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tokkias · 1 year

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The out of order sign taped to the elevator in Lucy’s apartment building was just the cherry on top of her terrible, horrible, no-good day.

Perfect, great, just splendid. This was exactly what she had needed after walking barefoot home in the rain, carrying her broken high heels through the streets after finding her car had been (in her opinion) unfairly towed. Lucy thanked every star that she only lived on the fifth floor, but that was still five flights too many, and her body cried out in aches and pains every step of the way. The throbbing pain in her back refused to let out as she trudged down the hallway to her door, her legs aching in protest until she found a small moment of respite as she leaned against the wall by her front door, rummaging through her bag to look for her keys and-

Oh shit.

She let her shoes clatter to the floor as she desperately searched every nook and pocket to try and find the last thing standing in the way between her and a nice hot shower. In her desperation, she dumped everything onto the ground, well beyond the point of caring if her neighbours gave her weird looks.

Phone. Wallet. Pens. Tampons. Lipstick. Notebook.

No keys.

Lucy couldn’t even recall where she had last seen them. Had she locked them in her apartment? Maybe she had left them at work, or locked them in her car, or god forbid, dropped them on her walk home. Right now, she was simply not capable of the brainpower to think of where she could have lost them; every ounce of her energy being directed into trying her best not to burst into tears.

To save herself some face, she began to gather up her belongings, putting them back in her bag, before she was hit with her first good idea of the day. Natsu had the spare key to her apartment! Any other time she may have been frustrated that she hadn’t simply left her spare under the mat at her front door, but at the moment, she was just taking any win she could. For the first time today, she felt a small rush of joy fill her body; not only would she get back into her apartment, but she would also have an excuse to make Natsu order pizza, or Chinese, or anything that didn’t involve her having to cook for herself. Now, if only her phone weren’t dead.

What was happening to her today? Had she pissed off some sort of deity that she didn’t even know existed? Or was Murphy’s Law just out to get her?

"Stupid Natsu, taking my stupid key," she grumbled, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her forehead fall against them.

"Oi, what’d I do? You were the one who gave me the key." His voice came like an angel from the heavens above, and for a moment, Lucy was almost certain that she was imagining things, but no, there he was, standing in her doorway, and for once, she was thankful that this man had no regard for when it was appropriate to break into his girlfriend’s apartment. She all but threw herself at him, forcing her dead weight upon him while she lazily tossed her arms around his neck, taking in the first good moment of her day.

"Carry me." She demanded, and with a light chuckle, he obliged, hooking his arms around her knees before lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his torso.

"Geez, so bossy," he joked, earning him a weak smack from his woeful girlfriend, who was much more preoccupied with shoving her face as far into his collarbone as she physically could.

Careful not to drop her, Natsu kicked her shoes and bag through the doorway, before using his foot to shut the door behind them. Usually he would have taken a moment to tease her just a little more in her misfortune, but her genuinely pathetic looking state advised him against it, instead indulging her request and bringing her over to couch, where he plopped her down, landing with a bounce on the plush surface.

Immediately, Lucy threw her head back, squeezed her eyes shut, and let out a long and unfiltered groan of frustration.

"Rough day?" Natsu asked, dropping down on the couch beside her.

She merely nodded in response, her hands in fists as the bottoms of her palms pressed against her eyes in a futile attempt to keep the tears from coming out.

"The story I’ve been working on for three months just got pulled from underneath me, I spilled coffee on the hard drive that my novel was on, and then when I went to get myself some comfort food from the coffee place downstairs, I left my wallet back in the office!" The tears were running freely down her face, but she didn’t have it in her to care anymore, instead pouring all her effort into airing her day's grievances out to Natsu, who listened intently, sympathetically rubbing his hand on her thigh. "And then my boss called me into his office, and I thought he was finally going to reassign me to a good story, but he just said that my skirt was too short and it was making the guys in the office uncomfortable!"

"Well, if it makes ya feel better, I think your short skirts are great," he quipped, a mischievous grin on his face as he pulled her into his lap and gave her butt a playful squeeze, to which she just rolled her eyes in response before resting her forehead on his shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and he planted a kiss on her temple while he rubbed gentle circles on her arms with his thumbs.

It felt good to finally let it all out. It felt even better to have Natsu here to listen. Maybe it was because they had been best friends for years before they started dating, but he somehow always knew just how to make her feel better. Just being around him, being in his arms, made it feel like all the bad things could just melt away into nothing.

"I just want to shower and go to bed," she grumbled into his shoulder.

"Alright," he hummed, giving her no time to react before he lifted her off the couch, eliciting a surprised squeak from her as she frantically wrapped her legs around his waist to hold herself up.

Once the initial shock of being swept up into his arms wore off, she relaxed slightly, burying her face into his chest and taking in his comforting scent.

Before she was able to get too comfortable, she felt her feet hit the cool tile floor of the bathroom. She let out a soft whine at the loss of his warmth as he abandoned her to turn on the tap, letting the water warm up for her.

"I’m gonna go get us some towels," he told her, ruffling her hair before making his exit.

As soon as he left, Lucy began to shed her miserable work clothing, tugging her shirt over her head and peeling off her accursed miniskirt that she was sure she would never wear again after today. She let out a sigh of relief as she ditched her bra, freeing herself from the pain of her underwire and the pinching of the straps. After kicking off her panties somewhere to the side, she finally found herself stepping into the shower that she had been dreaming of all day.

She hissed slightly as her skin met the scalding water before pulling herself away from the stream and adjusting the temperature.

"You always turn it up too hot," she pouted when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, and a chin rest on her shoulder.

"You always turn it too cold," he replied, his lips grazing against the soft skin of her shoulder.

"I’m not about to burn my skin off tonight because you wanted to intrude on my shower," she grumbled back.

She couldn’t bring herself to want to kick him out because after today she really did want his company, shower or not. Her decision was firmly reinforced when she felt his hands roam up her back before resting on her shoulders, where he began to rub his thumbs into the strained muscles.

Lucy sighed in blissful pleasure as his hands worked out all the kinks and aches that had built up in her neck and shoulders over the course of her miserable, pathetic day. His hands were always so warm, and combined with the hot water running across her skin, Lucy finally felt her body relax. Her legs still struggled to hold up her weight, but Natsu was more than happy to hold her up as she leaned back on him. He ran his hands down her arms until they rested lightly on her hips before trailing up her waist to her boobs, where he gave them both a quick squeeze, to which Lucy rolled her eyes in response.

Leaning against him, she tilted her head back, resting the crown of her head against his chest so she could look up at his face. His pink locks, dampened from the water, now fell across his forehead and over his eyes. It had grown longer than she knew he liked, but it was kind of cute in her opinion.

"Can you wash my hair for me?" She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him, "please?"

With the sweet expression she was giving him and how sad and pathetic she looked when she arrived home, he would be remiss to deny her.

"Sure thing," he murmured, placing a kiss against her forehead before reaching for her shampoo bottle.

It was the same floral-scented stuff she used all the way back in high school when they met, and the smell of it had become synonymous with Lucy in his mind. She would never admit it out loud, but the only reason she had kept using it for so long was because she knew that Natsu liked it. Even before they started dating, he’d bury his face in her hair and let himself be comforted by the all-encompassing scent of his Lucy.

Dispensing a small amount into his hand, Natsu began to massage it into her roots. Lucy hummed in contentment, relishing in the feeling of his fingers working into her scalp as the warm water washed over her body. When she felt his touch leave her, she turned her back to the showerhead to rinse the suds out of her hair, only to be met with Natsu looking down at her with that smile that she had fallen so hard for. She reached up to drag her hands through his hair before resting her arms on his shoulders. Her arms ached in protest, but the pain seemed to be more tolerable with the shower’s warmth soothing her muscles, and the smile of the man standing before her. He couldn’t make all of her pain go away, but she just couldn’t find it in herself to be miserable around him, especially not when he was going out of his way to make her feel better.

"You have so much hair," he commented, running his fingers through it, "it’s real pretty."

Natsu always made it known that she was so much more than her appearance, but hearing him compliment her like that never failed to make her heart flutter. He always knew the right things to say to turn her insides to mush, even without trying.

"Are you going to finish washing it, then?" She asked innocently.

"Damn, bossy, and impatient?" He quipped, a cheeky grin crossing his face.

"I am neither of those things!" Lucy whined, leveraging her arms' position to give him a weak whack on the back of his head.

"I’m just kiddin’," he laughed. "course I’ll finish washing it. I wouldn’t leave ya hanging, Lucy."

Letting her arms drop to her sides, Lucy reached for her conditioner, passing it to Natsu and turning back around to let him run the product through her hair. He dragged his fingers through her golden tresses from scalp to tips, gently tugging out the knots that had formed throughout the day as he applied the conditioner, enjoying the way her hair felt against his skin. When he reached the tips of her hair at her lower back, he made sure to give her butt a squeeze, just for good measure.

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, only to be met with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

"What?" He grinned, "ya got a cute butt."

He gave it a light smack, earning him a half-hearted eyeroll from Lucy as she reached for the soap. She ran it up and down her arms, neck, and torso before giving herself a much-needed rinse down, washing away all the sweat and grime that had built up over the day that was beginning to make her feel disgusting and icky.

"Want me to do your back?" Natsu asked, gesturing to the bar in her hand.

"Yes please," she hummed, passing it to him before pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose her back.

The feeling of his hands across the bare skin of her back sent shivers up her spine in the best way possible. He was thorough with it (because he knew she would complain about it if he wasn’t), and made sure to pay special attention to the muscles he had noticed were tense earlier, rubbing with light pressure that made her groan in bliss.

"Alright, done," he told her, signalling for her to turn around and rinse the suds off of her body.

She tilted her head to let the water run down her hair, eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth it provided, rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of it and letting the soap lather wash off of her back and down the drain. When her eyes fluttered open to meet his, she gestured for him to pass the bar back to her.

"Okay, your turn," she hummed.

"Huh?" He tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"You washed my back, now I get to wash yours," she replied, "now turn around."

Mildly amused by her random assertiveness, he obliged with her request, letting her scrub down his back, taking her time to feel the ripple of every back muscle under her skin (and, of course, making sure to get her revenge by smacking his butt as she did so). She shuffled out of the way a little, freeing up the stream of water for him to rinse the soap off and finish cleaning himself before they could leave and he could make good on the second part of her request: going to bed.

She stepped out of the shower before him, taking the time he spent washing himself up to dry herself off. He had made sure to grab her favourite, fluffy towels that she saved for special occasions when she felt like pampering herself, and this felt like an appropriate time to use them. Flipping her hair over, she wrapped it tightly in one of them to ensure she wouldn’t be dripping all over the carpet. With the other, she dragged it across her body, letting it soak up the droplets of water that clung to her skin before wrapping it around her chest, tucking one corner under to hold it up and cover her indecency.

Not long after, Natsu had stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel of his own to dry himself off.

"Feeling better?" He asked, to which Lucy responded with a soft nod as she buried her face in his chest. "Now, can ya walk to bed, or am I gonna have to carry you again?"

"Well if you’re offering," she said, looking up at him coyly before stretching out her arms to signal that she did indeed want to be carried again.

She hooked them at the back of his neck as he lifted her up, one arm under her arms and the other under her knees, carrying her like a newlywed bride. With each step, he placed a wet, sloppy kiss on her face, which was met with a cacophony of giggles that he was sure he would never tire of. When he reached her room, he tossed her on her bed, where she landed with a soft bounce, before he threw himself onto the mattress next to her.

Rolling on his side, he pulled her closer to him, and she nestled her face in the crook of his neck. The tips of his fingers ran across her back, tracing random patterns on her soft skin, providing comfort with his touch. It was like all of her woes had been washed away down the drain. Any grievances that she once had no longer held any real estate in her mind, instead being filled only with thoughts of him.

"I love you," she mumbled, her voice muffled from how far she had buried herself in his embrace.

"What was that?"

Lucy rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he could hear exactly what she said, but deciding to humour him, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "I said I love you."

"I love you too," he grinned, his teeth bared and eyes squinted slightly, just the way she liked it.

She wrapped an arm around his back, resting her forehead against his chest, letting herself be comforted by the gentle rise and fall of it with each breath he took. It reminded her how lucky she was to have someone like Natsu. No, not someone like Natsu; how lucky she was to have her Natsu.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?"

"Being here for me," she replied.

There was no one who knew her better than he did; no one who could make her feel as good, as happy as Natsu. He knew all of her quirks and ticks—all the ways to make her laugh, make her smile. She would spend every day for the rest of her life at his side if he would let her, and she was fairly certain he would too.

"It’s just part of the job description," he joked, "I take care of ya, and then I get to touch your boobs."

"Pervert."

"Yeah, but you like it," he smirked, rolling over and trapping her between his arms so he could look down and admire her.

Her hands tangled through his hair, still damp from their shower, before pulling him down to meet her lips. She smiled into their kiss, letting herself melt against his touch, letting herself melt into him.

#mya writes things #nalu #fanfiction #fan fiction #i need a new writing tag #long post

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msuchiha · 1 year

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Baby Don't Cut! Itachi Uchiha X Depressed Reader.

Summery:- Your boyfriend had been noticing your weird behaviour lately so when he tried to talk to you about it he found out that you've been doing self-harm and he is gonna do everything to stop you from hurting yourself.

Warning:- Self harm, Depressions, comfort, ANGST with happy ending. (I was listening to song named ‘Baby don't cut’ and had idea of writing this.)

You turned off your tap as you washed the blood off from your hand. You didn't want to do any of these stupid stuff and you knew these were useless but life has been really hard for you lately and you just felt satisfied after cutting your wrist, the pain somehow ease your inner pain for a bit.

You shrieked when you heard your door bell ring, no one usually came to visit you these days so you weren't anyone to come right now.

Yoy quickly wore your hoodie even though it wasn't cold, you just wanted to hide the scars you have right now.

You rushed to the door and opened it, only to see you beloved boyfriend standing right infront of you with the gentle smile on his face.

“Itachi?” you raised a brow as the male let himself inside your house.

“Sorry, did i disturb you darling?” He asked making sure he wasn't causing you trouble, you shook your head.

“You never disturb me.” the male chuckled as you closed the door and started going toward him.

“What made you come here?” you asked knowing it's his work time.

Itachi does part time job along with his studies to help his family, it's not like he is broke, he just wants to do something for his family.

“I got off early, and I haven't been spending so much time with you, so i decided we could spend some time together.” Itachi genuinely replied.

“Ohh...” You responded, being lost in your thoughts.

Itachi noticed it and poked your head, you flinched slightly and came back to reality.

Seeing you flinch broke his heart, he didn't expect you to be scared of him so why did you flinch at him?

“Is something wrong?” he held your cheek with his hand and asked, you just shook your head but your eyes were telling something else.

He noticed you were trying to hide something, he held your wrist and lifted your sleeve up before you could stop him.

“Ouch!” You cried in pain, itachi's face turned blank as he sees your arm covered in several cuts.

“Why...?” was all he said. You looked down trying your hardest to hold back your tear.

“Well...life has been a little too hard with me these days and i just didn't knew what should i do...”

“How long has it been?” Itachi asked as soon as you replied.

“Maybe a week..?” you replied, he felt almost useless right now, his darling has been hurting herself for a week and he didn't even know about it? How could he call himself your boyfriend if he can't even help you when you're going through a hard time.

He softly caressed your scar as he buried his face on your neck, you could feel your shoulder getting wet and you knew he was crying.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier about this? We could have done something together to make you feel better...” Itachi whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

“I'm sorry...I just thought I'd disturb you, you've been b-” he put a finger between your lips.

“Shush, you're my first priority not my work, so if you ever feel like this again, you better tell me first ok?” he whispered in your ear and you nodded.

He started giving you a little packs on your neck which made you giggle.

“Promise me you won't hurt yourself again.” you smiled.

“I promise!”

[After few days]

After few days you started feeling better and you started smiling like you used to again.

Today you decided to go back to school after so many days, you have been skipping classes for so long now.

You held your books near your chest, a smile formed in your face when you saw your boyfriend's little text.

‘Best of luck ^^’

You walked through the corridor, still thinking about itachi.

You didn't know when you suddenly slipped your ankle and fell on the floor, everyone around you started laughing at you making your anxiety rise.

Tears formed in your once happy face again, it was all a lie, The happiness you were expecting in your life was a lie.

You quickly got up and ran toward the girls washroom with tears in your eyes.

You shut the door of washroom and took out your phone.

You searched for itachi's contact, and texted him.

‘Itachi, I love you so much, i love you with my body heart and soul to death.’

As soon as you sent this text to Itachi, you received his reply. Saying ‘I love you too’

Next you began to cry her heart out, you didn't care if people could hear you.

After crying for a while, you dumbed the school to go to your house.

You opened your apartment door as you arrived at your house.

After entering your apartment, you grabbed the kitchen knife and ran to the bathroom.

“I can't believe I'll break the promise so soon...” you started cutting your wrist again, the cut getting deeper and deeper. Soon blood was all over the floor and your vision also started to get blurry.

Itachi wasn't feeling very good since he received that text from you, he decided to take a half day off and went to your apartment to see how you were doing.

He knocked on your door only to find it open. He entered the apartment and heard the sound of water.

His eyes widened in shock, he rushed through the washroom without a second thought, only to see the bloody floor and and your unconscious body.

His heart felt like it has stopped working for a second as he walked toward your unconscious body.

He lifted you up in his arm and tears started forming in his eyes, why did you broke your promise? Why would you hurt yourself again? And why wouldn't you tell him about it?! He started asking all these questions to himself.

Without wasting any more time he called an ambulance.

As soon as you arrived to the hospital the doctor took you to the emergency room. Itachi was waiting out of your operation room holding his head on his palm, a lot of blood had been leaked from your body, and the doctor had said to him that it'll be hard to save you. But he still believed that you'd make it alive and you aren't cruel enough to leave him to suffer.

After couple of hours doctor came out of the emergency room and walked toward Itachi. Itachi stood up aggressively.

“Don't worry Mr. Uchiha, your girlfriend is in safe condition now. She's lucky to have a boyfriend like you...you just took her here in right time.” Itachi sighed in relief as he heard the doctor. “Thankyou so much doctor..” he thanked.

Few months passed since you got out of the hospital and you seem to be perfectly fine now, Itachi made sure to visit you everyday. He even bring his little brother to play with you some time knowing you both liked each other so much.

“Y/n Nee-san, let's play one more game after this!” the younger Uchiha cheered with a nintendo switch in his hand.

“Sure, I'd love to.” you smiled.

Itachi chuckled seeing you and his Little brother being so close and happy with each other.

After some rounds sasuke fell a sleep and Itachi placed him on your bed.

“I'm sorry for troubling you again, Sasuke just like you so much.” the older Uchiha apologiesed.

“It's really fine, i like playing with Sasuke, it's cute.” and Itachi knows it, that's why he brings his little brother with him so often now.

“What about we go out and eat some icecream since Sasuke is asleep?” Itachi asked, you jumped in excitement.

“Yay! I want a f/f one!!” you Chirped making Itachi chuckle.

“Sure, my love.”

The END.

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pkmntrainertrix · 6 months

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MWEHEHEH!! Looks like this Halloween was a success after all!

[There is a link attached. It’s an archive of a livestream. Click on it?]

The video opens with the camera pointing at a guy. Without even saying anything, you can tell he sounds like an influencer. He seems to be standing at the edge of a forest.

“Alright viewers! Moderator and I are here live from the base of Reverse Mountain!” He speaks in a very animated way, full of energy and coated in a thick layer of excitement. When he says the name “Moderator” there’s a happy chirp that almost sounds like it’s coming from the camera.

“Hold onto your hats for this one folks, because the paranormal investigation we’re taking part of today is a strange one!” He gestures for the camera to follow him, and begins walking into the forest.

“Right! So a few years back, there was a report of a torn up campsite. Looked like some massive pokemon had torn through the place, but police never found out what it was. Nor did they figure out the people the campsite belonged to. It’s said that on a few nights of the year, whatever did that to those people roams these woods! And we’re going to find it.”

The air is silent, aside from the sound of the streamer’s idle chitchat and a slight breeze. There’s not a pokemon in sight as a light appears in the distance.

“… ‘turn around’ ‘look behind you’ oh is there something there?” The steamer reads his live chat and turns. Sure enough there’s a bright purple flame in the distance. He doesn’t say anything, but takes a step towards it. The flame goes out.

He laughs nervously.

“Eh, haha. Weird. But uh- maybe it’s trying to get us to come that way-“ He stops mid sentence and pales. There’s a worried chirp from behind the camera, and it moves closer to him.

“No Moderator. It’s fine. Just… did you hear that? It… sounded like a sob.” The camera shook like it was saying no.

“… right! Let’s keep going then! Some Litwick in the woods won’t scare me away!” He continues ahead. The camera follows hesitantly behind.

After a few minutes of walking, they stumble onto a campsite. There’s nothing but dying orange embers and torn supplies. A sleeping bag hangs halfway out of a huge gash in the tent.

“Wow. Real big thing most have come through here huh chat? What do you all think it is?… ‘Druddigon.’ I think it was an Urasring!’ ‘Clearly this is the work of a very angry Liepard’ Hah! Must have been one pissed off Liepard then…” He pauses for a second to think. Right as the streamer goes to say something, a loud cry cuts through the air. Both the camera and the influencer flinch.

“Okay, surely you all heard it this time right?? Right??” The camera quickly shook its head yes. He thought for a second.

“How- how about I leave it for a vote? Yeah, yeah. Good idea! Vote on if I should go see it or not!” The poll graphic is shown on screen. Almost instantly, the percent of people who want him to continue jumps way up. The streamer tries to act like it’s just a big joke and his fear is the punchline, but it’s clear there’s something out of his control going on here. The poll ends, and he sighs.

“Man you guys want to kill me huh? Alright. Cmon Moderator let’s get going.” The dead leaves crunch underfoot as the two slowly approach the source of the noise.

There’s a large… thing. Sitting in a clearing. It has long black fur around its neck and covering its eyes, blue scales for skin, long lanky arms and legs tipped with claws, and a strong jaw full of teeth. It’s crying. Long, painful breaths draw up and release as loud cries. The camera closely watches it for a minute, before turning to look at the streamer. He looks genuinely terrified. The monster in front of him scares him so much his body is shaking. Once again the camera approaches to try and comfort him.

“No, no! Moderator stop that! Keep away!” The creature’s head snaps up. A long, slimy tongue lolls out of its mouth. It jumps up, and bolts over. The streamer screams, throwing what looks to be an Ultraball at the monster. It catches the ball in its mouth and shatters it to pieces with one crunch, causing the influencer to scream and run towards the camera as the video abruptly ends.

#//i am not proofreading this I am so tired💗oh my god.#pokeblogging #rotumblr #pkmn irl #long post

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dudefrommywesterns · 2 years

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Title: Why Does My Heart Skip a Crazy Beat?

Ship: Mike x Peter Ballard

Words: 1.6k

Description: Peter has developed a crush on one of the nurses.

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, general negativity

Wake up.

Go to breakfast.

Assist with lessons.

Eat again.

More lessons.

Sleep.

Peter knew the routine like he knew his own mind. He needed it. He hated it.

There was comfort in doing the same time day after day. It was certain, and perhaps in another place, it was safe.

Nothing was safe in Hawkins Laboratory.

He loathed the routine. He felt like he in a perpetual state of waiting. Waiting for what exactly he wasn't sure. For an escape? For the sweet release of death?

He didn't want to die, not really. No one ever did. Still, it would be a change. It would end the dullness of life.

Even the horrors had become dull. The severe punishments Dr. Brenner gave his experiments had become ordinary. Another slap, another shock, another lecture.

He had cried all his tears and pleaded all his words away. All there was left was complacency, and a deep hatred lurking beneath a pristine button up and boyish smile.

No, there was something else, something only Peter knew.

He had accompanied the children to the nurses many times so that their injuries could be tended to. He would wait in the room for no more time than it took the child to be carried to, or walked to the hospital bed. He would say what needed healing, then he would smile, and he would leave.

These days he found himself around the nurses more often. It had started with standing in the doorway just a bit too long. Then he smiled just a bit too genuinely. He found himself starting conversations. Then, he went out of his way to be near the nurses.

He was there now, watching them go about their work. There was no injured child in sight. They were thumbing through paperwork.

Peter had lost track of how long he had been staring for. He hoped that no one would notice: he wasn't in the mood to be tased today.

It felt like he already was. His heart was filled with electricity. Unlike the shocks to punish him, this feeling was good and he wanted it to last forever.

One of the nurses looked up from their paperwork. “Shouldn't you be in the rainbow room, Peter?”

He liked how they said his name.

“Oh, yes. I should be going.”

They smiled at him and he felt like his heart would take flight.

The thought of them eased the pain when he was tased later for missing his duties.

He saw them again at breakfast the next morning.

They always sat alone.

Peter felt almost sorry for them. He was too afraid to sit next to them. They couldn't possibly like him. No one ever liked him.

He had been standing in the middle of the cafeteria staring at them a bit too long. They had taken notice of him.

“Peter?” They called to him. “You can come sit with me.”

Peter looked around. He could pretend he hadn't heard them and sit somewhere else.

They were smiling at him. It was a small, polite smile but it made his insides turn to mush.

He supposed he might as well take advantage of any shred of happiness he could get in this horrid place.

“Mike,” he said cordially as he sat down.

“Are you alright?” they asked him.

“Hm?”

“I heard from the noc shift nurse that you came in with electrical burns last night. You weren't punished too badly, were you?”

He managed a smile. “I'll be alright.”

“How are the lessons going?”

“As usual,” Peter said.

Mike leaned in closer. He could smell a hint of their shampoo.

“Between you and me, do you have a favorite one of the children?”

“It's not fair to pick favorites.”

“No,” Mike said. Barely above a whisper they added, “But Brenner does. Eleven.”

Peter smiled. Eleven was outcast in the group. She had struggled in most of her lessons but she showed potential. The others were often mean to her. There was something about her…He almost thought he saw himself in her.

“By the look on your face, I would guess Eleven is your favorite too.”

“She shows promise,” he said.

“Not as much as Two,” Mike said. “Two is the most capable.”

“Maybe.”

“What were you doing in the doorway yesterday?” Mike asked.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat.

“I needed to think.”

“Is the rainbow room that loud?”

“Objects are always moving in there. There's always a clang, or a clack, or a click.”

“You're always welcome at the nurses’ station, if you need to do any more thinking.”

Peter chuckled softly. “I think I will stick to my duties from now on.”

“I don't think I've ever heard you laugh,” Mike said. “It's nice.”

Peter felt his cheeks heat up. He cleared his throat. “I should go.”

“Of course,” Mike said quickly. “Have a good day.”

It was a pleasantry. There were no good days in the lab. Still, it lightened Peter’s heart to know that Mike would like him to have one.

Peter made his way into the rainbow room. The children had only just woken up and most of them were still half asleep.

Eleven was by the plinko as she usually was. She could never seem to get it quite right. He took a seat by her.

“Which number are you aiming for today?” he asked her.

“Five,” said Eleven.

“Any luck?” he asked.

Eleven frowned. “No.”

She looked up at him and gasped. “You are bright pink. Are you okay?”

Peter lifted a hand to his cheek. He was still blushing from his interaction with Mike.

“Yes, I'm alright,” he said.

“Do you know why you are pink?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Eleven asked.

“Return to your game,” was all Peter said.

He slipped out of the room and watched from behind the two-way mirror for most of the day.

Later, one of the younger children felt lightheaded. Peter found himself at the nurse’s station again.

“Hello, Peter,” Mike greeted pleasantly. “Hello, Ten.”

“Hello,” said Ten.

“He feels lightheaded,” said Peter.

Mike patted the hospital bed, “Have a seat.”

Peter watched them as they talked to Ten and tried to decide how best to remedy his lightheadedness.

They turned to him. “I have this handled. You can go now.”

Peter nodded and left.

He cursed himself on the way out. He was completely out of his element. He had never dated anyone before.

It was unlikely he would get the opportunity now. Even if Mike was interested, which was doubtful, there was no way this would be allowed. They would have to sneak around like lovesick teenagers. It was entirely absurd.

They'd have to brush hands in the hallways and steal kisses in closets. Every sweet nothing would be whispered in the other’s ear.

The more he let himself think about it, the less absurd it became. He wanted to love them.

He had not felt love in a very long time.

Would it be worth it to put his heart out there to be hurt?

He had become a shell of himself. Just existing. No powers, no true human connection.

Mike sat alone at meals.

Maybe they would understand him.

He caught them in the hallway just before lights out.

Without thinking, he grabbed their wrist. Their skin was soft to the touch.

Mike smiled at him. “Hi, Peter.”

He struggled to keep his legs from turning to jelly when they said his name.

Now that he was looking at them, he didn't know what he was going to say.

“May I ask you something?”

Mike nodded.

“Do you, do you like me?”

Mike laughed then said “Yes, of course I like you, silly.”

“You're always so nice to me,” Mike added. “I think you might be my only friend here.”

Peter couldn't stop a frown from forming on his face. “Friend?”

“Oh, I thought- well, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed you wanted to be friends.”

Mike pulled away but he held his grip.

“No! You're the only person worth being friends with.”

“I don't know about that,” Mike said.

“I do,” Peter said firmly. “You're the only friend I want.”

Mike smiled.

“You're the only one I want,” Peter said.

Peter took a deep breath and asked, “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Is that an invitation to kiss you or are you literally asking that?”

“Kiss me.”

Mike looked around. “There are cameras watching.”

“Meet me in that closet over there.”

Mike did as they were told and the pair found themselves in the dark, crammed between full shelves.

“How long have you wanted to kiss me?” Mike asked him.

“I don't know,” he said. “Time is easy to lose in this place.”

“Let's not lose any more of it.”

Mike took Peter’s face in their hands and pressed a delicate kiss to his lips. They ran their fingers through his hair and made a mess of it.

Every one of their interactions had made his body buzz with electricity. Now that he was kissing them, all felt at peace. Everything stopped. Time. His thoughts. The world.

There was no rush.

He felt free.

“Don't stop,” he told them when they pulled away to breathe.

“Do you want me to die kissing you?” Mike asked him jokingly.

“Would it be so bad?”

“Yes,” Mike said. “I would never get to kiss you again.”

“You want to kiss me again?”

“I like you, Peter,” Mike said. “Very much.”

He took a moment, just to stare at them. How long the moment was, he didn't know and didn't care.

They kissed again, and for a moment, Peter felt as if he transcended time.

#self shipping community #self ship #♡ i know what it's like to be different — ⌜ peter ballard ⌟#typewriter dings

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hangmanssunnies · 1 year

Note

Hello. I’m back. I’m moved. I’ve read it. It was fucking incredible (as I knew it would be). It’s so good (so good!) I need four hundred billion more words of it right now. First of all, Marlee and Javy deserve besties of the century awards. Throughout they are so kind and caring, my heart cannot take it. Jake using all my favorite petnames - sweetheart, honey, sugar (even the ma’am usage is adorable)!!! I think my favorite thing about this is that Jake is so clearly a hurt, little boy inside. The way you write his pain and anger, especially after the porch incident and then discussing how Javy (his teammate, best friend, brother) called him an asshole was just heart breaking. This man is touch starved, he doesn’t allow himself to express emotions, and he very clearly is bottling everything up and pushing it down until it gets so bad he can’t function anymore (see the puzzle). But the fact that he’s starting to be affectionate, allowing some smaller/easier emotions to be felt (or at least trying to help the reader work through her emotions), and allowing help from his friends shows the start of growth. Both the obvious and subtle protectiveness is so sweet. Always choosing to stand between the one he cares about and the trouble, while also answering the door (even though he never explicitly says please let me answer the door). COMPLETING THE FINAL DOUBLE TAP FOR HIM BECAUSE HE’S TOO BUSY HEART EYEING BUT WE ALL KNOW IT’S IMPORTANT TO HIM??? *cries and screams* AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AGREEING TO MOD PODGE IT AND HANG IT BETWEEN THEIR BEDROOM DOORS???!?!! *falls down the stairs because of the tears blocking my vision* And finally… the crème de la crème of part one… the puzzle table. The first thing that got me is that it’s a month later. He’s been thinking about this for a long time, finally has decided to bring it up (is he ready to share his idea? is he slightly tipsy? can he just not hold it in anymore?) and decides to share while cuddling on the couch. I read this as my movers were loading big stuff into the truck and I genuinely had to sit down in my newly empty closet. This last section was so sweet (and a tiny bit heartbreaking, all of Jake’s vulnerability out in the open) it made my chest feel so warm. (Also Jake liking his hair played with and tugged? I see you.) Below is my all time favorite bit of part one (which I read two more times today after the original). I’m so excited for part two, I can’t wait to read it!!!

You can’t help but let your hands slip back into Jake’s hair, and he returns to sketching on his notepad. It was a moment of quiet peace you knew you didn’t ever want to let go of.

"Javy said that you don’t like to do puzzles with other people, and that’s what helps you pull out of the pit."

Jake’s eyes don’t leave his notepad, and he turns the page. You watch Jake start to scrawl the pros of a dovetail joint versus a dowel joint before he starts to draw it out as well. You almost don’t think he will say anything back by the time he finally does.

"You aren’t other people,” Jake tells you.

I'll be honest friend and say your comments left me so flabbergasted and flattered I haven't known what to say. I keep rereading these and giggling while working on part two. I wish I had more eloquent words to express how I felt reading your thoughts. All I can say is

Thank you, thank you, thank you thankyou. THANK YOU!!!!! THanK YoUU !!! <333333333333333

#I really am so #blown away #also #did you secretly already read some of Part two #bc you really picked up so much of what I was shooting for #double tap #Thank you !#I'm sorry I took so long to answer

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dearlordsanta · 2 years

Text

Not alone, but lonely

It's been a while since I've posted on here. My last post I said I was determined to post more frequently, and I am, but the last month has been an extremely hard month. So, if anyone reads these for whatever reason, I am sorry.

What spurred me into writing this one today is a post from a 'Caregivers Support Group" I belong to. Someone said that their friends and family would think they were being dramatic when they said they were lonely. "How can you be lonely? Your loving spouse is literally home all the time!"

When I saw that post in our group, I almost cried I felt so horribly for her because that's literally what it's like. When you have a spouse who is chronically ill in general, you get a lot of non-believers. My husband has been unable to work for over three years now and I constantly get berated for enabling him. "He's just being lazy, there is no reason he can't work, even his doctor said it." This is true. The first doctor he had said that. She basically told him to stop being such a baby and get back to work because he should be able to. She was from the Mayo Clinic, the best of the best, so doctors we saw after that told us there was no reason to get a second opinion, it was really frustrating. Now that we're finally with the right doctor, I wish I would have pushed sooner to get a new doctor. People also ask, "Is he really that sick?" Yes. He is. He is either in pain or so tired he can barely stand about 90% of the time. Not that my friends and family believe it. They met him before he got sick...so energetic, silly, optimistic, and full of life. "Why can't he just work from home? He should do something." Can you think of any employer who would be flexible enough for that? I can't. For example, as I said before, this month has been really hard. He's been fatigued and in pain for a month straight. He can barely stand, he's sleeping 12-16 hours a day, and can't even stand up long enough to shower. I've barely spoken to him in weeks. You tell me, can someone like that hold down a job?

Anyway, I am digressing too far from the point. Allow me to circle back. Yes, my husband is home all the time. The person in my group who made that post today, their spouse is home all the time too, but it's still lonely. Why is it that people have no trouble believing that a mom at home with a brand-new baby can be lonely, but look at caregivers like they've grown a second head when they say they are lonely? The person from my group said people ask, "how can you be so lonely when your loving spouse is home all the time?"

Let me explain.

Does my husband love me? Of course, he does. Do I love him? Absolutely, I do. However, the man that is normally here, is not the man I married. The man I married was adventurous, funny, fearless, optimistic, determined, a hard worker, and generally, a genuinely happy guy. The man that is normally here is tired, in pain, frustrated that he can't do little things, frightened of leaving the house on good days because what if his feeling well doesn't last, he's angry because he can't contribute, he's sad because he knows I'm having a hard time and can't do anything to help, and he's lost the spark. The spark that made him who he was. There are sometimes weeks at a time when I don't see him at all. He's only up for a couple hours at a time, but if I am working or sleeping when that time rolls around, I don't see him. In the last month, I've said less than a hundred words to him, and he's said even less back to me. It's heartbreaking. It's sad. It's lonely.

This is how it is. If I am lucky, I will get a couple days with the man I married a year. All I can do is hope that he'll rebound from this flare-up and be a little more like himself. Hoping for a conversation once every other month. It's bleak. Really bleak.

So, I cried a little when I responded to that person in my group. That's why that group is so great. It's filled with people who get it! They know what it's like. They know how lonely it is. They know how tiring it is. They know how nerve-wracking it is to leave the house. It's nice to have people who understand.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my TEDTalk. If you're going through something similar, I hope this helped. If you're not going through something like this, count your lucky stars, and be better about being supportive of people in your life who are going through this. I hope you never have to understand what this is like.

#JournalVenting #Caregiver #gastroparesis #type1 #wifeofadiabetic #chronicfatiguesyndrome #NotAloneButLonely #LonelyExistence #HopingForGoodDays #RebellionsAreBuiltOnHope

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ongaku-ato-kakikomi · 2 years

Note

Hello!! Can I please request a part 2 of the Polyamorous relationship with Love and Joe? Like what would happen if they realized that you fell in love with them

PART ONE

- Joe’s the first one to realize the changes in your behavior.

- He came by one day, his hand hold a bag of books he thought you would enjoy, only to find you sitting in a corner and completely enraptured by the words poured onto the pages of one of his favorite books.

- This vision of you made him smile softly; you looked so peaceful, so happy... a nice change to the times where you’d tear apart the books and threw the pages gainst the glassed walls just to spite him.

- He gently knocked on the glassed door to let you know of his presence, and when you looked up at him, he felt his heartbeat fastens when he noticed your eyes sparkling up and your lips stretching into a smile.

- “Joe, hi! I was hoping I’d see you today.”

- Those words along struck him as unusual; you never hoped to see him, always hoped he wouldn’t come by, but he took this a step forward towards your shared future.

- “Got stuck doing a few things at work.” He showed off the bag he was holding, a look of interest immediately taking over you when you see it. “Found a few books I thought might interest you.”

- You chuckled and gently closed the book you were just reading, ready to stand up.

- “Well, if it’s as good as this one, I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.”

- When he saw you walk towards the exchange box with an excited grin, it made him realize that you words and actions were truly genuine.

- You weren’t playing his and Love’s game to get out of here, to flee them; unlike Beck, you were truly enjoying spending your time down here, and he couldn’t even see a hint of fear in your eyes whenever he’d look at you.

- “Come on, give them to me!” You got him back to reality when by speaking up, your hands gently clapping together with excitement. “I wanna know what you got me!”

- It truly made him happy to see you enjoy his gifts so much, to see your eyes sparkle up as you read the titles of the books he picked specifically for you.

- When he said he neede to go back to work, ou looked at him with a disappointed light in your eyes, a sad pout rapidly forming on your lips.

- “But you’ve only been here five minutes! Can’t you stay a little longer? Please?”

- The moment you pronounced those words, Joe knew you had been missing him, that you were starting to fell for him.

- It almost made his hands shake from all the relief and excitement he was feeling.

- “I really need to go.” His heart would squeeze in pain at the sight of your disappointment, but the happiness of knowing his and Love’s plan was working made him forget the heartache. “But I tell you what... when I come by later, I’ll sit in that corner and read a book with you.”

- Your expression changed for a happy one soon after, and he felt his heart sore even more when you gently pressed your hand against the glass.

- “I’ll be waiting for you.”

- That evening, for the first time since he and Love held you captive, was the one he truly felt the happiest in his entire life.

- You were snuggled in his arms, your head pressed against his shoulder as you both read his favorite book in the corner of the glass box.

- The door was opened the entire time, but you didn’t even glance at it once.

- It was the moment he knew you loved him too, maybe not as much as he does yet, but you loved him enough to not want to leave anymore, and that was more than enough for him.

- A few weeks later, as you’re reading together the fourth book in your snuggled corner, he lets himself kiss you.

- And when he felt you kiss him back, he almost cried from the upper joy he was feeling in this very moment.

- Love knows the moment she sees you the very next morning Joe noticed the changes, but her mind is so filled with doubts and insecurities that she didn’t let herself believe it at first.

- “Wow, these are so good!” You said after taking a bite out of your breakfast muffin, a genuine smile on your lips as you stared at her with a spark in your eyes. “Did you change the recipe?”

- She did, and you noticed; it made her heart sore with excitement, and even though she doubted you were faking it, she couldn’t help but let her lips stretch into a wide grin.

- “I thought you’d like them better that way.”

- “I do! I think they’re about to become my favourites.” You took another bite right after you said these, a moan of satisfaction coming out of your throat right after. “... yep! Definitely my favourites.”

- She felt so happy to see you so openly friendly with her, her heart still feeling the pain from those days where you’d refused to even look at her, also refusing to take even a single bite of food.

- It was agonizing to see you killing yourself, but now? Now you were enjoying every single bite of her baking goods and cooked meal, sometimes even asking if she had some more to give you when you were done.

- As the minutes of this shared lunch time passed by, her doubts drifted away and she realized that you were genuine.

- Before that day, the only times you would speak would be to ask her questions about the other people in your life: your family, your friends, your... questionable boyfriend.

- But today, you barely touched these subjects, giving your full-attention to her and what she’s been up to these last few days.

- She had to stop herself from letting tears of joy fall down her cheeks; you were trusting her, falling for her, but you weren’t quite enough there to say “I love you” back to her or Joe.

- It took a few days for her to take the next step: have dinner with you in the caged glass.

- Like Joe, she was mezmerised by the fact that you weren’t even interested by the opened door, instead exchanging laughter and anecdotes over your shared meal with her.

- She couldn’t help but reach out to grasp your hand, and a tear shed from her eye when you squeezed it back and gave her a soft smile.

- Eventually, with each meal you shared, she let herself reach out for your touch more: holding hangs, kissing the back of your palms, hugging you closely, gently pressing her mouth against yours.

- Her and Joe couldn’t be happier, both of them gleaming with pure joy whenever they would talk about your progress in their own shared time.

- Once they were sure you loved them as much as they loved you, that’s when they both rise the idea of letting you back into the world... with each of them close to your side to protect you at all cost.

- “... you’re letting me out?”

- Joe gave out a soft smile to answer your words, while Love was excitedly nodding her head at you.

- “If you promise not to run-”

- You immediately promised without even thinking, eagerly waiting for them to unlock the door for you.

- Not gonna lie, a few doubts clouded their minds while Joe was unlocking the door.

- But when he opened it, and they saw you leap into his arms for a tight hug, a rush of relief washed over them, and their smiles widened onto their cheeks.

- Joe laughed as he hugged you back, only letting you go so you could give Love a hug as well.

- They were in love with you, and you were in love with them.

- And nothing could now get in-between the three of you.

#you #love quinn #joe goldberg #love quinn imagine #love quinn imagines #love quinn x reader #joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg imagines #love x reader x joe #joe x love x reader #imagine #imagines #x reader #reader insert #you imagine #you imagines #you x reader #request #requests

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goldandlights · 2 years

Text

Brainrot today: Thinking about the first time Hitoshi stayed with Shouta/Hizashi overnight :(

I'm kinda stuck on the thought that it might take MONTHS to sink in that Erasermic have adopted him genuinely because they want to become his parents, rather than it just being a bureaucratic convenience.

Maybe there's along weekend cause of a holiday and all students are to go home for that period. Hitoshi avoids thinking about it, assuming an exception will be made for him so he can stay at the dorms and not bother anyone.

He avoids thinking about it because it hurts, imagining all his classmates enjoying time with their families while he is left behind alone. Maybe Aizawa will make time for training despite it being a day off for the teachers, too, but though Hitoshi tries to gather all his courage, he doesn't even dare to ask.

His teacher has already done so, so much for him. Hitoshi has no right to demand any more, especially if it cuts into the older mans private time. Surely Aizawa will want to spend the mini-holiday with his husband, rather than entertaining his depressed teenage dependant.

He's not surprised when Aizawa holds him back after class, expecting to be told the rules attached to staying at the dorms unsupervised. Instead, Aizawa informs him that he and Mic would have to stay late to finish up work, but would fetch Shinsou from the dorms at around 7PM. They were planning to eat out before going home and if Shinsou had any food preferences, he should put them into their group chat.

Hitoshi is still stuck on the bit about "going home" (all three of them! Hitoshi included!) when Aizawa looks up from his documents, frowning.

"You look surprised."

"Uhm. Yeah, I- I kinda thought I'd be staying at the droms?"

Aizawa's frown deepens, "Would you... prefer that?"

"No," Hitoshi says hastily, swallowing against the painful clenching of his stomach, "But I don't wanna impose on you. You and Yamada-sensei probably have plans for the weekend," he looks away, unable to meet his teacher's piercing gaze, "You shouldn't have to change them because of me."

"Hm," Aizawa makes a considering noise, then stands up, "It would be much more disruptive to our plans if you didn't come," he says neutrally, and though Hitoshi still can't look up at his face, too afraid of what his own expression might reveal, the softness of teacher's voice is unmistakable.

Warmth radiates from where Aizawa's hand touches Hitoshi's shoulder as he's passing by, nurturing the tentative hope blossoming in the teen's chest.

"Pack enough for 4 days and bring a book or something. We'll have a long drive on Friday."

"Oh -okay? Where a we going?"

"You'll see, kid."

--------------------------

They take Hitoshi to universal studios japan :( Because he's a big fucking nerd and probably loves Harry Potter :((

And Hitoshi feels so embarrassed because he almost cried like fifteen times throughout the weekend and finally breaks down when they roll into the carpark and he realizes where they are

Just full-on, ugly crying that lasts a good 15 minutes and he kind of wants to die when he notices the big, wet spot he left on Aizawa's shirt from sobbing into his shoulder like a baby

He doesn't get to apologize though, because Aizawa just pulls him in again and hugs him so tight, no words could pass his lips.

"You're with us now, kid. And we won't let you go."

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suguruverse · 3 years

Note

ohkay hi! may i just say, that i've just encountered your blog and i am already LOVING IT period. i just love it. it's amazing.

alright, i was thinking maybe you could do something like first meeting headcanons. and hopefully for the manager of karasuno 👀 (i was mainly thinking of the manager being a second year but ig it's not that important) it could be something like meeting at a training camp, or at a game, or at nationals, something like that. and i was thinking kuroo, oikawa and atsumu i love that man so much fml

that would be it ly! 💘

— FIRST MEETINGS WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS AS KARASUNO’S MANAGER

includes - kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru and miya atsumu

a/n - hi bub!! hehe thank you for your support i love you <33 i loved this req lmao hope you like it!

♕ KUROO TETSUROU

- bro lets be completely honest, he is an absolute stuttering mess when he first meets you

- he doesn't even realise that you can see him just staring at you for a solid five minutes

- this man has 0 experience with picking up girls so he will just be saying the worst pick up lines ever or some random fact that no one cares about

- it was the first day of the tokyo training camp with karasuno, nekoma and fukurodani and you and some of the other manager's were in charge of making lunch and dinner

- since you were in the kitchen basically for the entire day, you never really had the change to meet any other the other players

- once dinner arrives, they all flood into the cafeteria looking a little bit... dead?

- you serve them their food, only receiving a toneless "thank you"

- until kuroo walked in, as rowdy and loud as he is

- when he arrived in front of you to get his rice and soup, he just stopped and looked at you

"good work today! here's your food"

kuroo: o-o

"um is there something on my face?"

"p...pretty"

"im sorry"

"YOU'RE REALLY PRETTY"

- when i tell you the silence that just filled up the room

*bokuto in the background* "BRO ASK HER OUT LATER, YOU'RE HOLDING UP THE LINE, I'M HUNGRY"

- and then he just awkwardly runs away to his table where kenma was and just plopped on the table, his face hiding in his arms while kenma is just very uncomfortably patting kuroo's back in comfort

- the next day at breakfast, you sneaked your number onto his food tray (that was on a piece of paper) and he didn't even notice it was there until he nearly ate it

- from that day on, you'll just see him awkwardly trying to make conversation with you

- when you switched with yachi to help out the boys during the day like filling up water bottles and shit, kuroo is trying to impress you but is also doing incredibly shitty at the same time

- he pulled a hinata a couple times and got hit straight in the face by bokuto

- but to his surprise, you were already in the nurse's office because tanaka starting waving his shirt around and accidentally hit nishinoya right in the nose

- kuroo acts like he had a broken arm or something just so you can baby him

- he genuinely believes in love at first sight and asks you out at the end of the training camp lol he has no patience

♕ OIKAWA TOORU

- it was at the spring high preliminaries and both teams were warming up

- it was his turn to spike when boom bam he hits you straight in the face

oikawas brain: oh no i hit pretty girl. i should ask pretty girl if she's okay. pretty girl really pretty

- while daichi is trying to stop noya and tanaka from ripping oikawas hair out, he was already running towards you, asking if you were okay

- you insisted you were okay as you were kind of embarrassed with the crowd watching you, and soon after, the game had began

- oikawa was already thinking of 12 ways he could apologise to you but for now, he had to focus on the game

- whenever there was a timeout or break, he noticed the small twitches in your eye and the bruises that were faint, but still there

- although the game had resulted in karasuno's win, oikawa couldn't help but feel worse when he saw you wince in pain when hinata excitedly pulled you into his chest for a hug

- kiyoko recommended you go to the nurse's office but there was no point since you were about to leave anyways

- like kuroo, this man acts as if no one can see him staring at you like a creep for afar

- you rolled your eyes for the 30th time that day when oikawa approached you again as you were about to get on the bus

"hey you! are you sure you're okay?"

"im fine, thanks"

"are you sure? is there something you want me to do for you?"

- he doesn't really know how to continue this conversation so he just stands there, waiting for you to say something

"you seem a little desperate oikawa-san"

- he turns into a blushing mess when you tease him and you cannot tell me otherwise

"what about a date then? as an apology. i don't think i can sleep at night if i don't at least try to make it up to you"

"sorry not interested"

"OH right.. sorry i just thou-"

"i was just joking oikawa-san, tomorrow at 5?"

"YES"

- on the date he keeps mentioning how nervous he was because of how pretty he thought you were and how he couldn't sleep

- love sick bitch

- he also tries to be so damn smooth as well and he thinks that it's working but it really isn't

- pls for the love of god just boost his ego he needs it

- i swear you could be celebrating your 3 year anniversary but he will still be mentioning that day, telling everyone how it was fate or whatever

- and you could be on the side like what mf my face hurt for like 3 weeks shut up

♕ MIYA ATSUMU

- yay we're at nationals

- anyways the venue was fucking massive so you'll end up getting lost right?

- well yes, but you didn't really expect it to be when you were trying to escort hinata to the fucking toilets

- it was only 20 minutes until their match against inarizaki was gonna start and that mf was still in the bathroom

- and you can't exactly enter the men's bathroom so you just started pacing in front of the door like a psycho

- conveniently atsumu and suna were walking to the bathroom and saw you just muttering to yourself

- he honestly thought you were some time of perv and hella weird

"OI CREEP, what the hell a ya doing?" says the man with piss hair and reeks of axe

- and like a movie, you turn around, hair flipping in the wind and he can hear angels singing and a bright light surrounds you

- mans is on the flooring crying because wtf he just saw the most beautiful person he's ever seen

- pls snap him out of it, ur friend is probably shitting his pants in the toilets behind you and you need to see if he's okay

- he cannot keep eye contact for the life of him

- you could just be like "i'm really sorry but im the mangager for karasuno and one of my friends are in there, so can you just check on him pls"

- and he'll just smile and nod at whatever you say like "mhm yeah totally karasuno? mhm thats hot, wanna go out with me?"

- atsumu is like a demon possessed him and suna out here watching him like tf i just need to take a piss man shut up

- yeah you left with atsumu's number and left hinata all alone

- he left the bathroom and almost cried when he realised he got ditched for dick

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levixreader · 3 years

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Dad!Levi x Mum!Reader - It's Just a Hobby

Charlotte: French name meaning freedom Summary: You woke up alarmed at the metallic shriek echoing in your room. Your angry husband sat a the far end of the room... sharpening his blades?... at three in the morning? Oh God, what did Charlotte do this time.

Warning: Pure fluffiness, Levi deserves happiness ;v;

Inspired by @cakeswashere prompt:

Y/N: are you angry? or...

Levi: no.

Y/N: so sharpening your blades at 3am is just a hobby then?

Daughter of Mine(Chapter I)| Master List|Requests| Next Chapter

It's Just a Hobby

Sheeeeeeek

It was a sharp, almost metallic in nature shriek. You tossed in your sleep, your brain still half unconscious.

Had you imagined it?

It sounded familiar. Where you having another dream of your time at the Corps?

All this talk about Charlotte joining the military was definitely not doing you any favours. It was scratching at the back of your head the obscure memories you kept hidden away. Ever since you had pushed Levi into taking her to work, every night, without fail, the deformed hands of your demons came to grab you at night.

Yesterday Levi had shaken you awake. You were sweating in your sleep, haunted by the last expression of your friends, of your family. Some nights, your dreams were so vivid that you were convinced that the life you had now was… imagined.

How had Charlotte convinced you that it was a good idea to join? Ah, yes, her unwavering spirit. Stubborn and passionate to the core, just like her father. Erwin had earned Levi and his constant devotion to the cause had earned Charlotte.

Truly, she had worn you down. She would talk as if she had been in the military for as long as she was alive. She had convinced every single one of her friends to join. Of course, she had worn you down. Children, you had discovered, had a way to make you feel like you could endure anything as long as it made them happy. Even if that meant spinning directly into a titan’s jaws. You shivered. Tonight, marked the beginning of winter and with it the fast approach of harsh months.

How could you selfishly stand in her way? She was the carbon copy of your husband, down to his unhuman like traits. She was fast and strong, but that didn’t make her cocky, it made her aware of just how far she could go. So when she had implored you to let her join the military… You caved because you knew your daughter, nothing you could say, not even the hellish nightmares you conjured now, would deter her from joining.

Levi could though. You didn’t have the heart or the will power to stand against her, she was, after all, a force of nature like Levi. So, it made sense that he could and did stand against her. So firmly opposed that he would rather sacrifice his relationship with her than watch her wear forest green.

I would never want to feel responsible if something were to happen to you.

His words had rung deep within you. Levi was strong, the strongest in fact. He had carried with his best friend’s death, carried the guilt of every death, carried the title of strongest, but, he could never carry the responsibility of the death of his only child.

Your heart ached. For months now, you had tried to convince yourself that you already waited with your heart of your throat every time Levi sat you down at the kitchen table to tell you there would be a new excursion. You could do the same with Charlotte. Right?

It was different. You knew it was different. You were all too aware of it. So, you settled. Settled to be thankful that where you lack the willpower, Levi could. Maybe, you had thought, that having her shadow Levi for a couple of days would show her a glimpse into a world she could never have thought of. You hadn’t. Not even Levi, who lived in the underground, had.

Sheeeeeek

You shot up. Straight up.

That had been the sound of a knife getting sharpened.

In a panic, your eyes scanned the room, your hand already reaching for your bedside table, inching into the drawer on the hidden weapon inside. You could feel your heart lodged in your trachea. All you could think was of your daughter and how to get to her as quick as possible. But, then, your eyes landed at the corner at the far back. It was Levi, seated in the leather chair he liked so much.

Relief, ice-cold relief washed over your stiffened body. Instantly, you relaxed at the sight of the familiar presence. Your heart unable to dislodge from your throat, the exhaustion weighing down at your body once again.

What the hell was he doing?

Shreeeeeeek

You felt a new wave of alertness wash over you. Something glimmered, you squinted, your tiered eyes fell to his lap.

There was a blade.

Shreeeeeeek

He was sharpening his blades.

He was sharpening his blades at three in the morning.

Oh, God.

Shreeeeeeek

Cried the sound of metal. He was hunched in the chair, hadn’t bothered taking off his uniform, or boots for that matter. His right leg on top of his left thigh. One of his blades rested across his lap. You sat there watching as he expertly manoeuvred the blade making it glimmer even in the darkest of nights.

Something was bothering him.

You sighed, the adrenalin leaving your body. It had been a minute since you last felt it course through your body like earlier. You had genuinely thought that there had been an intruder in the house. You were a light sleeper, years retired from the military could never kill that habit. It had saved you more than once.

You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until you untangled whatever Levi’s brain was scrambling. It was Charlotte, you were sure of it. After the little incident at the beginning of the week, she had somehow squeezed a promise to not react like he did that day. How she did it you would never know. It took years -years- to get him to not impulsively confront any man that would even slightly look at you the wrong way. You were certain that something must have happened again and the frustration of being powerless had him sitting, sharpening his disposable blades at such an ungodly hour.

This was it. The time had come to have “The Talk” with Levi. You had been preparing for this ever since Charlotte turned sixteen. You had already noticed the attention she garnered whenever she accompanied you to the market. How some of her oldest male friends would stare a second too long. It was bound to happen eventually. You had prepared for it, Levi… not so much.

“Morning”, you said the bedsheets still pooled at your waist. Even with the window closed, you could feel the cold air prickling your skin, like small needles. He frowned, not really expecting you to wake up. He had already spent an hour on his other blades, this was his last one. “How was work today?”, you insisted. He grunted. He at least acknowledged you. He wasn’t feeling all that talkative at the moment.

Shreeeeeek

The sound of the metal echoing across the room. This man was impossible. Like father, like daughter, two stubborn mules unwilling to bend or move in their convictions. You were convinced that when God created stubbornness, Levi was first in line, closely followed by Charlotte.

“Somethings never change”, you thought shaking you head slightly. Unceremoniously, you yanked the sheets from your lower body. You shivered, the cold air now attacking your legs. Levi’s face remained turned down, his eyes, however, sneaked a peek at you. He had heard you move. You were, to his dismay, heading towards his direction. He noticed the hair of your forearms standing to attention. You were cold. He clicked his tongue; he wasn’t ready to go to bed, anger still bubbling at his feet. He frowned, returning his attention at the weapon in his hand.

Shreeeeeeek

“Are are you angry?”, he heard you ask softly. No answer. You grouched in front of his legs so that your face was in his direct eyesight. He gripped the handle of the blade, his eyes moving to observe the end of it. He was avoiding you. “no.”, he curtly answered. He looked stoic. “Stubborn, stubborn man”, you thought. You placed a numbed hand on his twisted knee. His eyebrows knitted together refusing to look at you, opting to look at your hand. You looked paler than usual.

Did she have another nightmare?

You smiled amused, “So sharpening your blades at three in the morning is just a hobby then?”, you asked sarcastically. His frown deepened, he didn’t answer. “Tell me what’s bothering you”, you pushed, the tips of your fingers going a bit numb. He sighed knowing you weren’t going to let this go and if needed would freeze half to death until he talked. “And you think Charlotte is stubborn because of me”, he thought. Charlotte, he frowned again the anger bubbling up again.

“Is it Charlotte?”, you asked, even softer than before. You gripped his knee in reassurance. He sighed again, of course, you would know exactly what was bothering him. He couldn’t hide anymore. “I can’t believe she is sixteen”, you said truthfully.

Sixteen years went by like nothing, one day she was too small to even reach the kitchen counter and the next she had a queue of boys lined up. “Fucking hormonal teenagers”, he thought to himself glaring down at the polished blade. He wanted to break the thing in two.

“Our brat is an adult now”, you said giggling pulling him again out of his thoughts. His eyes lifted slightly to look at you, clearly disagreeing with your opinion. Charlotte wasn’t an adult; she was just a brattier brat. “Did one of the cadets flirt with her again?”, you asked smiling sympathetically. His eyes widened and immediately narrowed to the point you thought he had closed his eyes. His jaw clenched, his grip on the weapon made his knuckles turn white.

“A boy”, he corrected. You smiled sadly at his words. “You know she is at that age”, you said earning you a glare. “You know I’m right”, you insisted. He clicked his tongue. You were right. That doesn’t mean he had to voice it. “I know this is very hard for you”, you continued, he looked pained. It had taken everything in him today to not march and punch the titan shifter straight in the face. He knew the look he was giving Charlotte; it was the same look he had given you. He felt his chest burn.

His eyes looked pained, the cold controlled captain melting away. You wanted to hug him, console him and tell him that his baby was still just that: a baby. That Charlotte would not grow up and that she would always call him ‘Daddy’. But this would only hurt him more and would do Charlotte a disservice as her mother.

“Here”, you said standing up offering a hand for him to take. He looked at your hand, eyebrow cocked upwards with curiosity. You rolled your eyes, “Well, take it”, you insisted shaking your hand. Cautiously, he placed his free hand on yours. His eyes narrowing when he felt how cold your fingers felt. In a quick movement, he rested the sharpened blade against the nearest wall and grabbed with both his hands the hand you had offered. “You’re cold”, he commented, making you roll your eyes again at him. “Well hurry up then”, you answered pulling him up. He pouted, finally complying with your request.

You pulled him out of the room towards the hallway in front of Charlotte’s room. His frown returned, “What are we doing here”, he asked, not appreciating the surprise. “Shh”, you said tightening your hold on his hand. As carefully as you could you opened the door to your daughter’s room. She looked tranquil, completely at ease. “Look”, you whispered moving out of the way. Reluctantly, he peaked into Charlotte’s room. His eyes softened and his chest, previously burning with anger, filled with warmth. She looked like a child hugging her favourite stuffed animal. “She isn’t quite an adult yet”, you whispered, “not because some boy is flirting with her means she stopped growing”.

He sighed closing the door just as carefully as you had opened it.

“Let’s have another one”, he said turning to look at you straight to your eyes. “What?”, you said in complete shock. “Let’s have another one”, he repeated closing the gap between the both of you. “What?”, you repeated louder, his hands grabbing your hips. “I said”, he whispered pulling you towards him, “Let’s”, you heard him next to your ear, “have”, you felt his breath on your neck, his nose caressing the base of your neck, “another one”. His teeth dug into your soft skin.

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suyacho · 3 years

Note

#6 with todoroki nnnnnhhhh angst 🥴🥺

MMMM YES- I’m sorry for taking so long but I hope you like it🥺

prompt 3: “What happened to us? We used to be so close.”

prompt list

WARNINGS: gn!reader - angst - break ups - quirk discrimination - popularity hate - falling out of love ig? - not beta read - 1,1k words

You sighed as you packed the last things, taking one last look in the room to check if you had everything, slightly tearing up at all the memories this room held or well, all the memories this house held.

It was Shoto and your place, the place you moved into together after being together for years and started chasing your dreams, not knowing what the future held for the both of you.

You both were deeply in love when you first met, the feelings never fading in the first years of you two chasing your dreams, you were each other’s number one supporter the whole time, always telling each other how proud you were of one another.

Never could you have imagined how bad it would go after a few years, you didn’t wanna imagine it either yet here you were.

Shoto kept gaining more and more popularity as a hero, gaining place in the top 3 heroes. You slowly but surely rose up the charts too, never too high though, you were lucky enough to be in the top 150.

You never minded being there in the hero ranks, you were proud of yourself until things went dark. People slowly started looking more into your quirk, calling it a villain quirk, saying it was an useless quirk and you shouldn’t be a hero.

You hated to admit that those words got to you but how could they not? Especially when your job was risking your life for these people every single day and only to be hit with hate and quirk discrimination when you worked harder than anyone else to become a hero.

You didn’t mind Shoto gaining popularity and having fans either, not until they started hating on you. Hating on you and saying how someone that low didn’t deserve Shoto, saying that Shoto deserved so much better than someone with an useless quirk.

Shoto loved you and you knew that, you never let that bother you and he would always support you, reassure you that he wouldn’t leave you and even speak up on social media about it.

Yet the perfect little picture you two had turned into a nightmare slowly but surely. You didn’t realize it at first, you thought you two were just busy, it was like that at first yet you started to see him less and less.

Your schedules didn’t line up together, you would be working when he was home and the other way around. You two said it was okay and texted each other always, saying you’d get through this rough patch in the relationship yet it didn’t work.

As time went on you barely saw him at home, the only time you spent together was sleeping in bed. Daily texts changed into weekly texts, the long conversations at night turned into goodnights and kisses barely made you feel anything.

It was like Shoto slowly became a stranger in your house, like you slept with a stranger in bed from how little you talked with each other.

You hated to admit it because he was your first love but you were slowly drifting away, both because of your schedules and differences in popularity.

And because he was your first love, you kept telling yourself it would be okay but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Love?” Shoto spoke softly, walking into your shared bathroom as you got out of your thoughts. Shoto got out from work earlier today and decided to come, not expecting to be met with you packing your stuff, leaving him shocked.

“Shoto-“ You mumbled, quickly zipping your bag close and looking him in the eyes. “What are you doing?” Shoto asked and you took a deep breath, playing with your hands nervously.

“Well- Shoto how long are we gonna keep playing this game?” You answered, sitting down on the bed with a sigh. “What game?” Shoto mumbled, realization slowly hitting him, realization of how much you’ve been growing out of each other.

“Shoto…” You whispered, looking away from him as tears built up in your eyes, being too scared to hurt him but knowing this was the best for you. “What happened to us? We used to be so close.” You sighed, sitting there in silence while Shoto knew you were right.

It hit him like a truck and he felt a painful sting in his heart, he genuinely didn’t know where it went wrong but he surely thought he was the only one hurting, not wanting to put the burden on you so he kept it to himself.

“I-I’m sorry.” Shoto quickly apologized, not really knowing what to say or what to do because he knew you were right. “Don’t apologize Sho.” You mumbled, your voice slightly cracking as you finally faced him again, not realizing his face was inches away.

“But it’s my fault.” He whispered quietly, leaning even closer to you. “It’s no one's fault-“ You reassured him, only for him to press his lips against yours almost immediately after.

You close your eyes and let the tears roll down your cheeks, gently holding his face as you deepen the kiss, almost like it was your last kiss together and thinking about the moment, it actually might be.

“I’m so sorry.” Shoto apologized once again after pulling back, resting his forehead against yours, a hint of pain in his voice. You knew it was hard for both of you but holding onto nothing wouldn’t make it better.

“Sho i-it’s okay.” You told him, getting up and quickly wiping your tears away, grabbing your bags after. “Please- We can work this out.” Shoto spoke, almost like he was begging you to stay, only making it harder.

“Stop- it’s okay let’s just let it go Shoto, we’re over we’ll be fine.” You sobbed, not being able to keep your tears in anymore. “But,” He sighed, pausing for a moment and realizing it probably was for the best.

“Even though this is over- p-please remember you’ll always be my only love.” Shoto cried, finally letting his tears roll down as well, leaving you shocked because Shoto wasn’t the type to cry.

“Don’t d-do that, it only makes it worse, you idiot.” You laughed through the pain, looking back at him one more time. “Please take care of yourself for me Sho?” You asked, standing at the front door, knowing that if you didn’t leave now, you never would be able to do so.

“I promise.” He smiled through the tears, the painful sting in both your hearts only getting worse. You took one last deep breath and walked out, knowing it probably was for the best.

If it was meant to be, maybe you’d guys get back together one day but for now it would only hurt each other more.

tags: @lonelyweeb77 @sageyrage @suzuki-violin-school @touyas-peach @justscar @katonshoko @illyaana @half-baked-biscuit @ajaviary @akaza-s-bitch @animenerdgirl @honeypirate @distractionforyourthoughts @ajaviary @voilawind @w0fflegay @avengs @plusultra2dwhore @viper-mxxn @slxttygoddess

if you want to be tagged in future works, click here <3

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punemy-spotted · 3 years

Text

The Price You Pay Chapter 3: Counteroffer

Pairing: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader, Senator!Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements, Dub-Con, Dark!Fic, Abuse of Legal System, Murder, Character Death (minor, possibly major), Love Triangle, Political AU, Mafia AU, Workplace Sexual Harassment, Abuse Mentions, Possessive/Obsessive Characters, Other Chapter-Specific Warnings May Apply, Possible Dead Dove: Would Not Eat

Chapter Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Elements Continue; Dub-Con; Angst; Politics; Possessive/Manipulative Behavior; Spanking; Choking; Crying; The Dove is Probably Dead: Do Not Eat

Chapter Summary: The return of an old friend brings back the ghosts of old memories.

Chapter 1; Chapter 2

Notes: Shorter chapters my ass, these outlines are getting unreal. Andy Barber has arrived, Steve Rogers does not approve, the Reader bears the consequences. Things are going to be angstier from here on out and I can feel it in my bones. Please don’t yell at me — or do, your feedback is well-loved and appreciated even if it’s yelly.

Not beta-read, these sins belong to me and me alone.

You met Andy Barber fresh from the ashes of his divorce, escaping the gossip and scandal and pain of his past life only to dive into the gossip and scandal and pain of politics. Senatorial campaign, in need of an aide and a law student desperate to do more for the people than hours in clinics and mock trials. Hungry for something grassroots, angling for the impossible.

A match. Whether made in Heaven or Hell feels irrelevant now, long ago as it was.

It was then. This… is now.

Hey Sunshine, didn’t think you’d be able to make it.

He looks the same. Keeps the same beard. Same hair. It’s uncanny and familiar and safe all at once and you slide into the booth with your purse by your side and feel genuinely smiley for the first time in a long time.

It’s been a while since I heard that name.

Yeah? It’s been a while since I got to use it.

The silence is heavy, unwelcome, unwieldy, a reminder of the space between what was and what is.

How’re you doing? Last I heard you were making a name for yourself taking down the…

He trails off, eyes fixed on the slide of your gaze, the sudden interest in a drink menu you wouldn’t normally touch, the tremor of your lips. A man doesn’t serve as Assistant District Attorney for the many years he has without picking up tells.

Sunshine.

Andy…

It’s a warning, a plea, a… confession, all at once, and all the dogged determination in the world can’t hold against the break in your voice, in your control. You’ve cried more in the past few weeks than you can recall and now here he is, soulful eyes and a worried expression and he’s never hugged you really, but suddenly you might want it just that much more.

Don’t be an idiot.

It’s dangerous, your stress, and you know it.

Dangerous enough to send you into the arms of the next safe thing — this is why you don’t do this, isn’t it, this reaching out bit, but no advocacy group on the planet is going to save you from yourself today.

I saw… I saw you win that case. Pretty brutal, standing up to the Syndicate, and getting what you did. He steamrolls past the way you wince, his thumb on that metaphorical bruise and pressing, the Prosecutor’s dogged determination demanding answers, I have a friend in the office, he was convinced you’d be climbing the ranks.

Every word is a twist of the knife, couched in quiet concern, gentle admonition, a warm hug in a smoky tenor and you want to tell him everything, you want to break down in his arms and tell him every word, every buried piece of you he never learned, everything that’s led you to this.

You don’t.

You know better than to trust him too. No one’s going to take care of you but you so instead you shake your head and wave it off and Decided going into the private sector was the better option — one big win doesn’t really make up for the stress, you know.

Private sector. That’s what you’re calling the SHIELD Syndicate now? C’mon, Sunshine…

Look. It’s the Syndicate’s New York, when he made the offer it was… safer than saying no. It’s a cushy position anyway, and I didn’t want anyth—

He doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t believe you and you’re digging a hole trying to explain your way out of it so you just… shut up, shaking your head, It’s not important. I’m fine. I’m more curious about you — what year is it now, your fourth? What are you doing in New York?

The deflection works, but the look on his face is obvious — you’re not getting out of this so easily. He gives in for now, just for now, for you.

Almost fifth, gearing up for re-election. Had a meeting up here… about the organized crime situation for both states, and I remembered you were in the area.

Oh. You… it’s been a while since we talked, you remembered?

You expect me to forget you, Sunshine?

That stops you in your tracks, or whatever road your mind had been racing on, thoroughly not enjoying the defensive you’ve been on since you met with Steve, constantly under watch and waiting for yet one more shoe to fall on you.

That’s fear, sweetness.

Andy…?

You were the best campaign aide I had — I told you then too, I would have made you Chief of Staff if you’d let me.

It’s a good save. A clever save, and you want to believe it more than anything, want to believe it was all business and no pleasure because the alternative makes your nails bite into the table and want to turn tail before he can say another word and he… sees that panic flicker over your face so keenly it’s almost embarrassing.

You’re not used to this.

You’re not used to the warmth of his eyes when he searches your face for the answers you can’t give voice to. You’re not used to the way he reaches for your hand and rests it over your fingers, curling around your palm like he might actually keep you close and keep you safe and keep you free of the demons you made a part of yourself too.

Sunshine, why does his voice have to be so soft, why does it have to sound like molten honey on your senses, why does he have to say your name like it’s the very definition of the word hope, If you’re not safe…

No. No you’re not, tell him tell him the truth, tell him you’re atoning for the girl you could not protect tell him you aren’t worth it tell him this is your penance tell him you signed a death warrant tell him tell him tell him.

Andy, really. I’m fine. It’s a good job.

It’s a shit lie.

He drops it. Drops it just long enough for a waiter to finally come by, for his hand to leave yours while he talks through the wine menu. Drops it long enough for you to check your phone, realizing with horror that you must have silenced it absentmindedly sometime on your way here.

Ten missed calls.

All from Steve.

And one text, stamped from just five minutes ago.

[SMS] Either you pick up your phone or I pick you up, Counsel.

The next one comes right before your eyes, a picture of a map and a GPS pin. Your location.

You glance up at Andy, still talking to the waiter about the small plates options, feign a smile and Go ahead and choose, you have better taste than me, and return to staring at the picture and the three dots at the bottom of your screen, waiting to see his next message.

[SMS] Make your choice.

The haptic feedback of your keyboard feels like an electric shock with every letter, hurried fingers until you manage to tap out something that won’t immediately put the man in front of you in the crosshairs of the most dangerous organization in New York.

You can’t do that to him. You can’t.

[SMS] I’m at a dinner with a friend.

[SMS] And since I know there’s no emergencies pressing, I’d like my time, thank you.

You have the good sense to set it next to you this time, watching your screen light up with whatever furious response he sends next, glancing over only occasionally every time another one comes through. Don’t let him control you. Don’t let him think you’re at his beck and call.

You’re not.

You’re free, you’re free and you’re going to prove it.

Sunshine? What’s going on?

His voice cuts through the haze of panic like a knife and you swear you don’t mean to jump but you do and there’s no denying what he notices, eyes narrow and lips turned down in a sharp scowl, Sunshine…?

You are not that girl. You cannot be that girl, never again.

Steel. Steel yourself, flash him a smile, take a sip of the ice water left in front of you while you’d been checking your phone, reset yourself. Steady. Steady on.

Don’t let them know.

Nothing, nothing, just the boss — let him know I was busy.

Why is he texting you after hours? The Syndicate can’t be that busy.

He’s too watchful for your own good. Probably just making sure I’m staying out of trouble.

Are you?

Are you calling yourself trouble, Senator?

You like this. You can handle this, the trading of jokes, the crooked way he smiles. His eyes are a little more distant than you remember but you can still see them sparkle softly when he suppresses a laugh, lighting up properly when the joy reflects in them.

Briefly, you wonder when the last time he really laughed was.

By the time dinner is over, his hand, warm and steady, is back on yours as you talk — and for a moment you almost enjoy the way he runs his thumb over your knuckles absently, like he’s making careful appraisal of each one. Could use your skills for the re-election campaign, you know.

Really? You’ve got a gorgeous approval rating, what are you afraid of?

Not having my good luck charm on the staff.

Andy…

I’m dead serious, Sunshine, you ran that ship. You were what, a 2L? Rising 3? You had canvassing down to a science. We need that energy down on the Hill.

The curve of his fingers is a little tighter now, squeezing yours, like proof of his earnestness and oh, you want to keep believing him. You need to keep believing him.

There’s so much in New York I have to get done first. And besides, you know me. I want a life on the bench.

Justice Sunshine, and it sounds absurd when he uses your nickname and it sounds so real when he uses your nickname and in the warm smoke of his voice those contradictions can live together all at once.

That’s the one. Closest you’ll see me to Washington is when I’m appointed to the Supreme Court. It’s a dumb, arrogant, silly joke but it’s the same one you used to make with him over drinks, teasing him about his political goals and making him promise to “go easy on you” at your eventual Senate confirmation hearing.

It’s the one that makes him crack that too-beautiful crooked smile while he takes a sip of his drink — hiding the curve of his lips behind the rim of a heavy glass.

Well. If you ever decide to ditch—

Ever decide to ditch what?

The world moves in slow motion: hearing the low growl from behind you; Andy Barber looking up and rising to his feet, his hand slipping from yours with just the ghost of his comfortable touch to assure you; Steve Rogers coming into view as you turn, flanked by the not-entirely-unfamiliar faces of two of his enforcers — it looked like Wilson and Banner had been selected this evening — and the sudden pressure of knowing you’ve done something terribly, terribly wrong.

You stood me up, Counsel. Steve’s voice is a threat, a half-drawl as you stand up and face him, Andy right behind you, Something wrong with taking my phone calls?

She was busy, the sound of Andy’s voice is a balm to your soul and fuel to Steve’s fire, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth and resists the temptation to throw the first punch — you can see the fingers of his right hand curling into a fist, can’t you? The slow curve, the watching, wondering if you’ll make the right choice now that someone has chosen to try to lead you astray.

And who the fuck are you? If he can’t get you to respond, he’ll get something from the man talking for you, eyes trained on him like he’s debating whether his own frustration will make this interloper turn to nothingness and return you to his arms where you rightfullybelong.

Do you? Rightfully belong?

Senator Andy Barber. The title practically knocks the wind out of Steve’s sails and you can see it — he may be the Captain here, King of New York, ruler of his domain but he’s not stupid enough to openly attack a man with connections beyond the Syndicate’s web of influence. It’s a comfort and it’s not, all at once.

The room is still, vibrating with tension, the two men staring daggers at one another and you caught in the middle. I worked on Senator Barber’s campaign when he first ran for election, you manage out in some vain hope it might explain and mollify, only to be thoroughly disappointed — and judging by the way Banner winces, only to dig your grave further.

We’re talking about this later, Counsel. You’re coming home.

And what gives you the right to give her orders? You really are going to have to look back at Andy and beg him to not make this worse. You really are going to have to let him see your face, see that you’re afraid, sweetness. He’s not going to let you go easy and this should not terrify you as much as it does.

Senator Barber. It’s fine. Something must have come up,turning to face his burning eyes, until his face softens like he’s seeing you for the first time. And is he? Is he seeing how you just need him to let it go, let you go, drop the protectiveness and step back?

He has to, because he does, nodding before he grabs his coat and glances to the host station. If you say so, Sunshine. Take care of yourself. He doesn’t press, not knowing when he’s beat but knowing when you don’t want him to. When you’re not safe.

And Steve Rogers offers you his hand to walk you out.

And just what the hell did you think you were doing!?

Oh, and you control my time off the clock now too?

He dragged you back home.

No. Not to your apartment, that sanctuary away from all this you’d been allowed to keep as part of the “deal.” His home, the bedroom where you signed yourself away, the space he unraveled you and left you tangled in your new life.

He dragged you back home, in the grim silence of the backseat of his car and you waited. Waited for the inevitable explosion, the one prefaced by Wilson’s nervous looks and Banner’s cautious stare.

This explosion, where he rounds in on you, where livid is still too tame a term.

Meeting with a Senator? Ignoring my calls? I told you, you were mine tonight.

And I told you I had plans.

After I told you that you were mine, Counsel.

Okay. That’s true, even if you’re loathe to admit it.

Plans adjust. Andy wanted to—

Oh, Andy now? I thought it was Senator Barber? You’re really familiar with him, aren’t you, Counsel?

Just what the fuck are you implying?

Maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to.

He loves to do this. Wrap his big hand around your throat, remind you just how easily he can impose his power onto you, watch your protests die behind your eyes when you realize how useless words are in the face of his violence.

The furious look in your eyes is something to behold, the way you embed your nails into his wrist to try and drag him off you, all soft snarls and indignant huffs, You fucking asshole…

You’re mine, Counsel, and don’t you forget it. You gave yourself to me, remember?

Like I… like I had much of a choice, breathy, furious, and clawing at him.

Doesn’t matter. You’re mine, and clearly I need to make sure you know it…

Steve—!

Captain, sweetness, Captain, and don’t you forget it.

There’s a moment, when anger becomes transcendental, when it turns into something cold and calculating and prepared, when a plan forms behind his eyes and you watch as he looks down at you, so full of fury and fear all at once and you watch as he leans in so close and you feel his hand slide until he has you by the back of the neck, until his thumb is the thing pressing under your chin to keep your eyes on him, until the heel of his hand is the thing keeping you from shouting at him further. Such a stubborn little bitch…

You can almost see the words forming in his mind, the ones his mouth won’t say, I could be so good to you, but he doesn’t say them, sliding his lips over yours instead and it is… soft. A capturing of your mouth with his, not caring that you protest, only insistent on leaving you breathless and hazy-eyed from each tug of his lips on yours and there stokes the warmth of more than your rage, a different fire rising in your core, unbidden and unwelcome but yours to own and his to play with.

He can sense it, practically feel it, that mad serum racing through his veins and making his nostrils flare as he pulls back and watches you, lets the scent of your perfume fill his senses like a drug he can’t get enough of and, I should hate you too, for this, whispered low and hushed and you barely catch it, don’t you? Barely, but enough, enough to remember it was said just before he pulls you down with him into the depths of his own lust.

And into his lap, it seems, as he drags you down, sitting on the bed with you draped over his lap, an effortless shift in his skillful hands. You can protest, and you do, even daring to try to pull away with a kick of your legs and an indignant, What the hell do you think you’re doing?But you know it’s all futile, useless as he places one heavy hand on your back and lets the other slide over the smooth chiffon of your blouse, tracing a line along your spine with careful, practiced ease.

Would have preferred this with a little more… circumstance, sweetness, but you need to learn a lesson now and drastic times call for drastic measures.

You can turn your head slightly, to look at him, that wild-eyed fury so sweet on your face and you are still a wild creature he needs to tame but he is patient and he can do this for as long as it takes.

But you’re a sight like this, draped over his lap in a pencil skirt and blouse, so put together and proper and now so prone to him, helpless under the appraisal of his hands and the way he takes no time in hiking your skirt up around your waist. Captain! Your protest is met with a low chuckle, especially as he lets his palm curve around the round swell of your ass, before leaving a light swat on the soft flesh, to draw a yelp from your furious mouth.

If that’s all it takes to get you shouting, sweetness, you’re going to hate what comes next, smug and cruel, as you try to hold yourself up enough to look at him, met with his smirk and the simmering fury still bubbling in his eyes. To say you’re in danger still is an understatement, no doubt, and you know it.

I won’t make you count this time, but piss me off again, sweetness, and we’ll just see how much you can take, you hear me?

Oh you loathe him, really and truly loathe him, hissing with anger and embarrassment, so close to twisting in his arms and clawing at him but remembering his size and just how much worse it could get — but then there lies the undercurrent.

The one you loathe too, more than you hated him, that warmth. Seeping into your core, a low heat kindled by the sly softness of his lips on yours and the sure tenor of his voice, low and soothing even as he promised damnation. The one that — just like now — leaves you flushed and writhing while he purrs threats to you, massaging the soft skin and sliding the lace of your panties down to remove all barriers to the sex he owns so surely.

You open your mouth to argue with him but as you do, you feel his hand lift from your flesh and then the resounding SMACK of palm on skin, turning words into nothing but a sharp cry of pain, surprise, and lust. The heat rises just as your body tenses, reacting to the sudden attack on your delicate form, cheeks flushed. Even as your eyes well with tears your sex strives to betray you and — Oh do you like that, sweetness? — damn him for noticing.

Let me go, Captain, the threat is shaky, your voice wavering with something like want and panic all at once, and all it does is draw another laugh as he soothes the stinging mark left on your cheek, gentle as a lover and four times as cruel.

Do you know what I think, sweetness? And another raise of his palm, to strike you once more, listening to the way that cry of pain and surprise turns into a soft, involuntary moan the moment he begins to soothe the ache, I think you need this. Always so uptight, trying to be the head bitch in charge, aren’t you? Just looking for someone to take over, take control, remind you where your place is.

His fingers slip further, more interested in exploring the soft slickness of your sex, listening to your protests die in your throat with every press of his fingers into your plush folds. That’s why I’m here, to keep you in my lap, all fucked and soft, sweetness. Don’t you worry, I’m going to take care of you. Even if I have to teach you just like this.

You should hate the way he talks, hates how he finds your center with effortless ease, like he’s known your body for years. Holding you down in his lap still as he draws mewling moans from you with every curl of his fingers, finding the proof of his accusations in the slick need coating your thighs, soaking his fingers, You’re making such a mess of me, sweetness. Are you going to be good?

Hiss at him. Snarl at him, buck your hips and twist in his arms, push him away. Do something more than what you are now, with red-rimmed eyes and tears staining your face, do more than listen to him talk, feel his cock pressing against you as you lay in his lap, I’m going to ask it one more time, sweetness. Are. You. Going. To. Be. Good?

He punctuates each word of his question with a harsh smackagainst your ass, leaving little time for you to do more than cry out, until the last spank draws something like a moan from your perfect lips and therein lies your surrender for tonight, that soft mewl of pleasure born of pain and he soothes you again with soft shushes and gentle touches, back to inspecting the renewed slickness of your cunt, back to enjoying that plump tightness wrapped around his fingers and back to trying to control the shift of his own hips and you can feel him, hard against you, needing you as much as he is compelling your body to need him.

Captain… a low, desperate sort of mewl, the squirm of your body less to escape and more to enticeand he notices. Notices the way your fingers try to cling to him, notices how you look so very sweet when you’re so very desperate and in some way this is your own game of control, a push and pull and the curl of his fingers is suddenly so much angrier, driving you to the precipice of the fall and you are tumbling, tumbling down into a darkness of want you may never recover from.

Say it again. Tell me you need me, sweetness, tell me you need me and I’ll give you everything, and there’s an edge to the way he says everything, like he might meanit, like he might give you the world if you just gave in and you hate him, sweetness, you hate him but you need the things you hate once in a while and you can’t keep bearing his fury on your body and so you sob out your surrender and whine—

I need you, Captain, please…

And that is enough.

Let him believe you.

#steve rogers x reader #andy barber x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers x reader #dark!fic #steve rogers smut #andy barber smut #this fic is murdering my ass

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realcube · 3 years

Text

ONCE YOU’RE GONE

rq ♥ hello!! can i please request miya twins, sakusa, suna, akaashi x fem!reader an angst one. like they got into a heated argument each other. reader just had enough, maybe take a stroll and got into a deadly accident that cost her life/ memory loss or something. and the hq char regrets it

tw ♥ angst, hurt/comfort, breakups, disappearances, very vague implications of kidnapping, memory loss & injury

a/n ♥ sorry i couldn’t think of anything for suna </3

ATSUMU MIYA

♡ he’s never really been an overly religious guy

♡ yet everyday, he finds himself praying that you’ll come back

♡ and before now, he considered himself a rather patient person, but every second you were gone was filled with anguish

♡ mostly because he knew it was all his fault

♡ nobody blamed it on him though, which only made him feel more guilty

♡ it was late, so he decided to walk you home from his house. hardly with your safety in mind though, just because he wanted to spend more time with you

♡ that was his first mistake

♡ his second was getting so defensive over his volleyball team

♡ he was talking about their recent loss to karasuno high, and how they were all devastated since they had been training for ages

♡ yet instead of comforting him, you simply replied, “maybe you should do things besides volleyball, if you’re getting so worked up about it.”

♡ but all he heard was you being condescending (though that genuinely wasn’t your intention) and telling him to give up something he is passionate about because of one little defeat

♡ you tried to explain that you honestly meant no harm by your statement but atsumu argued that the damage had already been done, hence your apology meant nothing to him

♡ realising that atsumu was just being pissy and taking his frustration at the game out on you, you distanced yourself; walking a few paces in front of him and plugging in your earbuds to tune him out

♡ after marching behind you for a few more yards, atsumu eventually decided that he was finished

♡ in one swift motion, he turned on his heels and stomped back his house, leaving you to walk the rest of the distance yourself; that was his third mistake

♡ however, after walking for about half a mile, he got a newsfeed notification on his phone titled, ‘four people reported missing in hyōgo prefecture, in the last week.’

♡ it only took one headline for all atsumu’s previous emotions to be swept away and replaced with one that left him motionless; guilt

♡ he continued walking back to his home, reasoning that you clearing didn’t want him near you — anyone could tell by the way you walked in front of him and ignored him— so he must’ve made the right choice to leave you, since it’s what you wanted, after all

♡ and it’s not like y’all broke up or anything, he still loves you and hopes you are safe and to prove that, he apologised and texted you first

♡ ‘hey, i’m so sorry i was i bit of a jerk earlier.’

♡ followed by ‘text me once you’re home.’

♡ no response, simply read at 21:45

♡ that was a week ago, yet he still wholehearted believed that you were going to come back

♡ though, deep down he knew he was just feeding himself the same line over and over again, just so that he wouldn’t feel guilty, and so that the sight of a volleyball stopped making him feel so sick and distressed

OSAMU MIYA

♡ he’s never felt such a sea of emotions at once before

♡ on one hand, he was just happy to see you alive and well; isn’t that all a lover should want?

♡ however, he didn’t have the honour of calling himself your lover anymore

♡ you didn’t remember anything from before the crash, which initially brought him a small tinge of relief, since you wouldn’t blame him for what happened

♡ however, you didn’t remember him at all

♡ so when he knelt by your bed and started apologising profusely, all you did which raise a brow and turn to the nurse, quietly — yet not discreetly — asking who the guy by your bed was

♡ he felt his hear tear apart at such a simple inquiry

♡ however, instead of explaining himself, he got up and left, “nobody.”

♡ wanting to get it all off of his chest, he told atsumu about what happened, as if he didn’t know that his brother had the biggest crush on you during your whole relationship with osamu

♡ and of course, upon hearing the news, atsumu ‘snuck out’ later to go visit you in hospital and presumably try to win your heart

♡ though, there was nothing ‘sneaky’ about the way he loudly fumbled around with the car keys, or the way he tended to slam the door behind him — atsumu knew exactly what his brother was trying to do and although it pained him to even think of losing you, he let his brother pursue you anyway

♡ he tried to protect you once and it resulted in you losing your memory, so god knows what would happen if he tried again

♡ plus, you were no longer his to protect, or at least that is what he tried to convince himself

♡ after months of daily visits from atsumu —and none from osamu — you were somewhat starting to gain your memory back

♡ atsumu just seemed so.. familiar, and that was the single best feeling when you are so isolated

♡ though, there was something off about him that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on, but he reassured you that it was because ‘seeing you hurt changed him as a man’ so of course he’s different from the way you ‘remember’ him

♡ years passed, and you continued dating atsumu in blissful ignorance of the events that happened before the accident

♡ you feel deeper in love with the atsumu you thought you knew and were forced away from osamu (who chose to remain single, he claimed it was to focus on his studies but he truly couldn’t find a second soulmate)

♡ it was only at your own wedding day were you finally able to see osamu once more, though you didn’t really interact with him much..

♡ until he objected during your vows, then, it was pretty hard to ignore him, especially since he appeared sober yet was claiming that you are his one true love, and he regrets ever leaving you

♡ needless to say, the rest of the wedding definitely did not go as planned

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

♡ he loved you; and he wished he had showed it more, now that it’s too late

♡ “sakusa,” you cooed, resting your head on his shoulder and offering him a plate of apple slices you cut yourself, while browsing the shows on TV, “what shall we watch tonight?” you inquired, but mostly to yourself since dating sakusa nowadays was similar to dating a literal rock

♡ no response, as per usual

♡ well, on the bright-side, that just meant you’d get to watch whatever you wanted, unless sakusa spoke up, which he most likely would not

♡ scanning through all your options, you decided to select some teen romance, coming-of-age movie that you knew sakusa would most definitely not enjoy, hence forcing him to say thing

♡ however, instead of him reacting in accordance to your plan, he simply got up and left without another word

♡ something about the sight of him with his back turned to you, headed out of your house and back home with even a goodbye cleared your fogged mind and left one fact undoubtedly clear; you didn’t want to be with him anymore

♡ and although you didn’t want to make assumptions, you surmised that he felt the same way; it was almost a certainty considering how distant he acted

♡ so of course you cut it off that same night; yet when you proposed the idea of breaking up, sakusa became surprisingly defensive

♡ it was as if all of a sudden he realised how shitty he had been acting this whole time, and how his actions had effected you

♡ you both yelled over the phone for hours, though it was hardly an ‘argument’, more like sakusa apologising profusely and making — what you believed to be — false promises, while you explained that you had just had enough

♡ it ended with him almost screaming ‘i love you’, but you hung up on him too soon

♡ he would never admit it, but he cried himself to sleep that night

♡ there was a part of him saying that he was just being overdramatic and you were nothing more than another lover that will enter and exit his life with the wind, but four years later, he still found himself getting butterflies upon catching a glimpse of you in the stands at one of games

♡ despite the fact you were cheering for opposite team

KEIJI AKAASHI

♡ you two were the perfect couple

♡ study dates, sliding notes to each other during class, midnight strolls, endless support, dancing in the rain; it was like you were both living in your very own slice-of-life romance movie

♡ however, as they say, all good things must come to an end

♡ but for akaashi, that ending came too quickly

♡ “you can do it, i know you can!” that must’ve been the tenth time you’ve said that today, it was like your own inspirational mantra, yet akaashi didn’t seem to be endeared by it

♡ “no, (y/n).” he repeated with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he began to guide you to the door, “it’s a silly dream. i probably shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

♡ “it’s not silly!” you argued, throwing on your jacket as he made it increasingly clear that he didn’t want to continue this conversation, “it’s your dream! you can’t just keep complaining about school if you aren’t even going to try to pursue your passion.”

♡ akaashi silently shook his head, “go.” it was harsh, but he could only deal with speaking about his work life for so long

♡ “you go.” you snapped, though knowing it wasn’t exactly the comeback of the century, but it summarised your feelings well enough, “i’ve honestly had enough of you. i hope--”

♡ you cut yourself off at that; storming off before saying something you might regret

♡ though furious, you really didn’t want things to end with him, you just hoped that maybe one day you’ll be able to have a civil conversation with him about what he wants to do in life

♡ because he hides it well, but the more you got to know him, the more you noticed that he truly wasn’t happy in his studies, and you just wished he would do something about it or at the very least, let you help

♡ and he knew this too; he knew it all too well yet still couldn’t bring himself to better his life, even once you were gone

♡ you were critically injured after the accident, and during your time in the hospital, you let akaashi see you once

♡ one visit was his chance to redeem himself, to apologise and help you both align your futures together

♡ but all he could do was sit with you in radio silence

♡ thirty minutes passed and his mind was running on overdrive, yet he couldn’t think of anything to utter after ‘hello.’

♡ so he left

♡ no apology, no redemption, to attempt, nothing.

♡ all he could say was that he left with a heavy heart, a heart filled with hope that one day he could return to you despite all the wrong he has done; though that seemed more unrealistic than his dream of playing profession volleyball

♡ he had truly lost his soulmate

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milenadaniels · 3 years

Text

Actually, Truly, 14k - Buck/Eddie, Helena POV, post-s4 (AO3)

Isabel calls to tell them Eddie's been shot on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. When they land, they learn Eddie's already home recovering and has been for two weeks.

----

Or, Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns.

Isabel calls on a Thursday afternoon and by lunch on Friday Helena and Ramon are landing at LAX. Their son’s been shot, again, in the line of duty. But this time, instead of being thousands of miles away and out of reach, he’s just a short plane ride away.

Isabel insists they come to her house before going to the hospital but she doesn’t blame COVID protocols for keeping them away from the hospital, so they spend the car ride over imagining the worst.

A complication with surgery.

Permanent damage.

A coma.

The news they receive is that Eddie’s fine, and he’s been home and recuperating for two weeks already.

Helena retreats to the living room while Ramon and his mother fight in the kitchen. They’re yelling in Spanish and for once she wishes she’d never learned.

“Escúchame, Ramon,” Isabel tries to interrupt. Listen to me.

The yelling continues because Ramon doesn’t listen. It’s not his strong suit. Nor is it Helena’s.

Helena paces the length of the living room and holds her phone in her hands, thumb over Eddie’s name in FaceTime, not pressing down.

Eddie’s been home for two weeks.

Isabel hadn’t told them for two weeks.

But Eddie hadn’t either.

They hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years, and he hadn’t called them since their last fight over a month ago.

Still, Eddie was shot in the streets by a sniper and he didn’t call them.

Mom, listen...

The last time they spoke, it was a phone call, not a video chat, maybe because at that point just the sight of each others’ faces was enough to set them all off. In that phone call, Eddie spoke of a friend whose family was somehow worse off than their own, but who, miraculously, were finally making the effort to fix the broken ties between them in therapy.

“Mom, listen… I spent a long time being angry with Shannon instead of trying to reach out to her and now Christopher is never going to have her in his life again. I don’t want that with you,” Eddie said, his voice brusque but calm, measured. “I don’t want to grin and bear it when you call or when we visit. I want to be glad to pick up the phone, I want to be excited to see you all at Christmas, I want you to be part of our lives. But I can’t do that without you meeting me halfway.” He was resolute, but he was pleading too. “I don’t want to spend the next ten years of our lives like this.”

But the idea of therapy was anathema to the Diaz family and it took only Ramon’s dismissive scoff to reinforce her own distaste of the idea. They called Eddie back to say they had no intention of paying a stranger to tell them everything was their fault and he was blameless.

They didn’t get another call after that.

“— my son!” Ramon yells at Isabel in the kitchen.

“Because, mijo, when you come here, you don’t see your son! You don’t see him living here, growing, Christopher thriving! You don’t see how when you come up here you bring sadness and misery when you should bring joy and comfort.” The words are too close to what Eddie said for them not to have spoken about it together. “By the time I knew he was hurt, he was already out of surgery and doing well. If he wasn’t, I would have called immediately.”

“Oh bueno, so you’ll tell me my son is dying but not that he’s okay?”

“Ramon! Escúchame.” It’s not often that Helena gets to bear witness to the steel in Isabel’s voice, the one she passed down to both her kids. It’s in fine form today. “He was doing well, and had all the help he needed. As soon as things stabilized, I called you. Keep acting like a fool and see if I call you at all next time.”

“If you call? Are you —”

Mom, listen…

“Ramon!” Helena snaps, surprising them all.

“Ramon,” she repeats, more calmly this time. “Listen to her.”

The shock on Isabel’s face almost makes her smile, but her heart is too heavy to commit to it.

“Helena, two weeks she —”

“Our son was shot, and he didn’t tell us.” Helena says, her voice trembling. “Our son was shot, he could have died, and the last thing we would have told him is we weren’t willing to fight for him and Christopher. Weren’t willing to — what? — put our egos aside? Our pride? For one fucking minute to listen to him. To listen to what he needed.”

Ramon’s eyes widen and he hangs his head with a sigh.

Helena faces Isabel, her phone tucked in her palm against her stomach.

“What can we do? We’re listening.”

——————-

Ramon walks it off and Helena helps Isabel in the kitchen in exchange for a promise they’ll go over to Eddie’s for supper. She’s been making care packages for Eddie and Christopher since the shooting, and she’s working on a pasta sauce while Helena starts on her famous banana brown sugar bread — Eddie’s favourite.

“How is he, really?” she asks once her dish is tucked into the oven.

“As well as can be expected,” Isabel replies, throwing spices into the pot with an ease Helena never grew into. “He was tired for the first few days, but now it’s like a broken arm. Uncomfortable but not so painful.”

“How long is it supposed to take to heal?”

Isabel casts a suspicious eye her way as if she can anticipate the date of Helena’s return flight adjusting already, but answers, “they say 6 to 8 weeks. It’s for the bone to heal, mostly, in his back. The rest should be sooner.”

Helena broke her wrist years ago, when the kids were nearly teenagers, and it was three months of hell trying to manage a household one handed while Ramon spent most of that time travelling across Texas.

Who’s helping him? Is Carla back in the picture? Is she working overtime? How can he afford that on sick leave? Is Pepa or one of the cousins going over? Is his girlfriend there? Who’s helping with Christopher? How is he managing?

The questions — all genuine and well-meaning, all a shade too accusatory — are on her tongue, pressed to the back of her teeth to keep from escaping. She’s entitled to answers, even if she doesn’t like them. She knows she has the right to at least know how her son is caring for himself and her grandson while he’s injured. If he’d told them when it happened Helena could have been here in a heartbeat to help, but no, Eddie’s just as stubborn as they are, just as prideful. He’d rather suffer alone than accept their help. Fine. But she’s still his mother, and Christopher’s grandmother. She raised them both. She has a right to—

Mom, listen…

Helena takes a deep breath in, anchors herself in the mixed scents of the rich sauce and the sweet bread cooking, and breathes out. Isabel sends her another look but says nothing.

————-

Helena cries when she sees Eddie, and cries a bit harder when she sees the apprehension in his eyes. Her baby boy looks a bit pale, but he’s standing on his own two feet and answering the door himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, wrapping him gently into her arms, mindful not to press into the sling or his back.

“Hi, mom,” he says quietly, like he’s trying to gentle the stiffness in his voice.

She releases him, but not before pressing three kisses into his temple, always three. One for each of her kids.

Ramon steps into the space she leaves when she continues into the house and from the corner of her eye, she sees him cup the back of Eddie’s head and take a good look at him. For Ramon, it’s the equivalent of collapsing to the floor in tears.

Helena quickly toes off her boots and makes room at the entrance for the others behind her, which also puts her first in line to catch a sight that nearly knocks her down.

“Who is this young man I see?” she cries, throwing her hands wide to gesture at her grandson. “Last I saw you, you were just a little tyke. Now look at you, you must have grown three feet!”

Christopher giggles and Helena smiles in return as she folds him into her arms, but it’s forced. She’s not lying — he’s grown so much more than she expected. She hasn’t seen him in person since Eddie’s graduation and while video chats are priceless, they didn’t capture this growth spurt.

She can’t believe she let this happen. That she went from spending most of everyday with this little boy and now she’s missed out on two years of his life. Can’t believe Eddie kept him fro—

Mom, listen...

Supper goes well enough. Eddie never truly shakes loose the tension in his shoulders; he trades many looks with Isabel, seemingly spooked by his parents’ behaviour. He talks a lot more than he usually does, probably out of nervousness. But overall, they let Christopher take the reigns; they’re all more comfortable with that. It’s been too long since they’ve last spoken and Christopher is full of stories about his school and his friends.

“Buck says we can go to the Griffin soon. It was closed because of COVID. But before, I went with my class and they made a comet right in front of us!”

Buck. It’s the third time his name has been dropped at the table since they sat down.

She first met him, briefly, at Eddie’s graduation, but didn’t really register him as someone in her son’s life until Eddie and his crew stopped off in El Paso for dinner on their way home from fighting Texas wildfires. Buck had been cropping up in Christopher’s and Eddie’s stories for months by then and she was curious to properly meet him in person. He had seemed...young, she remembers.

“The Griffith Observatory,” Eddie corrects fondly. With Christopher, at least, it’s impossible for him not to soften.

Eddie’s only eaten half the pasta on his plate but Isabel seems satisfied. Helena bites down on the impulse to encourage him to eat more. To remind him he needs his strength to heal quickly for his little boy. She does lift the basket of garlic bread in his direction, because she can’t help herself. He eyes the basket warily as though he expects her to do more, but when she doesn’t, he shakes his head with a small smile of thanks.

“Yeah,” Christopher agrees, “it was cool but we didn’t get to stay long enough to see everything. And if we go later, Buck says we can see real meteors in the sky.”

Fourth mention.

“Christopher is on an astronomy kick,” Eddie adds redundantly.

“Wait, I gotta show you —” Christopher is sliding out of his seat before anyone can stop him and racing down the hall to his bedroom.

“Oh, honey —” Helena grips the arms of her chair out of reflex to jump up and help him — he doesn’t have his crutches, he’s only using the wall for support and he’s wearing socks — but Eddie looks over when her chair creaks.

He can’t really expect her to just sit here while Christopher—

Mom, listen…

They can hear Christopher make it to his bedroom without injury, so Helena slowly settles back in her chair and Ramon clears his throat. “He seems...okay. More okay than I would have expected.”

Eddie keeps his eyes on his father for a beat too long, assessing the comment for any hidden messages.

“He’s a resilient kid. Buck stayed here with him while I was in the hospital, so his routine wouldn’t get messed up. I think that helped a lot.”

Fifth ment— wait.

“Buck stayed with him?” The words — the tone — are out of her mouth before Helena can stop them.

On the shortlist of people she expected to hear stayed with her grandson to watch him and care for him, alone, while his father was in the hospital — Isabel, Pepa, Carla, or even Ana — Buck’s isn’t a name she expected to hear. A coworker — an unrelated man with no children of his own, over Christopher’s family? Over Christopher’s own aide? Over a schoolteacher?

Eddie’s jaw squares up and he sits up in his chair. Like light gray rain clouds suddenly turning dark, weighty with an incoming storm, a heavy tension builds in the air between them.

“Look!” Christopher exclaims as he rounds the corner, nearly throwing a thin, blue hardcover book on the table. Eddie catches it before it can slam into Christopher’s leftover pasta and sets it down on the table for him. “It shows all the things we can see in the sky over the whole year!”

Christopher climbs back into his chair and opens the book up to a random page, describing everything he seems to have nearly memorized already. By the time he reaches the upcoming meteor shower, the tension at the table has dissipated enough for Helena to excuse herself to the bathroom and not have it come off like a passive aggressive storm-off.

She washes her hands with soap pumped out of a fish-shaped dispenser that wasn’t here the last time she visited and trains her eyes on the basket of gauze, scissors and tape tucked away on the shelf above the toilet. That wasn’t there last time either.

Her baby boy was shot by a sniper. In LA.

A bullet tore through the body she created and almost took her son from her forever.

Mom, listen...

But only after she’d almost pushed him so far away he might never come back.

The tears well up again and she sniffs through them, blinking up at the ceiling until she’s back under control.

As she pivots to turn the light off, she spies a purple toothbrush resting on the ledge just above the sink. The other two toothbrushes are electric — one adult-, one child-sized — and stand on the counter.

—————-

Helena and Ramon meet the infamous Ana by accident.

When they leave Eddie’s house on Friday, Helena sends a text message to say what she couldn’t manage to say to his face — that they’re here for him, in whatever capacity he needs, that they’ll take their cues from him, even if that means giving him some space.

To that, she receives a, Thank you.

When she asks for the contact information of the therapist he had scoped out for them, she gets a phone call.

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” her son says, “but are you just doing this because I got shot?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” she laughs mirthlessly. “I’m sorry to say it took our baby boy nearly dying to get our heads out of our ass.”

Eddie huffs a laugh on his end. “Well, I’ll take that silver lining.”

After that, Eddie invites them to a restaurant for brunch on Sunday, but when they reach his doorstep, they find it already occupied by a woman who’s just rung the doorbell, holding a casserole dish in her hands.

When the door opens, Eddie takes in the three of them, his eyes wide and apprehensive.

“Ana, I wasn’t expecting you,” he says, his eyes darting over her shoulder to his parents. He’s smiling, though there’s a clear strain in the corners of his eyes and mouth. They’ve been critical about Shannon for so long — and with good reason, nothing will change Helena’s mind on that — no doubt he’s expecting them to hate this new woman on sight.

“You’re Ana!” Helena exclaims with a wide smile, imbuing her voice with as much welcome as she’s capable. “Hi! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

When Eddie releases the breath he was holding, she knows she was on the mark. Ramon follows her lead and invites Ana to brunch with them on the spot and won’t hear her protests about intruding.

Eddie, of course, doesn’t protest at all but invites them in so Ana can store the casserole in the fridge — it takes both Ana and Helena’s organizational skills to find a spot for it among Isabel’s and Eddie’s tupperwares already invading all available space — and he can finish getting ready. He was already dressed in a nice polo and jeans but when he comes back from his bedroom it’s in a smart button-down he must have struggled with out of sheer stubbornness. Both his parents and his girlfriend are in the house and still he didn’t ask for help.

Eddie and Christopher decide to hop into Ana’s car and Helena asks loudly for directions to keep Ramon from insisting they should all ride together.

“So how long have you kids been seeing each other now?” Ramon asks when they’ve been seated at the restaurant.

“Nearly 7 months now, I think, isn’t it?” Ana replies, looking at Eddie with a dazzling smile — she truly is gorgeous. Eddie was still talking to them when he started dating her so they know she’s a schoolteacher turned vice principal but to meet her in person blows all their other expectations out of the water. She’s lively and sweet, patient and understanding, Latina — a big plus in Ramon’s books ironically. Eddie picked well this time.

Eddie hesitates a moment and nods. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

Every now and again, he squirms in his chair, like he can’t quite settle in and Helena wonders when his last painkiller was taken. But when he catches her face, she smoothes her worry out into a cheeky smile that says I like this one. He smiles back and there’s nothing she can pinpoint exactly but something about it makes her uneasy.

Eddie’s too quiet as they wait for their food, his face pinched, and just when Helena’s about to break, Ana does her the favour of asking gently, “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to take anything for your arm?”

But Eddie shrugs off her concern. “No, thank you. Next one isn’t until noon.” He taps his phone twice and she smiles.

“Sorry, I forgot. He’s got them all on timers with a special ringtone. He’s so organized,” she tells Helena and Ramon with a sunny smile, rubbing her hand down his good arm. “I have one multivitamin and I forget to take it half the time.”

“Buck set it up,” Eddie defers, and Helena schools her face not to react; even at brunch Buck is with them in spirit.

Ramon either takes no issue with the mention or doesn’t register it. He takes the opportunity to share how his new pharmacy pre-packages his heart and arthritis medications into AM and PM slots and Ana listens attentively. Eddie’s fingertip taps absently against the phone case until their food arrives.

Christopher ordered a waffle, and with Eddie indisposed, Helena is already moving to help him when Ana beats her to the punch again. Helena tucks a smile away as Ana leans over and starts cutting the waffle up into smaller pieces.

“He can do that,” Eddie says when he notices Christopher sitting back in his chair, realizing only when Ana startles that his tone is sharp. His voice is softer when he follows up with, “Right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, picking up his own cutlery with enthusiasm despite his hands being nearly too small for them.

Eddie throws an apologetic grin Ana’s way and brunch continues peacefully, though the stiff line of Eddie’s shoulder never does quite soften.

Mom, listen…

————-

Their first therapy session takes place in Isabel’s kitchen at Eddie’s request. Isabel thinks it’s so he has the option of leaving when he needs to (in other words, when he gets fed up and runs) but Helena hasn’t missed how Eddie has been careful to keep them away from his home since the first day they saw him.

They’ve seen Eddie and Chris numerous times in the week and change they’ve been in LA — more than they’ve seen them since they left El Paso — but always outside of the house. Sometimes they pick Chris up from school, sometimes Eddie and Chris come to Isabel’s for supper, sometimes they go out to restaurants or other outings, but they haven’t been invited back to his home again. She wanted to believe it was because he was hiding the news that Ana had moved in but that’s been shot out of the water both by her ringing the doorbell and an errant comment at the end of brunch about how she hadn’t seen him since the welcome home party.

So it’s out of pettiness, then. Stubbornness. Out of pig-headed inability to accept that he needs help and willingness to believe that they’re making an effort to meet him on his own terms.

She tries not to let it rankle her, tries to find some of that resolute commitment to letting things be and not push. But the next thing she knows, she’s yelling about it to a stranger at Isabel’s island counter.

To be fair, the session with Dr. Jamieson wasn’t going great to begin with. It’s awkward as hell, the three of them balancing on stools, squished in next to each other to try to fit into the screen, but also trying to keep the laptop close enough to still hear her and not have to shout. It’s happening while Chris is at school so they don’t have to worry about keeping him distracted but they can’t exactly ask Isabel to go wait in the LA sun for an hour so she doesn’t overhear, so it’s basically a given that she’s the fourth person on this virtual couch from the next room over.

And beyond that, Helena has kept her mouth shut for over a week which is frankly more time than anyone would have bet on, including herself, and given the opportunity to express herself freely...well…

“You want space? We’ve given you nothing but space since we got here. How much more can we give you, Eddie? You’re hundreds of miles away from us already. Forgive us for feeling the need to check in on our only son who almost died last week,” she yells, her hand nearly colliding with her coffee mug as she gestures.

“Last week?” Ramon echoes with a bark of dark laughter.

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Helena picks up. “I’m sorry! Not a week ago! Nearly a month ago! Because apparently we don’t warrant even a text when our only son almost dies, but that’s not enough space?”

Eddie rakes his fingers aggressively through his hair, his lips pursed.

“We have to move to Mexico,” Ramon continues blithely. “Is that enough space? No, better yet! Sweden! Your family still lives out there, no? We can live on their farm. Completely different timezone, we won’t even be reachable.”

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, a sour grin blooming on his face, “that’s what I want. I ask you to give me some breathing room — to respect me, my life — and you translate that into living in a fucking commune in Sweden. And you wonder why we’re in therapy. I can’t talk to you, you don’t listen!”

Mom, lis—

“Listen to what, Eddie?” Helena yells, getting out of her seat to pace. “Listen to the months of silence you’ve sent our way? Because we either get on board and blindly cheer on every mess you get yourself into or we don’t get to know you anymore? Don’t get to know our grandson?”

“I never kept him from you — you have our number, the phone didn’t ring. That’s not on me.”

“Because you would have picked up?” Ramon exclaims, pushing away from the island to better look back at their son. “Easy to claim when it’s after the fact in front of the doctor.”

“So now I’m a liar! You raised a liar?”

“I think we’ve gotten off-track,” Dr. Jamieson’s tinny voice interjects from the laptop.

In the bottom right hand corner of the screen, only Eddie remains in the frame.

————

Firehouse 118 was a lively crowd at Eddie’s graduation but it’s nothing compared to the party thrown at the Grant-Nash house in honour of a new probationary firefighter.

Dr. Jamieson pointed out the self-fulfilling prophecy that Eddie protecting himself from criticism and pressure by withholding details about his life in LA was leading to his parents’ growing insecurity over not knowing anything about their son and feeling the need to intervene more and more.

The solution? Let them in on his life and trust that they could hold themselves in check.

For that, even Ramon was in agreement that maybe therapy wasn’t a load of shit after all.

So here they find themselves welcomed into this beautiful and loud home nearly three weeks into their stay in LA. They were allowed to pick Eddie and Chris up so they arrive together but Christopher peels off immediately to find kids his own age.

It’s impossible not to feel the warmth of family radiating from every inch of the home so when Eddie’s shoulders seem to loosen a little as they walk in, Helena can’t find it in herself to begrudge him.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” a woman around Helena’s age drawls, crowding into Eddie’s space for a delicate hug he doesn’t hesitate to return. “Though I could have done without seeing another one of these for a few hundred more years,” she says, gesturing to the sling. “How much longer?”

“Another month if everything checks out,” Eddie says, releasing a sigh.

“It better,” she warns with a twinkle in her eye that says if she learns he’s been aggravating his injury there will be hell to pay.

The woman, they find out, is Athena Grant-Nash, wife of the 118’s captain and consummate host. While Eddie splits off “for a minute”, she leads them to the main area for drinks and introductions before leaving them to mingle. Captain Nash — Bobby — meets them with appetizers and introduces them to the Lees, the de-facto parental figures of the young man who just joined the team.

From the spot she claims at the edge of the dining room, Helena keeps an eye trained on Eddie outside. She feels an itch under her skin knowing it’s been nearly twenty minutes and Eddie hasn’t checked on Christopher, but she knows she shouldn’t go herself. Eddie can do everything on his own, right? He can look after his own kid at a party.

She can, however, go to the washroom and take a peek at what Christopher’s up to while she’s wandering, and that’s exactly what she intends to do.

But for now, she watches as Eddie criss-crosses through the crowds of the patio, prompting a localized burst of cheers at each stop as he reunites himself with teammates he hasn’t seen since the shooting. She recognizes the woman who was on the trip to Texas but the rest conjure only the vaguest memories of Eddie’s graduation and the occasional picture on Instagram — before he stopped posting that is. Just one more way they’ve been iced out.

But he seems happy, almost carefree in a way she realizes she hasn’t seen with her own eyes in...longer than this trip, actually.

Probably years, if she’s honest.

And it occurs to her, slowly, creepingly, that her son is outside, smiling freely and easily, surrounded by people he’s made his new family, while Helena stands inside watching his life through a glass window in a stranger’s house.

Mom, listen…

She swallows past the lump in her throat and sighs. Ramon’s arm comes around her waist and without looking at him, she knows he’s had a similar revelation.

Their next therapy session is in a few days, and they’re not going to fuck it up again.

There’s a late arrival to the party, one of the only people in Eddie’s life she can recognize — Buck. He’s as tall as she remembered but he looks a shade less young now maybe. He greets everyone with a hug or kiss on the cheek as he moves through the party, and bestows a cheer and an enthusiastic hug on Albert, the guest of honour.

When he moves on to the patio and approaches Eddie’s circle, however, the cheerful, long-awaited reunion of best friends she expects doesn’t happen. They catch each other’s eyes for a few beats and share a welcoming smile, then the conversation resumes as if nothing of consequence has happened. Buck doesn’t even linger long, heading back into the house after a few minutes.

When the cake starts being doled out, Eddie returns to meet them at the table and accepts the plate Helena offers him. Helena is scouting the yard for a chair he can sit on to eat when Buck reappears.

“He couldn’t be pulled away?” Eddie asks in surprise.

“Nope,” Buck replies with a grin before turning to them. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Diaz. Good to see you again!” Before they can return more than a smile, Buck continues, “he’s cheating at Unicorn Temple with Harry. Not even cake can pull him away.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smiles. “My son is not a cheater.” To them, he says, “Buck thinks that whenever he’s losing at a video game, it’s because his opponent is cheating.”

“Not always! Just when they are,” he replies with exaggerated emphasis before scooping a piece of cake onto a plate. “I’m gonna go hide this in the fridge for him for later before it’s all gone.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles down at his plate, and the questions are building up behind Helena’s teeth again.

Christopher’s been playing video games all this time? Is it an age-appropriate game? Why is Buck checking on your son? Why is Buck saving him cake when nobody asked him to? Why—

But Eddie looks up with an uncertain expression and says, “there’s a table out there if you guys want to join me.”

So Helena stows her questions and says, “that’d be great.”

They eat the overly-sweet cake in peaceful silence until Ramon casts an eye around and says, “you must be glad about the new firefighter. You won’t be the baby on the team anymore.”

Eddie snorts. “I’m 33 and my kid is nearly a teenager — and that’s totally not freaking me out at all,” he adds wryly. “Besides, I was never the baby of the team. Buck is younger than me and forever a kid at heart so I was never in any danger of it.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me that Christopher’s growing up,” Helena only half-jokes. “I can still barely believe he’s old enough to hold his own head up.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and Helena banks it as a win.

“Do any of your coworkers have teenagers?” Ramon asks. “Might have some words of wisdom to share.” Since you won’t ask us, is unspoken and politely ignored by all.

“Athena’s daughter May is just leaving the teen years now, but after her, Christopher’s the oldest. Harry, Athena’s son is 9 and Denny, Hen and Karen’s son just turned 8. It’s great for play dates but not for getting advice on what’s coming up unfortunately.”

“Karen,” Ramon echoes.

Eddie’s fork pauses on its way to scoop some excess icing off his cake and his back straightens.

“Hen’s wife,” he says curtly, daring.

Helena wants to roll her eyes at the posturing. It’s 2021, who cares who anybody loves. She knows Ramon doesn’t, not really, not anymore. It’s a 50-year-long reflex to make a comment, one they’ve been working, if only to have some semblance of a civil conversation with Sophia while she works through a degree in women and gender studies.

But she knows that excuse isn’t going to fly with Eddie.

It hasn’t flown since Eddie was 20 years old and realizing he’d lost a good friend to his father’s caustic words. And Helena can’t ever go back and examine the hurt in Eddie’s expression with fresh eyes. Shemanages to forget about it most of the time until something happens to dig it out of the cold, hard ground and shove it in her arms.

Mom, listen...

But she’s come to LA because she wants to be in her son’s life, in her grandson’s life and she can’t be a coward now.

“They’re a gorgeous couple,” she says, almost too loudly in her enthusiasm. “Are they thinking of having more kids?”

Eddie turns his assessing eyes to her and is mollified by her effort. “Yeah, they’re foster parents now. They’ve fostered three kids so far.”

“That’s great,” she says sincerely. Then, accidentally on purpose and only in part to bring Ramon back to a safe topic, she asks, “Does Ana want a large family?”

Eddie sees through her attempt, but nods. “Yeah, she loves kids.”

Helena doesn’t miss Ramon’s approving nod, or the dark look that passes over Eddie’s eyes when he catches it.

“Was Ana not able to come tonight?” Ramon asks.

“I didn’t ask her,” he answers, his voice a shade too casual. “This is more of a team thing.” As if they hadn’t just been discussing the other families all around them.

“That Ana—” Ramon begins but is interrupted by the arrival of Christopher with a hint of blue icing on his nose and Buck following behind him with two paper plates filled with cake.

Christopher sits backwards on the picnic table bench and uses his arms to lift his legs over while Eddie watches but doesn’t offer to help, and when Christopher is set, Buck places one of the plates in front of him with a plastic fork stuck in the top like a flag.

“Buck was finally able to pull you away, mijo?” Eddie asks as Christopher digs in.

“No, May took her room back so we can’t play on her tv anymore. Harry’s gonna ask his mom if we can play in her room.”

“Yeah...” Buck draws out, sharing a dubious expression with Eddie over Christopher’s head, “I wouldn’t hold out for that, bud.”

“Maybe you can teach the others how to play Scrabble!” Eddie suggests.

Christopher’s nose wrinkles, “Scrabble is boring.”

“Hey!” Buck protests and takes a forkful of Christopher’s cake in retaliation, which prompts Christopher to yell and attack Buck’s cake back, taking much more than a forkful.

The commotion draws attention to their table and Helena’s gearing up to tell Christopher to settle down when she catches Eddie’s eyes on her, waiting.

Helena looks back out to the backyard to say, People are staring.

Eddie looks back impassively as if to say, Let them.

Mom, listen...

Helena swallows her impatience, her anxiety, her embarrassment.

“Hey,” Buck calls, his mouth half full of icing, “did you take your 6?”

Eddie hesitates and that’s enough for Buck to swallow and look put out, already turning and lifting a leg out of the confines of the picnic table.

“Did you turn off your alarm again?”

“I didn’t turn it off the first time, I don’t know what happened.”

“What happened is it woke you up at 6am and you turned it off because sleepy Eddie makes bad life choices.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You don’t have —”

“Right pocket?” Buck interjects, already walking away.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

Christopher looks at him and shakes his head with exaggerated disappointment.

“Don’t you start,” Eddie warns, scooping a fingertip of icing and dabbing it on his son’s nose too quickly for him to duck.

Christopher shrieks and reaches for his cake fingers-first.

“Oh no, no,” Eddie laughs, catching Christopher’s fingers with one hand. “Truce, truce.”

Christopher doesn’t look interested in a truce and Eddie’s other arm is in a sling, so Ramon quickly pulls the cake out of Christopher’s reach, and then Buck’s abandoned piece and Helena does the same with Eddie’s.

“Not fair!” Christopher cries, still reaching.

“Your dad’s hurt, mijo, you can’t attack him with icing while he’s healing,” Ramon says reasonably. “Wait till he’s all better.”

“He’s fine!” Christopher declares with the confidence of a trauma surgeon as he tries to climb up on the bench.

Eddie’s not in a position to pull him back down and Helena doesn’t know how far they can take their non-interference but she’s not about to let her grandson hop over a table to fall into three plates of cake. She’s half-decided she’s going to pick up the cake and walk it back inside when Buck returns, depositing a glass of water on the table and a small white pill into Eddie’s palm before swooping in and tickling Christopher’s sides.

He shrieks loudly, gaining looks from all around the backyard, but it gets his butt back down on the bench and Buck sits back down next to him, boxing him in between himself and Eddie.

“What happened to our cake? How’d it get all the way over there?” The plates are very easily within Buck’s reach; it’s a question for Christopher’s benefit.

“Dad got me like you did!” Christopher cries indignantly, pointing to his nose. “I’m getting him back!”

“Oh man,” Buck nods seriously before his finger darts forward, swipes the icing from his nose and brings it to his mouth. “Mmm, this is better than the one I got you with. You sure you don’t just wanna eat it?”

Christopher looks unconvinced.

“How about this?” Buck ducks down to whisper loudly. “You call a truce with your dad, and then I’ll steal all his icing and we’ll eat it.”

The icing on Eddie’s cake is mostly piled in a corner of his paper plate. He’s never been able to stomach the pure sugary sweetness of store bought icing.

“Okay,” Christopher nods back, reaching out again for his plate but without making grabby hands.

Ramon assesses him for a moment before taking the chance to push the plates back within reach.

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck calls deliberately. “You should take your medication now.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Eddie replies with a smile that conveys an eyeroll. “I’ll do that now.”

While Eddie pops the pill and takes a very long drink of water, Buck “sneakily” pulls his plate towards them and scoops all the piled icing onto his own plate before pushing the cake back to Eddie’s side of the table.

Christopher laughs and pushes Eddie’s plate an extra few inches away out of spite.

Eddie plays the disappointed victim passably well with a half-hearted gasp and a shake of his head. “You little thieves.”

As promised, Buck doles out some of Eddie’s icing to Christopher who immediately protests at the amount left on Buck’s plate.

“Hey, when you’re a big guy like me, you get more icing. Keep eating your proteins and you’ll get there in no time.”

Christopher accepts that easily enough. “I’m gonna be tall like dad.”

Buck scoffs, “Aim higher, kid. Literally.”

“I am barely two inches shorter than you,” Eddie laments, not for the first time, it sounds like.

“It’s practically three. Are you really going to lie in front of your parents?”

Wouldn’t be the first time, is on Helena’s tongue because it’s been hours since she could speak her mind, but she holds it in.

“How was the trip from Texas?” Buck asks them suddenly, bringing them back into the fold of a scene they'd never left but somehow stopped being a part of. “Flights have new restrictions on them now, don’t they?”

Mom, listen...

When the party is winding down and they walk outside to the driveway, Eddie surprises them by offering them both a hug.

“Thank you for coming,” he says sincerely, though Helena hears the underlying “and behaving” and can’t help but bristle.

“Thank you for inviting us, mijo,” Ramon says; his turn to save Helena from herself.

And when Eddie lets them know he and Chris will be getting their ride back from Buck, Ramon takes Helena’s hand and they smile almost sincerely as they say their goodnights.

—————-

The next week happens to be Isabel’s 80th birthday and Helena and Ramon keep themselves busy by helping to throw a party that will reunite every vaccinated member of the family in the area (they’re not about to take a chance on Isabel’s health).

Things have been getting better with Eddie. They had a second therapy session, again at Isabel’s island counter, where they lasted a good 25 minutes before devolving into yelling. The next day, Eddie asked Ramon for a ride to physical therapy, and easily accepted his father’s offer of lunch after the appointment.

Then, when Helena asked if she could pick up some groceries for him and Christopher, she was refused — in no small part, she thinks, because he still won’t let them in his house — but instead of going off on him, she channeled that anger and resentment into nearly buying out Costco for Isabel’s party. It felt like progress Dr. Jamieson would be proud of.

That’s why, despite the party officially kicking off around 11am, they’re just past supper time and all tables and counters are still nearly buckling under the weight of the food. They’ll have to send everyone home with leftovers if the flow of people stops. Isabel’s front door has been a turnstile since this morning and Helena knows from experience it’ll likely stay that way until the late hours of the night. Most recently, Helena’s daughters made their appearance, and it’s not at all the reason Helena is back in the kitchen.

Despite coming from opposite ends with different travel distances, Adriana and Sophia arrived within a half hour of each other, a move Helena saw through instantly. The idea that her children coordinated to arrive together instead of risking the possibility of facing their parents alone sets a fire raging in her heart, and she realizes suddenly that she isn’t prepared to be hypervigilant of her every word with all three of her kids here now to push her buttons.

So, she retreats to the kitchen.

She doesn’t expect one of them to follow her in.

“I heard you guys were doing therapy,” Adriana volleys as she approaches.

Helena cracks open the tray of chocolate chip cookies and starts plating them, her face angled down so any kneejerk expression of distaste isn’t as visible. “Apparently, that’s what the cool kids do nowadays.”

“It is,” Adriana agrees, the bangles on her wrists clinking on the countertop as she reaches for the box of oatmeal cookies to plate. She’s a year into her Master’s in communication. What she intends to do with that is a mystery to them. So much of their kids’ lives are a mystery now. Helena closes the lid of the cookie tray hard and relishes in the snap of the plastic groove into the tongue.

“Paying a stranger to tell us when and how to talk to each other is cool,” she bites. It’s not posed as a question, just a bitter acknowledgement.

Adriana is quiet and Helena starts plating mini quiches onto the cookie platter just to stay occupied while her daughter walks away. Sophia is a yeller, she stands her ground and gives as good as she gets. Adriana, however, is a runner, just like Eddie.

But Adriana doesn’t leave in a huff. She turns to the counter and grabs a second platter, moving the mini quiches onto that one.

“It’s cool that you’re open to trying,” she says. “I think that, in any family where there’s love, there’s going to be hurt. And the longer we stay stuck in that hurt, the harder it becomes to talk about it without causing more. We get stuck in patterns that we can’t break out of, and people on the outside can be the best ones to point out those patterns and help you break out of them to get to what you actually, truly want to say.”

Helena knows what she actually, truly wants to say. That’s not the problem. The problem is that none of her kids want to hear it.

“I see a therapist,” Adriana continues. Helena stills and looks at her daughter, calmly arranging the mini quiches into concentric circles. “Since my last year of undergrad. When things got really hard and I couldn’t understand why. They helped me. A lot. Helped me figure out what was wrong and how to get myself through it.”

“You didn’t tell us,” Helena says, her voice thick.

“I know,” her daughter replies simply. “I didn’t know how. I’m telling you now because what I actually, truly want to say is that I’m proud of you and dad for doing this. And maybe if you don’t hate it...maybe we could try a session later too.”

There’s an offer in her daughter’s words, an open hand reaching out. But in that hand, Helena sees her failures as a parent, the judgement of the world for failing her kids, and she doesn’t want to reach her own hand out.

Mom, listen…

Helena looks at her eldest daughter, almost a stranger to her, with an entire life Helena is only starting to realize she has no part in. It hurts — it always hurts when the kids pull away but to realize she didn’t even know the extent of it...she wants to hurt back.

Mom, listen…

But she’s trying so hard to break those patterns Adriana speaks of. So instead, Helena thinks of the therapist’s advice leading them into a piece of Eddie’s life they wouldn’t have otherwise gotten to see and swallows past the indignation in her throat to reach down and find the words she actually, truly wants to say.

“You say when, and I’ll be there.”

———-

The sun is setting when Helena finally agrees to get off her feet and just enjoy the party outside while the cousins take over the serving and cleaning. There are four generations of Diazes gathered around but for the first time ever, most of the cousins are young adults, not teenagers, and it’s nice to be able to pass on the hosting responsibilities to them for a bit.

The sky is clear, the sunset resplendent from Isabel’s backyard, and the conversation is flowing easily. It’s a beautiful evening, warm with a gentle breeze cool enough to let her lean back against Ramon in his lounge chair, one of his arms wrapped loosely around her hip.

For the first time since getting Isabel’s text, Helena feels something like peace wash over her and she almost feels bad for the thrum of vindication in her stomach when she spots Eddie slumped comfortably in an armchair, his legs propped up on another chair.

He’s at home here.

Yes, he was at ease at his captain’s house but this is family, this is where he can really sink into the love and comfort and rest. With his aunts and uncles, cousins and sisters around to take care of him. And Christopher, who spent the afternoon running around and chomping down on all the sugar he could get his hands on, slumped against him, nearly asleep. This is family.

She knows he could find that peace back in El Paso, they both could. Eddie had friends there, and his parents, who knew his son better than he did for most of his life. And there are fires in El Paso same as there are in LA, but less smog, less general insanity.

But Eddie’s a lot like his parents, too much like them maybe, and once he’s decided on a course of action he can’t be swayed. So Helena has made peace with it. Rather, she’s made peace with pretending to be okay with it while she waits for him to come to the realization that he should move back.

And in the meantime, if they can mend this thorniness between them, then maybe she and Ramon can make more of these impromptu trips. Maybe even convince Eddie to come home for Christmas this year. At the very least, go back to regular video chats.

But all that ruminating feels far away right now. She’s moving gently with the rise and fall of Ramon’s chest, and she’s so close to slipping away to the feeling of contentment when a new arrival makes her open eyes she didn’t realize she’d closed.

“Feliz cumpleanos,” she hears someone say in half-decent Spanish from the front door on the other side of the side yard fence.

She doesn’t recognize the voice as yet another cousin or uncle, but Eddie shakes Christopher’s shoulder gently, and says, “hey, guess who’s here.”

It takes a moment, but the words penetrate Christopher’s sleepiness. His eyes pop open and he shimmies out of Eddie’s lap and into his crutches to power walk over to the gate just in time for it to open, admitting Isabel, holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and a sheepish looking Buck behind her.

“Buck!” Christopher yells.

Buck’s smile widens and he immediately opens his arms. “Hey, superman!”

Buck crouches down and Christopher throws his arms around his neck, crutches and all. When it’s time to break apart, Christopher’s still hanging on and Helena feels a stab of dark vindication at what’s about to happen, and the look Ramon sends her way tells her she’s not alone. Because Christopher is now officially in the double digits, and while he’s always been an independent kid, becoming 10 years old was a big deal for him and his perceived level of maturity, and apparently the year he decided no one was allowed to carry him anymore.

And now Christopher’s tired and in the grip of a powerful sugar crash. He’s not going to suffer any indignities, and Helena knows she should feel bad about not trying to stop Buck. About just watching this play out to see him be rejected. But she wasn’t expecting to see him here, in this safe haven of Isabel’s backyard, in this space for family and loved ones, and it rankles her. It feels like everywhere she turns in LA, she finds him there. And his being here is just another nail in the coffin of Eddie stubbornly refusing to let his parents back into his home. That he would call his friend to this party just to avoid letting them give him a ride…

So she’s a little bitter, a little resentful of the persistent, low-key rejection. Sue her. Eddie has made it clear he doesn’t want them interfering anyway so this is on him.

“Christopher,” Eddie calls, a warning to not make a scene.

Buck looks over Christopher’s shoulder and smiles. “He’s fine,” he says.

Then he’s heaving Christopher’s body up into his arms and onto his hip and Christopher…

...Christopher slumps down over Buck’s shoulder like a baby koala. No sound of protest leaves his lips. His face, if it shows any displeasure, is hidden behind Buck’s neck.

And when Eddie gets up, it’s not to intercede, it’s only to grab the errant crutches before they hit something, and to pull his own armless chair out for Buck to sit on because apparently Buck is staying, and apparently Christopher is staying with him.

“He’s a bit old to be carried around, no?” Ramon says with a bite, because he can’t help himself.

Eddie, who’s been watching his son fondly, barely bats an eye. “He gets cuddly when he’s tired, and Buck’s nearly the only one left who’s big enough to carry him.”

“Ah, that’s why you spend so much time developing these,” Pepa says with a sly smile as she pinches at Buck’s bicep. The same familiar pinch she gave her own grandkids’ cheeks.

“Gracias a Dios,” Isabel adds meaningfully.

“That was adrenaline,” Eddie dismisses with a teasing grin.

“That was 100 squats and 50 pushups a day,” Buck returns blithely. “...and maybe a little adrenaline.”

“What’s this?” Ramon asks before she can.

Instead of prompting more teasing, the mood falls slightly and everyone looks to each other.

Finally, Eddie sighs. “When I got shot, Buck army crawled under a ladder truck to get me out and lifted me into the truck to get to the hospital.”

It strikes Helena suddenly, shamefully, that in the shock of finding out they’d missed the event itself, the hospital stay, and two entire weeks of healing, that they’d never circled back around for details on what actually went down the day it happened.

She never thought to wonder how he got off that street. How he got to the hospital. Who might have saved his life.

And she wishes she were a better person then. Wishes that learning Buck saved her son’s life overpowered her irritation at having him sitting here in Isabel’s backyard like he belonged here when Helena herself barely felt like she did herself. It does help, though.

“They released the street footage of the shooting,” Pepa continues quietly. “It’s on YouTube. Before I even knew it happened, Marguerita from church just sent me a link saying ‘they said it’s a Diaz, do you know him?’ and I saw.”

The idea of her son’s shooting being passed around like a cat video makes Helena sick, but Pepa lamenting how she hadn’t known when she learned about it in a matter of hours and sat on it for weeks…

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Pepa says decisively. “But they have an angle where you can see our Buck here go and get Eddie, pick him up like he doesn’t weigh a thing and get him into the truck to get to the hospital. Probably why he’s alive today. So gracias a Dios for those squats.”

Eddie and Buck are both looking away, both looking safely at Christopher while the table digests the news.

“If you were looking for a story of something really dumb, I can point you in the direction of another video of Buck,” Eddie says, his tone jovial but his eyes strained.

“You need to let that go,” Buck says in a definite whine.

“Do I?” Eddie asks. “Abuela did you see the video of the firefighter who went up the crane all alone?”

“Dios mío, Buck,” Pepa laments.

“Did you send it to me?” Abuela asks her, pulling out her phone and her glasses to check.

“No, mamá, it was an idiot firefighter but I didn’t realize it was the one we knew.”

“In the middle of an all-out declaration of war on firefighters,” Eddie begins, quietly for Christopher’s sake, but impassioned, sitting up in his chair, “this idiota and his squat count climbed up a crane ladder, completely exposed and defenseless—”

Buck looks pained. “I was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet. And that’s the job sometimes—”

“The paramedics’ job, actually, which you aren’t. So, no, that wasn’t the job.” Eddie’s tone edges into something darker without his meaning to. He takes a drink of his lemonade looking for all the world like he wished it was a beer. “And you know that or I wouldn’t have found out about it from Chim a month after the fact.”

Helena clenches her jaw tight and squeezes Ramon’s hand even tighter so neither of them can say, So you have a problem being left in the dark too?

“Buck,” Isabel sighs with disappointment.

Buck winces. “It was before— ” He cuts himself off, his wide eyes darting towards Helena and Ramon of all people.

“Hmm,” Isabel answers noncommittally, as if to end the conversation.

Just then, Sophia brings out a platter of bite-sized desserts, making the rounds of the whole circle for people to pick at before leaving it on the table. The opportunity to move on is there. That doesn’t mean they’re interested in taking it.

“Before what?” Ramon asks, his tone is forcibly casual.

The silence that greets Ramon’s question is heavy. Guilty. When Helena casts her eyes around, she’s greeted by stiff shoulders and a mix of apprehension shared between her son, her mother- and sister-in-law, and Buck.

Mom, listen...

“Before what?” Helena repeats, her voice uncompromising.

———-

The fight they have in Isabel’s guest bedroom is a Hall of Famer. It’s a screaming match, no doubt about it. The doors from the bedroom to the yard are all closed but there’s no question every member of the family — and Buck — can hear every word.

“Do you really hate us that much?” Helena demands. She’s crying but she doesn’t know if it’s heartbreak or fury, she just wishes it’d stop so she could lean into her anger. “Genuinely, honestly, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you,” he protests, keeping his own voice down, making it seem like they’re irrational for their anger.

“Bullshit,” she spits.

“You must!” Ramon adds. “You hate us so much that you have to hate your sisters too? Your cousins? You would rather leave your only son to a stranger, some gringo coworker, than with family? That’s how much you hate us? Hate our name?”

“Our name?” Eddie shoots back incredulously. “What are you talking about, our name? We’re not royalty, papi, and Chris’ name would never change.”

“You would leave him to your coworker,” Helena stresses, disgust dripping from her tongue.

“To my best friend,” Eddie retorts, “who Christopher adores, if you haven’t noticed. And who adores Christopher right back.”

“That’s not normal, mijo,” Ramon warns.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie seethes. “Please do not star—”

“What kind of single adult man bonds with another man’s child like that?”

“You’re describing a tío, you understand that right? What, you think it’s weird that Pepa loves me like her own? You think Sophia should stay away from Chris too?”

“That’s family,” Helena argues.

“And they’re women!”

“Ramon, shut up,” Helena snaps.

“Buck is our family, and he’s a man, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If anything happened to me, Christopher would be taken care of like if I was still here.”

“Buck, the one who nearly got him killed in the tsunami? That’s the same guy right?” Ramon throws out, his eyes a little wild as he paces.

“The one who saved his life in that tsunami, despite being injured and then some. And the one who’s saved my life more times than I can count, including from being gunned down on the street. We’d both probably be dead if not f— ”

“Isn’t he the one who’s family is worse off than ours?” Helena recalls. “So he has no family, no support, no girlfriend even! So a worse position than you’re in now. That’s what you want to leave him with.”

“He doesn’t need a girlfriend to raise Christopher right, I don’t! And he has a great sister, he has the 118, he has Carla, and he has our family. You think Abuela and Pepa would shut the door on him? He’d be here every Sunday, with Christopher, just like I am.”

“And what does your girlfriend think of this?” Ramon presses. “The vice principal, she thinks this is normal?”

“Ana doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Eddie says, frowning.

Helena balks. “You think the woman you’ve been seeing seriously for nearly a year has nothing to do with long-term decisions about your son? You think maybe she wouldn’t want the option of taking Christopher in if something happened to you?”

“That’s not happening, he’s going to Buck and that’s final.”

“What’s going on with you and this gringo?” Ramon asks suspiciously. “Are you even going out with Ana or was that another lie?”

“Ramon, don’t go there,” Helena sighs, her heart clenching. That’s all they need in this clusterfuck, that layer of pain.

“No, let’s go there because you know what?” Eddie asks darkly. “There is no one on this planet I trust with my son more than Buck and yeah, if we need to lay it all out there, that includes the two of you. I know you love Christopher, just like I know Shannon loved him, but that’s not always going to be enough. Buck isn’t going to fill my son’s head with ideas about the wrong kind of way to love someone. He’s not going to tell him he’s not good enough for his family to love him or support him. Buck’s going to make sure Christopher grows up to follow his heart and find whatever makes him happiest in the world, no matter what that looks like.”

“How could you think—”

“What if he grows up to be gay?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring his father down. “You’re telling me you’re going to be the one to help him pick out a suit to go to prom with his boyfriend?”

Ramon purses his lips but tries, “it’s a different world now,” as if he hadn’t just tried to make crass insinuations just to hurt his son.

“Okay,” Eddie says, not believing him for a moment, “what if he’s trans? Tells you at 15 that he’s a girl and he wants to transition. You’re going to get him on hormone therapy?”

“Eddie that’s not—”

“What if he’s 20 and he tells you he got a girl pregnant by accident and he doesn’t know her enough to love her, and he’s not ready to be a father let alone a husband?”

Helena tries to speak but her throat is suddenly too tight for words to get out.

“You gonna tell him he’s not a man if he doesn’t marry her anyway?”

Ramon says nothing.

“Christopher is going to Buck, and that’s final.”

——————-

Helena and Ramon don’t show up for the third therapy session.

Their plane tickets were only for three weeks, originally, and as the days run out, they don’t talk about extensions.

———-

Helena is sitting out in Isabel’s backyard, trying to conjure up that feeling of serenity she got to bask in for all of two minutes the night of the birthday party.

It’s not working.

They’re going back to El Paso tomorrow, leaving their relationship with Eddie in worse straits than when they arrived.

There’s always been a tension between them and Eddie, but there’s also always been love and respect, and that love and respect formed a polite barrier around the things they couldn’t talk about. It kept their relationship safe. Kept them from getting too close to real honesty where things hurt in ways that couldn’t be walked back.

It feels now like that barrier has fallen. That Eddie’s finally reached the limit of what he could hold back and now there’s nothing to help them pretend everything is okay. Nothing to help Helena believe this is all something that could blow over.

That’s to say nothing of Christopher, who’s never felt as far away as he does now, even while they linger in the same city, only a couple dozen blocks away.

Helena scrolls listlessly through her phone’s camera roll for the last few weeks. There are pictures of Christopher mostly, but Eddie and the rest of the family are there too. It hurts to notice how Eddie is markedly happier in the shots where he’s looking away from the camera. Away from her.

Mom, listen…

Helena opens up Instagram and lets herself forget for a moment that anything is wrong. On Instagram, there is only joy and fun. And Buck.

Eddie hasn’t posted anything to his account in months but starting from the end and working backwards, Buck features heavily. He’s in at least a third of the pictures, usually with Christopher. One of the posts includes a short video that she watches. It’s of the day they unveiled the adapted skateboard, and it nourishes her soul. There’s no sadness here, or tension, only pure radiating happiness and excitement. It’s magical.

And it’s meaningful.

Mom, listen…

Helena is out of her chair and pocketing Isabel’s car keys before she can talk herself out of it. The drive to Eddie’s house is made with a carefully blank mind. She knows if she lets herself think about what she’s going to say, she’s going to spiral and get to a place where all this fear and sadness turn dark and ugly, and she can’t afford to risk it.

Finally, she’s knocking gently on a front door she’s only seen three times in the weeks she’s been here.

Buck answers the door.

————-

The house is quiet when Helena steps in.

She doesn’t bother taking her shoes off this time, she’s not sure how long she’ll be allowed to stay. But she notices that the space where her shoes would have gone is taken up by a pair of large boots she imagines fit perfectly on Buck’s feet.

Buck disappears into the living room and she follows quietly after him. The lights are off but the muted tv glows brightly enough for her to see Eddie reclined on his back on the couch, sleeping, and Buck sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to shake his arm.

Eddie’s always been a light sleeper, especially after the army and Christopher. He doesn’t wake easily now.

He’s wearing the sling, but it’s the only indication that anything is amiss with him. There’s no sign of pain or worry on his face, no tension in his shoulders. He’s practically melted into the recesses of the couch. He’s a picture of comfort. And why shouldn’t he be? He’s in his home, away from family, from expectations, and judgements. Just him and Christopher. And Buck.

Eddie finally takes a deep breath that shows his body is coming around but his eyes stay closed. Buck is murmuring something but she only catches, “ — mom — here.”

Then, at last, Eddie’s eyelids part, and the deep laxness of his body disappears almost in the blink of an eye.

“What?” he croaks, already trying to sit up.

Buck’s hands are already moving to support his back.

“ — says she wants to apologize.”

Eddie scoffs and sits upright, feet firmly planted on the floor as he blinks himself awake.

“Mom?”

“I’m here,” she says, stepping closer into the light of the tv.

Buck catches Eddie’s eye and they have an entire conversation in five silent seconds that ends with Buck nodding and getting up from the table, watching Helena warily as she approaches further.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly to Eddie before flipping the wall switch and illuminating the room. He lingers for a moment, clearly undecided about leaving, before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Finally, Helena is alone with her son in his home. The quiet is almost peaceful, she doesn’t want to break it. Eddie does instead.

“Buck said you wanted to apologize, so I’m assuming he misheard,” Eddie says wryly.

There are pillow creases on the side of his face and Helena can’t remember the last time she saw him look so disheveled, so at home. It makes her heart ache for the days when she’d have to force him out of bed at noon on weekends, drive him to wrestling practice early in the morning, watch over him as he slept sometimes, just to make sure he was okay.

“Shockingly, no,” she smiles sadly.

Eddie blinks up at her for a moment before shifting down on the couch, leaving her some room to sit. She takes the invitation, but once she’s sitting down with Eddie’s full attention on her, she realizes not preparing what she wanted to say might have been a mistake. She has no idea where to begin. What scab to pick at that won’t cause more bleeding.

Then she remembers Adriana’s words.

What is it, under all the posturing, all the hurt feelings, all the history and baggage...what is it she actually, truly wants to say?

“I’m sorry I missed therapy.”

Eddie huffs a surprised laugh. “Of all the things…”

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am. I…” She forces herself to slow down and consider her words. “I realize that therapy was an olive branch for you. One we took way too late and I’m...I’m just so fucking grateful we were able to take it at all, in the end.”

The tears are coming and there’s nothing she can do to stop them. They gather in the corner of her eyes and she tries to blink them away but has to settle for wiping away the ones that fall anyway.

“You were right,” she says. “You said — and your sister said, and the therapist said — that there’s a lot of hurt, and it’s become too hard to...to connect with each other because of it. And therapy is probably the only bridge through that. So even though I was pissed at you, I should have showed up.”

She hazards a look up at Eddie to find his brown eyes wide and cautiously wondering.

“Therapy is what’s going to help us and the only way to fail at it is to not show up.” It’s what the therapist had said in their first session. It had sounded like an easy thing to do then. “And that’s not okay. I’m not going to do that again.”

Eddie nods and looks away. His fingernails are flicking nervously against each other — a habit he picked up from her. “Is dad on the same page as you?”

Helena takes a deep breath, and blows out, “No, your dad is looking for a match to light the page on fire.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but there’s heavy hurt behind the indifference.

“I hid all of them,” Helena offers, “and left Abuela with the fire extinguisher.”

That gets a small smile.

“I really expected you to be more pissed about it than him,” Eddie says, he reclines against the arm of the sofa but no part of him looks comfortable with this conversation.

“Oh, I am—” The rage swells up in her. The outrage and indignation. But again, Adriana’s voice comes to her. “I...am...really, truly hurt, Eddie. I feel...I feel like you told me I’m not good enough to love Christopher how he needs.”

Eddie’s face collapses with disbelief. “You mean the way you’ve been making me feel since he was born? Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“Since the moment Shannon got pregnant, you’ve both been hammering it in on us that we’d never be enough, we’d never be good enough for him. Why do you think I joined the army? Why do you think Shannon ran?”

The accusation makes her breathless, it makes that familiar rage bubble up closer to the surface. “Shannon made her own choices, you’re not going to pin that on us. And so did you.”

“No, I can’t pin that on you. She did choose to leave,” he concedes, his voice hardening. “But you spent five years telling her over and over that nothing she ever did was good enough, and when I got back you did the same to me! ‘Don’t drag him down with you.’ Does that ring any bells?”

“I spent five years helping her, being a second parent to Christopher when she was in over her head. She needed help. She wasn’t cut out—”

“No, she wasn’t,” Eddie agrees. “Neither of us were. We were stupid fucking kids who barely knew each other. She was supposed to get back on a plane to California when the semester was done and instead we got married in the backyard because you told us that’s what we had to do.”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie. You want to blame me for Christopher being born? For raising him in a family with two parents?”

“You’re not listening,” Eddie spits.

“I’m listening to you say over and over how I ruined your life because I didn’t let Shannon get an abortion. And that’s somehow the reason to keep us out of Christopher’s life now?”

“No, you’re not—” Eddie closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. “I love Christopher with everything I am. If I had the chance to go back and do everything differently, I wouldn’t. I would never. Being his father is the most important thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I was a kid in over my head and my parents didn’t know what was best for me. Didn’t know how to help me. And I figured that out on my own, I grew up and became the man I am now on my own.” She wants to argue but he’s on a roll. “And that’s fine, no parent is perfect. I know I’m going to make mistakes and I hope to god Christopher can forgive me, so I need to forgive you yours. But I need you to see me, now. I need you to look at me and realize I’m not that kid you put in a suit in the backyard. I’m not the kid that signed up to get shot at instead of facing his life. I’m not that kid anymore, mom. I’m not.”

“I see that, Eddie.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t constantly be telling me I need to move back to El Paso to take proper care of Christopher. You’d see that our lives are here now. I have a job I love and pays what we need. Christopher loves his school, his friends. He’s a popular, genius kid. He’s happy. I’m happy. And we’re doing good. But you don’t see that. You see that dumbass, scared kid making his next mistakes. And I’m sorry but I’m not going to let you drag me back into that spiral. If you need to be the parent to that kid, I can’t be the kid you’re parenting. I’ve grown up, mom.”

“So,” Helena clears her throat, hoping the waver in it will clear too. “That’s what the guardianship is? We...lost sight of you growing up. We didn’t give you what you needed. So you’re punishing us?”

Eddie sighs as if she didn’t understand.

“No, you know what? No, I’m sorry,” she switches tracks, her voice hard, “how are we supposed to see this new person you’ve become, Eddie? You left El Paso, left us behind, you won’t come home for holidays, you even stopped posting on Instagram, and when we come here to see you’re alive you won’t even let us into your home. So how? How are we supposed to see this magical transformation when you won’t let us in?”

Eddie watches her for a moment, weighing his words. “You show up for therapy.”

And that takes the wind out of her sails.

That’s what she came here for.

To apologize.

Not keep yelling.

Mom, listen…

Helena takes two deep breaths and crooks a smile. “Yeah.”

“You yell a lot.”

Christopher’s voice startles them both, pulling a short grunt of pain from Eddie as his shoulder jerks back. Christopher is leaning against the wall into the living room, wearing the disgruntled pout of someone who was woken up for no good reason.

“Christopher…” Eddie begins, trying to leverage himself off the couch.

Helena pushes him back down, and turns to Christopher, opening her arms.

“I do,” Helena admits softly, as Christopher comes over and leans into her side. “I do yell a lot. I’m...trying to yell less.”

“Dad never yells.”

Eddie smiles tiredly.

“Hmm,” Helena agrees, “I think there’s a lot of things I need to learn from your daddy.”

Christopher nods, his eyes drooping. “He’s the best,” he says, snuggling into her shoulder. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow so she takes the opportunity to relish in this hug, and press a long kiss on his curls.

“Ah, I thought I heard an escape artist on the prowl,” Buck says as he turns the corner.

“We woke him up,” Eddie says redundantly. “We’ll keep it quiet now, buddy.”

“K,” Christopher mumbles.

“Okay, buddy, let’s get you back to bed” Buck says quietly as he leans over to carefully scoop him into his arms. Christopher’s arms loop around his neck like he’s done it a million times, and his head falls to Buck’s shoulder.

“Buck’s the best too,” Christopher mumbles.

Buck’s ducks his face away.

“That’s what I hear,” Helena allows in a tone she hopes is gracious.

As they leave, they can hear Christopher say, “they stole your bed.”

Buck responds but it’s too quiet for them to follow the rest of the conversation.

Eddie ducks his head and sighs.

“That’s why you were keeping us away?” Helena asks, her voice more gentle than she thought she could muster at this point. “Because Buck’s crashing on your couch?”

Now that she’s looking, she spots the folded duvet stacked on the chair in the corner, the pillows tucked neatly below. It only makes her more aware that she found Eddie sleeping soundly on the very same couch.

“I didn’t — I didn’t want questions. I didn’t want dad’s look, the same look he has every time Buck comes up. The same look—�� Eddie sighs harshly. “I didn’t feel like fielding questions. He was here for Christopher when I was in the hospital and when I came home… He helps. A lot.”

Helena nods pensively, and surprises herself by finding a kernel of gratitude towards Buck burgeoning in her chest.

“So, speaking of fucking up as parents,” she begins with a crooked smile that fades by the end of the phrase. She doesn’t know how to finish that sentence so she starts a new one. “The...hurt that piles up, that makes it hard to talk through...does some of it come from Matty?”

She can see an instinct flare up in her son to shake his head and dismiss the topic, but he doesn’t let it take hold. It’s time to face this.

“It didn’t help,” he admits.

Eddie and Matty met in sixth grade and became best friends almost instantly. They spent weekends in sleepovers, fought off other classmates to be each others’ group project partners, and spent every summer going to the same camps. Matty was an honorary Diaz before they even hit their teens.

Five years later, Matty came out to his family, and then to theirs. His parents took it well, Eddie’s parents didn’t.

The sleepovers stopped, the summer camps stopped, and if Ramon could have sent Eddie to another class he would have.

The day he came out to them was the last day he stepped foot in the Diaz home, a natural consequence of Ramon having run him out with caustic, angry words.

“We…” Helena licks her lips and looks away to gather her thoughts. “There’s a lot of reasons we reacted the way we did. Ignorance, more than anything. It really was a different world back then. But...the world has kept turning, things have kept changing and we can’t pretend to be ignorant anymore.” She looks Eddie in the eye to say, “we were wrong. We were wrong to chase him away. And if the day comes that Christopher is gay or trans or any of the other words we haven’t learned yet, we’re going to love him just as much as we do now.”

Eddie keeps her gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m glad to hear it.” The way his shoulders gather near his ears says he doesn’t believe her though he’s trying.

Because when Eddie and Matty stood shoulder to shoulder to tell Ramon and Helena the news, Matty wasn’t the only one crushed. And they know, somewhere deep down, that their reaction was as extreme as it was because they were never fully sure if the hurt in Eddie’s eyes was on behalf of his best friend, or if they exploded before more news could be told.

And it still scares Helena to this day, to this very moment sitting on her son’s couch. It’s why they welcomed Shannon at first, the first girl Eddie really brought home, even though they didn’t approve of her overall.

But she knows now that there’s nothing anymore, not her pride, not her ignorance, that will stop her from trying to bridge the gap between them. So she continues deliberately, “and if this new, grown up version of you comes with any of those words, we’re not going to love you any less either.”

His eyes widen and for a moment she’s looking at her 17 year old son in the living room, eyes wide as Matty runs out of the house. She wishes this moment could replace that one, stamp out that mistake forever. But it can’t, so she has to make this one count even more.

“I’ll still be here, and I’m listening. I...I see you,” she says. “You and Christopher. I see you settled in so well here, even now with your injury.”

Eddie remains quiet, but apprehension creeps across his face and his eyes dart behind her where Buck and Christopher disappeared.

“I see the boots at the entrance,” she continues, her voice pitched low, “the extra toothbrush you forgot to hide away. The tupperwares full of food Isabel and Ana didn’t make. But more than anything, I see Buck. Everywhere.” A smile creeps up her lips. “The only place I didn’t see him was at brunch with Ana and call me crazy but I feel like you would have preferred he was there too.”

Eddie’s lip is being chewed to within an inch of its life, and his eyes are trained on the couch cushion.

“Hey,” she taps his knee. “You...grew up to be a good man, and a good father.” The words are so many years too late but she’s grateful to see them land as Eddie’s eyes begin to shimmer. “And you deserve everything you want for Christopher. Happiness, whatever that looks like.”

Eddie swallows thickly and clears his throat. “And dad?”

“Dad...has his head too far up his own ass to see or hear anything,” Helena admits. “But he’s due for a colonoscopy soon so I’ll work on it.”

Eddie chokes on a laugh that catches him off-guard and suddenly they’re both laughing, quietly so they don’t wake Christopher up again.

When they recover, Eddie invites her to the kitchen for a drink, where Buck is packing Christopher’s lunch for school tomorrow.

When she leaves, her stomach is in knots she imagines won’t smooth out for a few weeks yet, but a weight’s been lifted off her chest and her heart is full in a way it hasn’t been in years.

When she lands in El Paso, her phone pings with a message from Eddie: Hope you had a good flight. Free Friday for a call?

———-

When Friday comes, after catching up with Christopher, Eddie tells them he broke it off with Ana.

Helena digs her nails into Ramon’s knee instinctively, but she prepared him well and despite his continued reservations, all he says is, “That’s too bad, mijo.”

———-

Two months of virtual therapy and video chats later, Eddie tells them he’s bisexual. They react the way they should have all those years ago, and Helena tries to be grateful they got to have this moment at all instead of mourn for the years Eddie lost because of them.

There’s no mention of Buck, but Eddie’s eyes flit fondly over the laptop screen every once in a while at Christopher and someone else off-screen.

The call takes place at 8am LA time, and the sling has been gone for nearly three weeks.

———

At Christmas, Eddie and Christopher are waiting for them with smiles on their faces at LAX’s baggage claim. When they get home, Buck is there opening the door and helping them with their luggage.

Isabel isn’t there to mediate but supper that evening goes smoothly. The tension that lurks is anticipatory on all sides, a feeling of this being too good to last. But by dessert, everyone is sitting back in their chairs and smiling. And when Buck rounds the table to start the clean up, he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb brushing the back of Eddie’s neck, and Helena watches as the last bit of strain melts out of his body.

The basket of gauze is nowhere to be found in the bathroom, nor is the purple toothbrush. Instead, there’s a third electric toothbrush standing in line with the rest.

Helena’s been keeping an eye out for opportunities to follow Adriana’s advice. To find the words she actually, truly means, and say them before she runs out of time. So before turning in, she takes Eddie aside and tells him, “I’m really happy you found your home here in LA. I’m really proud of the family you’ve made.”

And when she closes her arms around him, she can feel him fold into her like he used to as a kid, no polite distance or anxiety. Just comfort.

#buddie #buddie fic #helena diaz #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #my fics #my posts #y'all I struggled so hard to get this up before the premiere #please understand I woke up at 7am on a Sunday to get it done #my soul is weary #i hope you like them #omg I'm so sorry I forgot the readmore originally #it's up now

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goldencherryhazz · 3 years

Text

Work from home

A/N: first smut piece, let me know your thoughts, pls don’t copy my work, feedback and notes would be much appreciated!probably some mistakes 🤍

daddy!harry x sub!reader

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, oral, spanking, fluff. Pure filth basically.

WC: 3k

Harry hated leaving y/n, just so that he could endure countless meetings on zoom with his team, producers and whatnot when he could be spending time with his girl, after having to spending so long away from each other whilst he was on tour, but he knew it had to be done due to the ongoing pandemic, and the world basically coming to a halt. He loved his job and his fans, so he was going to do anything he could remotely, to try and bring some normalcy to this whirlwind.

Now Harry was a hard working man, and once he was in the zone, he didn’t liked to be interrupted until he was finished. He had left a kiss to her head when he left to go to his office a mere 2 hours ago which made her stir from her slumber. She wanted more, and had fallen back to sleep with the thought of being stuffed with his cock, leaving her to wake up again with the feeling of emptiness and need.

She tried to snap out of it, but doing that didn’t stop her from falling into subspace, she genuinely tried to get herself off, to satisfy herself, she started by lifting he shirt up, hissing as the chilly air came into contact with her nipples, hardening them, she pinched each one, twiddling them between her forefinger and thumb, before venturing lower down her stomach, tracing her hands over it until she touched the band of her sleep shorts, she wasted no time it taking them off and flinging them over the side of the bed, she then touched over her damp pussy, starting to rub light circles onto her clit, getting even wetter at the thought of Harry teasing her little cunt then fucking her into oblivion, she then teased two fingers over her entrance before pushing them in and curving them so that they hit her sweet spot, pushing them in and out, but getting no closer to cumming, she eventually gave up after about 5 minutes, and then made a decision, which led her to where she is now...

Stood outside Harry’s office, clad in one of her best sets of lingerie, that she knew Harry loved, as a lure to try and convince him, she took in a nervous breath, she hoped that he wouldn’t decline her, she couldn’t wait any longer. Y/n was willing to do anything in order to be able to have Harry make her cum, she just wanted the tingling sensation in he clit to be dealt with.

She knocked twice, opening the door as soon as she heard a gruff ‘come in` , she took two steps into the room, shutting the door behind her, before waiting patiently for Harry to stop typing and look up at her.

‘What the fuck are you wearing darling` he uttered already knowing the already obvious answer.

She took in the way he looked her up and down, almost hungrily, he was trying not to just give in to her which was quite impossible most of the time, he could feel his cock stirring in the loose fabric of his sweats, but he knew that she knew that he didn’t like to be disturbed whilst he was working, if she wanted him that badly, he was going to make her work for it.

‘Really need you daddy' she said without hesitation.

‘Aww baby, you feeling subby today` he cooed.

‘Yeah, tried to make myself cum, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same as you, my clits tingling daddy’

‘Well unfortunately for you daddy’s working, how bad do you need me baby, tell me’ he questioned, resting his head on the palm of his hand.

‘Need you to fuck me daddy, need to feel you inside me, I want you to choke me, be a little rough with me, I’m just feeling really empty` she choked out, her eyes glazing over in frustration.

The sudden sound of an incoming zoom call made its way through the room, he looked at her dead in the eyes ‘I’ve got an idea baby, how about you get yourself off on the corner of my desk, you’ve got to be quiet though, don’t want anyone to knowing what my naughty girls doing, and no cumming, you understand baby?’

‘Yes daddy` she said, walking over to his desk, her knees slightly weak.

He answered the call, greeted his team, trying not to get distracted by y/n as she hovered over the corner of his desk, before bending her knees slightly, her clothed clit coming into contact with the cold surface of the wood, making her hiss quietly, she braced both of her hands on the desk, before starting to slide her pussy back and forth, creating a delicious friction that she couldn’t get enough of.

Harry managed to focus on the meeting for the majority of it, flicking his eyes back to her every so often, watching as she traced he dainty fingers over her bare tummy, toying with her breast, he could feel himself getting harder and harder under his desk, to the point where he could feel his cock throbbing, y/n had managed to get through the call without making too much noise, only received a few warning glares when she moaned a little to loudly when she could feel herself on the brink of a release, knowing that she couldn’t cum, it was torture basically, the mixture of friction, Harry’s voice and knowing that he would probably he rock hard by now, but she knew that it would be worth it if she kept it up for a bit longer.

A little while later Harry was uttering goodbye’s to his team, sighing in relief as he practically slammed his computer shut, y/n was lost in pleasure , soo much that she hadn’t taken any notice that Harry had finished his call. He palmed himself to try and releave some of the building pressure in his cock, he knew that he would give into her eventually, but he was going to mess with her a little more before that.

‘Baby, come over here` she obeying like a little puppy, instantly walking towards him, becoming giddy at the thought that she might finally be getting what she wanted, more like needed.

Harry patted his thighs, signaling for her to straddle him, he could see that her panties were practically soaked through as she sat directly on his cock, making him hiss, she placed her hands on his shoulders, before Harry placed his hand on the back of her head, bringing her in for a hungry kiss, teeth clashing, thier tongues dancing with each other, the desperation making them both impossibly hornier.

Harry broke away from this kiss first, both of them gasping for air, she ran her thumb over the smooth skin of his jawline, his ringless fingers grasping at her hips.

‘Are you going to fuck me now daddy` she says out of the blue, really wanting the ache in her pussy to be dealt with.

Oh darling, didn’t think I forgot that you interrupted me whilst I was working did you, moaning whilst I was talking to my team, my friends, they could have heard you, ya know, you know daddy doesn’t like to share, dont you baby, think I need to teach you a lesson first.’

‘But I was a good girl daddy` she whimpered

‘Yes you were, still doesn’t excuse you from interrupting me though.’

She huffed ‘no baby, don’t get all huffy and puffy with me, you decided to walk into my office in your bra and panties whilst I was working, could’ve waited you know, and if you did I would be fucking you right now, but we’re here, so baby, how about you get my rings out and put them on for me, think someone deserves a spanking.

She slowly turned in his lap, reaching into the second draw in his desk to retrieve his rings, shakily placing them on thier own designated finger.

‘How many spanks do you think you should get today doll’

‘4’ she said hopefully.

‘Only four baby, best make it five then, an extra one for good look, ey.’

She rolled her eyes which Harry caught, ‘I can make it 6 if you want baby` he said gripping her chin lightly.

‘No, I’m sorry daddy’ she whimpered

‘You better be, you’re lucky that I’m even considering letting you have my cock today’

Y/n knew she had to tred carefully now, so she stood up and faced away from him, before bending over his desk, bracing herself, and willing to take whatever Harry had to offer. She secretly loved when Harry spanked her, the feeling of his hand crashing down onto her ass, his cold rings making little indents on her skin, the dominance he had over her as he marked her, she loved it and Harry did too.

Harry had stood up at this point ‘are you ready doll, want you to count each one for me.

‘Okay dad-fuck, daddy’ she squealed in surprise as his hand came crashing down, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room, his hand running over the supple flesh.

‘One’ she whimpered

*slap*

‘Two’

*slap*

‘Three’

‘Doing so good baby, only a couple more’ he smirked loving the control he had over her.

*slap*

‘Four’

*slap*

‘Five’ she cried, small tears in her eyes from the intensity, Harry marvelled over his work, as he could see what looked like two red handprints over both her ass cheeks, he smoothed over the skin lightly not wanting to cause her any more pain.

‘You okay baby’ he asked, wanting to make sure he hadn’t actually hurt her, they had already made a safe word, but he would never forgive himself if he hurt his girl.

‘Yeah, I’m okay daddy’ she sniffled slightly.

‘Think you deserve my cock now baby, took that soo well, such a good little slut for daddy aren’t you, went through all of that, just so you could get my cock.’

‘Oh I’d do anything for your cock daddy’ she says making him go wild, he instantly gripped her shoulder, making her stand up straight, before turning he around to bring her in for another heated kiss. ‘Jump’ he muttered between kisses, to which she obliged, wrapping her legs round his waist and her arms rounds his neck, practically like a koala bear.

He slowly back up to the desk again carefully laying her down not breaking the kiss, y/n being quiet relieved as the cool wood soothed her sore ass, Harry pressed himself into her, wanting to feel every inch of her body, she could also feel his hard cock dig into the side of her thigh.

She starts tugging at the end of his t-shirt, hinting for him to take his clothes off in which he happily obeyed, he had opted for no boxers today making the process even quicker, she saw the way his thick length sprang into his bare belly once he had taken his t-shirt and sweats off, throwing them not caring where they landed, the sight made her mouth water, she could see the large head of his cock was a shade of angry red leaking pre-cum, and the large protruding purple vein on the underside of his cock, which she couldn’t wait to feel against her walls.

Harry then wastes no time in ripping her underwear off of her, her juices now coating the inside of her thighs, she looked delicious and Harry could resist having a taste, so he dipped his head down, holding her legs apart, licking a large stripe through her folds which made her buck her hips up into his mouth.

‘Holy fuck’ she moaned, her clit being a little sensitive, but she honestly didn’t care right now.

He continued swirling his tounge around her pussy, dipping into he weepy hole occasionally, making her squirm in his grip, he couldn’t get enough of her sweet taste, he could stay between her legs all day if he could.

‘Feels so good daddy, but I really want your cock’ she whimpered.

‘Yeah, you want my cock baby, you can have my cock’ he finishes with a kiss to her clit, before trailing sloppy kisses up her belly towards the valley of her breasts, reaching one hand beneath her to unhook her bra, in which she arched he back slightly, helping him remove the lacy fabric, once she was completely bare beneath him, he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, swirling his tounge around the pebbled nub, doing the same to the other. He eventually made his way back to her lips, after leaving multiple hickeys on her collar bones and neck, marking her as his ‘you’re so beautiful darling’

He put his hand on either side of her head, her hands roaming over his beautifully inked arms, tracing over certain tattoos, making a shiver run up his spine, loving the gentleness of her fingers, ‘m’gonna fuck you now baby’ he says lining his cock up with her entrance ‘please, daddy’ she begs, he finally slips into her in one long thrust, making her arch her back and her eyes roll into the back of her head ‘Daddy Fuck..holy shit, you’re so big’ she cried feeling her walls stretch around his cock.

Harry also a groaning mess ‘so tight for me, s’like you were made for me’

He regains his composure before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting sharply into her cunt, starting to set a steady rhythm ‘not gonna last long doll’, her legs wrap around his waist, wanted him to be as close as possible, her hands find home on his back, her grip starting to make tiny red scratches, which he would later be reminded of when he took a shower.

Harry was now fucking her hard and deep, hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, the only sound in the room was skin hitting skin, the squelching sound of he pussy as he fucked her, breathy moans, and the occasional ‘daddy fuck yes’. He felt like he could burst with how good he felt, her warm, wet walls completely engulfing him, ‘who does this cunt belong to pet.’

‘You daddy, it’s all yours’ she breathes out, making him moan into her mouth as he kissed her plushy lips, her stomach flipping at the admittance.

‘Fuck baby gonna make me cum, you close, want you to cum with me’ she threw her head back at a particularly deep thrust, the pleasure becoming overwhelming ‘no baby’ he said gripping her chin, making her look at him again ‘want you to look at me when you fall apart, can you don’t that for me’

‘Yes daddy, m’so close, I’m gonna cum round your cock, so hard’ she whimpered

‘Oh baby, fuck’ her words making hit topple over the edge, his thrusts turning sloppy, ‘I’m cumming, cum with me pet. At this command her limbs turned limp, her head spinning, toes curling, screaming ‘daddy’ like it was the only word she knew, she didn’t think she had cum that hard in her life, Harry painting her walls, his release starting to leak out of her weepy hole, he eventually collapsed on top of her, still maintaining eye contact with her, trying to hold his weight up with his hand, so that he wouldn’t squash her. Harry hadn’t stopped thrusting into her to merely ride out thier highs, basking in both of thier releases, her cunt fluttering round his cock, milking it dry, he rested his head on hers, kissing her softly.

She tried pushing him away after a while when here muscles started spasming, in which he instantly stilled inside her, not wanting her to black out or anything. ‘You good baby, did soo well for me’

‘Don’t think I’ve cum that hard in my life’ she whispered hoarsely, her voice sore from screaming.

‘came hard too baby, can’t get enough of your cunt, m’gonna pull out now, hold my hand might sting a little’

She gripped into his hand, he slowly slipped out of her making her whimper at the loss of contact, starting on feel his cum drip down her thighs, Harry groaning at the sight, ‘looks so pretty with my cum dripping out of you’ he said leaving a soft kiss to her clit ‘can you stand baby’

‘cant feel my legs H’ she smirked knowing that this was fuelling his ego, a lazy smile spreading over her face, slowly starting to slip out of her subspace

He chuckled with her, ‘well I was thinkin’, how about we get cleaned up and take a nice hot bath, and then we can put a film on and cuddle.’

‘Mhmmm’ she hummed ‘that’s sounds perfect’

‘Wait, do you still have meetings’

‘No baby, that was the last one’ he smiled

‘Yayyyy’ she cheered her head still slightly fuzzy

He reached his hands out for her to grab so that she could sit up, hissing as all of her weight went onto her still very sore bum, that she would be reminded about for days to come.

‘We’ll get you an ice- pack as well darling’ he smirked

She managed to stand up on very shaky legs, falling into his bare chest, his arms wrapping round her so that she wouldn’t fall, kissing the top of her head ‘are you going to interrupt me whilst I’m working again baby’

‘Oh definitely daddy’ she whispered into his warm chest!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles smut imagine #harry styles hot #but daddy i love him #hs fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles is an angel #hazza styles #harold #hs1 #fine line #daddy!harry #work from home #dom!harry #harry smut

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