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earlysunsetsoverambrose · 3 years

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Fool For You (1/4)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Description: You are head over heels in love with the youngest Sinclair, but he could not be more oblivious to your feelings.

A/N: Thanks to @mynameisliterallycash for the request! I was hitting a wall with writing, but this helped get the gears turning again! I hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoy!

The sun streaming through your window roused you from a steady slumber. You groaned, stretching out your limbs until you finally collapsed back onto the mattress with a sigh. The sleep from your eyes cleared as you thought of the dream you had last night. Your heart raced remembering the way he took you in his arms and finally said he loved you too. You were so happy you could cry and now you could almost cry at realizing it was just another dream. He seemed to be all that occupied your thoughts: Lester Sinclair.

Lester was all you had energy for these days. If you weren’t with him, you were thinking about when you’d see him again. Even your dream world revolved around him as he’d made an appearance almost every night lately. You were like a damn schoolgirl; and it was as exhilarating as it was humiliating. You thought you were past the days of pining over boys, but here you were.

Slowly, you’d fallen head-over-heels for the man. His self-effacing humor, kind heart, and generous nature won you over so effortlessly. You didn’t even realize where you were headed until your little crush became an intense, desperate love for you closest friend. It practically consumed you.

It wouldn’t be so bad if Lester would just put you out of your misery. Falling in love with him was incredibly easy, but telling him was the biggest pain in your ass since Bo Sinclair.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. You tried hundreds of different ways – of varying levels of subtlety – to tell him how you feel. Extra physical affection? Nothing. Complimenting him on literally everything? Nothing. Baking treats specifically for him? Nothing. Asking him if he’d ever been in love before? Not a damn thing. You were running out of ways to get your point across.

Even if he didn’t notice the romantic intentions, he was always so receptive and enthusiastic, you couldn’t be upset for too long. Being a touch-oriented person by nature, he welcomed the extra hugs, squeezing you to your heart’s content. Your compliments always made him blush and he’d pay you back with as much flattery and twice the charm. After every treat you baked, he carved you thoughtful trinkets from wood and bone. And when you asked him about being in love, he lit up as he rambled on about a dog he met that confirmed for him the existence of true love. God, he was a goofball. You loved him so much.

At this point, you were vacillating between whether you should tell him at all, since everything you tried seemed to go over his head. You weren’t even sure he liked you back. Sometimes, you thought he might, but he was so nice to everyone, it was hard to tell. Maybe he really didn’t notice, or he did and he was trying not to hurt your feelings. Both were possibilities, but you sincerely hoped it was the former. But how could he not get it? Maybe you were better off as friends. It’d probably be easier.

You looked at the clock, realizing you would have to put your pity party on hold. Though the smallest part of you wanted to stay in bed and return to your dreamland where you knew Lester loved you back, you’d much rather spend all the time you could with him in the real world. You had plans to go to town with Lester to pick up more dog food. When he asked you if you wanted to tag along for his day off, you jumped at the chance to go with him. Anything for a few more hours together.

Once you got cleaned up and dressed, you jogged down the stairs and straight to the front door. You took a seat on the bottom step of the porch to wait for Lester to come pick you up. A shiver ran through your body, adjusting to the chilly breeze. You looked up at the sky to find it overcast, matching your mood. You wondered if it would rain.

You heard the door open and shut, followed by heavy steps down the stairs. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Waitin’ for Lester to pick you up for your date?” Bo prodded, taking a sip from his coffee mug.

“It’s not a date.” You sighed, too caught up in your thoughts to fight with Bo.

“But you want it to be, don’t you?” He snorted, “You’ve had it bad for him for how long now?”

“Can’t you just go on to work without harassing me? Be nice for once and go away.” you asked, finally looking up at him to meet his classic smirk.

“Look, kid, if you wanna get anywhere with Lester, you’re gonna have to spell it out for him.” Bo advised, “God love him, but there’s nothin’ in his head. Plus, he’s dumb as a sack of hammers when it comes to women and sex.”

“Stop it.” You snapped, “Lester’s not stupid. And I don’t remember asking for your advice.”

“Well, you need it.” Bo interjected, “But if you wanna keep pussyfooting around and die alone, that’s your God given right.”

“Truly inspiring.” You said sarcastically, “You should become a life coach.”

“Thought about it, pay was shit though.” Bo quipped without missing a beat. He gave you a soft kick on the leg as his best attempt at comfort, before finally granting your wish for him to leave. He hopped in his truck and took off down the hill.

You thought about what Bo told you. Maybe you should just come out with it already. You tried everything short of saying what you actually meant. You knew that being open and direct was the best way forward, but it would undoubtedly change things between you and Lester – for better or worse. You just dreaded the thought that after you finally told him everything, he simply wouldn’t feel the same. The idea of rejection, especially coming from him, was utterly terrifying. You didn’t think you could handle it if he were to start icing you out. You didn’t want to lose any part of him. Maybe you should have stayed in bed after all.

“Hello, Y/N? Anybody alive in there?”

You gasped as your heart jolted and you snapped to attention. You looked up to see Lester chuckling at your expense. Even as your heartrate slowed, you felt it stutter at his laughter.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that, Les!” you said with a playful shove, feigning annoyance –your smile betraying you.

“I didn’t mean to spook ya! But I’ve been callin’ your name for two minutes.” Lester told you, “Ya sure were thinkin’ hard ‘bout whatever it was. Somethin’ on your mind?”

“Sorry, I think I’m still waking up.” You excused, adding a fake yawn to really sell it. Lester smiles wide at you, suspecting nothing.

“Well, wake on up then, we got places to be!” Lester said as he offered his hand to pull you up from the stairs. You happily took it and he hoisted you up with ease. Your eyes darted where your hands met as his touch sent sparks through your arm and into your chest. Now, you were just plain staring. He innocently tilted his head, “Ya sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you said quickly, releasing his hand. “Come on, I’ll race you to the truck! Last one there has to do all the heavy lifting!”

Lester broke into a sprint without a warning. You wondered how he always seemed to have so much energy at all hours of the day as you struggled to catch up with him.

He made it to the truck first by a long shot. He just smiled when you finally made it, not bothering to gloat. Both of you couldn’t help but laugh as you fought to catch your breath.

“Guess, I win.” Lester said simply

“I’m getting too old for this.” you said as you leaned against the truck for support.

“Oh, you’re never too old for a little fun.” Lester replied clapping you on the back, “’Sides, you’re awake now, ain’t ya?”

“Won’t be for long, if I black out from exhaustion.” You fired back dramatically, “You’re going to have to go on without me.”

“Hey, c’mon now, ya gotta go with me to carry all that dog food. Ya ain’t gettin’ outta this one, drama queen.” Lester played along.

“Vision going dark…legs too weak! Goodbye, cruel world!” you cried out with an exaggerated hand over your face. You made a show of stumbling around like you were about to faint, imitating all the terrible soap operas you caught on television. You wrapped your arms around Lester and made your legs limp, forcing him to support you as he laughed at your antics, “Remember me as I was: unwilling to carry everything by myself.”

“Alright, fine!” Lester agreed as he adjusted you in his grasp so he could look back at you. Your act faltered as you looked up into his warm whiskey stare, savoring the feeling of his arms around you, sturdy and gentle. “I s’pose I’ll help ya out a little. Guess it’s only fair since ya let me win and all.”

“Why, yes, of course, that is exactly what happened. Me, the true winner. I let you win, correct. That was the master plan.” You said, every word dripping with sarcasm. You stood back up, separating yourself from his embrace despite wanting nothing more than to stay that way forever.

“Yes ma’am! Ya coulda left me in the dust, alright, but ya didn’t. Thanks for takin’ it easy on me.” Lester said with a wink and a nudge as he made his way to the driver side of the truck. There he goes again with that unrelenting kindheartedness, “Well, hop in then! We’re burnin’ daylight!”

You opened the passenger door and got in next to Lester. You couldn’t help but look at him from the corner of your eye as he got settled and started the engine. He started driving down the road. You wondered how it was possible no one else had fallen in love with him the way you had so easily. Maybe many already did and they also failed to tell him.

You turned to look at him straight on, while his eyes were on the road. You could feel a fond smile pulling at your cheeks as you gazed at him. He had such an ease about him, you thought he looked so handsome without even trying.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” Lester asked, cocking an eyebrow as he looked back at you, “What are ya lookin’ at me like that for?”

“Huh?” you said cluelessly. You had been caught staring again.

“Did I leave the house with a milk moustache or somethin’?” he asked, looking in the rearview mirror to check himself, “Do I got a snot bubble?”

“No, you’re good.” You said, chuckling as you propped your head against your hand by the window. You kept looking at him, practically feeling the hearts flying out of your eyes.

“Whew, had me worried there for a second.”

“Sorry, about that.” You said with a smile, facing front once more.

“Don’t be, I get it, what with my devilish good looks and all.” Lester joked with a hearty laugh, sitting back without another thought. You looked back at him, holding back a sigh of disbelief. He didn’t know the half of it.

You leaned over to turn on the radio hoping some music would ease the tension you were feeling, even though you were sure Lester hadn’t noticed. He was delightfully oblivious to your plight. You heard the beginning of a steady, soft guitar. You immediately recognize the song, internally cursing the irony of it all.

I find it very, very easy to be true I find myself alone when each day is through Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you Because you're mine, I walk the line

Even Johnny Cash could see right through you. As much as you wanted to be irritated with fate, every line perfectly summed up your feelings for Lester. You glanced at him, thinking about how there was no one else in the world who was as right for you. He was just like the song itself; soft and stable.

“You know, I really love this song.” You said hopefully, “Romantic, don’t you think?”

“Sure is,” Lester agreed, with an excited smile and glance in your direction, “But hell if Folsom Prison Blues ain’t one of the best damn songs ever written. That’s my favorite!”

“Oh…that one’s definitely great too.” You said with a small drop of your shoulders. You should have known better than to think that would go anywhere. You straighten up again, giving it another shot, “I Walk the Line just makes me wish I could find the Johnny to my June.”

“Aw, don’t worry about that, none. Won’t be too long ‘fore that happens. I’m surprised none of them bigshot city boys ain’t snatched ya up yet. Guess most of ‘em are just plain stupid. Hell, they gotta be if they ain’t fallin’ over themselves to get a ring on ya.” Lester hyped you up, looking at you, genuine as ever.

“I don’t think I want anyone like that.” You said, “Guys like that really aren’t my type.”

“Well, whoever ya do end up with is gonna be one lucky son of a gun, I’ll tell ya that much.” Lester declared with the utmost certainty.

“I think I’d want him to be like you.” You told him pointedly, scooting closer. Lester gaped, a huge grin still shining through the skepticism.

“Me? Shoot, ya gotta be kiddin’. No way! Ya don’t wanna shack up with a fella like me!” Lester denied with a wave of his hand, clearly amused but not entertaining the notion. He was sure you must be joking.

"Why not?” You asked, “You’re funny, helpful, incredibly reliable, thoughtful, patient, kind. You’re the real deal! Plus, you know everything about everything there is to know about animals. I’m always learning something when I’m with you.”

“Shucks, you’re gonna make me blush,” Lester chuckled, sending you a humble smile as he rubbed his neck, “I don’t know everythin’, but you’re real sweet for sayin’ so. ‘Sides, I don’t think there’re too many ladies that wanna hear me rattlin’ on ‘bout critters and whatnot.”

“Don’t be so sure.” You told him, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Well, if ya happen to run into anybody ya think won’t mind if I set the mood with a little roadkill, ya send ‘em my way, alright!” Lester told you, slapping his knee. After he finished laughing at himself, he piped up, “You know who I’d marry if I could?”

“Who?” you asked, your heart stopping in its tracks.

“Dolly Parton! Whew that woman sure is somethin’!” Lester told you with a dreamy shake of his head.

You let out a soft sigh as you scooted back to your side; hiding your disappointment by looking out the window. Suddenly, Ring of Fire seemed more appropriate since loving Lester was starting to burn like hell. Even so, you were still charmed by his unrestrained joy as he started whistling along with the radio, totally oblivious to the way your fond smile overtook your features.

#lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #Female reader #House of Wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #My writing #request #tw: cursing #fool for you

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howdoyousleep3 · 4 years

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Kinktober, 10/21: Phone Sex

Jesus Christ it is done. Take it. I can’t look at it anymore. I had many people help me with this one. All my love to @musette22, @rainbowsandcoconut, and Max (who I won’t tag for fear of him getting even the teensiest bit horny when he should be resting up instead) for hype and characterization and @maddiewritesstucky for the constant hype.

I am nervous. This is different. I’ve never done this. I chose to do only dialogue because, as @sheetsforwhichimmade so lovingly pointed out — “You don’t make life easy for yourself do you?” 🙃😅 Hope you love. 💕

Pairing: Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan Tags: Phone Sex, Established Relationship, Long Distance Relationship, Dirty Talk, Light Feminization, Mutual Masturbation

“Hello?”

“Hey… hi.”

“Hi sweetheart, what’re you… what time is it there? You okay?”

“Mhmm fine yeah. S’about 11:30 at night.”

“You’re okay?”

“Chris, yeah m’fine, I’m… m’more than fine.”

“Are you now? Why’s that?”

“Don’t… nothin’, it’s nothin’, just… just maybe have been… drinkin’…”

“Ohh, s’that it?”

“Mhmm…”

“You think I don’t know when you’ve been drinking? You think I don’t know when my baby’s been drinkin’?”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. You don’t know a damn thing, Evans.”

“Ohh, I think I do, baby. Listen to that giggle! You can’t even stop it.”

“Quit! I’m… m’not easy, I’m—”

“Can read you like a book, what’s it been, huh? Ninety seconds? Ninety seconds and I know for a fact you’re drinkin’ red wine?”

“Chris, how…! No, no. I will not give you the satisfaction. S’my choice, my drink. Stop laughing!”

“Don’t… don’t you pout on me, don’t go sad, sweetheart. Would never try and stop you, of course it’s your choice. I know you, is all. Your voice goin’ all low and sweet, slow and quiet.”

“Mmm…”

“That’s your red wine voice. What are you, about a bottle deep?”

“… I’m hanging up.”

“No, Seb! Baby, don’t be mean. Should be flattered I know you so well.”

“Hmm, a blessing and a curse.”

“Not sure you have many examples of that there curse but it’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“Seb, honey—you know what happens when you drink red wine…”

“Mmm, I don’t think I do know. Why don’t you tell me, baby?”

“Look at you… okay. I’ll play. Your voice is all hot, it’s right before bed, you’re callin’ me, you’ve been drinking red wine. I know it’s not tequila because, while one of your favorites, it does not get you calm; you turn into a loud happy little thing when you’ve got tequila in your system.”

“When’d you turn into some sort’a Sherlock Holmes?”

“Why’d you call me, Sebastian?”

“I… missed… I missed you is all. Can’t a guy call his boyfriend when he’s missin’ him?”

“A’course you can, baby. You’re doin’ more than missing me though, aren’t you?”

“I…”

“Hmm…?”

“You…! There have been so many fucking times you’ve called me while drunk on Heineken wanting me to—”

“Seb, honey… baby, shh. That feistiness is the red wine talkin’. You can call me whenever you want for… whatever you need. I just wanna hear you say it, c’mon. We both know what this is, why you’re callin’.”

“Don’t… I don’t have a reason.”

“No? You don’t get more than a little hot and bothered when you drink red wine? A bit needy?”

“Chris…”

“C’mon, Seb— you callin’ me ‘cause you’re hard?”

“I’m… ngh maybe…”

“Yeah? C’mon, Sebastian. Tell me.”

“Baby don’t… god I hate how that voice makes me just… do things.”

“What voice?”

“Right, like you don’t know. I may have a red wine voice but you… you gotta horny voice, a hot voice.”

“Do I now? S’it helpin’ you? Is it what you want?”

“S’always what I want…”

“Atta boy, there you go. Let’s try again— why’d you call me, Sebastian?”

“M’hard and I… I miss you.”

“God, love when you call me when you get like this. Miss you too, sweetheart. You in bed?”

“Mmm, mhmm yeah. S’a bit empty. Wish you were here to take up space and hog the blanket.”

“I’d give anything to come be your blanket hog. You naked?”

“God… yeah yeah’m… m’naked.”

“S’my favorite version’a you. So fuckin’ pretty, should never wear clothes.”

“Ngh, Chris…”

“Ohh already, baby? You already there?”

“No, not close, not—“

“No, Seb— not close to coming. You know what else happens when you drink red wine? Know you know…”

“I… I can’t really think right now, Chris. I’m busy doing—“

“You get sweet. You love bein’ pretty and sweet for me when you are this far gone, ain’t that right, kitten?”

“Fucking hell.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“A’course you’re right, I… I don’know why I get this way, but I do. Maybe it’s you.”

“There’s no need to pout, sugar. Love you no matter what version’a you I get. It’s just how you are when you get to sippin’ on wine—you get needier.”

“Mhmm, I do. I miss you.”

“Miss you too, baby. Know you’d be all up in my neck right now, can practically feel your tongue on my ear. Fuck, can’t wait to get my hands on you. Tell me what you’re doin’, what’dya look like?”

“Y’know what I look like…”

“Tell me anyway, pretty.”

“Oh I’m… m’on my back, flat. Got my hand on my chest, I’m—”

“You givin’ yourself those soft touches? Yeah?”

“You’re proud’a yourself for knowin’ that, can hear your smile. Makes me even harder…”

“Jesus… c’mon don’t distract me, I know what I want and that’s you to tell me what you’re doin’.”

“I’m… m’so hard.”

“Don’t need to whisper it, honey—I know. You been touchin’ yourself?”

“No, I… m’waiting.”

“Oh, Sebastian. What a good boy…”

“Chris, tell me… tell me what to do, please I’m—”

“Oh, sugar never have to beg. Sound sweet as fuck doin’ it but don’t have to; y’know I’ll give you anything you want. Wet your finger, get that thumb and another one in your mouth, don’t—Baby, don’t you get carried away. Don’t get distracted the second somethin’ gets in your mouth.”

“But I—”

“Put those fingers on your nipple, give it a good swirl, yeah. When you pinch, pinch lightly, light. Just—there it is, just like that. Know that noise. How’s that feel?”

“More… want more.”

“So greedy. Bet you’re leakin’, bet you’re so wet. That pretty dick all wet?”

“God… could listen to you… yeah yeah it’s wet I’m… m’so wet.”

“Yeah you are, know you are. Touchin’ those pretty nipples makes you drip, sweetheart. Listen to you…”

“Want… are you hard?”

“Am I hard? Sebastian, of course I am, are you fuckin’ kidding me? You call me all needy and touchin’ yourself and you don’t think I’m gonna get hard? Baby, I’m achin’.”

“Wan’it.”

“Mmm, want what? Huh?”

“Chris want… fuck, want you, want your… your cock.”

“Goddamnit… fuck, you ready to put a hand on yourself? S’that what you need?”

“Please… yeah, please please I—”

“Go on, baby go on. Get yourself all wet, spread it around. God, listen to you. Feel good?”

“God mhmm, yeah it… it does it… so fuckin’ good. Tell me what you look like, what… what your hand looks like on yourself.”

“Shit, how’d you know?”

“You may know my red wine voice, but I know your fist-fucking voice.”

“God, I love you.”

“Mmm… love you. Tell me, please...”

“Fuck, m’so hard, Seb. On the couch, a hand on myself, loose. I’m thinkin’ about how pretty you’d look here between my legs, would fit real well.”

“Ohh… that’s exactly where I wanna be right now. Wouldn’t even ask you to stop, would just wanna get my mouth on your balls, wanna make it sloppy.”

“Jesus, I love it when you drink red wine. What else you want? What else you wanna do while you’re down there?”

“I just… fuck, Chris I just miss you in my mouth. I miss how… how big you feel on my tongue, how you fill my throat right up. Wanna be good for you, wanna choke on it.”

“God, Sebastian you’re so good, so fuckin’ good. Nothin’ better than your mouth on me, ngh.”

“I… I can think of something else that may be… be better…”

“Oh my, listen to that voice, the way you couldn’t even say it without moanin’. I think I might… s’it what I think it is?”

“Mmm, maybe…”

“Don’t tease me, baby. Don’t be coy.”

“Want…want your mouth on me.”

“Fuck, you’re hungry for that aren’t you? Yeah? Jerk yourself off a bit faster, Seb, a bit more. There you go, sweetheart. Tell me more about my mouth on you. Are you…?”

“Mhmm, yeah yeah. Just miss your fuckin’ mouth, ngh. Miss how… miss how you eat me out, y’so good at it, Chris. Don’t even fucking care, don’t hold back, eat my pu—oh.”

“Mmph, Sebastian. You feelin’…fuck, you feelin’ extra sweet?”

“Chris…”

“C’mon. M’hard god, baby I’m so hard for you. You wanna hear it? You wanna hear me, wanna hear my hand on my cock?”

“Oh fuck… don’t…! God, you just spit in your hand, didn’t you? Fuck.”

“Without your mouth I gotta make do. Listen, Sebastian—listen.”

“Jesus…!”

“S’wet, ain’t it? So hard, my hand is so tight, so good. Sounds like…”

“Oh god yeah, say it.”

“Sounds like your pussy.”

“Oh… oh please, oh—!”

“Fuck yeah, y’love it don’t you, princess?”

“Oh Chris, don’t… don’t do that. Don’t…ngh, ngh. Can I… I want tighter.”

“Yeah, sweetheart give yourself what you want. You’re close, I can hear it. You don’t want this often; let yourself enjoy it, come on.”

“Oh, m’close. I’m close, baby please…”

“God, wish it was that pussy eatin’ me right up instead’a my fist. D’have to spend such a… such a good amount’a time openin’ that pussy up to take me, wouldn’t I, sugar?”

“Fuck yeah you would, such a fat fuckin’ cock. God, I wan’it, Chris I miss it. Your mouth on my… on my pussy. Your fingers. You know how I like it; make it hurt a bit. Wanna feel you for days.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m close. M’close, Seb. You close? Talkin’ about your pussy is gonna get me there, talkin’ about taking just… takin’ hours gettin’ you ready is gonna make me come.”

“Yeah yeah I’m… m’close. Chris…”

“Yeah, you gonna come thinkin’ about how that pussy feels when it’s bein’ stuffed? When it’s bein’ fucked? God…”

“Know that voice. Tug on your balls, give… give ‘em a good squeeze—”

“Fuck, Seb oh—”

“I’m gonna come, make me come, Chris please…!”

“Come, baby come on, give it to me. Come with me oh, Seb baby m’comin’, fuck…!”

“Oh…! Oh god, oh…!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sebastian goddamnit nothin’… nothin’ better than hearin’ you come, fuck.”

“Chris… oh, Chris…”

“Yeah, baby yeah, get it all, make it count, long strokes.”

“Fuck, yeah yeah, so good, oh.”

“S’my boy, listen to that, oh. So fuckin’ hot.”

“S’good, so good, ngh love it, oh…”

“Mmm yeah, honey love it. God, m’so… god I made such a mess, sweetheart, oh.”

“Love…mmm love when you get the giggles after an orgasm, just… you’re just the best, god I love you.”

“Love you more. God, I needed that little afternoon delight. How’d you know?”

“Red wine brain knows everything.”

“Hmm, that voice, know that voice too. You’re about to crash. Y’get so sleepy after you come.”

“S’the red wine. Maybe. Hmph. M’messy now too.”

“Mmm, you should send me a picture’a that.”

”Christopher, it hasn’t even been five minutes after we’ve come and you wanna go again?”

“Not… not again! Just… it’s been a while, I don’t know. Gimme a little extra for later.”

“Anything for you.”

“Don’t be dramatic, don’t waste what energy you have left. You should head to bed soon. You gonna go clean off?”

“Mhmm. When do I get to see you next? Next week?”

“Yeah... yeah next Thursday, sweetheart. God, can’t wait to see you. Wish I could just stay the whole time you’re there.”

“Would love that. Love you.”

“I love you too, Seb. Wake up. Go get cleaned off. But not before you take a picture of your mess.”

“A teenager is what you are.”

“You love it. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Hope you sleep well, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“M’kay, goodnight. Bye.”

“Bye.”

#jbbkinktober2020 #evanstan #chris evans and sebastian stan #fanfiction #rpf #fanfic #evanstan fanfic #I know I’ve never done this but it probably won’t become a thing lol #just wanted to try my hand at this #lolll

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vanchlo · 3 years

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The Partner / Chapter Four, “Telling”

Word Count: 11.6k words / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: Combat by Hazel English (click to listen)

“Now is now. Are you going to be here or not?”

- Ram Dass

The trill of the ringtone brought my eyes open, but as soon as I do and the sun blinds me, I wish that I hadn’t. He was always the one to close the blinds after I’d opened them, something I’d forgotten to do already.

“Hello?” I say, blindly answering the phone, retreating to under the covers.

“Hi, bug. I hope ‘m not interruptin’ anythin’ important at work, but ‘m on me lunch and wanted t’ call. I miss my fiance.”

A smile is already brewing on my lips, beginning the first second I heard Harry’s voice. It had only been hours since I’d heard it last, but somehow, it was always too long.

“Oh, hi,” I reply, clearing my throat, knowing my sleep-ridden voice gives it away already. “Um, I’m actually at home.”

“Oh, ya are? ‘s ev’rythin’ okay with you, Becks? God, yer not sick, are you? Of all times fer that t’ happen and ‘s when ‘m gone on a case,” his voice is heavy, laden with displaced guilt that makes my insides roil. Luckily, it’s not in the same way they’ve been doing lately.

“Yeah. I woke up at 5 this morning and got sick.”

“God, ‘m so sorry, bug, that ‘m not there t’ take care o’ you. Sounds like I woke you from a nap, ‘m-,” I cut him off before the unnecessary grief can weigh either of us down all the more.

“It’s okay, Harry. I probably just ate something that was off, leftovers that weren’t good anymore. I feel fine now.”

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear yer feelin’ better already. ‘ll be home on Thursday, ‘m jus’ sorry ‘s not any sooner.”

The first hints of a laugh fall from my lips, “Stop apologizing. It’s fine, I’m fine. I can manage a little throw up, Harry, you don’t need to say that. Believe me, I’m just glad you’re not here to see it.”

“You stop it, li’l one. We’re gettin’ married, Becks, fer better or fer worse, rememba?”

“Of course, but I’m okay. I only threw up this morning and . . “

He doesn’t give me the chance to finish, “Threw up mo’ than once? Becks honey, yer sure yer okay?”

“Yes, Harry, I’m okay,” it comes out accompanied by a laugh, making me miss his. “I’ll manage on my own for the next two days until you’re back. Thanks though, it’s cute how you worry.”

“‘s what a husband does, love, what any person does fer tha person they love.”

“I miss you,” it’s a soft murmur, holding more words than I’d know how to say. “I know we’ve done this once or twice before, you having to travel for a case, but it’s hard.”

“I know, babe, it ‘s fer me too, makes me miss you so much,” the honey is there and so is the molasses, more decadent than ever. A little too much for me to handle, making me press that button. “Hey, what’re you doin’?”

It’s only a few moments until I’m squinting through the afternoon sunshine, feeling my sullen lips turn up into my cheeks.

“Hey, there’s my buggie.”

Perhaps, his smile couldn’t be bigger when I see it fill the screen of my phone. Harry’s one-hundred watt smile shines back at me, only growing as the seconds tick along. He’d started calling me that recently, a new spin on an old nickname. I think it was coming to be my favourite, although nothing could ever top ‘Becks.’

“Hi, babe. Don’t you look cute. What in the world are you doing?” my head falls back against the pillow as I move to lie on my side.

“‘m in me car, duh. Told you I was on me lunch. I jus’ had it, went t’ a restaurant here. Had their turkey BLT and it was incredible,” he says it as if I should know this, but he does it with a curl to his lips. One that hasn’t left yet. “I reckon you look cuter tho’, babe.”

“Thanks, but I think you need your eyes checked.”

Shaking his head, Harry doesn’t say anything. He props his elbow on the door of his Rover, sitting his chin in his hand. Today, he couldn’t look more handsome, and I’m sure that I couldn’t miss him more. I wanted to run my hands along the silky smooth lapels of his muted violet blazer, a new one.

I know it was the first thing I saw him wear, suits, but he still dazzled me when he wore a new one. Sometimes, after a long day or a few hours that felt like a day, and I saw him around the firm, it felt like the first time. The color brought out the warm green of his eyes, ones that sparkle while he cards a hand covered with rings through his curls. I never could figure out why he touched them so much, or messed with them, besides assigning it to nerves.

“How’d your morning go in court?”

The words come out in a huff, one that seizes his body with evident exhaustion, “Eh, alright. Not sure yet where ‘s headed, too early t’ tell, but ‘ll jus’ be glad t’ be done soon. This one’s been a real doozy.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Same here, bug. ‘ve been sleepin’ so bad here, tha bed’s too firm at tha hotel and ‘m never tha right temp. ‘m either too cold or too hot, ‘cos I don’t have me li’l heater ‘round,” he hummed with a tilt to his head, a seemingly permanent one to his lips. “I can’t wait t’ come home, then ev’rythin’ will be better.”

I missed him, more than I’d let myself tell him, or maybe even myself, too. The very words repeated in my head that night when my dinner came back up, shouting it in my skull the next morning when I hung over the toilet. Spent with tears, I ached with a longing for Harry. It lessened after my stomach had recovered, but lying in an empty bed or staring down the firm’s hallway at his closed door, it felt worse than all of the other times I had missed him. At my worst, I wanted him, and nothing else. It felt silly to miss him so much when he was only gone trying a case for four days, but I didn’t sleep well either, waking up to remnants of his smell that woke me with lies. Little did I know how much I could ever miss a person, let alone my favorite one.

Returning to work hadn’t been as difficult as I feared it would be, but at times, it was worse. Rose and I were just finishing up a case before I was set to work with Harry again after he finished his upcoming one, something I was hardly able to wait to do. Luckily, I was still able to be there with Rose to help present the case in court, seeing as I only called in the one day. I couldn’t really otherwise, and the long sessions in court were catching up with me. I hadn’t been able to keep much food down, and even when I did, I was so tired from the poor sleep I was getting. Yesterday and the day before, I had snuck in a nap on my sofa, and that’s what was next on my agenda. I could hardly wait.

Ripping open the door to my office, something causes me to stop in my footsteps. Afterwards, I wouldn’t be able to put my finger on it, if somebody had asked. It was just that feeling again, and maybe not being able to remember if the light was on even though I’d turned it off. Or, maybe the other way around. Regardless, my eyes began a scan of the room, but they didn’t get very far.

“Hi, my buggie girl.”

“Harry,” it’s the only syllable I can get out, astonishment stealing all of the others from my lips. That and my forgetting speaking altogether when I dash across the room, giving him enough time to stand up before I collide with him.

The sound of an exhale accompanies the surprise in his voice, “Oh, hi, baby. Did I surprise ya?”

His giggle adds to the concoction of him that pours the word ‘calm’ over me, starting with his safe arms around me. His smell. The sound of his wheezy laugh against my head.

“Yeah, you’re good at that.”

“Reckon I am. I got done early and found an earlier flight,” he remarks, humorous pride in his deep drawl. Molasses found althroughout. “How’re you doin’ t’day, love? ‘m sorry we didn’t get t’ talk on tha phone this mornin,’ bloody phone tag ‘s t’ blame. I hope yer hearin’ t’day went well.”

“It’s okay. I’m just so glad you’re here now,” honesty weighs heavy in my words, and in my eyes when I meet his greens. A color I didn’t know that I could miss, but I did, all those years ago. Those dimples too that fall into his cheeks before my eyes.

“Couldn’t be happier t’ be home . . even if I lost me case, but ya win some and you lose some,” Harry hums, thumbing at the divot in my own cheek. “Missed you so much.”

I feel like I can finally take a breath again when he hugs me against his front, sponging kisses along the top of my head. I felt like me again with him home, welcoming him with kisses and later, a night between the sheets.

Yet, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep lying to myself about that, knowing that my feeling of mine told me otherwise.

The day after he came home was no different, but little did I know how it would undoubtedly pass any expectations I could ever have. Any possibilities whatsoever.

I woke with a start, and a rock in my stomach, just like yesterday, and all of the times before. I knew what was going to happen before I even moved, that the second I did it would be a race to the bathroom. Thankfully, I hadn’t missed and hit the floor yet, but I felt like I was going to each and every time. It was just a matter of when.

He wasn’t up yet, and I wished for the past when I could turn over and cuddle with him to wake up, not by throwing up. But, I was thankful that he wasn’t awake because he thought I didn’t see it, but I did. I saw the way his face fell when I told him that I’d gotten sick again, despite his lawyer expertise concerning those blessed features of his.

This time, I made it too, wretching into the toilet. I thanked God, if there was one, that my side of the bed was closer to the bathroom. I also thanked him that Harry didn’t wake up and walk in until after I was done, or I hoped so.

“Oh, no. Not again, bubs,” he sighs in his raspy drawl thick with leftover sleep. I’m void of a response, head in my arm propped over the toilet bowl.

The swirl of soiled water disappears before me, having flushed it the second I heard his footsteps. We’d been through heaven and hell together, and yet there were still some things that were embarrassing. Throwing up was one of them. The first signs of relief begin to wash over me like cold water on a scorching day from a wet rag he swipes over my cheek.

“I dunno, Becks, this ‘sn’t seemin’ t’ let up. ‘s been a few days now, maybe you should go t’ tha doctor, love.”

“It’s okay, Harry. What could they do anyway for a stomach bug?” my sigh comes, the words muffled against my arm when I lay my head down, grimacing at the smell that’s stained the inside of my mouth. I feel like taking the rag I hold against my head and scrubbing my tongue until I can’t taste it anymore. It seemed to always be there off to the side like a threatening storm, the last couple of days since this had started.

“I dunno, ya don’t know ‘til ya try,” he comments, feet making soft noises on the floor. I don’t hear the run of the tap like I did a moment ago, instead the unscrewing and screwing of something before the sloshing of liquid. “I jus’ dunno what it could be, a stomach bug doesn’t last this long, does it?”

A mumbled reply lacking answers graces my lips after he places a cup in my hand. Lifting my aching head, I find purple mouthwash sitting in the tiny cup we use for brushing our teeth.

“Have you ever had somethin’ like this befo’, bug?”

Taking my time swishing the minty liquid around in my mouth, I almost sigh at the welcomed taste, willing the previous one away. After shaking my head at him, I nearly choke gargling on the peppermint tasting liquid when I hear his next comment.

“Let’s jus’ hope yer not pregnant, dunno how you would be tho,’” Harry titters, humor threaded throughout his tired words. “Well, we certainly do know how babies are made, we sure do loads o’ it-.”

“Stop, Harry, it’s not funny,” I don’t intend for it to come out in a near retort, but I can’t stop myself.

“Why not? It wouldn’t be bad if ya were, we’ve always wanted babies.”

My response comes, short and to the point, “You know why. We’re getting married in August, Harry.”

“Things can be moved ‘round, Becks, a baby can’t.”

“Stop talking about this like I’m pregnant, because I’m not,” I say, feeling my head fill with another wave of dull pain when I get to my feet. His hand catches my elbow when I begin to sway, legs feeling like Jello.

“Didn’t say you were, bug, ‘m sure ‘s jus’ a stomach thing. They pass afta a few days, so you should be right as rain again soon,” Harry assures me, stepping to the side to face me. Despite his angering comment, a cooling sense of relief comes when his lips touch my clammy forehead. “Maybe you should stay home again, sleep it off.”

“I’m okay, I feel a little better now. My stomach goes hard, I throw up, and then it’s done. Like clockwork.”

“‘Kay, but if ‘s not gone in two days, I want you t’ go in and be seen . . ‘m gonna hop in tha shower if you wanna join me,” Harry rasps, cocking his head to the side as the corners of his lips lift, honey dripping from them. I always loved the way he looked in the mornings. The disheveled hair that sometimes stuck up in all directions, sunshine glazing over in his eyes, and how those lazy lips always held a smile for me. This time, it was dripping with mischief, a look that I knew all too well.

“Yeah, and we both know what that’s going to lead to, Harry. Not a lot of actual showering.”

That M word grows on those watermelon pink lips of his, ones I could just eat up. “Ya, we could practice makin’ a baby, if you like. Y’know, again.”

“Stop,” it’s the closest I’ve come to giggling this morning, or any affability I’ve harbored towards this topic. “But, no. I’m sorry, I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Fine, we’ll jus’ shower fer real this time, love. ‘ll even wash you up, since yer not feelin’ good. I bet it’d help t’ feel all clean aftawards.”

“Okay,” I sigh, relishing the satisfaction gracing his cheeks masked by new stubble the color of chocolate.

“I don’t like my baby bein’ all sick,” Harry hums with his lips against my temple, the smell of vanilla and sandalwood lulling my eyes closed. It felt as if there were few times when knots didn’t riddle my insides lately, but right now, in his arms, I was free.

It had been bothering me all day, ever since Harry’s comment. If I was telling myself the truth, it had been gnawing away at the insides of my brain for longer than that. There was so much inside of me telling me that his suspicion was right when all I wanted was for it to be wrong. If I was doing that truth thing again, of course, there was a remaining part of me that wanted it to be right, but it was miniscule at best. No more was said about it after that, but that fact in itself only made it harder to forget. Even if I had wanted to speak to him about it, he had been in partner meetings all day. I knew he was due for lunch here soon, and that’s what led me to run a quick errand before then, nabbing the car keys from his right drawer where he always left them.

I certainly didn’t think that this was how it would be happening, at Harry’s firm of all places. Our firm? Guilt seeped under my skin the second I had put my plan into action, well aware that he had no idea what I was doing. Tears had been close all day long, since the time those joking words had left his lips. Sure, the blame went to him on that, but I couldn’t have known what it would lead to, either. We both could deserve the blame for this entire thing.

The second it’s done, I find that I can’t get myself to follow through. The closest thing I’ve felt to relief all day comes when I see my watch reads one o’clock. It feels like every person I pass knows my secret, despite that being an impossibility and more. The only person who could have the smallest inkling is the person whose door I stop in front of, because I’m not sure how I can do this. Or, that I can. I’ve surprised myself by getting this far in my plan.

When the door opens for me, I can’t decide if I feel lucky that he made the next decision for me. “Hi, bug. How’s yer mornin’ been? ‘ve missed you, y’know. Oh, whatcha got there? Did ya get me lunch?” his words couldn’t be sweeter. Neither could his hand that brushes against my cheek, sliding down my arm next. Alarms blare inside of me, yelling at me to tell him while others repeat the opposite. I don’t know why, but doubt floods me within milliseconds. I know that he wouldn’t be upset, but then how come I worry that he would be? “Ev’rythin’ okay, Becks?”

“I-I . . ,” I try and my failure is almost immediate. The only thing that I succeed at is pushing him back into his office, and closing the door.

“Becks, what’s wrong?” urgency shines through in his voice. It’s the last thing that I can find, in my hand or my lips. My name graces my ears a few times more as I stare at the floor, not knowing how I could ever say this. Not just that, unsure of how I can make the next move, knowing that it very well may change my life from this moment on.

“I-I can’t do it, Harry.”

“You can’t do what, bug? Ge’mme lunch?” his words are carried with that breathy laugh of his. I had been doing a good job so far today, far too good of a job. That ends when the first tear greets my cheek, and my lips begin to wobble. “Becks, what’s tha matter? Yer worryin’ me, buggie.” It shows all over him, even in the way his hand comes to cradle my cheek, wiping away the tears. Worry.

My attempt at a deep breath is futile at best, and with a sigh marked by tears, I throw caution to the wind. I do it.

“Can you, please? Because, I can’t, Harry. I can’t look at it, I’m too scared,” my words have been wicked away, the moisture in my throat too. All of it. Then, the breath in my lungs grows when I lift my hand. Any composure he had had is gone in a blink.

“Becks . . ,” now, his words are kidnapped from him, too. Come on, one of us has got to do it, and it won’t be me. “Honey, I was only jokin’ this mornin.’ You didn’t hafta take one . . Wait, yer serious, arentchu, Becks?”

“Y-Yeah. I-I missed that pill what, like two weeks ago when I lost my pack, a-and, I still took it but it might have been too late,” the words are thick on my lips, caught between the sobs that paint my cheeks with tears. They’re soon shed onto his button up when he presses me against his front.

“Oh, Becks. ‘m sure ‘s fine. Ya still took it, that’s all that matters, honey.”

I can’t remember the last time I couldn’t swallow like this, or when my heart felt like it was going to jump from my chest. It doesn’t help that my chest shakes with each new sob dealt by my lips. How do I even say it? I still can’t say the word, and how is that going to fucking work if it’s true?

“I-I was supposed to get my period last week, Harry, and I didn’t. I checked after you said that this morning and- I’m so sorry,” breaths fill my lungs hastily, but the confession doesn’t tell my heart it’s okay to stop racing a nonexistent opponent. Neither does the long sigh that leaves my fiance’s lips.

“Becks, honey, you have nothin’ t’ be sorry ‘bout. Promise,” the sensation of his warm breath against my ear distracts me, but only for a mere moment.

The devil and angel inside of my head continue to scream at me to get it over with. One insists so that then I can take the biggest breath of relief while the other cackles that my life is never going to be the same. Somehow, I find the courage to step away and to find his eyes that have grown glassy. One corner of his mouth lifts to send some sunshine my way, but I feel nothing but the mid November cold outside his window.

“It may very well be negative, y’know,” he assures me, reaching his other hand out to cradle my cheek once again. His thumb swipes back and forth on the skin, wiping away the tears like the contraption on a car’s windshield.

“And if it’s not?” my voice is sheepish and nothing else, framed by sniffling.

“Then, it’ll be okay too, promise. We spoke ‘bout if somethin’ like this were t’ happen, befo’ we even started havin’ sex. So, we were prepared. We’d keep it, of course, and we’re gettin’ married soon anyway, bug. Babies were always in tha plan, maybe we’ll get our wish a tad early, ‘s all. If so, we can reschedule tha wedding t’ be early or later on. Promise you it’ll be okay, my Rebecca Ann,” I’m not sure of the last time I had heard his voice dripping with so much sweetness. This time, I can’t tell if it does anything to fill the cracks . . to fix it. “I wantchu t’ know that befo’ I turn it over and read it. And, that I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry . . so much,” I whimper, my lips soon stilled with a kiss from his. “You’re not mad?”

“No, ‘course not, bug. Why in tha world would I be mad? We’ll be okay no matter what it says, and ‘ll be happy either way. Reckon ‘ll be over tha bloody moon if it turns out one way,” his grin couldn’t possibly reach any higher. Another chunk inside of me is filled with the sourness of guilt, because everything has drained out of me, including any happiness I could find. “I know you would be too- or would you? Ya really don’t seem okay, Becks.”

“I dunno,” my shoulders rise and fall with the two parts to my sentence. “Just scared . . We had this big, perfect plan and . . “

“I know, buggie, but nothin’ ‘bout our entire relationship has ever been traditional or somethin’ close t’ normal, but we’ve turned out okay. Much better than okay, ‘d say. We’ll be okay afta this too, we always are. ‘ll always take care o’ you, Becks, and our babies one day too,” he only reminds me once again of his talent of words and choosing the right ones. I suffice my absence for them with a hand lacing with his, and squeezing it. It just so happened to be my left one, and he lifts it to press a kiss to my engagement ring.

The closest I can manage to a swallow is when his lips press below my eye, and I hear his words, “We’ll be alright.”

“I know,” at first, I’m not sure if he had heard me. When he nods, I know. But do I really believe it?

“Ready?” my favorite voice in the entire world says. I’m not, but my heart can’t go on any longer with this suspense, and so my head answers for me. “Alrighty, then,” Harry murmurs, giving my clammy hand a squeeze. Unable to decide where to look, I can’t take my eyes away, despite being uncertain how fast I’ll get the answer then.

When I think back on it later, I’d never be able to conclude whether I wish he had kept his lawyer composure or not. The way I told the story was that the second Harry turned the pregnancy test over and his eyes found it, they lit up like a Christmas tree. There couldn’t be another ray of light inside of them, and I knew.

“We’re gonna be parents, Becks,” he says in a voice choked with emotion, it too appearing in his eyes that echo mine.

“Really?” it’s as if I had been socked in the gut, because the air whooses out of me in that instant. His nodding is emphatic as he turns it around to face me. If I hadn’t believed him before, my denial is renounced when I see the word that had been a question in my mind all morning.

“We’re havin’ a baby,” Harry wheezes with wet words, dropping his arm. I don’t remember his coming around me in a hug, or replying to him, echoing those same words.

It’s all a blur, his words of excitement about becoming a father, my obligatory remarks likened to his. Moments later, I sit there on his sofa wondering what the hell just happened. Turning over the oblong plastic thing in my hands, the one word goes in and out of focus before the tears that flood my eyes.

Pregnant

I’m going to be a mum.

How?

I don’t even know how to be one. I don’t know the first thing about changing nappies. I try to eat healthy, but it never works. I hardly get enough sleep and drink enough water, as it is. Sure, I thought I’d have kids by 25, and I’m newly 28, but I still feel so young. I most definitely don’t feel ready to become a mother.

No, we’re supposed to get married this summer. I already picked out the dress. It’s perfect, and I won’t be able to fit into that with a watermelon in there, and fucking grapefruits on my chest. Wait, how far along would I be at the wedding?

Shit, I’d be ready to pop by then, if not having done so already. Fuck.

“No,” it flies from my lips. I don’t stop it as my head tips into my hands, spilling loud sobs there. The sound of my crying is the only thing that I hear. No, there are no words from Harry or consolation, because the Dad To Be couldn’t have jumped higher from the news. He’s next door telling Myles, and I couldn’t feel lower.

How can this be? We were so careful. I took my pill every day at dinnertime, but I thought still taking the one after almost missing it entirely was fine. The package said so, and I had had some spotting not long after, a few days of it. The pill had made my periods lighter and easier, so I just assumed it was my period. I went through all of the typical stuff - breakouts, sore boobs, the cramps.

“Goddammit,” I mutter under my breath, embracing the sting of my fingernails digging into my scalp. “They’re fucking pregnancy symptoms too.”

And then, there was the vomiting. It wasn’t just in the mornings, but it had been sporadic the last few days. I thought that I had come down with a bug of some sort, but no. There was a baby growing inside of me, that’s why. It was the explanation for everything - my achy boobs, the cramping, the spotting, and the throwing up.

Harry’s baby.

Our baby.

Holy fucking shit.

As the clock in Harry’s office announces every passing second, my trip on the Guilt Express only carries on, because the Happiness Train was only moving farther away from me. Instead, the stops on my ticket are Unplanned, It’s Too Soon, What About The Wedding, We Just Got Engaged, We’re Fucking Moving Houses So Where Would A Baby Go, and This Is All A Dream, Right?

The sights of Harry’s office swim into view, but their familiarity does nothing to calm me. My heart still thrashes inside of my chest, and I’m afraid it may make a run for it. Suddenly, the announcement blares inside of my head again. Harry and I are having a baby in nine months. With a sniffle, my lips wobble as my head slowly falls. Dropping the pregnancy test on my lap, my hand inches towards my body.

It’s no different when I feel it, my hand caressing my flat stomach. Nor does it look anything but how it has for as long as I can remember. I’d be lying to myself if I said it didn’t feel any different inside of me, because it does. I can’t see it, or feel it, but the words appear inside of my head momentarily.

There’s a baby in there, in my belly. My baby. I’m its mum, and Harry is its dad. They’re ours. They could be a boy or a girl. They may not be bigger than my fingernail, I suppose, but God, they’re ours. The sourness builds upon each other, and I can’t hold it back anymore, soon finding refuge in Harry’s trash bin. Whimpers leave my lips as the contents of my stomach do too.

For one of the few times, I thank God that Harry wasn’t there. I busy myself with wrapping up the bag, replacing it with a new one, and lightning some candles. It’s not enough to remove the thoughts that I’m unsure I’ll ever escape, now. My head spins when I sit down again holding it, feeling my body shake as shouts fill my mind.

Why am I not happy? I have wanted to be a mum my entire life, and now that I am, I . . I wish that I wasn’t.

Why can’t I be like Harry? He doesn’t even have to try, and he’s happy about it. The tears only come faster when I realize that I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as happy as this, rivaling the night I told him I’d marry him.

“Alright, bug?”

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear. Clearing my throat, I hurriedly wipe at my face whilst looking towards the window, wishing I could be anywhere else but here. That I could be anybody else but me.

“Y-Yeah,” my reply is mumbled. The tightness in my gut that appeared when I saw that look of happiness on his face fights on when his hand touches my shoulder.

“We should get some lunch in that belly o’ yers, Mummy. What’s sounding good t’ you?”

My insistence that I couldn’t feel worse is eradicated by his words washing over me. The specific ones that he chose to say, because it can get worse.

“I’m not very hungry.”

“Oh, stomach still queasy afta this mornin’, bub?” he questions. Without looking, I can tell that he’s taken a seat beside me, worry claiming his face. “Maybe somethin’ easy, then. Yogurt, a banana, rice, or some chicken noodle soup. Ya still gotta eat, love, ‘specially now with tha baby. They need t’ eat, too.”

Nodding my head up and down only makes it hurt worse. All I want to do is cry, and not in front of him. I want to be in our bed, without him there. What is happening to me? Since when do I wish he wasn’t around?

I don’t want to have to be thinking about how I haven’t had anything to eat today, and how that’s not good for our growing baby. The baby that relies on me to take care of it, and that in nine short months will need Harry and I every second to do that too. I hadn’t even completed my mentorship with him, or been at the firm for two years. We hadn’t even been together for two years. For God’s sake, we aren’t even married, yet.

“Becks?” for a lawyer, he does a poor job of hiding the urgency in his voice. The worry and doubt. The very feeling that I can’t walk away from, even though I don’t have it in me to try. “Any o’ that sound good t’ you . . and tha baby, love?”

There it is, again. The baby. I hate myself more and more when I get angry at him for saying it like that, reminding me of this newfound responsibility that I have. One that I didn’t ask for. I know that he doesn’t mean to add to the guilt o’meter, but he does. With every second that happiness escapes me, I do it without knowing, too.

“You can get Chinese, if you want. I’ll just have some broth and rice. I’ll try it, anyways.”

“‘Kay, good. Thanks, bug,” his words are punctuated with a kiss to the top of my head. I know that it’s coming, and that it’s the most overdue I’ve ever been for a question from him. His hand leaving stripes up and down my back doesn’t do much to help the impending doom. “Sure yer alright, Becks?”

I can’t do it. After all of the times that I did, I can’t this time. No, not about this. Wouldn’t it be easier to, though? To lie? Because, how in the fuck do I tell my fiancée, the love of my life, and my best friend in the entire world that I’m scared out of my mind that we’re having a baby? What words do I even choose to relay to the man who I’d always wanted to be the father of my children, that now we’re having a baby together, I can’t figure out how to be happy about it? I have to tell him, don’t I?

Harry is good at loads of things. Rather, there’s very few things that he’s not good at, and reading me isn’t one of them. Taking the last step that’s not there has been something I knew from the start he excelled at. When I need it the most, he does it. I feel the comforting weight of his body around mine, and sobs are flying from my lips again.

“I’m scared, Harry. I don’t know what to do, or how we’re going to do this. I don’t know how to be a mum, let alone a good one,” I couldn’t remember a time that my heart hadn’t been pounding beneath my ribs. Without asking, I wondered if the baby could hear it. It was so sudden, the way it had weaved its way into my thoughts, because all of a sudden, it was there too. The baby. Our baby. It had been there, growing inside of me for how many days now and we didn’t know.

“We’ll be okay, Becks. I promise you. I promise you. Ev’rythin’s gonna be alright, my love. ‘m gonna take care o’ you . . tha both o’ you. You, and our son or daughter. ‘ve known fer so long, well befo’ we got t’gether that you’d make a wonderful mum. Ya take care o’ me so well, and yer so good with Harper and Ollie. ‘m rather nervous too, they’ll be so tiny and helpless. I dunno tha first thing ‘bout breastfeedin,’ which dummy t’ choose, or what a baby wants when they’re cryin’ but, Becks, I know we’ll figure it out t’gether. We’re such a great team, love, and ‘m positive that we can take this on too,” my nodding into his chest is instantaneous, and so are the tendrils of relief when his fingers begin to comb through my hair. “'ve dreamt so long o’ havin’ babies with you, Becks. We’re gonna make tha cutest ones, I jus’ know it . . We’ll learn all o’ this t’gether, babe. We’ll be alright.”

“I love you, Harry,” still, the tears haven’t signalled a retreat. Neither has the sadness that weighs on my shoulders.

“I love you too, Rebecca Styles, mo’ than anythin’ in this entire world. Dunno how ‘ll come t’ love another quite like you, but already know I love our li’l baby loads. They’re gonna have tha best mum ever.”

I wish he could know that he mistakes my coming sobs for happiness when I don’t even know what the hell they are. I can’t figure out why they came when he talked about already loving our baby, and that I’ll be the best mum. Until I do, because I try to say something that affirms that I feel the same things too.

I can’t, because I don’t. I hope that eventually, I may.

It was difficult for me to remember the last time it had been like this, when all I had wanted was to feel okay again. Each time I questioned why I couldn’t, I only felt all the worse. It didn’t come when I had taken the second pregnancy test in the bathroom once Harry had gone back to his meeting. The same word showed up on this one too, although I’m not sure why I had thought it would be any different. I wasn’t sure if I could be swimming in any more guilt, realizing that I had begged and pleaded for it to say something else so all of this could go away.

I had dreamt of this day ever since I was a little girl. This wasn’t how it went. My tears were for another reason entirely, and for a while after Harry left again, I couldn’t get them to stop. I could hardly breathe. Just when I thought I’d caught my breath, the devil inside of me reminded me that I should be happy and that I’m not. The rug was pulled out from under me again and again, and so was my breath.

I’d seen him only twice this morning since we had gotten to work, seeing how he was in meetings all day long. No, now he was checking on me every hour, making excuses for bathroom breaks that were spent visiting me. By now, the tears had dried out and that was the least of my worries. As if this all wasn’t too much already, I’d never felt more numb.

It had been twenty minutes of ignorant bliss that he interrupted when he walked into my office again. The moment our eyes connect, it all comes rushing back to me. I remember it. The baby.

“Hey, love. How’s it goin’ in here?” Harry asks, looking a little too nonchalant as he strides into my office, hands in his trousers.

“You don’t have to check up on me. I’m fine, Harry,” my words take on a blunt edge that I intended, I can’t lie.

“But I want t.’ I dunno how t’ do all o’ this, ‘ve never been a Dad befo.’ I jus’ can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you, tha two o’ you,” he coos, arriving behind me and draping his arms around my neck. They lay there loosely, cupping my shoulders on either side. I thank God that he can’t see my face, especially when his hand wanders to my stomach that he rubs. “How ya feelin’? Did what ya had at lunch help settle yer stomach at all?”

Gritting my teeth, I ready my answer, forgetting the flow that I had found in writing up this statement for my case. “No,” I answer, swallowing afterwards, still able to taste it in my mouth despite the sticks of gum I’d chewed.

“Oh, ‘m sorry. Did-.”

“Yeah, I threw up again. But I’m fine, I had a cup of ginger tea and that seemed to help. I’ve been able to keep that down, plus a banana and a few slices of toast. I guess I was really hungry,” I respond, unsure of whether to take one of his hands, or not. This is all so unprecedented, and I really have no idea what I’m doing. I have a feeling of what I should be doing, like telling him that I’d already thrown up three times today, but I don’t know how to.

“God, ‘m sorry, love. ‘s it normal t’ be gettin’ sick so much like that? It can’t be good fer you or tha baby, but ‘m glad you were able t’ eat some mo.’ I hope that stuff stays down now, ‘s no wonder you were starvin’ since there was nothin’ left in there,” my eyes fall shut when his nose nudges at my temple in between kisses. “Ya sure I can’t get you anythin’? Y’know, there’s a whole case of ginger ales in me office, if ya want. I can’t believe I forgot they were there, I know they help settle yer stomach too.”

“Thanks. I might grab one a little later, or something. You should get back to your meeting, Harry, it’s important.”

“I know, jus’ wanted t’ make sure you were okay, buggie. Y’know, if ya need t’ at any time, you can go home if yer really not feelin’ well. ‘ll jus’ get a ride from Myles or somethin.’ ‘d come with, o’course, but I can’t miss these meetings,” blinking hard, his words find a crack inside of me, but there’s too many to choose from. He really is the best, only reminding me that I somehow found the perfect man to be the father to my children. I wish happiness bloomed inside of me at that realization, but sadness only comes again to overwhelm any happiness that brought me. Breathing in, my throat feels scratchy. Silently, I tell him to leave before it starts again. “If ya need anythin’ jus’ text me and ‘ll see it on me watch, ‘ll be checkin.’ I hope you have a good rest o’ yer day and that you continue t’ feel better. Love you.”

My pause continues for seconds and seconds more. Longer than I had meant before I can speak without giving it away, “I love you too.” I force a small smile at him when he walks away, wondering why I can’t have all of that sunshine inside of me like he always does. The door closes softly behind him, and my returning sobs are even quieter. Darkness is all I see when I bury my face into my knees, hugging them against my chest. Seconds later, I think of the baby, and loosen my grip.

This is what it’s going to be like for the next nine months, isn’t it? The rest of my life? I’m going to catch myself thinking about them first.

Once it starts, I can’t stop. Have I had a drink in the last few weeks? No, thank God, no. Have I been eating healthy? Kind of. Have I been sleeping well? Hardly. Wait, does sex hurt the baby? Because Harry and I had been doing a lot of that. Well, no duh, Becky, that’s what got you here in the first place. Had I been lying on my stomach too much, and would that hurt it? Had I been around secondhand smoke? Shit, did I miss my vitamin this morning?

With each new tear and question, my cheeks become slick with them. The air disappears from my lungs and I fight for it, shocked again to remember that it’s not just me anymore. I’m not just living for me anymore, or Harry, but our baby, too.

“Hey, Becks, one mo’ thing. Di- Bug, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Shit. I had just wanted to be alone with my thoughts. And our baby. But, did I really want that?

“No, how could I be? I can’t stop thinking about it. If I’ve been eating good, if I had a drink lately, if sex hurts it- Harry,” sobbing his name had never hurt as much as so many other times. Missing him afar hurt but not as much as that night we broke up. God, why am I thinking about that stuff when I’m supposed to be happy? The reminder doesn’t will the tears anyway, it only makes me feel worse.

“Oh, Becks. C’mere,” his voice is molasses all over again, but it hasn’t strayed very far from it since he told me that we were going to be Mum and Dad. That we were going to have a baby. I still can’t even say it, and I don’t think that I have. Even then, I don’t think it’d be real. No, saying it would make it too real. I know it. “Shh, ‘s okay.”

“It’s not, Harry, I’m so scared. What about the wedding and my mentorship here with you, and-,” my words are choppy and drowning under tears, but he hears them. He hears me, like he always has. His soft touch pulling me to my feet and over to my sofa doesn’t stop the incessant thoughts being thrown around in my head.

I’ll have to stop working, won’t I? What about Harry? He can’t, he owns the firm with Myles, and together with Rose, they’re in charge of all of the nitty gritty. Hiring. Helping with payroll. All of the menial stuff assigned to keeping the lights and water running. Licenses. Meetings upon meetings. Then, there’s still being a lawyer. It won’t just stop if we have a baby, but how would that work, I-

“I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, Becks, but it will be. Promise. ‘s okay that yer scared, ‘s a lot t’ wrap yer head ‘round. I keep catchin’ myself thinking, ‘Hey, ‘m gonna be a dad with a bloody kid. ‘ll be changin’ nappies, makin’ bottles, and my whole life will revolve ‘round this tiny person all o’ a sudden.’ ‘ve only jus’ started t’ talk t’ me own dad again, so I dunno how t’ be one meself, but I know ‘ll figure it out. We have nine months t’ prepare, Becks, and we’ll learn as we go. T’gether. Please, don’t worry ‘bout tha weddin’, we can move it ‘round or do a civil ceremony at first, if we want. We’ll figure it out, and it’ll still be perfect. Nothin’ less fer me girl.”

Harry’s words do everything but comfort me. Instead, they do the very opposite, and I’m struggling for breaths. Sitting on his lap, pressed against his front, I couldn’t be closer to him. My thoughts only make me feel further away from him, because of what he said. I don’t even have a mum. No, not really, so how in the fuck can I be one? Mine was horrible to me, and set the worst example of what a good mum is. So, how will I know what to do? How can I be a good mother to our baby one day soon, then?

“Yer already a good mum t’ our baby, Rebecca, I can’t say that enough. You eat good and make sure I do, drink far mo’ water than I ever do, yer always careful, never f’get t’ take yer vitamins unlike me, and sex doesn’t hurt ‘em, bug. You take such good care o’ me, you have from tha beginnin’, and I know you will with our baby too. We’ll figure somethin’ out, if you wanna stay home with ‘em once they come, or if my Mum moved up and took care o’ em. ‘ll be home too loads, I bet I could even work from home most o’ tha time. Hey, will you look at me, please?” Obliging, my head heavy with multitudes of questions lifts. Blinking, more tears join the others as his face sharpens before me. “I wouldn’t have wanted kids with you if I knew you wouldn’t be a good mum. Buggie, I want loads o’ em with you, so if that tells you anythin’ ‘bout how wondaful o’ a mum I know you’ll be t’ our kids . . We’re gonna have a baby, and we’ll be alright. ‘Kay?”

“We’re . . ,” the same sentence begins on my lips, but it falters. His own urges me to breathe, and I focus on that while his fingers card through my hair. The green in his eyes is molten heaven when I look back. I hope that they have his eyes. “We’re gonna . . have a baby, Harry.”

“Ya, we are, Becks. Tha cutest baby in all tha world, and sweetest too,” he grins, his sunshine warming my face.

“And we’ll be alright.”

“Yes, we will, my love. ‘ll make sure o’ it,” he concludes, smushing his lips against my forehead where he sponges a kiss. A zing spreads from his lips, and with those words, I start to breathe again.

Maybe, we will be okay.

“And then what happened, Mum?” her almond shaped blue eyes stare up at me, hanging onto my every word.

Swallowing, the words I know I’ll have to say wad into a ball in my throat. She knew, she’d heard bits of this story at times, but I wonder how much she remembered.

“Spoiler alert, things weren’t okay.”

“How come?” the way a wrinkle forms between her dark eyebrows reminds me of somebody all too well.

“Are you sure you want to hear this, love? It gets kind of sad,” I warn her, combing her dark chocolate curls off of her face. They’re just like his. Only when she nods with confidence in her actions do I continue, despite wishing he was here to help me tell this part.

It wasn’t okay. No, it was the very opposite. I had wished things would get better, that this nightmare would turn out to be a dream come true, but it wasn’t. Not yet, anyways.

I wish that I knew how to talk to him. There had never been a time when I was afraid to speak to Harry, or when I didn’t know how to. No, not for a very long time, at least. It was impossible to count the number of times I had put my head in my hands from the litany of thoughts raging inside of it, or just from the aches it held for other related reasons. I didn’t know what to do, and I wish that I did. Tense couldn’t even cover it, how it felt between us the last few days since the news hit. I seriously considered driving separately to work today to avoid it, until realizing it probably would only stir the pot, inciting another row between Harry and me. With how much my head already throbbed from likely dehydration and my pounds of destructive thoughts, I opted out of that one.

Staring at my cell phone sitting beside my laptop, my chin falls into my hand with a huff. The dark screen stares back at me as I will it to ring, to ding, or just to do anything because of him.

No, not anything, Becky. If you wished that, you’d end up getting another one of his annoying texts asking if you’d tried eating again. How much water were you drinking? If you wanted anything from the break room, if he were there. No, you just wanted a hug from him. Becky, you wanted a text from him that was about anything other than the baby. Him sending you a song he thought you’d like, a funny meme, a recipe the both of you should try, or just a sweet text.

I thought my hard work had paid off when I hear the chiming of a ringtone, even if it was my office’s. Still holding out hope, I pick it up, chirping my usual greeting, “This is Becky.”

“Hi, love! It’s about time I got ahold of you,” at the sound of the voice, my heart plummets into my stomach. My hand in my hair turns into a claw, my scalp soon singing with mild pain.

My lips wobble, unknowing of what words to say, and what tone to take, “H-Hi, Mum.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m sorry, I-,” my beginning is rough, rooted in my tendency to people-please, just like I had always done with her. The phone begins to slip from my fingers clammy with a nervous sweat. Already. “Why are you calling me at work?” I almost say that same name again, the one word I’d always called her. It never felt real, like she was my mum, so why should I call her that? It never stopped being true though, that was just her name. No matter how much I hated her and that name, I could never stop it from being true.

“Because you weren’t answering your phone, silly! How have you been, Ree?” there’s a lift to her voice, the same one that drills an emptiness into my bones. It’s the one that she used to hide it all, in front of teachers, my friends’ parents, and anybody that she needed to use it with. It was the calm before the storm, the show she was trying to put on. The last thing I needed right now was another storm to come colliding with the one already raging a war inside of me. Through my life.

Closing my eyes, my thumb presses against my temple. No, you don’t get to call me that, M- Kate. I had been conflicted about wanting him all day long, but now, I needed him. How good he was at saving me.

“I can’t talk right now, I’m working. Can-.”

“You stand Robbie and me up the other day, and I have to hear from somebody else that you got engaged! I think that the least you can do, Rebecca, is to talk to your mother for a few goddamn minutes,” her retort finds the gap in the door I hadn’t been able to close ever since I saw that word on that test. That was when my world had gotten turned upside down, something I hadn’t been able to fix just yet. I realized that was even further away now when her words send my teeth down into my bottom lip, the taste of iron overpowering on my lips.

It had taken him so long to bring that name back, to drag it out of the closet and to dust it off, polishing it back up. Within seconds, she had broken it again, and I wished he could be there to fix it up. Because no, he was in court right now, I realized, and for the first time today, I told myself the truth about needing him. But he was angry with me, the one person I couldn’t stand being mad at me.

“You don’t get to call me that, or talk to me like that, I-,” my bravery is short-lived, but the blame isn’t dealt to me, it sits in her hands instead.

“No, Rebecca Ann Holte, you don’t get to talk to me, your mother, like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, I have wanted nothing more than to reconnect with my only daughter, and she can’t even return a message of mine,” her sigh is louder than mine, because that had always been the theme, hadn’t it? She always had been worse off than me, so I had no room to talk, she’d say. When she lost her job or my dad left her. It was always about her. “I hope to God you don’t become a mother one day, you are one of the rudest and ugliest people I know, so I can’t imagine how your kids would turn out. I mean it, you have one of the ugliest hearts, Rebecca. I can’t believe you’re my daughter. I have tried how many times with you to fix things, and you never give me the chance.”

That smell came, the one that fills you when the wetness floods your eyes. I smell them, painting my palm, most likely ruining my lazy attempt at makeup today. I thought I had felt empty before, but it shrinks in comparison to the hollowness that swims throughout me.

Climbing my throat, the arguments and refusals neared, despite not knowing if I believed them. I wish I did as I spoke them, “No, I will be a good mum one day, even if I never had one myself, because I would never treat my children the way you have always treated me, Kate. I don’t care anymore what you think of me, or my heart, because you speak from an ugly one yourself. I have never wanted to fix things with you, because you never change, can’t you see that?” they’re picking apart my voice now, weighing on close to every word, but I know I have a few more until they consume me all entirely. “You are not my mother, and I don’t want to ever see you again or speak to you for as long as I live. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to tell you that and you don’t get it. This is the last time you ever will, because if you contact me again, or God forbid, my fiance, I promise that you will regret it because I’m a fucking lawyer and my soon to be husband is one as well, not to mention one of the most powerful ones in Britain. And my name is Rebecca Styles.”

It echoes, the clank of the phone hitting the holder after I slammed it down, ending the call. I don’t hear it for long, because the floodgates have opened, again. My lungs burn from lack of air, something I can’t seem to find as my entire body seizes with a sob, one word repeating over and over in my head. Lies. Lies. Lies. Ones that I tell myself, because I can’t help but believe her. Am I really sure that I could ever be a good mum? Then another starts, a new word incessantly filling my head.

“Harry.”

It was the furthest from okay, continuing with how I couldn’t stop throwing up, quite literally, and the way it made Harry sick himself with worry. Consequently, this could only lead to one thing, and that was me losing my patience, or lack thereof with him despite his good intentions.

“I think ya need t’ go and see yer doctor ‘bout this.”

“I don’t, Harry, morning sickness is normal,” I insist, plucking a K-Cup from the drawer. Suddenly, I remember and shove it back into the box, for the third time today. The jury was still out on whether or not to drink coffee while pregnant. More importantly, whether Daddy Harry who was doing all of the research and therefore breathing over my shoulder was okay with it. Not that I could keep it down, anyways, which was the ultimate winner. It still hadn’t gotten any easier, trying to figure out this new life of mine, and it was only Day 4 of it. I had wondered, time and time again just how long they had already been with us and we just didn’t know it.

“Ya, but this isn’t, Becks, and I think y’know it.”

“It’s fine, Harry. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” shoving a mug onto the little stand, I avoid his gaze whilst watching the hot water spurt out of the machine.

“Ya never wanna talk ‘bout it when I bring it up lately. Not when we were at tha shops yest’day and I suggested lookin’ at baby clothes. Not when I asked ya when we should tell our families.” I don’t know how to respond, and so I play my favorite card, just like I’ve been doing lately. It’s called the Silence card, and Harry really hated that one, even more than the Only Nodding one. “You’ve hardly been able t’ keep any food down, love. Yer livin’ on crackers and ginger tea, that can’t be good fer you and tha baby.”

I didn’t mean to, but I still blinked hard when he said it, as if I needed a reminder it was there. A baby growing inside of me, the reason for all of this. Our baby.

“I’m fine, Harry.”

“I thought we were done lyin’ t’ each other, Becks. We’re gettin’ married soon, and now, we’re . . we’re startin’ a family,” he wasn’t a lawyer for no reason, and sometimes, I hated it. He used it to his advantage, his way with words and snappy comebacks. He knew where to hit and his aim was always spot on, but I didn’t like how he used it with me, too.

He was right, I wasn’t fine. I couldn’t be in the kitchen while he cooked without running to the loo to relieve myself. If I’m honest, I was getting sick of my diet of ginger ale and soda crackers. It was a party when some chicken broth or a bite of a banana would stay down, even though they never sounded good to me. Nothing did, not even the churros from Pedro’s, or our favorite muffin. Believe me, Harry had tried. It had grown old quickly how he had come to watch me eat, arguing with me to take just one more bite or another spoonful, even though we both knew that I would throw it up later.

It wasn’t just that. I was so exhausted, which I figured was mostly due to the lack of food thing. The only thing I was good at lately was sleeping. I could hardly stay awake past 7:30 pm anymore, and negotiated every extra minute of sleep in the morning that I could from Harry. Well, that was until I woke up at the ass crack of dawn to hang out with the toilet, again. Plus, my boobs hurt something fierce and Harry found out when he went to play with them the other day. Let’s just say, he’s not going to try that again after I almost bit his head off. Whoops.

“I am fine, and I don’t need to go and see a doctor, Harry. Let’s just give it a few more days, okay?” I sigh at last, removing the steaming mug from underneath the spout. Gulping, I dip the tea bag into the water, watching how spots of the water grow dark in places from it.

“Fine,” he retorts, leaving his spot beside me, slamming the door to the break room behind him.

Despite watching him do it, I jump in place. Forgetting the tea, it was too hot anyways, I follow him after a few moments. Doing my best to avoid prying eyes, I take a different way to his office, hoping I can try to calm down during the extra time. Arriving at his door, I found it was a blunder all entirely, because I can’t hold back the next words once I step into his office.

“Why are you being like this?”

“Why am I?” Harry spits back from behind his desk, lifting his head to look at me. He was wearing one of my favorite outfits of his today, the brown cheetah print shirt and tight black slacks, but it didn’t do anything to help our predicament. “Why are you, Becks? Huh? This ‘s s’posed t’ be tha happiest time o’ our lives, and yer bein’ like this.”

There it is again, his way with words, the stabbing ones. My sights on him falters, eyes falling to the floor before I look back to him. “How am I being then?”

“Yer bein’ selfish,” he almost shouts, but he doesn’t need to. He’s never had to, because he can achieve all of the disdain and hurt without the added volume. “We’re having a baby, Becks, we’ve always spoken ‘bout wantin’ kids. Now, we are, and yer actin’ like . . like you don’t want our baby.”

“I never said that,” my voice is quiet, and unconvincing. The both of us know it, despite my half-lie. The one I had been so afraid for him to find out, and suddenly, I feel sick all over again.

“You didn’t need t’, I know it,” it works for him, the soft voice. You’d think that tone would be reserved for gentleness, but no, it’s not. I hate that about him, how he can turn like a whip, but can’t we all? “And God, Becks, ya won’t shut up ‘bout tha wedding. Why can’t we jus’ have a bloody civil ceremony first? Tha whole thing ‘s t’ get married - exchange vows and become husband and wife. We don’t need all tha fancy dresses, food, and a party at first. It can wait, Becks, until after tha baby ‘s here. Or we can whip up somethin’ t’ have this Winter . . but yer already shakin’ yer head ‘cos you hate that idea. Fuck, can I do anythin’ right fer you lately?”

“Harry,” I begin in a tone leaking with an apology that I don’t know how to say. “I’m going through a lot right now.”

“I know, love, we both are. Our lives have changed already in tha last few days ‘cos o’ this, but ‘s jus’ a wedding, Becks. I wanna marry you, but right now I don’t care ‘bout a cake, tuxes, and what fuckin’ song we walk down tha aisle t.’ All I care ‘bout right now is tha fact we’re havin’ a baby and ‘m so excited . . . but I wish you were too. They’re gonna be here in nine months whether we like it or not, and I think you need t’ learn how to like it. I jus’-,” he cuts himself off with a hand pressed to his mouth, cutting eye contact.

“What? You were going to say something else,” I continue, but he won’t, refusing to with a shake of his head. “Say it, Harry.”

“I jus’ can’t believe you, yer like a completely different person since we found out ‘bout tha baby.”

“I’m a different person, huh? I take it you mean that in a bad way, am I right?” I don’t know where it comes from, but bravery finds me, and the words come spilling out. “I just found out that I’m pregnant, Harry, that I’m growing a human being inside of me. I have to share my body, and make sure that I’m making the right choices every second. I have to protect it, feed it, get enough sleep, take the right vitamins, eat the right foods, and try not to be too stressed out. But, hey, I already messed up on that one. I didn’t ask for this and I’m scared, so yeah, maybe I’m a different person. You know what? So are you, and I don’t like it. I’m trying my best, and I hate how it’s never enough for you, this new you . . Forget about going out to dinner tonight, I don’t want to be around you right now, you’re- ugh, you’re so overwhelming, Harry.”

It was a question I couldn’t answer - whether I had been honest with myself lately, or lied to myself more than ever before. It was clear as day and I couldn’t lie about this one, the look on his face when I blinked and saw it all register with him.

“Fine. Forgive me fer fuckin’ carin’ ‘bout you and our unborn baby, Becks. ‘m rather sick o’ bein’ ‘round you too when yer like this, so go and have a good night. Lemme know when yer done bein’ selfish, and when yer ready t’ be a family t’gether. I have t’ go t’ court now,” if there were words of Harry’s that I’d always remember, somehow these had become some of them. They rang in my ears long after he had stormed out of his office, and I had escaped to mine with tears already staining my cheeks.

What in the fuck have I done now?

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

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Jensen Ackles: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

*Not My GIF* Holy Fuck That Smile At The End

Pairing: Jensen x Reader *I have nothing against Jensen and Danneel Ackles. This is only for the sake of a Fanfiction*

Pov: Reader’s

Warnings: Sadness, Being a little lonely, Cute Jensen, Texting, and Calling each other Angst a little.

Rating: Adult Mature

Summary: After Covid19 Jensen still has to go back to set and record the rest of the “Supernatural” episodes. While he’s away Y/n and him message everyday, and call every night. Jensen will sometimes send pictures of just him, or of Jared, Misha, and him.

Word Count: 1,243

God, I really missed him. We'd had spent almost 6 months together. Just me and my hubby. Me and MY cuddle muffin, Me and my little spoon. A cold, big bed sucked horribly to be sleeping alone in it.

Jensen had left over a week ago. The first week I spent cleaning up the house making sure everything was put back into its place. I also spent a lot of time just gettin' the sun and swimming in our pool outback. Every morning I went for a run, making me be able to get through the day with a nice crash at the end of the night, on-again my cold, empty, big bed.

Jensen had gone back to the supernatural set to record the last 2 episodes of the shows final season. Durin' the time we spent together alone at home, we had many conversations about finally starting a family, but only we knew the show was coming to end to that Jensen would be there for the kids and be able to create memories with them and for them. Instead of being stuck in a different place and time zone and not being able to spend that time with his family.

Hubby<3- Good Mornin’ Baby girl. How’d you sleep?

Y/n- I slept pretty good, I wish you were next to me instead of being alone in this darn bed. Oh and good morning to you too!

Y/n- How’s your day going? Probably lot’s of filming right?

Hubby<3- Baby I wish I was there too, My day it’s going well I have had a few shoots. Misha, jared, and I are going out to have dinner later on tonight.

Y/n- Aww, really tell them that I miss them, and you better be safe honey. I miss you too like really badly.

Hubby<3-

Hubby<3- I miss you most. What’s my baby girls plan for the rest of the day?

Y/n- I’m gonna take a bath, then maybe go shopping.

Hubby<3- Wish I could join you in that bath baby!

Y/n-

Y/n- This tub seems so much bigger now!

Hubby<3- Oh come on you know that this isn’t fair.

I was and still am the very best tease I think Jensen has ever encountered. So with Jensen being gone for such long times. I thought I would kinda just do whatever I needed to do to you know keep my sanity. I haven’t told Jensen but I.... We are getting a dog.

Later on that night

Hubby<3- I’m so happy! One day less until I can come home to my sweet sweet wife.

Y/n- Just One day less Honey. I really can’t wait to be in your arms again

Hubby<3- Call me!

Having to stop what I was doing I pressed the call button. The phone didn't even ring for more than a few seconds before Jensen was on the other side of the phone greeting me with hellos and what did you do today questions.

I will say the minute I heard his voice, my own voice became very timid, and sounded as if I was going to cry. I guess Jensen heard it.

“Baby are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.I just haven’t talked to you in a few days and I really miss you.” A stray tear rolling down my face thinking about not having him around me on a daily basis.

“How about I tell you a few stupid things that happened here on set today? Would that maybe cheer my baby girl up?”

“Sure I’d love to hear about your day!” I said wiping the tear that had made its way down to my chin away. The wetness of the tear now annoying my skin.

“So of course Jared had to be a complete and utter dumbass. fucking around with Misha. Misha and I were trying to do a emotional scene and Misha couldn’t keep in character because of Jared stupid attentics. Jared was than asked very nicely to leave set and go to his trailer. You would think at this point of working with Jared for so many years that Misha would just learn to ignore it.”

“Oh christ, How old is Jared again?” I said my voice a little bit more happier than pryer. Jensen talking always makes me happy no matter where we are. He could talk and it would make me fall asleep. But tonight I have something to tell him too.

“Jared, oh he’s totally like 5.” Jensen said with a chuckle at the end.

“I.. um have something to tell you.”

“Okay shoot.” Jensen said probably pacing around the small apartment he had in Vancouver. He gets worried a lot, so maybe the idea of telling him now isn’t the best.

“Are you pregnant?” Jensen said while I was in my train of thought. Just has quickly has are you pregnant came out of his mouth No came out of mine.

“No, It’s something else but it’s just as good! and you can’t get mad when I tell you what it is.”

“Well, Okay I promise not to get mad, but what did you do Y/n?” Jensen said

“I may have gotten a pet.” I said with sarcasm lacing my tongue.

“Be. More. Specific. Y/n.” Jensen said his tone turning not into anger but getting agitated with the fact that I hadn’t yet told him what I had done.

“Fine Jensen I will be more specific. I got a dog, well actually it’s a puppy.”

It was quiet for a minute. And then everything that I wasn’t expecting happened. He just fucking ended the call! I went back to text and sent a few messages.

Y/n- Did you just end out call???

Y/n- Jensen, it’s a dog thats all. I need company when you aren’t here. I need something to keep from being upset when my Husband leave to go to work.

Y/n- You know what just be mad than Jensen. Good night Jensen.

Setting my phone down on the coffee table face down. Trying to grasp the reason for why he had ended the call, why he had gotten so mad. You know what it’s not important why he got mad. I’m going to sit here with Ross watch some shows on Netflix, and be happy.

My phone buzzed on the table. I really tried to ignore it, but I knew it was Jensen so I couldn’t just ignore him, he’s my husband for god sake.

Hubby<3- Why didn’t we talk about this before you just went ahead and did something?

Y/n- Why? Why because I thought you’d understand my reasoning and that you’d end up loving the dog in the long run. How mad are you at me?

Y/n- This is Ross btw.

Hubby>3- Wait. What’s his name?

Y/n- Ross, I gave him your middle name so even if you weren’t here with me. I still had apart of you with me.

Hubby<3- I wasn’t mad. I just guess I wasn’t ready for you to say you got a dog. I guess I just really wanted to do it with you, and thank you baby I do really think he’s cute.

Y/n- He is, and from now on we always check with each other on things. Make sure neither one of us wanted to do, or already has planned something. I love you Jensen.

Hubby<3- I love you too y/n. Now call me back, actually Facetime me. I wanna see my son. ♥♥♥

Tag List - @akshi8278

#jensen ackles #jensen x reader #quarantine #fliming #supernatural #texting #marriagelife #doggylove

114 notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years

Text

Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Eight

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, and a wee bit of smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

The next day you and Harry drive out to a Lowe’s to check out their outdoor section. Your balcony wasn’t huge, but it was large enough to fit a small table a few chairs, with room to fit a grill.

“These chairs are comfy.” You say sitting down on one of them. “Come sit, tell me what you think.” Harry shrugs and takes a seat in your lap, and you start laughing.

“Rather comfortable I’d say.” He moves his butt from side to side. “Could really see myself sittin’ on this outside.”

“Harry!” You squeal. “Get your big butt off of me, we’re in public!” You giggle. He turns to look at you.

“Oh, so when we’re in public you don’t want this ass, but at home-“

“Harry!” Your face goes beat red, and he stands up. You stand up and shake your head at him. “Please, just sit in the chair.”

“Geeze, didn’t think you’d get all flustered.” He sits down. “This genuinely is a nice chair, I think we should get a few.” He stands up and takes your hand. “What do you think of a glass table, this round one looks nice?”

“Good eye, I agree.” He kisses your temple, and then you go to look at the grills.

“We don’t need a huge one right now, just somethin’ to get the job done.”

“I don’t even know how often we’d use it, we don’t eat meat.”

“Yeah, but we could throw veggie burgers on it, or just regular veggies. Corn, god, I love corn on the cob in the summer.”

“Me too, actually.”

You both pick one out that you like, and find an associate to order everything up. The gift card your dad gave you was a big help. They said they’d be able to deliver everything by the middle of the week. Harry walks over to the paint section to show you some of the colors he’s thinking for his office.

“Lou called me yesterday, forgot to tell you.” Harry says on your drive home.

“Oh? Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. They’ve just pushed the date off a little later. El wants to wait until the baby’s born. Said she didn’t want to be pregnant in all of her photos.”

“Don’t blame her for that.”

“Neither does he. Plus it just gives them more time to save up for everything.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Oh, she’s good, about to start her second trimester. Lou said you can actually see her bump. He’s been enjoying actually gettin’ to be a part of things this time. He didn’t get to do any of the pre-baby stuff with his ex, other than a few doctor’s appointments. He said every night he rests his head her stomach and like talks to the baby.”

“That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’d do the same thing, you know?”

“I’m sure you would. You’d have a stack of bedtime stories ready to go too.”

“Mhm, and I’d sing to it.”

“Harry…you don’t sing now.”

“I do sometimes.”

“Only if the volume’s turned all the way up.”

“Maybe I get a little self-conscious because you’re such a good singer.”

“I am not, stop it.”

“You’re more confident.”

“Doesn’t mean I sound good. Although, when I can actually hear you, I have to say, you have a lovely voice.” He blushes and takes your hand to kiss it.

You get home and start up a few chores. Your sheets were in desperate need of a wash. Harry scrubs down the kitchen while you take care of the living room.

“We can go to the grocery store tomorrow right? I don’t really feel like goin’ back out.” He says.

“Of course, no rush with that. Just wanted to get some of the cleaning done today.” Harry’s phone goes off, and he answers it.

“Hello?” He furrows his brows and then his face softens. “Oh hey! Yeah, no, just took me a second, how are you?” He walks away from you. You shrug and sit on the sofa, turning the TV on. About twenty minutes later he comes over to sit down next to you.

“Who was that?”

“Old friend from uni who lives up in Vermont.”

“Oh?”

“He, uh, breeds labradoodles. Two of ‘em just had a fresh littler.”

“How often do you talk to this friend?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Once in a while. Anyways, I know your allergies get bad, but labradoodles-“

“Are you asking me if I want a dog?”

“A puppy.” He corrects you. “And for free at that.”

“Dogs are like three thousand dollars, he’s just going to give you one for free?”

“He owes me a favor.”

“For what?”

“None of your business.”

“Harry Edward Styles.” You gasp.

“Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.” He crosses his arms. “Do you want have a dog with me or not?”

“Do you think now’s the right time? We’re both always so busy.”

“I could bring it to the studio with me, it’ll be like havin’ a shop dog.”

“That’s true.”

“And I know a dog is a lot different than havin’ a kid, but I think it would help with the baby fever.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it! Please, please can we get the puppy? He sent me some pictures, this one would be ours.” He shoves his phone in your face, and you see the cutest little brown haired puppy you’ve ever seen.

“Harry, can we even afford a dog with everything going on right now?”

“Think we could manage it. Buy the food in bulk. It’s the vet visits at the beginning, and then it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Is this a boy or a girl? Not that it really matters…”

“Think it’s a boy.”

“What would we name him?” Harry’s grin grows.

“Are you saying we can get the dog?”

“Obviously! Look at how cute he is!” Harry takes you in his arms and practically squeals.

“We can name him, uh, whatever you want, lemme call my friend back.” He gets up and makes the call. He comes back a few minutes later, very excited. “Said the pup’ll be at eight weeks this week, so we can pick him up next weekend if we want.”

“Next weekend?! We have to get so much stuff. Food, bowls, a collar, a tag. We’ll have to register him at town hall.” Harry grabs your face and kisses you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sigh. “Now, what should we name him, let me see the picture again.” He hands you his phone. ‘What names do you like?”

“Max?” You look at him and scrunch your face.

“That’s so generic. What about Peter?”

“Peter?!”

“Yeah, we could call him Pete.”

“We are not namin’ our dog Peter.” Harry gasps and snaps his fingers. “I’ve got it.”

“What?”

“Winston.”

“Winston?”

“How fuckin’ cute would that be?”

“Winston Styles?”

“Oh, so the dog would have my last name?”

“Duh, he’s going to be our baby isn’t he?” You think for a second. “What about Buster?”

“Buster Styles…that could work.” You both look at the picture again. “He looks like a Buster.” He throws his arm around you.

“Yeah, he does.”

“You’re gettin’ a dog?!” Niall says in the car Monday morning.

“Yup, his name is going to be Buster. He’s so cute Niall.”

“That’s a huge step.”

“Oh, and being on the same lease together isn’t?” You joke.

“No, it’s just…like if something happened…now a dog is in the middle of it.”

“Something as in us breaking up? Are you stupid?” He makes a face at you. “Niall, Harry and I are happier than we’ve ever been, why would you even say something like that?”

“I don’t know…just gotta think about those things sometimes. So, like, hypothetically speaking, you truly plan to marry Harry some day?”

“It’s not even a hypothetical, Niall. That’s the plan.” He smiles at you.

“Can’t wait for you two to fight over which weddin’ party I’ll be in.”

“Mine of course.” You scoff. “Fuck him.” You both laugh.

Harry and your dad finish all of the major renovations by Wednesday, which leaves him to start painting on Thursday. He told Rachel he’d prime everything. She came in after her school day was over to help him finish it up.

“I’ll be able to come after work tomorrow to start Mariah’s office. It looks so great in here.”

“Yeah, we did pretty good right?”

“Harry, can I ask you something?” He puts the paint roller down and looks at her. Rachel looked cute today, she had these white painters’ overalls on with splashes of old paint all over them. Harry just had old jeans he didn’t care about on and a t-shirt.

“Course.”

“We never really get alone time to talk. I guess, I just wanna know…um, I really care about Y/N, she’s one of my best friends…and I know you both love each other, but you’d never do anything to hurt her right?”

“Oh my god, no, of course not.”

“I care about her a lot, and I’ve never really liked any of the guys she’s dated. I like you, obviously, but I’ll be honest, it took me some time to warm up to you.”

“Really? Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I was honestly shocked when she told me you wanted to set me up with someone, I didn’t know you cared that much. Mariah makes me really happy, so I’m sort of grateful for you.” She laughs.

“I felt terrible when all that stuff with Lora happened.” He sighs. “I’m really happy things are working out so well with you and Mariah.” You both grab the paint rollers and continue to prime the walls. “I want you to know…I’m in it for the long haul with Y/N.” She looks at you.

“What does that mean exactly? I know you two are getting a dog soon…”

“Yup, his name is gonna be Buster.” He smiles. “We’re drivin’ up to Vermont early Saturday morning. We’re gonna spend the night in the Burlington area, and then get the puppy Sunday.”

“That’ll be nice…what comes after the dog though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, okay, you’re living together, and now you’re getting this dog with her…it’s all so…grown up.” Harry starts laughing.

“You make it sound like I’m this thirty-year-old dude sweepin’ her off from her life.”

“It’s just…last time a friend settled down we never saw her anymore, and you know how the rest of it went. Getting a dog with someone is like the test to see how you’d be as a parent. I feel like all of a sudden you two are gonna be in the suburbs with two kids and we’ll never see her anymore. Practically lost her once after the whole thing with Jake, I can’t lose her again.” Rachel feels tears prick at her eyes.

“Hey, woah, I’m not takin’ her away from anyone. And she’s told me she doesn’t exactly want to move out of the city yet either. There’s no rush for anything.”

“But you two talk about having babies all the time.”

“Not all the time.”

“Harry.”

“Well, it’s important to talk about don’t you think? Be on the same page with your partner.”

“You wanna marry her?”

“At some point, yeah.” She smiles and nods.

“You know, I had a huge crush on her when we first met.” She chuckles. “When we became really good friends, I eventually told her. I think we both cried. She told me she felt terrible that she couldn’t return my feelings. Like she was genuinely torn about it. I think it made us closer. I got over it of course, but that feeling of just wanting what’s best for her will always linger. When we got to spend that semester in California together it made me realize that she’s so special, you know? She deserves the world.”

“And I wanna give it to her.” He puts everything down. “Would it be alright if we hugged?” He had tears in his eyes too. She puts everything down and opens her arms up. They share a nice embrace. You and Mariah walk in with dinner. Mariah coughs loudly to get their attention.

“We just had to go and date the two biggest blubber bags out there, didn’t we?” She says to you and you start laughing.

“What the hell are we gonna do with you two, what happened?”

“We were having a nice moment until you two ruined it.” Rachel says sticking her tongue out at you. You stick yours out back. “What you bring for dinner?” She asks excitedly, walking over to Mariah to give her a kiss.

“Sushi.” She smiles.

“Got some foldin’ chairs in the back, hold on.” Harry says and goes to get them. He stops short, turns around to kiss you, and then goes to get them.

“He’s cute.” Rachel says.

“Yeah, he is.” You smile.

Harry comes back with four folding chairs so you all can sit and eat.

“Harry, if you leave me the keys I can come in this weekend to paint while you’re gone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. I can get Mariah’s office and the kitchen done easily. Then when you get back we can do the rest.”

“Then it’s just the furniture right?” Mariah asks.

“Yeah, we’re going to have a waiting area over there.” Harry points. “Two small love seats, and then Isaac’s desk should be here any day. Got him one that he can stand up at too like he’s been wantin’. And then our desks will be here in a couple of weeks along with our chairs. We can start bringing the equipment in once the painting is done.”

“I’m so excited, I can’t wait to put my two weeks in. It’s been insufferable without you there.”

“Right, because my attitude just brightened the whole place up.” He says sarcastically, making you all laugh.

“I swear I thought Julia was going to kill herself when she saw your office all cleared out after you left. Luckily, her and Dana are done in two weeks. We might actually hire Dana for the summer. Paige really enjoyed her help.” Harry nods. The mention of Julia’s name makes you cringe.

“You didn’t tell any of them where I went did you?”

“No, but everyone hounded me. I just told them you wanted to focus on your freelance work. Not like it was a lie.” She shrugs.

“I just don’t want any of them findin’ me. Isaac’s kept quiet?”

“Mhm, he’s just excited to get out of there too.”

The four of you finish eating, and you tell Harry you’ll see him at home while him and Rachel finish up. You’re in your pj’s, cuddled up on the sofa watching TV when he gets in. He strips all of his clothes off, besides his boxers, and plops down next to you.

“Harry…”

“Didn’t wanna get paint anywhere.” He yawns. “How’s my baby?” He kisses your cheek.

“Good.” You giggle.

“Just imagine, you’ll have a little pup all cuddled up with you on these later nights.”

“Mhm, it’ll be nice.” You yawn. “I need to set up the little bed inside the crate for him. I mean it, he’s not sleeping in the bed with us.”

“I never disagreed with you, but if he starts cryin’ you can be the one to comfort him.”

“He won’t cry because he won’t know any different. We just need to make the crate a safe space, not a punishment, then he’ll have no problem sleeping in it. Then when he gets a little older we can take the bed out of the crate and he’ll know that’s his bed.”

“You know I’m kind of looking forward to being away for the night.”

“Me too, I’m glad we’re making a weekend of it. I’ve never been to the Ben and Jerry’s factory, I’m so excited.”

“There’s a cider mill right down the road from there too that we should check out.”

“I’ve never been to Burlington either. I think I’ve been to Vermont like once in my life.” You laugh. “We never really had a reason to go.”

“The lads and I would head up there to buy weed on the cheap.” He says nonchalantly. “You know, before it was legal here.”

“Hm, interesting.”

“Alright, miss straight edge.”

“I’m not judging.”

“Mhm, yeah. There’s worse drugs out there, you know?”

“Yeah, like mushrooms.”

“Should’ve never told you that.” He shakes his head.

“Well, you did.” You crawl into his lap and he lays back so you can lay on him. “Hi.” You nuzzle into his chest.

“Hi baby.”

“What were you and Rachel doing earlier, when we walked in?”

“We just had a moment is all.” He strokes your hair and rubs your scalp. “She…really cares about you.”

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “She’s the best.” You smile and lean in to kiss him. “So are you.” You nuzzle your nose to his. “I love you so much, I’m really happy.”

“I love you too, darlin’. I’m happy too.” You kiss for a while on the couch before you both start to feel sleepy. Then it’s off to bed.

You both get up early Saturday to get to Vermont. It would be along, and annoying drive. You took some pills to help you not get carsick. Harry was an excellent driver, but you knew there would be a lot of back roads involved at some point.

You put on some cuffed jeans and a white short sleeve crop top. You pair it with a blue cardigan and your white tennis shoes. Harry has a loose pair of jeans on and a band t-shirt.

“I’m so happy it’s gettin’ warmer out.”

“Me too.” You look around. “Everything’s all set up for him.”

“Yup.” He kisses you and grabs the overnight bags. “Let’s go.”

Harry lets you put a playlist on. A mix of old and new songs. You gasp when a particular song comes on. You’ve Made Me So Very Happy by Blood Sweat & Tears.

“Oh my god I love this song!” You turn the volume up and sing along. “Have you heard this before?”

“Yeah, I thought a woman sang it.”

“There are a ton of covers. I think I like this one the best.”

You continue to sing while Harry listens to the lyrics. Every word perfectly describes how he feels about you.

I chose you for the one. Now I'm having so much fun… You treated me so kind, I'm about to lose my mind…You made me so very happy. I'm so glad you came into my life…

Harry makes a mental note of the song for future use, especially when he sees how much you love it. You hold his hand while you sing. You must resonate with the lyrics too.

You eventually make to the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory. You couldn’t wait to stretch your legs. You practically run inside.

“I need to pee so bad!” Harry laughs at you while you find a bathroom.

“Tour’s only five bucks a person, I got us two tickets.” He says when you come back. You thank him and wait to be called in with the rest of the group.

A short movie is shown, and then you all are brought in to see how the ice cream is packaged and produced. Next you’re brought downstairs where they give you a sample to try.

“Mm, oh my fucking god.” You can help but moan when you lick at the chocolate malt ice cream. Harry looks at you. “You have to at least try it.”

“I don’t like chocolate ice cream. And you better be careful that’s gonna upset your stomach.”

“No it won’t it’s only a little, and it’s soooo good.” You lick at it again and smile. “That’s some good shit, wow.”

When you’re done you take a picture together outside in front of the sign. You drive down the street to the cider mill. You go inside and see all of the things that can be made with cider and or syrup.

“Look Harry, a maple syrup hot sauce, this could be fun to try.”

“Sure.” He smiles.

“Are you feeling tired? I could drive the rest of the way to the hotel.”

“Would you mind? It would be nice to close my eyes for a bit.”

“Of course.” You kiss him on the cheek, pay for your things and head to the car.

You kept the music volume low while he slept. You pulled into the parking lot of the small hotel. It was really more like an inn.

“Baby, we’re here.”

“Hm? Oh, okay.” He stretches and gets out of the car. He grabs your bags and you both go in to check in.

You get into the room and put everything down. You both wash up and head back down to the car. You drive into Burlington and pay to park near Church Street.

“Look at all the shopping! And the lake! Who knew there was such a populated area?” You laugh.

“Well, UVM is like right over there.” He nudges you.

“Shut up.” You nudge him back.

You both do a little shopping before finding a nice vegetarian place to eat at. After dinner you head down to walk along the peer near the lake.

“I can’t wait to see Buster tomorrow, Harry.”

“Me too, baby.” He holds your hand as you walk.

“Do you think he’ll like us?”

“Of course!” He laughs. “We’ll be the best parents ever.”

You drive back to the hotel and you both get settled in for the night. You both do your nightly routines and get into bed. You face each other, limbs getting tangled in each other. Harry’s leg slides between yours, and he cups your cheeks in his hand. He pulls your face closer to his and your lips connect. You grind slightly against his lig, and he pushes it against you harder. A small moan leaves your lips. You tug at his shoulder to pull him on top of you.

He runs his fingers over your folds and fingers you for a bit to get you ready for him. You wrap your legs around him as he enters you and he kisses you. He buries his head in your neck while he rocks in and out of you. You grab one of his hands you lace your fingers together.

“Harry.” You moan. “Feels so good.” You look up at him and he’s already looking down at you. You kiss each other, and you pull him closer with your legs.

“Y/N.” He moans into your ear. “Love you so much.”

“I, ngh, love you too.”

He rocks in and out of your faster, and then with a sharp thrust, he gets in really deep and stays there. You grind against him as your tongue finds his.

“Oh my god, shit, shit, shit, Harry!” You release around his cock. You squeeze his hand tightly.

He picks up the pace again, chasing his own high. He pants and groans, and with another moan of your name he comes inside of you. He collapses next to you. You both kiss again, not leaving anytime to your breaths. He bites your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth.

“I’m getting hard again.” He says against your lips.

“Want me to suck on it?”

“Please.”

He lays on his back and you get between his legs. Sure enough he was hard again. You don’t waste anytime getting your mouth on him.

“Fuck.” He groans. He thrusts up and you take him deeper down your throat. You swallow against him and cradle his balls. He grips at your hair and you start bobbing up and down him. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

You give him a thumbs up as you keep your mouth on him. His come shoots into your mouth, and you take all of it. You come off him and swallow.

“Thank you.” He says, out of breath.

“Mm, my pleasure.”

You get up, use the toilet, and rinse your mouth out. You crawl back into bed, and he wraps himself around you. He kisses the back of your neck a few times before completely settling in.

The next morning you both get everything together, and head out to where Harry’s friend lives. It was only about thirty minutes later.

“Adam!” Harry says when he sees his friend coming out to greet him. “Hey, mate!”

“Harry!” The hug each other. “It’s been ages!” Another Brit, how interesting.

“Adam, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Hey, greet to meet yeh!”

“Same to you.” You shake his hand.

“Pup’s in the barn, follow me.”

You take Harry’s hand and follow Adam around to the barn. You hang back while he goes over to the pen they’re in.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks.

“I don’t want to watch him take him away from his mumma.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

Adam comes over cradling the puppy, and you burst into tears when he hands Buster to you. Harry and Adam look at each other and then look at you.

“He’s so beautiful, thank you.” The puppy yips, gives you a lick on the chin, and nestles into your arms. “Harry, he’s so cute.” You say through tears and a high pitched voice. “Here, you take him.”

He smiles and takes him from you. He holds him up in the air at first and then cradles him.

“He’s perfect.”

After chatting with Adam a bit longer, you take Buster out to the car. You had a car-seat for him, but you decide to hold him instead. You just didn’t wanna let him go. Harry would occasionally reach over and scratch his little head. He slept for most of the ride. You stopped a couple of times to give him some water and let him pee.

When you finally get home you let him scamper and sniff around. When it looks like he’s about to pee you pick him up and put him on a piddle pad.

“It’ll be easy enough to let him out for a wee, can just bring him to the balcony.”

“What and have our plants and new furniture smell like piss? No, no, we’ll be taking him out. The piddle pads will work for now. We’ll have to take him out every hour so he gets used to it. C’mon baby, are you hungry?”

“Actually, yeah, I a-“

“Harry, I was talking to Buster.” You shake your head at him and laugh. You whistle to Buster and he follows you. You scoop out some dog food and put it into his bowl. You stick your fingers into the dry food while he eats.

“What are you doin’?”

“I read about this. It helps the dog know not to bite you if you feed it treats and stuff. It needs to know it shouldn’t be rough with you.” Buster eats what he wants and then laps at his water bowl. “He’s just so tiny, I can’t get over it.” You pat the top of his head. “Okay, in like fifteen minutes we should take him out. I’m working from home tomorrow so I can help house train him.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles. “So…can we eat dinner then/”

“Sure, if you feel like whipping something up. I’ll have to take him to get registered with the city tomorrow. I’ll call the vet too to set up a check up like Adam said.”

“Thank you.” He kisses you and goes into the kitchen. Buster follows him in and so do you.

You take buster out to do his business every hour like you said. You ring a little bell each time you take him out too. Eventually the three of you get snuggled up on the couch together.

“Oh, let’s take a selfie, then all our friends can help welcome him.” You take your phone out and sit between Harry’s legs, facing away from him. You hold Buster up to your chest so you can get him in the picture. Harry kisses your temple right as you snap the shot. “God, I’m gonna cry again.”

“I couldn’t believe how emotional you got, usually I’m the mess.”

“I know!” The dog huffs. “Sorry baby, mumma didn’t mean to be so loud.” You coo as you strokes his hair.

Harry was so at peace. Hearing yourself refer to yourself as mumma thrilled him. When it was time for sleep, you put Buster inside his crate with his cozy bed. You stuck the crate in the hall outside your bedroom. You didn’t want to put it in the bedroom since he would wanna get on the bed with you. You start getting teary eyed when you get into bed.

“What is it, love?”

“I just feel bad leaving him out there all alone, I don’t want him to wake up scared.”

“Do you want to bring him in here with us?”

“No, we need to be stern about this. He needs to know our bed is for us, and his bed is for him. I’ll be okay.” You wipe your eyes.

“C’mere.” You lay your head on his chest and sigh.

Luckily, Buster didn’t make much of a peep throughout the night, and you and Harry were able to sleep just fine. Your little life with Harry was growing, and you couldn’t be happier. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the responsibility of having a dog, but somehow you ended up being a natural, and Harry took note right away.

#harry styles #Take it Slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fic #IM SO SOFT OMFG #i love them so much #come hang in my ask box #i have tissues to pass out

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sanchoyo · 3 years

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danny phantom, season 3, episodes 7-13 thoughts! cannot believe im finishing this series so fast. ...cannot believe it ended like that...uh. one of the weirdest finales to a show I think I've seen, it really stood out against the rest of the series, and not in a good way, in my opinion. I paused to yell in caps lock...several times, I think, out of anger... BUT. ANYWAY, HERE WE GO.

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-the fentons putting the kids to Work in the lab, with NO SAFETY GEAR. AT ALL. THEY JUST GOT BACK FROM SCHOOL AND ARE TIRED!!! and when jack asked how danny his day was and danny tried to say it was bad jack cut him off :( for the 400th time, i am stealing these kids.

-maddie and jack IMMEDIATELY SELLING THEIR LAB AND WORK FOR A LOT OF MONEY. and danny cant get into the portal anymore, oh no!!! he could always just steal vlads I Guess.

-THEY ARE VLADS NEW NEIGHBOR. OH MY GOD. this is a sitcom format. a butler came with the new mansion. i would absolutely try a kiwi fudge milkshake, why is the butler disgusted.

-the..guys in white bought the lab to shoot a missile. into the ghost zone thru the portal. bro i hate these guys

-jazz straight up setting her new bedroom up in the library. i am very very jealous

-"RATED E, FOR ENTRAILS"

-I like how the 14 year olds very quickly realize if the giw destroy the ghost zone itll destroy OUR ZONE because its just. like. the other side of the quarter so to speak. and the giw, a fully funded government agency, didnt consider that...(or worse, are willing to risk that anyway...)

-a...graphic novel version of the constitution? what in the world have you been READING SAM

-'cool, I always wanted to be called a meddling kid!' scooby doo reference...

-can they keep the butler. I love him.

-ecto latte....I also want to try that. is ectoplasm edible...

-YESS I KNEW DANNY WOULD USE VLAD'S PORTAL. vindicated.

-DANNY WHY DIDNT YOU JUST ASK JOHNNY NICELY. STEALING HIS BIKE IS SO SO RUDE.

-youngblood is also into astronaut stuff, thats really cute. and him being like 'phantom, dude!! :D' ALL EXCITED. THATS ADORABLE.

-the slapstick comedy of the giw slipping and falling and running into shit in the lab. is funny, but also, because this lab has NOOO safety codes in practice. god its a wonder dannys the only one to have died here...

-JOHNNY, SKULKER AND YOUNGBLOOD HELPING DANNY!!! I keep saying it but the other ghosts helping him. is my fav thing in the world. and, it's a really good thing the missile in the real world was harmless...otherwise the fentons wouldn't have had a home/lab to come back to...

-WULF WANTED POSTER!!! we havent seen wulfy in so long :( very funny the box ghost is offended by how much these ghosts are wanted for. first off, what do ghosts even DO WITH MONEY. does the ghost zone have its own currency??? what are ghosts BUYING

-the box ghost is So Funny, im so glad hes still got his bubble wrap. u are VERY wanted in THIS house box ghost. you are SO scary king. dont give up on ur dreams

-this needs to be a meme format. I made a transparent version, very very messily, for future use.

-this is a Fellow and a Friend

-box ghost accidentally bringing lunch for everyone, and giving people at the mall free shoes. SHOES ARE SO EXPENSIVE, ID BE SO GRATEFUL. helpful king. i feel SO bad for him lmao, he's putting in SO much effort. he wants the evil aesthetic So bad but hes Just Too Silly. I understand your plight, box ghost....

-oh my god. pandoras BOX. 'THOSE OF US IN THE BOX TRADE' HOW MANY ARE IN THIS BOX TRADE. I WANT IN. pandora is a multi-armed ghost goddess and i love her.

-SKULKER WHY ARE YOU RUNNING FROM THE EVIL UNICORN?? YOURE A HUNTER!! JUST SHOOT IT!!!!!!! JUST HUNT IT!!!

-box ghost...where did you get the cowboy hat. I respect it, i just want to know

-JAZZ COMING IN WITH THE BAZOOKA TO FIGHT THE 10 HEADED DRAGON!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!! and the rest of the fentons I Guess

-ignoring the sam/danny moments. I simple do not see them.

-...why doesnt danny just fly over the maze. or do the whole 'real world people act as ghosts in the ghost zone' and turn back!!! I know its just to show off the ghost greek monster designs. but STILL.

-danny being like. um. hi pandora. i found your box. >< polite...PANDORA IS SO GIANT. GIANT GHOST WOMAN. SHES GOING TO BEAT BOX GHOSTS ASS. another ghost thats nice to danny to add to the list :) and HER FORCING BOX GHOST TO APOLOGIZE. and having sandwiches with danny after making box ghost clean up. I LOVE HER.

-DANNYS 'BEWARE' AT THE END JAKHDJFKN

-okay, when dash pulled out danny's seat and was calling him buddy, for half a second I was like 'this is a prank, hes gonna pull it back' BUT THEN FRIGHT KNIGHT MY BELOVED IS BACK. AND EVERYONE STARTS CHANTING FOR DANNY TO BEAT HIS ASS WITH GHOST POWERS AND DANNY DOES WAY TOO EASILY, and im like, yup, this is a dream LMAO

-danny is getting an A+ in science :) my smart son

-DANNY WAKING UP FROM THE DREAM RIGHT BEFORE KISSING SAM AND BEING LIKE 'that was a dream...no, a NIGHTMARE!' same. not to be a hater but, shouldve been val. maybe I am a hater

-...danny running and checking the 'tapes'...why is his whole house constantly being recorded. hes been in ghost form/fights plenty of times in his house. does he have to run and wipe the tapes after?? every single time?? god

-letting this image speak for itself

-this is SO cursed

-NOCTURN'S DESIGN FUCKS SO HARD. the Venice mask vibes. also his space pattern not moving while the rest of his animation does is big chowder vibes. but this guy is basically the sandman but Evil, huh. I love dream plots. also, nocturn's design feels very similar to clockwork, like, red eyes and a scar over the same eye, but also just the purple, and the Cosmic Vibes. I want to see them fight. anyway nocturn's va was also avatar roku AND alfred in several batman cartoons.

-the 'sleepwalkers' designs were super cute in shape (kinda remind me of oogie boogie! pillow-cased shaped, which is appropriate for the 'king of dreams's minions) until I looked closer at their eyes. why do they look sewn shut!! (they open their eyes a few times, so they aren't, but they look like it...)

-I like how this show has been pretty consistent (with a few exceptions) about a Ghost Being Huge (or getting larger) = Very Powerful

-2 months of summer camping??? wtf, do camping things usually take that long?? I've never been to a camping...thing like that. but isnt that basically their entire summer??

-'the entirety of nature is your bathroom!' and thats why I do no camping despite loving nature LMAO.

-sam, at least TRY TO BE NICE TO THE OTHER GIRLS YOU'RE GOING TO BE SHARING A CABIN WITH. also, the amount of times people in this show have their SHOES ON THE BED!!! IM DISGUSTED

-swamp creature Is A Ghost. Big Foot is a Ghost. starting to think in this universe, every single cryptid or legend is a Ghost Actually

-paulina crying not only because star is missing, but because SHE FORGOT HER SUNBLOCK AND SHE BURNS SO EASILY!!!! okay girlfriends

-ghost cops are the real monsters at the camp. i.......I mean. fair. no one missed you walker

-WULF!!!!!!!!!!! WULF IS BACK!!!!!!!! MY FRIEND WULF :D MI AMAS VIN!!!!! kaj danny lernis Esperanto :)

-'relax kid, we arent here to do any harm' *immediately shoots danny* yeah. ghost cops. and also danny bringing walker 'wulf' and walker IMMEDIATELY SUCKING DANNY IN A THERMOS. FUCK OFF

-haha walker Bald. and haha walker Frozen Now

-the fenton thermos can...reverse its polarity to close portals? okay

-LIBERA MIA AMIKO. :")

-ohhh they end the ep with them star gazing, thats pretty cute...

-dani is back! ...with a new voice actress? wiki says AnnaSophia was in 3 diff movies in 2007 when this aired, so she was probably too busy... (including, bridge to terabithia aka the movie that ripped my heart out that I mentioned in the first ep Dani was in...kinda wanna rewatch it now)

-shes still scared of vlad, who's still being creepy and spying on her. 'shes hardly going to come home to daddy!' I WONDER WHY. also does vlad's cat look more evil than last time? love the concept of him going shopping for cats and being like 'give me your most EVILEST looking cat, please, so I can pet it in my spinny chair dramatically!' ...oh god white cat hair on his black suit. I have a black cat and her hair is still way too noticeable..

-vlad has a big 'valerie' button in his office. can he be pressing that button every episode, thanks

-'theres a GIRL called dani phantom?' yeah valerie. no relation, obviously, even with her looking EXACTLY like danny. so sad valerie just wants to help her dad and her get out of the place theyre in now and vlad using her. ill MAUL HIM

-dani having to STEAL FOOD. :( and valerie immediately being like oh poor kid :(( and trying to help her!!! and then dani immediately helping valerie!! this episode is starting SO well

-...and then valerie catching her. DAMN IT. and being surprised dani knew danny?? HELLO VALERIE I KNOW YOURE SMARTER THAN THIS. I AM SO SORRY THEY WROTE YOU THIS WAY. I STILL LOVE AND BELIEVE IN U !!!

-valerie lying her ASS off for a chance at gettin danny. ok <3 also 'they couldnt catch a ghost if it was living under their own roof' JSDHKJHNK

-danny. why dont you just tell valerie!! this would be so much easier if he was direct. there is NO way valerie would hurt danny (fenton) she'd be HORRIFIED. esp since she got on board helping dani!!

*is held* :)

-look at valerie and danny. flying together. about to go beat vlads ass together <333

-DANI SCREAMING AS VLAD IS MELTING HER. WHAT THE FUCCCK

-...fucking vlad convincing valerie hes a good dude with his stupid duplication. FUCK. DANNY JUST TELL H E R

-jesus christ how many times has danny had to watch loved ones die. even if she didnt stay perma-dead. glad they fixed her...

-valerie and dani pranking danny when he came out, oh :( cute...them havin fun and laughing together...babies

-BUT THEYRE JUST LETTING DANI LEAVE, AGAIN??? SHE WAS PREVIOUSLY STEALING FOOD. CHRIST GIVE HER A PLACE TO LIVE. OR A FAMILY. actually, I think it'd be really cute if, since danny isnt ready to out himself, dani went and lived with valerie?? dunno if her dad would have the money but,, it'd be a cute concept. big sis valerie...

-'tomorrow, it's game on!' 'and ill be ready to play!' THE FLIRTING....DANNY/VALERIE REAL

-oh my god,, valerie found out about vlad in the end. But he doesn’t know she knows!!! the DRAMA!!! HOLY SHIT THAT ENDING.

-this episode was. SO Much and probably one of my favorites out of s3. (I mean, there has been a gross lack of valerie this whole season, so thats not a hard choice to make...)

-FINALE EPISODE TIME.

-the title screen looks different! so no title card...

-vlad has his own fucked up satellite that looks like him?? okay. why does the animation look so different?? are they mixing cg in?? for what. anyway, vlad and the gang in SPACE. danny is 100% living his astronaut dreams rn

-'defeating frostbite' YOU BETTER NOT HAVE. YOU STOLE HIS COOL MAP. FUCK YOU VLAD

-wait oh my god. vlad is the final series boss, isn't he. I half expected a fake out, for another boss to show up midway, and for him to finally have to have a real truce with danny for this ep. ITS THE FINALE. VLAD FEELS SO UNDERWHELMING.

-And it's like-- his character isn't bad, i just feel like..he has more potential! they WANT him to seem like some smart super evil genius, but the way he's written makes that SO hard to believe...but the solid backstory and design is THERE and its FRUSTRATING.

-...DANNY CALLING VLAD OUT SAYING HE NEEDS THERAPY LMAOO THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING.

-my grandpa technus is in the finale too :) 'well look on the bright side, at least im not downloading them illegally!' he says while stealing dvds. feels like hes calling me out. im watching this series on a bootleg website lmao. anyway, him turning the tech into a transformer. love that

-mASters BLASters sTOp diSAsterS shut the fuck up. you will never be valerie or danny. bite chomp kill. violence

-like this if u crie everytiem

-my god the 3d/cgi mixed in looks SO BAD IT DIDNT AGE WELL AT ALL

-the white stripe in dannys hair kinda rules tho. did he just KILL HIS GHOST HALF??? 'revert his human half back to normal' UM. you ever unkill yourself. why are his friends/jazz so mad about it, he'll be in a lot less danger!! christ. they can still hunt ghosts!! as humans!! if they want to!! hes 14 if he wanted to be normal. let him. vlads stupid little team has things COVERED apparently. why are they acting like this. jazz would never act like this. is this fake whats going ON

-oh my god jack was in a college band. vlad was also in the band. what did instruments they play. i didnt need that headline to tell me they sucked, but i want to KNOW MORE REGARDLESS

-valerie was here for 0.3 seconds.

-sam calling danny selfish. the audacity. no one is stopping YOU from hunting ghosts, girl. valerie does it!!

-I'm halfway through the episode and incredibly underwhelmed so far.

-why would they send jack and 3 teens to space to destroy the asteroid. why not professional astronauts. not even the 3 teens that have already been to space this episode...

-jack getting beat up by teenagers. ON TV. IN SPACE. I GUESS. I GUESS EVERYONE AGREED TO SEND JACK BECAUSE..VLAD SAID SO? we know it was to embarrass jack, but why would everyone agree. why didnt any other space program Do More or whatever, they sent like, 3 rockets/missiles tops?? no way

-danny attempting to punch vlad in the face. i WISH HE WOULDVE LANDED THAT HIT.

-vlad outed himself on live tv, on purpose? and BLASTED AT THE TEENAGERS HE HIRED. LMAO. HES HOLDING THE WORLD HOSTAGE, MAKING THEM PAY HIM BILLIONS TO STOP THE STUPID ASTROID. THATS YOUR GRAND PLAN??? REALLY. REALLY. im like. lmfao

-jack just now, on the last episode GETTING TOLD HE MADE VLAD A GHOST. THIS SHOULDVE HAPPENED WAY SOONER. jack's reaction was one of the only times in this entire show hes seemed human. 'an old friend? no. you? yes.' GET HIS ASSSS ACTUALLY. HE STRAIGHT UP LEFT VLAD IN SPACE. GOD DAMN. that is a Murder! I mean, I guess vlad could fly back to earth, but...I mean, he'll have to, right? no food in space. (that we KNOW of...)

-'thE WHolE EArtH, INTangiBLe?!' oh my god.

-...the white strand of hair somehow still had ghost dna, I guess, and getting blasted turned him back into phantom. I GUESS. I GUESS.

-the fentons being the first to clap for danny despite not knowing hes phantom...that was sweet. and very sudden character development, not at all gradual over the course of time or episodes like it probably should have been...

-sam and danny kissing. IT SHOULDVE BEEN VALERIE, BUT OKAY, I GUESS. also, its a little underwhelming, considering theyve kissed already...

-ALL of the ghosts being ready to beat danny's ass? really. no they wouldn't, they've worked together before, and some of those ghosts are friendly!! cringe. why is the last ep written like this. I mean they came thru at the last minute but. was really cringing for a minute there, why did they write it like that

-valerie is there for another 0.3 seconds! ....she should've been more involved. dani is also there! for also like 0.3 seconds. almost fast enough to miss. (btw, I think shes still homeless at this point, are, we going to...do ANYTHING ABOUT THAT IN THE LAST 5 MINS OF THE SHOW)

-the cgi smoke or whatever it is. this whole post is me saying the cgi is bad, but IT IS.

-'danny or should we say. DAAANNNNY.' this is like the 3rd or 4th time hes been outed damn, but to the whole world, again. and valerie saw, and is just. an extra in the bg clapping. bro im so mad.

-TUCKER IS THE NEW MAYOR? WHAT THE FUCK?? HES 14.

-i think. this is still linked to the dream ep a few times ago. hes still dreaming. this is a plot a 14 year old would write. this feels like a bad fanfic. so much got rushed, and not tied up. vlad wasnt really even the villain this episode, a fucking. non-being asteroid was.

-they kiss again. ok. sure. whatever at this point.

-VLAD IS NOW A FREE-ROAMING SPACE NOMAD. I GUESS. THATS. SURE. WHATEVER. THE END, I GUESS. cannot believe I'm saying this, but: they did vlad dirty.

-IF YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE HIM A VILLAIN, MAKE HIM A VILLAIN!!! DON'T MAKE IT A METEOR!!! STOP BEING WISHY WASHY WHO WANTS TO SEE DANNY VS ASTEROID!!! I didnt even WANT vlad to be the final villain because his character is SO back and forth (esp this season.) but he has done some FUCKED UP SHIT AND I WANTED THE WRITERS TO DOUBLE DOWN, PERSONALLY, IF THEY HAD TO MAKE HIM THE FINAL BOSS. the cabin ep where he basically held danny and maddie hostage? FUCKED. THE DANI THING? FUCKED. FUCKING COMMIT AND MAKE HIM ACTUALLY SCARY OR HAVE HIM FUCK OFF AND AGREE TO A TRUCE!! WHAT IS THIS DYING IN SPACE NONSENSE. (and, he will (fully) die out there, right? still half human, still needs food and water. I imagine he'll like, slowly half-die but this time his human side is dying. will he come back 100% ghost? we dONT KNOW. WE DONT GET TO SEE, ITS PLAYED LIKE SOME FUNNY THING AT THE END, THEN THATS IT!!! WHAT!!!)

-I don't know how to articulate how FRUSTRATING THAT IS. having him basically out himself and ''hold the world hostage'' does not track at all in my brain. like. he's always been scary because he is HUMAN, TOO. like, if he was 100% ghost, he'd be LESS scary, but vlad MASTERS has more power and influence than vlad PLASMIUS because of his position as mayor, his money, too, and his (supposed, s3 made me doubt it) intelligence/manipulation skills, and his being in good graces with jack made it HARD FOR DANNY. him outing himself for,, money and to 'control the world' i guess?? MONEY WAS NEVER HIS LIKE, MAIN GOAL. yeah obv he likes money and is materialistic and values his Rich Life, but hes got billions, the end goal? 1. getting maddie (and or danny as his son, but to me he always treated that as secondary) 2. ruining jack. this feels like they wanted to say 'oh he just wants POWER' which is. HMM?? OKAY?? obv he /does/ want power (usually over certain ppl, tho), but seeing him try to get it like this FELT WEIRD SOMEHOW. weird like the ep where he tried and failed to take over various historical civilizations, because like,, how is that realistically going to do anything for him?? just, being in that time forever and never seeing maddie aka Goal #1 again?? HELLO??? this was like that, but worse

-this was such a weird ending to an entire show. why did season 3 only have 13 episodes?? why did it feel so weirdly paced?? WHY WAS THE ENDING LIKE THAT. I think. I am going to pretend I did not see that. fucked up, dudes. I'm like...hm. I shouldn't have watched that because now I'm mad. valerie sweetie im SO sorry you shouldve been more present. it felt like..if they knew this season was going to be short, and the last season, they should've spent more time wrapping up EVERYONE'S plot lines for the entire season. imagine how cool it wouldve been if every single ep of season 3 was working towards something, a big, nice wrap up at the end, with nothing feeling TOO rushed because they'd been heading towards the End for the whole season....

I will probably end up writing a follow up full series thoughts post. In a couple of days so I can sit with my thoughts. BUT. overall, I really liked the show! (ignoring the finale and some of the moments that aged pretty poorly...) it was charming and a fun concept and very fun to watch in general :) and I am pretending the finale didnt happen <3 and I’m gonna dive RIGHT into the dp tags and mix fanart and posts in my queue, very excited to run and look at that 🏃🏻 (and, of course, make more fanart myself hehe >:3)

#dp thoughts #danny phantom #sanchoyorambles

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coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe · 3 years

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Coffee and Blood or Coffee with André, Bleeding with Piper

Quick Tag List: @kuruumiya @spacelizardtrashboys @enigmaticandunstable @nattinngrst @amyofaquitaine

This passage contains potentially: drinking (recreational), sexual 'jokes', swearing, violence.

Summary: In this 'chapter' Kirby hangs out with both André and Piper, sharing drinks with the giant and sparring with the Scotsman. We also get more of an introduction to the rest of the Daughters of Darkness and Damien.

Kirby’s POV:

I woke up earlier than expected on the following Thursday, around four-forty-five in the morning, before sunrise. I decided to get a head start on my usual morning routine, brushing my teeth, showering, washing my long blonde hair and brushing it whilst drying it with a hairdryer.

I have decided that the moment I get enough money, or the moment it gets too unmanageable, I will cut my hair and possibly dye it. I remember back when I was a teenager I had dyed my hair all sorts of crazy colours. When I won the tag tag titles back as a part of the Celtic Warriors, my hair was a dark green, in contrast to Erik's (My tag partner's) ginger locks.

I managed to find a black shirt and some sepia hued trousers in the mess that was my suitcase, having let Holly borrow my old graphic band tees a couple days ago meant that she had rearranged my stuff in a way that no human would think possible. By the time I had gotten dressed the hotel landline next to the bed started ringing, hesitant at first, I decided to pick it up.

"Hello, Mademoiselle Lucifarian?"

"André?"

"Oui, uh, I was wondering if you would like to get breakfast together, around six?"

"Oh, uh, Oui, I would love that, where should I meet you?"

"The hotel lobby, the sooner the better, people are staring at me."

André hung up the phone and, after putting my hair up into a ponytail and a watch on my wrist, I headed down to the hotel lobby, the ideas of where André could possibly take me ranging from quaint cafe's to any bar or pub that would be open this early.

By the time I got down to the lobby I could see a small crowd around my fellow giant. He waved me over and said his goodbyes to the gaggle of fans and we left.

Somehow, in the middle of New York, André had managed to find a quaint little café. We found a small table at the back and got to talking, and eating. I had taken my mask off and placed it beside the small sugar bowl on the table. André ordered our food and then starts the conversation.

"So, uh what did you do before you came to America?"

"Oh, I wrestled in a tag team while in England."

"What did you do before wrestling?"

"I can't remember much, I think just school. Kid stuff. You?"

"I wrestled in France under many names. Before that, I was schooled until I was fourteen."

"You left school at fourteen?" I took a sip of the coffee he had chosen for me, tasting a hint of whiskey and cocking an eyebrow at him.

He smiled and nodded, taking a swig from the pint of beer in front of him. André is known for his drinking, although I am also a giant, the fact that he's paying for the two of us to drink so early in the day makes me cautious of how much he drinks, or am I more afraid of how much he'll make me drink. I shake the thoughts from my mind and take a larger sip from the Irish coffee he has blatantly ordered me.

"Drey." I look over at his plates, unlike my one plate, a full English (minus the black pudding) André has a whole side of the table covered in food.

"Drey," good lord, I've already given him a nickname, "Drey, how can you eat all of this? A lesser man would have no chance to get through that."

He puts a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter and our conversation continues for a while until André brings up an uncomfortable subject.

"Why do you hide your face?"

I shift in my seat and André's brows furrow slightly with worry. He picks up the mask before I can put it back in it's rightful place, turning it in his hands, examining it in all it's small details.

"I guess it drives up my asking price." It's a bold-faced lie and I know it but it's better than revealing all my insecurities before I even have my first match, or even cut my first promo in the WWF.

André nods solemnly, he can tell I don't want to talk about it any further. He pays for the meal, I put my mask back on and we parted ways. I went back to the hotel, changed into my work out gear, grabbed my gym bag and headed to the nearest gym.

I set myself up at a heavy bag and begin my usual workout after warming up. Punches, knees, kicks. And right when I'm in the middle of my workout I feel a tap on my arm. I whip around and whip my hair into my arm.

"Oh, it's you, Roddy," I try to get my breath back in-between words, upon regaining my breath I continue, "What d'you want?"

"I just wanted to say, you have excellent form." The smug smile on his face tells me everything.

"I'm not in the mood, Roddy, bugger off." I growled at him.

Roddy scowls before continuing the conversation, "Alright missy, those are fightin' words"

"Oh really?" I challenge.

"Really."

We begin walking over to the makeshift ring.

"Really Roddy?"

"Really Gluttony."

Out the back of the gym, open air but clean of any twigs or bugs, simple but sturdy. The Squared Circle.

Piper gets in the same way as last time we sparred as do I. I get a quick glance at Piper's reaction, his eyes widen slightly, he's still surprised by me jumping over the ropes.

"You must have a thing for proving your agility, Gluttony," He stops momentarily and it's as if I can see the cogs turning in his mind, "What is your name?" He finally says after a minute of silence.

"I'm Kirby Lucifarian," a white lie but technically whilst in the ring my surname becomes 'Lucifarian' and no longer am I a 'Trevor', "Most people know me as Gluttony, however."

"Even with that mask on?"

It's honestly a good question but I don't want him knowing every little detail of my gimmick.

"Even with the mask on."

"Really?"

At this point he's taunting me and so I put my fists up to start the sparring session, "Really really."

During the sparring session he questioned me on my work with the WWF.

"When's your first match?"

"Saturday, West Milford, New Jersey, Why d'you ask?"

"Can I watch?" He smirks before trying to Irish whip me into the corner and failing.

I stop, making myself a dead weight in the middle of the ring, "What!?"

Rod takes a couple step backwards, I follow him, backing him into the corner of the ring.

"What did you just ask me, Piper?"

He puts his hands up over his head, "Hey, I'm just messin' with ya."

"No, no no no, what'd ya jus' ask me? Ya dafty, what'd ya jus' ask me?"

Now fully backed into the turnbuckle, Rod puts his hands on my shoulders to keep me out of his face, "I only asked if I can watch you wrestle."

Upon hearing a lack of fear in his voice, I cock an eyebrow, confused and take a step back.

Upon realising that he's stunned me, Roddy takes his chance and punches me in the gut.

I double over, winded but not too hurt.

When Roddy gets close enough I hit him with the Vampire's Bite.

He falls back, slamming his back into the mat.

I get up and check him, unknowingly letting him kick me in the groin, hard.

"Ya hit," I heave, "A little low, Roddy."

He lets out a laugh and reaches out a hand.

I help him up and he pulls me into a hug, "I'm sorry about that, ya dafty."

I glare at him and he lets out another laugh, I fail to keep my composure and laugh with him. I look over at the building, a clock on the outside wall reads four-thirty, pm.

"Another time, Roddy?"

"Ya gotta go somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm supposed to meet Damien and the girls for dinner at five." I point the clock out to him.

He looks at the clock and once again I see the cogs turning in his mind, "Maybe the clock's wrong."

I laugh and he shrugs.

"Ya never know, d'ya. Kirby?"

"Yes, Roddy?"

"Ya never said if I can watch ya wrestle on Saturday."

I give him a glare before sighing out a "Sure, Roddy."

He smirks, his dumb face making me want to punch him in the mouth."

I slip on the wet grass, getting out of the ring and fall over onto a jagged rock, splitting open the palm of my left hand and the my right shin. I yelp out a quick 'shit' and Rod rushes over to me, helping me up.

He grabs my stuff whilst I clean myself up in a nearby bathroom. When I get out of the bathroom, Rod walks over to me with a roll of gauze.

"C'mere," He grabs my wrist and wraps the gauze around my hand, wrapping the bandage around two or three times before cutting the gauze and tying it off and moving to wrap the gauze around my leg.

He rolls up the right leg of my leggings and I give him a look of 'Do you really have to do that' and as if he can read my mind he mutters out a small 'shut up' and continues to bandage my leg.

Piper gives me my gym bag and lets me walk back to the hotel. I reach the hotel with a slight limp from the pain now coursing through my leg every time I take a step or put my weight on the leg.

I take the elevator and reach my room, hearing Sam's voice already in the room, "God, she's got a spare key, hasn't she." I whisper to myself before opening the door.

Sam, already dressed in a suit, springs off the bed and runs to hug me.

"Hey, Fireball."

"Hey, Tall-ass."

Sam lets me go before noticing the bandages.

"What happened?" Her voice instantly turning from 'Cute Little Sister' to 'Italian Mafioso Interrogator' in an instant.

"Me and Piper were sparring, I slipped when gettin' out of the ring, why?"

Her eyebrows raise and I can immediately tell what she's thinking.

"You were, 'Sparring'?"

"Not like that, Sammie, actually sparring, he kicked me in the groin, we weren't 'Sparring' like Billie does, alright?"

"Alright," she looks down at her wrist watch, moving her leather glove to do so, "We've got three minutes."

Putting the final flourishes of my suit, which matches Sam's, into place, "Let's go then, Sammie."

We leave the hotel, Sam helping me lessen the weight on my leg and head to what we both would call 'The Fanciest restaurant in New York'.

The table Damien has reserved for us, under the 'Lucifarian' name, is bigger than expected.

"It's as if Damien's expecting more than just the eight of us." Billie points out, smoothing out her short, midnight blue dress.

"Good evening ladies." Damien brings Sam, Billie and myself over to our seats.

As per usual, I am at the opposite end of the table to Damien, he always keeps an eye on me but keeps me at arm's length.

"How did you get hurt, Kirby?" Damien brings up the injuries I sustained earlier yet again.

"I fell over earlier while at the gym."

I don't want Damien knowing about me and Piper sparring, he'll admonish me for hanging around Piper without him there. He looks at me with a slight suspicion in his eyes.

I order a glass of Rosé wine and a bowl of French Onion Soup.

"So, Sam's said you've been 'Sparring' with somebody." Holly asks.

"Actual sparring Hol, not 'Sparring'." I clarify, taking a moment to size up Damien and make sure he doesn't question me further.

When the food finally arrives I shift my focus from Damien to the food. The fact that the last time I ate was this morning finally hits me and just looking at the bowl of soup makes my stomach growl ravenously. Upon hearing this, the rest of the girls struggle to contain their laughter.

"I know, I know." I shrug off the humiliation of my loud-ass stomach and manage to finish my meal and wine before the rest of the table.

After the meal, Damien makes us (except for Vickie) pay for the cheque. We go our separate ways. I go back to the hotel and sit on the edge of the bed, still in my suit.

"Man, I gotta wrestle with injuries now, how's that for a debut." I mutter to myself and shift my focus to getting out of the suit so I can sleep.

I take a long look at myself in the mirror and sigh, before questioning myself, "Why am I so afraid of Damien knowing I sparred with piper?"

And with that question still in my mind, I go to bed and quickly fall asleep.

END OF COFFEE WITH ANDRÉ, BLEEDING WITH PIPER / COFFEE AND BLOOD

#Lucifarians #wrestling fic

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drxwsyni · 4 years

Note

Hi, hello. Guess who's a predictable bitch? If I'm thirsting over any character(s), it's Mic and Aizawa, because my love for them now borders on obsession. They have the highest Yandere potential for me, I mean, c'mon. Mic could probably use his Quirk to paralyze someone with the right frequency and Aizawa can erase your powers and tie you up in his scarf, so even if you are a pro, you ain't gettin' far with them tag teaming you, leaving you completely vulnerable for whatever they want to do -🌹

God people really underestimate how powerful Mic’s quirk is. Like if you try to leave him he could literally just yell to incapacitate you. You might not pass out, but you’ll be dizzy long enough for Shouta to wrap you up in his capture weapon.

Speaking of Shouta, even if he’s alone there literally no way you can get away from him. He’s nimble, fast thinking, and even if you have a quirk that he can’t erase (a physical mutation) he’s still likely to fuck you up big time with how good his combat skills are. Like there’s no point in running from him. You’d be even worse off at night I’d bet, since that’s primarily when he patrols. You’d be at such a steep disadvantage.

I really do believe that erasermic is one of, if not the most terrifying duo to be yanderes. There’s just too much versatility and power in their kit compared to others.

#🌹 anon #bnha gen. ideas

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sunniebelle · 4 years

Text

Surprises In Store

She thought it was a mistake, at first, but it seems destiny is determined to bring Rose and James together.

(tagging @doctorroseprompts)

Ten x Rose AU

Ao3

Rose’s morning had not been going well. Sleeping in was a luxury she was rarely afforded, yet her alarm failing to go off on time had allowed her to indulge an extra fifteen minutes this morning. The rush of adrenaline when she discovered this made it easy for her to beat her record for quickest clothing change and make-up application she could remember, though she chose not to fuss with her hair aside from flipping it upside down and teasing it to give it volume.

And of course, this would naturally be the day for her to realize she’s out of both tea and coffee—though to be fair, there really wasn’t time for either, already needing to run to catch her bus. Scarfing down a piece of toast, she ran out the front door and tore down the stairs, thankful that her job allowed her to wear trainers.

The only thing that kept her from giving up and wanting to return home to hide from the expectations of the day was the fact that she managed to make her bus, though just barely. And there were far fewer people boarded today than normal. She hoped that might allow her to make up some time.

A few minutes later, bright smile lighting her face, she stepped off the bus with still several minutes to spare. If she hurried, she’d have time for a coffee run at the recently opened coffee shop adjacent to Henrick’s. She’d not been in there yet and this morning she could really use the caffeine.

She made her way through the front entrance of Kasterborous Coffee, thankful there was only one person queued before her. Smiling pleasantly at the young woman helping her, Rose made quick work of paying for her coffee and moving to retrieve her drink.

So anxious was she to get to work on time, she turned hastily to exit the coffee shop and ran directly into a solid body, her coffee spilling down her front.

Her momentum bouncing her off the man, as well as the shock of hot coffee drenching her, resulted in her losing her footing slightly. Strong, long fingered hands grasped her biceps in a gentle but firm grip, helping her regain her balance.

Her gasped sputtering and muttered curses were suddenly drowned out by the smooth sounds of an Estuary accented voice talking quickly and apologizing profusely.

Her eyes traveled up the lean figure of the brown pinstriped suited man, all her anger, and any temptation of shouting at him to watch where he was going, suddenly flew from her mind. She was immediately captivated by his handsome face, hair styled in a modern sticky-uppy fashion, and deep brown eyes that looked at her sharply but with genuine concern. He suddenly stopped talking, allowing her brain a moment to restart and no longer focus on his pouty lower lip.

“Miss? You alright?” he asked anxiously, bending slightly to catch her eye and look her over for possible injury (apart from a mild scalding due to hot coffee, anyway).

“Yeah, yeah. ‘M fine, thanks. Just…mind’s a bit scrambled, I guess,” she laughs.

He smiles, words seeming to tumble from his mouth. “Sorry about that. So sorry. I was a mite distracted, but of course, if I’d been paying attention then we wouldn’t be in this predicament, would we?” he asks, pulling on an earlobe. “Then again, if you’d watched where you were going, you might’ve avoided me altogether. Oo, was that rude? That was a bit rude, wasn’t it. Donna’s always gettin’ onto me about that, being rude, that is. Not running into lovely ladies and spilling their coffees on them. She’d probably give me a slap if she saw me now, too.” His jaw suddenly snapped closed, as though the thought of this Donna person giving him a slap was the only thing keeping more words from exiting his mouth.

Watching his face turn a bit pink as he continued to tug on his ear nervously, she wasn’t sure whether to be irritated for being insulted by him, or amused by his rambling and embarrassment. She thought his adorable ‘kicked puppy’ look made up for the insults.

“No, it’s fine, really. No permanent damage. I’m sure a good wash’ll get this right out. And I bet one of my coworkers has a shirt or something I can borrow.”

It suddenly dawned on her that she was likely to be late clocking in unless she left immediately. And her witch of a manager, Cassandra was unlikely to have any pity for her regardless of the circumstances surrounding her tardiness.

“Sorry, gotta run. My boss’ll have my head if ’M late. Um, well… bye, then.” Not giving the man any time to reply, Rose shot out of the coffee shop, throwing away her nearly empty cup on the way. She managed to make it just in time to clock in, roughly thirty seconds from being officially late. Lucky for her, since a reprimanding from Cassandra would have been the icing on the cake to her day that she really didn’t need.

The rest of the day seemed to drag, allowing her mind plenty of free time to wonder about the bloke who was the cause of her wearing a slightly too-small shirt (borrowed from Linda with a y; though her perkiness could at times be annoying, she had turned out to be a good friend). Too many times Rose had to drag her mind back to what she needed to be focused on and away from thinking of her mystery man.

The feel of his long-fingered hands gripping her arms, what it might feel like to run her hands through his great—really great—hair, or to puts a kiss to his tempting, pouty lower lip.

Stop it! God, what was wrong with her?! It was one disastrous meeting and now her mind would not stop thinking about him. She didn’t even know his name!

She’d likely never see him again, which was just as well. She would probably wind up making a fool of herself. He looked too well off to want anything to do with a shopgirl from the estates who never got A-levels. It was time to put all thoughts of the handsome stranger behind her.

Her resolve crumbled many times over the next few days, but slowly she was able to leave all thoughts of Mr. Sticky-Uppy Hair behind.

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

Almost a month to the day of the coffee incident, Rose walked into Kasterborous Coffee. This morning seemed to be going much smoother for her, so far at least. There hadn’t seemed to be any major problems cropping up, and she was really looking forward to enjoying a cup of coffee on a rare day off.

However, she got quite the shock when she finally went to order.

Standing behind the counter was the man she’d bumped into, still looking amazing with his wild hair that defied gravity and brown pinstriped suit that seemed to hug his frame perfectly. His bewildered look quickly gave way to a bright smile and twinkling chocolate-brown eyes. She spared a moment to think that he really had no right to look that gorgeous, it wasn’t fair since he seemed to be able to scramble her thoughts with a single look.

“Hello!” he proclaimed brightly. “Come to get a coffee? Don’t worry, I’m behind the counter today so it’s unlikely I'll drench you with it.”

Laughing with him, she smiled brightly, her brain suddenly working again.

“Yeah, I generally prefer to drink my coffee rather than wear it,” she teased him, smiling with just a hint of her tongue showing. She felt a pleasant jolt when she saw his eyes stare at her mouth.

Seeming to realize what he was doing, he blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, coffee! What kind would you like? Cappuccino? Or maybe a latte? Oh, we have a brilliant espresso that tastes brilliant with caramel or chocolate?”

Rose felt rather bemused for several moments as he threw out possible suggestions of drinks she might like. Before she could say anything though, a red haired woman walked up and smacked him hard on the arm.

“Oi! What was that for?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm, managing to look simultaneously offended and a bit scared.

“To get you to shut up, Spaceman. If you’d stop blathering away at the poor girl she might be able to tell you what she wants!” The ginger woman's face and voice told of her exasperation, but there was a hint of a mischievous smile peeking through and humor danced in her eyes as she winked at Rose.

He gave Rose a sheepish smile as the woman walked off, muttering under her breath about idiots and outerspace dunces.

“Spaceman?” Rose asked, puzzling over the odd name.

“Oh, that’s one of the many nicknames Donna has for me. Not sure why she calls me that, honestly. Started when we were kids and it seemed to stick, I guess. Anyway, my name’s James Noble.”

She shook the hand he offered, trying to ignore the tingling she felt when they touched. “’M Rose, Rose Tyler.”

“Lovely to meet you Rose Tyler!” She wasn’t sure what to make of the pleasant feeling that flowed though her at hearing him say her name like that, as though he were caressing it.

She nodded and smiled, not trusting her voice. When he asked again for her drink order, after a pointedly cleared throat from a customer behind her, she ordered the first thing she saw on the display, which happened to be a mocha latte. She balked a bit when he wouldn’t let her pay for it, declaring that he owned her one since he caused her to spill hers last time. Feeling a bit flustered, but in a good way, she chose not to argue the point, not wanting to hold up the queue any longer.

When she made to get her drink, she was handed a large cup, a generous helping of whipped cream and chocolate shavings decorating the top. Since business had dramatically picked up, she wasn’t able to talk to James longer than to say goodbye.

Aimlessly strolling the busy walkway, completely forgetting anything else she'd had planned that day, she sipped at her drink and let her mind wander. What were the chances that she had met him again? And working in the shop next door, at that!

Just as Rose was trying to pull her thoughts away from the handsome James Noble, she noticed a flash of color on the cup’s sleeve. There, written in blue ink, was James’ phone number. His…phone number. He had given her—her—his phone number!

A megawatt smile lighting her face, Rose slipped the sleeve off the cup and tucked it into her pocket, before throwing the cup away. Pulling out her phone to look up the hours of operation for Kasterborous Coffee, she headed home, all the while making plans for an important phone call later in the day. Not even realizing she was chewing her cuticle a bit, she ran through possible conversation topics and what she might say, and what he might say back.

Though she wasn’t sure what would happen in the near future, she was certainly excited to find out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Happy Birthday, @creativebec! Hope you have a lovely Birthday, Bec!

#creativebec #doctor who #tenth doctor #rose tyler #ten x rose au #coffee shop au #meet-cute #fluff #donna noble #doctorroseprompts

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direnightshade · 4 years

Text

The Crusade / Chpt. 2

For you, it’s a crusade. For me, it’s a job. Isn’t that what Flip had told Ron nearly a year ago? And now, here he is, his entire world turned on it’s head, smack dab in the middle of a crusade of his own.

A post-BlackKklansman fic in which Flip’s next major assignment is to infiltrate and uncover the inner workings of mob crime that’s moved into the Colorado Springs Area. He’d been ready for the drugs and the danger. What he hadn’t been ready for was you. This can also be found on AO3.

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Mention of drug use Template credit: cashwmere

----------------------------------------------------

The whoosh of a wooden door sounds, alerting the agents to Flip’s arrival. As they turn to face him, he steps into the room that houses approximately six agents, all of whom are dressed in suits and ties. Suddenly, Flip feels under-dressed in his flannel and jeans. “Gentleman,” he says, giving a curt nod, looking no less happy to be here as they are to see him.

“Phillip Zimmerman,” says a voice to his left, causing him to shift his attention towards the source.

Flip nods once his eyes land on the man who’d spoken to him. He’s a whole head shorter than Flip, less stocky too, but in this line of work, you don’t exactly need to have the stature and build that Flip does. He knows the Feds don’t go gettin’ themselves all roughed up. Not like he and the other detectives back in Colorado Springs do. “The one and only,” he jokes, though it falls flat on the entirety of the team in the room. The smile he’d donned after his own remark is wiped clean off in a matter of seconds and he clears his throat, now approaching the man with a hand extended in preparation for a shake. “Phil’s fine. Or Flip.”

“Flip?” This time, the comment comes from one of the men on the other side of the room from him. “What kind’a name is that?”

Exchanging handshakes with the man he’d initially spoken to, he turns to glance over his shoulder at the other. “It’s a nickname.”

God, he hates it here already. Hates the Feds too, but he knew that already. They’re just reinforcing that notion for him.

“That there’s Don,” says the shorter man who’s now letting go of Flip’s hand. “I’m Rob, then y’got Chris, Jason, Michael, and Steven.” As he rattles off each name, the corresponding man gives Flip a wave to which he reciprocates with a nod and a quick ‘hello’, all while attempting to commit to memory the faces of each along with their name.

“Take a seat if you would. We’ve got a lot to dive into and I’d as soon get started now so we can be done and over with by noon,” says Rob, his hand lifting to give Flip a brief pat square at the center of his back.

“Yeah, so we can go get lunch.” This comment comes from Jason, which garners laughter from the other men and nearly makes Flip’s eyes roll. Yeah, he definitely fuckin’ hates the Feds.

Doing as instructed none the less, he makes his way towards an empty seat and sits down, reclining back and making himself comfortable just as Rob positions himself behind the slide projector towards the back of the small room. He reaches for the light switch, plunging the room into darkness for a brief moment before the slide projector’s light comes on, shining directly onto the white wall on the opposite side of the room.

A loud shudder sounds as one of the slides clicks into place, the white space on the wall now replaced by a black and white photo of two smiling men dressed to the nines in suits that he’d guessed cost more than anything he could ever afford.

“Now, we here in Denver already know these two, but considerin’ Flip’s new here, let’s give him a quick recap, shall we? These here are Clyde and Eugene. They’ve been runnin’ their shiesty business outta the family business here in Denver for decades now. Eugene, otherwise known as Checkers,” Rob trails off just long enough to switch to another slide, now showing the younger brother on his own, “likes to play the bad cop. He’s got a nasty reputation for roughin’ up anyone who haven’t paid their dues. He’s also the one with ties to the mafiosos down in Pueblo, and he’s the one that’s got the business movin’ into Colorado Springs.” Another shudder sounds, the slide changing yet again to show Clyde’s face. “Clyde here’s the polar opposite. Total gentleman by all accounts.”

One of the agents nearby scoffs at that, and Flip tears his gaze away from the photo to bring his attention to Michael, who’s quick to cover up the sound with a cough.

“As I was saying,” says Rob, eyeing Michael with annoyance before bringing his attention back to the photo of Clyde just as Flip does the same. “Clyde’s got a real reputation for being Mr. Nice. Guy can make friends with everyone and everything under the sun.”

“Which means he’s got politicians, police, and other influentials on his roster.” Jason’s speaking up this time, and when Flip looks over at him, he finds that he’s already got his eyes on him. “And that means you gotta be even more careful who you’re fuckin’ talkin’ to once we start this mission,” says Jason.

Flip nods. “Yeah, okay. I got it.” He knows the drill. He’s been down roads like this plenty of times before, most recently with the Klan. He knows better than to go running his mouth, but when Jason’s gaze doesn’t waver, he realizes that he’s looking for more reassurance from him. “I’m not going to say shit to anyone.”

Satisfied, Rob delves into more background, detailing the various crimes that the Smaldones and their accomplices are deep into. It’d been just as Trapp had said before his trip up to Denver: racketeering, drugs, gambling, loansharking, and of course, extortion.

By the time that the debriefing is over and done with, Flip’s stomach is grumbling and the agents are already squabbling amongst themselves, trying to figure out where they’re going to be eating. “You’re welcome to join us,” Rob says, cutting into Flip’s thoughts.

Shaking his head, Flip lifts a hand to wave off the suggestion. “I appreciate it, but I’m going to have to pass. Got to head back to Colorado Springs.”

Rob shrugs and utters a ‘suit yourself’ before following up the statement with another. “Meet me back up here first thing tomorrow morning. Now that you’re debriefed, we can get a plan of action together and get this ball rolling.”

Giving Rob a nod of acknowledgement, Flip says his goodbyes and makes his way out of the field office to return to his truck. The hour long drive back to Colorado Springs will give him plenty of time to take in all of the information he’s been given. He already knows that tonight will be the last restful sleep he’ll get until this case has been wrapped up.

----------------------------------------------------

Tagging my fellow Flip loving friends!

@gurl-ly, @klauscarolove, @morby, @candycanes19, @thatgirl1782, @ellelaconiwrites, @duty-isnt-always-honour, @lemonypink

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, give me a shout!

#Flip Zimmerman #Flip #Phillip Zimmerman #BlackKklansman #Flip Zimmerman x Reader #Flip x Reader #Phillip Zimmerman x Reader #Mob AU #Mafia AU #The Crusade #direnightshade

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kissmyafropuff · 4 years

Text

Shooting Star (3)

Hello Beloveds!

Now, before anyone else calls me out, I’ll admit it myself that I’ve been slacking. It’s been way too fucking long since I posted chapters 1 & 2– my bad. 😬 Just love me, okay? A bitch is out here living a whole ass life.

If you don’t want to be tagged, let me know. If you do want to be tagged, let me know.

Here it is y’all, Chapter 3.

Author’s Note: I am very new to this, so be kind to me.

Warnings: Idk what goes here? Swearing? Use of the n word is inevitable.

Words: ~ 1.8K

Enjoy my loves xo 🖤✨

Chapter 2

The air was thick. Almost opaque with the fear and anger; frustration and impotence rolling off of Erik and all around those nearest him. Why had her eyes zeroed in on his daughter, and why had the trio taken a collective glance at each other? Erik tried to shift Aurora away from the thieves' sightline, but they’d locked in. They had seen her necklace, and it was apparent to all around them that this was what they were really after.

Zora attempted to break their laser-like focus on the child, “Look. The alarm has an auto trip function. Anything or anyone so much as cracks that glass above and it alerts the local police and SWAT. You’ve got 3 more minutes tops before--”

“You shut her up, or I will.” Tatania never took her eyes off of Aurora’s necklace, but calmly and swiftly silenced Zora with a delicate yet deadly looking blade which just seemed to appear in her hand. She twirled it-- gracefully, almost majestically, but no less menacingly.

Puck went to Zora quickly and shook his head at her, revealing some of the short and gruesome cuts all over his neck and upper torso, just below his collar bones, trying to do for her what no one seemed to have done for him: shut her before things got worse. The sight of Titania wielding that knife seemed to have relieved him of his incessant chatter.

Nothing in Erik’s life could prepare him for this moment. No amount of time in the SEALs, nor number of deployments to Afghanistan could have prepared him with the tools to quell the fear which had taken root in his belly. The almost palpable tension in the air had him in a cold sweat; perspiration covering his whole body in a matter of moments, causing his black v-neck t-shirt to cling to his torso, his palms slick with the ever growing reality that he is outnumbered and outgunned while this psycho bitch has her focus zeroed in on his babygirl.

“My, my, my. What a beautiful little flower you are, ma petite” Titania practically purred as she made her way across the bank’s lobby. She pulled up just short of the Stevens family.

“Errrrrriiiiiiiiiiik!”

He didn’t need to see Portia’s face to know she was upset with something. He also didn’t need either degree from MIT to know that if he didn’t hurry his narrow ass up those stairs to help her, it would only get worse. He sped up.

“Yea, bae. What’s up?”

“This is all your fault! I hate you for talking me into this, and I swear I’ll never forgive you.”

The morning sickness had been almost non-stop since her first trimester.

“Can I get you some Saltines? Tea? A ginger ale? Anything? Fuck, lemme get you a cool cloth.”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m just being bratty,” Portia said, head still in the bowl, ready to offer up yet another sacrifice to the porcelain gods. She knew that being miserable for the last 7 and a half months wasn’t Erik’s intent when he first brought up trying for a kid. He’d grown up longing for a family for so long, and from what little she’d shared about her own, he knew that her’s wans’t close. Building a family, just the two of them, had been his dream for the first two years of their marriage. When they decided to start trying, Portia didn’t expect them to be so...good… at it. Within the first month of trying, it seemed to have taken, because within the first 6 weeks, she was puking every day.

Loudly. Painfully. Incessantly.

“It’s not bratty behavior when there’s actually something upsetting you.”

“Mon chou, I’m not upset. Your child is just tossing and turning in there, and I’m riding that wave of sea sickness. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve only got literal days at this point. This little butter bean will be here before we know it,” Portia finished weakly, lifting her head and trying to reassure him with a grimace she hoped looked more like a smile.

“Uh, bae. I love you, but you gone stop calling my daughter a fuckin bean.”

“Well, since someone can’t agree with his wife on a name or even agree to find out the sex, it looks like I’m sticking to veggies and fruits. Maybe I’ll just call him Mommy’s Little Kiwi.”

“Aye--”, Erik responded with a deadly look in his eye, “ No daughter of mine is gone be some dumbass Kiwi. If ANYTHING, she’s a pomegranate. She regal as fuck.”

Portia erupted into laughter. It was just the right kind of laugh to help her get out of wallowing from her morning technicolor yawn. Erik helped her to her feet, and she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

“Okay, well, if we can’t agree on a fruit or vegetable, should we move from edibles to something else? We have to call him something.”

“HER name will come to us as soon as we lay eyes on her. How am I supposed to name my daughter before I ever see her?”

Portia tried a different tactic. “Well, it would help us if we just knew what sex we should be expecting, then we could be compiling a list of names to choose from. That way when he, or she -- she interjected quickly-- makes an appearance, we have a short list. Can we at least agree to a short list? We won’t even have to make a decision, we’ll just have a jumping off point today.”

“Fine,” Erik acquiesced. “Let’s start with the boys, it don’t really matter no way,” he said sucking his teeth.

“Excuse me,” Portia questioned, incredulously.

“I’m just sayin, ma. I know you carrying my little Princess. I just know it!”

Portia looked up into her favorite eyes in the world. Their depths fathomless when he was this full of love, and their color reminded her of the vanilla beans her grandmother used when making fresh ice cream when Portia was a young girl. She couldn’t deny him anything when he looked at her like this. If she had the power to snap her fingers and move heaven and earth to give him a daughter in that moment, she’d do it.

“Okay, well just humor me.” Portia asked they dressed to head out of the house.

They came up with a list of three names for a boy: Oscar, Maurice, and Bryan

For the girls, Erik wanted to stick to more of a theme. While he may have fought at the beginning to not even go down this path, now that he was here, he was determined not to walk away from this conversation without landing on his daughter’s name.

“Okay, how about this: she can have one name from each of us.” It was a little hard to hear Portia’s words, coming through muffled since she was presently stuck trying to slip one of Erik’s hoodies over her puffy hair and swollen midsection.

Smart enough to not comment on his wife’s dilemma, Erik just set out to help her finish pulling it down over her belly, and without a word on her current predicament, went to the closet to grab her slides.

“I like it,” Erik agreed. “But which names? I don’t have any family names I want to pull from. The only woman in my life growing up was my moms, and she was gone so soon, I wouldn’t even want to lay all of that on a little one,” Erik quietly confessed to his wife.

“Let’s see. She could have a name from the Xhosa language for her heritage and family on your side. I don’t know what to do for mine.” Portia was almost ready to go, just looking for her favorite hair wrap to tie up her mane.

Erik was quiet for a moment. Heart still grieving a mother and relationship long gone, while still overflowing with love for this swollen, smart mouthed woman that he knew his mom would’ve adored.

“Anathi,” he said before he realized it. “It means ‘they are with us’. Seems pretty fitting, huh?”

Portia’s eyes caught his in the mirror as she tucked the last end of fabric in her wrap. Both sets were bright with tears.

“I love it,” she whispered, words barely audible. “But what are we going to do about a first name?”

“Well, I like that thing your family has going on. All of y’all are named after women in literature, but they also are the names of constellations, right? How about, Juliet?”

“Nigga! I am not naming my daughter after some little precocious child who thought she was in love and wound up offing herself over some knucklehead boy before they even turned 16. Try again.”

“Astrid,” Erik risked, only to be rewarded with a sharp sniff coming from Portia’s direction as she gathered her keys and wallet.

“Aurora!” He exclaimed.

“Pretty sure I’ve never read that name as a leading lady in any story,” Portia countered, her haughty ass attitude slowly slipping away. These mood swings were getting out of hand.

“Fuck. I just couldn’t deal with you gettin any snippier, so I just thought of the most beautiful sight I could think of that made me think of the stars,” he answered, bashfully, putting on his finishing touches, and grabbing his phone, wallet, and keys.

“It’s perfectly, imperfect. Not quite what we set out for, and somehow precisely what we needed. Aurora Anathi Stevens. I love it, mon chou.”

His dimples took over his whole face. “Really? I just wanted her to have a little of both of us in her name. She gets your family’s bougie ass legacy with names, and one of mine as a reminder of all the ancestors who’ve come before us.”

Portia was practically bouncing in place she was so happy. “I love it. Really, really.” She took a heavy, negro spiritual sigh. “I have to call my family and tell them we’ve landed on a name. We don’t talk much, but they at least need to know.”

“How bout this: you call them while I drive. I think we’ve earned a very nice breakfast of your choosing. Naming my daughter is kind of a big fuckin deal and all; let’s celebrate.”

“Oooh! I know just what I want.”

Erik rolled his eyes and mouthed along, “Strawberry pancakes.” It was the same thing Portia had been craving this whole pregnancy. One short stack order of strawberry pancakes with blueberry syrup.

“Aiight now, but don’t be tryna pick off my plate. I’m getting chocolate chip pancakes, and I ain’t sharin’ shit.”

They climbed into his car just as Portia’s family answered her call.

“Hello, Erik.”

That cadence. The subtle lilt of an accent she’s tried through years of practice to discard. Fuck.

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”

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SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”

Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)

“You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.”

- Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)

“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.

“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”

“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.

It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.

“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.

“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.

“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”

“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”

“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”

“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”

“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.

“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”

“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”

“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.

As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.

“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.

“How far are we even going?”

“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.

“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”

“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.

“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.

“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”

“Don’t.”

He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.

“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.

“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.

“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”

“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”

“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”

“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”

“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.

“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”

“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”

“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.

“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”

“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”

“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”

I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.

“How about you and Myles?”

“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.

“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.

“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”

“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.

“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.

“Becks.”

“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.

“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.

“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”

“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”

“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”

Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.

“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.

“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.

If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.

The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.

“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”

“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.

I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.

“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.

“I thought you said no water.”

“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.

Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.

“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.

“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.

“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.

“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”

“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.

I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.

“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.

“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”

“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.

“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.

“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.

“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.

Girl, how dumb are you?

Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.

“Yeah, the eighteenth.”

“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.

“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”

“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”

“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.

“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.

From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.

Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.

“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”

“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.

“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.

“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”

“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”

“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”

“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”

Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.

“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”

“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.

“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.

“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”

“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”

“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.

“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.

“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”

“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”

“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.

“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”

“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”

“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”

“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.

“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”

“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”

“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.

“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”

“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.

“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.

The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.

One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.

“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.

“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.

“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.

“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”

“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”

“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.

“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”

“Time Force, for sure.”

“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.

“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.

“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.

“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.

“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.

“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”

“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.

“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.

“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”

“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”

He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.

“Maybe get something you both like.”

“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.

I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”

“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.

“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”

“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”

“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.

“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”

“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”

“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”

“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”

“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.

He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”

“Same, just necessities.”

“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.

“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”

“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.

“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”

“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.

“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”

“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.

“Good boy.”

He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.

“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”

Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.

“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.

“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”

“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”

“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.

“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.

It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.

As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.

The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.

I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.

“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”

Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”

Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.

“You’re always good with the surprises, aren’t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”

“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”

“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.

“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”

“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”

“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.

“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”

“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”

“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.

“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.

“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”

“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.

“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”

“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”

“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.

We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.

“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.

My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?

I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.

I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.

Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”

His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.

“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.

“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”

Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.

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retro-rezz-the-est · 5 years

Text

The Right Alpha (Drew/Reader/Roman A/B/O smut)

Summary: Just some lovely threesome action with our favorite Samoan and our thicc Scottish bastard (so just pretend that Ro is still on RAW lmao).

Word Count: 6,464 ^^;

Warnings: mentions of a dickbag ex-boyfriend in the beginning, semi-public sex, Drew being a tad bit of a little shit (bc that’s a warning on its own lol), possessiveness, biting/marking, anal and I think that’s it??? Correct me if i’m wrong lmao. Also, this is my first time writing anything AU themed, so feedback is appreciated! :)

(A/N: Here it is, y’all! I’m so sorry this took so long to get out. My brain was just in 1000 different places at once lol. Thank you all so so so so much for 400+ followers, and I can’t tell you all how much I love and appreciate every single last one of you <3. Here’s to 500 and more threesome fic action!)

(Y/n): your name

“Oh, come on!”

“We said no, (Y/n), and that’s final,” Ember chastised you from her seat nearby, her golden irises seeming to flare when the Scot’s name came out of your mouth.

Your eyes went to slits as you turned your head to face her, pulling your leg out from underneath you to let Roman lace up your ring boots. “Well, why don’t you guys like him? He hasn’t done anything to me.”

“Exactly, small fry. He hasn’t,” the Samoan said. “Yet.”

Groaning, you hopped off of the supply crate you sat on and leaned up against the back wall. They never did seem to like seeing anyone get close to you, especially after the whole situation with your asshole of an ex-boyfriend.

You could still hear all of the names he called you, how he kept you away from Ember and Ro for long periods of time, and how he tried to make you wear that fucking collar that read “Omega Bitch” on it…

After that whole fiasco (and after you had to physically pull Ember off of him for cheating on you with some unmated girl he picked up from a bar), they were there to keep you stable and well.

And away from any and all potential partners.

“But, Drew’s different, I think. He seems like a sweet guy.”

The fiery haired woman scoffed, replying, “Yeah, a ‘sweet guy’ who has a record of bagging and shagging Omegas for a quick fuck and then leaving them the very next night for a new score.”

“She’s got a point, (Y/n). Literally everyone on the damn roster knows about his record,” Ro added, coming up to your side and wrapping his arm around your waist. “We just want to protect you after what happened last time.”

“Oh, really? Is that why you always step up to him whenever he gets 10 feet away from me?

Pulling you closer, he rested his chin on top of your head and chuckled, feeling you try to shove him away.

“You know, just because you two are Alphas-”

“And your best friends…”

“-doesn’t mean that you have to shield me from virtually everyone who comes in my path,” you continued, rolling your eyes at her intrusion. “Besides, my true mate is out there somewhere. Are you guys just gonna shield me from them too?”

You felt Roman move away from you just as you saw Ember rise from her own seat.

“Of course not, girl,” she answered, bumping her forehead against yours. “But, it’s just not gonna be him. Believe me, I know these things.”

The three of you shared a laugh and you could feel their unique scents wrap around you. As comforting as it was, you could still feel Roman’s eyes lock onto the back of your head with a strange firmness, almost as if he didn’t want to look away…

“Anyway, you still have to get dressed and prepped for our tag match tonight, Moon, so I suggest you go do that.”

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you turned her around and lightly pushed her in the direction of the women’s locker room, gaining another soft chuckle from her.

“I suppose I have to. Don’t wanna go out to the ring in my sweats,” she commented, letting out a dramatic sigh and walking away.

Placing his forehead to yours, you felt him give you another quick squeeze before letting go. “Kick some Riott Squad ass out there, ya heard?”

“Aye, captain.”

You gave him a mock salute and waved as he too walked off, leaving you alone in the large hallway as echoes of the ongoing Universe bounced off the concrete walls. Pivoting on your heel, you grabbed your leather jacket from the crate behind you and sauntered off, unaware of the large Scotsman’s presence nearby.

A few minutes had passed of you walking over to the stage area to mentally prepare yourself for your match until a whiff of strong whiskey, leather and amber swept itself under your nose.

Oh, fuck me…

“Well, hello there, leannan.” (sweetheart)

You felt the hairs on your arm rise as you slowly turned around to face the large Scot, his feet falling heavily on the ground as he stalked towards you.

“H-Hey there, Drew,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “W-What are you d-doing here?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear ya talkin’ ‘bout me with your two… friends… a little while ago and I saw ya gettin’ a little bit flustered,” he said as he continued to walk towards you with a smirk on your face, your feet propelling your body to move backwards.

This dance continued for a quick moment of silence before your back hit a nearby wall and he placed his hands on said wall to keep you there, trapped and in place for him.

Alone.

“You can feel it too, right, lass? Tell me ya can.”

Oh crap, crap, fuck, you thought as you felt his scent cover you like a warm duvet. You could feel yourself getting lightheaded and you mewled, lolling your head to the side.

A deep rumble shook his chest as he took in the sight of the unbitten nape of your neck. “Ah, so you’re unclaimed as well? I can change that one for ya, gaol.” (love)

His body pressed against yours next to the stage area, taking one hand to hold your head and the other to grip your waist. Leaning down, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and took in heavy whiffs of your own lavender, honey and cherry scent.

Should I tell him? Oh god, if I do then Roman will actually kill him. Especially Ember, your mind ran at a million miles an hour when he brushed his nose against the sensitive spot underneath your chin and you sighed contently.

Drew’s hand on your waist began to drift skyward and held you tighter, as if you were going to drift away if he let go. He chuckled and you felt it even through the layers of your ring gear, and you could slowly feel yourself drifting further and further into his touch…

“McIntyre! You get your grimy paws off her right the fuck now!”

Oh shit.

The two of you quickly departed when Ember roared. Her hair began to glow as brightly as her eyes did in that moment, and you swore you could see her teeth get sharp and her nails grow.

“I am so dead,” you murmured to yourself as she booked it over to the two of you at full speed, nearly colliding with the Scottish man when she stopped.

Going toe-to-toe with him, she growled, “If you ever, ever, ever, put your filthy hands on my friend again, I swear on everything that I’ll rip your balls off.”

She scoffed, stepping back to eye him up and down. “And trying to claim her when she’s clearly not your mate? Now that’s just pathetic, even for you, Drew.”

That’s because he is! you mentally screamed at her as she shoved her hand between the two of you and shoved, pulling you away from the wall.

She tugged you towards the stage area and you willingly went with her, despite all of your nerves and inner thoughts telling you otherwise. “Come on, (Y/n). Our match is just about to go on.”

Glancing back at Drew, you frowned a little, seeing his slightly hurt expression and how Ember’s nails left a slight mark on his chest. You sighed, placing a smile on your face anyways and letting Ember lead you two out as her theme began to play overhead.

Getting the win felt good, but pinning Ruby felt even better.

The adrenaline had your blood pumping and had you energized for exactly the length of time it took for you and Ember to get from the ring and back to backstage before everything just left you feeling almost jet lagged.

Walking back into the large hallway, you locked eyes with a solemn McIntyre standing nearby and apparently, the woman next to you had clearly noticed. She bared her teeth and gnashed them at him, making you flinch and grab her wrist to hold her back.

You sped off, towing the female Alpha behind you and occasionally looked back to catch his eyes but just missing him as his own theme started to play. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, walked through the curtain and oh shit he forgot about him.

Staring daggers at him from inside the ring was a very determined looking Roman Reigns, shoulders squared and all. Drew walked down to the ring eyeing him right back, shucking off his jacket and tossing it into the timekeeper’s area.

He stepped over the ropes and made his slightly shaking hands into fists, feeling his heart race and hearing the bell go off to signal the start of the match. The two of them rushed at each other and grappled for a second, Roman managing to get his head in the crook of his arm.

The match seemed to speed up as Drew was able to corner him against one of the turnbuckles. An odd look that appeared on his face was soon replaced with one of sheer anger when Roman smelled the air around him. Even with the Scot’s hand pressing his face into the ringpost, he still managed to catch a whiff of something familiar…

His Alpha instincts screamed confusion and upset and protect as he felt his eyes dilate. Throwing his elbow into the other man’s chest, he was able to shove him back far enough so he could grip his chin.

“Why do you smell like her, huh?!” he yelled, teeth beginning to extend. “What the hell did you do to her?!”

Confused, Drew thought, Wait, he picked up her scent as well? I thought only true mates cou-

His train of thought was interrupted with an abrupt shove and a rapid clothesline by Roman, making him fall to the ring mat. Standing on shaky legs, he didn’t even see his opponent hit him with his iconic Spear and go for the pin. The match was then over before he could even blink.

The ref raised Roman’s arm in victory before he tore it away in favor of kneeling down to face the fallen Scot. Moving to his ear, he whispered, “Don’t you even think about touching her again, McIntyre. I’m warning you now.”

He got up just as quickly and rolled out of the ring, stalking straight up the ramp and backstage without any hesitation. Roaming the hallways, he finally found his destination and banged on the door.

“(Y/n), open up! We need to talk now!”

“Gimme a second, Ro! I’m almost done packing my stuff!” you threw back, zipping up your duffel bag and hoisting the strap onto your shoulder.

Sitting on a nearby bench, Sasha lifted her head and raised her eyebrows at the Alpha’s insistent door knocking.

“What’s his deal, sis?”

A nervous chuckle suddenly leapt from you as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Well, actually…”

Another loud bang came from the door, startling the hell out of you both. Letting out a breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding in, you shakily made your way to the door and opened it, seeing an angry Roman fresh out of his match.

Sasha slipped in behind you and looked up, seeing how straight-faced he was before letting out an “I’ll see you later, (Y/n)” and leaving the locker room. As the violet haired woman’s figure turned the corner, he gripped your forearm and shoved you back through the door.

Quickly locking it behind him, he turned back to you rather slowly, giving you time to access him. His hands were clenched into fists, a vein was faintly popping out of his neck and his breathing was very rugged.

“Why did Drew smell like you tonight?”

A pin could drop and you would hear it from how quiet the space had gotten, a light hum from the lights above and his own breathing being the only noises heard. “Is there something you want to tell me, (Y/n)?”

You placed your duffel back onto the bench behind you and looked down, folding your hands together. “Well… he may have kinda… cornered me… in the hall before my match?”

“He what?!” Roman roared, making you take a few steps back.

“But, Ember was there to get him away from me and set him in his place… but not before he scented me.”

That seemed to hit him harder than anything as the two of you went quiet again for a heartbeat more. It was enough for his eyes to dilate a lot more and for him to steadily make his way to you.

Just like with Drew, you soon found yourself chest to chest with a hulking Alpha against the wall nearest to you, panting slightly with anticipation as your own eyes grew wide and the Omega in you screamed for him.

Wait, what? you asked your brain, confused as to why he had the same effect on you as Drew did. This has never happened before.

Well, he’s never been this protective over you. Not since…

Your mind shot a blank when you felt his wet hair brush against your skin, igniting metaphorical sparks as he moved his head. He held your biceps in his large hands and just like Drew, he placed his head in the crook of your neck and sighed.

Deciding to savor this moment of privacy yourself, you rested your head on his, feeling him run his jaw up and down your exposed neck. Instantly, you were hit with a wave of him; a feeling of calm and familiar rolled over your body and you smiled.

But this was different. This was something… more…

As the Alpha’s usual coconut, sandalwood and ocean breeze scent filled your lungs, your mind drifted to images and dreams of you two lounging on a beach somewhere in each other’s arms, laughing at nothing while you sip a strawberry daiquiri as the sun set on a clear sky…

No… it couldn’t be… you couldn’t have…

Could you?

Was this even possible?

You let out a squeak as he got even closer, the hardness of his vest pressing you harder against the wall. Hands already placed on his shoulders, you felt his chest rumble with a faint delight when you responded to his touches.

As quickly as the image popped into your head, it seemed to fade just as fast when he let you go and made you exhale from the long contact. He gently took your chin in his hand and raised your head to look at him, staring you square in the eye.

“I don’t want you smelling like him anymore, (Y/n),” he uttered, his eyes dilating back to normal and going soft. “If he tries that shit again, you come to me, ok?”

Without waiting for your response, he strode over to the door, unlocked it and made his exit, leaving you stunned and your body wanting all at the same time.

What the hell am I gonna do?

For the next week, Roman wouldn’t leave your side, not even for a second. Even Ember started to notice the near possessiveness the hulking Alpha was demonstrating and quite frankly, it freaked the hell out of her.

Hell, he even had the nerve to walk you down the ramp and accompany you to your rematch against Ruby dressed like a damn bouncer that following Monday, despite you continuously telling him not to. As the bell rang and the two of you went after each other, you could still feel his piercing gaze watch every move you made.

Everything was going well for you so far. You had managed to get Ruby’s shoulder’s down for the pin, and the ref’s hand was slamming down on the mat.

You waited for the three-count, but it never came because of the sound of blaring bagpipes that was Drew’s theme. Glancing towards the ring gave you the vision of a very pissed off Scottish Alpha who was currently focused on one Roman Reigns.

What the hell is he doing here? you mused, hefting yourself off of the Riott Squad member. Moving your gaze to them, you saw that they were engaged in a heated argument, standing face to face with fingers being pointed. One thing led to another and soon enough, both men were throwing fists in each other’s faces.

“What the hell are you two doing?! Stop!” you screamed at them, hoping that they’d hear you.

But they didn’t.

You didn’t see Ruby get off her back, and you certainly didn’t see the incoming kick she landed on the back of your neck. With you dazed, she quickly hit you with a roll-up and caught the three-count.

Her theme stated to play as she rolled out of the ring and rushed up the ramp, not wanting to see the outcome of your situation. As it stopped, you were left kneeling in the ring, shocked and tugging at the ends of your hair.

Small tears welled up in the corner of your eyes as you eyed the two men at ringside. Your wolf screamed anger and hurt, and you just wanted to get away from those two bastards. You got yourself up and stepped out of the ring ropes just in time to shove past both of them to walk backstage.

What was all that about? Do they know about… that already? Am I completely and utterly screwed. Do they know that I have to choose?

Every step towards the women’s locker room felt like a solid punch to your heart as thoughts kept raging in your mind, keeping you on your toes when you turned a corner.

“(Y/n)!”

Shit.

You stopped dead in your tracks in the middle of the hallway, silently cursing that there was no one around who could help you. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on the walls and headed in your direction, but you couldn’t move yourself to look at them.

“Shit, small fry, we didn’t mean to-”

“‘M sorry this màthair (motherfucker) wasn’t-”

Their barrage of word vomit made you pivot on your heel, and you could feel your eyes begin to glow brighter and dilate more.

“Will the both of you please shut the fuck up?!”

And that line did it for them.

Sighing, you dropped your head into the palm of your hand and took a deep breath. No need to lose your shit over this, (Y/n). Just calm down.

“Ro,” you resumed, “i know you care about me and I know you want to protect me, but you don’t have to hover around my shoulder 24/7! I need space to breathe, you know.”

Turning to the Scot, you pointed a finger at him and said, “And you, Drew, you don’t have to step up to my friends just because they want what’s best for me. You have to see that. Now, can you both please tell me what’s wrong without killing each other in the process?”

Both men’s heads spun to the side to face the other, teeth bared and hands at the ready.

“I don’t want him fucking touching my mate!” they both roared at the same time.

Boom.

…

The lack of sound was deafening when you asked, “...your what? Roman, how long have you known?”

“Ever since you came to me with Ember after the situation with your ex,” the Samoan in front of you answered, shoving his hair back and glancing back at you. “That’s why I didn’t want you to get close with the Scot.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know it, Reigns!”

“What did you say to me?” he demanded, pressing up against the other Alpha.

“I said it’s bullshit,” he smirked, looking down at him. “I’ve locked onto her scent for months now. I had a feelin’ about it, and I confirmed that last week.”

“So you cornered her to prove your damn point? Is that why I smelled her on you during our match last week?!”

They both turned to face you, making you shudder under their intense gazes. Drew gestured to you, saying, “Maybe we should let the lady decide for herself.”

What?

“So, lass, which one of us is tellin’ the truth?”

You wanted to shrink down into your skin in that moment. You had to tell them. It was the moment of truth.

But… would they accept it?

“Um… here’s the thing…” you started, gingerly holding the back of your neck. “I haven’t been the most… honest… person with you two either.”

Roman crossed his arms, confused. “What do you mean, (Y/n)?”

“Well, both of you seem to draw the same reaction out of me, since you both had scented me last week, so I think that you both are my mates.”

As you finished, you let out a soft nervous giggle, but the two Alphas in front of you weren’t laughing. The aura in the hall felt like all the air was sucked out of it in that one moment, the tension being so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife if you could.

After what seemed like hours of nothing being said, Roman piped up. “Why didn’t you say anything, small fry?”

“Are you kidding me?! You two try to murder each other on a weekly basis, so imagine what would’ve happened if I told you, or you for that matter,” you countered, looking back at Drew, “that your rival was also my mate.”

“She’s got a point there,” he pointed out.

“Shut up, asshole.”

You uttered, “This is exactly what I was talking about. We can’t even have a decent conversation without you two throwing jabs at each other.”

“How does this even work, (Y/n)?” Roman questioned, his eyes softening.

You shrugged as you placed your hands on your hips. “I don’t know the fucking biology of being an Omega. All I know is that you two are my mates and that I get super turned on when I’m around you.”

Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to say that, you thought, cursing the Omega in you wanting to jump their bones. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to keep more inner thoughts from coming out, but it was already too late.

Both men raised a brow at the comment, Drew chuckling at your newfound embarrassment.

“So what you’re sayin’ is…. is that you’re turned on right now?”

Don’t nod, don’t nod, don’t do fucking anything.

But, your brain and your nerves had other plans for the night as you nodded in agreement. He walked the short distance to you and cupped your jaw, drawing you to face his eyes. The Scot noticed how you weren’t fighting him off and he chuckled at your submission.

“That’s good, then.”

And with that, he drew you up to his waiting mouth and planted a hard kiss to your own, leaving you weak in the knees. His lips claimed yours in a heated dance that left you wanting - no, craving - more.

You couldn’t help but trail after his mouth when he slowly pulled away, leaving more than an ache between your thighs. Roman growled, stepping forward to handle him himself but you thrusted your arm out, holding him back.

“Leave him, Ro,” you told him, trying to keep your own body up on your shaky legs. “I’m fine.”

“You heard the caileag (girl), Reigns. She’s into it.” A lewd grin slid onto his face when you voiced your approval. His hands continued their path from his sides and onto your body, gripping your hips and moving you closer.

A minute passed before you asked, “So, what do we do now?”

“Well,” Drew spoke, his voice dripping faintly with lust, “I say we take our activities somewhere more… private.”

You shivered, seeing his teeth grow and feeling his scent start to seep into your skin. You were momentarily snapped out of your drifting by Roman, who cleared his throat.

“Is this ok with you, (Y/n)? I don’t want him trying to force you to do anything,” he said, maneuvering himself behind you and running his palms up and down your arms.

You mock him, “Is this ok with me? Have you ever seen the two of you? Of course I’m good with this.”

Drew roared with laughter, hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Where should we take this now, (Y/n)?”

“I feel like I’ll explode if I have to wait any longer and frankly, I don’t think you can wait either,” you chided as you ground down against both of their bulges, making them groan.

“Alright, then. So let’s just continue it here.”

Wait, what?

As soon as you opened your mouth, Drew slammed his lips back onto yours, claiming them as his once again. His tongue slipped in-between your lips to entangle itself with your own as Roman began to pepper kisses along the back and down your neck. The Samoan then bit down harshly, pulling a moan from you as he sucked a dark mark into the skin.

Surprisingly, through the feeling of getting drunk off of two Alphas trying to get in your pants, your logistical side kicked in.

Wrenching your lips from the man in front of you, you wondered, “Wait a minute, what if someone sees us?”

“They won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”

Roman’s voice piped up from behind you, his hands moving to your hips and switching their place with the Scot’s. He continued to place love bites on the column of your neck while Drew’s lips left your own and began to trail down your jaw.

Planting a final bite to your bottom lip, he moved down to the side of your neck that Roman hadn’t marked up yet and setting down his own claims on you. Your skin was ablaze with a burning need for something to happen, and you guys had just started.

You wanted them to bite you, mark you. Show the whole world that you had been blessed with two burly Alpha males.

Tilting your head back, you whined and pressed Drew’s head into your skin to voice what you couldn’t say. His chest rumbled with a caged laughter, slightly humbled by your enthusiasm.

“We’ll get to that soon, nighean bheag (baby girl). Just be patient.”

His mouth trailed from down your neck and hit the top of your chest, licking and biting at any patch of skin he could reach. He reached up to cup your breast, fondling it briefly before pulling down your ring top and eyeing your hardened nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and made you tug on his hair, holding his head still while Roman reached into your top to massage the other one.

The two men seemed to work together in a weird way you hadn’t seen before as when Drew finished working on one of your nipples, Roman would move on to pinch and tug at it when he moved to the other. It made your lower belly go warm and made you smile a little.

As he continued to make his way down, Ro made it his effort to keep you entertained up top with him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re so beautiful like this, Omega,” he murmured before softly placing his lips on yours. “I can smell your needy pussy from up here. But, I’m gonna let him have a taste first.”

You felt your face grow warm and chose to focus your vision on the wall behind Drew, but they both weren’t having that tonight.

A sharp pinch on your thigh through your fishnets brought your attention back to the man who was currently on his knees in front of you. “Ya better not be spacing out on us, leannan. We need you t’ see how ready you are for us.”

His accent was muddy with lust as he gripped the sides of your ring shirts and pulled them down, you toeing them off when they reached your ankles. A ripping sound followed thereafter when he put a large hole in the crotch of your tights to expose the black cotton panties you wore.

“Mmm,” he moaned, pressing his nose in the apex of your thighs and inhaling deeply, “ya smell absolutely divine, lass. We’ve barely touched ya and you’re already drippin’ wet.”

Barely? Um, the various hickies on my neck beg to differ.

You held the catty remark back just as he ran his fingers up and down where your slit was, causing you to buck your hips in his face.

“Roman, if ya wouldn’t mind…?”

He smirked, moving his rough hands to your thighs. “Gladly.”

He held them tight and spread them, hoisting you up to keep them apart. He was strong enough to hold you there - and more than likely enough to do some other things to you - and that made a shiver run down your spine.

A breeze hit your bare lower lips when Drew dragged your panties to the side and stared at your juices shining in the low light.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You’re soaked, (Y/n). I wonder if I just…”

The sentence trailed off into nothing as he leaned forward to lick a stripe from the bottom of your lips to the top, spreading them to circle your clit with his thumbs. A loud moan almost left you, but you placed your hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.

Roman tutted at you, biting your earlobe and tugging on it. “Oh no you don’t, baby girl. You’re gonna let the entire arena know who’s making you feel this good. So, take that hand from your mouth now.”

Slowly drawing your hand away, you felt Drew blow on your clit and suck it into his mouth, suctioning his lips around the small but. This time, you didn’t try to hide the noise that you let out, your Omega side going crazy at the thought of being pleasured by your true mates.

He moved his fingertips down your labia and went straight for your hole, sliding a thick one in and groaning at your tightness. The vibrations ran from your core up and you tried to wrap your thighs around his head but Roman’s grip prevented you from doing so.

He peeked over your shoulder and groaned at the sight, rutting his hips into your ass. He saw the Scottish Alpha slide two more of his fingers into you and felt you squirm in his hold, the sight making him grow even harder. Shutting his eyes, he bent his head back and banged it against the wall behind him but not before he heard Drew call his name.

“Spread her ass, Roman. I have an idea.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis when you heard that. Even in your arousal fueled daze, you managed to choke out a moan and grind your hips down on the Scot’s fingers.

His brows furrowed, picking his head back up to face you. “This alright with you, (Y/n)?”

Oh Roman, always the protective one, you thought when you nodded, your nerves igniting at the thought.

That was all the approval Drew needed before the man behind you grasped your ass and spread your cheeks, exposing your back hole to his waiting eyes. Gliding his wet fingers from your core and to your ass made you shudder at the sudden emptiness but groan at the newfound wet feeling.

Looking up at you, a soft grin was in place of his usual cocky smirk as he kissed the exposed skin of your thighs and slid his index finger into you.

You were pretty sure that groans you two made that second were ricocheting off the walls at that point with your nails currently biting into the skin of Roman’s arms. One hand flew to the back of Drew’s head when he moved his tongue back to your clit, flicking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

The coil in your core grew tighter and tighter with each passing moment and with each finger Drew added to your ass. Three fingers later, you were trembling in Roman’s hold and willing yourself not to cum all over his face. Luckily, he withdrew his fingers just in time to sit back and watch your own slick drip down from your empty cunt and into your gaping ass.

The erotic sight made him squeeze his cock through his ring trunks, releasing a pent up moan from within him. As he rose, the sight of your wrecked form with marks covering your neck and shoulders seemed to have an effect on both men. A silent agreement between the two lead Roman to place you on the ground shakily as they removed their pants to expose their hard members to you.

Drawing your eyes from the floor, they stuck to their cocks, inches on inches of throbbing Alpha that made your legs even more shaky and your core throb with anticipation.

“So, who’s getting where, boys?” you asked, chuckling slightly with how drunk you were on both of them.

Side eyeing each other, they nodded and each grabbed one of your arms, spinning you around so that your front faced Roman and that your back hit Drew’s chest.

“I’m gonna need more of that tight ass of yours, love,” he responded, desire dripping from his tongue. He slapped your ass then, the sound bouncing off the walls and your ears. He snickered when you ground back against him as if to ask for more, but he just lifted you up and wrapped your legs around Roman instead.

“Hey there, small fry.”

The softness that had lingered in his eyes before was soon overtaken by dilated pupils when roman held onto your hips and Drew spread your cheeks to expose your hole. Both men angled themselves against you, causing your lower half to quiver, and they slowly slid into you.

You couldn’t form into words the feeling of being filled at both ends. When Drew popped into your ass, you shut your eyes and stars formed behind your lids. They both began their slow thrusting to get you warmed up, but your whimpers and whines almost made them lose their cool a few times.

“Harder, please, I need it.” Your needy Omega side was starting to come forth, and you bounced on both men as best you could to achieve that feeling.

“To hell with it,” Drew growled, slapping your ass once more before pistoning his hips into yours, beckoning Roman to do the same.

“Yes, yes!” you sobbed as they set a brutal pace, feeling their cocks rub against each other through your wall’s thin tissue. The sound of skin slapping on skin was deafening and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head when Roman hit your spot dead-on.

Tilting your head back again, you rested it on Drew’s broad shoulder and rocked your hips forward when your Samoan started lapping at your breasts. Sweat began to drip down and off of all of you, none of you caring anymore whether someone heard you fucking or not. You felt their knots start to swell underneath you, causing you to push back harder against them. They both roared at this, each of them going back down to give your neck more hickies.

“We’re not gonna knot ya, (Y/n),” Drew panted, his voice hot and heavy in your ear. “We’ll save that for another time.”

“Yeah, a time when we’re actually in a bed,” Roman added, chuckling at your expression.

You clenched down on both of them and they groaned, holding back their own impending release for when you came. You actually weren’t that far off from them because the coil in your core seemed to snap when they looked at each other, eyes dark and teeth sharp. They looked down at your bite ridden neck and bit down harshly, piercing the skin and marking you.

That’s what did it for you.

When your slick gush onto Roman’s cock in fervish, he spilled his own load inside you as he gripped your already bruise covered hips. Drew was the last to fall over that edge, shooting his hot cum deep inside your ass and revelling in the feeling.

The three of you panted and slumped against each other in a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies. The wall against Roman’s back would’ve been a blessing if he had his shirt off but for now, he’d just enjoy the moment for the time being.

A few seconds had passed of you all being connected when you said, “I don’t think I can walk for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks were flushed to oblivion, and you felt like you were fucked six ways from Sunday. Still holding you, Roman suggested, “Maybe we should take a breather for a minute. Or five. Or fifty.”

“I like the sound of that,” the Scot agreed, nuzzling your hair and smiling. His accent was still thick but you still managed to hear everything he said.

You mind began to drift off as you felt them lap at the bonding marks they made on you. Even though your entire body ached and you were probably going to waste an entire bottle of concealer to cover up your various bruises, you couldn’t be more happy.

You continued to drink in the mixture of the warm and cool scents around you, letting it fill your lungs and enter your heart. It’s be like this every day with them, hopefully.

Your true mates.

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