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telli1206 · 1 year

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Promise Me

Surprise @callous-and-misunderstood! I’m your @descendantsgiftexchange Secret Santa 😊 I’m so sorry this is late, I was asked to step in to gift you a little late in the game. But I do hope this angst/fluff Isle Jaylos fic is good enough to make up for the lateness. You deserve the best! I hope you had a wonderful holiday!

AO3 Link

Looking back, Jay knows they made a mistake.

Planning to arrive at the docks before sunrise wasn’t a bad idea, per se. They had to try to be first to get their hands on Auradon’s after-Christmas spoils. There’s no better haul, especially when it comes to the heaps on heaps of food that are piled in it, all better quality than the usual, barely edible waste that’s dumped on the isle the rest of the year. This is all clearly party-level shit, with random herbs and plants lying all over it for garnish, along with the occasional gold and fancy dinner plate or serving tray. It was considered the feast of the year for any and every Isle-goer.

And Jay, Carlos, Evie, and Mal were all on track to arrive for the shipment early as hell. Half of the Isle was still sleeping, and they were going to have their pick of the delivery. That’s a win, for sure.

But maybe cutting through pirate territory wasn’t their best plan of action. Though it’s undoubtedly the fastest way to get to the docks, it’s always guarded. Uma doesn’t let even a second pass without someone from her crew keeping a lookout on every corner. Ignoring an easy route to opt for what they thought would be the fastest was the start of their downfall and ultimately the reason they’re being chased right now.

It didn’t take long for Jonas to spot them just outside an alley, and his shouts alerted most of the crew, including Gil, and of course, Harry, who never turns down a chance for a chase. Especially when it’s Mal’s group.

Harry looks crazed in the dulled orange haze of the early morning sunrise. He’s cackling like a wildman and swinging his sword every which way, forcing Gil and Jonas to dodge its blade as they try to keep chase next to him. And between Harry’s ruckus, Evie’s wails, and Carlos’ screams, the commotion they’re making is enough to wake up the rest of the Isle before they even reach the docks.

It’s not like this is new, though. Truthfully, this type of interaction is pretty much standard practice anytime they risk an encounter with the pirates. And it could have easily ended like all the others, with little to no bodily harm and leaving them plenty of time to collect when the shipment arrived. So, Jay really had no reason to worry. Yet.

It’s when Mal decides to cut across a frozen portion of the water, a move Jay’s sure she thought would be the best way to quickly shake the pirates off their tail, that it all goes terribly wrong.

They’re not paying attention to the strength of the ice. But Jay realizes that far too late to do anything about it. He feels the solid surface giving way under his feet as he runs, and when his heel breaks through for a moment he falters, stumbling himself closer to land as his feet scramble for purchase on ground that can hold him. When he finally steadies himself on a piece of rocky shore, his eyes are already frantically searching the ice.

He sees Evie immediately, less than a foot away from him. She’s already sprawled onto her stomach to spread out her weight, and Jay can easily grab her by the hand and slide her back in. She gives him a grateful, weak half-smile as her fingers grasp tightly to the exposed earth.

When Jay’s head shoots back up, he breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of Mal’s body arcing in the air, landing just a few feet ahead on frozen ground.

He’s about to smile as he makes a final scan with his eyes, until he finally catches sight of Carlos…and his heart drops.

It’s only a split second before Carlos disappears under the surface. Jay doesn’t even hear the ice break, but he’s gone and there’s a hole where he was standing. And Jay is already running.

His heart is thrumming so loud in his ears that he can’t make out the sounds around him. There’s a dull ringing that he can only assume is Evie screaming, but he only hears it for a moment before his body is disappearing in the shock-ice-cold of the frozen water beneath them. His body almost forgets how to move once it’s submerged in the frigid temperatures, but he forces himself to kick his way down, his arms pushing away debris and tiny ice chunks as he goes.

He knows Carlos sank like a stone. He’s never learned to swim. He’s never had to, like most of the kids that are trapped on an island with little to no access to the surrounding waters.

Jay’s grateful now that he decided to teach himself so he could gain better access to trinkets or cargo lost in the water. It was a bonus trick he thought he could use on occasion, to be able to grab extra bits for Jafar and the shop. It’s come in handy quite a few times, but never more so than in this moment.

He’s been under for a good minute now. His legs are starting to fail and his lungs feel like they could burst. He keeps his lips pressed as tightly as he can, flailing out his arms everywhere to feel for anything he could grab onto. The water is so murky he can barely see in front of his face.

He knows that finding Carlos might be a one-in-a-million shot, but there’s no way he’s giving up. He’d rather die down in the dirty depths of this disease-ridden water than even entertain the thought of never making Carlos smile again. Or hearing his laugh, which always starts off soft, but builds in heartiness the harder Jay works for it. Or looking into the deepest, darkest most soulful brown eyes he’s ever seen, that could take his breath away every time if he let them.

Maybe I should have let them, Jay thinks now, since his breath is almost gone anyway. Colors are swirling behind his eyelids, and he’s feeling faint. He knows this might be his last chance, so he gives his legs one last hard kick, stretching his arms out as far as they’ll go in front of him.

And he’s rewarded with a thick sleeve. He’d know that leather anywhere, with thick buckles at the wrist to keep them tight, and an extra loop inside to hold Carlos’ switchblade.

Jay almost shrieks with joy, but fights the urge to avoid swallowing in water before he can get Carlos to the surface. Once he’s sure he has a fully supported grip on his sleeve, Jay starts to pull them upward with all the strength he still has left.

It’s a slow trek, hindered additionally by the fact that Jay’s heart feels ready to give out. His body’s moving on instinct now, his one free hand digging through the chunky ice water while his legs kick at a steady pace. It seems like an eternity, but when his fingers break through to frigid air he exhales a deep sigh of relief, and tugs a now wriggling Carlos up to the surface.

The boy in his arms sputters and gasps immediately, and Jay is so elated he just wants to give him the most crushing hug, to feel his heart and breath alive and close to his chest.

But before he can do anything Carlos is ripped from his arms. His eyes follow his body as he starts to slide away on his stomach, Evie gripping him tightly by the wrists. Jay’s only focus is on them until he starts to feel a tug under his own arms. He’s too shocked to process what’s happening, and then he’s being dragged out of the hole in the ice. But he recognizes Mal’s grumbling tone right away.

“Fuck, you idiot! I wish you gave us a chance to help you. Thank evil you’re ok!”

She groans when she finally slumps them both back onto the shore, panting heavily. She slings Jay next to her, and he grunts when he rolls onto the dirt, his wet strings of hair tangling into the rocks and sand. He couldn’t care less though, he’s already pushing himself onto his hands and flicking hair out of his face, his eyes frantically searching the shore.

He spots Carlos just a few feet in front of him, sprawled across Evie’s lap. He can see his chest rising and falling heavily, sucking in deep breaths while Evie pushes the damp curls out of his face.

Jay exhales, his body physically relaxing at the sight of Carlos breathing. He barely hears Mal’s muttered, “You’re welcome!” before he starts to shuffle across the ice to them, still on his hands and knees.

“Jay!” Evie scolds, her eyes wide. “We need to get you both warm! What are you doing?!”

Jay ignores her, instead reaching for Carlos. It only takes him a few seconds to lift him out of her lap and into his arms, his neck and the backs of his knees cradled softly between Jay’s elbows.

His muscles protest a bit, and he groans at the resistance when he tries to straighten himself. The movement shocks Carlos to full consciousness, and he gasps and wraps his arms around Jay’s neck for support.

“J-Jay? What’s…what, are you d-doing?” Carlos head whips around, spotting Evie and then Mal, both motionless and gawking at them.

“Are…where…”

Before Carlos can finish his thought, Jay squeezes him tightly, pressing him as close to his body as he can, and suddenly breaks off into a full sprint. Carlos yelps, tightening his grip and gaping in surprise as the girls quickly disappear from his view.

“Jay! Put. Me. Down! I can walk!”

Jay just shakes his head and continues to run with Carlos tucked into him firmly.

“No, can do, ‘Los,” he tells him, turning the corner towards their hideout. “You need to be somewhere where we can warm you up. Don’t worry, Mal’ll figure it out and bring Evie with her. They’ll be fine.”

He glances down at Carlos for a brief moment, breaking into a smile when he sees brown eyes looking back at him.

“Just, relax. Ok? I’m gonna take care of you.”

-----

Carlos is groggy when he finally wakes up.

Slowly, he props himself up on his elbows, blinking at the soft, filmy light that’s filtering in through the window. Just next to it, Mal is sitting at the table, poking at something with a butter knife. And beside her, Evie is flopped across the same table, sleeping soundly. They both look…surprisingly dry. Wearing new, dry clothes and combing through their wet hair makes them look…clean, and fresh. As if their morning ordeal had never even happened.

And Carlos is surprised at how warm and dry he feels, too. He doesn’t remember changing out of his wet clothes. Actually, he doesn’t remember much after Jay brought him back to the hideout and demanded he stay put on the couch for the rest of the day. As much as Carlos wanted to voice his protest, his body wouldn’t allow for it. He passed out almost immediately once his head hit the cushions.

“Pup!”

Carlos is jostled from his thoughts when Mal approaches, hastily plopping herself on the couch and instantly launching into a thorough examination. Carlos grunts, pushing at her chest when he squeezes her chin and pulls him toward her, peering into his eyes and using her free hand to pluck up his eyelids.

“Mal, back off already!” He pushes against her chest again, and this time she falls back a little and releases his chin. Still, she’s quick to lean in again, one hand pressing on his knee to lift her gaze, her eyes continuing to skim appraisingly over his eyes and face.

“I’m fine. I swear,” he tries to reassure her. He places his hand over hers on his knee, but pulls back a little when he encounters something fluffy and soft, like animal fur.

Fur??

His head drops to his lap, completely unable to hide his shocked expression. There’s a literal fur on him! He starts to scoot himself away, careful not to touch it, until Mal’s arm shoots out and grips his wrist. She’s shaking her head furiously and tries to pull him back in.

“No! Carlos, it’s fake! Not real! Look-” she brushes her hand along the fur, then sweeps open his palm and brings it down to the blanket. It’s…bushy. And a little scratchy. It’s soft enough to mimic fur, but Carlos has seen enough of the real thing to feel confident that this…this isn’t it.

“It’s a fake fur blanket. Jay found it today at the docks.”

Carlos is still smoothing his fingers on the blanket, but Mal’s words make his ears perk up. He looks at her, furrowing his brow.

“The…docks?”

“Yeah! He went back. You know, after he knew you were-” she gestures a Carlos. “-well…ok.”

Carlos bites his lip, watching Mal’s weak smile, the hint of concern still in her eyes. He smiles at her, letting his hand rest back on hers.

“And I am, Mal. I’m ok,” he asserts, nodding at her and gently squeezing her hand.

Mal grins then, sitting up properly and offering another quick smile before casting a glance over her shoulder at Evie, who’s still sleeping.

“Oy! Princess!” She shrills suddenly, and chuckles a little when Evie’s whole body jerks and her head shoots up, eyes wide with surprise. “Pup’s awake, finally. Get your ass over here.”

Evie turns to Carlos, relaxing into a smile when she sees him sitting up and looking at her.

“Oh Carlos! Thank evil.” She moves quickly over to the couch, perching lightly on the edge of it, right next to Carlos’ hip. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugs and tilts his head to crack his neck, shaking out his arms and legs and giving his body a quick once-over.

“Fine, I think,” he says finally, giving Evie a warm smile. “I can’t believe I’m so…dry. And not cold at all. This blanket is amazing.”

Evie brightens, grabbing the blanket in her hand and stroking it between her fingers.

“Isn’t it? Jay did such an amazing job today. He got so many things! I can’t even believe it. Especially since he-“

She stops herself, biting on her finger and glancing away quickly. When she looks back, she forces herself to relax, giving Carlos a comforting smile.

“You know, since we got a late start today. And he insisted on going by himself. He wouldn’t even take Mal with him!”

“Stubborn bastard,” Mal mutters behind her, and Evie throws back a hand and pats her leg.

“Well, it all turned out fine, didn’t it? And he got some great food, too! Carlos, you have to see!”

Evie pops up then with an excited giggle, bouncing back to the table and grabbing a box sitting there.

“Look at this!” She shoves a cup into his hand.

Carlos frowns. It’s filled with a brown, mucky goo that doesn’t look appealing at all. But when Evie steadies it with her head and peels back the lid, a pleasant, sugary aroma fills his nostrils.

“It’s a pudding,” Evie explains. “I don’t know the flavor, Carlos, but it’s SO good. You’re going to love it! Just, try it!”

He perks a brow curiously, dipping a pinky into the cup to carefully scoop the smallest bit of the goo onto the pad of his finger. When it reaches his lips, he takes a tentative sniff before stealing a tiny lick with the tip of his tongue.

But even that little taste invades his mouth with a delicious sweetness. It’s sugary, smooshy, and possibly the most amazing thing he’s ever tasted. He’s quick to shovel more and more into his mouth, forgoing his finger and choosing to use his whole hand instead. His mouth is full and his fingers are absolutely coated with pudding when he hears someone clearing their throat loudly.

“Um, ‘Los?”

His eyes shoot up, and Carlos sees Jay, standing in the doorway with the quirk of a smile on his lips.

“So, I take it that means you’re feeling better?”

Carlos nods emphatically, smooshing pudding through his cheeks and doing his best to swallow it all down. He licks his fingers clean, wiping any remnants on his shorts as Jay approaches, his eyes focused only on Carlos until he’s standing right in front him. He barely notices as Mal grabs Evie’s arm to pull her away until the girl almost smacks into him.

But by the time Evie scoots away, shooting him an awkward smile and mumbled apology, he’s already back to watching Carlos intently. So much so that the boy can’t help but flush a little under Jay’s stare.

“Um, you’ve got…” Jay points at Carlos’ mouth, then ducks down to cup Carlos’ cheek in his hand. His thumb brushes his mouth gently, and Carlos’ eyes flutter at the tender touch.

Jay pulls away suddenly, and Carlos’ eyes blink back open to see him sucking the same finger into his mouth.

“Y-you had some pudding, there,” Jay makes a circle gesture at Carlos’ mouth, and the boy flusters instantly, wiping at his face with the back of his sleeve. But Jay grabs his hand to stop him.

“It’s ok. You’re good,” he says with a grin. He pulls back again and lets his hand drop. He just stands there for a significant beat, hovering over Carlos, as if wants to say, or ask, something.

Carlos smiles warmly and pats the couch next to him, a wordless invitation to which Jay immediately complies, sitting himself close enough so that they’re just barely touching.

“You-did you, change my clothes?” Carlos asks. “I just…I woke up so warm, and dry.”

“Yeah, I did! Eves helped me. Good thing we keep some stuff here at the hideout, right? I was afraid you’d freeze if we didn’t get you into something dry fast. I mean, I would have run to your house too if I had to, but it was easier-”

Jay stops when Carlos covers Jay’s hand with his own.

“I know you would. Thank you.”

Jay beams proudly, then looks down at Carlos’ hand. He turns his own to catch it, wrapping Carlos’ in his and moving to intertwine their fingers.

“I found this blanket, too, cause I wanted to keep you warm. It’s nice, isn’t it?” He touches the blanket and smiles to himself.

“And the food? I knew you’d like that pudding, but you’ve got to try the other stuff! There’s this cranberry sauce stuff that looks like jell-o but it’s actually pretty good. And I found some good loaves of bread too! And I got a shit ton of other cans of stuff. It was a pretty good haul, I think.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Carlos admits. His smile falters though, and he lets out a deep sigh. “I’m glad you were able to get all this stuff, even though I was a dumbass and almost drowned.”

Jay squeezes his hand tightly and purses his lips into a tight frown. “No! Don’t say that!” He blurts, shaking his head furiously. “That was NOT your fault. That could have been any of us. I almost fell through the ice too, right before you did! That was a stupid thing for us to do.”

Carlos’ lip trembles, and Jay reaches for him, pulling him close against his chest.

“Look, I’m just glad you’re ok. That’s all that matters to me. To Eves and Mal, too. Fuck, that was scary Pup.”

He strokes Carlos’s cheek, and then hooks his fingers under his chin to tip his head up to meet his eyes.

“I thought for a sec I might…lose you.”

He places a soft kiss to Carlos’ lips, which he quickly melts into, hooking a hand around Jay’s neck to pull him in for another. And another. After a prolonged minute, Jay starts to push Carlos down to the couch, but he’s stopped by loud grunts of protest behind him.

Carlos chuckles, his face turning red as he glances at Mal and Evie over Jay’s shoulder, sitting at the table just a few feet from him. He’s quick to plant his hands and push himself back upright, despite Jay’s disappointed groans.

“Look, we’re all glad Pup’s ok, Jay-Jay, but that doesn’t mean I’m down for some live porn viewing, ok?” Mal teases, laughing and lurching away when Evie swats her arm. “What?! You want to see it?”

“Don’t be vulgar,” Evie hisses. “But you don’t have to be mean, either. We’re just, all happy that Carlos is safe, that’s all.”

“Yeah Mal,” Jay tuts. “At least Evie’s ok with me showing Carlos how happy I am. Cockblocker.”

He sticks his tongue out at Mal’s fake gags, but smiles triumphantly when Evie finally yanks her up to drag her out the door. When the door shuts behind them, he turns back to Carlos with a winning smile and a wink.

“Now Jay…” Carlos starts, putting a hand to his chest. But instead of diving back in, Jay just clasps Carlos’ hand there, and starts to rub it softly with his thumb.

“It’s fine, you know I like fucking with Mal. You know we don’t have to do anything. But-”

His eyes trail down to Carlos’ lips, focusing on them for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“Can you just, do one thing for me?”

“Of course,” Carlos replies instantly. “Anything.”

Jay smiles at that, his thumb still moving mindlessly across Carlos’ skin.

“Just, promise me you won’t die, ok? I can put up with a lot of shit on this island, but not that. I can deal with fucking anything but that.”

Carlos breaks into a wide smile, choking back a laugh of surprise. He can’t stop himself from leaning back in then, and pressing a firm kiss to Jay’s lips.

“How about, I promise to do everything in my power not to die, ok? But only if you promise me, too.”

Jay grins, and pulls Carlos in closer by his elbow until their foreheads are touching.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Pup.”

#jaylos #fluff and angst #ice adventures #isle of the lost #descendants #jay son of jafar #Carlos De Vil #evie grimhilde #mal bertha #gil legume #harry hook #uma daughter of ursula #my writing #descendantsgiftexchange #callous_and_misunderstood

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thisisbecausepolyvoreclosed · 3 months

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Concept design for Jayden Shiba as he appears in discussions me and my friend, @dani-luminae , have about the AU we have going on Dani's fic, Love From The Stars.

Hailing from a family of pirates, Jayden Shiba like a-lot of pirates when Auradon was formed, was banished to the Isle of The Lost alongside his wife, Alexandria, something both hated and longed to be freed from and go back to travelling the world again. This hate and longing would lead to the pair meeting the imprisoned god, Hades, who recruited pirates like Jayden and Alexandria to help with a scheme to escape the Isle. It didn't work, of course. Plans like that never work on the Isle. But during all this, Alexandria would ultimately end up spending a night with Hades, something Jayden wasn't against, given the couples open relationship nature and therefore, list of lovers on both sides. But while both were aware due to lack of any good protection supplies on the Isle, both are caught off guard still by Alexandria finding herself pregnant from her night with Hades, with Alexandria caught off guard the most. And despite Jayden, after the initial shock, being fine keeping the baby, Alexandria ultimately feared the baby and its potential too much. And as a result of this, only a few hours after the baby was born, Alexandria would come to the decision to abandon the baby on Hades' doorstep, and while Jayden and her were iffy with each other for a bit after that, both still remained together as both still loved each other at the end of it all, but both after the baby were more careful with their lovers if they continued to have those.

But eventually during their time on the Isle, tragedy would strike when Alexandria became deathly ill and despite Jayden's best efforts to keep her alive, she would ultimately pass away, leaving Jayden bitter towards Auradon even when freed finally alongside everyone else on the Isle, unable to forget Alexandria's death and how it could have been prevented if they had the right medication on the Isle. Choosing to not join a crew, Jayden would travel the world like normal, but in a more slow way, unable to find the adventure in it anymore without Alexandria. One day though, Jayden finds himself being tracked down by that very same baby that had been abandoned with Hades, now a teenager going by the name of Reese, who in her search for answers on her mom, found Jayden...

#lfts au #jayden shiba (canon character)#concept look #(me typing this initally: 'its just a summary-' me midway: 'but i could sprinkle in a lil angst while at it-'#also yeah uh ultimately decided this jayden and alexandria were just very open relationship and both had lovers really #with uh jaydens potentially including captain hook himself #(cue harry with jayden being that meme: 'did you fuck my dad jayden? did you fuck my dad jayden?' if he dont already know lol)#also should note here; this does not effect reese being adopted by jim ultimately #jayden while hes happy to see reese again and such #is more fine acting like the chill uncle really #hes not really gonna cross parentry boundries with the people reese sees as parents already (and trust her that list is long)#as he just ultimately happy to find adventure again when jim invites him to the space pirates)

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i-only-know-fandoms · 1 year

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Sorry, but I had an ask/prompt for @bunny-lou and the introduction took up a whole ask so it would have taken 80 separate asks to get all this out and no, I feel awkward enough sending this. So we’re making a post and sending the post instead, so this will be long so if you follow me and don’t care, I’m sorry for making you scroll a mile to get through this. But it is a Descendants fic idea, and while I was sending it to bunny-lou because that’s where the inspiration came from, if it inspires you, have at it

Hey @bunny-lou This is going to be long and awkward, but I came up with a similar prompt type thing a while ago based on the description of Wednsday's Child and your original prompt, but never got around to sending it to you (my mind is mush), but you just shared your Carlos left behind on the Isle fics so it seemed like an opening, lol.

Part of what held me off is I feel awkward sending ideas to fic writers? I always feel like I'm demanding work from them, so to be clear you don't have to do anything with this (especially since this is LONG, like multichapter, and you have your own stories to work on, which I am excited for, especially for more Grin and Bear It, but also remember there's no rush. This is supposed to be fun for you, not something you dred. You don't owe us anything, and we'll be here waiting regardless, xoxo) especially because if it turned into something it's probably be multichapter like Wednesday's Child. But you influenced this so I wanted to send it to you. But I digress.

Postwriting Edit: I typed this out before hand so it would flow and make sense since I thought I’d have to send it in parts, but it got LONG. Feel free to ignore this, you probably have better things to do.

Because it starts the same: Mal, Evie, and Jay are sent to Auradon but Carlos is left behind. They promise to come back for him, time passes, and they don't. How it diverges from Wendsday's Child is that he stays loyal to his friends allies (because you can't have friends on the Isle, even if in his heart of hearts that's what he sees them as) which obviously causes him to be more or a target. Because Uma's crew will target him for being part of Mal's crew, Cruella is still a living hell, maybe Jafar and EQ are mad at him because Jay and Evie turned good, and didn't he know? Did he influence them? It's all his fault isn't it! Plus just the rest of the Isle who is mad at Mal for defecting. But Carlos trusts Mal. There's got to be a reason they haven't got him yet, political BS and all that, he just has to be patient and wait and survive.

And then D2 happens. Mal comes back to the Isle because she doesn't feel like herself, but time away romanticized it. She remembers being powerful and on top and doing whatever s he wants, but not the literal horrors. Until she gets to her hideout and Carlos is there, probably patching up some new injuries from any other those mentioned above, and she realizes, oh shit, it is terrible here. And Carlos is terrified when he hears someone coming becuase this is his one safe space on the Isle, and what will he do if it's gone, so he's ready to fight, even though he's probably in pain. But then Mal comes in. And he's so happy to see her. And he runs to greet her, is a hug too much? She chose good and is an Auradonian now, and he doesn't realize it but Mal is just hit with the weight of leaving him and not getting him over. And she's here to be Not Good again but here's Carlos, barely-living proof of the side of the Isle she forgot. But he doesn't notice her internal struggle because he's So Happy she's back. And he askes about Evie and Jay and she asks about what happened to him and he explains. But he's off hand about all the abuse, and focuses more on how everyone is mad at her, and Jafar and EQ and Cruella are particularly mad and would be after her if they know she's here, not to mention all the other citizens who see her as a traitor. And so Mal changes her plan. She's not just here to let loose anymore, she's here to protect Carlos and make sure No One hurts him again.

So things go on like they were in the movie, but with Carlos there. Maybe he goes to her to Dizzy's to get her hair dyed, becuase he doesn't want to let her out of his sight (and Mal doesn't want him out of her sight either) and Dear Dizzy is probably one of the only people who isn't terrible to him (maybe they bond over his cat, Beelzebub (because remember her? She's mentioned one in the first book but never again, but I think about her every day) because she's Lucifer's kitten and she can't live at Hell House with CRUELLA DE VIL (Why is that a thing in the book? She doesn't care about her son, let alone his pet. She'd see her as new fur) so she stays with Dizzy where it's safe (relatively speaking)). And Mal gets her hair back and all is good, but then Harry comes in, and along with stealing from Dizzy he pushes Carlos over of something, (idk the level of abuse but there's always something done when one of the pirates see him, and maybe he's not worth the effort of an actual beating at the moment but he's doing something to hurt Carlos). And the Mal comes out fuming, and yeah, he better tell Uma she's here because she's coming for them and her territory and to avenge Carlos.

So they're back in their hideout, and Carlos has to get back to Hell House to do chores, Cruella is going to be so mad and he's panicking, but Mal definitely won't let him out of her sight now. Let her come, she says, I'll take her, and maybe she's still painting and he's just enjoying watching her and and being with his friend leader again, when they hear someone else coming up (because really? Ben just sneaks up on Mal in the movie? Living on the Isle would have given her more acute senses than that, and it's not like Ben is used to a life of sneaking around), and Carlos is ready to fight for Mal, because it's got to be someone after her, and Mal is ready to kill for Carlos, because NO ONE is hurting him again, but then it's Ben. And he see's Carlos, and it hits him how the Isle is worse than he could ever imagine, and he thought what he saw coming to the hideout was bad. And he's awkward and put off by what he sees, but manages to get out how he came to talk to Mal. And sweet Carlos realizes this is an alone moment and starts to leave, but Mal is still worried about him being on his own, but she doesn't want to SAY that, because even if she's better with her emotions and will admit Carlos is her friend (though she hasn't, because he thinks he know, but does he really? Or does he think he's just useful to her and that he cares about them more than they do him) she doesn't want to belittle him and have him think she thinks he can't handle himself, so she tells him to hold on and askes Ben how even got to the Isle, because why wasn't that her first question? And doesn't he know how dangerous it is for him to be here? And Ben mentions Evie and Jay brought him and guarding him, and Carlos is So Excited and runs down, because his his big sister and brother (or crush or boyfriend, if this is a Jaylos story, I just tend to lean towards the 4 being a family, but whatever works and floats your boat) and he's missed them So Much.

So Ben's talks to Mal, still in shock actually seeing Carlos, but he's here to apologize to Mal, and he needs her to know he means it, and it's the same conversation, she tried, he'll change, she doesn't want him to change, and that proves she's just inherently bad for him. Maybe she laughs at the "people love you" line, because they love the fake image she made for herself, not who she really is. And she says she's doing what's best for Ben and Auradon, but she also says she's staying and protecting her family, and tells Ben to go, and so he does.

And meanwhile Carlos is reuniting with Evie and Jay and he's So Happy to see them and they're hit with the same feelings Mal had, What have we done? We abandoned our brother? And to add salt in the wound, he doesn't notice, so excited to see them, and when they bring up how they're sorry they haven't come to get him he brushes them off, because of course there's a good reason, and he can keep waiting. And he just, doesn't doubt them, doesn't even consider they just forgot about him. And they're too ashamed to tell him that's what it was, that they were too caught up in their new happy lives, and Carlos has already moved on that they have to be extra careful, because everyone is pissed at them and will be out for them, especially their parents, oh how their parents are mad at them. But that's when Ben comes down, dejected, and he's smart enough to be vague, just saying she didn't change her mind, not mentioning Carlos's part in all her decision to stay because he can already tell Carlos would be guilty for being the reason, and he doesn't know the lay of the land with this kid, but he knows he's important to Mal and Evie and Jay and he doesn't want to say something wrong and cause a rift, so he'll just wait and ask questions later.

But Evie says she'll go up and talk to Mal, because Mal is not staying, especially since Carlos told them it's even more dangerous for them. They're leaving and they're taking Carlos with them. But she goes up right away, she doesn't ask first, so it's just Carlos and Jay with Ben. So maybe they pirates do an actual attack to take Ben, becuase he's weak and they already know where Carlos is weakest, they just gave him a thorough beating the other day, so that just leaves Jay. So they split up to attack the three, but Jay is most worried about protecting Carlos, because why didn't he realize how much he missed him? And he's already hurt, he can't let him get worse. But that's how they can get Ben away so easily (because again, really, all their lives of knowing there surrounding go out the window after being in Auradon for a little bit? No, they would have noticed Ben being taken). Probably Harry puts in a few verbal hits about Carlos being weak and Jay leaving him behind as he gives the message for Mal to meet Uma.

Obviously Mal is mad, dong her "why did you bring him here bit" to Evie and Jay, but then there's Carlos, off to the side, blaming himself, even though Mal is trying to clearly direct her anger at the others and not him. But he failed to protect Ben, and he distracted Jay so he to failed protecting Ben by worrying over him and protecting him instead, and Carlos has seen the news, he knows Mal loves Ben, and now he just let the person most important to her get away (because years of being put down on the Isle by everyone, especially Cruella, he's not going to believe he's more important, or even equally important to her as Ben. He probably has a hard time believing Mal keeps him around for any reason other than being useful. But that doesn't matter, because Mal chose him for her crew and he loves them, even if they don't love him, which they obviously do but you can't just say that on the Isle, he will do whatever he can for them, give his iife for them). Probably when Evie says they wanted to protect Ben, Carlos points out it's his fault and apologizes to Mal, and they all assure him it's not his fault, but that doesn't change how he feels. So they plan, and Mal goes to meet Uma alone, and Carlos sure isn't going to force going along if she doesn't want him. She's his leader, what she says goes, and he doesn't want to mess things up further.

So Mal chats with Uma, it goes mostly the same, but when the arm wrestling starts, Uma brings up how she never bought the goody act, that her evil streak was clearly still there, what with how she left and forgot about Carlos, leaving him alone to die, rubbing in how that is the most evil thing she's done, telling he how Carlos never once waivered from her loyalty and has hell to pay ten times over for it, but Mal hasn't given one thought to him, has she, busy living her perfect life in Auradon. Probably bring up just some of the abuse he's been through because of Mal to taunt her, and that's what makes breaks and loose arm wrestling.

So Mal goes back and tells the others Uma's demand, leaving out the how because there's no way she's letting Carlos know is was because he was brought up that distracted her. She's not having him blaming himself for her weakness, like he's already doing with Ben's kidnapping, but at the same time she's thinking of what Uma has said happened to him, and how that's only a small part of what he's been through. Evie comes up with the 3D printer, because she may lean more towards chemistry than tech but she's still thinks it's cool. Plus she's the easiest to believe out of the three who would know about it. It must belong to the school instead of just Carlos, since Carlos isn't there. But this Carlos, his eyes light up when he hears about and Evie explains what it is and does, because it's sound so cool! Auradon must be a blast if they have cool toys like that! Maybe someone will throw one out one day and it'll land on the Isle and he can fix it up! (Cue more gilt for the other three)

But the teams have to change, since Carlos would have to stay on the Isle (RIP Space Between, you'll be fit in another time. Maybe once they're back in Auradon but before the Cotillion. I'm not quitting you). But that's okay, because Carlos is really smart too, and he knows enough about chemistry from the little Isle education gave him to make smoke bombs with Mal, so Evie and Jay go back to make the wand. (Idk about this part, the closest I've got is that they figure it out because Evie's so smart and if CHAD can figure it out, or she confided in Doug and he knows how to use it). Lonnie still find out and goes back to the Isle with them (and she meets Carlos and she tries to be cool, but she cried during the cookies at just the idea that villains don't love their kinds, but now she's seeing it) but Carlos just glows meeting her, because she's nice (did you notice Lonnie is the only one genuinely nice to the VKs in the first movie? Ben too, but you can argue he had to since they were his project, so to speak, and we know that's not why, but it can still be said, but Jane is obviously nice (pre family day) because she's scared of them and Doug is only nice because he's supporting Ben, and also probably scared of them) and she's not assuming he's evil because he's a VK, plus he's Mal and Evie and Jay's friend, so he can't be bad. Also, look at him for a second and you know he's not evil, and she's not blind, she can see that, although no children belong there, Carlos especially doesn't. And Carlos is so excited to meet another one of his family’s gang's friends, especially since he didn't really get to talk to Ben. (Lonnie immediately joins the "We Are Getting This Child Out Of Here" club).

And the rescue goes almost the same, but there's no Dude to talk, so maybe Carlos thinks that Uma will want proof of the wand being real beforehand and makes something techy to create the illusion of magic. And they get out as it's falling to pieces. Maybe they shove Carlos in the limo, but more likely he offers himself as a distraction so they can escape, because he knows he can't just leave, it has to be official and all that and he doesn't want to get his friends in trouble (he probably gets beat up again in the process).

And so the movie resolves the same, except they immediately after the Cotillion they go themselves, with royal guards, to take Carlos back to Auradon. Ben had a talk with Mal, Evie, and Jay, he learns who Carlos is, how important he is to them, how guilty they feel for leaving him, and decides he's getting that boy out NOW, red tape be damned. He uses the fact that Carlos helped save his life on the Isle to speed things up (and with him and Lonnie vouching for him he has two AKs support). He's probably at Hell House, doing chores and getting abused by Cruella when all these important Auradonians come him and take her son, and she's going crazy because her that's her servant, who will do everything for her? But Carlos is free, maybe Mal slaps her as payback for what she put Carlos through (because she can't just kill her. Ben is there, and royal guards. Plus, she knows how complicated their feelings are for their parents, and while she hates Cruella with a passion and would be glad to see her dead, she doesn't know how that would effect Carlos, so she leaves Cruella be. For now). And while Carlos is happy to be getting out of that hellhole, he's even more excited to be reunited with Mal and Evie and Jay again (he probably apologizes to Ben for getting him captured in the first place, and inside Ben's, like, wtf, why would he blame himself for that, getting another view of how damaging the Isle is). Maybe they stop to give Dizzy her invitation and pick up Beelzebub, because he's going to need a support animal and it won't be Dude because he'll still be terrified of dogs (plus you can't convince me he would just leave his pet and replace her with Dude. He got Bub to Auradon somehow, even if neither the books of movie mention her again).

And then the new adventure begins: Carlos adapting to Auradon life, actually getting a proper education for that beautiful big brain, seeing all the cool things Auradon has, processing his trauma, and unlearning all the negative things he was told about himself on the Isle, but he's back with his friends, and he's okay.

Dear Lord, this got long. Kudos to you if you actually spend the time reading all this, lol

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arkham-ayden · 9 months

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I finally updated again.

I have the silly little gay people in my fic being angsty again. Check it out if you love gay people or are sad beyond mortal comprehension! I will say, I ended at a slightly weird note, but there is a reason, all to be revealed next chapter. Have I got yall interested yet?

Nah but for real, I'm actually going to try and be more consistent because I love this fandom and I'm proud of what I've created and what I'll continue to make. I'm not planning on giving up on this fic anytime soon, even if updates are sporadic right now.

In other news:

Let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! Just don't be mean about it; I'm sensitive, Audrey!

#get it like audrey but its aubrey #i think im so funny tbh #ben descendants #descendants #carlos descendants #harry hook #ao3 fanfic #im so sorry for the angst #its worth it i promise #i also dont know if i want to split it into two books or keep it as one whole thing #lmk if you have ideas #my inbox is open if you wanna get a longer answer #than i give in fic comments #i like to overexplain but ao3 limits me #harry descendants #its 4 am #and i have work tomorrow #but gay people mean more to me than retail

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panthera-tigris-venenata · 2 years

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In the Ally of Neverland AU, consider:

Ally has blue eyes while CJ has brown ones; both are blonde.

Aluce also has blue eyes and blonde hair.

Nowy assume both girls were together when Aluce fell through the rabbit hole to the Isle: both girls were together when their mother made the split second decision to entrust her child to a stranger and hope she gets a better life.

It was the last time the twins were together, when Alice accept the child and jumped to the rabbit hole again, hoping the child will survive the journey. That it won't get lost, that it will survive the rabbit hole, that nothing else will notice it here. And when Alice looks at the baby in her arms... The baby has blue eyes and blonde hair, just like she has.

And on the Isle, the mother mourns the loss of of her child. She is torn between sadness and hope the baby will have a better life.

And guilt.

A lot of guilt.

She just gave one of her daughters a chance of better life based solely on her eye colour, didn't she?

Was it worth it?

It probably was, she decides, even if it will haunt her to the end of her days.

„It was a split second decision,“ she tells herself, „nothing calculated. I just panicked. It will be better like this. She can survive; she won't get suspected and discovered and semt back. It will be better like this.“

She repeats that mantra over and over: When her Captain Hook gets drunk and yells at every living being jn his vicinity, and even few non-living.

When Harriet screams at her, angry tears in her burning eyes – „How could you do this.“

(„I had to,“ she answers, „You would have done the same.“)

When Harry innocently asks where his baby sister disappeared.

(„She is in a better world now,“ she answers. It can't be a lie.)

And CJ?

CJ can never know.

#disney descendants #ally of neverland #cj and ally are twins au #ally of wonderland #me bringing out the angst #i'm sorry people #cj hook #harriet hook #harry hook #their mom might or might not be helga Sinclair in this #but it's irrelevant in the end

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idontliketomatoesleavemealone · 2 years

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Consider: Captain Hook getting drunk and seeing

- Murphy as Cubby

- Harriet as Wendy or Lily

- Harry as either Peter himself or John

- Sammy as Nibs or Slightly

- CJ as either Michael or Tootles

- the twins as… the twins

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descendantofthesparrow · 1 year

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warning; images of blood and psychosis.

Harry first loses control at 15 years old, some pirate who wouldn't take no for an answer grabs Uma and tries to take what he wanted. Harry's usual ocean blue turned bright blood red that glowed in the dark. His mind was a jumble of voices and static-all telling him one thing.

Kill.

his mind registers nothing else as Uma's voice barely breaks through the fog, terrified and meek. "harry...what did you do?" she asks, taking a step back from her friend-his eyes wide and expression slack, his hook and face splattered with blood.

saw a thing-which i just reblogged-got isnpired-turned it into a harry angst/horror thing, so-fuck yeah! Bloog god/madness curse~

#inspired by other artists #inspired by technoblade and the line between #disney descendants #harry hook descendants #blood #eyes #psychosis #harry isnt present during this moment in time-#hes just-gone #nothing but the voices and their eyes #horror #kinda #angst

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wildesqdreams · 27 days

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she's all that [slytherin version]

pairing - theodore nott x fem!reader.

summary - a relationship that started off as a surprise can't mean something good. especially when you're involved with a slytherin.

warnings - angst, grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: I AM NOT A HARRY POTTER FAN, but i do like theodore nott, so if i got smth wrong, don't come at me. i wrote this very fast, so it may be rushed :) this idea has been stuck in my mind for days, so i hope you enjoy. i will be not writing part2 and this will be my only fic about the harry potter universe!

theodore's fingers gently brushed up and down y/n's thigh while she was observing the scene in front of her.

teenagers from all the houses dancing. sweat and alcohol filling the air, the beat of the music pounding in the girl's ears. this was unusual for her, for both of them, to attend a crowded party. the couple would rather spend time alone, but they had promised their friends, well, mattheo and draco, since they were so eager to come.

y/n sighed and layed her head on her boyfriend's neck as the girl's fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck.

"you okay?" he whispered.

"mhm."

his lips pressed a kiss on her forehead, which made the smile on y/n's face grow even more.

she continued to lay in silence while theo chatted with mattheo and blaise, who were satted at the same table.

"i think y/n needs to play some beer pong or else she'll fall asleep," mattheo spoke.

"are you so desprete to lose?" the girl gave him a small smile.

"don't be so sure of yourself, y/n/n," the boy grinned.

she opened her mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted, "heyyy guyyyss," a drunk draco appeared in front of the table.

blaise scrunched his nose, "fucking hell, how much did you drink?"

but the question was left hanging as draco pulled out some money from his pocket, "beforew i fodget, hers the money you wonn."

theodore tensed, and his hand stopped on his girlfriend's thigh as he looked at the money. y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "you won a game or something?"

"it's nothing serious."

"c'mon bro," draco smiled, "give yourself some credut, yao got the girl on thhe hook!"

mattheo grumbled, "draco."

the girl turned her head to her boyfriend, "what's he talking about?"

theodore just gave her a small, tight smile, "he's just drunk," he kissed her cheek while slightly squeezing her thigh, "let's just go, you need some rest."

"theo, man, just ttake the money," the blonde boy put it on the table in front of him, "you compuleted the bet, consgrats."

y/n stiffened, when she felt the air tense around, "what bet?" her eyes were still locked on her boyfriend, "theo, what is he talking about?"

"just forget about it, bella."

draco started speaking, "tell her, don't bse a skank," he looked at the girl, "we made a bet, about the-

the boy beneath her tensed, "malfoy."

"theodore sleesping with yoou, we actually never thought that he'd succeeds, but look at our boyey."

y/n's heart stopped. she actually stopped breathing.

theodore nott was known as the player, but when he approached her, she never thought that it was for bad intentions. the girl was shocked, of course, that the famous theodore nott had interest in her, but never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would do such a horrible thing.

when they both arrived at hogwarts, they became good friends, but when he started hanging out with the slytherin group, he just disappeared and forgot about the girl. completely ignoring her. living his new life.

but years later in potions, when he came up to her with the question "do you want to be partners for the project?" with that slight smirk of his and those beautiful eyes, she never thought that he, theodore nott, would do that. y/n was happy that maybe she would get her friend back. at the end of the day she was just a girl who saw the best in others.

sooner or later, that would lead her to be shattered, like right now, when she felt her heart break.

"cara mia," theodore started, but the girl just removed herself from his lap, standing up.

her eyes landed on mattheo, who couldn't look at her, "you knew?"

silence.

after becoming closer with nott she befriended mattheo riddle, but as time went by, he became one of her best friends. but now staring at him, y/n realized it was all a lie.

she felt theodore gaze her arm, "y/n, let me explain," but she pulled it away, starting to walk away.

draco smiled, "heeey, no hard feelingss, it was jusft for fun."

but she ignored him while walking towards the exit.

this happened in films. in books. god, she was so naive. all those looks, all those late night talks, the way he ressured her when she felt low, the way he held her when she felt blue. the touches. kisses. secrets. the "i love you." it was all a show.

tears started to appear in her eyes, but she tried to hold them in. the girl wouldn't cry. not because of her stupidity, not because of him.

she heard the doors behind her slam shut while a voice was trying to get her attention, "y/n, please, let me explain."

he ran closer, "i swear it's not like that, i love you," he reached for her hand, "y/n, i swear it was a mist-"

the girl spun around, "were you involved with other girls while all this was going on?" she looked into his eyes.

"bella-"

"yes or no?"

but he didn't reply and she knew the answer. y/n bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to break in front of him, "you know what hurts the most? knowing that if the bet wasn't made, you would have never talked to me and still kept ignoring me, like the past two years."

"y/n, please-"

"fuck off, nott," and just like that she left him in the hallway. left him with her heart, that, once again, was broken. broken by the boy that made her feel everything. that made her feel pure happiness, who made her feel at home.

but it all was a lie. it all was a fucking bet. and y/n y/l/n was just a game.

#harry potter #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #hogwarts #slytherin boys

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cupid-styles · 2 months

Note

omg bestieeeee i so need hocker h nd ballerina to talk and smooch !!!!! ngl i’m a sucker for protective and jealous h 🤭🤭🤭🤭 🐱

I feel like ive made you guys wait way too long for this one gvkdfjgkf

a continuation of this blurb! (and sort of this one)

word count: 2.3k (we had a lot of ground to cover)

content warnings: minor mentions of smut, slight angst but all is fixed by the end, not ramadan friendly

main masterlist | hockey h masterlist

talk to me

. . .

Two weeks.

Two weeks of radio silence from Y/N.

Two weeks of over-thinking everything he did that night.

Two weeks of Harry drunk texting her on lonely nights.

please just tell me if you hate me

im so sorry

ill leave you alone if its what you want, I just need to know

Each and every time, Y/N read his messages, eyes scanning over the words, and locked her phone.

The truth is, she doesn't know what she wants from him, if anything. She doesn't know why she felt so attracted to him that night — she was tipsy, not drunk, and in complete control of her actions. She never hooked up with people in public — no messy makeouts, but she certainly never let anyone finger her in the hallway of a bar.

The entire thing was completely unlike her. Maybe that's what scared her the most.

Deep down, she wanted to reply to him, but she didn't even know what to say. She didn't want him to leave her alone — maybe that was selfish, but she liked knowing he was at least a little okay. She'd even been keeping secret tabs on the hockey team. They had won their past two games, but Harry had been thrown out in the most recent one for unsportsmanlike conduct. Apparently, he'd gotten into a fight with one of the players on the other team.

Admittedly, that worried her, but she didn't want to be his babysitter. On top of that, the spring showcase was this weekend, and she'd thrown every last bit of her energy into rehearsing and practicing to make sure her performance would be absolutely flawless.

She didn't have the time — or mental capacity — to worry about Harry right now.

. . .

"You look like an idiot."

Harry rolls his eyes as he adjusts the collar on his button down for the third time. James and his girlfriend Melanie had helped him with ironing it out so it looked presentable enough on his body. Anything he ever did rarely called for slacks and button up shirts, but Melanie advised him to look polished and put-together for tonight.

He wasn't in a place to reject her advice.

The other teammates that James lived with weren't quite as kind. Stephen, a sophomore defenseman who was only on the team for the perks of sleeping with every girl he could get his hands on, wouldn't stop throwing sarcastic comments Harry's way.

"Shut up, Stephen!" Melanie calls from the living room. She marches into James' bedroom as Harry smoothes out a few leftover wrinkles in his slacks, swallowing tightly. "When's the last time you cared about something besides fucking random girls? At least Harry has some direction in his life."

"I'm just saying, the girl's been ignoring him for weeks. She's gonna laugh in his face."

"Leave!" Melanie exclaims, batting him on the shoulder. Stephen lets out a yelp of pain and Harry smirks, despite the anxiety throbbing in his chest. "You're not helping! Get out!"

Reluctantly, Stephen rolls his eyes as he follows Melanie's orders and leaves the room. She sighs and comes up from behind Harry before flashing him a hopeful grin.

"You look great, H. I think this is a really sweet gesture."

He nibbles on his bottom lip as he turns to face her. "Okay, but what if Stephen's dumbass is right? She could call security on me and have me removed."

Melanie gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, it's a possibility. But isn't it better to go down fighting?"

He shrugs.

"You said ballet is her everything. It's her entire life. Show her that you're willing to integrate yourself into that."

"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "Yeah, you're right."

"I know I am." she grins. "Okay, let's get you over there. Don't forget the flowers you picked up!"

. . .

30 minutes later, Harry can't stop shifting uncomfortably as he sits in an aisle seat in the campus auditorium at Y/N's spring showcase.

The massive bouquet of flowers in his lap keep making his nose run and he feels like he's being suffocated by the buttons on his shirt that go all the way up to his neck. Best of all, according to the show program, Y/N isn't scheduled to go on until the very end. She mentioned to him once that being placed as the finale act is the best and biggest compliment, and he can't fight the bit of pride that thrums in his heart.

For an hour, he sits there, fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt and pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he waits for Y/N to go on. He sits through mediocre singing showcases and even a violin solo that almost puts him to sleep, if not for the older man clearing his throat next to him. Melanie and James even text him during the intermission to see how it's going, but he doesn't have much to report back.

Finally, the show comes to a close and her name is announced, following by the title of the French piece of music she's dancing to. His heart throbs in his chest — he's so nervous for her, especially knowing she hurt her ankle just a few weeks back. But the second she graces the stage, she's a vision of beauty, strength, and delicacy all at the same time. It's enough to take Harry's breath away.

As he sits there watching her, he doesn't move a muscle. Not for a single jump, spin, or step. He doesn't know anything about ballet — not aside from what Y/N has told him — but in that moment, he realizes that he'd be willing to learn every little thing there is to know if it meant she let him back into her life.

She's gorgeous. She offers a flawless performance and the second she's finished, a look of relief washes over her face as she takes a subdued bow, her pretty eyes widening when she sees all the people — Harry included — standing and applauding her.

For Y/N, the hard part was over. For Harry, it had just begun.

. . .

Y/N is elated to have a moment of silence after her performance.

With the dressing room door shut behind her, she lets out a long, deep breath. The dance she'd been driving herself crazy over for months was finally over.

And yet, for some reason, she feels empty.

She shoves it down as sits, eager to get her pointe shoes off. She's ready to shed her costume and get into sweatpants and head home. She knows the rest of the performers are heading out to a party tonight, but she's exhausted.

She's sorting through the bag of clothes she brought when there's a soft knock at the door. She knows she only has around 20 minutes to get out before the janitorial staff starts cleaning, so she rises with a sigh, unlocking the door and opening it.

"I'll be done soon, I just need to change—"

It's not the janitor, though.

It's Harry. Standing there stiffly in a starchy button down with a huge bouquet of flowers that almost encompass the width of his broad shoulders.

"What are you doing here?" she blurts without thinking.

"I came to watch you perform," he replies gently. His throat bobs as he hands her the flowers. "These are for you."

"You didn't watch me." she snorts with a shake of her head. She hasn't accepted the bouquet yet.

"Yes, I did," he instantly fires back, "What, do you wanna see my ticket for proof? I was in seat F34, next to an old man who kind of smelled like soup, and he kept clearing his throat and it was really annoying but I didn't care because I came to see you, and I'd sit through hours of bullshit to watch you dance."

Harry can't read the blank expression of her face, but he takes it as a step in the right direction when she takes the flowers from him. She blinks as she glances past him and then steps aside, motioning for him to come in.

"I have to get my shit together and leave soon, so... just sit in here."

He nods. He's hesitant to allow himself to relax since he's not sure if he's in the clear yet. She closes the dressing room door behind her and places the bouquet on her vanity.

"I need to change," she says, spinning around to face him. "Close your eyes."

He chuckles until he sees the serious expression on her face. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really."

"But... I— y'know—"

"Just turn the fuck around, Harry."

He does as he's told, shutting his eyes as he listens to her roll her tights down and step out of her leotard. One day, if she let him, he'd be more than happy to do that for her — not even in a sexual way, but he knows how tiring it can be to take off his own gear after a long game. He thinks it would be nice to be there for her.

"Okay, you're good," she murmurs. She's stuffing her things in her tote bag when he bats his eyes back open.

"Are you meeting up with anyone after this? I'm sure your friends came to see you, but I just wanted to maybe talk and... y'know, clear the air a bit." Harry says, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. Y/N furrows a brow as she analyzes his body language. She doesn't think she's actually seen him look anxious before.

"Um... no," she says with a shake of her head before quickly revising her answer, "No, I mean, I'm not meeting up with anyone and no one came to see me. Except you, I guess."

"Wait, really?"

She sighs as she pauses the process of gathering her things. "Really, Harry."

He swallows tightly. They're silent for a moment as she grabs her jacket and throws it over her shoulders.

"Come over and we'll talk. I borrowed my friend Matt's car for the night but— yeah, you can follow me to my place or whatever. And I can't promise I'll be awake for much longer but I think clearing the air could be... good."

A rush of relief makes its way through Harry's body.

"Okay. Yeah, let's do that."

. . .

"I never said it, but you were flawless tonight."

Y/N laughs breathily as she settles onto her couch, a cup of sleepy time tea in her hand. Harry rejected her offer for one (his response had been, "Y/N, do I look like someone who drinks tea with a sleeping bear on it?") but he'd be lying if he said it didn't at least smell good.

"I fucked up on one of my jetés — I'll get yelled at for it on Monday, but otherwise I'm decently content with the performance."

"Well, you couldn't tell," Harry replies, "Seriously. You were perfect."

Her cheeks warm and she stares down at her tea. Her legs are sprawled out in front of her while Harry sits on the other edge of the couch, giving her plenty of room to stretch out.

"So... clearing the air."

Harry clears his throat and nods, prepared to embark on the speech he'd been practicing in his head for weeks. But then, she speaks.

"I'm sorry for running out on you and ignoring you," she says, keeping her gaze down in her lap. "That wasn't... I'm not the best person. I'm bad at feelings and I use ballet as a crutch. I figure it's the one thing I'm really, exceptionally good at, and that should give me a pass in life but I know that's not true. I can't just go around treating people like shit because I'm... scared."

"What are you scared of?" Harry asks through furrowed brows. "I'm sorry if I stepped out of line that night, I should've been better—"

"You didn't. You were great. You did everything perfectly," she replies with a shake of her head. Her response surprises him, but he tries to hide the shock on his face. "I'm scared because you're you. You're a hotshot hockey player and, besides this showcase, you're the only other thing I've thought about these past few weeks. That's horrifying for me."

"Is this...?" Harry attempts to roll his lips into a thin line, preventing a smirk from bursting onto his face. "Is this a very Y/N way of telling me that you like me?"

She groans, as if it's the worst thing to ever happen to her, and it makes Harry laugh.

"Don't laugh at me!" she exclaims. That only makes Harry cackle even louder as he slowly crawls over to her, taking her warm cup of tea out of her hands and placing it on the coffee table.

"You're cute when you're exasperated." he murmurs. She pouts and his eyes crinkle with a grin as he peels her shaky hands away from her face.

"You're the one exasperating me."

"I know," he replies lowly, licking his lips as his face hovers over hers, "I like it."

"This isn't us agreeing to date, by the way." she quickly tacks on. He issues out a mhm as he leans forward, testing the waters, and pressing a light kiss to her nose. "We need to take it slow. Like, painfully slow. Or else I'll freak out and run away again."

"Whatever you want." he mumbles, kissing her right cheek. "I mean it."

"And you can't just overwhelm me whenever you feel like it."

He laughs and kisses her left cheek, then her forehead.

"Okay. Any other demands?"

He stops pasting kisses to her face then, instead choosing to simply loom his lips over hers. He can feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest and watches as she swallows nervously.

"No," she finally whispers. "Just kiss me."

And so he does.

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humaforever · 1 year

Link

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Descendants (Disney Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harriet Hook & Harry Hook, Harry Hook/Uma Characters: Harriet Hook, Harry Hook, Uma (Disney), Gil (Disney: Descendants) Additional Tags: Angst, Sad, Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Crying, Loneliness Summary:

Harry finally breaks down from Umas absence

#Harriet hook #harry hook #huma #Harry's sad #angst #fanfiction

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munson-blurbs · 8 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

Summary: Still questioning your mothering abilities, you finally agree to take a pregnancy test. But when you run into an unexpected familiar face, it leads to some intimate conversations.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), angst, misunderstanding, mention of alcohol consumption, nausea, Reader takes a pregnancy test, mention of menstrual periods/tampons, panic attack, use of medication (prescribed), dirty talk, mutual masturbation, breeding kink, choking, submissive!Reader, mention of public sex (this chapter has a lot so please let me know if I missed something!)

WC: 10.1k

A/N: Thank you to @pastel-pillows, @corroded-hellfire, and @vintagehellfire for beta reading and helping with some dialogue. Y'all make me a horny better writer.

Chapter 17/20

Divider credit to @saradika Harris's card credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers

It’s been one week since you’ve seen Eddie. The phone is silent on the hook, regardless of how strongly you will it to ring.

A wave of nausea ripples through you and has you lunging for the Saltines box on the coffee table. It isn’t unusual for you to feel sick when you’re anxious, and this entire situation definitely has you on-edge. The Jerry Springer audience chants his name from the TV set, though you can barely pay attention to the brawl that’s about to occur.

One week ago, you and Eddie broke up. One week ago, you realized you might be carrying his baby. One week ago, you began what you’d dubbed Self-Pity Spring Break, which was essentially a week of you wallowing in misery and ignoring the nagging question that constantly infiltrates your thoughts.

The movement for the crackers allows you to get a whiff of the pajamas you’d been living in. You’d convinced yourself there was no need to shower since you were barely leaving your apartment, but the odor emanating from your clothes—and your skin—says otherwise. You resignedly stand up and grab a towel from the hall closet, scowling at the box of tampons that’s seemingly taunting you.

Fine, you silently relent, I’ll get a test today.

There’s a forceful knock on the door, and your heart leaps. Eddie. Eddie’s here, we can talk and figure this out–

“Hey, Hermit, you alive in there?” It’s Jess, speaking even as she knocks.

“Coming, coming,” you grumble, not even trying to feign excitement. Maybe it’s better that it’s not Eddie; you’re not sure what you’d even say.

“Jeez, you look awful,” Robin comments, clamping her lips together when Jess shoots her a glare. “Sorry.”

“You’re not wrong,” you mutter. You haven’t looked in the mirror in days, not wanting to confront the reflection staring back at you. Fingertips greasy with old potato chip residue, you wipe them on your pajama pants and sigh. “I feel like shit, too.”

Jess grabs your hand and gives it a little squeeze. “C’mon, let’s get you some wine,” she says kindly, already padding towards the kitchen in search of an open bottle. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

You shake your head, throat dry. “I, um, I shouldn’t.” An unspoken plea floats from your lips, begging her not to ask further questions, but you know better than to get your hopes up.

She stops in her tracks, swiveling back in your direction. Her eyebrows pinch together, creasing in the middle. “No.” She waits for the punchline, and when there isn’t one, she envelops you in a hug. “Oh, honey.”

You feel another gentle hand on your back as Robin’s palm rubs comforting circles between your shoulder blades. You can’t pinpoint the moment she became one of your close friends, too; it happened naturally as the relationship between her and Jess became more serious and they spent more time together. Yet it feels as though she’s always been an integral part of your life, and you couldn’t be more thankful, especially in moments like this one.

“I don’t…I haven’t taken a test yet,” you admit bashfully, blinking away rogue tears, “but I’m super late. Like, almost two weeks late.”

Robin scrunches her face, unsure of her response but plunging ahead anyway. “Does Eddie…”

You shake your head. “No, and I’m not telling him either way.” The vitriol in your voice is biting, and both of your friends are taken aback by your anger. “He said that taking care of Harris was too much for me to handle; you think he wants to raise a whole other kid with me?”

“Okay, okay,” Jess softly interrupts your tirade, not needing to hear your break-up story for the fourth time. “First things first: you gotta take a test. Do you have one here?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Then Robs and I will go with you to the pharmacy.”

“I don’t wanna go,” you whine, sounding more like Harris than ever.

Jess sighs. “You’re leaving this apartment whether you like it or not.” She motions towards her girlfriend. “She’s stronger than she looks, so we will use force if we have to.”

“Fine.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can I at least shower first?”

“Please,” Jess mutters, grateful that she didn’t have to make the suggestion herself.

The shower water is scalding hot, but you don’t have the energy to fiddle with the knob until it’s a decent temperature. Instead, you stand underneath the stream and idly sway back-and-forth. You grab the Dial bar from the soap tray, lathering your body and taking good care to scrub under your arms. The suds slide down and swirl around the drain before disappearing entirely. You can only wish they took your problems with them.

You dry off as quickly as you can, throwing on the first pair of sweatpants you can find and a faded concert t-shirt from when you saw Joan Jett perform in ‘89. Dragging your tired body back out to where your friends are waiting, you grab a jacket out of the closet, stomach turning as soon as you put your arms through the sleeves. You haven’t worn this since last weekend, and the smell of Eddie’s cologne still faintly lingers. It’s like he’s there wrapping himself around you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Except he’s not here, his scent only serving as a painful reminder of what you used to have.

If he was here right now, what would he be doing? Cursing the broken condom that led to this chaos? Berating himself for getting another woman pregnant? And not just any woman; this would be the second woman he’d knocked up who’d failed to be a decent mother. This time; however, he’d know about your shortcomings before the baby could even arrive, before it could develop fingers and toes and have its own little heartbeat…

With a heavy sigh, you drag your feet out the door and into Jess’s car. Nausea creeps up on you the closer you get to your destination, and for the first time in your life, you pray it’s only carsickness.

Murphy’s Law states that “anything that can go wrong, will go wrong,” and that’s exactly what happened to Eddie this week.

First, he’d all but gotten confirmation that you were overwhelmed at the prospect of being a family, of being his partner, and eventually being a parent to Harris. Your silence when he’d asked if it was “too much” was deafening. He’d thought about calling you, even picked up the phone and dialed the first few digits on more than one occasion, but ultimately hung up. There’s no sense in trying to force you into a life you have no interest in, no matter how badly it hurts him to be without you.

Then, this morning, Harris had woken up at 6:30 AM, howling in pain. Eddie had nearly fallen out of bed at the sudden burst of sound, rushing to his son’s side to figure out the issue.

“My ear!” Harris wailed, pressing a tiny palm to the side of his head. “It hurts so bad!”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie murmured. He tried to pull Harris’s hand from his ear to get a better look, but quickly stopped when the boy cried out in agony, rivaling a Wilhelm Scream.

He called the pediatrician and got the earliest appointment available, arriving at the office before they’d even opened. The receptionist had given him a strange look as he barreled through the doors, Harris hoisted in his arms.

Forty-five arduous minutes later, the doctor took one look inside Harris’s ear canal and diagnosed him with an ear infection, scribbled out a barely-legible prescription for antibiotics, and sent the Munsons on their way.

Now, Eddie slams the sedan door shut as he walks into the pharmacy for the second time today, mumbling about his shit luck. He’d brought Harris to Wayne’s trailer after dropping off the prescription once they informed him that it would be a two-hour wait. There was no sense in forcing the poor kid to sit around the drugstore when he desperately needed a nap, Eddie reasoned, ignoring his own exhaustion. He makes up his mind right then and there that, in addition to whatever bubblegum-flavored concoction he’s picking up for Harris, he’s getting a pack of Camels. The stress is just too damn much for Nicorette to handle.

He makes a beeline for the pharmacist, nodding along as she explains that the medicine should be taken twice daily with food.

“Do you have any questions?” she asks patiently, a kind smile on her lips.

“N-No,” Eddie stammers, the paper bag crinkling in his grasp. “Thanks,” he throws out haphazardly, already hyper-focused on securing the cigarettes. He can practically taste the tobacco on his tongue, smoke filling his lungs. He’ll quit again tomorrow, once all of this is–

“Is this it? EPT?” A familiar voice briefly grabs Eddie’s attention, but he quickly brushes it off. It’s a small town; everyone’s bound to recognize each other after a while.

It’s the response that truly draws him in, a timid, “y-yeah, I think so.”

Eddie swivels around, cigarettes long forgotten, peering down each aisle until he finds you. You’re standing with Robin Buckley—the voice he’d recognized earlier—and Jeff’s sister-in-law, Jess.

“Hi,” he blurts out, shoving his free hand in his pants pocket. His heart breaks at the defeated look in your eyes, swollen from days of crying. He wants to pull you in for a hug and feel your arms wrap around him, relishing in your safety.

It only takes a half-second for his gaze to drop to the pink box clenched in your death grip, a pathetic attempt to hide it from him. “Wh-What’s that?” He’s suddenly all-too aware that you’re all standing in the Family Planning section, and unless science has made some extraordinary progress lately, it’s unlikely that Jess and Robin need anything here. “Are you—”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” You regain as much composure as you can. “But whatever I am, I can handle it by myself.” You’re unsure of the truth behind that statement, but you refuse to let him see you waver.

Eddie takes another step forward, removing his hand from his pocket and taking the test from you. You’re hesitant to relinquish it, but you ultimately concede.

“Let me pay for this, at least,” he says softly, not waiting for your reply before tucking it under his arm and heading to the cashier.

“Eddie—”

“You’ll take it at my place,” he continues as though you hadn’t just spoken his name, “and if you’re…if it’s…we’ll, uh, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

You shake your head. “I don’t need your help,” you protest, firmly but not unkindly. “Seriously, I’ve got this.” Be done with me. Just let me go, Eddie. Find someone who deserves your—and Harris’s—time.

Eddie places the test on the counter, digging into his wallet for the dingy MasterCard he keeps tucked away for emergencies. You cringe at the cost; if you’d known Eddie would insist on footing the bill, you would have chosen a cheaper option.

“I can take this at home. Robin and Jess will be with me,” you push on as the four of you leave the store. You turn to them for back-up, frowning when Robin gives you a tight smile and Jess shrugs.

“I…think you should take it at Eddie’s,” she offers, trying to ignore the death glare you’re sending her way.

“If you need us, just call, and we’ll pick you up,” Robin hurriedly adds, quickly squeezing your upper arm before the two of them leave you and Eddie alone.

Without thinking, Eddie’s hand slips into yours. Maybe it’s because you’re more scared than you’ve ever been in your life, maybe it’s because his gentle demeanor has breathed new life into your love for him, but you let him keep it there.

The hum of the sedan’s engine is the only sound until Eddie speaks again.

“How long have you known? Or, thought, I guess,” he asks, drumming his ringed fingers on the steering wheel.

You don’t want to answer truthfully, but you’re too tired to lie. “Since last week.”

“Last week?” He slams on the break, instinctively putting an arm in front of you to protect you from injury. No matter that your seatbelt had been clicked in place since you’d sat down. “Shit, sorry.” He clears his throat. “Like, before the trip? Or…”

“On the bus ride home,” you clarify, shame seeping through every pore. It had seemed so natural to keep this information to yourself, but now you just feel stupid for not letting him in earlier. The baby–if there even is a baby–is his, too.

Eddie breathes out a long sigh, followed by silence until he poses yet another question. “Does anyone else know?”

“Yeah, I rented out a billboard in Times Square,” you quip before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, that was bitchy.” Maybe you’re just trying to fool yourself, but you swear you see a faint smile on his lips. “Um, no. Just you, Jess, and Robin.”

He nods. “Harris’s at Wayne’s, so it’ll only be us.” Eight days ago, that statement would be associated with passion; punctuated with a grab of your ass, a kiss to your neck, fingers gliding over your breast. Your heart lurches with longing, but you shove it deep down. That’s what got us into this whole mess, you remind yourself.

Still, his grip on the gearshift as he throws the car in park has you internally shouting for him to grasp your knee in the same manner. You’re moving in slow motion, providing him with ample time to get out and open your door for you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, but when he extends his hand to help you up, you fight the urge to accept it. Whatever the results of this test are, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’d said that parenthood was too much for you to handle. And you refuse to selfishly burden their family with your inadequacy.

Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair, casually playing off the rejection, but you don’t miss the brief pained expression in the scrunch of his nose.

Neither of you utter a word as you walk up to his apartment, your footsteps echoing throughout the stairwell. His hands are trembling so violently that he drops the key in front of his door; it lands on the floor with a tiny ping.

“Y’okay?” It’s an absurd question, but you’re unsure what else you can possibly say.

“Um, no,” he admits with a terse laugh. “I went into Rite Aid to get medicine and came out with a possibly pregnant…” He almost says girlfriend, but stops himself just in time. “So, yeah, I’m far from okay.”

He finally manages to open the door, pushing it open so you can go in first. You stand in the living room, feet glued to the floor. Your legs are weak beneath you, threatening to give out at any moment.

“I can’t do this,” you mumble, words catching in your throat. Your vision goes blurry with tears. “I just…” you trail off, shaking your head incredulously. “We were so careful, and the condom went and broke that one time…”

Eddie’s palm cups your chin delicately, calloused skin grazing smooth. “Listen to me.” His voice is calm despite his body brimming with nerves, “what’s done is done, okay? You’re either having my baby, or you’re not.” My baby, my baby, my baby. As he says it, his gaze flits down to your stomach. “But we have to know.”

You nod, unable to fully accept the weight of his words. “Do you have, like, a paper cup or something for me to pee in?”

“Yeah.” He shuffles over to the small linen closet next to the bathroom and grabs a Dixie cup from a stack. “Did you want me to go in with you, or wait out here…I, um, don’t really know the protocol.”

You manage a tiny laugh at his candor, despite the unfavorable circumstances that brought you back to his home. “You can just wait out here,” you tell him. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Your heart skips a beat as you close the bathroom door, and lock it behind you. Eddie’s voice is muffled outside the door as he talks on the phone, ending the conversation with, “thanks, Old Man,” before you hear the soft click of the receiver being replaced on the hook.

You lay everything out on the countertop in front of you, scanning each object in disbelief. The words on the instruction sheet swim away, leaving only tidbits in their wake.

If two lines appear, this indicates a positive result. Call your doctor for further evaluation.

You read that line over and over. If two lines appear, you’re pregnant with your ex-boyfriend’s child. It’s going to take a lot more than an obstetrician to evaluate that chaos.

You pull down your pants, then your underwear, nestling the paper cup between your thighs. Eddie’s reminder replays in your head: what’s done is done.

It’s easier for him to say; it’s not his body, but the sentiment remains true. All you have to do now is find out exactly what you’ve done.

You gingerly drop the paper strip into the cup, watching as the control line begins to darken. The instructions advised you to wait twenty minutes for the results; according to the digital watch adorning your wrist, that will put you at 12:18 PM.

You don’t have to wait that long.

The familiar reddish tinge that stains the toilet paper is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. It almost seems too good to be true, so you take a fresh square and wipe again. This time, it’s even more pronounced.

An involuntary laugh that bubbles up from your throat, scaring even yourself. You can hear Eddie outside the door, stumbling over his feet to stand.

“Wh-What’s going on? What happened?” His hands twist the knob with no success. “Can I come in?”

“Y-Yeah,” you manage, smiling so wide you can barely speak, “I just got my period.”

There’s a long pause, then, “like…now?”

“Right now. At this very second,” you confirm, sending you into a fresh fit of giggles. You grab a tampon from your bag with far too much enthusiasm, unlocking the door once you’ve washed your hands and put yourself back together.

“We can still wait for the result, if you want,” you tell him. A strand of hair falls in front of his eyes when he nods in agreement; without thinking, you brush it away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” you mumble. You feel yourself shrink inwards, palpably embarrassed of the intimacy of your slip-up.

“Do it again.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

“Do it again,” he repeats, and when your fingertips make contact with his hair, gently tucking it behind his ear, his own hand slides into place against your cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

You say nothing, letting your body language speak for you in the slight upward tilt of your head as your lips find his, noses almost colliding in haste. Your hand slips down to his bicep as you accept his touch, parting your lips to allow his tongue to enter while your own breathy moan exits.

The sound has him tugging you closer, grabbing the hem of your shirt and inadvertently pinching a bit of skin in his hurry. The sudden twinge of pain snaps you out of the moment, and you take a step back.

“We can’t…” You take a deep breath, gathering the thoughts that have been jumbled by his touch. “We’re not together anymore,” you finish dumbly, cracks splintering through your heart as you hear it aloud. Not together.

Eddie’s voice is hardly above a whisper. “I know.” But his thumb traces over the plush of your lips in memorization. “Can I ask you something before you go?”

You contemplate it, rolling it over your tongue and finally relenting when you remember you’re still waiting for the official test result. “Sure.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s hurt in his voice, and more than a hint of anger, though you certainly can’t blame him.

“I didn’t want to worry you in case it was nothing…which it was,” you hastily add, needing to hold on to the lightness of the false alarm.

“No, I’m not talking about that,” he rebuts, continuing when you cock your head in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me that taking care of Harris was too much for you?” Realization floods his body, carefully curated thoughts giving way to a horrified stream of consciousness. “Or was I too much?”

Bewilderment raises your eyebrows. “I never said that taking care of Harris was too much for me. You did.”

“Me?” He scoffs, pushing his body back with a slight bend at the hips, hands shoved into his pants pockets, rings peeking out over their seams. “No, I didn’t. I asked you, and you never gave a straight answer. Any answer, really.”

You think back to that confrontation, trying to remember the inflection in his voice: ‘s too much for you, isn’t it? In your insecurity-laden state, you’d assumed that it was a declaration of your shortcomings; now, you’re able to see what he’d actually meant.

He was trying to reach out, his own self-doubts bleeding through, but you were so consumed with all of the ways you’d failed him and Harris that you couldn’t see it.

“I…” Your brain is scrambled, unable to catch a single thought. You inhale for three, lungs expanding under your ribcage. The exhale is slower; you need all the time you can to collect yourself. “I messed up so badly…the donut…the elevator…the market…”

Spots dance across your vision as your breathing becomes more rapid and shallow. All you can picture is Eddie’s fear when Harris ran off; your chest is heavy with the same sinking feeling that as when you’d turned around and he was missing.

Your legs wobble beneath you, no longer attached to your body, but a separate entity.

Eddie’s voice is an echo in a tunnel, loud but far away. “I got you,” you hear him say as he leads you to the couch. Your feet move robotically, left right left right until you’re sitting on the lumpy cushion, the same one you’d gotten well acquainted with on that fateful August night.

Donut—elevator—market. Donut—elevator—market. An internal chant that served as a reminder of your failures. “I’m right here, okay? ‘M not going anywhere.” The couch dips a bit as he sits next to you. He hesitates for a split second before his hand is making small, concentric circles on your upper back.

Safety’s warmth crawls in as your physical and psychological worlds slowly merge. You’re in Eddie’s apartment, on his couch, next to him.

“Eddie…” you croak out, but he silences you with a shake of his head.

“Let me talk for a second. Please.” He sighs, not out of impatience, but as a means of gathering his thoughts. “You…you’re everything I ever wanted for myself and for my son. And, I’m gonna be real honest with you here, that scares the shit outta me.” A peal of disbelieving laughter accompanies his confession. “I shouldn’t have had you take him to the playground by yourself or leave you alone with him at the market. Not,” he hurriedly adds, ‘because of you, but because, sometimes, he needs the supervision of two people.” His hand drops from your back and lands on your own fingers, splayed on the couch next to him. “I think I just got so excited that I finally wasn’t parenting solo, y’know? And I relied on you too much.”

You wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You’re supposed to rely on me,” you counter. “That’s what partners do.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if I wasn’t acting like such a dick, you could’ve told me you felt overwhelmed. Partners tell each other those kinds of things, too.”

“You’re not a dick because you got upset that I lost Harris.” You roll your eyes, not wanting him to downplay his own emotions just to protect yours.

Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Maybe not,” he acquiesces, ‘but I was a dick when you bought him a donut in the morning, like it was the worst thing that kid’s ever eaten for breakfast.” You both smile at that, knowing full well that Eddie’s had to bribe his son with a Pop-Tart on more than one occasion. “And then you took him to the playground without me even having to ask, just so I could get some rest. And don’t even start in with me about the Great Elevator Meltdown of 1997, because we both know he just would’ve flipped out about something else.” He scoots a millimeter closer to you, wanting to bridge the gap between your bodies without barging past any boundaries. “He was tired and in a new place away from home. A tantrum was damn near inevitable.”

As much as you’d like to wallow in self-pity, you know that it’s true.

“Speaking of the playground,” he continues, “all I heard about for the rest of the weekend was how much fun he had with you.” He throws his voice up an octave to mimic Harris’s tone. “I had the BEST TIME with Ms. Sweetheart! She pushed me on the swing SO HIGH!”

The corners of your mouth tug upwards at the memory. “He said that?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, contemplating the next piece of information to divulge. “He, uh, also told me that you love me. Not a little, but a lot.” You watch as the tips of his ears turn scarlet, visible even underneath his layers of curls. “Not sure if that still stands.”

You let your knee gently knock into his, a sliver of an olive branch. “Do you want it to?”

“So fucking much.” It’s a plea, breathy and desperate. “I love you, too.”

You crack a small smile before teasing, “A little, or a lot?”

A ridiculous amount, he thinks. I wake up thinking about you, go to sleep thinking about you, and most of my day in-between is spent thinking about you, too. “A lot, baby. More than I ever thought I could.” His gaze doesn’t leave your lips, chocolate brown eyes drawing you in closer. “Before we…I just need to know. For Harris and for me.” He rubs his palms on his denim-clad thighs, hoping to push away his nerves. “Being in it for the long haul…is that what you want? Because if it’s not, I can’t…y’know…”

You know. You know he can’t muddle through a relationship that has a certain expiration date. You know he can’t bring you into his son’s life any more than he already has if you don’t plan to stick around.

“I’m in it for the long haul,” you tell him, relaxing as a smile overrides the anxiety previously etched into his features. “I’m just scared that I’ll fuck it all up. That I can’t be a good mom to Harris.” You realize too late what you just implied, but judging by Eddie’s unwavering expression, it’s unlikely that this is the first time he’s thought about you filling that position. “At the playground, um,” you fidget with your fingers, suddenly entranced by the ridges of your knuckles, “Harris said that he wants me to be his mommy, but you and Wayne told him not to ask me yet.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fist before flexing his fingers, rings gleaming in the lamplight. “And that freaked you out?” he supplies, noticeably shocked when you refute his assumption with a shake of your head.

“Not in the way you think,” you say, gnawing on your inner cheek. “He was just so excited, and I started thinking–”

“That was your first mistake,” he jokes, wincing overdramatically when you swat at his chest.

“I started thinking,” you continue, throwing him a playful glare, “that he’d eventually be let down by me, that you’d eventually be let down by me, and that both of you would regret ever meeting me.”

His face falls at your admission, eyes losing their sparkle as he recognizes your fear. He’s been there: anxious about not living up to Harris’s expectations; the inevitable fall from grace when he realizes his dad is flying by the seat of his pants when it comes to parenting. Yes, he knows the feeling all too well, and it shatters his heart that it weighs on you, too. And the fact that you hadn’t told him–hadn’t felt like you could tell him–forms a knot in his gut.

“Baby,” he murmurs. The warmth of his palms envelops your face as he rests them on your cheeks. “Oh, my sweet girl. Don’t you know that that will never happen?” He sighs at your downcast eyes. “I need to tell you a secret, but you have to promise you won’t get weird about it.”

That captures your attention. What does he mean by ‘weird’? Angry? Annoyed? Scared? “What?” you ask, extending the word with an abundance of caution.

“When you told me you might be pregnant…the thought of being responsible for another kid fuckin’ terrified me. But not,” he swallows, a huff of air sufficing for an incredulous laugh, “not the thought of having one with you.”

Your eyes widen, eyebrows practically reaching the edge of your hairline. His unspoken words reverberate in your head: I’m not scared of parenting with you. I’m not scared of whatever journey lies ahead, as long as you’re beside me. I’m not scared of loving you.

Without warning, you press your lips to his. Tangled, messy curls find their way into your fists as you draw nearer to each other in a blur of hands and mouths. Though he’d kissed you only moments earlier, Eddie treats this one like a novelty; a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

To your chagrin, he abruptly breaks the kiss. “Wait right here.” You scrunch your nose as he dashes into his room. You can hear him rummaging through drawers, swearing loudly before slamming it shut and jogging back to the sofa.

“This,” he announces, holding out a small paper bag, “is the reason I asked you to watch Harris at the market.”

You take it, curiosity sufficiently piqued by the air of mystery. Tipping it slightly, you feel a delicate chain snake into your palm. Dangling from the center is a tiny heart pendant.

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” Eddie explains, trying to gauge your expression. “I know it’s not, like, the fanciest jewelry. There’s no diamond or any—”

“I love it.” And you do. God, you do. You quickly bring it to your neck, fumbling with the clasp for a half-second before you feel his strong fingers atop your own.

“I got it,” he murmurs, and you shift slightly to give him a better vantage point.

He adjusts the heart so it’s centered just below your collarbone, lingering a beat longer than necessary before pulling away. “Perfect.” He clears his throat and offers an apologetic smile as he ruefully adds, “I have to get to Wayne’s and give Harris his medicine,” he explains, nodding towards the paper bag on his countertop.

“Eddie!”

“What?”

You laugh, fingers dancing across the prickled stubble along his angular jaw. “You should’ve told me that Harris was sick!” This whole time, you’d just assumed he’d been on a playdate, but now you have an explanation as to why Eddie was in the pharmacy and who the medication is for.

“It’s an ear infection,” Eddie says nonchalantly, standing up and stretching his back. “Besides, when I told Wayne that you were here—I didn’t tell him why, don’t worry,” he throws in for good measure, “he said, and I quote, ‘don’t come back here until you make things right with your girl.’”

Your girl. You’re still Eddie’s girl. “We probably should check on the test before we go.” It’s been soaking in the cup of urine for twenty-three minutes. Padding to the bathroom, you double, triple, and quadruple check the singular pink line. Not a second one in sight, and you breathe out a sigh of relief before cheerfully announcing. “Officially negative!”

Eddie’s still fixated on one word. “You, um, wanna come with me?”

“If that’s okay.” Feeling out boundaries, a toe timidly dipped into the water.

“‘Course it’s okay. Fuck, ‘m just so happy you’re mine again. Missed my girl so much.” He plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “Harris is gonna be so happy to see you.”

Happy might be too strong a word to describe Harris’s reaction when you walk through the door of Wayne’s trailer, squeaking hinges waking him from a restless sleep.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” His voice is thick with grogginess and disbelief. “What’re you doing here?” He clumsily wipes his eyes with his little fists, sweaty from fevered sleep.

You sit next to him on the couch, pushing his sweat-logged curls from his face. “Just came to check on you. I heard my favorite Munson wasn’t feeling well.”

Harris giggles, delighted to be so highly ranked. “Yeah, I got an ear ‘fection. But I just gotta take medicine for it and it’ll go away.”

“Got it right here.” Eddie holds up the bag. “Did you eat anything?”

Harris looks over at his grandfather, not yet awake enough to answer the question.

“Had some toast and jelly right before his nap. ‘Bout…half an hour ago?” Wayne confirms.

Eddie nods, taking the bottle of amoxicillin out of the paper bag and giving it a good shake. You watch as he unscrews the cap and meticulously pours the medicine just to the dosage line. “Here ya go, Har Bear,” he says, walking over to the sofa where his son is half-sitting, half laying. “This’ll make you feel better, okay?”

That’s not a strong enough sell for Harris, who promptly crosses his arms over his chest, wrinkles his nose, and shakes his head in protest. “Yuck.”

“C’mon, please?” Eddie’s face falls in desperation and exhaustion at his son’s refusal. “It’s bubblegum fl–”

“No!” The ferocity in Harris’s objection could rattle the entire trailer.

You take Eddie’s hand and squeeze it reassuringly. “Can he have a cookie?” you whisper in his ear, hopefully low enough that Harris can’t overhear.

“What?” There’s no way you’re going to reward his behavior with a treat, right?

“Just trust me.”

He can do that. “I think Wayne keeps some in the pantry.”

Sure enough, you find an open package of Oreos, the same off-brand kind that Eddie had brought over on Thanksgiving, right on the top shelf. You slide the plastic shell from the case and pull out a cookie, carefully breaking it in half over the sink to avoid spraying crumbs all over the floor.

“Hey, Har, can I tell you my secret trick?” Harris perks up a bit at this, though he doesn’t give an outright answer. “Okay, so you take the medicine, and then you pop the cookie in your mouth super fast so you barely taste it.”

He considers this, mulling it over silently before warily agreeing and holding out his hand. Eddie gives him the medicine-filled cap and holds his breath that your trick will work.

Harris takes the medicine in one grimacing gulp, and as soon as he swallows it down, you give him half of the cookie. “Go, go, go!” you chant excitedly, grinning as he shoves the treat in his mouth, assessing whether it successfully masked the chalky aftertaste.

“Well?” you ask earnestly, heart beating in your chest as you await the outcome.

Harris purses his lips in contemplation, fueling your anxiety. After what seems like decades, he returns your smile tenfold, cookie crumbs wedged between his teeth.

“I did it!” he chirps with a level of enthusiasm that has you and Eddie doubting he’s even sick. “I like that trick.”

You feel Eddie’s arm snake around your waist as he grabs your side in appreciation. “You can have the other half when you take the next dose,” you tell the little boy, lovingly ruffling his curls. “C’mon, let’s get you home so Grampa can get some rest before work.”

The laugh lines around Wayne’s eyes crease in gratitude as Eddie scoops his son into his arms and thanks his uncle for the childcare. You grab the medicine bottle with the hand not holding the Oreo half, echo Eddie’s statement, and close the door behind you.

Eddie buckles Harris in and starts the car, peering through his rearview mirror while the engine grumbles to life. “Y’good back there, Har?”

“Mhm.” There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before he speaks again. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me a story? Like a made-up one from your head?”

“Sure.” You lean back into the seat, thinking of a plot that will last until you get dropped off at your place.

“Once upon a time,” you begin, donning your best narrator voice, “in a tiny little village, there lived three princes who were fighting to be the village’s next king. The villagers didn’t know how to choose between them; after all, they loved all three princes dearly—”

“Daddy’s turn!” Harris interrupts, pointing at Eddie, hands clapping together in gleeful anticipation for the game he’s created.

“Uh, okay,” Eddie stammers, clearly caught off-guard by the request. “So instead of doing a normal vote, the villagers decided to have them battle the evil, ugly troll that lived up on the hill.”

“Now, Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Each prince would try and defeat the troll, and whoever won would be king,” you continue the story, improvising as you go. “The princes packed up their shields and swords—”

“Daddy!”

“And rode their horses up the hill until they reached the troll’s house.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with a mischievous glimmer as he adds, “but when they got there, the troll refused the typical duel. Instead, he insisted on battling the only way he knew how: a competition of throwing balls into laundry baskets.”

Harris cackles at this but doesn’t ask you to take over, so Eddie keeps talking. “The princes were like, ‘um, this isn’t what we prepared for,’ but the hideous, grotesque troll didn’t care.”

“Ms. Sweetheart!”

You have no idea where this story is headed, but Harris is having the time of his life, so you plunge along. “The troll bared his teeth and hissed to try and frighten the princes, but it didn’t work. They each picked up the ball and tossed it into the laundry baskets, easy-peasy lemon squeezy.” You pause there to see if Harris calls on Eddie, but he doesn’t make a peep. “The troll was so surprised at their skills that—”

This time, Eddie doesn’t wait for his son’s instruction and takes the story over. “—that he stumbled backwards off of the edge of the hill, plummeting into the piranha-infested waters below. The end,” he finishes proudly.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. “Eddie!” you hiss, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. “You’re gonna traumatize the poor kid!”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, not even bothering to mask his laughter. “He’s out like a light.”

Sure enough, you twist around in your seat to see Harris sound asleep, head tilted against the headrest and mouth agape. A speck of drool collects in the corner of his lips, but he remains undisturbed.

“Medicine must’ve kicked in,” you agree, shifting back to look out your window. The trees flourish with leaves in various shades of green, a colorful promise replacing winter’s barrenness. Hawkins may not be the picturesque postcard town, but there is still some beauty in it.

“Yeah, about that.” Eddie’s brown eyes dance as he steals a glimpse of you before returning his attention to the road. “Do me a favor, ‘kay? Never worry about your parenting skills again.”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a brief moment. “Oh, you mean the trick?”

Eddie nods, tongue unconsciously swiping over his suddenly dry lips.

“That’s just something Grandma did to get me to take medicine as a kid,” you shrug. “She usually gave us Nilla Wafers, but it looks like Oreos make a worthy substitute.”

He doesn’t respond to that directly, simply rests a hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, the hangnail on his thumb scratches against your cotton sweatpants as he tenderly rubs the spot. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to officially take on the ‘mom’ role in his life,” he starts, even and reassuring, “but whenever you are? God, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ best.” He pauses for a beat before adding, “Y’already are.”

With Harris still snoozing in his booster seat, you press a kiss to Eddie’s jawline, just below his earlobe. Your nose smushes into his cheek, tickled by the stubble of a few days of missed shaving. It will take more than a compliment to quell your anxiety, but you refuse to ignore the way it ignites a small fire within you. Self-assurance is a flame, soft and flickering, burning from the inside out. Insecurity is a rigid block of ice, one that has been poking at you for years, but it begins melting against the blooming bundle of warmth.

Wednesday’s post-tutoring pizza party had an extra guest this week. Wayne helps himself to a pepperoni slice, humming some Bob Dylan to himself as he brings his plate to the table. Harris eagerly climbs into his lap, heaving a dramatic sigh as he plops down and steals his grandfather’s pizza slice. His ear infection has cleared up, thanks to the amoxicillin and your cooke trick.

“Hey!” Wayne barks out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “What’re you doing?”

Ever unfazed, Harris works on a mouthful of mozzarella cheese. “Eating,” he replies nonchalantly, a dot of sauce staining his nose. He barely swallows his giant bite before starting on another.

You giggle, handing Wayne a new slice before sliding into the chair next to Eddie’s. “I’m really glad you could have dinner with us tonight,” you tell the older man before tucking into your meal. Wayne had decided to cut back to part-time at the plant, citing older age and the desire to spend more time with his grandson, leaving his Wednesday evenings wide open.

Eddie’s the only one who hasn’t started eating yet, too busy soaking in the sight in front of him. He’s sitting around a table with his son, his father figure, and his girlfriend. The three people he loves more than anything in the world. He watches as Wayne presses a kiss to Harris’s messy curls, the little boy giggling into his piece of pizza. He watches as you lean over to wipe the sauce off of Harris’s nose with a napkin, shrieking happily when he sticks out his tongue and licks the side of your hand. “Gotcha, Ms. Sweetheart!” the little boy cackles, but while he’s distracted in his victory, you manage to clean his face.

This is happiness in its purest, most unfettered form. Maybe it won’t always be this easy, but he realizes now that he’s willing to fight like hell to get through the hard times if it means having more of these moments.

“Eds?” your soft, inquiring voice tugs him from his thoughts. “You feeling okay?” Your fingertips find his under the table, concerned by his preoccupation.

“‘M good,” he reassures you, holding your hand and using the other to fold his slice. Once again, the room is filled with silly banter and kind conversation.

Yeah, he’s good.

You expect the three Munsons to leave altogether, so when Wayne tells Eddie that he can take care of Harris for the evening, you’re caught off-guard.

This apparently deviates from Eddie’s plan, too, because he cocks his brow at his uncle. “Y’sure, Old Man?”

“Sure as sh—sugar,” Wayne says, catching himself at the last second. He scratches at the whiskers on his chin, an itchy reminder to pick up some new disposable razors at Melvald’s. “What good’s all this free time if I don’t spend it with my grandson?” He holds out his hand and Harris takes it eagerly.

“Bye, Daddy! Bye, Ms. Sweetheart!” he chirps, already pulling Wayne towards the door.

“Hold on,” Eddie pipes up, forehead creased in feigned agitation. “Let me give you a kiss goodbye.” His jaw drops when Harris shakes his head in defiance; this time, he’s genuinely shocked.

“I want a squish kiss. From you an’ Ms. Sweetheart.” Harris tells him, eyes darting between the two of you.

You turn to Eddie, feeling like you’re missing a crucial piece of this puzzle. “What’s a squish kiss?” you ask quietly, but Harris still manages to overhear.

“‘S when Daddy kisses one cheek, an’ you kiss the other!” he informs you, clapping his hands together giddily. “An’ it squishes my face, like thith.” The last word is obscured with a lips when he pushes his cheeks together to emphasize his point.

You walk over to him and crouching down to his level. “I can definitely do a squish kiss,” you say, wincing slightly when he excitedly squeals in your ear.

Eddie counts down from his other side. “Squish kiss incoming in three…two…one!” Leaning in simultaneously, you both feel the apples of Harris’s cheeks as he smiles, giggling again when you and Eddie pull back with an exaggerated, mwah!

“Now we gotta give Ms. Sweetheart a squish kiss!” the little boy announces. Heat creeps up your neck, and you silently place the ball in Eddie’s court. Before this, he’d always been cognizant to avoid displays of affection in front of his son. And while you’re not opposed to getting a squish kiss from them, you don’t want to put any unnecessary pressure on him.

“You heard the man.” Eddie’s response is near-immediate, wasting no time directing Harris to your left side and shuffling in closer to you. “Count us down, Har.”

“Three…two…one!” Harris smushes his whole face into yours, little nose pressing into your cheek before his lips can. Eddie’s contribution is much less aggressive, but there’s ample love in both kisses.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Harris skips back to his grandpa. Wayne just throws Eddie a wink as he grabs his car keys from the hook and closes the door behind him.

Eddie puts his hands up in surrender when you turn to him, the sounds of his uncle’s and son’s respective footsteps gradually diminishing as they walk down the hall.

“I swear, I didn’t ask Wayne to take care of Harris tonight,” he says with a laugh, looping his pointer finger across his chest to make an X over his heart. Lithe fingertips broach your waist, drawing you closer into him. “Not that I’m complaining, though…”

“Me either,” you murmur, lips finding their way to his collarbone, sucking so harshly that they threaten to leave a bruise. Your own fingers fumble to unbuckle his belt; a difficult feat considering your eyes are watching the vein that runs along his neck, beckoning you to mark it next. You crave the thrill of make-up sex, to allow hunger and desire to fuel your every move.

You grimace at the cool sensation of his rings against the bare skin of your stomach, a painful reminder of one frustrating barrier. “Fuck, my period,” you grumble, taking a small step back. He doesn’t let you go far; instead, he grabs your ass and pulls you towards him. “Eds,” you whine, trying to focus on your words rather than the way he’s beginning to strain against his pants zipper, “did you hear what I said?”

Eddie nods, tongue prodding at your mouth so he can kiss you deeply. “We can put down a towel,” he mumbles into you.

You sigh, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you, quelling the fierce ache settling between your legs, but it seems like Mother Nature is making up for the two weeks she’d lagged behind. Still, you don’t want to leave your boyfriend turned on without any reprieve; he’s practically quivering with anticipation to explore you already.

“C’mere,” you whisper in his ear, though it’s wholly unnecessary given his absurdly close proximity. You hook your forefinger into his waistband and lead him to your bedroom. “Pants off,” you order, and he obeys without hesitation, exposing plaid boxers that fail to constrain his hardening length.

You give him a little shove onto the bed, sensing his heart beat faster underneath your palms. Locking onto his widened eyes, you straddle his waist as he sets himself up against the pillows.

“Can I ask you a question?” You nibble on his earlobe, grinning when a shiver courses through his body.

“A-Anything,” Eddie manages, hissing when your clothed core drags over his tented shorts, the newfound pressure only weakening his resolve.

You hum your approval. “What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

His breath hitches, hands clamping down on your hips so possessively that his fingerprints might be etched into your skin. “You,” he whispers. “Always you.”

“What about me?” You wrap a curly lock of hair around your finger and give it a playful tug. “What do you picture me doing? Or what are you doing to me?”

“Fuck.” He starts to palm himself over the fabric but you swat his hand away.

“You tell me, and I’ll make you feel so good.” Your fingers tug at the elastic band until his cock springs free. He’s mouthwateringly hard, but you don’t allow yourself to taste him. Instead, you wrap your hand around the base, lean over, and spit directly onto the tip. “‘M ready when you are, baby.”

He needs a moment to collect himself, to allow his mind to create coherent thoughts. It takes too long, apparently, because he hears you softly snicker.

“Cat got your tongue?”

And, fuck, all of the blood in his body rushes south at that. He’s reminded of the dream he’d had all those months ago; the one that catapulted his feelings from schoolboy crush to full-blown lovesickness. Dream You had said the same thing.

“At work,” he croaks, twisting his fists into your bedsheets, desperate for your hand to glide up and down his shaft, “you surprise me a-and suck me off behind the counter, and a c-customer walks in.”

“And then I stop, right?” you tease, thumb swiping at the pre-cum pooling at his slit. “I let you attend to the customer because I’m a good girl?”

“N-No.” Eddie furiously shakes his head. “You k-keep going; such a bad f-fuckin’ girl. Keep your pretty little lips wrapped a-around me.”

You finally relent, giving him what he wants, and he bucks into your hand with a groan. His fantasies flow freely now with each stroke. “Once he leaves, I grab you, spin you around, and–f-fuck–flip your little skirt up.”

“Am I wearing anything under this little skirt?” you coo, tightening your grip on his cock.

He shakes his head, curls already beginning to stick to his temples with light perspiration. “Not a thing. J-Just on display f’me.” He sucks in a harsh breath as he moves you so you’re sitting next to him, knees grazing one another. He quickly shifts to unbutton your jeans, meticulously working the button like he’s opening the gift of his dreams. “And only me.”

“Eddie, I–”

“Gotta touch you,” he mumbles. The way your panties cling to your cunt makes it easy for him to find your clit through the fabric. “Gonna lose my fuckin’ mind if I don’t touch you.”

And, God, you might lose your mind if he does. His nimble fingers rub your sweet spot, a delicious friction created by your underwear. Desire oozes from his pores, only heightening when you whimper at his touch.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” Eddie’s voice is low in his chest, “‘m gonna make you feel good, too.” He pushes your panties to the side; the cool air hitting your pussy makes you shiver.

“Wish you were inside me right now,” you moan, almost drooling just thinking about being stretched open as he pushes into you. “You always fill me up perfectly.”

His cock twitches at your words, and you take the initiative to quicken your pace. “Is that what you think about?” he asks, groaning in pleasure when you lean in to spit on his dick again, saliva messily snaking down his shaft and nestling in the thatch of curls on his pelvis. “Y’think about me filling you up?”

“Mhm.”

“M-Me too, Princess. Want to fuck you full of my cum.” Eddie leans back onto the headboard. “You’d look s’good filled with my cum.”

Your widened eyes and the way your stroking motions end abruptly inform him that that was not the response you’d been expecting.

“Shit, I—”

You recover from the shock remarkably fast. “Yeah? You’d like that?” You resume your pace, fist sliding up and down his length, paying special attention to the overstimulated head. Your breath tickles his ear as you whisper, “tell me about it.”

He’s suddenly shy, softening slightly in your hand. “You sure?” His gaze shifts to your lower stomach; only a few short days ago, there was the possibility of you carrying his child there. “‘S not weird?”

You shake your head, trailing kisses down the side of his throat. “Tell me about it,” you repeat with a bit more charge, inciting him to let go. “I want to know all of your fantasies, Eddie.”

His name is so pretty coming from your lips, accompanied by a gentle smile. “Never thought about it until you,” he admits, the weight of anxiety lifted at your insistence, and you feel his length begin stiffening once more. “Keeping you bent over, coming inside your perfect little pussy, and fucking it all back into you so it…” he trails off, still too sheepish to compete the sentence.

But you have no problem with finishing it. “So it sticks?” you ask innocently, as though you have no idea what the mere utterance of that phrase will do to him. He nods, unable to speak. “Do you think about everyone knowing what you do to me? Hmm?”

There’s so much that he wants to say, but he swears there’s no blood flowing anywhere but his cock. “You’d look fuckin’ gorgeous havin’ my baby,” he manages, mind filled with images of you in maternity dresses, bump pressed against his stomach as you kiss him deeply.

There’s further implications; namely, that he wants you and only you to bear his children, which you quickly make a mental note to unpack at a less sensual time. For now, you focus on taking his words at face value. “Bet you’d show me off everywhere we went. Wouldn’t keep your hands off of me.”

“Can barely keep them off of you now,” he says, finger circling your aching clit to prove his point, “but seeing you pregnant with our kid…” He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years, enveloping your busy hand with his free one, wrapping it around his erection and moving it faster. “Jus’ like that, fuck, sweet girl. Tell me what gets you goin’ now, yeah?” When you bite your lip apprehensively, he sighs. “Don’t be shy; I know you’ve been holding back on me.”

“Okay, okay,” you acquiesce with a knowing smile, “I think about you taking control. Just…using me however you want.”

Your toes curl as he rubs faster, clearly just as turned on as you are. “Y’need me to boss you around? Treat you like my little toy?”

“Mmm,” you agree, settling into the mattress. “Want you to choke me, too.”

His eyebrows raise at this, and his lips soon curl into a mischievous smirk. “Come ride my thigh an’ tell me more.” He pats his leg, his gaze never leaving your body as you reposition yourself to straddle it. You keep your hand on his member, spitting on it once again while moving your hips back and forth. “Take what you need, baby.”

“Need you,” you moan, the cotton fabric of your panties dragging along him. “Need you to decide if I come…” It’s a delectable thought: Eddie pounding you into the mattress, reminding you that good girls take what they’re given, and nothing more. Quieting all of the noise in your head. Day after day, you’re supposed to make choices for others; some major, some minor. All you want is for someone to tell you what to do.

Eddie’s rings are cold on your neck, giving it a hesitant squeeze. “That good?” His eyes are kind but fiery, willing you to beg for it.

“More; more, please.” And give you more he does, only stopping when you cough. “‘S good now.” Words barely audible between his tight grip and your own descent into submission.

But Eddie hears you loud and clear, voice firm when he orders: “Come with me. Don’t wanna come without you.” He’s pulsing in your grasp. “An’ if you don’t come now, don’t even think about trying to get yourself off later.”

Relief floods you as the coil snaps, his dominance scratching an itch too often left untouched. You come with a cry of his name, feeling his own hot release coating your hand. You’re both giggling and gasping for breaths as you float down from your respective highs, lips crashing together in sloppy, needing kisses.

“I love you so much,” Eddie mumbles into you, blindly reaching for the Kleenex box atop your nightstand. “I’ve never trusted anyone like this before.” He wipes your hand clean before brushing his thumb across your lower lip.

“Me either.” You kiss him again, tongues mingling before you confess, “for the record, the thought of having a baby is a little less scary when it’s yours. Someday,” you add for good measure.

Eddie smiles, cocking his head and looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. “I can live with ‘someday.’”

The school week draws to a close on Friday. Coming back from a break is never easy; the kids act like they’ve never been to school before. Just nine days out of the classroom and you’re fairly certain they’ve lost the ability to stay seated for more than ten seconds at a time.

Will is cleaning the tables with Clorox wipes, washing away crayon residue and softly whistling to himself. You’re filing away some paperwork, scrawling For Monday on a Post-It note and sticking it on top of a stack of handwriting practice worksheets.

There’s a light tap on your classroom door followed by an enthused voice.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

You look up to see Harris and Eddie standing in the doorway. Harris excitedly waves you over, holding a piece of construction paper tight to his chest.

Eddie clears his throat, hands tucked into his back pocket. “Harris has something for you,” he says softly. His eyes light up when he notices the heart necklace that drapes over your collarbone. “Go ‘head, Har Bear,” he encourages his son with a tiny nudge.

“Um, well,” Harris starts, uncharacteristically nervous, “I know you’re still just my almost-mommy, but Ms. Marion had us make cards for Mother’s Day. An’ we learned that mommies love their babies, an’ take care of them when they’re sick, an’ cheer them up when they’re sad, an’ read to them, an’ play with them–”

“Har,” Eddie prods gently, not wanting him to lose himself in a tangent.

“Oh, yeah. An’ I don’t have a mommy-mommy yet, but you do all those things for me, so I wanted to give you this.” He hands you the paper. Two handprints, one pink and one purple, serve as flowers in a pot.

One of the teachers–Marion or Paula–has neatly written at the top, Thanks for helping me grow! and Mother’s Day 1997 on the bottom. In the pot, Harris has printed his name.

“I love it,” you manage, blinking away the tears that spring to your eyes. “It’s the best card I’ve ever gotten.”

Harris wraps his arms around you in a hug, and you embrace him with everything you have. When you look up at Eddie, he grins and mouths, thank you.

You just smile back, feeling as though you should be thanking him. Thank him for allowing you into his little family, for letting you make mistakes, for being there to help you fix them. Thank him for that fire inside you, burning a bit brighter each day, reminding you that this is where you belong.

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jarofstyles · 7 months

Text

Scarred

Harry and Y/N work at a haunted attraction together- but no one’s ever seen his face.

WC-5.2k

Patreon

Warnings- mention of scars, bullying, anxiety, mention of blood, exhibitionism hint, slight angst and fluff

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When Y/N had first signed up to be a scare actor, she had heard a lot of things.

Be careful of guests with fear aggression. You may get punched.

Do not take candy from guests, there was an incident.

Go for the people who are acting like they are too good for it. They make the best scares.

But the one she had thought was the most amusing?

Everyone is hooking up. Be careful who you choose.

Y/N had no intentions of hooking up with anyone. This had been a side job, a side hustle if you will, some money to pay off bills and let her get a head start on holiday gifts. She’d never anticipated that a scare attraction would have the amount of drama or hook ups that she had been exposed to. It seemed like people paired off, even her friends she’d made that had warned her in rehearsal runs, had found people to fuck around with. She had no plans on doing anything with anyone- until she’d met Harry.

They had been in full costume when she’d met him. Skull makeup skillfully painted on his face, hair slicked back and some fake blood trickling down his temple. It was also splattered on his white dress shirt and knuckles, as well as the large axe he dragged along with him to make sparks on the pavement. He had a swagger to his walk, a smirk on his face as he approached Y/N, eyeing her up and down.

Her own costume was of a crazed vampire princess. An elvira adjacent dress with multiple rips, loads more fake blood on her dripping down her chin and smeared around her neck and hands. The choker holding a cross pendant had been his area of attack, gently tugging on it with a hum as he got into her space. Even with the red contacts in his eyes, she could read them well. It was hard not to. “Look at that….” he mumbled to her, their faces nearing as he lifted his hand to expose his cross tattoo near his thumb. “We match.”

That had been it before he walked away that time, but it wasn’t the end of it. It was only the beginning.

The first time they’d hooked up had been in an empty dressing room. Her face in his neck as he fucked into her, trying to hide her moans as he had taken her deep, her leg held in his hand as she was pressed against the lit table. He’d been filthy, whispering into her ear about how he would have done this out there if she had let him, how much he loved to feel her wrapped around him, his makeup smearing on her face and vice versa.

“There we go… what a tight little thing you are.” His breath washed over her lips, keeping their faces close. His cock had gotten deep in her, deeper than she had ever experienced without it being too much, and she had felt like he’d fucked her brain to mush. Repeatedly getting at her most sensitive spot, finding it and keeping right at it.

“Found it, didn’t I? So responsive. Teased me all fucking night, didn’t you?” He held her throat despite it still being sticky with the fake blood, watching her mouth open and panting. Her fingers held to the edge of the table and her knuckles pale, the slight wobble of her leg still on the ground cluing him in. “Do you know what I wanted to do?”

“What?” Y/N whispered. “What did you want to do to me?” She was desperate to know, not able to hide the desperation in the slightest with how well she was being fucked.

“I wanted to bend you over that bench. Brushed my stomach with those fucking nails… saying ‘oops’, like you hadn’t meant to. You did, you little slut. Just like you meant to push that perfect ass into me when you felt me come up behind you.” He hissed, tightening his grip on her throat. “Should have lifted up your skirt and taken you there. You were soaked for me then, weren’t you?” His grin was wicked, making her brain short circut. He was fully done in makeup despite it smearing near his mouth, and there was something so erotic about being fucked by a man in disguise.

“Fuck- more.” She pleaded, gritty voice gracing his ears along with her whimpers. His hand was wrapped deliciously around her throat and his fingers expertly pressing right against the sides, showing his experience and honestly, expertise at the art of erotic choking. “Spit- spit in my mouth, please? Please I just-“ she was cut off by his snicker.

“You’re filthier than I thought.” He laughed, watching in pleasured awe as her mouth opened and her tongue laid out, eagerly catching the string of spit as he messily gave it to her. She could feel his cock twitch in her as her eyes hazily looked up at him, swallowing it with a slightly deranged giggle.

“So dirty.” Her voice wheezed, opening her mouth for more. “Give me everything. I’ll be good, just- I want it all.”

Harry had definitely followed through in that promise. Hell, the man made her cum twice that first time, gently helping clean her up before they’d gone their separate ways.

Y/N had yet to see him without the face makeup on. She’d caught him without the costume and seen the gallery of tattoos he had inked on his skin, but he always beat her there and seemed to like the game of having seen her face without her seeing his. In some ways, it was like a bit of foreplay to them both. Y/N never knew she had a kink that was mask adjacent but here she was.

He didn’t even bother taking it off at the attraction, rather driving home in full makeup. Her friends had said they’d never seen him without it either, but the only thing they knew was his real eye color was green. Harry was a bit secretive and apparently had never hooked up with anyone in the past, despite working here for the last 5 seasons.

“He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you.” Kristen mumbled to her as they did their makeup next to one another. In the reflection she could see Harry standing in a group with some other scare actors, but his focus was on Y/N. Seeing her find his gaze in the mirror, he didn’t look away. Instead, he winked at her, continuing his observation. Y/N felt herself heat under her skin, shaking her head as her hand trembled slightly as she lined her lips.

“I bet he does. Come on, how big is he?” Her friend hissed, trying to gain some sort of juicy tidbit she’d been holding off on.

“Big.” Y/N laughed, placing the cap back on her lip liner. “I don’t know any more about him than you guys do. I know what car he drives, that he doesn’t have any social media, has green eyes and a big dick. But he’s still a gentleman above all else, he always walks me to my car. But that’s about it.” She wished she knew more. Having hook ups happen exclusively at work was hot, but she’d love to be on a bed. And not have to rush.

“I think he’s actually into you.” Kristen muttered. “I heard he was asking around about you. He hasn’t asked me anything yet but he asked Lila if you lived around here or if you travelled.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, meeting Harry’s in the mirror yet again. He rose a brow in return, narrowing his eyes at her with his smirk. “I don’t know why he’s asking other people that stuff when he can just ask me.” She replied, going back to filling her lips in with the lipstick. It irked her a little bit, she couldn’t lie. Y/N had tried to get more information on him but he’d sort of froze when she tried so she respected it and didn’t bring it up again.

“Maybe it’s because when you both are together you’ve got each other’s tongues down your throats.” Her friend snickered, making Y/N kick her shin. That got her to stop, but it didn’t make it any less true. It was real, she feared. Every night, since they were in the same scare zone, it was like foreplay when they walked by each other. His hand brushing her back or her arm, whispering something dirty to her as he passed by, or vice versa. But still.

At the end of the night, when Harry popped up out of nowhere while she cleaned her bag, she felt his hands grip her hips from behind. Her costume had been hung up on the rack, leaving her in athletic shorts and her tee shirt as his fingers dipped under the waistband, pulling her back into him and letting her feel his cock. It was in his jeans, his black tank top exposing his tattoos yet again as she looked at the hands feeling her up. “Heard you were asking around about me.” She said simply, allowing him to touch as she zipped up her bag.

“I was.” Was his answer, lips brushing over the shell of her ear. “Pretty little princess is a bit of a mystery. I’ve found the answers to be satisfactory, though.” He sighed, making her skin flood with chills as he kissed the delicate skin right behind her ear. Y/N found it hard to think when he touched her like this but it was hard to pull away when his touch was something she craved. Even in her day to day before she went to work, she thought about his mouth and his hands, How he tasted. She had bruises from him and they were constant reminders.

“What answers did you find?” She asked, leaning back in his hold and letting her ass rub against his length. His nose exhaled a harsher breath at the action, hands tightening on her as he groaned.

“Well.. You live around here. You’ve got a cat. Work full time. Know your age, know you like banana taffy which, in my humble opinion, is vile. But I don’t know enough. I want to know more.” His deep voice was hypnotic, making her want to spill her life story to him, but looking in the mirror to see his face still painted made her pause.

“I’m the mystery?” She laughed. “You don’t let anyone see your face. All I know about you is your name, your car, that you like ACDC, and you’re good in bed.” She huffed, turning around to face him. His contacts were out and the mossy green looked down at her, a grin lighting up his features as he replied.

“Good in bed, aye?”

“Harry.” She deadpanned, crossing her arms. “I’m serious. I don’t know much at all. Is this something you want to keep just here? Cause I’m a little confused why you’re asking around and wanting to know more when you’ve never let me see you without the makeup on before.” She could see him sober a little bit, body stiffening a little when he could tell she was serious. “It’s like you make it a point for no one to see your real face, which, it’s cool if that’s a boundary but I feel a bit at a disadvantage when you’ve seen all of me and I’ve barely seen any of you.” It felt a bit ridiculous to say, perhaps she was overreacting but it was something that she felt. She’d felt there was a bit of an imbalance.

Harry was quiet for a moment, releasing her from his grip as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed to mull over it for a moment, making Y/N hope she didn’t upset him but it was a conversation they’d eventually have to have.

“I’ve never done this before.” He finally mumbled back. “I like this job because it lets me escape the day to day. The stares I get normally, it's the stares I want. I don’t- I don’t want you to feel disadvantaged because of it.” Obviously that bothered him. His brows were furrowed and his stance stiff, which she felt slightly bad for but it was simply the truth. It confused her a little bit, but he continued. “I just like what I’ve got going on here, and I don’t want people to look at me differently or anything like that. As for you, for us… I don’t want to keep it just here, but it’s the excuse I’ve got to keep the makeup on.”

Now she was very confused. Looking at him with it written on her face, she placed her hand on his arm for comfort as she tried to get his eyes to meet hers again. “What do you mean?” She asked gently, trying to approach the subject delicately. It was relieving to know he didn’t want to only keep it here, but it made her concerned to know something was holding him back from showing her his face. “You know, if you show me your face I’m not going to tell anyone else what you look like. If you want privacy, I respect that. It's not my secret or face to share.” Y/N hoped he would know that even in the short time they’d known each other.

“No, I know- I don’t think you would. I just worry because-” He obviously didn’t like talking about it and it made him uncomfortable, as this was probably the most they’d talked without slipping into something sexual, but he seemed to take her concern seriously. “I worry that you’re going to see me without the makeup and be repulsed or something. All of my exes, well both of them, they said they were okay with me and then it got too much when people stared at me and- fuck, okay….” He groaned, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got a massive scar going down the side of my face. Goes through my eyebrow, over my eyelid and down my cheek. Some skin is fucked up on the side too, s’textured- I was in an accident when I was younger and it fucked it all up.” He breathed, making Y/N’s heart ache. Once he started talking though, he was going and she didn’t want to interrupt, so she just slipped her hand down to hold his and nodded for him to continue. “I’ve grown up being called all sorts of shit and a monster- hell, even coming here to audition, they thought I was in some special effects shit. They were mortified when I told them it was just my face after they said they’d want to make it more gory, but… I come here in my makeup and no one sees the scar. They just see me and they think I’m attractive, and even if it's a little weird, I can anticipate the staring cause it’s not my imperfection. It’s anticipated. Dunno if I’m running my mouth for a stupid reason, but-”

“No. It isn’t stupid.” Y/N said firmly. “First, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, had to be hurt like that, and had people who hurt you because they’re cowards and can’t deal with people staring at you. That’s bullshit and it pisses me off.” She huffed, obviously irritated. “But I am not going to be repulsed or horrified. I like what I’ve seen of you this far, didn’t even think I’d hook up with anyone here if I’m honest, but you are extremely attractive, Harry. I’m positive that once the face paint comes off, that isn’t going to change. Scar or not. It’s how you carry yourself, how you talk. How you touch.” Her other arm lifted to wrap over his neck, pressing her body into his own. “If you aren’t ready to show me, you don’t have to. I won’t ever make you show yourself here either.” She motioned to the room around them. “ I understand, having an escape from that must be so nice but… I promise you, I’m not going to run away just because of a mark on your skin. I like you from what I know so far- even if it isn’t a lot.” Her voice was tender, trying to convey just how much she meant it. It could be such a good thing, at least in her opinion. They had incredible chemistry and got on and she wanted to see how far it could take them.

Harry took a moment to absorb what she said, nodding hesitantly before he pulled her back into an embrace. It broke her heart to feel his shaky hand on her back. He didn’t seem to be afraid of anything but this, working in a place built for screams and monsters, his real face was his secret. Y/N didn’t like that people had made him feel ashamed over something he had no control over. “I-I do like you.” He said quietly, chin on top of her head. “I was even worried, y’know, for after the season was over because I like how I feel around you, but I’ve been scared t’show you. If you really want to see…” He was a bit braver with her face tucked into his neck, her fingers stroking the hair peeking from his beanie that covered his head. “I think it could be cool if you came over t’my house.”

“Yeah?” Her face brightened and Harry swore right there that it would make it worth it. The underlying anxiety was still there but hell, Y/N hadn’t even blinked at the idea he maybe wasn’t as attractive as she thought underneath the makeup. “Okay! When?” Her body bounced in excitement and it made the pressure on his chest lift just a smidge.

“Uh- tonight? If you want.” He offered. “Or tomorrow, I’m not like, super bus- I write from home as my other job, and I do on the side too- so I make my own schedule, it’s really up to you.”

“I’d love to come tonight.” The excitement was audible in her tone, the more she spoke the less he felt anxious. “Let me grab my bag. Uh, why don’t you text me your address.” She suggested, pushing some of his hair back. “I’ll follow you there but in case we get lost.”

“Course.” He went to take out his phone but was interrupted by a pair of petal soft lips connecting with his, making him abandon his plans and inhale sharply as he reciprocated the soft kiss. His hand on the side of her neck, pulling her back in when she went to pull away and making her giggle.

“There will be plenty of that once we get there. Let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

—————

Harry’s place was cute.

In a row of condos, his was at the end and she could see a fence hiding what must be a hard. Long rather than wide, she was impressed immediately as she pulled up behind his car. He had already arrived but waited patiently at his front door, seemingly already put his stuff away.

Y/N wanted to coo at the decoration of the front porch of his place. There were a few carved pumpkins, a spider web, and purple and orange string lights hanging on the banisters. He obviously liked Halloween but she got her explanation when she started up the steps.

“Got a niece and I watch her for my sister sometimes.” He began to satiate her ravenous curiosity. Y/N was dying for any bit of information about him. “We uh, we had a pumpkin carving night with her and my mum.” There wasn’t any embarrassment which she loved. The man in front of her seemed to love his family with no shame and that was attractive to her beyond belief, her wide smile pairing with her nod.

“You get cuter the more I get to know about you.” Being openly flirtatious wasn't her norm, no, but she wanted Harry to actually see she liked him. She was sensitive to his insecurities and wanted it undeniable that she was into him, which wouldn’t be hard to prove. She really, really did. “Though I’m sad I missed out. I haven’t carved a pumpkin in years.”

Not wanting to be presumptuous, her bag was left in her car but… she definitely did want to stay for a while.

“That’s awful.” He clicked his tongue. “If I had a spare, I’d remedy that but… maybe another night.” The hint towards having more time with her away from the attraction made her heart soar if she was being honest, but she tried to hold composure so her smile didn’t look absolutely insane.

“I’m holding you to that.” She controlled her grin as he stood up, opening the front door for her. Immediately she was greeted with a comforting home. It was the exact opposite of what she had expected as a bachelor living alone. Photos of what looked to be his family on the walls, the odd art piece, a hanging rack with his keys and a few beanies and a sweater. He had a wicker shoe rack and a woven red rug in the entryway, stairs immediately to the left and what looked to be a dining room to the side.

“I’m sorry for a bit of a mess. I don’t really have people over much, so my dining room is my work space and… yeah. It’s got papers and shit.” He rubbed the back of her neck. “My office got small and I like to spread out.” It was a cute little quirk that she found to be fucking endearing. Seeing the neat stacks of paper and his laptop, what looked to be a light box? She wasn’t sure, but she thought she recognized it. He had a knit cardigan hanging off the back of a leather office chair on wheels, softening the look of it and making her wonder what he was like outside of work even more. He seemed to be… soft.

The house smelled like apples and cinnamon and she saw a wax melter thing as they walked through and he led her towards the living room, a step down to the space from the kitchen. Hardwood covered in a few different rugs that should look bad but didn’t. They all fit somehow, even on top of one another. A soft looking couch and giant bean bag looking thing were there too, making her wonder which he preferred to sit in.

“Can I get you something to drink?” He asked, standing with his hands behind his back. A slightly nervous thing he did. “I’m gonna go uh, take the makeup off.” It broke her heart to see his nerves come back like that. Her hand gently tugged on his arm, trying and succeeding to pull his hand into her own.

“I’m fine for right now but, I just wanted to remind you that I do like you already. I want to get to know you, to see your face. Okay?” Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand, noting his knuckles were still split. He’d blamed it on the gym. “I know it’s still scary but believe me when I say that you aren’t going to scare me away, and I’m not going to tell everyone what you look like. You’re safe with me.”

Her reassurance seemed to do a lot, his head falling from his stiff shoulders and looking at his feet as he sighed. Of course he was riddled with nerves. The one girl he actually liked had never seen him without his so-called mask, and he knew he could look jarring to people who weren’t prepared- but there was no use in wasting time.

“Alright. I trust you.” Weirdly enough, he actually did.

Hearing Harry’s return down the stairs, Y/N sat up a bit straighter. He’d been gone for about 10 minutes, 15 maybe. She tried to distract herself on her phone but it would be a lie to say that it worked. Her own nerves were acting out. Her biggest fear was reacting in a way he perceived as negative. He was trusting her with this, and she really didn’t want to fuck it up.

Y/N had no idea what to expect besides a scar. So seeing his face for the first time had really thrown her for a loop- because the scar held the least of her attention.

Harry was hot. Handsome. Attractive. Every word you could use to describe a god of a man, that’s what she would use to identify him.

His hair that was usually slicked back had been washed clean, damp waves falling slightly in his face. Paler skin than she had imagined, but it was still beautiful. His nose was on the bigger side like she preferred. His jaw and cheeks sharp, carved to perfection. If she could have compared him to anything it would be one of those Greek statues, or maybe what she had always imagined Apollo to look like. His skin was smooth and it looked soft, sans the slight stubble on his chin and around his mouth- she was familiar with that, though. So were her thighs.

His eyes looked even greener like this, not hidden behind the elaborate makeup. His lashes were still slightly clumped together from the shower, and by the time he had hesitantly sat in front of her, she was itching to have the eyes look up and back into hers.

The scar was noticeable, yes. It went down his face as he had previously described, the pinker skin with some puckering trailing down his left side. It made her heart hurt to know that this was the cause of his insecurities though, because honestly? In her opinion, it didn’t take away from his beauty.

It wasn’t often that she would describe a man as beautiful, but he truly was. Her words escaped her for a moment, but as soon as she had a coherent thought, she took a breath. “Harry….” She began to reach a hand up before pausing. “Can I?” Motioning to his face. He hesitated before nodding, leaning forward.

Her hands cupped both of his cheeks, looking over his face with a saccharine smile, feeling the heated skin under her fingertips as she traced over the raised skin. “You are absolutely fucking beautiful.” She mumbled. “Wow. You had nothing to worry about because… I’m a little shocked at how attractive you are. Knew you would be regardless but I'm kind of in awe of you.” She laughed, making him smile. She could feel it under her hands, pulling one away to make a discovery.

“For fucks sake! You’ve got a dimple too?” She whined. “That’s unfair. You should get to choose between chiseled features and dimples.”

Harry was flushed, but he joined in her laughter. There was no part of it that felt inauthentic. A bit of him felt silly, actually, with seeing her react so well. He’d worked himself up, gotten so anxious and upset over the prospect of her seeing him and being horrified that he had almost denied himself of getting to know her deeper.

“Yeah?” A shy tone tinged his voice making him want to cringe, but he truly was slightly shocked at how well she took it.

“Yep.” She chirped, climbing into his lap, helping herself to him. His hands went around her body as she took a closer look at him, seemingly enjoying what she saw and it made him a little flustered. The look in her eye was of genuine desire and attraction, the same if not more intense from when she had flirted with him at work. It wasn’t a reaction he was used to- or one he really looked for. “Harry… can I be honest?”

His stomach dropped to his feet, terrified for a mere moment before she continued at his jerking nod. “I think people stare at you because you’re fucking hot.” The blunt words were not at all what he expected, eyebrows shooting up at the opinion of hers. That’s… certainly not what he had thought she would say. “I’m serious. I’m kinda drooling over you. I have and do when you’re in your costume cause, duh, but you’re genuinely one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen. And the scar…” her finger ran over it on his cheek. “It’s part of you. It’s attractive. To me, and I’m sure many others.” Her mouth turned downwards for a second. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to erase the trauma you had to endure from growing up with it. I’m positive people have bullied you and said horrific things. But I just think… more people probably find you attractive than you realize. And your ex girlfriends are absolute fucking morons, no offense.”

The passion in her last statement had him sputtering out a laugh. She truly meant that! “I can’t say that’s the reaction I expected but, it’s better than I hoped.” He admitted, arms looped around her waist. Her eyes were drinking him in and admiring him, something he wasn’t used to. Maybe she was right about that, but he was used to and conditioned to believe his scar was ugly. Her approval wouldn’t necessarily fix that overnight but it definitely gave him a confidence boost.

“I’m sorry I hid from you.” His voice was quiet, letting her explore his face. “I really… I really liked you and I was so scared that it would scare you off. I got in my head about it. I don’t like being known as the ‘scar guy’ when there’s a lot more to me but I knew that if people at work knew what I’d look like they’d see me as that.” Which, it was understandable. Y/N seemed to get it, nodding along in support. “I don’t think I’m ready to show my scar there. I kinda of like being someone else there, but…” he licked over his bottom lip. “I'd like for you to see the real me. If that’s something you’d still be interested in.”

“Of course it is, Harry.” She insisted. “I’m only more into you now. Don’t get me wrong, your makeup is sexy and I love your persona there but… you’re right. There’s so much more to you that I’m dying to learn.” Her fingers pushed his damp curls from his eyes, exposing his face and tipping it up so she could brush her lips against his scarred cheek for a soft peck. “So let’s start. Tell me who you are.”

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