 

Though, she figured she wasn't really alone, not when she heard the grumbling tone of his moans filtering through the room. The call of her name as he jerked his fist over his length. 

With her mind becoming a bit more muddy with every breath, she attempted to remember just how Harry worked her up and helped her through the shaky breaths entering her lungs. 

He always started at her clit, working the bud in tight circles, borrowing wetness from her slit to keep her movements slick. Her back arched as she slid her finger lower, parting her folds to where her pulsing opening beckoned to someone miles away. 

Her lungs shuddered, breathing uneven as she attempted to focus. Pulling her eyes open (she hadn't even known they closed, really) she directed the small portion of her attention she had to spare towards her phone. The video had ended, the screen moments away from locking before she tapped her thumb. 

Swiping to their messages, she didn't think. 

     harry oh my god 

     i miss you so much daddy I wish you were here this doesn't feel the same without you 

     i need you 

A trio of dots came up on the corner of her screen.

     Can I see you, baby? I miss you too so much. 

     When I get home I m going to take such good care f you I promise 

     Be good and show daddy what he's doing to you love I need it 

How he knew so clearly what to say to her, what would clear through the much and spear into her chest, she was never going to be sure, but she would always be grateful.

His request for another photo was a steady distraction. It allowed her to keep some of her head on straight instead of losing every bit of her to the pleasure she was eliciting between her legs. Taking a hurried moment, she shimmied her panties down her stockinged legs until the garment was hanging off of an ankle. Spreading her legs wide, her phone angled just so, the camera caught a view of the softness of her stomach to the middle of her thighs. Just the top scalloping of the lace was caught from the stockings.

Her hand, tucked just so, worked between her legs. She wasn't sure if the slick sounds permeating the room was going to be picked up, but she hoped so. She hoped Harry would be able to hear what such a simple video had done to her. That she had viewed it twice, her underwear now sporting a damp spot with that same wetness being pulled up to coat her clit. That she really did listen when he attempted to show her how to take care of herself, circling her fingers around the bud with her pulsing opening waiting for him the second he made it back home to her. 

Oh god, when he got home. 

She didn't doubt that he was going to take perfect care of her. Throwing her head back, (Y/N) lost sight of the screen of her phone, but a different view took over her head. 

This one had Harry sitting before her, letting her nestle between his thighs as he stroked his cock in front of her face. She could see the pearls of precum beading down his length to be swept away in his stroking fist. Glistening and throbbing. She would open her mouth and let him do anything he wanted—

"Daddy," she breathed, blinking back to the world when she realized she still had a video she was to be directing. 

Keeping her hand between her legs, she shut off the camera. She only made a couple of presses before the video was off to Harry, though she kept working her fingers over her clit, dipping low in teasing touches before returning to the bud. As much as she would have liked to feel something sinking deep inside her, the idea didn't sound as appealing when she knew her own fingers weren't going to cut it. She would save that bit for Harry; toying with her clit was doing a well enough job, and she didn't have the attention to take care of two different paces, if she was honest. 

A handful of responses were delivered to her at a rapid-fire pace. 

     can I save that video baby

     you look so pretty with your hand between your legs 

     Doing what daddy taught you rigt 

     Im so fuckign proud of you I miss you so much angel 

     can I see you cum please 

     for me 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) barely was able to keep her hand from shaking as she typed.

     I want to see you:( 

It was at the same moment that her phone buzzed. A FaceTime call. From Harry.

"Harry?" she greeted, breathless when she answered. She didn't need to glance at the tiny box of herself to know that her eyes were lidded and wild, mouth parted and swollen. 

"Oh fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, the view of his face obstructed from the messy state of his hair. His cheeks blazed with warmth, baby hair clinging to his temples. "You're close, love? Can y'cum with me?" 

(Y/N) practically melted into the mattress at the sound of his voice. She missed this so much—missed him more than she even realized until then. Her clit pulsed under her finger. 

"Uh-huh," she nodded, debating turning her camera around before blinking at her phone screen. "Do you... I can show you." 

A string of curses left his raspberry mouth. "Let me see, baby. Let daddy see." 

She didn't have to give another thought before she was punching the button, reversing the camera to show a view of her spread legs. Her hand was clearly working over her pussy, the slick sounds not matching the circling of her fingers. 

"That feel good, angel?" Harry panted, his eyes almost falling closed before he suddenly remembered what was in front of him. A quiet whimper broke from her throat. "I know, baby. 'M sure it feels so good, huh?" 

For the hundredth time in the last handful of minutes, she wished Harry was with her. She wished he was hovering above her, that she could see the look on her face and the need flashing through her eyes. That he would know what she needed just from looking at her, but she supposed she could handle that part for the night. Maybe. 

"R-Really good, daddy," she let out, breathless, "I-I want to see you—I'm—" 

Before her eyes, she saw the screen flip. Where his flustered face had been was now a view of his cock. Much like his video, his fist was working relentlessly over his length, though he decidedly looked much more desperate. He was gleaming in the sheen of his precum, his thumb swiping through the near constant river dripping down. From the way he was breathing alone, she was sure he was close. 

"Harry—oh my god," she murmured, barely finding her voice, "Wh-When you get home, will you—Can you let me do that for you, please? I want you so bad." 

It was a bold request, so bluntly spoken in her book. Though it only seemed to spur Harry on. His cock jumped in his hand, another stream sliding down his cock. 

"You're gonna make me cum, baby," he groaned, the camera going shaking like his breathing, "I wanna see you first—can y'do that for me? Are y'close?" 

Shifting her hold on her phone, she moved her camera to show the pace of her fingers between her legs, working over her clit. She moved her legs wider apart, her movements growing messy and clumsy. Knowing that he was watching her was enough to have her arching her back. 

"So close, so close," she muttered, her voice thick in her throat. 

"Show me." The command of his voice was so enticing. "I wanna see how much y'miss me, love." 

When he put it that way, she couldn't hold off any more. She wanted him to know just how badly she missed him, how much she wished she was at his side, hands on each other. Shuttering her eyes, she hoped she kept her hand steady as she felt herself unravel. Though it didn't compare to the fire Harry lit in the pit of her stomach, the flames lighting under her skin was enough to simmer her blood and warm her body.

Whimpering calls of his name—both of them—fell from her lips. Her breasts heaved under her bra, heart pounding just as hard. Her fingers lagged around her clit as her hips bucked upwards into her hand. Her folds grew impossibly slick, her insides clenching around nothing. Especially when she heard the responding moans from Harry on the other end.

It took effort to peel her eyes open, to look at her own show playing on her phone screen. 

Harry was cumming, his hand still tight around his cock. Ropes of his release spurted from his tip, dripping down to his stroking hand. Deep, heavy moans fell from his lips. (Y/N) could only imagine the way he looked with his lips parted, eyes shuttered closed with his hair a messy halo around his head. How it would feel to have her head against his chest, feeling the vibrations of his voice under her ear. 

Aftershocks wracked through her body as she watched him. More and more clarity streaked through her head as she watched his own comedown begin. Through the camera, she could see the way his strokes began to slow, hand shaking as he loosened his grip. Small dribbles were all that remained of his release before he hissed, removing his hand completely. 

(She wasn't going to say it now, but she felt a bit... sad to know that the slick release covering his hand was going to be washed away. She would have cleaned him up better). 

Her own hand retreated from between her legs. Her legs moved to close around the phantom touch that had her insides pulsing. She wondered if Harry was able to see the glistening slick over her fingers before she turned the camera back around. 

"Harry?" 

It took a bit, a lingering pause with heavy breaths before Harry followed suit. 

"Sorry," he murmured, his face flushed as he blinked his eyes open, "Are y'alright, love?" 

Nestled amongst the sheets that still smelled of him, (Y/N) felt a dazed smile touch her lips. 

"I'm good. Are you okay?"

"'M alright," he confirmed, a subtle grin matching hers. "That was a lot, huh?"

She suddenly felt shy. As if this was the most scandalous thing they've ever gotten up to. 

"A little. But, good, right?" 

"Good. Really good," he cemented, a light in his eyes, "Not what I thought we were going to do tonight, but worth it." 

(Y/N) hummed. "I just wanted help picking out an outfit." 

A loud laugh bubbled from her love. "Well, at least y'know my favorite." 

Rolling her sheets, legs still a bit sticky, (Y/N) could only mimic the smile on his face. "I guess so. But I don't know if I can wear that if that's how it made you feel." 

"Maybe not," he prattled, "Might have to be something just for the two of us." 

"Maybe," she sighed. 

On her phone, she watched Harry's eyes grow heavy. Once glance at the time showed her how late the night had grown while they were busy. All after the long day Harry had gone through. 

"Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?" she asked, her voice decidedly quieter and more even than just moments before. 

"Probably," Harry hummed, a lazy smile pulling his lips, "Are you tired?" 

"A little. I still need to clean up, but you know me." 

"Don't I ever," he teased, affection swimming in his gaze, "Only two more sleeps, sweetheart." 

"Two more sleeps," she repeated, a sigh fanning from her lips, "I'll talk to you in the morning?" 

"I'll text y'when I wake up," he assured, exhaustion lessening only to make room for the fondness infiltrating his features. "Goodnight, baby. Love you." 

"Love you, too, H." 

The last thing she saw was the loving smile on his face before the screen cut back to their messages. It made her skin warm seeing the last few texts they shared. Everything always seemed a little bit silly once that cold clarity hit. 

Not that she would change a single moment, of course. Though she didn't see the photo thing becoming the norm between them, it definitely didn't seem so scary with Harry on the other end. 

It felt... nice, even. Even without her right in front of him, Harry still was the most loving, most affectionate. He was miles and miles away and she was still the most appealing thing to him. After a long day, she was the one he wanted to see.

Biting her bottom lip between her teeth, she pulled up the keyboard one more time. 

     you can save that video btw !

—————

(Y/N) practically bounced in her spot, eyes fixed to the front door and Evie in her arms. 

He should be back at any second. 

Like, now.

... Or, now.

Her lips thinned. Evie wriggled in her arms. 

Maybe, now?

A chirping meow left Evie. 

"I know, I know," (Y/N) murmured, "As soon as daddy's home, I'll feed you, okay? He should be home in just a second, Ev—"

The sound of the doorknob turning plucked her attention. Even Evie turned to see what was going on. Finagling out of her arms, the kitten rushed towards the door, large eyes directed upwards, waiting for her dad to appear. 

Pushing open the door, Harry was revealed, in a comfortable all black outfit with the hood of his sweatshirt draped over his head. Just as she pictured, he still had gum being chewed between his molars. His eyes were tired, though there was a spark that filtered through his gaze when he saw the tiny creature at his feet. 

"Hi, Ev," he murmured, duffle bag dangling over his shoulder as he bent down to pet between her ears. "I missed you so much, little." 

(Y/N) smiled at the affectionate tone of his voice, her hands clasped into a bundle under her chin. 

Harry lingered with his cat for only a second before he peeked up at her. Right where she was perched on the arm of the couch, a silky short dress clinging to her form. Stockings on her legs. 

"Hey, you."

Launching herself at him, (Y/N) flung her arms around his neck. Harry didn't hesitate before he reciprocated her hold, caging her to his c test with the bar of his arms around her back. Lifting her feet off the floor, he tucked his head into her neck, twirling her with the tips of her toes grazing the floor. 

"I missed you," she murmured, taking in the perfume of his scent. The sheets were beginning to dull, and while she had the full-size of his cologne in their bathroom, it didn't have the same notes that his skin, his laundry, his hair had. It didn't smell the same without the warmth of him underneath.

Harry pulsed his arms around her, the muscles blocking out of his body keeping her steady in his hold. "I missed you too, baby. Next time, you're coming with me, okay? We'll figure something out for Evie and your classes." 

"Okay," she blindly agreed, nodding her head in his neck, "I'm coming with you." 

Taking in a deep breath, Harry shifted his hold on her until he had an arm barred around the back of her thighs. It took a tap of his fingers on the plush skin, the strip between the hem of her nightdress and the lace of her stockings, to get to wrap her legs around his hips. Armed with both his duffle and his love, he started towards their bedroom. 

"Wanna shower with me first, or should we do that after?" 

"After?" 

She felt the breath of his laughter fan across her bare shoulder. 

"After I keep my promise. Y'didn't wear all this for nothing, right?"

(Y/N) only locked her ankles around his back. 

"Shower after." 

His hand shifted, giving her backside a small swat. 

"That's what I thought." 

—————

this has been a long time coming so I hope everyone likes how it turned out! thank you sooooo much for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and pleaseee if you have anything fun like an idea or request pleaseee send it in!

[good-chimes]

THE DIVORCE OF THE CENTURY

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS BETWEEN GRIAN AND GOODTIMESWITHSCAR, DAY 1:

His Hon. Judge BdoubleO100: Silence in the court!

[Court is not silent]

His Hon. Judge Bdubs: Silence in the COURT! I can have you all HANGED!

[The court falls as silent as is possible with a dozen Hermits present]

Judge Bdubs: Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—

Cleo: Ahem.

Judge Bdubs: WHAT?

Cleo: That’s for weddings, Bdubs. We’re not doing a wedding. In fact, if you think about it, this is about as far away from a wedding as you can get.

Judge Bdubs: Fine fine FINE. Dearly beloathed, we have all been dragged here today because SOME PEOPLE can’t get ALONG. Grian, step forward!

Grian: Do I— is this the podium for witnesses? Who built this and why did they make it out of nothing but trapdoors? So. Okay. I’m filing for divorce.

Scar: Wait, I thought I was filing for divorce.

Judge Bdubs: LET THE DEFENDANT SPEAK.

Ren: Bdubs, my man, that’s the petitioner. The court hasn’t accused Grian of any crimes.

Cleo: [darkly] Yet.

Grian: I haven’t done any crimes! I’m filing for divorce from Scar, obviously. As my lawyer will tell you—

Judge Bdubs: Do you have a lawyer?

Grian: Yes, your Honor. This is my defense lawyer Mumbo Jumbo Esq. [Waggles a hand behind his back and hisses] Mumbo!

Judge Bdubs: Mumbo’s your defense lawyer? Aren’t you supposed to have a divorce lawyer?

Mumbo: [steps forward and bows nervously] Well, I’ve never divorced anyone, but I have got a lot of experience in defending, er, mainly myself, come to think of it, and also my valuables. From Grian, as a matter of fact. So I think I’ll stick with ‘defense lawyer’ if that’s alright with the court, thank you. 

Judge Bdubs: [leans aside to confer with Cleo] Is that alright with the court? Ask Joe.

[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms this is probably alright with the court]

Judge Bdubs: Good, good, next! Scar, do you have a lawyer?

Scar: Oh, absolutely. My lawyer is this cat I found outside.

Judge Bdubs: Not Jellie?

Scar: Jellie doesn’t believe we’re really divorcing and wouldn’t come.

Judge Bdubs: Is this cat a qualified divorce lawyer?

Scar: She’s a—let me look at those markings—she’s clearly a personal injury attorney.

Cleo: Have you been personally injured, Scar?

Scar: Why, thank you for asking, I have. My feelings have been very hurt!

Ren: Uh, Bdubs, maybe the court should establish some facts. Why they’re divorcing, what the court can do for them, that sort of thing.

Judge Bdubs: YES. Let’s start with the facts. Now, we all know why you and Scar got married in the first place. Don’t stand there and make that innocent face at me, Grian, I know all the secrets. You got married because Etho and I had the WEDDING OF THE CENTURY last month and you were JEALOUS—no, don’t talk, THE JUDGE IS TALKING—you were jealous of us. [aside] Bdubs and Etho had the wedding of the century, Joe, are you writing this down?

Court Scribe JoeHills: Yep, your Honor, I’ve written that down.

Grian: It wasn’t that good.

Judge Bdubs: YOU TAKE THAT BACK.

Grian: Etho had his bouquet wrapped in a Kleenex box.

Scar: [sentimentally] Don’t you listen to him, Bdubs, I thought the flower arch was lovely.

Judge Bdubs: Thank you, Scar! I—

Cleo: You can’t find in favor of Scar because he said something nice about your own wedding decorations.

Judge Bdubs: [with dignity] —was NOT going to do that. Ahem. So, you and Scar got married because you were jealous—

Grian: We didn’t! It wasn’t like that!

Judge Bdubs: —and now you want to get divorced. Why?

[At this point Petitioner Grian and Petitioner Scar, who have been studiously avoiding each other’s gazes, appear to lock eyes by accident. They both jerk away like they’ve touched a blaze rod. Grian immediately swivels to face the bench, and this scribe has to note that at normal times Grian’s stare is disconcertingly like two soulless voids looking back at you, so it’s even worse when he’s attempting a poker face. Scar becomes very interested in his cat defense lawyer and doesn’t look at Grian at all.]

Grian: The thing is, you see, this marriage was a scam from the start.

*

EVIDENCE #1

[Dramatization by Court Scribe from participant testimony]

One month previously, a note landed in Scar’s bedroom attached to a firework rocket with a red bow and rose. This was very romantic, or at least it would have been romantic if the rocket hadn’t lodged in the rafters and set itself and a chunk of the surrounding wall on fire, but in any case it was clearly Grian making an effort, so Scar deciphered the coordinates scribbled on the charred note and set off to find out what was going on.

They pointed to a spot in the middle of nowhere. In Scar’s long experience of Grian, this meant an equal chance that they were going to make out or he was going to get inventively murdered, but this was always a gamble worth the odds.

But when he arrived, on a green hill in a quiet spot of the server, it was neither. The top of the hill had been leveled off and covered with birch wood, on which Grian was industriously spelling out something with white wool, though Scar couldn’t make out the words from his low angle of approach. Grian stopped when he spotted Scar and launched up to meet him. His wings beat so fast they were nearly vibrating.

“Scar,” Grian said, “Scar.” His grin was one of a cat who had stolen not only the cream, but the milk, the cow, and everyone else’s cows for good measure. “Scar, I’ve had an idea.”

This was clearly a planning-a-prank type of meeting, which probably meant no making out, but Grian’s pranks were not to be missed. “I’m in,” Scar said. “Do we get fancy costumes? I want a fancy costume.”

“No, Scar, that’s not the point—wait, yes, actually.” Grian angled his wings to carve tight spirals around Scar’s coasting flight, always a sign of excitement, and nudged the angle of their joint descent to land on top of the white wool scrawls. “Yes, fancy costumes are a big part of it, but that’s not—listen, this is my big gesture. Just look down.”

Scar looked down. The wool said, WILL YOU MARR.

“I ran out of wool,” Grian said. He flapped a hand. “Just because it’s a big gesture doesn’t mean it has to be finished.”

“What was it supposed to say?” Scar said innocently.

“Scar!” Grian shifted from foot to foot when he got agitated, which was always funny. “Fine! Okay! Stand there.”

The hidden trapdoor beneath their feet gave way as Grian pressed a switch. Scar yelped for form’s sake, but nothing exploded, and the only thing at the bottom of their tumbled slide was an underground bunker.

It had a table, and two chairs, and a huge corkboard on the otherwise blank walls. Grian had always had a thing for bunkers.

“This,” Grian said, with a flourish, “is the Wedding War Room.”

Scar looked around the bunker and asked the important question. “Are you going to decorate it?”

“Am I going to—no, listen, that’s not the point either. You can decorate it, if you want. The point is, you know how Bdubs and Etho got married?”

“It was beautiful,” Scar agreed immediately. “That wedding chapel? Incredible, honestly, Bdubs is a true artist. Oh! Remember the part where Etho put a river of lava through the chapel roof and glitched it into a heart?”

“Okay, but, you know what Bdubs and Etho got?

“Eternal happiness?”

“Scar.”

“No, what?”

“Bdubs and Etho got royal diamonds,” Grian said impressively. “From the vault.”

“Are they still royal diamonds if Ren’s not king anymore?” Scar said. “I thought we blew up the vault, anyway. You blew it up. I was there.”

“Do you pay any attention to anything that’s not Scarland?” Grian said. “Mumbo didn’t know what to do with the diamonds so he and Iskall built a new vault. I think Mumbo and Iskall and Impulse are the only ones who really know how to get into it. Anyway, everyone got so warm and fuzzy about Bdubs and Etho’s wedding that they all decided to open the vault up and just gave them diamonds.”

“Free diamonds?” Scar said thoughtfully.

“Free diamonds!” Grian’s eyes glittered. “Think of that vault. Stacks on stacks on stacks of diamonds. Thousands of diamonds! We could have some of those, for nothing, just by saying some words. And that’s not even mentioning the wedding presents! We’re out here spending days and days grinding resources and stocking our shops when we could be swimming in it! That could be us, Scar.” Scar had entirely forgotten the lack of interior decorations; he always did, when Grian got on a roll as mesmerizing as this.“And so,” Grian took a deep breath and held out his hand, “Scar, will you marry me?”

Scar took his hand with an enormous wave of affection. “Grian,” he said sincerely, “I have never, in my whole life, wanted to marry anyone more.”

*

EVIDENCE #2

Mumbo took the news more earnestly than Grian had expected.

“Oh,” said Mumbo. “Oh, haha, wow—seriously? Scar said something and I thought it was just a joke, but you guys actually… Wow!” He cleared his throat. “Grian, mate, it’s been a long time coming. I’m so happy for you.”

“Don’t get sappy,” Grian said. “It’s just a wedding. I mean,” he clarified, “it’s a very important wedding, obviously, because it’s my wedding, but I don’t need you to get sappy about it. I don’t even need you to talk about it. I just need you to bring diamonds.”

“I didn’t even know you were going to ask him,” Mumbo said, ignoring the very clear instructions Grian had just given him. “Or did he ask you, or—mate, that’s just brilliant. This is brilliant. Is it because Bdubs and Etho had that wedding? That was really beautiful, I don’t mind saying, I got a little bit teary.”

“This has nothing to do with any weddings anyone else had,” Grian said with dignity. “Our wedding will be better, but that’s unrelated. I didn’t come here to talk about that. I came here to ask you something.” He took hold of Mumbo’s hand in the most meaningful grip he could muster. “Mumbo, we’ve been friends for years, right?”

“Of course,” Mumbo said nervously.

Grian gave it a second’s pause for the sake of drama. “Mumbo Jumbo, will you be my best man?”

“Ah,” Mumbo said, which was not what Grian had expected. “Ah. Er. Might be a problem there.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Well, you see, five minutes ago, Scar…”

*

EVIDENCE #3

<Grian> scar

<Grian> scar

<Grian> scar

<GoodTimeWithScar> yES?

<Grian> my base.

<Grian> now.

<GoodTimeWithScar> On my way

GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard

<GoodTimeWithScar> oNE MINUTE

<Grian> come in the back door

GoodTimeWithScar hit the ground too hard

<GoodTimeWithScar> Was that a trap??

<Grian> mumbo is mine

<GoodTimeWithScar> No he isn’t, Mister!

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager

Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]

<Grian> MUMBO IS MINE

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Vindicator

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Ravager

Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using [HoTgUy]

<Renthedog>: :o

GoodTimeWithScar burned to death

<Renthedog> Everything okay there, gentlemen?

<Grian> best man debate

GoodTimeWithScar was poked to death by a sweet berry bush

<Grian> all settled now

<Renthedog> wait

<EthosLab> Wait

<BdoubleO100> WAIT

<TangoTek> are you two…?

<Grian> invitations dropping tomorrow. wedding gift mandatory.

<GoodTimeWithScar> Come one, Come all!

<Grian> only diamonds will be considered real presents

<PearlescentMoon> huh

<impulseSV> omg finally! So happy for you guys!

<PearlescentMoon> be honest Grian, is this because Bdubs and Etho got married and you had to one-up them?

<Grian> NO IT IS NOT

*

EVIDENCE #4

The bachelor party negotiations were even more hard-fought than the best man.

They held the impromptu negotiations in the Wedding War Room, which was now covered with loving maps and hundreds of bits of paper that neither of them had read since putting them up there. They looked good, though, so Scar kept adding more.

There was a pile of paper strips on the table in front of them. Scar and Grian sat facing off like two negotiators at a ceasefire.

“Mumbo’s my best man,” Grian said, picking the first name off the pile without breaking eye contact and moving it to his side of the table, “so he comes to my party.” Scar gave in with a modicum of grace. The possibility of having bachelor parties at different times had been wordlessly considered and then summarily dismissed by both combatants.

Scar escalated it to a blood sport as he picked up the next bit of paper. “Pearl’s coming to my party.”

Grian yelped and grabbed Scar’s wrist. “She is not. I knew her first!”

“I know her better,” Scar countered. “Or at least,” he added, “I know her building style better.”

“You can’t just steal my friend because you like her building! That’s not how that works!”

“I think she’d enjoy it,” Scar said meditatively. “I’m going to have champagne. Glitter. Razzmatazz.”

“I will have more champagne,” Grian said mutinously. He hadn’t taken his hand off Scar’s wrist. “And more razzmatazz. You can’t have Pearl.”

“Oh, all right then,” Scar said, since Pearl was one of Grian’s oldest friends and he’d never had a chance of getting her anyway. Grian plucked the piece of paper out of his hand and put it on top of Mumbo’s paper. “I get Bdubs, though.”

That was a given. Grian didn’t seriously dispute it, though he opened his mouth to try. “I—yes, fine. You can have Bdubs.” Scar swept the piece of paper to his own side of the table.

“And that means,” Scar proceeded, with the grand momentum of a train starting to roll, “that I get Etho, as well.” He shuffled through the bits of paper and displayed Etho’s name like a magic trick.

He watched Grian calculate his chances of getting Etho if Bdubs was going to Scar’s party. “…okay, yeah, you get Etho.”

“Also that means I get Cleo,” Scar said. “She’ll come if Bdubs does. We don’t want to split up friends.” He drew Cleo’s name towards him, sliding another couple of slips underneath it at the same time. “Oh, and Joe as well, if Cleo’s coming.”

“What’s that other one?” Grian said suspiciously. He trapped Scar’s hand and pried out the third name. “What—no, you can’t have Ren.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Scar said in his most reasonable voice. “Hear me out. I have Cub, right?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, I have Cub, and Bdubs, and Cleo, and Joe, so, by royal decree…”

“You can’t have Ren just because the five of you were in a royal murder cult with him!”

“Excuse me, mister, that wasn’t a cult. That was the royal court!”

“It was too a cult,” said Grian, a man who had once persuaded Ren into living in camper vans in the woods with him for weeks in order to break into a military base and steal a magic box.

Ren’s name was already safely on Scar’s side of the table. “And if I have Ren, then I have to have Doc—”

“Look, Scar, if you get all of Bdubs’ current and former exes—”

“—what’s a ‘current ex’—”

“—Etho and don’t interrupt me, if you get everyone Bdubs has ever had a relationship plus their plus ones you get ninety percent of our friends.”

“Is it my fault I throw good parties?” Scar protested. “Look, you can have—”

“I’m having Impulse,” Grian interrupted, pulling his name out. “I need more redstoners.”

“What for?”

Grian waved a hand. “You just need them around.” Scar nodded, unable to find a flaw in the logic. “Also I get Joel. And Martyn. And Timmy.”

“I built Jimmy a train,” Scar objected. He put his fingertips on the other end of Jimmy’s name while Grian attempted to steal it.

“All right, this is the ‘disputed’ pile,” Grian said, pushing it to the side. “Who else?”

Now they had a disputed pile, it started filling up. “If I have Cleo,” Scar said, “then technically I should have Scott—”

“You can’t keep using that trick!” 

“Then how are we going to fix it, Grian?” Scar’s tone was eminently reasonable. “I think we should just let people be friends.”

“They are friends,” Grian said. “They’re friends with me.”

“They could be friends with me.”

“Tell you what,” Grian said, a warlike gleam coming into his eyes. “We’ll ask them.”

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):

Judge Bdubs: So that’s how the split started?

Cleo: You weren’t even married at that point.

Grian: Right! Exactly! We weren’t even married and Scar used underhand methods to steal my friends!

Scar: Excuse me. You went around the server threatening everyone who you didn’t think was coming to your party. Talk about underhand methods! I just offered them a good time.

Grian: Your bribed them! You bribed them to come to your bachelor party! [stabs a finger at Judge Bdubs] You even bribed him, so I don’t know why we put him in charge of this divorce.

Judge Bdubs: Nobody is allowed to question the integrity of the judge! I am as PURE AS THE DRIVEN SNOW.

Scar: That’s a good point. I gave you netherite, Bdubs, you should be ruling in my favor.

Judge Bdubs: You gave me ONE netherite ingot, I’m not giving you a ruling for that.

Scar: Grian, I think this judge is biased.

Judge Bdubs: HOW DARE YOU.

Grian: Scar is right, this judge is corrupt! I can’t believe we were forced into this farce of a trial and the judge is corrupt! Joe, I demand a new judge.

[Court Scribe JoeHills indicates that he is pretty sure this whole divorce trial was Grian’s idea in the first place, and also that judges cannot usually be replaced just like that, and the Court Scribe personally does not have a reserve list]

Judge Bdubs: I refuse to SIT HERE and be SLANDERED! You’re both guilty! [slams gavel] TAKE THEM TO THE DUNGEONS.

[Court Scribe JoeHills confirms that the petitioners have not actually been accused of anything—despite obviously having committed many crimes, Cleo would like to me to record—so cannot be found guilty, and in any case we don’t have any dungeons]

Judge Bdubs: Fine! I give up! CLEO, YOU’RE THE JUDGE NOW.

Judge Cleo: Wait, am I?

[Judge Bdubs forcibly transfers the judicial wig to Cleo, upon which the snakes in her hair make a spirited attempt to eat it.]

Scar: Can we get on with it?

Judge Cleo: Yes, you can shut up. You can all shut up! Thank you. That’s better. Are you sure you two can’t just settle it out of court so we can all go home?

Grian: No, we can’t. Me and Scar have [checks his notes] undergone an irreparable breakdown.

Scar: Sure, we might have had an eruptable breakdown, but you can’t say it was my fault. I tried to make it work. I built us a honeymoon island! It had palm trees and deckchairs and everything. I’m coming here in good faith and I deserve to be the innocent party.

Grian: I want all the diamonds Scar has.

Judge Cleo: Joe, is he allowed to ask for that?

[Court Scribe diligently references the law summary he found on the internet, suggests that at this stage the judge can grant temporary financial orders on petitioner request]

Grian: Fine, I want half of Scar’s diamonds.

Scar: I need all my diamonds for Scarland materials!

Grian: They’re not your diamonds! They’re my diamonds!

Scar: Then I get half of all your dark prismarine, thank you very much, that will be amazingly useful.

Grian: You’re not touching my dark prismarine! I’ll sell it all if you try!

Judge Cleo: Nobody is touching anyone else’s anything! Ren, stop laughing, this is a serious courtroom. Grian, you’re not allowed to sell your dark prismarine. Scar, you’re not allowed to hide any of your diamonds. Everyone is going to keep things exactly as they are until this trial is done.

Grian: Do you trust him? Look at him, look at his face, would you trust that man? Of course you wouldn’t! All the diamonds should stay in my base while we’re having the trial.

Scar: This is outrageous! This is an outrageous demand! You can’t just question a man’s honor like that!

Judge Cleo: Well, put them somewhere safe. Joe can keep them.

Grian: [grudgingly] I suppose we could put them in the Royal Vault.

Judge Cleo: You want to put your valuables in escrow?

Scar: I don’t see what birds have to do with it.

[Short pause while the concept of ‘escrow’ is explained to both petitioners]

Scar: Well, I’ll do it, but I think Grian should put all his resources in nestcrow. Seeing as it’s all his fault.

Grian: I did everything right! I was the perfect groom!

Judge Cleo: You know, Grian, somehow I have my doubts. Go back to your marriage testimony. What happened next?

*

EVIDENCE #5

“Ahem,” said Mumbo. “Ahem.”

Grian rolled his eyes, jumped up on a table, decided that wasn’t good enough, flew up and perched on the light fitting, and yelled, “Everyone! It’s happening! The best man is speaking!”

Silence fell.

“I was actually going to announce you,” Mumbo said. He cleared his throat. “All right! So! This… is a bachelor party!”

The bachelor party–all three of them–looked at each other.

“Woohoo!” said Iskall.

“Party time!” tried Pearl gamely.

“I was promised champagne,” said Scott, who had been lured through the portal with one bribe only.

“There will be champagne,” said Mumbo. “As best man, it is my job to plan the bachelor party, and to plan a party that is… appropriate, and thoughtful, and informed by my long friendship with Grian, so,” he coughed, “if everyone could check the boxes under their chairs for supplies, we do have an event. Sort of thing. Kind of a party game.”

“Er,” said Pearl, checking under her chair. “This is… quite a lot of...”

Iskall started to giggle.

“Seriously, I was promised champagne,” said Scott.

“Yes, yes, we’ll get to that,” Mumbo said. “First, we’re going to sneak into the other party and blow them all up.”

“...so many ender crystals…” whispered Pearl.

“Look how they sparkle!” said Iskall.

“What about the—”

“And! When they’re all dead,” said Mumbo, “we can take their champagne.”

Grian flew down from the light fitting and landed in front of Mumbo. His eyes were shining. He took Mumbo’s hands in his. “Mumbo,” he breathed. “I’ve changed my mind. Can I marry you instead?”

“Er,” said Mumbo. “No?”

“Did you even order any refreshments?” said Scott.

“Listen,” Mumbo said, “it’s Grian’s party, we were going to end up doing this anyway, and it’ll be fun.”

“Dibs on blowing up Scar!” said Grian.

“We understand, Grian,” said Pearl.

“I suppose that’s sort of romantic?” said Scott in an undertone. “You’d think he’d have more trauma about it, after all the–”

“This is going to be so funny,” Grian said, scooping up handfuls of ender crystals. “Best–best man–ever.”

*

EVIDENCE #6

The actual wedding was a subdued affair.

The wedding venue had just about survived, by virtue of being several hundred blocks away from either bachelor party, though the smoking craters were visible in the background. From the front, the building was a charming mansion with flowers in every window. From every other angle it might be a gray shell, but Grian was a very busy person who was getting married and he couldn’t be expected to get to everything.

On the morning of the wedding, when Grian finally pieced himself together and dragged himself back from respawn he was met by the two Best Man candidates: Mumbo, who was sitting on the step of the venue dismally trying to piece his scorched suit back together, and Cub, who was completely unruffled and appeared to be doing a crossword.

“Oh, Grian, you made it.” Mumbo abandoned his scorched hems in relief. “Some people haven’t even respawned yet. We really do need Scar, though—”

“I’m here! I’m here!” Scar, impeccably dressed in a blue morning suit, swooped in from above, trailing flowers and losing his top hat in the process. “Gosh. Nobody else made it, huh?”

“I don’t believe this,” Grian said. “None of them?”

“Weren’t you supposed to open the portal again for the Empires people?”

“I forgot,” Grian said. “But we can’t focus on that. We have to focus on the fact that at least twenty Hermits promised to come, and now they aren’t here.”

“I, um,” Mumbo said. “I take full responsibility for the original idea, but I think the seventh time you blew up Bdubs and Ren and Doc and Zedaph you did blow up all their stuff as well. And I think some people got hit so hard they won’t respawn for a week.”

“That was their fault,” Grian said. “For being in the way of my ender crystals.”

“Seven times?” Cub said.

“Oh, as if you’ve never blown up someone and all their stuff seven times and pushed their respawn into next week.”

“So, what?” Scar said. “Do we just…not have a wedding?”

Mumbo coughed. “I think you should still get married.”

“What?”

“I just think,” Mumbo gestured vaguely. “You know, your whole thing. And Jevin made you the suits and everything. It would be a shame. You could have an intimate wedding without any guests, you know. I’m just saying.”

Grian attempted to trade a skeptical look with Scar. This didn’t work, as Scar had gone faintly red and wasn’t looking at him. “An intimate wedding, you mean, right here?” Scar said. “Now? Oh, yes, of course, but you know, now I come to think about it, I don’t know I can get married.”

This smelled like weakness. “What’s wrong with marrying me?” Grian demanded. “Are you backing out?”

“No, I—I need my top hat! I can't get married without my top hat!”

“Are you scared, Scar?”

“Of course I'm not scared!” Scar said indignantly. “We’ll do it right now! Who’s marrying us? Oh—Joe’s still respawning, isn’t he? Cub, you can do it, can’t you? Cub’s an ordained priest, you know.”

“That’s right,” Cub said agreeably.

“Is he?” Grian said suspiciously. “Which religion?”

Cub’s faint smile didn’t change at all. “Don’t worry about that.”

“You don’t want to think too hard about it,” Scar said breezily. “But he’s very official! Very well-respected in the community.”

In all their planning, Grian had given no thought at all to the actual wedding. He was nearly certain that the chanting from the officiant was supposed to be pleasant and inoffensive, about, well, love and stuff, and he was also fairly sure the officiant’s eyes were not supposed to turn black as a flaming rift appeared behind him spewing an unknowable sense of dread, but at that point Scar kissed Grian thoroughly, and that lasted so long that Mumbo had to break it up after a few minutes with a polite cough, and by that time Cub had finished chanting and gone back to his crossword.

“That was very touching,” Mumbo said, apparently relieved they weren’t still kissing right in front of him. “Shame about the guests, but you can’t have everything.”

“Shocking,” Scar agreed. “Do they still have to give us presents? Maybe if we waited a week and did it again? I have to say, I could use a little more time to get the trees right on Honeymoon Island.”

“We’re not having a honeymoon, Scar, I told you,” Grian said. “This wedding is just business, and we don’t have any business without the presents.”

Mumbo was wearing the expression that Grian had always vaguely compared to an accountant breaking the bad news about something unspeakable going on in the stockmarket. “To be honest with you,” Mumbo said, “I don’t think many of them were in a present-giving mood. I think, um, you might have to write off the presents.”

“Are you telling me,” Grian said, “that this whole scheme has been a complete failure?”

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):

Judge Cleo: So, let me get this straight, the plan was to scam all of us—

Scar: Scam is a strong word. More like a trade, if you think about it! A trade where we get presents and you get a warm sense of fuzziness and wellbeing.

Judge Cleo: —exactly, to scam us, and it all went wrong, and you realized the marriage was a mistake? That was weeks ago, though. What happened between that and the divorce?

*

EVIDENCE #7

LIST OF POST-WEDDING WRONGDOING COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR, VARIOUS (condensed from two hours of court arguments)

i. “Well, then I took some deepslate from Grian because I needed it for Scarland, which is just borrowing, if you think about it.”

ii. “Scar really owed me diamonds because it was his fault the scam didn’t work.”

iii. Lengthy descriptions of the damage from ensuing weeks-long prank war.

iv. “He should honestly have expected me to put chickens in his storage system.”

v. Evidence received from Xisuma that this lagged out the entire server.

vi. Evidence received from Grian that Scarland lags out the entire server anyway and this is probably a crime so why can’t the court do something about that.

vii. Strong representations from both sides that the other one snores and hogs the covers and this probably ought to be a crime.

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):

Judge Cleo: [face down on judicial bench] Have they stopped talking yet?

Court Scribe JoeHills: No, they’re still going.

*

EVIDENCE #8

FURTHER LIST OF WRONGDOINGS COMMITTED BY GRIAN AND SCAR

viii. “Yes I did blow him up after that, but it’s not illegal if it’s funny.”

ix. Complicated debate about whether ensuing sabotage was funny enough not to be illegal.

x. Representations from Grian that everything is Scar’s fault with absolutely no legal backing at all.

xi. Representations from Scar, ditto, with the addition of fake law he says his cat defense attorney told him.

xii. At this point, Court Scribe JoeHills has given up attempting to make sense of the petitioners’ ongoing argument.

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 1 (CONTINUED):

Judge Cleo: Enough! ENOUGH! No! Shut up! If I have to listen to one more attempt at utterly specious reasoning from either of you I am going to pick up this gavel and I am going to drive its handle through my own skull. This is definitely both your fault, you are terrible people, and I hope you get divorced harder than anyone has ever got divorced in history.

[Mildly stunned silence in the court]

Judge Cleo: Right. Good. I am about to quit. But before I quit, because Joe asked me nicely to come here today, I am going to order one of you to serve the other with divorce papers before tomorrow. That’s the next thing on the list: one of you has to formally divorce the other. No, I am not going to hear any more arguments, I’m done with this whole thing, you can find a new judge. Yes, Scar?

Scar: [lowers his tentatively raised hand] How do we know which one divorces the other one?

Judge Cleo: [looks blank] Well… I suppose it’s who serves their papers first?

*

COMPLAINT TO COURT:

Submitter of complaint: SCAR

Body of complaint: Grian wont accept divorce papers and keeps avoiding me.

COMPLAINT TO COURT:

Submitter of complaint: GRIAN

Body of complaint: scar didn’t take a single copy of the papers despite the fact i filled his bedroom with them

COMPLAINT TO COURT:

Submitter of complaint: SCAR

Body of complaint: Grian paid impulse to make a divorce paper printing redstone machine. It feels like this, should be Illegal!

COMPLAINT TO COURT:

Submitter of complaint: GRIAN

Body of complaint: scar employed my best man to make him a rival printing machine. this is sabotage.

COMPLAINT TO COURT:

Submitter of complaint: ZEDAPH

Body of complaint: Er, I know you’re doing a whole trial thingummy, but I would really like to be able to move around my base without swimming through mountains of divorce papers. Does it look like this is going to be possible any time in the near future?

COMPLAINT TO COURT:

Submitter of complaint: DOCM77

Body of complaint: WHY HAVE SEVENTY THOUSAND BADLY-PRINTED COPIES OF DIVORCE PAPERS BEEN SHOVELED INTO THE PERIMETER! I AM HOLDING ALL OF YOU PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE! I WILL RAIN DOWN FIRE AND BLOOD!

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 2:

Judge Mumbo: Right, so, apparently I’m supposed to be ruling on who served who with papers.

Scar: Excuse me! Objection! This new judge is clearly biased.

Grian: No, he’s not. This is all completely fine. Mumbo can be the judge now, and he can just wear a different hat when he’s being my lawyer.

Judge Mumbo: I am a bit biased, I have to admit.

Grian: No you’re not, Mumbo.

Scar: Admit it, there can’t be a fair trial for Grian under these circumstances!

Judge Mumbo: Uh—

Scar: Because I know Mumbo, and he can’t resist these…HoTgUy abs!

[Minor chaos as the court attempts to enforce a dress code]

Judge Mumbo: [removes his wig] Sorry, Grian, he’s right. Scar’s papers are accepted.

Grian: TRAITOR.

Mumbo: Scar, can I have another calendar?

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:

Judge Ren: Court is called to order! Where’s—oh, there you are. Scar, you’re late.

Scar: Sorry! I was working on our honeymoon island.

Grian: What do you mean, our honeymoon island? Scar, we’re divorcing.

Scar: That doesn't mean you can just abandon a build, Grian. Some of us don't leave our backsides unfinished.

Cleo: Someone please get Ren a glass of water, I think he’s going to choke.

Judge Ren: Ahem. Now, gentlemen, I understand Scar is filing for divorce from Grian on the grounds of [checks his notes] desertion, abandonment, and unreasonable behavior.

Grian: Excuse me, what! If I’ve been unreasonable, what about him?

Scar: I have been a model of rationality and recti— rectic— ridiclitude.

Judge Ren: Indeed. I have heard Scar always finishes his backsides.

Grian: I’ll give you unreasonable behavior! This whole thing is your fault! If your bachelor party hadn’t been so badly defended I wouldn’t have been able to blow you all up.

Scar: Well, mister, if you hadn’t overthrown Ren in the first place he might have shown up to our wedding in spite of it!

Grian: If you’d been better at your job I wouldn’t have been ABLE to overthrow him!

Scar: You—you—oooh, I oughta—

Grian: [tauntingly] Ought to what?

Judge Ren: Scar, no, not in court…!

Scar: HOTGUY! [Retrieves bow from improbably small pocket and summarily murders his co-petitioner on the witness. Chaos ensues. Trial name hastily changed.]

TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1:

Judge Ren: Listen, Scar, did you, or did you not, kill another petitioner right in front of me?

Scar: What? Oh, yeah, I just shot Grian.

Judge Ren: You can’t just—My dude, this might have been a crime of passion, but you understand this is a court and that was murder, right?

Cleo: Objection.

Judge Ren: Yes?

Cleo: We can’t start prosecuting for murder now.

[Pause as the court considers the comprehensive history of all Hermits present.]

TRANSCRIPT OF TRIAL PROCEEDINGS FOR THIRD-DEGREE MURDER, DAY 1

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3:

Judge Ren: [once Grian has returned from spawn] You’re going to have to come to some sort of agreement, gentlemen. It’s been days.

Grian: I think we should fight.

Judge Ren: This court does not do trial by combat. I refuse to be witness to such barbarity.

Cleo: I mean…if you think about it, it would stop them arguing.

Judge Ren: …

Judge Ren: I think I could stand to watch someone else compromise their morals. From a distance. Who wants this wig?

Judge Pearl: [settling in at the bench] Right! I think you two should fight. To the death.

Grian: LET’S FIGHT.

Judge Pearl: Riding ravagers.

Scar: What?

Judge Pearl: It would be funny.

Scar: Ravagers, though—

Grian: Don’t listen to Scar, he just murdered me. He doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Scar: Alright! Alright, we can fight, but I’m only doing it if it’s somewhere dramatic.

Grian: …What do you mean, dramatic?

*

TRANSCRIPT OF DIVORCE PROCEEDINGS, DAY 3 (CONTINUED):

[The court has moved proceedings from its custom-built courthouse to a location considered ‘acceptably dramatic’ by Petitioner Scar. We are now in the dim, cavernous monolith of the Royal Vault, where the walls are sheer deepslate lit only by flickering lanterns, and mountains of diamonds and chests gleam softly in the shadowed gloom. The court is gathered here to watch the petitioners fight symbolically over their own escrowed valuables, which are piled in the middle of a stone platform built by Grian and Pearl, and see a final conclusion to this bitterly-fought split. At either end of the platform are pens with two enraged ravagers donated by Tango, salivating at the buffet of violence and blood about to—]

Judge Pearl: [leans over the edge of her observation chair] Joe! What are you doing down there scribbling?

Court Scribe JoeHills: Oh, I’m just adding narrative color.

Judge Pearl: Well, stop doing that and pay attention to the fight! We’re about to start!

Bdubs: FIGHT!

Cub: Let’s go!

Mumbo: Grian, mate, you’ve got this.

Bdubs: RUN HIM THROUGH, SCAR. TEACH HIM TO MAKE FUN OF MY WEDDING DECORATIONS.

Doc: What happens if they both die? I would like them both to die.

Judge Pearl: Contestants! Mount your steeds!

Grian: [has succeeded in landing on his ravager’s back, something Scar has not yet managed] I want you to know, Scar, that whatever happens—

Judge Pearl: Scar! You can’t just stand there, you have to TRY to ride it.

Grian: —I think we can count this as a—

Bdubs: FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

Scar: [his head comes up to look at Grian] —a double victory?

[As if this is a code word, Grian and Scar’s gazes meet. The Court Scribe feels obliged to note that when Grian and Scar smile at the same time, history suggests something terrible is about to happen.]

Scar: Well, hello there, Mister Ravager! Would you like to get out of that pen?

Bdubs: Wait, what’s he—Scar, you ain’t supposed to break the wall that lets them at us! SABOTAGE!

Judge Pearl: GRIAN!

Grian: [shrieking as his ravager swerves into the crowd of spectators] Scar! The switch!

[Your trusty Court Scribe hurriedly dives out of the way as Scar flings himself into the pile of his and Grian’s valuables, where the tell-tale glint of redstone has been hidden under the piles of chests.]

Ren: Why do both of them have all those empty shulkers?

Cleo: Wait, wait, did we just give Grian and Scar unfettered access to all the diamonds in the vault?

Judge Pearl: WATCH OUT, THEY’VE HIDDEN TNT UNDER THE—

[Scar slams a switch. The world explodes. The Judge and most spectators are instantly blown up. The only survivors are your Court Scribe, who managed to get behind an obsidian pillar, and Cub, rising above the chaos on pre-equipped elytra wings with the philosophical serenity of someone who saw this coming.]

*

POSTSCRIPT

It’s a beautiful day, the sky is a clear and serene blue, and Grian and Scar have gotten away with everything.

Grian coasts joyfully ahead of Scar on outstretched wings, loaded down with boxes and boxes of ill-gotten diamonds, looping head-over-heels only when he can’t contain the energy bubbling through him. “We are the greatest, Scar. We are geniuses. We are the greatest geniuses who ever lived.”

“Oh, we are,” Scar agrees instantly. A lesser person might have pointed out their first plan failed spectacularly and their hasty second one only succeeded by luck, but this is why Grian married Scar specifically. Only he’s not married to Scar any more, is he? For one shining moment Grian had forgotten that.

The crater of the Royal Vault is far below and receding, the debris scattered like little jeweled toys. Grian is recalled to the present gleeful moment in which they are geniuses who have pulled the whole thing off and are richer than every other hermit put together. “Where are we going?”

“I was following you,” Scar says.

“I didn’t think this far ahead! I only planned up to the part where we stole everyone’s diamonds!”

“Oh, well, that’s easy,” Scar says confidently. “Change course to Honeymoon Island!”

Grian doesn’t have a good argument against that, and anyway, he’s too happy and diamond-dazzled to argue. Scar strikes out to the azure ocean and Grian dips into his wake and soars behind.

Scar has outdone himself, as usual. Honeymoon Island is just one long crescent-shaped beach with crystal seas, golden sands, palm trees, deck chairs, and—somehow—little iced coconut drinks that keep reappearing and each have a little paper umbrella. Naturally, Scar hasn’t thought of including a safe room for all their new valuables, so Grian has to dig out a makeshift bunker for all their ill-gotten gains, but when all that excitement is done, Grian throws himself onto a deckchair with a coconut drink and closes his eyes.

“So?” Scar says, in the expectant tone of someone who has spent three weeks fiddling with the palm trees that are currently casting an exquisitely-latticed shade over Grian’s eyelids, despite the fact they were technically divorcing all that time. “What do you think?”

“It is very pretty,” Grian admits grudgingly. “We can’t use it for a honeymoon, though. We’re divorced.”

“Are we divorced?” Scar is thoughtfully making origami out of his paper umbrella. “We did ditch them all before the trial officially finished.”

“Oh, we’re absolutely divorced. Super divorced.”

“I suppose you’re right. No honeymoon for us, then?”

An idyllic silence falls over the palm-fringed beach. The sea laps at the shining sands, creating a soft music from the shells and pebbles. The leaves rustle. This coconut drink in Grian’s hand is surprisingly good.

“Scar—”

“Hey, Grian—”

There is a pause.

“Go on,” Grian says impatiently.

“No, no, I think you should ask.”

“I asked last time!” This is ridiculous. It’s a shame Grian has been enchanted by the ridiculous for years now. “We’re probably not even talking about the same—”

Scar interrupts, which is rude, but unfortunately he’s picked his most golden and unfair voice, like the sea caressing the sand, and Grian is momentarily helpless. “Will you, Grian,” Scar says, “do me the great honor of marrying me? Again?”

Grian throws a paper umbrella at him. “Scar,” he says, “I thought you’d never ask.”

[navybrat817]

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … toji & y/n being a couple for 10 minutes straight pt.3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡˚ 𓂋 ❄﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

꩜ actor!toji x actress!reader

⤷ synopsis : just toji & reader being idiots in luv…

꩜ content : crazy fans, very mild physical violence (toji pushing ppl lol), toji being a little ooc again. this is really not as wack as the warnings are making it sound.

- a/n : loads of people seem to be enjoying this & i enjoy making them, so here you go! :D

. . . part 1, part 2, part 4

masterlists

౨ৎ first clip

(recorded by your fansite) - you & toji are at the airport and it is packed. there are fans swarming you, practically suffocating you & toji, along with paparazzi taking pictures of you, flashing lights in your face. your bodyguards are literally at war trying to guard you and you have to cling onto toji’s arm to even get past the sea of people.

all of a sudden one fan somehow gets way too close, and grabs a hold of your shirt, trying to drag you towards him. you jerk forward and without even hesitating, toji just grabs the face of the crazy fan and pushes him away like it’s nothing, causing a domino effect having other fans falling over as well.

toji puts an arm around you and guides you to check your tickets, ignoring all the chaos he caused behind him.

(this got a lot of mixed reactions, some people siding with toji saying he was just protecting you & others criticising him for his rash actions that could’ve caused people to get injured 💀)

౨ৎ second clip

you & toji were doing a video for WIRED, taking part in their popular series, “Web’s Most Searched Questions” about yourselves.

“okay third question..” you say, and peel off the paper. “are _____ and toji..dating?”

you & toji look at the camera and then at each other, faces hot and you’re both awkwardly smiling before looking at the camera again. you & toji speak. “yeah, i dunno.” “nooo idea.” “literally no clue whatsoever.” “why even ask that like-like we’d know the answer?”

you peel the next question and it’s even worse. “are _____ and toji having- A BABY?!” you shout and cover your face laughing, both in shock and amusement. “what?!”

toji just facepalms, hiding his pink cheeks and sighs tiredly. “christ…”

౨ৎ third clip

you’re at a press conference for the series you and toji are in, all the cast members are gathered on a long table with microphones but it’s a pretty informal gathering and the fans are being very interactive with the cast!

a crew members hands the microphone to a fan who has a question. “hi! hi, i’m sarah and uhm..i have a question for toji. and _____ too! do you think that your characters have a chance of..like..getting together? like romantically-?”

“yeah we’re getting together,” toji responds bluntly, reeling in the loud cheers from the crowd & he decides to add fuel to the fire. “and we’re gonna have a make-out scene too.”

the audiences goes crazy with applause and whistles, while you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head in embarrassment as the cast look to see your reaction.

then the director of the show pitches in, holding her finger up. “just to clarify, we did not discuss this..”

there’s a chorus of laughs and sad ‘awws’ among the pool of fans which only makes you giggle. you didn’t even know what to say to toji’s brashness.

gojo chimes in with his loud mouth while everyone is still buzzing from toji’s unexpected words. “talking about kisses and stuff like. this guy’s just saying what he wants to hear!”

everyone starts creasing up again and you & toji lean your heads to look at each other on opposing ends of the table, and he just smirks at you while you just shake your head and try not to look so obvious..

౨ৎ fourth clip

vogue did a video with you getting ready for a fashion show you were invited to, by the designer herself.

the makeup artists had just finished your shimmery, fairy-like makeup and now the stylists were accessorising you with jewellery and fixing your hair.

“yeah i really like how the hair is done,” you say, referring to the baby pink ribbon tied cutely around your bun. “it’s really cute! and the dress is just so-”

the door to the dressing room opens and toji pokes his head in, the camera zooming in on him. “‘ya done yet?”

“toji?” you ask, exasperated. “toji get out! we’re not finished yet..”

toji looks you up and down in confusion. “ya look done to me. we gotta leave in like-”

“toji i am clearly not finished. we have to go through which jewellery looks the best with the neckline of the dress and..my whole look altogether so it doesn’t drown me out! and then we have to pick the correct shoes and make sure i’m comfortable with them and that they look pretty but also don’t take attention away from the dress. and then for the perfume-”

“yeah, yeah, alright, i get it.” toji totes. “but we have to be there in 30 minutes so-”

“oh toji’.” you sigh, looking in the mirror while the stylist fuss around you. “it’s okay if we’re late. i’m the main event. the designer invented me personally. they won’t even start the show if i’m not there. it’ll be fine, trust me.”

toji looks at you for a moment and then simply shrugs, nodding and accepting your words.

౨ৎ fifth clip

“so yeah, this is the book i’m reading.” you hold up ‘pride & prejudice’ to the camera for your fans to see. you were on a livestream, which you don’t usually do, and many fans were watching. “i just love this book. the characters are-”

loud, thudding footsteps can be heard in the background and you pause. a deep, clearly a man’s voice can be heard and then a shirtless toji walks into frame (as identified by his tattoos bc his face is not on camera). he reaches out of frame.

“sorry, jus’ forgot my shirt.”

he puts his shirt on, not even realising what he just did in front of 50,000 people and walks out of the room

it all happened so fast, you sit with your jaw open like a fish, holding your now forgotten book in your hand while the chat goes wild, spamming questions of “who is that?” “is that toji?” “you and toji are together?” in a frantic, chaotic fashion.

you just look at the camera and reach forward, abruptly ending the live. fans did not stop talking about this moment for months and they most certainly did not believe you when you said toji was just at your house for a little ‘visit’.

౨ৎ

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie

a/n: yk how hard it is to think of ideas for this omg 😭💔

[olailamajnoon]

Jason appeared one morning on a summer's day. He was fresh and clean, and missing his customary violent tissue scars.

Bruce saw him enter the Manor, and held his breath. He didn't want to shake anything, shake the universe in any way to make Jason go away.

It's a dream, he said to himself. The Red Hood swallowed up my son. It's a dream.

Dream-Jason spoke up, munching Froot-n-Nuts in the kitchen. "Bruce. Where the fuck is everyone?"

Bruce stared in horror. Jason's face was clean of any hate. Why? He knew, then, that something was Very Wrong.

"No one is here," he said casually. "The house is empty, as you can see."

Jason nodded okay, and moved to go upstairs. "Jason," Bruce called. "What are you doing?"

"Going to my room!" Jason called. "I wanna see it! I know I don't live here anymore, but—I wanna see."

"Okay," said Bruce, already speed-dialling Dick. "Jason! Don't run up the stairs!"

"Okay," Jason called meekly.

Dick arrived in half an hour, to find Bruce and Jason sitting next to each other, watching Prince of Egypt.

"Wha—" he almost said, but Bruce shushed him with a finger. "Come, take a seat!" Jason called.

"Wha—" said Dick again, but then he caught Bruce's gaze from the corner of his eye. Bruce was warning him to keep silent.

When there was a popcorn break, Dick and Bruce conferred in the kitchen.

"The last thing he remembers," said Bruce, "is Zatanna."

"Zatanna did this?"

"She hasn't been answering my calls." Bruce roamed angrily, his hands tight by his sides. "She fucked with my son."

"She took away his anger! His—" Dick searched for a word.

"Hate," said Bruce. "That's what you're looking for."

"And without those things? He's like a lobotomized sheep!" Dick was angrier than Bruce had ever seen him. But then a sound came from inside the room, and both Dick and Bruce opened the door to find Jason playing with a sleepy Ace. The loyal old dog was licking Jason's fingers, and Jason was laughing.

Literally and actually laughing.

The two men looked at the boy Jason had become. The wonder and innocence in his eyes.

"Is this what he would have been like," Bruce murmured deadly, "if the world hadn't found him and taken him apart."

"I don't know," said Dick, with hot bitter desperation, "but that kid in there? That's not Jason. Not my brother."

"Hey Dick!" Jason called, and then snickered. "You remember how we used to take Ace out on walks while it was freezing, after making him wear the dog sweater?"

And Dick looked numbly at Jason's expectant, childlike face, and burst into tears.

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face™.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow @travelingtwentysomething @shoujo-wizard @stripey82 @live-laugh-love-dietrich @cr0w-culture @notaqueenakhaleesi @bookworm0690 @r0seprincess @estrellami-1 @little-annie @dreamercec @tinyplanet95 @rawrx3ky-txt @bexinator3000 @justalittledrainbamage @scarletyeager @themoonagainstmers @yesdangerpls @mydysfunctionallife @maverickricky @silentiumdelirium @i-amthepizzaman @samsoble @foolishness-and-confusion @dragonmama76 @gregre369 @thewickedkat @lexr86 @martinskis-lydias

[pucksandpower]

Smooth-Talker

Lando Norris x press officer!Reader

Summary: in which Lando has a pick up line for every occasion

“Did it hurt?” Lando asks, leaning casually against the wall outside the McLaren garage.

You glance up from your clipboard, raising an eyebrow. “Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven,” Lando says with a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. As one of McLaren’s press officers, you’re used to Lando’s constant stream of corny pick up lines and good-natured flirting.

“You know, I think that line was old even when my grandpa used it.”

Lando clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch, straight to the heart!”

You laugh and continue reviewing the schedule for the race weekend. Lando falls into step beside you as you start walking towards the paddock.

“But seriously,” Lando says, “You should be arrested.”

You glance over at him. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“For stealing my heart,” Lando says with a wink.

“Mhm, nice try,” you reply dryly, though you feel your cheeks flush slightly.

“Hey, are you religious?” Lando asks.

You raise an eyebrow. “Not particularly, why?”

“Cause you’re the answer to all my prayers,” Lando says earnestly.

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “That one was pretty good, not gonna lie.”

Lando pumps his fist triumphantly. “Yes! I knew you’d like that one.”

You reach the motorhome and pause, checking your watch. “Okay Casanova, I’ve got to prep for the press conference.”

“Before you go, quick question,” Lando says, gently catching your arm. “Do you have a map?”

You frown in confusion. “A map? What for?”

“Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” Lando says softly, gazing at you.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you meet his own warm eyes. You open your mouth but no witty comeback comes out.

Lando grins and releases your arm. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winks and saunters off towards the hospitality tent.

You watch him go, butterflies swirling in your stomach. You’ve always thought Lando was cute, with his curly hair and infectious smile that lights up any room. But since joining McLaren, your feelings have slowly deepened into something more. And based on his incessant flirting, you’re starting to think maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way.

Shaking your head, you refocus on the task at hand — prepping talking points for the upcoming press conference. Still, you can’t stop thinking about Lando and the way he always seems to make you blush and smile, even with his cheesy pick up lines.

Over the course of the race weekend, Lando continues his campaign of corny pick up lines and flirtatious banter. Between FP3 and qualifying, he sidles up next to you in the garage.

“You know what you would look really beautiful in?” He asks.

You glance over at him. “Hmm?”

“My arms,” Lando says with a cheeky wink.

You bite your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. “Lando, I’m trying to work here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lando says, though he’s clearly not sorry at all based on his impish grin.

Following qualifying, Lando scrambles out of his car after setting the fastest lap. He makes a beeline over to you through the celebrating crowd of papaya.

“Do you have a Band-Aid?” He asks urgently.

You frown, instantly concerned. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”

“No no, I’m fine,” Lando assures you. “I just scraped my knee falling for you,” he says with a roguish smile.

You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. “Oh my god, Lando, that was terrible!” You try to look disapproving, but end up laughing.

“Worth it to see you smile,” Lando says warmly before darting off again.

On race day, you’re feeling anxious. As you pace around the paddock, you literally run into Lando.

“Whoa there!” Lando says, catching you by the shoulders. Concern flickers across his face. “You okay?”

You nod, acutely aware of his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Yeah, just nervous I guess.”

Lando rubs your arms reassuringly. “We’re gonna do great. And you know what else is great?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“The view,” Lando says, gaze locked on you. “Pretty spectacular from where I’m standing.”

You duck your head, heart pounding. When you look back up, Lando is watching you closely. He seems to be debating saying something else. After a moment, he just squeezes your shoulder gently. “We’ve got this,” he says sincerely, before heading off to get ready for the race.

You take a deep breath, feeling bolstered by Lando’s encouragement and flirtatious comment.

The race gets underway and immediately descends into chaos. Multiple collisions on the first lap bring out the safety car. You watch anxiously from the garage as the pack circulates behind the safety car for several laps while the debris is cleared.

Finally the message comes across the radio - the race is going green again on the next lap. You glance at the screens and see Lando lining up in P3 for the restart. You cross your fingers and silently will him to have a clean restart.

The pack accelerates for the restart and manages to get through the first few corners without incident. Over the next 20 laps, Lando battles fiercely to maintain his podium position. Other drivers try to challenge him but he holds strong in P3.

With 10 laps to go, you’re on the edge of your seat watching Lando defend P3 with everything he’s got. Suddenly over the radio you hear Lando’s frustrated voice. “Something’s wrong with the car, it’s down on power.”

Your heart sinks as you listen to Lando’s increasingly concerned radio calls about the lack of power. He’s slowly losing positions as the laps tick down. By the last lap, he’s fallen from 3rd to 7th from the sudden power loss.

As Lando’s car limps across the finish line, you hurry down to meet him. He pulls off his helmet and balaclava, looking weary and disappointed.

“Lando, are you okay? What happened out there?” You ask worriedly.

“I’m fine. The car is just a bit banged up,” Lando says with a tired smile. “Not sure what happened with the engine yet though.”

You hesitate, then wrap Lando in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you murmur.

Lando seems surprised but hugs you back firmly. For a long moment, you stand there just holding each other, the sounds of the paddock fading away.

Finally you step back, smiling shyly up at Lando. “So, P7. Could’ve been worse I guess, considering the issues you had.”

Lando nods, scrubbing a hand through his wild curls. “Yeah, could’ve been much worse. I’ll take the points.” He smiles ruefully. “Not quite the podium I was hoping for to impress you though.”

You bite your lip. “Lando ...”

Lando rushes to fill the silence. “You know what’s on the podium of my heart?”

You sigh, though you feel your pulse quicken. “What?”

“You,” Lando says softly, gazing at you with open affection.

You stare at him, heart thumping wildly. Before you can overthink it, you grab his race suit and pull him in for a kiss. Lando makes a surprised sound before wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply. For a blissful moment, everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Lando has a dazed, elated look on his face. “Wow … so does this mean all my cheesy pick up lines finally worked?”

You laugh and smack his chest playfully. “I don’t know if I’d say they worked … but they did make it very clear someone has a crush on me.”

You smile up at Lando, enjoying the faint blush on his cheeks.

Lando grins. “Maybe just a small one,” he teases. His expression turns more serious. “I really care about you, Y/N. And I’d love to take you on a proper date, if you’d like?”

Your heart swells and you nod. “I’d really like that.”

Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to outshine the sun. He squeezes you in another quick hug. “I better go debrief about the race. But I’ll come find you after?”

You nod, giddy butterflies taking flight in your stomach. “It’s a date,” you say with a smile.

Lando heads off looking like he just won the championship, with a spring in his step and grin on his face. You brush your fingers over your still-tingling lips, scarcely able to believe that really just happened.

After Lando finishes his lengthy post-race debrief, he finds you packing up for the day in the paddock. “You ready?” He asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Ready!”

You head out of the paddock hand-in-hand, both still riding the high of finally admitting your feelings for each other.

“Sooo, what exactly did you have in mind for this date?” You ask Lando curiously.

Lando grins. “Well first, how do you feel about Ferris wheels?”

You smile slowly. “I think Ferris wheels have potential to be very romantic.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Lando says with a wink.

You spend the evening strolling around the nearby funfair, enjoying the lights and sounds. Lando wins you an oversized stuffed teddy bear playing carnival games. You share candy floss and corndogs while taking in the sights.

Finally, you hop in line for the Ferris wheel. When it’s your turn, you settle into the seat across from Lando. As the wheel lifts you into the night sky, you take in the sprawling city views.

Lando slides closer and slips his hand into yours. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

You smile, loving how he still seems nervous even after kissing you earlier. “Smooth line, but I’ll allow it,” you tease gently.

Your Ferris wheel carriage reaches the top and pauses, giving you a panoramic view of the city at night. The lights twinkle like stars around you.

It’s magical.

Lando’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer. Your heart races as you turn towards him. His eyes reflect the dazzling lights as he gazes at you. He brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch igniting sparks along your skin.

As he leans in, you let your eyes flutter shut. His lips meet yours and the rest of the world fades away. Up here above the world, wrapped in Lando’s arms, you feel like you’re flying.

By the end of the night, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Lando walks you to your hotel room, fingers intertwined, reluctance slowing your steps.

Outside your door, you turn to face Lando. “Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.”

Lando smiles, tracing patterns on your palm with his thumb. “So I did alright for a first date then?”

You laugh. “You far exceeded expectations.” Your smile softens. “I’m really happy.”

“Me too,” Lando says, eyes shining. He takes a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically nervous again. “So, I was wondering … and feel free to say no obviously! But, um, I have two tickets to the Arctic Monkeys concert next weekend and was hoping maybe you’d want to ...” he trails off, biting his lip anxiously.

Your smile widens and you squeeze his hand. “I’d love to be your date to the concert.”

The answering grin that lights up Lando’s face is breathtaking. He punches the air, looking adorably excited. “Yes! This is going to be epic.”

You giggle at his antics. “Well this was a really fun first date. I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have planned.”

You lean in and kiss Lando softly. As you pull back, Lando clears his throat.

“Y/N, can I tell you something without you getting mad?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously. “Umm sure, I guess?”

Lando winces slightly. “I was wondering if you could give me directions ...”

You look confused. “Directions? To where?”

“To your heart,” Lando shoots you a cheesy grin.

You stare at him for a beat, then burst into laughter. “Oh my god, Lando, that was so corny!”

Lando just smiles unrepentantly. “Maybe, but did it work?”

You continue giggling and shake your head. “I don’t know why I find your cheesy lines so charming, but I do.”

You lean in and give him one more quick kiss. “Goodnight, Lando. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lando’s eyes shine happily. “Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he says, squeezing your hand before slowly backing away towards the elevator.

You watch him walk down the hallway, giddy butterflies still fluttering away in your chest.

You have a feeling this is the start of something special. A lifetime of cheesy pick up lines sounds pretty damn perfect.

[irisintheafterglow]

[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Fifteen

— Little Big Aftermath [aka the end]

Series Masterlist

wc: 3k

we’ve made it to the end guys! I just have to say I never thought I’d complete this story and that too fifteen parts of it but to all those who read it and motivated me to keep writing, thank you. While it is the end of the official story, I will continue to take requests for blurbs on specific scenes you’d like to see. However, there won’t be a set posting date on these blurbs, it’ll be out whenever it’s requested and completed. Once again, thank you so much for those who were here since the first chapter, and here’s to more fic series in the future. P.S lemme know if you want to be tagged in the blurbs.

Your frown grew deeper as you turned in the direction your daughter had pointed, unfortunately spotting Tyler. Luckily, he wasn't looking at you two since he was focusing on the podium celebrations about to happen.

"I didn't know daddy was here, mama." Picking Isabella up, you shook your head, "I didn't know either, angel, but let's focus on Max for now okay?"

She gave a nod of agreement and applauded for the drivers, Oscar and Lando in particular, who finished second and third in the race. She did, however, cheer the loudest when Max, as he has done after almost every race this season, stepped onto the top step of the podium.

He was having trouble finding you and Isabella right away in the crowd, and you could see the slightest frown forming on his face until a smile emerged when he succeeded, connecting his gaze with yours.

Isabella giggled as Max held his hand up to wave at her before blowing a kiss in the air in your direction. His behaviour drew Lando and Oscar's attention to you as well, with the former driver rolling his eyes at Max jokingly and Oscar smiling at the interaction.

However, you didn't realize that someone else was also looking at you because your gaze didn't waver away from Max.

The champagne bottles were popped, and this time Isabella was awake to see it all, watching with fascination as it was the first time she was able to see it in person. "I wanna do that, mama," she pointed at the drivers spraying the alcoholic drink, soaking each other's race suits while laughing. "Maybe when you're older, Bella."

"When I'm 7?" She asked, and you chuckled, "a little more than that, sweetheart."

Once the celebrations were over, a huge part of the crowd dispersed, the teams resuming to their usual scheduled routines, preparing for post-race debriefs and other meetings. "Where's Maxy going?" Isabella asked, watching as he was led away by someone clad in a RedBull uniform.

"He's a little busy with interviews, but he told me that he'd come back as soon as he's done," you explained, knowing that Max had a post-race conference and a few other duties lined up.

Isabella huffed, "but he won the race." She rested her head on your shoulder for a moment while playing with a strand of your hair—the habit formed back when she was a few months old.

"Yeah he did, which means he's very famous right now and so many people want to talk to him," you explained and while she nodded in understanding, she still pouted, "I wanna talk to him too."

"Why don't we wait for him inside his driver's room?" You asked, turning around when she nodded.

You had almost reached Max's driver room—a place he had suggested for you and Isabella to stay to wait for him, but pausing in a secluded area as a familiar voice called out, "Isabella!" then heard your name as well. Isabella squirmed in your lap, wanting to get down after seeing Tyler walk up to you both. You sighed, knowing that you'd have to stop and chat.

"Tyler," you greeted, and awkwardness hung in the air for two seconds before Isabella decided to speak up. "Daddy, you said you were busy, what are you doing here?"

Despite her hesitance to stay at her father's place, which she still hasn't done since the day she was discharged from the hospital, she frequently spoke to him over the phone.

Unfortunately for him, Isabella rarely forgets promises. While he was busy playing the "good father" role after your ultimatum, he had make false promises, agreeing to everything she asked for without hearing her out properly. In that conversation, she asked about the promise he made of taking her to a race before she had met Max.

While you and Max had taken her once, she still wanted to experience the thrill with her father since he was the one who introduced the sport to her.

He glanced at you, silently asking if he did in fact claim that he was busy, and frowned when you nodded. "Oh Bella, sweetheart, I didn't know that I would have the time to be here, it was an unexpected decision or else I would've brought you along, but you're here anyways!" He tried to uplift her mood, but instead of hanging on to every word he spoke like she used to do, she just shrugged.

Deciding to divert the topic of conversation, Tyler asked, "did you enjoy the race?" He stepped forward, kneeling down to be closer to her but on instinct, Isabella moved away, clutching on to your hand tightly.

He frowned, once again glancing up at you after noticing her behaviour, but you didn't let an ounce of emotion show on your face. "I'm so happy Maxy won!" She exclaimed, her mood improving for a moment as she thought about him.

Standing up to his full height, Tyler looked at you, "why don't we sit and chat for a moment?" Pressing your lips together in a tight smile, you replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."

He scoffed, then shrugged, "fine, have it your way like always." You were not in the mood to indulge his stupid comments which would eventually lead to an argument, in fact you were here to enjoy the weekend with your boyfriend who you dearly missed in this moment.

His eyes widened briefly when you didn't respond to his comment, wondering how you changed so much in a matter of a few weeks that you couldn't care less about him anymore.

"Hey Bella, why don't you show daddy the caps that you got?" You prompted another topic, that Isabella quickly agreed to. Tyler's gaze remained on you for a moment, understanding that you truly had no intention on speaking to him longer than necessary. The conversations you did have were only necessary due to your daughter, but even those texts and calls started becoming less and less frequent.

Isabella took off her Red Bull cap, which had autographs from Max and Checo, to expose a Ferrari cap with two more signatures from Charles and Carlos, and then a McLaren cap that undoubtedly featured two signatures from Oscar and Lando. She caught up to Lando and Charles, who had given her their hats earlier, as well as their teammates, to obtain signatures. She then wanted to get autographs on her RedBull cap as well. When she asked Max and Checo, they chuckled with the latter claiming she had them all at her beck and call, but they nevertheless signed the cap.

Isabella ended up stacking all three caps on her head because she couldn't choose which one best matched with her outfit. She began explaining the story behind the signatures, and Tyler intently listened, asking a few questions in between as well.

"And then-" Isabella's gaze wandered off, eyes lighting up in excitement as she spotted, "-Maxy!"

Without any hesitation she ran up to him, colliding with him as she tried to wrap her arms around him, earning a low, "oof" from him.

Picking her up and settling her on his hip, holding her up with one arm, he held up his other hand that had a medal hanging from it. Max placed the medal around Isabella's neck, which he received on the podium earlier along with his trophy. "We won, princess," he commented, smiling as wide as she did.

She held both of her hands up, imitating the action Max did as he held his trophy on the podium, causing him to laugh. You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, and could hear their laughter from a few feet away.

Walking towards you as Max was initially planned on doing, he noticed a man next to you, which based on your descriptions was Tyler. He decided to overlook him for now, instead greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.

Tyler held his hand out, "great race, congratulations on the championship. I'm a huge fan by the way." Max, nodded politely, still holding Isabella in his arms but shaking his hand nonetheless. "Thank you," he prompted, waiting for the man to introduce himself to confirm his suspicions.

"Oh, so you're Tyler." Max glanced at you for a moment, watching as you tried to hide your smile behind your hands because of his antics. "Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" He questioned, and Max was quick to retort, "well, it's not really the best thing now is it?"

"I don't understand," he trailed off, and your boyfriend shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't understand, it's okay," he patted Tyler's shoulder in faux consolation. You had to take a step back so Tyler wouldn't see your expression, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.

Tyler was quick to catch on to the condescending tone Max spoke with, looking at you—after you composed yourself fortunately. "So what, you get invited to one race and you guys are best friends now?" He asked, a hint of jealousy you were familiar with revealed in his tone.

"More like she's my girlfriend and they're here to support me," Max clarified. Tyler looked at Max, then Isabella, finally understanding why she was always so enamoured by him.

He scoffed, "oh great, enjoy my sloppy seconds then mate, I will warn you though, it's not worth it because a few months later she'll show you a positive pregnancy test and force you to be a father."

Your jaw dropped, instantly responding, "in front of my daughter?" You glanced at Isabella who was in fact hearing all the words spoken, only frowning due to yours and Max's expressions as she didn't understand the full context of the words her father had said, just knowing that it wasn't good.

Max wiped his hand over his mouth, jaw clenching while his warm gaze turned cold within seconds. "Apologize, now," he instructed, trying to hold himself back from causing a fight.

"Now why would I do that? It's true." Max placed Isabella back on her feet who quickly shuffled over to you, standing behind your legs. "How dare you stand here claiming to be my fan yet talk shit about the person I love?" The driver placed his hand on Tyler's shoulder again, but this time you could see the fear bubbling up in his eyes as his grip tightened.

Still, Tyler managed to scoff, "love? Bold claims there. Sorry to break it to you but she's probably just with you for your mon-" he couldn't finish his sentence because he was punched square in the jaw by your boyfriend.

"Max!" You shrieked, and watching the interaction, Isabella held on to your hands tightly with tears welling up in her eyes. You picked her up again, noticing that Tyler was fuming in anger. "Gonna fucking sue you for that," he spit out some blood, but Max only shrugged, "try me."

Fortunately, you guys were stood in between the team motorhomes, which meant you were slightly hidden away from public eye due to the buildings covering the scene.

Readying himself for another punch if needed, you shook your head, "it's not worth it, Max."

"Yeah Max, listen to your girlfriend," he taunted, angering you in the process. "Will you ever shut up?" You shot back. Max glanced at Isabella who had hid her face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you. Although he couldn't see her face, he guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.

Nodding as a silent agreement with Max, you decided to walk away from the scene as you didn't want to expose Isabella to any more of this argument than what she has already heard. Glancing at Max once more, you hoped that your expression was indicating something along the lines of, "don't do anything too bad."

However, you could hear Max's words as he began speaking to Tyler, "listen here you little shit..." but you didn't stick around to hear the entire conversation, smiling to yourself knowing that Tyler would finally be put into his place—that too by his favourite driver.

Finally entering his driver's room, you sat down on the couch sighing in relief. Isabella was still in your lap and you ran your hand up and down her back in a soothing motion because you could feel her sniffling against you. "Bella," you murmured, wanting to see her adorable face.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, sweetheart." You kissed her head before brushing your hand through her hair. You heard her mumble but didn't catch her words, "what was that?"

She lifted her head to look at you, and you frowned seeing the tears staining her cheeks. "Why is daddy so mean? I don't like him."

"Some people are just mean for no reason, and unfortunately, your daddy is one of them," you explained, no longer covering for him knowing that after what Isabella witnessed, she wouldn't want to be near him no matter what you said.

She frowned but didn't respond, leaning her head against your shoulder again. You didn't disturb her peace, knowing that after the eventful day, she needed some quiet time.

Max entered the room a few minutes later, and he smiled to greet you but it fell flat. He pointed at Isabella, then put his thumbs up to silently ask if she was okay, but you shrugged.

"What did you say to him?" You asked, knowing that whatever conversation followed probably wasn't kind. "I told him that I'd ban him from future races if I saw him anywhere near you or Bella, and he left."

You knew that it probably wasn't that easily done, but you didn't ask for more details.

You had thought Isabella fell asleep since she hadn't moved in a while, nor could you see her face, but she lifted her head up to look at Max once she heard some shuffling about in the room.

He paused as soon as his gaze connected with hers, unsure of how to initiate a conversation because he did literally punch her father. Isabella wiggled off your lap, and both you and Max thought that she would walk away further into the room so her next action surprised you both. Running towards Max, she held her arms out, engulfing him in a hug.

"You're better than my dad, Maxy," she muttered, and he audibly sighed, the stress wrinkles on his face disappearing while wrapping his own arms around her smaller frame.

"Thank you, princess," he whispered back, and she pulled back to kiss his cheek. Isabella looked back at you, smiling when she saw you smile as well. "Thank you for taking care of my mama," your daughter told Max, and his heart warmed at her words. "Always."

The ring of your phone interrupted the beautiful sight in front of you, but your eyes widened when you saw that it was your mother calling. As soon as you pick it up, you're greeted by hearing your full name.

"Hi, mum," you stood up and walked further away just in case you were about to get a scolding although you had no idea what you could've possibly done. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"Tell you what?" You answered with a question of your own, knowing that she could be referring to anything at the moment. "That you have a boyfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, "how do you know that?" She chuckled, "because a friend of mine called me and told me that she just watched you kiss someone on live television, some racer guy."

Covering your mouth with your hand, you thought back to the moment Max kissed you in front of the huge crowd after getting out of his car, and of course there had to be cameras capturing the moment. "Max, he's a Formula 1 driver," you explained.

"Wait, the same Max that Bella talks about?" You hummed, "the same one."

"I'm glad you finally moved on from your daughter's father, but I'm also sad that you didn't tell me sooner and I looked foolish because I didn't know until my friend told me about it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think my relationship would be broadcasted live. Plus, I think the chapter with Tyler is finally over, for both me and Isabella."

"That's good to hear, she doesn't deserve a father like him. Is Max good to you?"

"He's the best to both of us, she lights up with joy every time she sees him." Your mother hummed as she heard your response, "then me and your father have to meet him one day."

You heard some laughter in the next room where Max and Isabella were, and you smiled at your mother's words, "I hope we can come by soon, I'd love to introduce him to you and dad."

After saying goodbyes and promises to meet soon, you returned to the room Max and Isabella were in, pausing in the doorway at the sight in front of you. Just like how Isabella was sitting in your lap earlier with her head against your shoulder, she did the same to Max.

You were about to make your presence known when you heard your daughter's question. "Maxy, why do you call me princess?"

Max's gaze found yours, always finding you whether you were standing in the corner of the room or in a crowd. "Because your mama is the queen," he responded casually, as if he was stating a fact.

Isabella lifted her head, "does that make you the king?" He shrugged, "I guess it does."

She giggled, "and does that mean we get a happily ever after like the storybooks?" Max reached his hand out towards you, asking you to join them which you obliged to easily.

"Ours is better than the storybooks," he stated, placing a kiss on Isabella's forehead before pecking your lips briefly.

The End.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @wonnou @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

[miniwheat77]

You belong to me. (Ghost x Reader.)

!reader is a Virgin, virginity loss, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Ghost is a little possessive, this is age gap smut and you’ve been warned. Ghost is like 40 in this. Absolutely NO minors!

This is not edited so sorry for any mistakes

He doesn’t know what did it.

He doesn’t know which part of you started this… obsession.

Maybe it was your smile. Or your personality. How lively you were for being in the military. It was a cruel job and you still managed to be so happy.

Maybe it was just that you were not his normal type in women. A young virgin. Who despite being exposed to some of the toughest situations out there was still so innocent.

But something caused it, made him have that one dream. He was tucked away in his bed, sound asleep. He seen your face as he fell into a deeper sleep. You were laughing and smiling. Turning to him to acknowledge him as he walked into a room. Greeted him with a kiss.

Ghost woke in a hurry, where on earth it had come from. He doesn’t know. He had never had these feelings for you before this. They came out of nowhere. And it started fast. Like he got sucked into a black hole and could no longer figure a way out. He was gone- done for. Every second he spent around you after that, he dreaded. Because Ghost didn’t do this. He didn’t have feelings for people. But your smile. Your laugh and how it could pierce his ears from what felt like miles away. How when you spoke to him, like you were talking to a friend made his brain foggy as he watched your lips move. Lost in a daze. Most of the time you had to repeat yourself because he was so spaced out he heard none of it.

He knew he was in too deep when he started looking into you.

Finding all of your social media accounts. Coming across every single post you’d ever been featured or tagged in. He knew who your parents and grandparents were and how close you were with some. He even snuck into Price’s office once and stole any file that contained you. He knew everything there was to know about you, down to your shower routine at night.

Ghost knows he’s got to be sick for how obsessed he’d become but he just couldn’t help himself.

When he came to the conclusion that you must be a virgin, he was by your side always.

If anyone else found out that you were a virgin- it would be bad. Especially some of the men who they called enemies. They were cruel and dangerous to women. During any missions at all, Ghost was right with you.

When it started, you didn’t understand it. Why he was all over you all of a sudden but you didn’t mind. You liked Simon. If he wanted to be friends, that’s okay. You didn’t mind. It wasn’t until he was killing for you that he knew he had a problem.

When an enemy had put their hands on you, he was merciless. He could be brutal, violent. But never to you. Not ever. It ate him alive that he liked you so much and he couldn’t have you. You weren’t his. You didn’t have to listen to him, you didn’t have to consider what he said. You had no ties to him whatsoever and it drove him mad. Ghost was bothered deeply by his infatuation with you. You would never go for someone like him, not when he’s old enough to be your dad. Some nights, when it’s especially cold. He can barely stand it. He wants you close to him, by his side at all times. He wants you. He wants it all.

“Alright. let’s have a chat, shall we?” Captain Price’s voice snags Ghost out of his thoughts.

He’s sitting off to one side of the large oak table sat in the middle of the conference room. Everyone else is inside as well. You’re next to him because he chose to sit down next to you. “Obviously, we’re going to go on a break for a few weeks, I wanted you all home for a while to relax before we started up on these next few missions. If you didn’t want to go, I can still find you guys something to do on base. There will still be other commanding officers and some other new recruits keeping it up and running. If you wanted to stay on base I need to know by tomorrow.”

Ghost will always respect Price. Always.

“I’d like to stay on base, Captain.”

Ghost respected him, and right now he almost wanted to give the old man a kiss once you’ve spoken up.

“Okay, Y/N. Anyone else?”

“Me, always.” Ghost mumbles. “Right, obviously.” Captain Price nudges him. “Workaholic.” Price mumbles, making Simon smile underneath his balaclava.

Ghost doesn’t hear another word of the meeting. You don’t say anything else and that’s all he wanted to hear. Although he wondered why you were choosing to stay on base when you had a family.

Once the day came when everyone else left, Ghost was going to miss them. He always did during breaks. Especially on the few he’s been left alone. He missed Price’s lectures. Soaps banter, Gaz’s pranks. He missed them all, they were the only family he had of course. But he didn’t mind this time, not since you’d be around. You keep him company until they came back, if you liked it or not. Ghost was getting soft as he got older, he knew it. But he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t really want to anymore. He liked to be close with people even if he knew it would kill him if he lost any of them.

It takes a few days before Ghost finishes up what he usually does. Cleaning up his room, getting rid of some things. He likes to reset completely when he has the time. When he’s done, he finally decides to seek you out.

It seems as if you’re doing the same, your door is propped open and he walks right inside. “Hey.” You’re reaching for a book on a bookshelf. “Oh, hey Ghost.” You smile at him. You turn back to the bookshelf, turning back to him in a hurry. The book topples over onto you and you step away as the rest follow suit. He can’t help but laugh. “You’re.. not wearing a mask.” You blush. “No, I’m not.” He laughs. “You need help?”

“No I just didn’t expect you to come in here with your face out like that!” You laugh, picking up the books and setting them on your bed. “I mean.. I can put it back on.” He laughs. “No! No- I just. You caught me off guard that’s all.” You blush, avoiding his gaze as you stumble over his words. “You can’t walk in here practically naked, I mean you’re showing so much skin.” You joke. You can actually see his lips turn up in a smile and it makes your chest ache just how handsome he is. “Yeah, I know it’s a lot of handsome to just throw around like this.” He smirks, hearing you laugh. He loves it.

If he could only hear that for the rest of his life, he’d never complain again.

You roll your eyes.

“I see we had the same idea, bit of a reset.”

“Yeah, I just wanted it to all be set up and clean for when we go back out. Swear I’m still cleaning up sand from our trip to Iran.” You laugh. “Oh god me too.” Simon laughs. He sits down on the edge of your bed, watching you as you replace the books. He offers you help of course but you deny it. “I was wondering why you chose to stay, I thought you had mentioned visiting your parents?” Ghost doesn’t miss the way you stiffen.

“Uh.. well.” You turn to him. “It’s.. kind’ve… personal I guess.” You mumble. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He looks up at you. “It’s just this.. family friend we have.” You start, looking at the cover of the book in your hands. “He’s been my dad’s friend since I was in my early teens.” Ghosts hair stands up, worried at where you’re going with this. You sit down at the small desk you have in your room. “He always acted really weird when I was around and when I was home last… he tried.” You pause. “He tried making a pass at me, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It turned into this whole thing. My dad got involved and him and my mum didn’t believe me. They believed him. So yeah, they planned this big party for me to come back. But I found out they invited him so I lied and said I was stuck here. But.. I think you needed some company anyways.” You smile. You’re trying to make light of what you’ve just told him.

“I’m sorry to hear that. He didn’t touch you did he?”

Ghost knows he’ll track him down. Torture him for laying a finger on you.

“He tried.”

Ghost nods. “He left with a bloody nose.” You laugh. “You know, if he ever does anything to you. This entire base will have his head on a pike.” He looks up at you. The way he looks at you has chills rising on your body. He’s deadly serious. You smile. “I appreciate it, but I don’t plan on going back. Not when they sided with him so easily.” You laugh. “Ah, you get to missing them too much, just take me with you. I’ll be your body guard.” He laughs. Inside, Ghost is seething. How dare he. How dare he try to hurt you.

“I appreciate it, but I’m not putting you through that. They’re hard to get along with. Besides that if I brought him a guy twice my age I’d probably give my dad a heart attack.” Ghost laughs at this. “What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” He winks, seeing the pink rise to your cheeks has you turning away from him.

“You’re funny.” You giggle.

———

For the next couple of weeks, you spend nearly every second of every day with Ghost. He helps you with your chores, you help him with his. You get done faster and get to spend even more time doing practically nothing together. You aid on a couple of spare missions, he shows you a little bit of mechanic work, he even rents a rental car in the town you’re in so that he could show you around. It’s by far some of the most fun you’ve ever had and you like being so close to Ghost. But there’s been something nagging at you in the back of your mind.

And that’s your growing feelings for him.

Your parents have nonstop harassed you to come home, even if it’s for a couple days. You ended up folding but the thought of leaving Ghost here alone drives you crazy. You never thought you’d be so close to the Lieutenant.

You’re sitting at the edge of your bed when he knocks at your door. Right about now, the two of you would be going down to have dinner. But this time, he shows up with trays in his hands. You smile as you open the door. “Mess hall is full, thought I’d bring you something before there’s nothing left.” He laughs. “Thanks Ghost.” You smile. “Is something going on?” He asks.

“Ah… I just.. thought I’d ask you something.” You say nervously. “What’s up?” He asks. “Well.. my parents have been nagging me to go home.” You sigh. He nods his head, sitting down at your desk. “And.. I told them I’d go home for just a couple days, no longer than a week.” You shrug. He nods his head. “Yeah? Are you going to be okay?”

“See that’s the thing. I.. was wondering.” You laugh. “If you’d go as like.. my.. I don’t know.” You pause. “Pretend boyfriend?” You laugh. He turns to you. “Yeah, no problem.” He looks up at you. “Wait really?” You ask.

“Course, not like I got anything better to do. Besides, if that bastard puts his hands on you it gives me an excuse to hurt him.” He shrugs. You laugh. “Hey. I really appreciate it. You have no idea.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “My dad is probably going to give you a lot of grief for how old you are though.” Ghost laughs. “Love, I’m in the military. I’ll be just fine.” You smile. Thank god.

———

You sigh, which makes Ghost turn his head to you. “What’s going on?” He asks. He’s pulling into the driveway. “That’s.. his car.” You sigh. “Hey.” He places his hand on your thigh to reassure you. “He’s not going to do anything. I swear I won’t leave your side.” You smile. “Thank you Ghost.”

Captain Price was surprised to hear that the two of you had left together, but after speaking to Simon in private he understood why. Simon felt a little bad for spilling your business but he was your Captain after all. You still had another few weeks before you were due back anyways, you had time to kill. Ghost helps you unload your bags. Carrying them up to the front door with you. Once you reach the door, your mum opens it up.

She’s shocked to see that you aren’t alone.

“Hi Y/N!” She smiles. Bringing you into a hug. “Hey.” You mumble. “Who is your friend?” She asks. “Oh uh.. this is Simon.” You nod. Simon reached his hand out. You can tell your mum is slightly intimidated by the sheer size of him. She takes his hand anyways.

“My boyfriend.”

Your mums eyes nearly bulge out of her head when those words leave your lips but she smiles nonetheless. “It’s nice to meet you, Simon.” She stands to the side. Allowing the both of you inside. “Your dad and Mike are in the back.” She smiles. Ghost can see you go stiff.

So his name is Mike.

“Simon I can show you Y/N’s room. So that you can go see your dad.” She turns to you. “That’s alright, Y/N said she wanted to show me her old room.” He smiles, rejecting her offer. You mentally thanked him. “Oh alright than. Well. I’m just finishing up dinner.” She smiles. “You know where to find us.”

You nod your head, leading Simon up to your old bedroom. “You are literally a life saver Simon.” You mumble the moment the door is closed. He laughs. “So.. am I staying in here with you. They got any strict rules?” He laughs. “No weird rules but there’s only one bed.” You blush. “That’s alright. Just don’t be a blanket hog.” He nudges you. “Let’s go meet Mike.” He grasps your wrist, tugging you along. You groan out. “I know you wanna bite his head off Simon but you can’t.”

“Says who?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Definitely not me.” You mumble. You lead Simon out to the back door to the back yard where everyone now sits. He opens up the door for you, your mum notices how kind he is to you immediately. She didn’t say anything to your dad yet, unsure of how this would go. It’s quiet the moment the both of you move closer. “Uh.. hey honey.” your dad smiles. He’s skeptical. “Who’s this?” He stands up. Ghost sees the man that’s made you uncomfortable. Staring him down from the moment they lock eyes. Only looking away to shake your dad’s hand. “I’m Simon.” He smiles.

“My boyfriend.” You finish for him. Your dad nods. “Nice to meet you Simon. You seem a little old.”

“Ah, to be honest I thought Y/N was older, she’s pretty mature for her age.” He nods. “Yeah, that’s true. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”

“Absolutely.” Simon agrees. Simon can see that Mike is uncomfortable upon hearing that you’ve got a boyfriend. It only makes Simon want to tear him to shreds even more. “Oh uh. Simon. This is Mike, he’s a family friend.”

Simon is sure to grip his hand extra hard as he shakes it. Towering over him. He wants him to feel small.

“Let’s sit for dinner yeah?” Your mum breaks the awkward silence.

It was nice enough outside to be able to sit outside to eat. Everyone keeps asking about Simon. How the two of you met and how you came to be. Simon made up something cute on the spot and you couldn’t deny the butterflies it gave you. Simon is a great man, and it sucks that you have to fake this.

“Hey Y/N. You mind helping me get some stuff out of my car?” Mike speaks up.

“Nonsense, no reason she should do it when I’m around. I’ll help you.” Simon Stands up from the bench. Mike stiffens up. It’s clear that there he had an ulterior motive. He’ll most likely have to come up with something in the spot. Simon expects him to say “oh I forgot.”

He leads Simon to his trunk.

Simon quickly notices that it’s empty. “Oh shoot. Maybe I forgot to put it in here after all.” Simon lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s not that you wanted to get Y/N alone so you could be a fucking creep toward her some more.”

“Excuse me?”

Simon grasps hold of the man, slamming into the back of the car. His hands gripping his lapels.

“She told me about you. And I’m not gonna let her be alone around you because you’re a fucking freak. If you even so much as look at her wrong I’ll bury you. And nobody will ever know where to find you. Do I make myself clear?”

Mike nods his head eagerly. “Yes I understand.” He flinches. “Great. Don’t come around again while she’s here. If I see your face again we’re going to have a problem. And if you tell her dad about this conversation we had, I’ll be sure to make the bullshit worth my while. Now go back in there and let them know you’ve forgotten about something and that you have to go.” He nods his head, and finally Simon lets him go. They both walk back into the house and Simon returns to his spot next to you. “I must’ve forgotten it at home, but my boss called me and asked me to come in for some last minute questions, so unfortunately I’ll have to get going.”

He looks pale. You know immediately something has happened. “Aw, sorry to hear that Mike. You have a good day alright?” Your mum smiles. Simon wants to scowl at her but knows he can’t.

It’s getting late. Both you and Simon are tired from the time zones and your parents are going to go play Bingo, Mike invited them out.

Unusual when you were home. Simon must’ve really scared him. “You two get some rest, we’ll be home later tonight.” Your mum smiles. Once they’ve left, the weight leaves your shoulders. “Fuck me, thank god.” You laugh. You start up the stairs and Simon follows you. “What did you say to him?”

“What are you talking about?” He asks. “Mike looked like he’d seen a damn ghost, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What’d you do to him?”

“Me? Say something to Mike? No way.” He smirks. He stretches back and his jacket raises and you can see his toned stomach, you have to turn away. Swallowing hard. “Liar.”

“I’m the Ghost he seen, darling. But you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Alright?” He forces you to look at him. Nodding your head. “Thank you Simon.”

“Nothing to it sweetheart.” He laughs. “Your parents probably think you’re going through a crisis. Did you see the way they looked at me all day?”

“Yeah. It’s just because you’re older.” You giggle, laying down on the bed. Simon throws himself down beside you. “First guy I’ve ever brought home and you’re almost as old as my dad.” You laugh. You freeze up as the words leave your mouth. “I- I mean-“

“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” He turns to look at you. “What?”

Simon chuckles. “I know that you’re a virgin Y/N.” You can feel your blood run cold. “What? How do you know that?”

Ghost laughs. “I can just tell.” You look down, blushing.

“Hey. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He rolls onto his side, resting on his hand. “It’s actually kind’ve impressive. As pretty as you are I’m surprised nobody has scooped you up and married you yet.” He laughs.

“You think I’m pretty?” You look up at him.

He laughs. “Of course I do. What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought that much into it. I didn’t think I was that pretty.”

“So clearly you’ve never looked to a mirror.” He rolls his eyes. “Tough talk coming from you. I had no idea how handsome you were until you surprised me without a mask on.” You roll your eyes. “Oh? Handsome? Don’t let your panties get too wet.” he winks. Crimson creeps up your cheeks and you shake your head at him. “Shut up. You’re so full of yourself.” You roll your eyes. He laughs. “I’m kidding.”

Once the conversation has died down, you’ve nuzzled closer to him unintentionally.

“Y/N.” He speaks up out of the blue.

“Yeah?” You look at him. “There’s a way to make this easier yknow.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean.. we’re faking it. Right?”

“Yeah?”

“What if we didn’t?”

You sit up, looking at him in confusion. The way your hair falls perfectly as you look at him, so beautiful when you’re confused. “I don’t think I understand.” You laugh. “What if we didn’t fake it?”

“Are.. are you saying that-“

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You didn’t understand metaphors in person until those words left his lips and the earth stopped spinning. It feels like your blood freezes over in your veins. “I-“ you freeze up. He sits up. Taking your hand in his. “I know I’m throwing a lot at you right now. But I’ve felt this way about you for some time. I mean you had to have noticed me coming around you more right?”

“I.. I guess so. I just thought it was because… well I don’t know.” You blush, looking down. “I know a little bit more about you than I should.. and I know it’s wrong of me. You’re so young and I can’t ask you to give up your life for me.” He breathes. “How?”

“I did a little snooping. Through your social media. And.. your file.”

“My file? Like the one in our Captain’s office?”

He shrugs.

Heat pools between your legs, you’ve never been so attracted to anyone in your entire life. “You.. stole files to get to know me?” You look up at him. “Well when you put it that way it sounds like I’m a creep.”

“You are a creep. If you wanted to know you could’ve asked me.” You smirk. You’re clearly poking fun at him. “Yeah, doesn’t take a genius to see how perfectly innocent you are. You n your perfect unfucked pussy.”

Your mouth drops open and you shove him back. “I’m kidding- I’m kidding.” He laughs. “Watch your mouth, Riley. I might be a girl but I’ll still kick your ass.”

“I believe it. I’ll be on my best behavior.” He laughs.

“So what do you say?”

“You really want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask. He nods. “You’re not just saying that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not going to have sex with me and than dump me are you?”

He looks stunned by your question. “I might be an asshole but jeez. Have some faith in me.” He mumbles.

“Fine.” You laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Good, god I’ve been waiting for this.” He sits up, pressing his lips to yours immediately.

He pulls you back beside him, his lips not moving from yours until he feels he’s had enough. He pulls you closer into his side, tugging the blanket up over the both of you.

Simon almost never sleeps well. He spends most of his time awake, seeing nothing but darkness. But with the bedside lamp on, he can see you clearly. And he thinks you’re even more beautiful asleep.

He knows how stressful this has been for you. You never stopped tapping your foot once you left the airport. You never noticed him making an attempt to soothe you. Holding it still so that you would relax a little more. You briefly feel his fingertips gliding through your hair. You’re peaceful when you’re asleep. Nothing bad. You’re safe here, so long as Simon is around.

He only hopes you’ll want him around forever.

———

“Honey… is everything okay?” Your mum asks. Simon is still asleep, it’s early. You’re sitting down across from her at your table.

“What? Why?”

“Because.. Simon is so much older than you honey. You.. you don’t really expect this to go anywhere do you?”

You pause, looking up at her. “Excuse me?” You cross your arms. “Y/N… I’m not trying to be mean okay. It’s just.. men like Simon don’t want a relationship. They just want-“

You raise your hand up, stopping her.

“Don’t you dare categorize Simon.”

She sighs. “Y/N. You know that’s not what I mean. I just mean that men like Simon only have one thing on their mind.”

“Yeah? And that is?”

“You know exactly what I mean Y/N.”

“Sex? You think he’s only with me for sex?”

“Y/N… lower your voice.” She seethes.

“Yeah well if he only wanted me for sex he’d be long gone by now.” Her eyes widen.

“You’ve already slept with him? How long have you been together?”

“Couple weeks.” You shrug. She shakes her head. “I thought we raised you better than this.” You freeze, looking up at her and laughing. “I don’t even want to hear any of that considering you wouldn’t even side with your own daughter after Mike made a pass at me.”

“Not this again Y/N.”

“Yeah, not anymore. Because if he touches me again Simon is going to break his hand.”

She shakes her head. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. I mean for christ’s sake, I kill people for a living.” You scoff. “And for the record. Simon isn’t like other guys. I’ve watched him kill people for trying to hurt me.” You laugh, standing up. “I think we’ll probably be heading out first thing in the morning, this was clearly a mistake.” You make your way upstairs. “Maybe we won’t be here when you change your mind, when he hurts you.”

“You wouldn’t be there anyways.” You roll your eyes. You hear her leave through the front door. Her car starting.

You make your way upstairs. Simon sitting at the edge of the bed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Did you hear that?”

Simon nods his head. “I’m sorry Y/N.” He breathes. “Mike is a fucking creep and they’re fucked up for not believing you.”

“What? No. That’s- no.” You laugh. “I could care less about them believing me about Mike. It’s her shit talking you that drives me crazy. You’ve always been good to me and that’s wrong of her to say.”

Simon laughs. “I don’t exactly have the best rep Y/N. You should’ve known that before you started dating me.”

You turn to look at him, and the look in your eyes has his smile fading. “I… I’m sorry.” He scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Don’t be.” You mumble the words under your breath. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to offend you-“ you start toward him, kissing him hard. You push him back into the bed. “Woah- Y/N.” He pushes you up. “What are you doing?” He breathes. A gasp leaving his lips when you climb on top of him to straddle him. “Shit.” He grits his teeth. “Hey- listen. You aren’t thinking straight.” You look up at him, eyes dripping lust. “I’m thinking just fine.”

He grits his teeth as you rock your hips down into him. He quickly flips you over. “Y/N. You’re not ready for this.”

“Simon.” You’re breathless as you look up at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for this, to be honest.”

He stares down at you. God he wants this, of course he does. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. That’s not him. He lowers himself down again, locking his lips with yours. Your heart is thumping in your chest and he can hear it. “Is this really where you want to do this?” He pulls away. You look around. Biting back a smirk. “I’ll take that as a yeah.” He shakes his head, standing up. The door doesn’t have a lock, so he puts a chair up in front of it. When he turns back you’ve already shed your shirt, and you’re working on your pants. He’s still wearing sweatpants.

“I don’t have anything..” he sighs. “It’s okay.” You nod.

He pushes you back, moving himself between your legs. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. Looking up at him. “M’gonna try not to hurt you.” He breathes. “I want you to know that I’d never take advantage of you. If you don’t like anything at all, you tell me.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I know.”

He slides down the soft pajama pants you’ve got on. He tried so hard not to smother you the night before. He wants it all with you but knows not to move too fast, he doesn’t want to scare you off. He kisses you, moving lower down your body. Scattering kisses over your soft skin. Hearing you whine out as he moves down your chest. Over your stomach and onto your thighs. You lift your head, looking him in the eyes as he glides his tongue through your folds for the first time. The first time you’ve ever been touched by a man. Your eyes grow heavy, and you gasp. He sucks at your clit and watches you squirm as he tongues your clit. You try to clamp your thighs shut but he forces them open. Wanting you to get used to him touching you, relax you a little bit. He’s going to need you relaxed for when he enters you for the first time. He keeps it up for a few minutes until your thighs are shivering. You’re right on the edge but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

Pulling away just as he’s got you to the edge. Hearing you whine out.

You’re already sweaty and your legs are jello.

“Relax. You’re ready for me sweetheart.” He moves himself between your legs, kissing back up your stomach and chest. “You are so beautiful like this. So beautiful.” He shakes his head. “I’m gonna fuck you now. Do you think you can handle it?” He asks. “Yes.” You answer fast. He pushes his sweats down to his mid thigh.

Just then, you hear the door close downstairs. “Shh. It’s alright.” He spits in his hand, gliding it over his cock. Slicking himself up as much as he can. Not wanting to hurt you any more than he has to. He holds your thighs open. Lining himself up with your entrance. He starts to slip between the folds of your pussy, your mouth popping open. He knows you’re about to cry out, clamping a hand over your mouth and burying himself the rest of the way inside of you. Sealing the deal.

This isn’t just casual anymore. You’re his now.

He lowers himself down. Still halted.

“You belong to me.”

You cry into his hand but he muffles it. He slides himself out of you and rocks his hips back into you. Feeling the wetness of your tears on his hand. “My god you are tight.” He breathes. Clenching his eyes shut. He rocks into you at a steady pace. A knock at the door has you going stiff and he rests his hand on your stomach. The other around your mouth still. He draws his hand away from your stomach, pressing his index finger over his lips. Shushing you.

“Y/N. We need to talk.”

It’s your dad.

Simon slowly draws his hand away from your mouth. Making sure you’ll be quiet. But he doesn’t stop his thrusts.

“Okay- I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Mike is here.”

Simon grits his teeth, shaking his head. “I said I’ll be down in a minute.”

Your dad sighs at the other end of the door. His footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

“Focus on me. M’gonna make you feel good baby.” He breathes.

He adjusts himself to be angled just right. Holding you still as he starts to rock himself into that one spot. Your mouth falls open the first time he brushes up against it. That spongy spot that’s so sensitive. “Cover your mouth darling. S’alright. Just relax.” He’s whispering. His voice so low you can barely hear it. You clamp your own hand on your mouth as he holds your hips steady, rocking into you. You’re barely keeping it together and that’s what he wants. He wants you to fall apart. He wants you on him. Clamping down around him. He wants to draw you in closer. You’re his and he wants to show you that. He holds you steady, keeping the same pace. He wants to be more rough but knows you aren’t quite ready for that. He moves your hand away from your mouth to kiss you. His lips move against yours sloppily and you notice his thrusts are a little sloppy as well. He’s getting close, but so are you. The unfamiliar feelings of a knot builds in your lower belly.

His teeth latch onto your bottom lip. Pulling it between his teeth and sucking at it. Your whines egg him on. Pulling him into you. He’s addicted.

“Simon… I’m really close.” You whine. Your voice is low and he knows nobody can hear you. Thank god, they don’t deserve to hear such angelic noises. You’re good. You’re the perfect amount of good Simon needs in his dark life. You make him better. His cock throbs hard inside of you. He grits his teeth. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. I can take it.” You breathe, looking up at him. He laughs. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into baby.”

“I think I do.”

Simon lifts you up, laying you down on the floor, if they’re downstairs, they’ll hear the bed creaking. He pushes your legs up, and starts his bruising pace. Fucking into you like it’ll be the last time. Your eyes widen, but he clamps a hand over your mouth. “You wanted this. You can take it.” He growls. Your eyes roll back and you fall apart. Throbbing around him as you reach your high. You’re clamping down around him tightly and he can barely keep himself together. Of all of the people you thought you might lost your virginity to, Ghost was never one of them.

He takes one last hard thrust, jawline clenching up as he grits his teeth. His eyes screw shut and you realize that’s he’s just finished inside of you. Your eyes widen as you feel his warmth filling you.

He relaxes himself into you.

“Fuck- m’sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking I just couldn’t stop myself.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You look up at him. You’re mesmerized by him.

He laughs, letting his head hang. “You can’t look at me like that. I won’t let you walk away.” He laughs.

You let your head rest against the floor. “You have to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t let you go down there alone. Not with that prick down there.” Simon growls. Sliding out of you. You gasp out as he does.

You redress yourselves, Simon letting you borrow one of his hoodies. A way to assert dominance, but you didn’t need to know that.

You make your way downstairs and he follows close behind. “What’s going on?” You ask.

“Mike wanted to apologize.”

Simon grips your hand in his. Pulling you closer. “What?”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did and I’m sorry Y/N.” You swallow hard. Your mum and dad look guilty. “We have to apologize too. For not believing you.” Your dad speaks up. “I don’t forgive you. Not any of you.” You breathe. “We’re heading out first thing in the morning and I won’t be back until I’m ready to.”

You pull Simon along, out the front door.

“How about I show you around? Where I grew up.” He smiles. “Course.” He smiles. Following you down the drive of your parents’ house. “You’ll have to show me where you grew up sometime.” You smile. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to darling.” He laughs. “You’re a strong girl you know that?” He opens up the car door for you. “I don’t know.”

“M’serious. You’re brave and strong. They don’t deserve a girl like you.”

You smile.

“So what does that tell you?” You ask. He moves closer. “I don’t know.” His lips ghost over yours.

“Don’t fuck it up, Riley.”