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#we love Alfred in this household
the-purple-possum · 3 months
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You know something?
I want to headcanon that Bruce has spent so much time around Alfred that he accidentally uses British insults and terminology.
For instance, he's at a gala, hes having a conversation, and the person says something so infuriating that he calls them a Pillock, and since its America, everyone just stops and looks very confused.
Dick finds this hillarious, until he starts doing it too. He'll accidentally ask someone for a 'rubber' and everyone looks horrorfied.
Tim has learnt from Dick's mistakes, he phases out the English terms, except every now and then he says a word with a very posh English accent. Mostly words he's heard Alfred say a lot, such as 'dinner', and he has to stop and resound that word until it sounds right.
Jason on the other hand, he comes back to Dick slipping all over the place, he finds it hillarious, especially as he tried to fight Nightwing, and out of nowhere he hears the word 'twat'. He can't take it seriously. He doesn't even know where Dick heard it, especially as Alfred never swears.
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kingdowager · 2 years
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been thinking about wfa and the hush movie and also the batman 2022
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girlscience · 3 months
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ALFRED AND REGGIE HAVE A HANNIBAL AND WILL MIZUMONO MOMENT????!!!!!??
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??
anyway
Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”
“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*
“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks
"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.
Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.
"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"
Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."
"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.
How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?
"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"
Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."
Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."
Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.
And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.
The perfect heir.
It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.
"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."
"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"
"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."
"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.
The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.
"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.
He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."
"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.
"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.
Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.
It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.
"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.
"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.
"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"
"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.
A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.
He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"
"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."
"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.
"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"
"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.
Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.
"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.
Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.
"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.
His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 2 months
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Finally Getting Help (prt 8)
Masterpost
The next day was less chaotic but not by much. They had to go through everything they’d taken from the Fenton’s lab, and reluctantly accepted Danny and Jazz’s help with the task because they were familiar with the tech. That was surprisingly needed since all of their gadgets were extremely obtuse and looked like household appliances. It was honestly surprising how good Danny was with all of this stuff, he knew what everything was, how to take it apart and how to put it back together to show the heroes how it worked. 
“They don’t all work for humans. Some have to be fueled with ectoplasm so they need to be constantly refueled. Dad used to wear a backpack full of the stuff ghost busters style but that’s really not practical so this one isn’t very useful to you. I can use it though,” Danny said as he screwed the last part back on the.. Whatever it was. 
“Okay, but why does it look like a blender?” Tim asked, baffled and impressed.
“Oh that’s because that’s what it was built out of,” Danny said with a crooked smile. “We repurposed a lot of household items into tech. Give me a couple toasters and a microwave and I’ll have three specter deflectors ready for you before dinner time.” He said as he pressed his hand against one of the gins and it started glowing intently green.
“Here don’t drop it,” He said tossing it to Batman, who did manage to catch it. “I fueled it with three shots, just in case Vlad shows up or another ghosts threatens you. And actually even with your charms I would feel a lot better if you all had specter deflectors since you’re all involved with me now,” He sighed and rubbed his face. 
“Well… we can get you toasters and a microwave but we can also get you more advanced parts if those will work better,” Bruce told Danny, gingerly holding the odd gun away from himself. It wasn’t a traditional gun so it wasn’t upsetting but he still didn’t like it. 
Danny looked very tempted but he shook his head. “No I’d better do it with what I know, I can get it done faster that way and they work. I’d love to play with some of those more advanced parts though. I’m sure I can come with some fun stuff.” 
Uh oh, Bruce didn’t like that look on Tim’s face, the last thing he needed was more encouragement! But Danny was the child of mad scientists, he would get along perfectly with Tim, Bruce was going to have to keep a close eye on them to make sure they didn’t accidentally make a death ray. 
“You can join me in my lab later,” Tim offered hopefully and Danny glanced up at him with a borderline feral grin. 
“That sounds great, I’m sure you have much better lab safety than my parents. Love engineering, would hate to die a second time.” He said it like a joke, just the way Jason tended to. Jazz laughed, but only to encourage her brother’s coping method, no one else did. 
“Alright, we’ll go to the nearest home appliance store and get you some toasters and microwaves,” Bruce said. 
“Hell ya, I should have been adopted by a rich family years ago,” Danny cackled. Oh dear, he’d been so traumatized yesterday Bruce hadn’t realized he was Feral. Why did this keep happening.
He informed Alfred of Danny’s request and by the time they finished going over the more confusing inventions and left for lunch the appliances were waiting for Danny in the lab that he and Tim would apparently now be sharing. Danny immediately dove on the machinery starting to take them apart with practiced hands. He seemed calm and in his element but Tim stayed to supervise, both just in case something went wrong, and because it was His lab and they hadn’t talked about rules of cohabitation yet.
Bruce left them to it. Alfred had informed him that Jason had arrived and headed straight to the kitchen without saying hello to anyone else. It wasn’t a surprise, he was closest to Alfred, he’s want to help with making dinner, and get the basic scoop from his most trusted family member before having to face anyone else. Bruce knew better than to intrude on that, but God did he want to. 
Regardless of what his children thought Bruce cared deeply for all of them, and he hated that sometimes they doubted it. He wished he was better at telling and showing them, but he’d managed to convince himself it was too late for him to change so he didn’t have to face the years of mistakes and trauma he had endured and inflicted. No matter what what image he tried to project, he was still only human.
He went to his office, but he couldn’t settle to anything, he did a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and just ended up pacing the carpeted floor. He left them alone as long as he could before he gave in and went down to the kitchen.
“Sorry to interrupt, I just needed a cup of coffee,” He said as casually as he could. The looks Alfred and Jason gave him said neither of them actually believed his excuse, which was fair. “It’s good to see you Jaylad, thanks for coming.”
“Well I’m not going to miss out on a new brother am I? You gonna have this one running around in spandex too B?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, it made Bruce wince but it Was progress because he was acknowledging their familial ties. 
“I’m almost two years too late to stop him,” Bruce said regretfully. “It’s been… a lot has happened. I’m sure Alfred caught you up on most of it, but I’d like to talk to you before you meet either of the siblings.”
“Trying to make sure I won’t be a bad influence?” Jason asked and Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or accusing. 
“No, nothing like that,” Bruce said, holding up his hands. “I just want to talk.”
Jason hummed skeptically, scrutinizing Bruce before turning back towards Alfred. “What do you think Alfie, can you spare me?”
“I always appreciate your help master Jason, but I can manage on my own,” Alfred assured, sounding amused. 
“Alright, to your office then?” Jason asked, turning back towards Bruce. 
“Or the sitting room, whichever would be more comfortable.”
“Office,” Jason said firmly, this was the distance that he was keeping between them. They worked together now, and Jason cared for his siblings, but he kept them all at arms length. For everyone’s safety really, if they set him off he didn’t want to hurt them, and he didn’t want to be set off either. It always felt like shit. Jason followed Bruce to the office and sprawled in the soft chair across the desk from Bruce’s. He remembered being a kid, sitting properly and nervously in this chair across from Bruce hoping desperately for his approval. How times change.
“I just wanted to talk to you about the new kids” Bruce started and Jason waved him away.
“I’m really not going to corrupt them or anything, I Probably won’t be around enough to make a difference anyway.” Jason said dismissively.
Bruce took a deep breath, controlling his expression and folding his hands on the table. “That’s not it Jaylad, Alfred must have told you that the boy died and came back?” 
Jason tensed and green swirled in his vision, it was the same thing that Bruce had seen in Danny when Zatana asked about Phantom. “Ya he did.” Defensive and insecure.
“It seems like he, and his sister who was sort of a caretaker to him, know a lot more than we do about the effect that that has on a person. To help us take care of Danny she gave us a presentation about it, it… makes a lot of sense. You should probably talk to her and Danny about it really but I just wanted to apologize. 
“I’ve been trying to fix this, fix… you for a long time and I know I’ve been going about it wrong and I’ve been hurting you.”
“You got a new treatment plan in mind, old man?” Jason asked, his arms crossed and Bruce wished that mistrust wasn’t earned. 
“No,” Bruce sighed looking down. “Really Jason I don’t, I know I was wrong. This is something I just didn’t know I didn’t know about,” He hated his own ignorance, he hated to admit it! He was Batman! The way he kept up with other superheroes was always being prepared for everything and knowing more than everyone around him, but he hadn’t even known there was something there to know!
“This isn’t about that, and it’s not about you staying away from the new kids. Exactly the opposite actually, since they know more about this, and Danny might be one of the few people who really understands what it’s like to die and come back like that, I was hoping you’d spend more time here, around them. I think it might help you both.”
“Huh,” Jason sounded, blinking rapidly because that was the most sincere apology he’d gotten from Bruce and he didn’t quite know how to react to it. “Maybe… maybe.” He hadn’t met the new siblings yet after all, maybe they’d hate each other. 
“Can I meet them now?” He asked looking back up at Bruce curiously. 
“Of course, the girl's name is Jasmine Fenton, called Jazz, the boy goes by Danny. Jazz is turning 18 soon, Danny is 16.” 
Right Tim had mentioned that, so Danny was about 3 years younger than him then. That shouldn’t matter too much, and maybe Tim will be right about the sister and can tease Jason about it. He’d been single for a while and wouldn’t mind changing that.
“Of course, I think you should meet Jazz first, she’s protective of Danny and she hasn’t been very involved in all of this. I think she’d feel better being allowed to… vet you first for lack of a better word. Are you okay with that?” Bruce asked Jason politely. 
“Sure, I don’t really care what order I meet them in and… Look Bruce I know I’m mad at you, and I was really hard on Timmy when everything was still raw. But I’m never going to knowingly hurt a kid, or make life harder for them. If I can help them I will,” Jason said sincerely. 
“Jason, the girl is less than a year younger than you. You’re a kid too,” Bruce said sadly. Jason froze for a moment, Yes he was 19, his mind wasn’t fully developed yet or whatever the hell, but he hadn’t felt like a kid since his death. Even before that, the responsibility for his mother, and then the work as a hero. Bruce wanted soldiers, Jason had never gotten a chance to be a kid really.
“Whatever,” Jason scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets and standing up, closing himself off from that sincerity. “Do you know where she is?”
“She’s in the library,” Bruce said, his lips twitching up in a smile. “She loves books almost as much as you did, though she seems to be more drawn to non-fiction.” 
Jason hummed and nodded, heading towards the door since he knew his own damn way to the library, Bruce didn’t have to lead! He did follow through, he was clearly protective of these kids so of course he would want to be there when Jason met them.
When he entered the library he saw a young woman sitting at one of the tables with some sort of text book. Her back was straight and her legs tucked under the chair with her ankles crossed. It looked like she was self consciously trying to look put together. She looked up at them, blue green eyes looking him over critically, he could practically see her picking him apart in her mind and he tried not to fidget.
“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jason Todd,” He said, walking over and offering her his hand to shake. She was very pretty, but he was surprised by his own complete lack of attraction, she just didn’t register that way, she seemed more… maternal almost.
“Ah, the dead son,” She chuckled, getting up from the table and reaching out to shake his hand, her grip was strong and her hands were soft and cool. “It’s nice to meet you, they mentioned you. Nothing bad,” She added when she saw her face. “And I don’t mean to be rude, I know some people are sensitive about their deaths being mentioned. Danny jokes about it all the time so… I just wanted to let you know that I know, and I accept you.” Jazz said with a warm smile. 
Her easy acceptance caught him off guard and before he could help it he was baring his teeth at her in a snarl, defensive and probing, did she mean it? She grinned sharper bearing sharp fangs at him in a matching sign of… friendly aggression, something inside him settled. He chuckled and took a step back. “Well thanks, nice to meet someone who doesn’t look like they bit a lemon every time I make a death joke.”
“It’s your death, as long as it’s healthy you can own that however comes naturally to you,” Jazz promised, sitting back down at the desk. “I’d love to talk more and get to know you, but we can do that later. You really should meet Danny.”
“You don’t want to come with us,” Bruce broke in, sounding worried. Jason had almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t realized how… all encompassing the short interaction had been.
“I’ll probably follow,” Jazz said with a shrug, her gaze turning stern as she looked at Bruce. “Remember what I said about never breaking up a fight,” She told him firmly. 
Well if that didn’t make Jason nervous he didn’t know what did. Why would he fight with Danny? Would Danny fight with him? Why? “You really think it’s a good idea for us to meet? Why would we fight?” Jason asked her sharply.
“Of course,” she agreed, her eyes softening as she looked back at him, though her expression remained a little mischievous. “It’ll be good for both of you.”
Next
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gurugirl · 3 months
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Can We Start Over | Ch. 5 The Coincidence
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 5. Summary: Things have changed for you and Harry but when you see him at a meeting, you are taken by surprise. It feels like destiny. Maybe this time things will work out for you two.
A/N: This is the final part to this series! Thank you everyone who stuck with the story and gave it a shot! Appreciate all the love!
Word Count: 12.7k
Warning: 18+ only, angst, smut, fluff
Can We Start Over? masterlist
Mr. Allen was on the phone again. He’d called you into his office but the moment you stepped in he got a call and told you to sit and wait. That it would only be a minute.
And it was only a minute. But then he got another call and now it was 23 minutes later while he was still yammering about some person who was just the worst.
You were used to it, though. Mr. Allen was retired so nothing was a rush for him anymore. Which also meant he held other people up. But waiting for your boss was the least of your worries.
His wife and her ever-changing personality was your biggest concern. She was, to put it mildly, a monster. And to make matters worse, she ran the whole household so you were often seeking her out for things. Mrs. Allen also handled her husband’s schedule and if he was running behind guess who got the blame. That’s right. You did. Every time.
And it was the same thing over and over again. You started your day trying to keep Mr. Allen up to task, failed, got reprimanded and degraded by a nasty human, held back tears and then took a long drive with loud music to clear your head with a quick stop for dinner, probably at a drive-through.
Needless to say, you were already planning on quitting. You’d gotten really lucky with Alfred. And even working with Harry hadn’t been as bad as it was working for Mrs. Allen and her husband. But you tried not to think about Harry if you could help it.
By the time Mr. Allen got off the phone he was running late for his physical therapy appointment. You got him moving along quickly and sent him on his way but not before Mrs. Allen started poking around and making comments under her breath.
“What was that?” You turned to look behind yourself at the wicked witch as she stood near the edge of the foyer.
“He’s late again.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“That is correct.”
She rolled her eyes, “What’s the point of having a personal assistant who can’t even keep the boss on schedule?”
You smiled, holding back your true thoughts, “Well, being as my job description doesn’t entail using physical force on the boss, which is what it would take to get Mr. Allen to keep on time for anything, I’m certain you’ll find that once again, this isn’t my responsibility.”
“Lazy,” she spoke under her breath.
You tilted your head and squinted your eyes at her, “That’s the last thing I am. Now, if you don’t mind, my workday is over. Have a good evening.”
You walked past her to go into your room to pack up your laptop and leave. You’d stay at your own place that night. You hated staying at the Allen’s house. Not only was the room they’d given you a tiny spec of a thing with no windows, no closet, and not even a single rug to cover the cold tile floors but being anywhere near Mrs. Allen made your skin crawl.
“I don’t know why we bother with the room for you,” she was standing in the doorway when you turned around.
“You really didn’t bother much with the room in the first place. That’s why I don’t stay here. My house has a better bed with a big window looking into my backyard. I just feel better in my own bed at night.”
You walked past her and held your breath so as not to inhale her disgusting, pungent perfume. You used to like the scent she wore. But now you loathed it. Whenever you smelled it, even on another woman, it made you queasy. You very much did not like Mrs. Allen.
You turned up the volume on your car radio the moment your front tires hit the road. You always looked forward to going home after work. This day wasn’t as bad as you’d had before and tomorrow you’d do it all over again.
And instead of stopping at a drive-through for fast food, you decided you’d stop at the grocery store and pick up ingredients to actually make something fresh.
Typically you didn’t cook. You didn’t have time for it. Picking up groceries would put you home at almost 8 pm. And then you still needed to cook so you wouldn’t be eating until close to 9 and then you could finally relax with a glass of wine and a good book or something trashy on television. Which was why drive-throughs were your go-to dinner plans. It meant you were home by 7:30 and dinner was already cooked. Not the best use of money and certainly not the healthiest way to live but you wouldn’t be doing it much longer.
You had a meeting to attend with Mr. and Mrs. Allen the following week that piqued your interest. It was for a piece of art that they’d been looking for. And someone found it for them. From an art dealer who was not too far away. You didn’t know for sure but you had a feeling. And you wanted to find out if that feeling was right.
Maybe you were a masochist and just wanted to pour salt onto the wound of your split open heart one more time. Or maybe you did have some hope that it was Harry and that maybe you could try and receive his feelings for you once and for all.
But it’d been just over 9 months since you’d seen him and you were sure he’d moved on by now. There would be no reason for him to still be pining over you the way you were over him. And what were the chances that it was him in the first place? You didn’t know but you needed to find out.
Yeah. You regretted what you’d done. Pushing him away like that. But once you’d done it, it felt like it was too late to go back. Maybe it was your pride. Or that little voice in the back of your head that told you men always leave and they always lie. That anyone that might love you would probably just disappoint you in the end.
But now you were in therapy and talking to someone opened your eyes to your self-sabotaging ways. You had been certain that the way you felt couldn’t be helped. That you were a prisoner to your trauma and all the hurt and that it was for the best. You’d been wrong, though. You could help the way you processed feelings and the way you responded when things got hard. You didn’t have to push away the notion that a man could love you or keep running away from your problems.
After picking up ingredients to make a nice little dinner for yourself you arrived at your cute house.
You loved the place. Loved the neighborhood. You found it a few weeks after you told Harry to leave your apartment. It wasn’t that far from your old place but you felt like it was good enough for a new start. At the time, you were ready to take the plunge. To move on. It was just a rental but it felt like your own place.
Though, not long after moving in you started feeling like getting rid of every trace of Harry had been a bad idea. You missed him. However, you didn’t recognize how you were feeling for him until you began therapy. The more you spoke honestly about everything and without any judgment, you began to peel off layers of yourself that you had unconsciously piled on to protect yourself. But that only wound up making things worse.
And one night, almost six months since you’d seen him, you decided to drive past his big, gated home. You still had the fob to his entry but of course, you wouldn’t use it. You only wanted to just drive past. To your surprise, there was a For Sale sign stuck in the grass in front of the gate.
You parked across from the house and tried to see if there was anything that indicated he’d actually moved out but seeing inside was impossible. You could see the top level of the house and that was really it.
The sinking feeling in your chest that you’d probably never see him again started to settle over you slowly. You’d moved away and blocked him from everything and then deleted his contact and now he was no longer living in the only place you knew where he might be. He was gone.
But then when you helped set up the meeting with the art dealer there was the smallest tinge of hope there. You felt like this might be your last chance. You had just been about to quit when Mrs. Allen gave you the number to an assistant of a dealer who had access to a painting they wanted. You never learned the name of the art dealer, only of the assistant who worked for them.
So you’d stick it out until after the meeting and then you’d give up your hope for ever seeing Harry again if it wasn’t him. And you’d also quit your job once and for all.
Of course, it’s not him. Don’t get your hopes up.
You had to remind yourself of that over and over again. The chances were slim that you would actually be seeing Harry.
Either way, you were looking forward to that meeting. Even if it wasn’t Harry, you’d be free of Mr. and Mrs. Allen once and for all after you quit.
But the days dragged on slowly. The only thing that was good about the time that led up to the meeting was the little secret that you were quitting. It was something you were excited about.
The morning of the meeting you woke up well before your alarm went off. You’d been unable to fall back asleep as you remembered the last time you and Harry slept together. The words he spoke to you that night haunted you every day since, “Want to make you feel so good. Want to make you smile, Y/n. Want to make you happy.”
You sighed. You hoped it was him at the meeting. You hoped there was still some way to salvage what you’d done. Hoped there was still something there. If it was him, that is.
Your entire morning routine had turned into a spa event. You turned on your coffee pot and then got into the shower, getting yourself ready for the possibility of anything and everything. You had selected your outfit days prior and put on a full face of makeup. You were going to look your absolute best.
And no matter what the outcome of the meeting was, today was a good day. Because at the end of it, you’d be a free woman. You’d never again step foot in the Allen house. You took all of your belongings from the spec of a bedroom over a few days so no one would notice. You rarely stayed over anyway so it wasn’t like you needed to keep much there in the first place.
You had a taxi take you to the Allen’s on that day. Because your plan was to quit the moment the painting was purchased and you weren’t going to be going back to their house with them after the meeting just to get your car. You’d get a taxi home. It was quite dramatic but you couldn’t wait to quit. Couldn’t wait to tell Mrs. Allen you were done and then walk off. Only a few more hours.
When you arrived at the Allen’s your first stop was the kitchen to make Mr. Allen’s coffee (skim milk and stevia) and Mrs. Allen’s chai green tea with raw honey. This was always the best part of your day. Things were usually quiet, Mrs. Allen wasn’t raging just yet, and the morning light that came into their gorgeous kitchen felt peaceful. While the coffee was perking you brought Mrs. Allen her tea drink where you knew you’d find her and placed it down on its coaster next to her. As usual, she did not acknowledge your existence or even say thank you.
Mr. Allen was always cordial, however.
“Morning Mr. Allen. Here’s your coffee.”
“Thank you, Y/n. Have you seen my wife this morning?”
You smiled and stood next to his desk, “I just gave her some tea. Why?”
“I think she wanted to make sure we had wire information set up to pay for the painting today. She’s very set on making the purchase. Can you double-check we have everything we need?”
“I’m certain we have everything we need but I’ll definitely do a quick check.”
As you suspected, everything was ready to go. When you confirmed as much you went to find Mrs. Allen to tell her.
“Mr. Allen told me you wanted to make sure the wire instructions were ready and I just wanted to let you know that we’ve got everything we need and it’s all ready to go for when it comes time to pay.”
“Good. Now,” she turned to look at you, “this is a meeting we cannot be late for so I’d appreciate it if you could have everything ready for us so there are no delays. I don’t want any excuses.”
You nodded, stifling the small laugh before it could make it out of your mouth, “Of course, Mrs. Allen.”
But as always, Mr. Allen was dawdling. You did remind him of the meeting but he assured you he was going to be on time. He wasn’t. You weren’t surprised.
When it was time to leave he was still in his office in his slippers on his third cup of coffee talking to his brother about sports.
“I told you this is a meeting we cannot be late for. This is unacceptable!” Mrs. Allen was red in the face as she barked at you. Somehow, she always seemed shocked when her husband held things up. You didn’t know how it was possible that she was so surprised.
You blinked your eyes and sighed, “He doesn’t need to be at the meeting with us. I say we just go. He’ll be fine here by himself.”
She nodded and mumbled under her breath about your incompetence, “Tell him we’re leaving without him. I’m going to get the driver to pull the car around.”
You poked your head into the office and waved at Mr. Allen and he pulled the phone from his ear to look at you with his brows raised. As if he didn’t know what was going on.
“We’re going to leave now for the painting. You can stay behind. No need for you to be there. Okay?”
He smiled at you and nodded before getting back to his call. You knew he didn’t care. This painting wasn’t for him. It was for Mrs. Allen. It was something she’d been wanting. She’d just hang it up alongside the rest of her collection of exotic animal paintings and artwork.
The car ride was silent. Which you preferred. You tried not speaking to Mrs. Allen when you could help it. Luckily she wasn’t interested in having a conversation with you.
And 30 minutes later when you arrived, your mind was swirling with thoughts of what could happen and what probably wouldn’t.
Your nerves were all over the place. If you were about to walk into a room with Harry Styles, being nervous was warranted. You hadn’t seen his handsome face in so long and wanted so badly for it to be him.
It was unlikely. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. No reason to get your hopes up.
You and Mrs. Allen got out of the car once the driver had let you both out at the front.
It was a public gallery so everyone could just walk in to admire the art. You noticed there were people inside looking at the sculptures and paintings as you followed behind Mrs. Allen toward the desk at the side of the room where a young woman sat.
“Hi. I’m Delia Allen here for a meeting to view the Ghaui piece.”
The young woman smiled widely, “Yes. Of course! Just follow me. We have it moved into a special viewing room just for you.”
If there was ever a moment in your life where you thought that one small step toward a physical room could forever change your life, it was this. What if he was there? What if he wasn’t?
The gallery wasn’t a large space but there were temporary walls placed around the room to act as dividers and a spot for more art to hang. You wove around the walls and into a hallway where the young woman stepped into a room with Mrs. Allen just behind her. You paused for a moment before stepping inside. This was it. It either was or it wasn’t.
Placing your hand on the frame of the door and taking a deep breath you breached the space to enter the viewing room and found that there was no one else inside. It was the painting that Mrs. Allen had been so keen on buying, hung up with lights aimed at it, a table and chairs.
You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t this. You imagined someone would be inside the room waiting for you.
“The dealer will be right in. He’s finishing up something with someone else. Five minutes tops.”
The painting was of elephants in an African wildlife scene. It wasn’t your taste but you had to respect Mrs. Allen for her interests. If there was anything about her you could say you liked, it was her love of animals and how much support she’d given African wildlife sanctuaries. She’d also gone on many safaris (without Mr. Allen you learned) and helped fund conservation parks that helped employ people and protect the land and animals. Honestly, when you found out this was her thing you felt like you were looking at a different woman.
She was still a bitch, though.
“I thought this meeting was set up and ready to go, Y/n,” she turned to look at you. As if somehow the dealer running late was your fault.
“It is set and ready. The girl said the dealer would be right in. We just need to wait a couple of minutes.”
You didn’t look at her face as you responded. You were done looking at her face. After this meeting, you’d never have to look at it again.
“Sergi could’ve come if I knew this was going to happen.”
You rolled your eyes, back facing her as you looked over the lines and the paint on the canvas. It was a well-done piece of art.
When the door opened only a moment later you felt your heart stop for a split second, a chill ran down your face, over your shoulders, and through your spine as you slowly turned around when Mrs. Allen spoke, “Finally.”
Your vision grew spotty, like tiny particles floating around and mixing up the scene before you. Fuzzy like a grey screen on a television. You blinked your eyes to clear your sight as you looked at him for the first time in over 9 months. It was him.
And his reaction to you appeared much the same, with him pausing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyes wide.
“Hello? Are you the dealer?” Mrs. Allen was great at ruining a moment.
Harry’s eyes blinked as he shook his head and finally peeled his sight from you to look at the other woman in the room. He cleared his throat, closing the door behind himself, and stepped forward to Mrs. Allen with his hand out, “Yes. I’m the dealer. Harry Styles,” he shook her hand and then shot his eyes back to you, taking in your outfit quickly before moving toward you, his hand outstretched in silence.
You hadn’t moved from your spot next to the painting. You hadn’t closed your mouth or peeped a single word because you couldn’t. And even though you had a feeling that it was him before the meeting ever took place, the surprise and shock you felt was overwhelming.
It was really him. It was Harry. And you couldn’t believe it was him.
You placed your hand in his to shake and the moment was eternity. Your eyes pinned together, palms warm to the touch, searching gazes, and a million little thoughts dancing around your heads. It was real. He was real. You were real. The moment was real.
But of course, as Mrs. Allen tended to do she interrupted the odd reunion and began speaking, “Please go over the details with me. I think I’d like to know a little more and then we can talk price.”
Harry’s adam’s apple bobbed as he released your hand and straightened his posture and he handed a folder to Mrs. Allen and began to go over everything she might want to know.
Your heart was racing and you were unable to listen to anything he said regarding the painting. It all sounded like gibberish to you but you could hear his smooth deep voice as he spoke, and the occasional glance in your direction had your skin sparking in delight.
“Earth to Y/n,” Mrs. Allen waved her hand in front of your face and you slowly drifted from your reverie back to reality and looked at her.
“Jesus, it’s like herding cats with you,” she pointed, “Let’s get this part ready. Open your laptop.”
You reached into your bag and pulled out your laptop, placing it on the table so you could begin the wire payment. You looked from Mrs. Allen to Harry and then back to your screen as the bank sight loaded.
Of course, you had to log in and the internet connection wasn’t as fast as you’d have liked so Mrs. Allen let out an annoyed sigh.
“Always like this with her,” she looked at Harry with her arms crossed, “Slow. Lazy–“
“Are you serious?” Harry sounded perturbed. Aghast.
You looked from him to Mrs. Allen and the look on his face matched the sound of his voice as he looked at her with disdain.
“Of course I am. You don’t know her so you have no idea what–“
“I do actually know her,” he glanced at you softening his gaze. “Don’t speak about her that way or the deal is off.”
You blinked and smiled gently as you opened up the bank wire screen.
“What? You can’t treat me like this. I’m a paying client. I will walk out of here without this painting if you dare–“
“Then leave.” He looked at her with his brows raised in a dare.
She huffed and clutched her purse, “Fine. Just… do the deal, Y/n. I’ll be right back. I need to use the restroom and get some air. When I return I want this to be over with.”
She walked out of the room and slammed the door rudely and Harry stepped in front of the computer as you looked up at him, “Y/n. I can’t believe it’s you. Are you working for her?”
You stood up straight and nodded, “Yeah. It’s a disaster. I’m quitting as soon as this is over. It’s been my plan for a month.”
He smiled, “You’re quitting? Now?”
You nodded again, “Yes. As soon as this deal is complete I’m done.”
“Can I see you? Like, after this? Dinner maybe?”
You sputtered a tiny laugh. It was like music to your ears, “Okay. Why not?”
Harry grinned widely and pointed at the computer, “Let’s get this over with then. Push that payment through and let’s get out of here.”
There it was again, the blurred vision, grey and colored specs floating around you as if you were in the grey screen of a TV. You couldn’t believe it. Perhaps it was only a dream. Perhaps you were about to wake up and it was all going to have been just a wild dream that you’d never recover from.
You called the bank with a smile on your face to begin the wire transfer. Everything was set as you entered the details into the account on your laptop and spoke with the representative.
But of course, there was one thing holding the whole thing up. Mrs. Allen had to be there to verbally give the go-ahead to the man on the phone. You were not authorized.
So when she came back to the room and the payment wasn’t yet completed she was furious, “How can you mess up the simplest things, Y/n?”
“All you need to do is tell the man this wire transfer from your bank to the owner’s is authorized. You’re holding this up. Not her,” Harry spoke.
She pulled the cell phone from you with a sigh and spoke into the receiver as you smiled at Harry.
“There. It’s done.” She handed the phone to you and the transaction was finalized. Emails went out to all the parties involved in the sale with the receipt and you closed your laptop.
“Good. Now, have someone wrap this so I can bring it back without getting scratched.”
Harry nodded, “I’ll have Laira get someone for you and they’ll bring it to your car.”
Mrs. Allen looked at you and snapped her fingers, “You can go wait in the car for me. No need to have you standing around and gawking like an idiot.”
You stuffed your laptop into your bag and looked at Mrs. Allen, “Delia?” You made it a point to call her by her first name, which you knew she hated, “I quit. Working for you has been hell. You’ll go home without me as I’ve already made other arrangements. Tell Mr. Allen it was lovely to work for him. I’ll send him an email explaining why I quit tomorrow. Also, the agency won’t work with you again after I share details and proof of the way you treated me.”
Her mouth dropped open and the look of surprise on her face was quite hilarious as you pushed passed her with Harry following behind you.
You felt exhilarated and your heart was pumping blood through your body and your limbs rapidly as you smiled and made your way to the front of the gallery.
Harry kept in step with you as he waved at the girl at the desk, “Please help Mrs. Allen get the painting wrapped and put into her car. I’m done for the day. Call me if you need anything.”
You felt the warm air hit your cheeks when you stepped outside into the sun with Harry behind you.
“Y/n, I’m still kind of in disbelief that you’re here. I must be dreaming,” he turned toward you with a wide grin.
“I feel the same way. Like I’m just going to wake up and it’s all been a dream.”
“Pinch me,” he put his arm out and pushed his shirt sleeve up to his forearm, displaying the tattoos on his skin.
You laughed and put your thumb and pointer over his skin and gave him a good pinch and he let out a deep breath, “Do it again.”
You couldn’t stop the small chuckle that fell from your lips as you pinched him again and he grabbed the tops of your arms tightly, “Y/n I’ve missed you so much. I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times. I have so much to tell you.”
“Me too, Harry. There’s so much to say.”
He led you to his car and you both got inside. It felt so surreal to be climbing into Harry’s car with him, “Where would like to go eat?” He looked at you from the driver’s seat as he started up his car.
You shook your head, “I don’t know. Don’t care really.”
He nodded, “Yeah I don’t care either. Just as long as I get to go there with you. Okay, we’ll go to this spot I found some months ago. They have great crab cakes.”
When he pulled out to the street you looked at him, “New car then?”
He nodded, “Yeah. The lease came up on the other one and figured something different would be nice. I’ve had this for a few months.”
“And did you move?”
He licked his lips and glanced at you, “Yeah. Not long after you left. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone. I… did a lot of thinking about what I want in life and how I want to live it. The place was too big. Not sustainable for me any longer. Too expensive.”
“Really? That’s surprising.”
He breathed out through his nose as he nodded, “I stopped dealing with stolen items. It was dumb of me to get involved in all that in the first place. I never started off being an art dealer with the idea that I would be wealthy. It began because I genuinely love the art world and discovering new pieces. I lost that somewhere along the way and you leaving like you did remind me of what was important in life. Money is not all there is.”
You were surprised to hear this. It made you wonder what else had changed.
The restaurant was a small, hip-looking spot. You had both arrived before the dinner crowd, it was still a bit early for dinner, but to you, it didn’t matter. You were with Harry again and even though you weren’t quite sure what to expect things were going better than you imagined.
You and Harry were seated at a small round table for two by a big window looking out over the parking lot. It wasn’t fancy but it felt amazing to get face to face with him after all that time.
“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look incredible. I know I said it already but I really missed you. I hope you and I can keep in touch after this. If that’s something you wanted. It would mean so much to me to be able to see you again.”
You picked at the corner of the laminated menu that had been placed on the table in front of you and looked up at him, “Harry, I missed you a lot too. I regretted the way I ended things. Moving away and blocking you. I thought it was the right thing to do. I deleted every part of you from my life and by the time I realized it was a mistake I didn’t have your contacts anymore,” you shook your head as you looked into his eyes, “I’m sorry I did it that way. I’m sorry for walking away from you.”
Harry reached across the table and put his hand over yours, “I’m glad you did. Y/n, I don’t know if I would have had the kind of self-reflection and epiphany I did if you’d stayed. But you leaving like that made me rethink everything I thought was important. Made me realize that dealing in the black market and jet-setting all over the world to do something that goes against my very core… I hated it. I hated you leaving but it opened my eyes.”
“So you really don’t do any of that anymore?”
He shook his head, “No. Now I bounce around from gallery to gallery to view pieces and check the legitimacy, the provenance. I work for myself still but now I’m not making as much money. Which is fine!” He laughed, dimples digging into his cheeks, “It’s better this way. I sleep better knowing I’m doing things right now.”
“Where do you live now?”
“Like twenty minutes from here. Bought a regular-sized house with a garage and an ugly entryway,” he grinned, “But I love it. I love it because it makes me feel happy. It’s not so much to maintain. Had to let go of all the staff I had but other than that, I haven’t missed the income as much as I thought I would.”
You were impressed with him. You never imagined he’d stop dealing in illegal items because you knew the money was so good.
The waiter stood at your table and you both told him what you’d like to drink. A sparkling water with lemon for you, and a hot black tea for him.
“So you were working for that woman. She’s awful. How long did you stay with her?”
You laughed and shook your head, “I worked for the Allens for just over seven months. Hated every minute of it. She only got worse as time went on. I thought once she got used to me she’d lighten up be she was truly evil. Would just talk down to me and blame me for everything that went wrong.”
“Why did you stay there for so long?”
“At first I stayed hoping it would get better. You know you kind of get into a groove and can look past bullshit and then everyone starts to get used to one another. But that never happened. I tried to stick it out. But then of course I needed the money too. Well, on some level. The security of having a job is nice and the rent at my new house is a lot more than what I paid at my apartment. Figured I’d wait for the right moment. Then about a month ago I found out that Delia wanted to buy this piece of art she’d been wanting and she was going to go through a dealer and I was just about to quit. I really was but,” you shrugged and smiled as you looked down at the menu, “Though it would be funny if maybe you were the dealer,” you brought your eyes back up to him.
He squinted, his brows pulling in as he looked at you, “You continued working for them when you thought maybe I was going to be the dealer on the sale? So you could see me?”
You nodded and smiled, “I mean. Sort of. I really didn’t think it was going to be you but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to just see. So I stuck it out. My plan was to quit the moment the deal was over. That’s why I was saying that at the gallery. It was like, one last thing, just to see if it was you and then I was done working for them.”
Harry laughed and pulled his lips into his mouth, shaking his head in amazement, “I can’t believe you wanted to see me. I was certain you were done and wanted nothing to do with me. I did go back to your apartment one day, maybe like two months later. But you’d already moved out. And you never responded to any of my texts or calls. Figured that was that. What made you want to see me?”
You tried not to feel bad how you ended things with him but it was hard not to, “I really did like you. It was just hard for me to admit how much. And then Brandy, my best friend, talked me into going to therapy. And honestly? Just talking about how I process things and my emotions with someone else helped me a ton. Helped me see how I self-sabotage. Anything that might make me happy, specifically romance, was a big block for me. I didn’t even realize it consciously. I think I knew I pushed people away when I didn’t need to. And I realized I did that with you.”
Harry nodded as he listened and the waiter placed your drinks down on the table before taking your orders for food.
It felt like you had so much to tell him and you could see Harry felt the same with everything he admitted to you. You loved listening to him and watching him as he spoke or the way he gazed at you as you recounted the last 9 months to him.
While so much did happen in those 9 months, you felt comfortable sitting at that small table talking to Harry about it all. Everything felt so familiar and nice with him. It felt like you were both exactly on the same page and this time around maybe you could really have something special with him. If he wanted the same thing as you.
“So you missed me? What did you miss about me?” Harry smirked at you as he took a scoop of the dessert you were both sharing.
“Hmm… I think I liked it when you were nice to me and vulnerable with me. Our late-night kitchen chats. How you took up for me with that one lady. And even today you did it again with Mrs. Allen. I think there were times when I hated you but mostly I liked you. And those things I missed.”
His smirk didn’t fall from his lips and it looked like he was holding back what he wanted to say.
“What? What’s that look?” You pointed your fork at him.
Harry laughed and looked down at the table before putting his eyes back on yours, “You didn’t miss… like my body or something?”
You laughed and grinned at him, “Oh my god, Harry,” you rolled your eyes and shook your head.
“I mean you have to admit, Y/n, we are very good together. Aren’t we? Like… just fit so well me and you.”
You inhaled and let your eyes trail over his features as you tried to keep the grin off your face.
“You’re insane.” You licked your lips.
“No, I’m not. You know it’s true. Tell me you’ve had better with anyone else and I’ll tell you you’re lying. You missed me but you also missed all those dirty little things I did to you.”
“You’re way too confident and cocky still,” you laughed.
“Am I?” His smile was something that always got you. The grin, the dimples, the crinkles at the edge of his eyes.
“What do you want me to say, Harry? That I missed little Styles down there?” You sputtered a laugh.
“Little? Is that what you’d call it?” He placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward closer to you, “You said otherwise when–“
“Anything else for you two?” The waiter broke the tension as Harry shot his eyes up to the man.
“I think we’ll take the check. Thank you.”
You laughed as the server walked away and Harry cocked his head with that smirk still plastered on his face.
The sun was beginning to go down as the check was laid on the table and you insisted on splitting it with Harry. He grumped about you paying anything at all but you weren’t taking no for an answer.
You were surprised you’d been at the restaurant for so long. Hours had gone by but it didn’t feel that long because you two had so much to talk about. So much lost time to make up for.
“So where do you live, Y/n? Should I drop you off at home?”
You bit your lip and shrugged, “Not too far from here. Off Coalfax and the interstate. Do you want to drop me off?”
Harry’s smile softened, “I don’t want to drop you off. No. I want to continue this. I’m not ready for you to disappear again.”
Swallowing you reached your hand toward his and rubbed your fingers over his knuckles, “Then you don’t have to drop me off. Come with me. I’ll invite you in.”
Harry stood up quickly, taking your hand in his as you both walked to the exit and toward his car. You laughed as he pulled you along.
“Coalfax? Just North of here?” He spoke as he started up his car.
“Yeah. Exactly. You’ll take a right on Coalfax. I’ll tell you where to go.”
Harry kept glancing at you and the smile on his face stayed throughout the entire drive. You were sure he was feeling the kind of excitement you had bubbling in your tummy. Still not quite sure of what to expect but nearly certain of what could happen.
Maybe you were jumping in too fast but maybe… just maybe the timing was exactly right. You couldn’t tell but you weren’t going to let yourself overthink it. That wasn’t going to happen with you anymore. You already regretted too much of what had happened with Harry and this time would be different.
Harry parked his car on the street in front of your small house and you both walked up to your door, “You’ve still got the same car,” he noted.
“Yup. Runs well. No payment other than insurance. Cheap maintenance. I love the old thing. Hope I never have to get rid of it.”
Harry followed behind you through your front door and you switched on the light before you felt his hand tugging at yours.
You turned to face him and the reality of everything was clear suddenly. You’d reconnected with Harry. The one man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Couldn’t stop replaying his words to you, couldn’t stop imagining the way he kissed you and took care of you.
“I can’t believe you’re standing here in my living room,” you smiled at him and Harry shook his head.
“I can’t believe I’m here either. I can’t believe I’m looking at you and that you were there today and…” he swallowed as he squeezed your hand, “I don’t want to scare you off, Y/n, but you have no idea how happy I am right now. How this all feels like destiny. Like we were meant to be here right now.”
You laughed through your nose, “I don’t really believe in stuff like that, but it doesn’t kind of feel that way, doesn’t it? Like another chance.”
He nodded, “Another chance. Exactly.”
“Do you want to sit? Or would you like some wine?”
Harry looked around the space of your living room. He hadn’t taken his surroundings in until then as he was too focused on you.
“Maybe a glass of wine. If it’s not too much trouble.”
You grinned, “Of course it’s not. Come. It’s in the kitchen.”
The light flickered on overhead as you flipped the switch and then opened your cabinet to retrieve the bottle of wine and two glasses.
“Y/n, this place is really nice. I like it.” Harry looked around as he spoke.
“I like it too. It’s why I moved here. Felt like home when I walked in to view it for the first time. It’s just a rental but it’s perfect for me.”
You placed the bottle on the counter and handed him a glass of wine.
Harry held his glass up, “Thank you for inviting me in and for humoring me with your kindness.”
You laughed, “Humoring you? Harry, I am fully genuine right now. I wanted to have dinner with you and I wanted you to come into my home. I’m not just being nice. I want you here.”
“I like hearing that.”
You both took a sip of your wine as Harry kept his eyes on you.
It was warm. Searing hot in fact. Harry was gorgeous and he was in your house and he was looking at you with those green eyes that had looked at you so many times before.
“Have you…” He paused as he placed his glass down and cleared his throat, “Have you seen anyone since? Like dated? Are you dating?”
You laughed at the way he fumbled his words. He seemed nervous suddenly, “No. I haven’t.” You placed your own glass down and suddenly felt that flutter of nerves, “And… I’m a little nervous to ask you the same.” You raised your brows at him.
He shook his head, “No.”
You nodded, “Surprised to hear that. But relieved I have to admit.”
“Why are you surprised?”
“Because I thought you’d have your pick. In fact even today when I thought there was a chance I might see you, felt like it was silly because surely you’d moved on and found someone.”
Harry’s brows stitched together, “I had a hard time feeling okay after that day when I left your apartment. Have actually never been so depressed and distraught over anyone before. I couldn’t just move on. Even when I started to feel a little better about it all. I just missed you so much. I know you blocked me on every platform out there. I got the hint when you didn’t text or call back. But I still missed you.”
You smiled, “And you’re not on social media at all. I did look but I kind of felt like if I did find you it wouldn’t have been good for me. I know I could have tried harder to reach out. I think I was a little scared of what I’d find.”
“What did you think you’d find?”
“That you were dating someone. I don’t know.”
The air shifted when Harry brought his hand up to your chin and gently gripped your face, “You’re the only woman I’ve had my mind on all these months. The only one I could ever think about. I don’t want anyone else.”
Your lips parted and you blinked your eyes as you took in his words.
“Do you understand what I mean? I don’t know if you feel the same way about me but just to know that you missed me and want me to be here with you right now means everything to me.”
“I don’t want anyone else either, Harry.”
“Does that mean you want me? I just need to hear it if it’s true, Y/n.”
You gulped and nodded, “Yeah. I do.”
The hand that held your chin released you and moved around to the back of your neck while his other hand landed on your hip and he pressed his lips to yours.
At last. At last.
You closed your eyes and drew your hands up to the back of his neck and moaned as he opened his mouth and you opened yours. Lips winding and smearing and pushing…
It felt like you were looking down at yourself, watching as you kissed Harry in your kitchen. And it was a beautiful sight. The two of you joined, grasping onto the other, hearts thrashing in your chests, bodies alight.
Harry’s grip on your side tightened, his fingers pinching around your clothes. The hand at the back of your neck squeezing and holding you in place as his lips slid against yours
You allowed yourself to be pulled in closer and moved your hand into his curls. You missed his scent. You missed his touch. His warmth. His care.
He parted from the kiss and moved his hand to your jaw, “Can we start over? This time, Y/n, you’re not going to regret it. This is it for us. Understand me?”
His words were almost a threat. Or maybe a promise. Both perhaps.
“Yes, Harry. I’m not going to regret it this time. I promise.”
He nodded, still holding you close, and then softly ghosted his lips over yours, “Because I can’t lose you again. I want this with you.”
You were gonna lose it. Everything was too much and not enough. You wanted him and you wanted to go slow but you wanted to tear his clothes off and feel him all over.
“I want you, Harry,” you breathed out against his lips as you clung to him, “I want this with you.”
You felt the vibration of his moan against your mouth as he dropped his lips to your chin and then along the curve of your jaw. When his lips pressed into the skin on your neck you gasped and hugged him tighter. His mouth drew your flesh in as he sucked a spot and then lowered to the curve of your shoulder and neck, suckling again at the skin where you knew it would be bruised.
“Fuck…” he whispered as he pressed his nose against your jaw, “Where’s your bedroom, Y/n?”
That was easy. The house was small. You led him down the hallway to your bedroom where you turned on your lamp and he began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Take your clothes off.”
You were surprised by his sudden command but you didn’t want to ask questions. The only thing you wanted was him and his hands and his body…
You pulled off your top before unzipping your skirt and kicking it down your legs. Harry’s eyes were dark as he continued taking his clothes off while he watched you undress.
When you were only in your underwear and bra he pointed, “Off. All of it.”
You swallowed and did as he said. Taking your bra off first and then your panties slowly as you used your bed to keep balance.
Harry was left in only his boxer briefs as he stalked toward you like a predator. You’d seen him in action before, you’d seen him a little dominant but this was different. It was like he had something to prove.
“On the bed, Y/n.”
You gave him a curt nod and sat down before scooting back into your bed. He climbed between your legs and moved your thighs apart, “You want this right? You want me? Want us?” He looked at you.
You nodded, “Yes, Harry. I do.”
That seemed like all he needed to know before he finally placed his lips on your chubby thigh, dotting wet kisses down and toward the soft inside near to your crotch and then he switched to the other side, kissing upward gently as he looked at you and then gripped the back of your thighs to push your legs apart, switching his sight from your face to your pussy.
“Y/n I missed everything about you,” he lowered himself, putting his stomach down onto your bed as he held himself over your core, “I know I only had you twice like this but I missed your body. Your smell,” he let go of your left leg as he pressed his fingers onto your mound and slowly dragged them downward, “The way your thighs part and how your skin looks right here,” he pressed a kiss over the spot right next to your labia.
But then he pushed himself up and climbed over you releasing your leg, his hands finding your breasts, “Your perfect tits,” his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue laving over your sensitive bud and kissing over your soft skin toward your other side, lapping at your plush breasts before dragging his mouth upward to your neck, “Your skin, your voice,” hot peppered kisses up to your jaw until his mouth met yours again.
“Your mouth, this mouth,” he licked against your lips and pushed his mouth against the edge of yours and ran his nose against yours, “You. I missed you. Everything. Your heart and your laugh. I can’t do it again. I can’t go through that again.”
You felt his hands on your face, cupping your cheeks as he looked down at you, “Don’t leave me. Not ever again.”
You shook your head and lifted a hand up to his jaw, “Never. I don’t want to, Harry. I won’t.”
He grinned dreamily at you, his eyes wandering over your features slowly before he lowered himself down your body again, pressing his shoulders to the back of your thighs, and hooked his arms underneath to keep you in place.
The moment you felt his mouth on your core you clenched your eyelids closed and sighed. It had meant so much to you to have him loving on you, touching you, needing you. And Harry was the only man who’d ever worked an orgasm out of you with his mouth.
And even then, his tongue dragging through your pussylips and up to your clit, over and over again in a teasing, slow build it had you unwinding and unfolding for him. You wanted to give yourself to him fully. And that felt so good.
It felt good to trust yourself for once. To allow yourself to trust him. You could push past your feelings of inadequacy and thinking that no one would actually want you for you. Because that was a lie. You had been lying to yourself for so long and even though you knew it was your own hangup, it was hard to get past it. Until now. Because now you weren’t going to undermine yourself anymore. You learned it was okay to question motives but that it was also okay to accept kindness and love where it was offered.
You felt as he applied open-mouthed kisses to your clit and finally began to push over it, the pressure and the slide of his tongue right where you needed him had you moaning. Had you getting his face all wet.
Harry’s mouth and tongue worked at you strategically; slow teases of a gentle lap at your bud and then a harsh suck and flick to make you shiver. Every wet drag of his muscle against your clit drew you closer to your end as you gave in to the feeling.
And just like the other times he’d eaten you out you reached down to push your fingers into his hair and arched your back into him as a signal for him to keep doing exactly what he was doing. And he seemed to understand your nonverbal cue as he dug in and continued lapping and sucking exactly like you liked.
He watched your tits wobble and your body jerk and convulse as he kept his mouth suctioned to your pussy with his tongue wagging and slicking over your puffy clit until he felt you pressing his head down further and you coughed out a loud groan when your thighs started to shake.
His moans into your pussy vibrated through to your guts and it felt like you were going to explode.
“Fuck, Harry!” You were grinding yourself into his mouth and nose as you felt your release snap and you lost control of your volume and the sound of your voice and your limbs as he held you down so he could press broad strokes of his tongue over your pussy back and forth.
Harry closed his eyes and let you use his face and mouth to grind your clit on as you orgasmed. His cock was so hard; just tasting you and hearing your gasps and pleas of need had him spinning in the clouds. It made him happy to hear how good he was making you feel.
And that’s what he wanted the most. Was to make you happy. He wanted your smiles and laughter. He wanted you to enjoy his company and to feel happy with him. He wanted your heart and your soul and everything that made you who you were because he’d already decided he’d give you everything he could. His heart was yours already.
Ever since that day you kicked him out of your apartment, he hadn’t stopped thinking about all the things he did wrong. How childish he’d been with you. He hadn’t meant to fuck up so badly but he would make sure that his old ways were in the past. Now he was yours and he would prove to you that you could trust him.
When you gently released his hair and pushed yourself up to look at him he lifted with a grin, “Felt good?” His mouth and chin were glistening with you.
You laughed and nodded as you watched him slide his underwear down his sturdy thighs and toss them onto the floor. His body was even better than before. You weren’t sure why. Maybe he’d been hitting the gym harder. Or maybe it was just that now things were different. And you were seeing him in a different light. Looking at him in a way that you never had before. But you were still focused on his strong build and dark tattoos as well. That glorious cock, bobbing and heavy was all yours. You loved the way he felt inside of you and how perfect it looked hanging between his thighs like it was.
You sat up and got to your knees to adjust yourself and laid a palm on his thigh as you looked at him and licked your lips. He understood your hint as you moved your hand up toward his cock and he looked down at your fingers before placing his hand over yours, “We’ll do that later. Plenty of time to get to all that. I just want to make love to you, Y/n.”
“But you ate me out. I should at least–“
“No. Later,” he got to his knees and pushed you gently back to your bottom, “You don’t understand. I can’t wait one more second to be inside of you. We’ll have plenty of time for that other stuff but I haven’t had sex since in 9 months. If you put your mouth anywhere near my cock it’s gonna make me come too fast. A little out of practice,” he smiled with a small laugh as you laid your back into the mattress and he settled himself between your legs, hips tucking against yours.
You could feel his rigid, girthy cock slide through your labia as he rolled his hips down and up, wetting his shaft, “Want to fuck you now. Okay?”
You moaned and nodded. It was okay by you. You knew there’d be time for blowjobs later so you didn’t mind having him inside your cunt, stuffing you to the brim like you knew he would. There was plenty of time for all that, now that you weren’t going to be running off from him again.
“Want this cock, honey?” He continued rocking his hips. Sliding himself up and down, the tip of his cock collecting your arousal and pushing it up to your clit.
“Yes, Harry. Please.” You bucked upward to catch him at your entrance but he pressed your hip down and grinned at you playfully.
“Love hearing you say please. Such a good girl for me.”
You groaned when he wouldn’t push in right away, still teasing you with the drag of his thick shaft up and down through your labia and against your clit. The sound of it was lewd. Filthy.
“Please fuck me!” You whined.
Harry paused his motions, keeping his eyes on yours as he reared back and took his base in his palm to line himself up to your hole. He kept one hand on the inside of your thigh as he began to press himself inward slowly, the snap of his bulbous head entering you and pushing through your walls was the first act of confirming everything.
Confirming that this was it. That now you were connected and there was no turning back. That all the promises spoken were sealed.
You both kept your eyes pinned on one another as he bottomed out, balls tucked against your ass with a whimper from his mouth and a deep sigh of relief.
He slowly pulled back before inching his way back into the hilt and repeated his languid strokes as your wet pussy blossomed and opened wide for his girth until he was rocking down into you with a force that had your tits bouncing and harsh breaths punching from your lungs.
Harry’s strong abs clenched as his thighs flexed, working into you, exacting strokes deep into your cunt and skin colliding every time you felt the dip of his crown nudging into your tummy.
He sat back to his haunches, knees bent with the back of your thighs draped over the top of his. He watched as he sunk into you and pulled back to his tip, his shaft glistening and coated in you before he thrust back in until you were gasping and reaching for his arms to keep yourself grounded. To remind yourself of who’s cock was fucking you so good.
“Love this pussy, Y/n. You take me so well. So fucking juicy and plush,” he pounded into you, putting everything he had into it, muscles working and pushing him further and further as you bounced upward on the mattress every time he crashed into you.
“Hear that, baby?” Harry used a hand to squeeze at your tit, “Your bed squeaking, your pussy creamy and wet around me, those desperate whimpers from these pretty lips?” He pushed his hand up to your mouth, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip.
You moaned in response and nodded as you stitched your brows together in bliss.
“That’s right. That’s the sound of me fucking you and we’re gonna do it again and again and again. Yeah?” He spoke through clenched teeth.
You nodded, “Fuck! Yes, Harry!” Your words were punched from your lungs as he continued railing ito you, his hips rocking against yours.
Your whole being was lit up. From your racing mind to your tingling skin and toes, the bones that kept you solid, your pumping heart, and your pussy gripping onto Harry’s fat cock as he slid into you, back and forth, bumping through your inside walls into that hard-to-reach little dip that had you breathless.
Every stroke he gave you put you closer and closer to your second orgasm. The delicious emergence and unraveling of your end made you delirious.
When he leaned himself over you he thrust down harshly, pushing your thighs wider apart, the sound gushy and slick as he drove into you. You could feel his cock sliding through your guts and his pelvis grinding against your clit making you quiver.
“Oh my god…” you panted as you reached up for his shoulders where you could feel the taught muscle keeping himself up and aligned as he fucked into you, your back digging into the mattress underneath.
“Yeah? Feels good huh? Told you we fit together perfectly. Pussy deserves to be filled and stuffed every day. Want you to feel so good, baby…”
“It’s so fucking good,” your whimpered words were shaky and breathy.
“I know baby… So good… gonna give it to you every fucking day like this. Make love to you and treat you like a queen. Be so good to you…” his strained words were breathy as he was feeling the heat with you.
His lips pressed into yours and your brain short-circuited as you fell into that hazy, floaty space of ecstasy and need. Need for Harry and his body and his heart. Need for happiness with him. The need to feel happiness with someone you could trust.
When you sucked on his tongue and he rocked into you, keeping his hips smoothe against yours you began to whine and moan as your orgasm approached.
But then Harry stopped. He pulled back from the kiss and looked down at you with that evil grin you’d seen before and you gasped at the loss. You had just been on the cusp of coming.
He quickly pulled out as his own chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cock swayed and you pushed yourself up to see what was happening before he grabbed your sides and rolled you over to your tummy.
“Harry!” You yelped at the sudden maneuver and felt his palm land harshly on your bum. And then again and again. You jumped and crooned out as he issued your ass a handful of spankings to each side and then heard him moan when he kneaded into the meat of your bottom as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You suddenly felt him pushing your legs apart and fitting himself between them as he forced his hard cock back into your wet pussy, his heavy tip pushing past your small opening and you gasped at the suddenness of it all.
You moaned at the relief of finally having him tucked back inside. He slid through you smoothly, his hands holding your ass cheeks apart as he worked himself in over and over. You had your face smushed into the blankets as you sighed.
His hips rocked against your ass and you could feel him swiveling himself in every time his balls pressed into your skin, grounding himself deep through your tummy. The sounds he was making had you grinning. It felt just as good for him. He needed your body for relief. You were happy to let him get whatever he needed from you.
Slow languid strokes of his long cock, splitting you open with every thrust felt so good. It reminded you of how big he really was. How bulky and long his cock was as it disappeared inside of you and nudged its way into your depths.
“Stick your fingers over your clit, Y/n. Go on baby.”
You gurgled a moan and lifted your hips slightly to allow your right hand access to your pussy. And it was more relief. The feel of it all coming together was perfection. His fat cock taking up every inch of your insides, his tip crashing through your guts, the weight of him behind you and fucking you into the mattress, and your fingers on your clit, slipping and pressing…
Harry gave himself a moment to bask in the view of his cock spreading your vagina apart. He dragged a thumb over the spot where he was fucking into you, feeling himself move in and out, watching your pussy wrapped around him, glistening wet until he felt his balls tightening and constricting and your walls clamping down over him.
He could see your hips moving faster as you ground over your hand to get to your orgasm but then he pulled at your hand, moving your fingers away from your clit and you felt his chest against your back and his lips against the shell of your ear as he mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear.
It caught you off guard. The second denial of your orgasm. You angled your neck to try and turn toward him, “Harry, what?”
You felt him press his cock in hard, hips stilling against your ass, his lips pressed over your ear, “Put your fingers back on your clit but don’t move them til I say.”
In confusion, you slid your hand back to your core and he continued, “Good.”
He reared back and then thrust forward again, “Do you want to come, Y/n? Wanna come on my cock?”
You moaned a yes as you secretly slid a finger across your bud making you shiver.
“Then tell me you’re mine. Say you’re mine, Y/n, and I’ll let you come.”
You had no hesitation in telling him just that, “Harry I’m yours. I’m yours…”
“My girl. That’s right. Rub your pussy, baby. Get yourself off,” his breathy words were warm over your ear and neck as you began to slip your fingers back and forth to get you back to that spot that would have you tipping over the edge.
Then you felt Harry shift behind, his chest no longer pressed into your back as he started pounding into you, “Fucking come, baby. You’re mine now…”
You grinned in elation at his words and the way he sounded totally fucked out himself. Much like the way you were feeling. Like he was out of his mind with lust for you.
Every smack of his hips into your bum had you jolting up and you ground down into your hand, rolling your clit over whatever you could reach when you started to feel that melting, unraveling sensation. The electrical charge that made your pussy quiver and your back arch and your vision go white.
“There it is! Fuck!” Harry’s thrusts were harsh but every stroke felt like a sparking and exhilarating charge going through your body. His tip plunged into your cervix and fingers gripped your bottom harshly as you heard him choke out a loud moan.
“Gonna fill you fill you up baby… fuck… stuff you with my come…”
You could hardly hear your bed creaking and clanking as your ears began to ring and you gushed around Harry, your walls spasming and constricting around him tightly.
He moved into you, gliding in and out until finally his balls squeezed and pumped sperm through his cock directly into your wet hole. He stilled his hips as he whimpered a groan, throwing his neck back with his mouth dropped open, his cock throbbing inside of you, coating your walls with his come.
It seemed to last forever. He moaned and twitched, his body connected and pressed into yours as he drained every bit of himself into you. He pressed inward further, stuffing your pussy with his come, making sure every bit of it seeped through your cunt and soaked your insides.
He hadn’t had sex in 9 months. Jerking himself off didn’t do it like the real thing and when it was with you it was even better. The best. He hadn’t come so hard ever in his life he was certain as his body flushed in heat and his heart thudded wildly in his chest when he crumpled over your back, tucking his arms around you and kissing your neck softly.
You moaned quietly at the feel of him on your back. The post-orgasm glow was never so good before. It felt like you were in a different realm of existence, floating and glowing in bliss.
“You’re mine, Y/n?” He wanted reassurance. Which was understandable after the way you handled things the first time around. But this time was going to be different. You two were starting over again. This time with a better understanding of what the other needed, with a better understanding of yourself and what each of you needed to do to be a good partner. Things were different this time.
Harry pushed himself up and looked down at his sensitive cock still inside of you. He drew himself back and watched as his creamy come leaked from your hole and he pressed himself back inside. You felt him pumping himself in and out shallowly and turned your head to look at him. His eyes were glued to your cunt where he was fucking his come back inside of you. A natural urge he couldn’t deny.
When his eyes found yours and he finally pulled himself out, he helped you roll to your side as he laid next to you, his hand on your cheek and you placed your palm on his chest, “I’m yours, Harry. I was back then too I just didn’t realize it. Couldn’t admit it. But I’m yours.”
You both smiled at one another. His eyes were bright and clear and you could trust him. You knew you could. He made you feel so comfortable about yourself. Made you feel like you could make him happy and that he’d want to stick around for you. That he would make you happy in return.
He took your hand and pressed it harder over his chest, “I’m yours too. I was since the day I first met you. I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful, Y/n. And I’m not letting go of you again.”
You grinned and pushed yourself up to his mouth to kiss him. You felt his palm slide down your side and to your bum, as he squeezed you, causing a laugh to puff out from your lips against his.
“Sorry, I love your ass. Feels so good in my hands. Just wanna bite it and stuff my face against it. Can’t help it.”
You rolled your eyes at him still grinning but when he swatted at your bottom your mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young lady. When I tell you I love your ass, I fucking mean it.” He gave you another good squeeze to emphasize his words.
So you slid your hand down to his nipple and squeezed at it, “And I love your nipples and these tits,” you laughed.
Harry’s wide grin and dimples were suddenly hidden when he nuzzled his face into your neck and you heard him inhale deeply.
The afterglow with him was something out of a romance novel. It was beautiful and precious. Almost too good to be true.
The sound of a cellphone ringing had both you and Harry lifted out of the sweet moment. He sat up, “It’s me.”
He hopped out of your bed and you watched as he crouched down to his pants where his phone was in his back pocket. His strong back flexing as he pulled it out and then stood up to answer the call.
“Hello?”
You frowned as you watched him disappear into your hallway, still nude. Turning to look at the clock on your side table you noted that it was paste 10 pm. You wondered who was calling at the late hour. Couldn’t have been work. What could be so important that he had to leave your side after he’d just given you the best orgasm of your life?
“I’ll be there! I’m booking a flight as soon as I get off the phone. Yes..”
You could hear him pacing and talking. You picked up most of what he said as you sat silently on your bed waiting for him to return and explain himself.
“I missed you too. I can’t wait to finally meet her. I know. Me too.”
You slid off your bed and pulled a t-shirt from your drawer to put it over your body as he ended the call with an I love you.
Harry walked back into your room with a huge grin, “My sister just had her baby!”
You smiled at him widely as he took three long-legged steps toward you, his cock swaying as he was still completely naked before he wrapped you in a tight hug, “Today is like the best day I’ve ever had. First you,” he kissed your cheek, “Now my sister...”
You laughed when he twirled around with you and then he let go, a sudden look of realization on his face, “Come with me to London. I want everyone to meet you!”
You blinked your eyes and stuttered your words, “Are you serious?”
He grabbed your hands, “Dead serious. Come with me. It’s not like you have to ask off for work. We can go for a couple of weeks. God, it’d be so fun, Y/n. Me and you… My mom’s going to love you.”
Your head was spinning from everything that had happened that day. From the moment Harry walked into that room at the gallery to now having him standing naked in your bedroom asking you to take a trip with him to see his family and his sister’s new baby. But, spinning or not, there was no part of you that would turn down the offer.
“That sounds amazing. I’d love to, Harry.”
He pulled you in for another hug and pressed his face into your neck, “This is going to be so good, Y/n.”
You laughed as he squeezed you tight and then his hands cupped your cheeks, “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll book our flights. Yeah?”
You nodded as your cheeks burned hot when he pressed his mouth to yours again.
It was a funny thing to you. That the first time you had sex with Harry the post-orgasm afterglow was interrupted by a phone call. And this time another phone call had broken the moment too. Except things were not the same as they were then. Now you knew who Harry was. You trusted him and this time everything was going to be different.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!! xoxo
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Family
Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader
Warning: angst with happy ending, fluff, sad Osferth
Summary: Osferth had always yearned for his own family. In your eyes he sees it.
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Osferth sat among Uhtred and his men as they sat around the table, talking and laughing over ale. He had laughed at some jests, but sitting opposite Aethelflaed made the pit in his stomach grow. Like he had swallowed a stone and is now lying uncomfortably in his stomach.
As Edward joined the table the pit in his stomach grew heavier. When his half-siblings began to joke around with each other. He was envious of their relationship. He had longed for siblings of his own, sometimes praying Alfred might acknowledge him and gift him with his younger siblings. But fate was cruel in that regard.
You watched him grow quiet next to you. Your light mood came to a halt as Osferth turned inward into himself. When he stood up as Edward had sat down you immediately were wrong. He had told you once while helping Lady Gisela in the household, he longed for a family, siblings. Somewhere he could turn when he needed warmth and companionship.
You smiled at him and told him he had Uhtred, Finan and Sihtric now. That Gisela already treated him like he was part of her family. And he could always come to you if he ever felt alone. He blushed softly, murmuring a soft thanks as you walked into the great hall with buckets of fresh water.
You looked over to the table he had sat alone. Your heart hurts as you see him hunched over his meal eating alone. You grabbed your ale and bowl of stew and walked over sitting on his right side. “Can I join?” You softly spoke.
Osferth looked at you like a thief caught red-handed. His cheeks grow warm at the sight of you. “Yes. Of course.” He stammered out softly. You smiled before resuming to eat. He watched you with soft eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Your soft voice flew into his ear. He shook his head, looking at his stew. He was thinking about gorging it all down even if he wasn’t hungry anymore. “You know you always have a family with me?” He grinned softly at your soft words. “I know.” He whispered back.
For some time, he had been thinking of family. He had travelled with Aethelflaed for some time. Trying to come up with an idea of how to establish a sibling relationship. He failed miserably.
When he looked at you, all he could see was his own family. With you as his wife. Many children so they would know what it felt to have siblings who loved one another.
“And what if I want it? A family with you?” He asked shyly. His heart beating so widely he could hear his blood rush in his ears. You frowned softly in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean, Os?”
That damned nickname you gave him made his stomach erupt in butterflies. “I mean our own family. Me, you … and maybe children of our own.” He whispered under his breath.
Your eyes widened softly. The spoon you were holding fell from your hand into the stew with a soft thud. “I thought you were a monk. Isn’t it against-“ “I don’t want to be anymore. My father chose this path for me. I will still be devoted to god, but I want to worship you as my wife.” He looked over at you with his soft blue eyes. “I can’t stay quiet anymore about my feelings about you. I feel more for you than a brother should. And I am thankful we aren’t related. I would like to make it known we are a family.”
You bit your lip softly. An act Osferth found irresistible. It seemed like the conversation was over when you looked away. But your body language gave Osferth hope. You softly scooted over to him and laid your head on his arm. “I like spring weddings.” Osferth grinned at your whisper.
The pit in his stomach was replaced by a swarm of butterflies. He leaned down and kissed the top of your head softly.
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vodrae · 6 months
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We need to give more props to our mighty god Alfred Pennyworth, only to thank him for his patience when he has to cook for the entire team
Bruce, Harley, Kate: Jewish ascend, don't eat pork, a lot of sea foods and horse.
Ivy: Vegan, except for rich man meat.
Talia: The League certainly has some of the best chef, bakers...in the world, everytime she's on vacations in the manor, it's personal. I don't know her relationship with pork, I mean, Chinese people love it, and Arab people being mostly muslim, it would be cultural not eating it. Also loves spice.
Dick: Romani, grew on the road, can survive on tuna cans and cereals.
Barbara: Her family was always ordering somewhere and most of the time tacos or chinese food.
Helena Bertinelli: Pasta and wine. By a chef. She loves pizza. And tomatoes.
Jason, Selina: Latinos, favourite meal would 100% be with pork, and spicy.
Tim: Survived alone on monster energy, milk and instant noodles and late burger when he stalked Bruce and Dick. That's why he smol.
Steph: Unstable household, she was feeling like a chef when there was cheese in her mac and cheese. Also vegetarian.
Cass: Will eat the entire plate. I mean litteraly. One time Bruce said her to drink her cup till it's hot, she was chewing on porcelain. Love desserts otherwise.
Harper and Cullen: Survived on chili.
Duke: Cornbread. He loves cornbread. Pretty normal household for once.
Damian: Vegeterian, and fed by chefs and Talia's cooking. It's. Personal.
Bonus :
Clark : Fed by Ma Kent. It's why he big and strong. Doesn't understand a meal without meat.
Lois : Doesn't understand a meal without fruits and vegetables.
Diana : Fed for 3000 years by immortals cordon bleu. Loves ice cream too much. It's. Personal.
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dcmeme · 6 months
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Batfam Covid series part 1
I figured out how to turn off autocorrect so it types ‘Selina’ and not ‘Selena’ woohoo! Progress! Multiple parts, all longer than usual.
Damian: Why is it everyone has to be within the same household?
Dick: Because it’s quarantine. Meaning you isolate with people you’ve been in contact with already that could have the disease.
Jason: I mean, I’ve gotta agree, this seems a bit blown out of proportion. The symptoms aren’t reading.
Tim: I think it’s more of the spread that’s of concern and those with preexisting health conditions being affected more than anything else-
Bruce: *throws tiny robots on the ground that latches to everyone’s ankles* There.
Jason: HEY! You said I wouldn’t be under house arrest again if I didn’t blow shit up (on purpose) or cause a full body cast for at least 3 weeks!
Bruce: This isn’t house arrest, this is insurance that none of you try to leave and put others at risk of infection.
Damian: That is absurd!
Dick: I gotta say, this feels a little extreme, Bruce.
Tim: Yeah, no. *takes it off*
Jason: How the f*ck?!
Tim: I’m gonna go stay at my boyfriend’s.
Bruce: The last thing you are doing is leaving this house, Tim. Like you said- it’s a major concern for those of preexisting health conditions.
Selina: I helped Alfred switch your and Damian’s old bedrooms so you are a bit more isolated-
Damian: Excuse me?! I don’t want to sleep near Helena’s room. She continues to make sounds.
Bruce: You don’t have a choice. In fact, none of you do. Not until everyone is tested- including anyone you’ve been around the last 12 days.
Dick: So no Kori?
Bruce: Has she been tested?
Dick: I mean she’s been on another planet with Mari for, like, 6 months soooo
Bruce: they’re fine to stay.
Damian: Can John come over?
Bruce: I don’t even let him over when there isn’t a pandemic.
Jason: Can’t I just be under house arrest at a safe house? I don’t care to self isolate- just let me grab a few books and I’m good for dayyys.
Bruce: Absolutely not.
Tim: Ok than let Bernard come over?
Bruce: No.
Tim: But what if he tests.
Bruce: I don’t like that boy being in my house.
Tim: Oh come on. He only broke,like, two or three things in the cave.
Jason: Didn’t that somehow include the giant penny?
Damian: and the window to the Batmobile.
Dick: *sighs* The chair to the batcomputer has squeaked ever since he left that night.
Bruce: My cape.
Alfred: He was rather harsh on the grappling hooks as well, Master Drake-
Tim: I said I loved a man, not a smart one-
Bruce: No Bernard.
Tim: oh come on! Dick gets to bring Kori!
Dick: and my kid.
Tim: Oh come on you barely see her but three times a year.
Dick: I’ve known her seven months and she’s been gone six for some Tamaranian ritual or something humans can’t be at!
Selina: Will all of you stop shouting. If my baby wakes up, I will find a way to make all of you pay.
Bruce: The only person with a second option on where they’re staying is Damian-
Jason: Bull shit!-
Bruce: Talia has asked he go back to the league’s temple since COVID hasn’t likely breeched them yet.
Damian: Can I bring my children?
Bruce: Only the dog.
Damian: than no.
Bruce: you’ll have to take that up with your mother.
Damian: I’ll make this much clear- I would sacrifice each of you individually for the sake of my children-
Tim: you mean your pets?
Damian: they are family in this house, Drake. I can’t say the same for you.
Tim: You really don’t expect me to live next to this brat for literal months, right? He’ll kill me by the end of the week! I’m much safer at my place.
Bruce: As of right now this is all of our place. Stop bickering and get used to the idea of being under the same roof for a while.
Cassandra: It could be fun! We can even have a family dinner after we’re all tested.
Damian: oh joy. Sharing food with the nuisance Drake and the pig that is Todd. Fantastic.
Jason: Don’t you have a mommy to call?
Damian: Don’t you have a casket to sleep in!
Jason: Oh f*ck you!
Bruce: now boys-
Tim: Is this seriously how you expect me to live?!
Cassandra: we can make breakfast for dinner and by then maybe the weather will be nice enough to open windows and set up candles-
Jason: you think you have it bad?! I’m surrounded by the same people who-
Damian: I better not have to sit at that dinner by Drake, Cain, or so help me god-
Bruce: enough!
Tim: For my own safety please god do not do that cass-
Jason: I don’t see why you’re complaining when I’m the one who has to-
Bruce: *louder* enough
Tim: I have a right to feel however I want!
Damian: If that is the case, I feel you should all be disowned-
Dick: why are we all arguing again?!
Damian/Tim/Jason/Bruce: SHUT UP, DICK/GRAYSON
Dick:… what did I do? 🥺
Helena: *screaming from upstairs*
Selina:…
Bruce:…
Everyone:…
Bruce:…we’ll take this outside.
Selina: That would be great, thank you.
122 notes · View notes
unlikely-course · 2 years
Text
Ok like I don’t know what I can’t get over more, that Cristabel was literally a nun or that Mercy’s best friend was a literal nun, yknow? Like when John says Mercy was a hard atheist since 12—that’s totally “they both grew up in hardcore Catholic households together and two paths diverged in a fucking wood,” right? Like when Mercy figured out she was bi? Gotta be it. Jesus Christ imagine if the girl you’ve been in love with your entire life becomes a nun. And the guy you’re in love with is Augustine. And then the world ends! What a time. I suppose Gideon—>Prince Kiriona Gaia is a good map of pre to post resurrection, perhaps. It’s these little things I keep pondering. Like Cassie, Most Mad Scientist, was a lawyer??? And Cassie and Nigella were married! I mean that is not like surprising but it’s sweet. Alfred is Just Happy to Be Here, as always.
Loved Crown spending a good chunk of the book dragging Judith’s screaming, mostly unconscious body around being like “will SOMEBODY please help my fucking girlfriend????” (A girlfriend who would give Ianthe? Crown? Both? a single calendar for every birthday). What a fucking move by Crown the way. Ianthe using Babs as a very fancy but still totally disposable glove was bonkers in fucking Yonkers still not over it. Ianthe continuing to be, somehow, despite being the worst girl in the world, the one trying to actually stop the apocalypse. We all got so starry-eyed over “the death of the lord” we didn’t realize the lyctors begging him to seal the “saltwater creature” away was the pact of the flood. But a challenger approaches! Now we know why harrows parents were so hellbent on reproducing.
Speaking of Ianthe—the fucking duel!!!! Fuck!!!! I’m frankly fucking devastated about Cam and Pal. Like I love Paul because they’re Cam and Pal, but also they’ll never be Cam and Pal again, and it’s A Lot. It’s beautiful and it’s awful and it just is what it is. God Muir how could you take Camilla Hect from me. Fuck. Add that to the fucking board I guess, for “ways not to do lyctorhood” because that would only work for those two.
528 notes · View notes
changingplumbob · 6 days
Note
What is your OC bringing to the class for show-and-tell?
*Bell rings* Come on young ones, time to grab your favourite piece of random!
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High School Class
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Onyx Pancakes: These are all my horse books. And here is my short essay using them to try and convince my mother to get me a horse.
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Carson Foster: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle! This is the trash bag representing how much rubbish my household generated in a day. (wouldn't take real rubbish because that is not a healthy choice for managing our OCD) Every one of you produces a similar amount that will likely NEVER decompose *begins rant about recycling*
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Artemisia York: This is my praying mantis. She and her species engage in woohoo canibalism so she may have killed dozens of unsuspecting mates as well as her usual prey for feasting
Middle/Primary School Class
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Fergus Pancakes: This is my camera. I know we mostly use the camera on our phones now but I love photography so mother and dad got me a real one.
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Milton Goth: This is the collection of outfits my older brother and Uncle James use to dress up their cats
Heckler: Your brother shares cats with your uncle???
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Milton: Uncle James is my brother in law, so he married my brother, but that's not the point. Look how cute these vampire and knight outfits are
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Silas Knightstone: Today I brought some pictures of me and my younger brother Pollock. He's the best baby brother you could ask for. He's going to be a toddler soon. Here we are playing peek-a-boo
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Savannah Chopra: Here are some locusts I caught on papa's crops. Mama and papa have promised we're going to go to Granite Falls and I can collect more. Bugs are amazing
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Mercedes Chopra: Umm... I got some... sheet music. Mama says she... composted (composed) it when she was pregnant with me and Savannah. When I get... older she says she's going to teach me how to play it.
Daycare Darlings
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Alfred Villareal: I like... birbs. This birb toy *waves bird toy* mummy got. Mummy know birbs. Mama got birb *points to self*... top!
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Rilian Villareal: Sammich, no like, no like *waves half sandwich he hid in his bag to avoid eating it at home*
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Viola Chopra: Egg! *chicken noises* (she absolutely bought some boiled eggs from the coop and would say that Cluckton lay them)
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Pollock Knightstone: *chomps on squeaky toy*
24 notes · View notes
grem-archive · 1 year
Note
Pspsps may we ask for some romerica headcanons/thoughts? 👀👀
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A great majority of these are between the esteemed @temtamtom and me! I think I accidentally converted you to Romericism Tem, so I apologize. I hope you heal soon :facedowncrying: also I am sorry in advance that there are so many. There are just as many more that I’m not including.
Romano is a respectful short king at 165 cm/5’5” next to Alfred’s 188 cm/6’2”. Poor Roma is also in an entirely different weight class; 55 kg compared to 102 kg.
“Romano dates what he can’t have (fat ass and big titties).”
“If you don’t love me like Hadrian loved Antinous it’s not worth it.”
This is 100% a Zoomer BF & Boomer BF situation. Alfred had to teach Romano how to use Zoom and FaceTime and always uses strange magic Gen Z words that leave Romano bewildered. Alfred’s “she eb on my nezer til I Scrooge” to Romano’s “look at this funny minion meme I found” (it’s 8 years outdated).
Romano loves paired dances and Alfred has a fair bit of energy. They adore swing dance and jive! When determined they’ll clear the room to listen to their old records and swing.
Related to this, they love to dance together in general and sing. They’ve made a playlist for doing their home chores when together and it’s chock full of songs both know by heart; both in English and Italian. And the amount of dancing they do to distract themselves? Immense. We’re talking a disco outbreak in the hall, Alfred starting to do the hand jive and Romano joining. They have fun.
They love watching westerns together. And I do mean love. We call Romerica “Spaghetti Western” in this house! And we’re not saying Romano has a cowboy kink, but he’s got a cowboy kink. Will find any excuse to get Alfred into some version of western wear (he’s usually pretty willing, it’s really not that hard).
Alfred lets Romano dress him up like a Ken Doll. He's just happy to be spending time with Roma, who, let's be real, has a much better fashion sense. Romano also has a history of patching up Alfred's clothes and uniforms, sometimes hiding hidden stitched hearts on the former.
They cook for each other a lot. The way to both their hearts are through their stomachs and it’s very obvious at times. Food driven to the core.
“Your cooking is going to make me fat.” Romano complains. “Y’know you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.” Alfred replies. Romano scrunches his nose, “Don’t tell me what to do.” He then takes another bite.
When Romano first arrived in New York, he knew very little English. On the other hand, Alfred knew very little Italian, if any. Communication was a very glaring issue in the beginning. They figured out that they both knew Spanish and could communicate that way until they taught each other more of their respective languages.
We’re not calling Alfred Romano’s sugar daddy, but hey, it doesn’t hurt when your beefcake boyfriend has a shiny credit card and makes a wonderful bag carrier :shrugs:
Romano’s common household weapons: the wooden spoon (the only actual weapon), the rolling pin (threat only), a comically large frying pan (threat only unless they’re getting up to Tom & Jerry shenanigans), and a comically long pizza paddle (for long range ass-smacking). However, Alfred has started learning to declaw the rolling pin threats by responding with “That’s so hot,” or some equivalent. Romano is having to rethink some of his battle plans.
Both are serial cuddlers when they’re together, but Romano is more confident in bolder displays of PDA and touchier overall. A hand on Alfred’s back or waist as he passes by, a kiss to the shoulder. Alfred, taking advantage of his height, loves hugging Romano from behind and resting his chin on Romano’s head.
Alfred loves to carry Romano and pick him up. Romano complains but never actually means it. In fact, he loves it but is simply a stubborn fool.
Alfred has beef with Romano’s pet rooster, Ugo. Ugo is the only force that could make Alfred F. Jones, the United States of America, run for his life. Fear the peck!
Romano is the bedtime enforcer in this relationship. Alfred’s sleep schedule is pretty shit and Romano loves his sleep (and his cuddles). When they visit each other, he often has to physically drag Alfred to bed. They also nap together, though often it’s just Romano that ends up sleeping.
Alfred is constantly fascinated with Romano’s stories from childhood or at least the Nation equivalent of such. The number of things Romano and Veneziano can remember from times far before Alfred or frequent guest Ludwig ever existed blows his mind. He’s always asking for more. It’s both his natural wonder and curiosity, but also the archaeologist in him.
Alfred F. “Hey Romano babe can I bench press you? I wanna hold you but I gotta get my workout in.” Jones. Does squats with Romano on his back. Will be doing sit-ups with Romano sitting on him so he can give him smooches on the up. Romano complains about the sweat but doesn’t actually make any moves to get up or leave.
Both are romantics in their own way, but in this dynamic, Romano is the one who typically initiates the moment. Alfred is usually the one who ruins the moment with a joke but in the most affectionate way possible. He’s embarrassing, but he’s Romano’s.
Alfred and Ludwig have made their own joint study of the way Romano and Veneziano use their hands when they speak. I wish I had their notes.
Over time they’ve learned each other’s old full names and use them. Not that they have much of an effect, it’s more a silly than anything. But it is still a jumpscare. Alfred Fly-from-Fornication Kirkland versus Publius Romilius Romanus Regillus. Who wins?
If they encounter some bullshit together in public, Romano is the “I’m going to kick your ass.” Alfred is the “And I’m about to hand him the chair.” That, or he’s picking Romano up and carrying him away.
192 notes · View notes
devine-fem · 3 months
Note
Hi can I hear some of ur batjokes headcannons 😎 specifically telltale ones pleaseee we need to keep the juce fandom alive lol
oooh, hi moot.
an ask about one of the BEST Batman and joker depictions, if not the best <3
ANYWAY. ty for the ask, i never really talk about them even though theyre my favs
john sitting and bruces lap at the batcomputer
john sitting at the foot of bruce’s chair at the batcomputer
alfred picking up jokes from john
bruce asking john about jokes is so special to me because he’ll just sit and listen to him ramble
i like to think john stays at the manor like a robin, i also like to think alfred helps him do household stuff and john eventually takes a liking to chores like sowing and laundry (im sorry, im so fluffy)
id kind of want john to try and get some intensive therapy to see if he can remember anything from his past
ugh, protective bruce, i love you, he is and is so protective in my head
i know john is a fanboy for batman so i feel like he’d buy batman merch thinking bruce would like but in reality he’s very confused
bruce bought him a high tech camera so he can take better pictures
bruce creates a mental rule against lying to john, even if it would hurt, he refuses to lie to him more than he has
i don’t think the clown theme came from harley so i like to think the carnival and clown themes are a special interest to john
so let bruce buy him carnival themed stuff because i like the idea that buying stuff is a love language for him
bruce also has a rule against going on dates with woman since john
im sorry, im so fluffy 😭
30 notes · View notes
sugarbell · 4 months
Text
Batfam X Neglected Batsis Reader
Part 2
It was the day, or night of the fundraiser and you were jittery. With both nerves, and excitement. For starters it was your first time at an event like this by yourself. Usually at least your siblings were there, but being around them was like being alone anyways.
Harry had a package sent to the house two days before and Alfred had brought it up to your bedroom. A note was inside the box on top of a black dress. It wasn’t anything too flashy, but it was definitely a jaw-dropper. It was short, black, and had long sleeves but the sides were ruched and had two strings that tied into loose bows at the sides and dangled down your thighs. He had also sent a pair of black suede heels, and you had never worn any before so you were especially nervous about those, but you had been practicing in your room almost all day when it was sent. There was also a diamond clutch purse, and a matching thin diamond necklace and earrings. You had gasped when you pulled everything out of the gift box. You could tell the diamonds were real.
When Alfred brought it up he seemed a little puzzled, but also had a little knowing smirk on his lips. Probably from the little tag on the gift box that read, “To Miss Lana Lang” with a drawn heart and a kissy face. You had wanted to tell Alfred that it wasn’t what he thought but you decided against it, and simply thanked him for bringing the package up. Immediately you set it on your bed and sighed. You had barely known this boy for longer than ten minutes and he was already embarrassingly flirty. But you couldn’t deny that it made a little smile pull at your own lips, and turned your freckled cheeks a little pink. You hadn’t really been able to stop thinking about him ever since that time on the sidewalk where you met him.
Although you weren’t actually planning to go, even when he sent the dress. You did feel a little pressured, feeling a little bad that he would’ve spent all this money on clearly expensive clothing and accessories, just for you to not even show up. And you had really wanted to see him again. You thought about sending it all back with an apology letter, but when you read the letter inside the box your mind was half changed. What happened with Damian just sealed the deal.
“Lana, I’d really love it if you’d wear this and join me at the fundraiser event in two days. There’s no pressure though, if you aren’t interested. Maybe we could meet up and do something else instead. However if you do decide to come, it would really make my day. 8:00 sharp. Even if you don’t decide to come, keep the outfit. Maybe I could see you in it another time.
P.S., the diamonds are real. You’d look lovely in them, Kitten.”
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After you read that letter, your head was spinning, and your heart was beating ten times faster. You did feel a little relieved that he wasn’t pressuring you to come. And was he asking you out again? If you didn’t want to come? It was too much for you to think about at the time, so you had packed it all up, we’re preparing to write up a letter explaining why you couldn’t come. Probably using some bullshit excuse of having to finish a paper for school or something.
But after you had that incident in the kitchen with your younger “brother”, you had made up your mind. You were going. You needed a distraction anyway. A break, and you wanted to do something for you for once, instead of constantly trying to please everyone else in the household and tripping yourself up in the process.
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(Present Time)
You were currently getting dressed in your room. You had to wear a black strapless bra because of the sweetheart cut and curved breast line of the dress. You weren’t sure how he knew your size, but he probably took a gamble. It wouldn’t have been hard to figure out that you were an extra small because of your build. It fit perfectly. It hugged your body, you didn’t really have many or any curves for that matter, it it made you look incredibly flattering. You slipped into the black suede heels that also fit very well. After dumping all your necessities into your diamond clutch(, wallet, keys, pads, candies, pepper spray-you never know-) you had fastened the dazzling necklace and earrings on and next was your hair. You let it down and it was already straight, but you used a flat iron to bump it inwards a little at the ends. You painted your lips with a dark-wine colored lipstick. You had bought it a while back but never used it. That was the only makeup you put on as you looked in the mirror.
You were happy with your appearance. “I hope Harry is too.” You thought but instantly, you brushed the intrusive thought away. “You hardly know him, Lana” you told yourself.
Now for the hard part..sneak out the house at 7:50 pm and try not to get noticed by nine people. Piece of cake. It wasn’t necessarily ray you weren’t supposed to go, it was more you didn’t really want to have to explain to anyone why you were dressed for a party, and leaving the house at 8:00 p.m., when all you’ve ever done was stay inside the house shut up in your room. You crept through the house as quietly as you could in nine inch heels. You were down the stairs and now all you had to do was cross the spacious living room to reach the kitchen. And you were almost home free when you heard footsteps. Slow, but sure. Fuck.
You thought you were done for, but when you saw Alfred’s frame round the corner with a neutral look on his face you breathed a sigh of relief. At least maybe you could try talking to him. “Alfred! Um, hi…” you said with a nervous smile on your face. You were a dead giveaway. “Ahem. Going somewhere, young Madame Lang?” He asked. You sighed and shook your head. There was no point in trying to lie or dance around the truth. “I’m going to Harry Osborn’s fundraiser tonight, Alfred.” You said with a sigh.
“Then won’t you be needing this, young madame?” He asked, raising up your phone, with the red superman phone case facing towards you. “Of course! Thank you so much, Alfred!” You grinned jumping into his arms as he handed you the case. “You’re a lifesaver, Alfred!” Alfred smiled down at you before pulling away and patting your back towards the door. “Yes, of course I am, Madame. Now go have fun.” You lean up and kiss his cheek before nodding and leaving as Alfred locked the door behind you.
When you arrived at Harry Osborn’s manor, you were shocked. There were more people than you thought filtering into the house. There were press scattered around inside and outside of the place, but nothing that threw you. You were used to this kind of stuff, being Bruce Wayne’s daughter and all. At least you didn’t appear thrown. On the inside, no matter how many camera shined or flashed in your face you would never get over the anxiety of it, but on the outside, you were always the composed and calm daughter. And that’s how you appeared now as you made your way inside.
You were stunned when you saw his ballroom. It was incredibly large, and again, you had been to tons of places with large, beautiful ballrooms, and none of them ever really compared to Bruce’s at home, that was used for galas, balls, and events at his own home, but his was still pretty and large. There were a few tables set up where mostly older people were sitting down and talking, there was a little bar posted in the far right corner of the large room where adults were also drinking and mingling, and others were standing around the ballroom talking and mingling as well. There was also two large spiral staircases leading down from the top floor to the ballroom area. Bruce had staircases just like that I’m his ballroom too, except it was a bit more grand, but you loved this one just the same. It was much more crowded than you thought it would be.
On shaky legs you made your way over to the bar. These heels looked nice, but they were truly little devils. It was your first time walking in them and you were sure you looked ridiculous, but you were actually doing rather well. You tried not to kill yourself, and cause a scene in the process with each step you took over to the surprisingly large bar.
You had been there for around thirty minutes, and Harry was nowhere to be seen. You felt out of place among all these people. Older people with good jobs, lots of money, established places in society. You weren’t that far off, it’s just that you got a lot of stares from being so young, and you were alone. You took a deep breath, sat down in one of the stools a couple seats down from where a couple was drinking and laughing, and quietly ordered an apple juice in a wine glass. That way you would at least maybe look a little more like you belonged here.
The bartender was a female, around early forties who gave you a small smile as she poured your juice into the cup on the down low. You smiled back at her. She had red hair curled up to her chin, and slight wrinkles along her face. She was plump and a little short. She grinned. “Nice choice.” You crossed one leg over the other on the small stool you sat at. “Thank you,” You replied with a giggle. “It’s one of my favorites.” She was about to say something else to you when she was called over politely by an older male at the other end of the bar.
She walked over to him and took his order, leaving you alone again just like that. You had sighed and looked down, feeling all the nervousness and anxiety rush back again. Where was Harry? He was the one who invited you here in the first place, one of the main reasons why you came, and now he was nowhere to be found? He was thirty-five minutes past being ‘fashionably late.’ Your dark brown eyes scanned the room looking for him, but to no avail. You were becoming increasingly frustrated about it. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. You swirled the drink in your wine glass around before you topped it back and finished the whole thing in just two gulps.
“Easy there.” You heard a voice say. You turned your head ti the side to see a beautiful, goddess-looking women sitting beside you. She looks to be in her early/mid thirties. Wow…she’s insanely gorgeous. She has long jet black hair curled flawlessly. Her face is soft, but sharp around the edges, showing maturity. Dark eyes, but the way the ceiling chandelier and the little lights installed in the roof of the bar hits them makes them able to be recognized as a dark honey color. Thick eyebrows arched, lips full and defined perfectly, and coated with the perfect shade of bright red. Her skin is tan, and her accent is incredibly hard to place, but her voice is smooth and mature.
At your confused and mildly shocked look she just smiles softly and holds her hand out. Her nails are perfectly manicured red to match her lips, and the knee length red bodycon dress she wore, contrasting your dainty hands with shiny black polish. “Diana Prince, museum curator.” She smiled, as your dainty hand shook hers. You weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t keep your composure, (surprising right?), and you immediately blurred out, “L-Lana Lang, high school senior.” she laughed at the last part of your sentence. “You seem nervous.” She states matter of factly, and the sheer amount of woman confidence and power that radiated off of her made you even more nervous but you admired it.
“I am,” you admitted truthfully. “I was invited here by an…acquaintance, but he’s nowhere to be found, and this isn’t really my kind of scene and…I feel tremendously out of place.” You said, hanging your head with a sigh. “Is it that obvious, though?” You asked, and she smiled reassuringly. “Only if you’ve felt that way yourself before.” She says and you smile back at her, your spirits lifting a little. You sigh exaggeratedly and wipe a drop of fake sweat away from your brow. “Good.” She laughs again, and the nice bartender is back. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Diana tells the bartender, and nods her head towards you so she knew what you meant. The bartender laughs a little and nods. “You got it.”
When she hands Diana her drink, she takes a sip and arches an eyebrow at you, giving you a playful look making you snort and laugh a little. “I’m not old enough to drink…and I wanted to feel in place.” Diana smiled but scoffed a little making you give her a questioning look. She shook her head at you. “Why do you do that?” She asked, and you frowned in confusion. “Do what?” She sat a little straighter in her stool, if that wears even possible because you noted from the beginning that her posture was impeccable. “Act so unsure of yourself. I noticed you earlier, and you seemed so nervous and anxious. So uncomfortable in your own skin. You’re beautiful, funny, and you seem kinder and more good-hearted than anybody else here. That alone should be more than enough to make you tremendously confident in yourself. You ought to walk with your head held high.” She said, raising her perfectly arched eyebrow at you again and her words shocked you. She really thought that of you?
You had only just met her a couple minutes ago, and already she was praising your beauty and qualities and you accidentally wondered aloud how she could tell all of that from you already, to which she replied with, “I can feel it.” It perplexed you, but it brought a smile to your face. “I-wow…um, thank you. Nobody’s ever told me anything like that before. I think you’re beautiful too…you’ve got this aura of confidence and it’s…envious.” She smiled at you like she had known you forever. “Don’t be envious. You have it inside of you as well.” She stood up from her seat and grabbed her ‘wine.’ “It was lovely talking to you, Lana, but I must be going. And I think your acquaintance is looking for you. Remember what I said, won’t you?” She shook your hand again, and began walking to a small group on the other side of the room.
You nodded, still a little stunned, and turned to see Harry coming down the stairs and entering the ballroom. He was already looking at you when you turned around and met eyes with him. His eyes seemed to light up when you finally noticed him. He began making his way towards you, but he was stopped by quite a few people on the way. He plastered on a handsome smile and talked with them each until he was finally able to greet you at the bar. You stood up when he reached you.
His voice was smooth, with just a little bit of raspiness. “Hi, kitten. Miss me?” You had no idea how a man you just met was able to make you that weak in the knees with just four words and a smile. At the moment you were caught between your feelings that were at war. The half of you that wanted to schoolgirl and kick your feet and shyly stutter out a response, or the bolder you that wanted to place your hands on your hips, raise an eyebrow, and ask him just what was the point of inviting you here and then making you wait an hour for him to show up to his own ‘party.’ You settled for the latter, after remembering Diana’s words.
You stood up straight and arched your brow, giving him an unimpressed look. He looked down sheepishly but he still seemed to have such an air of arrogance around him. “Okay, I’m sorry, I got caught up with last minute business stuff and it couldn’t wait.” He said, giving you an award winning smile like that would instantly make you forgive him. And you hated how it did.
You sighed and nodded and he took a step back from you to run his eyes up and down your body, and he whistled before his eyes met yours again. “I knew you’d look incredible in this stuff…” and you hate the way that you blush and avert your gaze like a schoolgirl. He “tsks” and takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger and makes you look into his striking emerald eyes. “Look at me, yeah kitten? Lemme see those eyes.” *and the shocked gasp that come from your throat makes him smirk a little as he releases your chin and praises you when you keep your eyes on him. “Good girl.” He mutters, his eyes trained on your lips.
You were sure that you had serious daddy issues that manifested somewhere during the time you had met Bruce. Not having a great father figure in your life instantly gave you them and they were bad. The way he praised you and how you found yourself practically willing to do anything on the inside to hear more of it, after only knowing him for such a short amount of time confirmed your suspicions.
He wasn’t even that much older than you either, only around twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, maybe it was the idea that he was older even by a little. Maybe it was the idea that he was running his own business and throwing fundraisers and charity events and galas and balls. You weren’t sure but you were hopelessly attracted to it.
Harry had noticed from the first time he met you how adorably shy and weak you got when he called you nicknames, so he took it a step further here, and he was more than please with the results. When he got home from meeting you, the first thing he did was look you up and see if he could get anything on you. You had zero social media presence of your own, but you had a google page and there were countless photos of you with your other siblings at charity events, balls, galas, and fundraisers. Some at different places, and some of you at Wayne Manor. He also looked up all of your siblings to learn what he could about them. He found himself growing more and more infatuated with you since he met you last week.
He couldn’t wait to see you again, and he was pissed when his assistant had apologetically dumped more paperwork on him, telling him it had to be finished before he went downstairs. He wanted so badly to see if you had showed up. And you had, looking ethereal, no less.
He watched your hazy eyes snap back into focus as you remembered where you were and looked around to see if anybody had seen that, but it didn’t look as though anyone had. Everyone too caught up laughing and mingling amongst themselves to notice you with Harry. You took two steps back from him and smiled. “Hi Harry.” “Hi, kitten.” He repeated making you nudge his side harshly. “Shh! My name is Lana—“you didn’t seem to mind when I was calling you that before.” He chuckled with that same mischievous fire dancing in his eyes again. You weren’t sure just how badly you were going to get burned if you got too close, but if he kept being this alluring, you were going to have to find out.
“I’m glad you showed up after all. Wasn’t sure if you were gonna come.” He said as he looked to you. “I decided what the hell. Has nothing else to do, so I figured I’d entertain you for a bit.” You giggled, teasing him, but he just grinned a little. “Oh yeah?” “Mhm. Yeah.” You said, not taking your eyes off of his. He stepped closer to you and you waited for him to get close enough. What he deemed close enough, and suddenly you were grateful you had decided to sit in the back of the bar on the far side, secluded from prying eyes.
His wolfish grin never stopped even as he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close into him. Like he was testing the waters, and giving you time to pull away. You never did. And it made his heart swell, surprisingly so. Nobody had ever made him feel the way you did. And he was obsessed with it.
You braced your hands against his chest. He wore a black three piece suit and tie with a white shirt and the classic black shoes. “He looked good in a suit.” You thought. “How’s your side?” He murmured lowly, his cool breath fanning your face as he spoke. Your eyes still locked onto each others. “It’s fine.” He eyes your own eyes suspiciously. “Yeah?” He asks, still in that low tone and it’s absolutely killing you. “Yeah.” You mumble. He hums, as if in deep thought, his eyes still never leaving yours. “You sure? Cuz I could take you upstairs and we could have a look at it, make sure it isn’t bruised or anything. And then maybe I could give you something as an apology for hitting you. How’s that sound, kitten?” The way he says it is so unabashedly suggestive and in no way subtle and you’re really grateful that you’re in a more secluded spot. You giggled softly. “I thought you said inviting me here was an apology for that?” You asked, and he frowned before nodding like he did remember saying that. “Well, think of this as a second one. So what do you say?”
You stopped and truly considered it for a moment. The offer was so incredibly tempting and sweet, but there were a few factors that came into play regarding your answer.
One, Harry had literally just gotten down here to his own event, and while you didn’t doubt that he had probably ditched more than enough times, considering the way he was so ready to take you upstairs without a second thought, you knew it probably wouldn’t look good.
Two, you didn’t really see how you two could just escape upstairs without anyone seeing you and you didn’t need a headline in the paper, titled, “Bruce Wayne’s adoptive daughter Lana Lang, and Harry Osborn, now head of OsCorp seen going upstairs together at charity event.” Just really wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted to attract.
Three, you weren’t really too sure about Harry. Of course you were embarrassingly wrapped around his finger, but you were very smart and intelligent. You didn’t know Harry well enough to go upstairs with him, and while people had one night stands just like this all the time, you weren’t ready.
Four, related to reason number three, you were also a virgin, and you were positive you weren’t ready for that to change just yet.
You sighed a little and gave Harry a soft smile. He still patiently awaited your answer and had busied himself with taking in deep breaths of the perfume you had decided to wear tonight. A roses and wine scent that you had put on. It was far from what you usually wore which was more milder, softer, sweeter scents, but you wanted something a little more…adult today.
“Maybe another time, tiger.” You said, as he was leaning in probably to begin pressing losses against your neck, but he stopped when he hears your words. He gave you a little smile to let you know that it was no problem. “Alright…alright. God, you make me crazy, you know that?” He asked, like he was trying so hard to restrain himself. He took a step back from you and already you were missing the warmth of his arms wrapped around your waist. “Do I?” He just stared at you like this was basic common knowledge. Like this was something you should already know. He gave you a curt nod and took your hand, placing a kiss on it, as he steered you towards the crowd to mingle.
No matter how much Harry wanted nothing more than to whisk you upstairs and fuck you into his bed until you were seeing stars, he knew he had to take it slow with you. You two had only met a little while ago after all, and you might not be as infatuated with him as he was with you yet. That was okay. He would make sure that you were soon.
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After around two and a half hours of mingling around, talking with people, and raising awareness about the situation. The reason you were there in the first place you were both mentally and physically exhausted. Harry was steering you outside by the small of your back. You two had also gotten closer during the night and he invited you on a coffee date sometime next week, to which you had accepted.
You felt as though you really had made a difference. At the end of the night, a little before Harry had taken you outside, the number of money that would be put into renovating orphanages, and getting better care for the children there was a surprisingly high amount.
You’d had to tell your ‘story’ to lots of people there, explaining what happened to your parents during your childhood and how you ended up with Bruce now. Lots of people were inspired and put in even more money. A lot of them really weren’t as snobby and stuck-up as you expected them to be, however you did run into a couple of assholes like that. One of the people you spoke to regarding your life experience was Diana, and when you told her who your parents were she didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. When you asked her why not she explained that she had known your parents, specifically your mother and they were rather good friends before she passed.
She said that she had worked in your mothers company as her secretary and right hand woman until she got a new job, and that’s when she became a museum curator because she had a love for history and historical art. All this information shocked you very much and you asked her why she hadn’t told you earlier. She explained that she hadn’t truly recognized you until she started talking with you, and she realized you looked familiar but when you said your name, it confirmed her earlier suspicions that you were Eleanor’s daughter. She said she was planning to tell you all this but when she saw Harry looking for you, she decided she’d come find you later before you left. Which she did. She caught you when Harry was without you, talking to someone else.
You were very shocked and you asked her so many questions about your parents. She wasn’t able to answer many about your father, other than what your mother had told her in passing, because she hadn’t ever met your father directly before. But she said that when your mother talked about your father, she was beaming. Like she had been married to her soulmate. Hearing that made your heart melt.
She told you how strong, brave, independent, bold, fiery, and confident your mother was. But how she also had the capacity to be soft, and caring, and kind, and loving and compassionate and gentle. She was beloved by many of the women who worked in her industry and many were saddened when she left. How she lit up any room wherever she went and brought smiles to people’s faces, but how she could also make any who unjustly opposed her cower in fear. She said your mother was very shy, a sweet wallflower before the two met in college and how Diana had helped her grow out of her shell into the girl boss she was up until her death.
Diana explained how she didn’t even know that your mother had a baby. Since you were orphaned when you were a baby, Diana had been living in another part of the world for a short time, excavating something for her new job, and when she returned and heard the news, she was devastated. Diana and your mother kept in contact and frequently spoke just as often as they did before, even with Diana having a new job and moving away for a short period of time.
She seemed to feel so guilty about the fact that you were in such a terrible orphanage for eight years, and trust maybe she could’ve done something about it, having known your mother so well, and been employed under her. You asked Diana why, instead of your parents writing it down that you should go with Bruce, seeing as all your other family was either supposedly dead or unable to take you in, instead of perhaps going with Diana when your mother knew her so much better than she knew Bruce. You had always thought it odd, knowing that your parents were good surface friends with Bruce but not much more than that. You always chalked it up to you having nobody else besides him to go to…but now you knew about Diana. So why didn’t your mother send you with her? Life might’ve been so much less lonely and cold being with her.
Diana told you that her and your mother trusted each other a lot, but if there was one thing your mom was, it was selfless. She was stubborn in that kind of endearing way, Diana had said. She probably viewed it as saddling me with you when you were such a young age and my job allowed me to travel all over the world, but seeing as Bru—Mr. Wayne, (she had corrected herself, which you thought was strange but you brushed it off as her wanting to be polite especially since he was your “father.”) already had kids at the time. She said and it made sense.
However, Diana was quick to assure you that she would’ve loved to have you as her adoptive daughter no matter what. She said, it would’ve been a lively experience for the both of us, I hope. And that was something you truly believed. You and Diana ended up exchanging numbers, and she told you that you could talk to her about anything at all, any time at all. Knowing you had another friend made you happy. Maybe Diana could fill the hole in your heart with stories to your mother and her. Just maybe.
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Anyways, as said before, Harry was steering you outside by the small of your back, but when you shivered against the cool early-spring air he frowned. “You didn’t bring a jacket?,” he asked, “Dammit, I should’ve bought you one as well.” You cut him off by shaking your head and smiling. “It’s fine, I’m fine. I actually had a lot of fun tonight.” Harry have you a genuine smile at that, and then it turned into his signature arrogant smirk. He took off his suit jacket and placed it around your arms. “For the ride home. G’night kitten.” He said, and debated leaning in for a kiss, but decided against it. He just sort of squeezed the small of your waist before heading off back inside.
When you got home that night you were practically breathless. You weren’t really sure if your plan would go as planned in the beginning. If you would actually make a difference, but so many people there seemed so moved by what you had to say, and easily gave three times the moment they would’ve in the beginning just from you talking to them. It felt so good to do some to ing like that at your age. You were already helping people but you felt like you could do more. You thought about what it would be like to be a vigilante like the rest of your family. You had your heart set on that as well, and you were sure going to make that happen. But you did need a plan for that first. You couldn’t well just make a suit and go out fighting crime with no training. You weren’t fighting or killing machines like your siblings were, so you would need to train for a long time before you’d be ready for any of that. But that was later to come.
Right now you were just in bed and fangirling. So incredibly excited about what had happened today. So many new relationships has blossomed. You were surprised that so much could happen in just one night. Raising that much money, making connections with wealthy, powerful people, finding the truth about Diana and your mother, and you and Harry.
Harry. You thought about him a lot lately too. You wondered if what you two had might blossom into more, and maybe even love if you two continued to spend time together. You wanted something like what your parents have. How Diane a spoke about the way your mother talked about your father.
You wanted to be able to talk about someone like that, and in turn they talk about you the same way. You wanted to feel true love so badly that it hurt you. When you were old enough to learn about your parents and why you were with Bruce, you learned also that your parents were found the next day when someone took the w highway and called the police because of the broken rail. You learned that your parents both drowned in the car together, but that they were found holding hands over the glove compartment. They had accepted their fate, but they still loved each other so much, that even in death they were together. You wanted something like that. A relationship like that. You wanted to die for someone and someone who would die for you.
Be careful what you wish for.
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Sunday Cleaning
We need more prompts with the Batfam and Alfred and I won't stand this Alfred erasure no more. (Side note, I didn't mean to write this much. It was suppose to be like bullet point fluff prompts like my last submission damn it.)
Alfred loves Bruce as his own child and Bruce's kids as his own grandchildren. Do not get him wrong he loves them all. It is just that as an old man growing older, he is not as fit as he used to be. Can he still get a bullseye with his guns? Yes. Will he still be able to shoot at people threatening his kid, his grandkids? He can and will, but it won't always remain that way. Just an old man growing fear of not being as helpful in saving his vigilante family from criminals to sometimes each other. Luckily he is still fit for his age, and while his worsening health is a concern, it is a concern for the far future. And he has plans in place for when his body fails him, after all, Batman having plans for his plans for his plans was partly a learned behavior from him. In the mean time, he is still the sole butler maintaining a mansion with secret nooks, crannies, and a hidden Batcave.
His newest grandkid, Danny, seems so unsure of his place in the household despite his attitude. Sure he gets along well with his brothers and sisters and his father (costume or not), but it is the little actions of double checking if he can do something by side-glancing his siblings that hurts Alfred. The sheer insecurity of even sitting on expensive furniture when Alfred knows he was the one who personally told Master Danny stories of a young Master Dick regularly swinging on the chandeliers since he was eight, Master Jason's vandalism of the Batcar, and even being told of how Master Damien ruined the shrubbery by using them as target practice with his swords. Danny is acting a lot like how Duke used to be. Careful of himself and his powers because of knowledge of Batman's stance on metas in Gotham, and how fragile their own family seems because of their abilities. They all know they are still learning, and occasionally causing mistakes or having fritz, but they are still children scared of accidentally hurting their family. 
It is only Sunday evening and the vacuuming must be done. However, he will bring up his concerns to Bruce when he returns from Wayne Towers. But speaking of the devil ghost, there he is. 
"Hello, Master Danny. What seems to be the concern?" While Bruce is a self-proclaimed detective, Alfred does not need to be one to see when his grandkid has an issue they want to discuss but is unsure how. 
"Umm nothing, but since I'm here, do you need help? Like I can lift stuff or turn it intangible if it helps?" Alfred lifts a brow. Not an answer, but it appears Danny is not ready to talk. Maybe some cocoa later will help.
"Your assistance will be appreciated, young Master. I will provide hot cocoa and some finger food afterwords." He has raised and helped raised several growing children. The only difference between Danny and the rest is only an increase in appetite due to his powers. The vigilantism is practically a genetic trait in his hodge-podge family. (And practically no one in this family stays dead for long.)
He has been both the sole servant since the passing of the Mister and Misses Wayne and sole caretaker of Master Bruce. He has taken care of this home and the residents single-handily since. Despite never needing help for chores, he still does not need help just yet. He can and will still deny Master Bruce desire to help. Don not get him wrong. His child is a great hero, but his life ban of cooking in his kitchen (despite it technically being Bruce's kitchen) still stands. But if his grandson wants to spend time with his calm grandfather before he is ready to talk about his problem, then who is he to deny? (And having a grandchild who can lift and turn objects intangible will finally make cleaning those dusty corners a breeze.)
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olympeline · 2 months
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FrUK FACE family Parent Trap AU, part 4! Part 1
Alfred and Matthew have finally realised they’re long lost twin brothers. How do you cope with that kind of bombshell? In their case: by being very, very excited. Alfred especially just wants every possible detail about Francis and Quebec and machine guns Mattie with questions. Matthew juggles answering and trying to get his share of detail from Alfred about Arthur and New York. Neither of them get any sleep that night, not that they care lol.
The next day, they agree to keep their new found secret just that for fear of the adults finding out and making things difficult. Then more talking about their dads, every time they have a free moment. Neither of them can get enough. Eventually the conversation turns to the break up. Matthew says Francis never talks about Arthur, but he’s sure he still misses him a lot. Alfred agrees the same about Arthur missing Francis. Then wonders why they ever broke up if they were so happy and still haven’t gotten over each other ten years later. Mattie doesn’t get it either. The talk turns to their dads’ love lives and it’s here that Alfred casually brings up Uncle Tony, because - being Alfred - of course he’d take that long to remember him. Matthew is aghast, especially when he hears Arthur may actually marry this Antonio. He only just found his lost dad and now he may be getting a stepdad?!
Mattie asks what Antonio is like. Alfred shrugs and tells him Tony is…fine? He’s a good guy and his paella is great! Good at soccer too, maybe even better than Arthur. Yeah, Tony is a good guy, says Alfred.
Matthew can tell there’s a “but” coming. And he’s right. Alfred, with a little prodding, says that while Tony is fun to have around, he doesn’t think Arthur loves him. Not really. He likes Tony, likes him a lot, but…
Mattie understands. He knows Francis is lonely too.
There’s quiet for the first time since the big revelation as both twins think this over. Then Matthew shyly says he wishes he could meet Arthur. Now, before everything changes when he gets married again. Alfred agrees and says he wishes he could meet Francis too. Their eyes meet. It’s not sure who has the idea first - maybe they have it together? - but either way, they know what they have to do:
“We should trade places!”
“We should go live with each other’s dads!”
“Yeah! They’d never know!”
“We’re twins! It’s perfect!”
Once they’ve decided, it takes a lot of planning. The boys have to learn everything about each other in just a few weeks. Enough to fool the person who knows and loves them best. They drill each other on names, places, friends, family history and stories, etc. That stuff isn’t so bad, but a major stumbling block is how bilingual the Bonnefoy household is. Luckily they’re not starting from nothing as Alfred does French in school and his dad has always been extra on his ass about his French grades. Even more than usual. Alfred gets why now. More drilling, this time in French grammar and vocabulary. Matthew isn’t too confident by the time they’re done but Alfred tells him to take it easy. He can pull this off! Mattie isn’t so sure, but he’s willing to try anyway. He wants to meet Arthur very badly.
The last touch and big test is tweaking their appearances and seeing if they can fool their friends and the camp staff. They practice the other’s body language and way of speaking. Then it’s mirror test time. Alfred has shorter hair and a pieced ear (the latter done 100% without his dad’s permission lol) so it’s poor Mattie who gets the impromptu makeover. Alfred Kirkland coming at you while brandishing scissors and a sewing needle is not a comforting sight, but they manage to get it done with no major incidents. (It’s fine, it’s fine! Mattie only bled for a few hours, tops). They try out the switch at breakfast, breaths held, and…!
Success. Noone challenges them. As far as anyone else is concerned, Alfred was Mattie and Mattie was Alfred. Aww yeah! Operation Switcheroo is ago! 🇺🇸 <- -> 🇨🇦 🇨🇦 <- -> 🇺🇸 🤜 🤛
Before they know it, camp is over and it’s time to go “home.” The boys bid an emotional farewell, promise to keep in touch and help the other out if needed, then part ways. Alfred takes Mattie’s passport and gets on the plane to Quebec. Matthew boards the greyhound bus heading to New York. Both are so nervous all the ways it’s agony and they can hardly sit still. Matthew almost throws up eight times. Alfred actually does throw up, then pretends he didn’t when the kind air stewardess asks if he’s okay. The journey seems to last forever, but eventually the plane touches down and the bus pulls in.
Alfred steps out onto Canadian soil and looks around for the face he’s seen only in his secret photograph. He hears a French accented voice call Mattie’s name, turns, and sees Francis for the first time. Waving and coming to meet him with a beaming smile and a big, white dog on a leash. Alfred was sure he’d be okay, that he wouldn’t cry. He was wrong, but the tears were hidden and absorbed by Francis’s kashmir sweater when he swept his son up in a hug. Alfred hugs Francis back, breathing in his scent and feeling his silky hair tickle his cheek. This is his other dad. He’s hugging his other dad!! Francis feels Alfred shaking and is concerned, asking “Matthew” in French if he’s okay. And Alfred immediately forgets every French lesson he ever learned. He might have been found out there and then if not for Mr. Kumajiro distracting Francis by barking up a storm. This little one may look like their pup, but he doesn’t smell like him! By the time Francis gets him to calm down, Alfred has recovered. He hastily dries his tears, put on a Mattie-style smile, and tells Francis in French that he’s fine. Just got a little hayfever from all the flowers at camp. Francis says they’ll get some meds on the way home. As they walk to the car, he asks if Alfred enjoyed his first time at camp? Did he make friends? Was it exciting? Alfred grins and tells him: yes, yes, and yes again. He absolutely did.
Meanwhile, Matthew arrives in the crazy bustle of New York and is barely off the bus before Arthur appears to greet him. Mattie doesn’t get a chance to think before he’s swiftly hugged, and then held by his shoulders as his dad grumbles about various things while kneeling down and checking him over for injuries. A common occurrence when Alfred returns from anywhere further away than school. Mattie stares at Arthur, lost for words. This is his other dad. His other dad just came over and hugged him. Matthew feels his mouth go dry and his eyes well up with tears and has to fake a sneezing fit so Arthur doesn’t get concerned and suspicious. The hayfever excuse works twice in one day. Then Mattie puts on his best Alfred grin and asks, loud as he dares, if they can go get some food because that trip took for-ever and he’s starving! Arthur grabs his son’s bags and says sure, he’ll cook something as soon as they get home. As they head down to the subway, Arthur asks “Alfred” if he enjoyed camp this year? Did he see his friends again? Did he stay out of trouble? Matthew says: “You bet!” “Yes!” and “Nooo comment!” Arthur tuts but can’t help the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. He pats Matthew on the shoulder and Mattie has to act extra Alfred-style bouncy to stop the tears coming again.
Five hundred miles apart, Francis and Arthur are both surprised and touched when their son reaches out to grasp their hand on the journey home. Neither twin has done that in years, protesting they were too old for baby stuff like hand holding.
The hayfever excuse gets a few more uses before the day is out, and not just from the twins
(Stay tuned for part 5! (´ε` )♡)
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