#went for a walk down to the coffee shop with my coworker and she pointed out MULTIPLE FRENCH BAKERIES i didn't know existed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danime25 · 8 months

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Someone To Watch Over Me

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: Six had done everything right up until this point. Everything he did was in Claire's best interest. Who would have thought that he'd risk it all for a barista?

*Rating: +18 for explicit mature content

*Content/Tags: Smut, Slight Angst

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

Rain drops fogged the glass of the coffee shop. There wasn’t another soul in the restaurant except three baristas behind the bar. Two of them were having a semi-private conversation about their mutual friend, while the third… The third was where Six’s eyes went when something happened in the restaurant. When the door creaked, when an umbrella tapped against the floor, his eyes gravitated to her. He scrolled through his phone aimlessly and occasionally brought the warm cup up to the tip of his lips and drank the coffee that she had prepared for him. He had hardly even walked past the threshold of the store and there she was, with a warm cup waiting for him.

“I must come too often.” He said, carefully taking it from her grasp

“That’s okay.” She smiled at him, “We rely on regulars here.”

“Thank you.” He smiled back at her, “I’ll just sit over here at my usual spot, if you don’t mind.”

“Go right ahead. Sorry I can’t make much conversation today, I have some things I need to take care of.”

“That’s alright.” He took a seat and looked out the window. His gaze turned towards her as she hummed along with the song over the radio. He kept a cool face as he listened in to what she probably thought was between her and God. She never seemed to notice the way his gaze lingered a little longer on her than her coworkers, but that was okay with him. The less she knew of him, the better. He glanced at the watch on his arm, and noted how much time he had left before he needed to go and pick Claire up from school. Good. Plenty of time left.

“Another coffee?” She had snuck up on him, he jumped up a little bit in his seat

“No, I’m fine.” He shrugged it off, “Would it be too much to ask for a glass of water?”

“Not at all.” She scurried off and got him the glass a second later. He nodded and took a sip from it. He looked her up and down as she walked back behind the bar, noticing the fatigue in her steps. He went back to scrolling, and heard the door open and shut no less than four times. Probably a shift change, but she was still there. He came back up to the counter and the teenage girls ran to the back to go and gossip, leaving him to deal with her once more.

“I changed my mind.” He said softly

“Okay.” She smiled back at him

“Can I get… a coffee to go and one of those coffee smoothie things.”

“A frappe. Is it for Claire?”

“Yes.” He replied quickly

“Decaf?”

“Please.” She nodded and got to work on the new order. He stood waiting on the other end of the counter

“You could have stayed over here. When it’s this slow I don’t mind handing the drinks to you.”

He wanted to argue that it’d breach etiquette, but also didn’t want to be rude so he scooted back across so that he was facing her as she pressed the coffee down into the filter.

“Other than me, how is business going?” He asked to make small talk

“Good… good actually, I don’t know if she’d be interested, but I have a bunch of kids going off to college, and I’d be happy to hire Claire.”

“I’d have to ask her.”

“I’ll even let her keep the tips she earns.” She joked with him. He gave her a half-smile but couldn’t give her a firm commitment. He’d have to check with Claire first, then make sure that she had a good balance between school and work. Already he was getting too far ahead of himself. “There’s the coffee.”

“Thank you.” He took the cup from her as she handed it off to him. She excused herself and stepped away to find a back-up syrup for the drink Claire liked. He waited in silence for her to come back, and matched a look with one of the other girls working there. Probably around Claire’s age. She covered her mouth with her hand and said something into her friend's ear after breaking eye contact with him. Her friend laughed, before also going to hide her mouth behind her hand. He heard the back door alarm go off and go off again a second later.

“Sorry, I had to break down a box.” She apologized for her longer than intended absence

“I understand.”

“Let me get back to this then, so you can be on your way.”

“Okay.” She finished his drink quickly and put a lid on it. She handed it off to him and told him to have a good day. He replied back with a quick ‘You too’ and headed out the door. He drove to Claire’s school and picked her up, handing her the drink after she was settled in the passenger’s seat.

“Isn’t that shop great?”

“Yeah. Good coffee.”

“It’s okay to say you like something Six.” She rolled her eyes

“I like the store. Best coffee in this town.” He replied before starting the drive back home, “You know that barista you’re friends with?”

“Yeah?”

“She…” He was about to tell her about the job offer, but realized rather than get her hopes up and risk having someone find Claire Fitzroy he put his foot in his mouth. “She’s also nice.”

“Yeah she is, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” He let out a little sigh. He’d been holding his breath in longer than he had realized. They pulled into the driveway of their little home and Claire rushed off to go and relax in her favorite spot in the backyard. Six picked up his coffee and was about to bring it in, when realized that he must have finished it while driving. He sighed and took the cup over to the trash can. He looked at the bottom of the cup before tossing it, and saw that it was a note from the gossiping girls.

“She likes you! XXX-XXXX” He threw it harder into the trash can than he intended but knew that he couldn’t give into the feelings that made him a man. No, first and foremost was Claire. He couldn’t take another chance. He had barely managed to keep her safe once, if someone from the agency found her and took her away? Fitzroy would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself. This was a part of what he promised when he joined the Sierra squad. His life was not his anymore. He let out a heavy sigh and went into the house. He looked out over the kitchen counter at Claire before looking back down at his hands and started mentally preparing himself to make dinner. The rest of the evening went as normal, Claire told her adoptive father about the school day, talked about a particular story she had been working on in her creative writing English class, and he told her about the minute errands he had run. They wished each other good night and this pattern continued. Every three days like clockwork, Six would show up at the cafe and talk to her. Sometimes Claire would be in tow, there to study somewhere different. She never brought the job offer up again, despite Claire and her chatting for nearly an hour every time they came in to visit. He decided to ask her about it one day.

“Did you ever get any more kids to work here?”

“Yeah I got a couple, they’re not great but it’s better than nothing.”

“That’s good… if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Yes?” She looked up from the latte she had just finished pouring foam on

“Why didn’t you ever bring the job up with Claire?”

“Well. I figured you had told her, and she wasn’t interested. I didn’t want to press the issue.” She replied so nonchalantly. Maybe he had misread her feelings for him. Maybe there wasn’t anything there but a rapport between a worker and her regular customer.

“I…” His voice trailed. He almost told her the reason that Claire never applied, but decided it’d hurt less if he just gave her a quick ‘Thank you’ instead

“You’re welcome.” She replied automatically, placing the drink at the end of the bar for the other customer. She wandered back to him and leaned against the counter. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart from one another. Six backed up so as not to invade her personal bubble of space.

“Hey.” One of her male co-workers said and touched her shoulders. Six could tell that he made her uncomfortable by the way her shoulders folded underneath his touch. Six looked quickly at him but the guy didn’t seem to pick up on the ‘I will hurt you’ vibes that Six was putting down. “We really need you working on drinks. A lot of soccer moms just pulled into the lot.”

“Okay.” She said, wriggling her way away from the man and getting back to work. Six sat down in his normal spot. She made the drinks as the order came rolling in, like it was as simple as breathing. He breathed through his nose and attempted to keep himself in his seat and not absolutely demolish the guy behind the bar as he came up to the soccer moms and bragged about how it was hard making all their drinks. She quietly stepped to the side and let him take all the credit for her work, which made Six disappointed. He didn’t talk to her much the rest of that day, as she was busy serving, waiting hand and foot on the entitled women but he did manage to throw a 10 in the tip jar for her. Whether she’d actually see it and knew it was from him, it was anyone’s guess but he wanted to make sure that she felt appreciated. It’d be a couple of days before he came back and when he came in, he noticed the guy visibly upsetting her. She looked up at the door as it made its usual noise and seemed to smile at him. Not like she was being saved by him. She stepped aside and went to take Six’s order, this time requesting a new, and time consuming drink so that hopefully her coworker would leave her alone. They talked about how Claire was doing in school, what she wanted from the future.

“She’s a really sweet girl.” She remarked when she had finally finished her drink

“I’m proud of her…” He said

“You should be. You raised her well.” “She’s… thank you.” He nodded and went to his normal seat. He kept the corner of his eye open in case she was bothered again. She walked from behind the counter to start sweeping around the dining room. After he had been sitting there for over an hour, he saw her leave for the bathroom. He immediately got up from his chair, and he made the walk over to the bar in what probably looked like one stride. “She’s not interested in you.”

“What?” The other barista asked him

“She’s not interested.” He said, more firmly, “She’s just too polite or bound by being a nice coworker to tell you to fuck off. But I will. Gladly.”

“What? You think you know her like the back of your hand because you’re in here once a week?” He laughed at Six, “She’s more than just your eye candy.”

“I know that. All I’m saying is, nothing she does is with the intent of being your eye candy.” Six replied

“Let’s take this out back if you think you’re such a white knight.” The dude threw off his apron. Six huffed and said,

“Leave her alone. Or else.” Six walked out of the shop. When he got into his car he saw that the man was keeping a distance from her. She looked out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her savior, only to be greeted by the empty parking lot. She made a point to mention it the next time Six had visited.

“Thank you.” She says, handing him a mug. “Extra whipped cream on the hot chocolate.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at her before taking a second to process what she said, “What are you thanking me for?”

“Mark’s been off my ass more lately… and it’s because of you. He seems terrified of you. I had to move him to the night shift, actually, because of it.”

“That’s a shame.” He smiled at her

“A shame.” She agreed with him, “I’m about to be off… do you mind if I sit with you for a little bit?”

“I don’t mind. Come join me whenever you’re free.” He offered to her

“Thanks.” She smiled and went back to work. She seemed to speed through everything it was that she needed to do before clocking out. The last thing she did was make herself an iced mocha and sat down across from Six in the other, equally comfortable, chair. She let out a deep breath and eased herself into the chair. “I finally have a vacation tomorrow and I haven’t packed anything.”

“You should work on that.”

“No, I like packing at the last moment. Makes me less likely to forget things. Until I remember things I forgot on my trip.”

He tried to hide a laugh behind the rim of his cup, but it was no use, she could see him plain as day. She smiled and looked down at her feet.

“Anyway, I’ll be fine.” She reassured him, “It’ll be a nice change of pace from here.”

“Where are you going?”

“My family and I go on a yearly vacation together. Though this is the first year I’m going in a while… got too busy with the coffee shop to bother asking off.”

“Hopefully, they’ll appreciate your effort to meet with them this year.”

“Thank you, I hope so too.” She replied. Conversation with her flowed so seamlessly, she talked about her family. Six kept hiding behind questions and stories about Claire that Fitzroy had gladly volunteered to him, but it felt like he knew the essence of who she was from just that talk. That and the many other talks they had when she had a free second, in between drinks.

And still… It wasn't enough for him. He wanted to see her more. He wanted to walk in with Claire after a day at school and she’d be there waiting for them. She’d hold Claire like she was the most important thing in her world and when Claire went to the backyard, she’d kiss him like it’d been years since they had last seen each other. With a tenderness he knew he’d never know. A touch he’d never feel. He had to dash these thoughts. He placed his hand over the pocket that he would normally have a pack of gum, and felt a noticeable weight missing.

“Is something wrong?” She asked him, seeing the almost fear brewing in his eyes

“No. It’s fine. I just need a piece of gum.”

“I don’t have gum, but I have a pack of breath mints.” She offered him the option

“That’ll work. Where are they?” He asked, sitting at the edge of his chair ready to go at her beck and call

“No, you don’t need to get up. And they’re in the employee area.” She apologized and went to the back before coming back with the tin can, “Brought a couple, just in case.”

“You’re a life-saver.” He thanked her

“It’s nothing. What’s it you say to Claire? It’s just another Thursday?”

“Yeah.” He was shocked that she had picked up on the phrase he used between him and his daughter

“Yeah. I like that. It keeps me grounded in a way. Reminds me that things will get better.”

“That’s not really what it means.” He started to explain

“What does it mean to you then?” She looked at him

“It’s more of… ‘I’m okay, I’m living’.”

“But it grounds you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It does.” He pondered the thought for a second. Her phone buzzed and she caught a quick glance of it before resting her bag on her shoulder

“I’m sorry, I need to go.”

“You’re going to pack?”

“Yes, actually.” She swiped her bangs back behind the back of her ears, “Bye.”

“Bye, I’ll see you when you get back.” He said it in solemn tone that turned it rom a statement to a promise

“I’ll look forward to it.” She shook her head once and walked out to her car, his eyes keeping a constant line of sight focused on her until he knew she was pulling away safely. He sat in silence for another moment before the usual crowd of school kids filtered in. He got up from his seat only to see that Claire was just outside the door. He looked down at his watch and realized that he’d been late for pick-up. He dashed out the door and apologized to her.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, I just took the bus here.” She placed a hand on his shoulder to calm his anxiety over the situation

“Should we go home?” He asked

“Where’s…” She started

“She left. I mean, she’s done for the day.”

“Aw man. I made her something.”

“What did you make?”

“It’s just a little pencil cup.” She pulled the ceramic piece from her backpack, “But I thought she’d like it for organizing her sharpies.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.” He held his hand out and she let him inspect it, “We’ll have to give it to her when she gets back.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s going on a vacation.” He replied

“Aw.” Claire sighed

“It’ll be okay.”

“Who are you telling that to? Me or you?” Claire raised an eyebrow

“You, obviously.” He scoffed and got into the car. He went back the next day just to make sure that she was actually vacationing and not just tired of seeing him. That and he was a little worried work would force her to come in anyway. He got his normal drink but it just wasn’t quite the same. It didn’t leave him in a very contemplative mood, so he packed it up and drank the coffee back at home. For the first time in months, he was able to attend to some projects he’d been neglecting in favor of getting coffee. He and Claire visited the shop a couple more times during her vacation, but even Claire agreed something was off without her. When she returned it was like she had never left. Six entered the shop and before he could say anything there was a coffee cup in his hands.

“Welcome back.” She told him

“I think I should be saying that to you.” He replied, taking a sip of his drink, “How was vacation?”

“Nice.” She replied. “Talked a lot about life with my family.”

“Ah. That’s always fun.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” She shrugged it off, “How was it here?”

“Quiet.” He replied

“I suppose not much would change whether I was here or not.”

“Claire missed you.”

“That’s sweet of her.” She grinned

“I’ll bring her by tomorrow. If that’s not too much trouble for you.”

“No, it’s not a problem. It’d be nice to see her actually.”

“Sounds good.” He went and sat down in his chair. He listened as it seemed like there was a small argument in the back and saw her walk towards him, but kept her distance. She had her coat resting on her forearms and her bag slung on her shoulder.

“Sorry you heard that.” She apologized to him

“It’s okay, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just had a little cough. It’s not a death sentence.” She crossed her fingers, “But my boss just wants me to take better care of myself.”

“Since when has she worried?” Six asked her

“My vacation wasn’t all time spent with my family.” Her eyes darted away from his

“Oh.” He said, “You don’t have to say anymore.”

“Thank you.” Her voice broke quietly, “So yeah. I’m just going to go home and recuperate.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Drive her.” Her boss shouted from the back, “I’ll drop her car off later.”

“Are you sure?” Six yelled back

“Yes!” She replied. The barista sighed and Six escorted her to his car. She got in the passenger’s side and rested against the headrest. He slowly put the car in reverse and drove around town. He was about to make the turn off the freeway to his house, but realized that it wasn’t Claire in the seat next to him. He looked over, ready to ask her where she lived, to see her head drooping to the side by the window. He didn’t want to wake her up, and only had a half an hour before pick up, so with a heavy sigh he drove towards Claire’s school. He pulled into a spot and saw her shift her weight, but she was out cold. He thought maybe stopping the vehicle would wake her, to no avail. He turned on the radio and flipped it to something calm. The rain started to drip down along the side of the vehicle. Quiet… safe. He felt at ease. Claire came running and nearly screamed when she saw a body laying in her normal seat. He opened the back door and she hopped in.

“What’s she doing in our car?” Claire asked

“Her boss asked for a favor from me.” He replied, “Said she was sick.”

“Do you even know where she lives?”

“No.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I was going to keep driving.” He started the car back up and saw her move. She rubbed her eyes and looked up

“Where am I?” She yawned and looked around. When she saw it was Six she seemed a little less panicked but was at the very least still confused

“You’re in my car.”

“Oh.” She replied, “Sorry I fell asleep. Did I keep you for long?”

“No.” He responded

“Good, I’d hate to be a burden.” She sighed, “Here, can I use your phone?”

“Why?”

“So I can pull up the directions to my place. I don’t know where we are.”

“Okay.” He unlocked the phone and pulled up Maps for her to use. She punched in the address quickly and started the directions. He followed it to a tee.

“Thank you…” She said as she stepped out of the car. Rain fell on top of her head and the inside of door

“You’re welcome… Get some rest.” He told her in a tone that sounded more like a command than a statement

“I will… Good night.” She closed the door behind her and made a mad dash for the door of her building. Six sighed and started the car back up and drove them home. Claire pulled the cup she had made and put it in her back for the next time she went to the cafe. Six went back the next day and saw she wasn’t there so he paid for his coffee and left. This went on for two more days afterwards. When she was back she looked so happy… What had changed? He cautiously opened the door and she turned to face him. She smiled at him with the radiant smile he had come to love and handed him his drink.

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. I never got to thank you properly.” She said, and pushed a small plate holding a cookie towards him, “It’s not a note, but I thought you’d like this more.”

“It’s appreciated.” He took the plate in his hand over to his spot and sat down. The mood had shifted in the shop. It went from a bubbly warmth to something else entirely. He couldn’t put a finger on it until someone messed up the store playlist and changed it to something he’d never heard before. One of her co-workers pushed her up to Six and made her sit down across from him.

“Sorry… everyone’s been acting weird.” She said, she wasn’t able to look even in his direction

“Is something wrong?” He asked, looking directly at her. He shifted his weight in the chair to give her his full attention

:Well I couldn’t help but notice how often you come in here. But I don’t want to assume anything.” She started. He didn’t want to hear the rest of what she had to say. He knew he couldn’t offer her anything. So he stood up. He noticed the girls on the other side of the bar watching the two of them and quickly walked out of the coffee shop. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. She sat in the seat for a second but ran out to the car before he could get in. “If you don’t like me that way that’s okay… but just don’t let me keep my hopes up. Are you seeing someone else?”

His chest heaved. No lie he had ever told, no words he would ever say to anyone would hurt as much as the next pathetic puffs of air that came from his mouth.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Her whole body crumpled in on itself, “I’m sorry if I interpreted that this was anything more than a regular and a barista.”

“Bye.” He replied curtly and drove off. He couldn’t go home, he couldn’t face Claire and tell her what he had done.

But everything was for her. For her safety, for her protection. She would be another liability. A loose string that would lead all the way back to him and Claire. He couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t lose Claire. He couldn’t tell Claire that a woman was more important than their bond. He went back and forth in his head trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing. No level of cognitive dissonance or self-justification seemed to ease his worries. He found himself heading back towards the coffee shop and decided to watch from afar. She was leaving the shop, but in the doorway she was being held by her manager. He didn’t have a clue of how long she had been standing there but her body looked limp. Her boss took an arm and slung it over her own shoulder, guiding Six’s barista to her car. She helped her get buckled in and started backing up. Six used this opportunity to get away, heading home. Six didn’t go back to the coffee shop. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore. He had to try and let go of her. It was for Claire’s safety. He focused on these thoughts. He focused for days. Claire noticed that he’d been avoiding the shop and took matters into her own hands. When she opened the door, the barista turned around and smiled.

“Hi Claire.”

“Hi.” She smiled back, “Can I get a frappe?”

“Of course.” She made the drink and handed it to her

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean how are you? I haven’t seen you in over a month.”

“Oh.” She nodded, “Nothing much. Shop’s still the same as ever. I made some changes to the playlist. You’re in here often enough I feel like I can ask. Any music you want to hear more of?”

“You should add ‘Silver Bird’.” Claire suggested

“Let me go get the tablet.” She shuffled off and came back with the device, “If I don’t add it now, I’ll probably forget it.”

“Let me see.” Claire held a hand out and she gave the tablet over, “This one.”

“Thanks. Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of right now.”

“Cool.” She smiled and took the tablet back to its charging station. Claire used the second she was in the back to look around the store. It was dimly lit by artificial light, but more than made up for it with natural sunlight. She could see her dad sitting there and working on his phone. She came back and started cleaning up the espresso machine quietly before asking Claire. “How’s school going?”

“It’s going well. Oh! Here, I’ve been holding onto this before you went on your vacation. Hope you can use it here.” She fished the cup out from the bottom of her bag

“Oh god, this is so nice… you didn’t have to do that.” She took the cup and almost hugged it against her chest

“I wanted to… everyone else made something for their moms.” Claire looked down

“Oh.” She looked down at the cup that was so clearly meant for her and wanted to give it back to Claire. After all, shouldn’t she have done something for Court’s girlfriend? Claire sensed her apprehension and reassured her,

“I just don’t have a figure like that in my family right now… but the teacher was adamant.”

“Oh ew.” She laughed, “I hate it when teachers think they know better.”

“Yeah.” Claire smiled. Now that she was at ease, she tucked the cup behind the register and got back to work

“I hope you weren’t carrying it around for too long.”

“No, I had it on my shelf while you were gone.”

“Okay good. It’s lovely, but it looks like a pain to carry on top of textbooks and laptops in your bag.”

“It’s not that bad.” Claire shrugged. She felt her phone vibrate and looked at it. A message from Six.

“Where are you?”

“At… the coffee shop?” She said out loud while typing

“Hm?” The barista’s head perked up as she heard the noise

“Just texting my dad. I kind of skipped out on pick up.”

“Oh. I’m not going to get in trouble for having you here am I?”

Claire shook her head, “You’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” She gave her a half-smile and went back to her work. Claire kept looking at her phone, timing Six. On a normal day it’d take the two of them 20 minutes to get to the coffee shop, but she figured it’d take him fifteen minutes. As she looked, he was at 10 minutes. Five minutes later he entered the shop. On the dot.

“Claire.” He said, “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry. I know I should have told you, but I was about to miss the bus here.”

“You could have texted me.” He huffed a little bit before looking over at the barista and apologizing, “I’m sorry about this. I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“No it’s okay, I’ve missed seeing her.”

“And me?” He raised an eyebrow

“I don’t mind seeing you either.” She replied, “I already made Claire something, do you want anything?”

“Sure.” He nodded and she made him a drink. He took it carefully from her grasp and took a sip from it. It was still perfectly made. He sheepishly looked at her and said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She replied. He noticed her phone light up from behind the bar. He saw a quick name that definitely belonged to a man before the screen turned dark again.

“We should be going.” Six said after a minute

“Okay.” Claire sighed, “See you soon.”

“See you.” She smiled at Claire, “And… don’t be a stranger again. I miss having someone to talk to.”

“Okay.” Six replied and went out to his car. Claire followed behind him and got into the car before talking with him

“What’s going on?” She asked him as the car quietly revved up

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why are the two of you so icy?”

“It’s nothing Claire.”

“No. Six. Tell me what happened. You go one week from talking with her and driving her home, to getting out of the cafe like you’re running from a grenade. Tell me.” She demanded of him

“Alright, fine.” He exploded, “I lied to her.”

“What did you tell her?” She asked him again, her tone raising. He pulled off to the side of the road and stopped the car

“I told her I was seeing someone else!”

“Why?!”

“Because I couldn’t risk anything for your safety!” He looked at her. She looked back at him with blood boiling in her eyes.

“Don’t try to hide behind me for how you feel! If you don’t like her that’s fine but don’t tell me it’s for my own good or it’s to keep me safe when you’re too afraid to let someone near you!” She screamed. The silence in the car hung for a solid minute before he started the car back up. No words were exchanged between the two until they got home. “I know… it probably wasn’t right of me to say that Six.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t.” He said back, quickly

“But you told my uncle you’d do whatever it took to protect me.”

“I did.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to act like I’m a glass vase, and anyone getting close to me or you will break me.”

“I…”

“Don’t. Just go make this right.” She turned around and went into the house. He threw the car into reverse and went towards the coffee shop. He walked in to see that the girls were gossiping.

“I don’t know, if I was her I would not have been able to handle it that well.”

“Well that’s just because she’s so nice.”

“Girls.” He said in a low voice that made the girl who was facing away from him jump a foot off the ground

“Oh it’s you.” The girl that was facing him said, “I know it’s not really professional of me, but you’re kind of an assh…”

“I know. Spare me. Just… Could you tell me where she is?”

“She’s off.”

“I know that… You know what, I'll go look for her myself.” He stormed back out and started driving to her apartment. He saw her outside her apartment with an outfit on, much fancier than what she’d wear to the cafe. He made sure the car was parked safely before slamming the door shut. The noise startled her a little bit as she was about to get into her car. She looked behind her and saw him walking up to her.

“Court?”

“My name is Courtland Gentry. I am the adoptive father of Claire Fitzroy and I was assigned as an agent to protect her on orders from my superior officers Margaret Cahill and Fitzroy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I thought… to protect her I couldn’t let anyone near us. I didn’t think that I could find love. Or didn’t deserve it. That I was keeping everyone away for Claire’s safety. But then you came into our lives.”

“I… I’m about to go on a date…!” She yelled

“And I’ve fallen for you.” He yelled back, “I lied and told you I was with someone else to keep you away from me. But I still care about you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for weeks.”

“Court… Courtland.” She said with tears streaming down her face, “Just let me go.”

“Just tell me… do you still like me?” He asked. She remained silent for a second before saying

“Yes. I do like you.” She shook her head, “And it’s probably a mistake to be with you after all that’s happened, but I want to be with you.” He closed the distance between the two of them and pulled her into a kiss. She returned his kiss with an intense passion and pressed her hands up against his cheeks. He placed his hands on her waist and let his fingers sink into the fabric. She wrapped a leg around his back and he pressed his weight into her, making her stumble back towards the apartment door. She pulled away from him to open the door and pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” He asked

“I’m not rude, I’m going to text my date and say I won’t make it.”

“Oh.” He replied. He thumped the floor gently with his foot while he waited for her text to get sent. Waited in agony. What was probably only about 15 seconds felt like hours when Six was this close to having her. She tucked her phone away and ran down the hallway to her apartment. Six followed her and moved his hands back onto her hips as she opened the door. She dropped her keys and bent over, offering Six a wonderful view. She picked them up and he pressed his front half into her butt which startled her a little bit, forcing her to pick the keys up again. Not that he minded. She finally opened the door and threw her bag to the floor, tossing the keys onto the counter. She had hardly turned around to face him when Six picked her up off her feet.

He supported her with one hand on her back, her body flush against his, and let one hand linger up to her head. He ran his fingers through the roots of her hair and kissed her once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips. He threw her down on the couch first and straddled her. Underneath him, she ripped her clothes off over her head and worked furiously at unhooking her bra. He threw his jacket and shirt onto the ground next to them. She grabbed at the waistband of his pants and worked them down as far as she could underneath him. He finished the rest for her and worked on her. He moved in and pressed his lips onto her neck. Her arms snaked behind him and rested on his shoulders as he did this. The kisses were soft, but rough around the edges and desperate. The hairs of his beard tickling her skin with every gentle move in to close the gap between their bodies. One of her hands moved from his shoulders to rest up at the nape of his neck. She ran a finger along the straight line where his hair ended and his skin started. He shivered and begged for her to touch him like that again. She did as he asked and made him shiver once more. After he got over the goosebumps forming on his arms he took her hands off him and got up. She sat up and looked at him before his eyes darted to the door to her bedroom. She nodded and followed behind him.

She got on the bed and laid flat before him. He moved quickly to get up on top of her again and thrusted into her. After he bottomed out he started off slow and watched her face to see how she was feeling. Her eyes shut for a second as she adjusted to the feeling, but opened her eyes back up when she got used to it. She looked back up at him with a look that told him to keep going. His pace remained slow for a bit as he tried to make sure he wasn’t pushing her too far. Her hands ended up back on his shoulders and he sped himself up. He worked from a slow, controlled pace to fast but even-tempo. Each pump of his body was more rugged than the last. He needed to be closer to her. He leaned over her and propped his body against hers. Her hand moved to rest on his shoulder blades, then lower when she saw him wince. She arched her back as he hit deeper inside of her. When he had found that sweet spot, his pace sped up and his thrusts were more erratic. His voice went from soft words to broken grunts and groans as he slammed into her. She moaned under him and bit his lip as he kissed her. He moaned into her mouth as he came inside of her. He rode out his orgasm and held onto her tightly as his body went limp. He laid on top of her and wrapped his arms around the center of her body. She held him tightly and kissed his cheek.

“What are we?” She asked

“I want to be with you.” He said confidently, “If you’ll have me.”

“I want to be with you too… Court?” She sounded confident up until she said his name

“Call me Six.” He kissed her lips

“Six?”

“Yeah, it was my code name… Claire still uses it with me.” She nodded as he explained himself. He rolled off her and onto her side. She rested her head on his shoulder and let her head roll to the side and she kissed his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and held her close. She listened to his breathing as it slowed down and her breathing synced with his. Her eyes fluttered shut and he pressed his nose into the crown of her head. His eyes got heavy and he felt himself drift to sleep. He felt comfortable with her there by his side, and he wanted this moment to never end.

#the gray man #the gray man 2022 #sierra six #sierra six x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #my post #my fic #ryan gosling character

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alicewonderao3 · 5 months

Text

She didn't have time

Title: She didn't have time

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x original female character

Characters: Spencer, Emily, Rossi, Derek, Penelope, JJ, Aaron, Original female character.

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Summary: Aaron's bringing his new girlfriend over to dinner at Rossi's with the team, but she's anxious about meeting his coworkers and friends. Will she be able to charm them as she has him?

Author note: So I had this idea come to me while I was listening to a song. I know, I was inspired by music. So this is singlemom!original character, Alice. I wondered what that might look like, while I was listening to Terri Clark's She didn't have time. Its been a while since I've posted anything, life hasn't been kind to me, and I feel like I'm just struggling lately. I'm hoping things change, it being the new year and all, but I don't have much hope for that. I don't own anything, and I have no beta, so all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. Let me know what you think, and as always enjoy!

Word count: 796

I was nervous at the thought of meeting his coworkers. Aaron reassured me that they'd love me, but I couldn't help but clutch his hand in mine as we walked into the large home of his friend and co-worker David Rossi. I smiled warmly at everyone, even if they seemed surprised to see him arriving with someone.

Everyone's eyes landed on me as Aaron helped me from my coat, my pink dress a stark contrast to his black polo and jeans. Aaron had reassured me I looked fine, but the way they eyed me, I wasn't sure. He squeezed my hand and leaned down to whisper, "You look fine, Alice." I met his gaze, nodding as he dropped a soft kiss on my lips briefly as he led me over to meet them.

Aaron kept his large, warm hand on the small of my back, as he pointed to each person, who waved at me as he introduced them. "This is David Rossi and Emily Prentiss," The two waved at me, and then he said, "That's Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, and that is Spencer Reid and JJ." I waved at everyone, and as he went to speak to everyone and give David the bottle of wine we brought, the girls surrounded me.

They all seemed nice, and after a few moments, they asked about me. Emily leveled me with a look, "Alright Alice, tell us about yourself." I smiled, "Well I'm a preschool teacher." I said, as Penelope waved her hand and said, "What I want to know, is how you met and caught the eye of our famously stern unit chief."

The giggles from the rest said they wanted to know the same and I said, "Okay, well, I was shopping, my daughter was with my mama, when I met him. I had a flat tire and the parking lot was so crowded and I had no idea what I was going to do, and then he sort of appeared, like my knight in shining armor. Aaron was so nice, he got all my tools out and helped me change the tire." I said a warm smile on my lips.

JJ leaned in, "Oh, that sounds like Hotch, what happened next?" I smiled, "Well, he asked me if I wanted to go out for coffee, and I couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. We were having coffee together and laughing when he asked me about my daughter. I said, she's five. He asked me if she had my eyes." I said, which made all the women let out the same collective sound, their eyes moving to Aaron where he stood talking with Derek, Spencer, and David.

"I know, it was so sweet. My daughter Ellie and Jack are around the same age, so we set them up on a playdate and they loved playing with each other. He asked me out on a real date and the rest, as they say, is history. Ellie loves Aaron. And he's so good with her." I said, softly.

I pulled my phone out and showed them photos of Aaron and Ellie that I'd snapped over the weekend. "She insisted on having a tea party and he was delighted to attend," I said, as I showed them pictures of Aaron seated in Ellie's room, surrounded by her stuffed animals, with a pink crown on her dark curls, as she gave him a cookie on a flower plate.

JJ smiled, "Oh, she looks just like you," She said, smiling down at the picture of Aaron and Ellie, who had the same honey-brown eyes and dark curls as I do. "yeah, she looks like me. But she adores Aaron and Jack. She and Jack get along so well." I said as we wandered to the dinner table to eat.

The girls brought up his tea party with Ellie and I saw Aaron's cheeks flush as they good-naturedly teased him. "Yes. I couldn't turn down her offer. She was quite persuasive." He says as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. We've finished eating, and he grins at me. "She's like her mama, I can't say no to her."

The girls ooh and ahh over his comment, and on our way out, after promising to visit during the work week one day with Ellie in tow, I lean against Aaron as we walk to his car. He nudges me playfully. "What did I tell you, darling? They loved you." He says, dropping a soft kiss on my head as he opens my door.

I lean up and press a kiss to his lips. "And I love you, Aaron," I murmured, as his eyes held mine, with love and desire in his gorgeous brown eyes. "I love you too, Alice."

#aaron hotchner 💞#criminal minds #he’s so gorgeous #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x original female character #aaron hotchner drabble #inspired by music #first fic of the new year #going to be writing more for aaron this year

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boyswanna-be-her · 1 year

Text

Let me preface this by saying that I'm recounting all of this kind of mundane shit about BFR for myself because guaranteed I'm going to be trying to understand/recap this narrative while im lonely in colorado. And honestly I know it's gonna be easy for me to forget details and second-guess shit that feels so obvious to me in the moment. So if you don't want a blow by blow of this absolutely PG romantic relationship, just skip this one for now.

Today was really nice and the first day in a little while where I haven't had anything pressing to do. It was pouring at the clinic today--has been all week. Yesterday I sat in my front seat w BFR and we smoked a joint together and made fun of the one wet protester until the rain passed. Great morning.

We had lunch together at one of my favorite taco spots in my old neighborhood, and then we had to walk back to the thai place where we ate dinner the night before bc they'd left their sunglasses behind. We went to a coffee shop for a while where they patiently waited for me to be done with a working meeting on my laptop. Then we took a walk in the park in between rain. It was just seamless, idk. There's no question that we'll go do the next thing together. When the rain wouldn't let up at the park, I suggested we go to one of my fave places in the city, and I drove us to a giant used bookstore that was a few miles away.

I didn't realize until we got there that they'd never been before!! I try to take everyone I can there if they're from out of town, and it is ABSOLUTELY my favorite place to both take a new date and have a special date with an established partner. I don't feel guilty about taking basically everyone I've ever dated there--a good date is a good date. There's a lot of built-in conversation to be had and it's easier than a bar and free to wander around. We accidentally killed an enormous amount of time there, and we shot the shit about 20th century history which is my jam, so amazing to talk abt it w someone who can hang, READS, and doesn't have anything to prove in terms of static knowledge recall.

We hung out for a little while but they had yoga and I wanted to head home so we split up after that and it felt... weird? Like it always feels like there's this last step we are missing to our goodbyes. They forced a hug one time when we were saying goodbye from the clinic, but it was really early on and RIGHT when I was coming to terms with being attracted to them (like second time seeing them after having the realization) which means I was in ultra robot mode, and also assumed it was one-sided and they were just trying to be nice. Like I literally think I did a one arm side hug and they were so dejected they never tried again. Now we're weeks later and it feels weird that we're not kissing goodnight or something.

But I had the evening to myself and finally broke down and talked to someone from my real life about them. He was very affirming that I'm not insane, and just recapping the timeline to someone made it make more sense in my mind. I didn't even have to present half of my evidence for my friend to say yeah, that's going in A Direction. I just second guess it all for a variety of reasons, but for example when I screenshotted a text and sent it as evidence that I feel like they text me like a coworker sometimes, my friend pointed out that nobody in the history of neutral coworkers has ever crafted such a long and careful text. Which. Touche.

This morning we were back out at the clinic bright and early. My friend was supposed to join us but she couldn't at the last minute. Instead she dropped into the chat and asked if someone could fill in for her. If I didn't feel like we were already attracting attention (spoiler: we are), i would've REALLY preferred to jump in and say "noooo worries, no third wheel needed please." But we are getting a little visible. So I didn't. And BFR's friend jumped in to take my friend's place volunteering with us.

I ended up being really happy the friend was there though! The two of us are more like a couple when there IS a third person there, although the vibe can be a lot to navigate sometimes and I often have to shut down and take some time to myself. It wasn't unwelcome to have him there though. It makes the vibe between me & bfr more apparent, pronounced, whatever. We already have such a shorthand in common which 😍 wrow, communication fluency.

I invited his friend to lunch with us, and he accepted, and it was fun--I took them to my favorite Greek place which is legit like three blocks from the clinic.

Friend went on his way, the two of us moved to the next location: their favorite spot to work. I also love this location bc you can watch the afternoon rain and vape furiously on the porch without getting wet. Like I said, today was the first day in a while where neither of us had much to do in the way of work. They have been threatening to inflict their favorite board game on me for a while now, and it finally happened today. I am notoriously uninterested in board games (more like bored games amiright) but the combo of my biggest fan being excited to teach/compliment me on how AMAZING i am at it (rofl lying but ok) and the inherent fun of the game meant that I, uh, had a lot of fun, unfortunately.

We did two REALLY close rounds, and in the second game they almost fully missed a work call they had at 7:00 (I remembered bc i am insane but I also didn't mention it until 6:50 bc I thought maybe they were goofing on me and pretending like they'd lost track of time). Turns out they had been planning on muting and barely looking at the meeting anyway bc they didn't wanna stop playing--which is flattering but I'm also like "[Redacted], i already very much want the best for you, INCLUDING not becoming completely codependent and risking your living bc im so charming and fun" so there was a lot of me pausing the play and asking about the meeting.

By the time that was over, we were already butting up against the time we were supposed to meet their friends to lift tonight. We hadn't eaten dinner but they offered to feed me at their place which was perfect. We went straight back and holy shit their homemade leftovers were delicious.

Their friends came on time to lift and the first thing out of the mouth of the one who knows me better was "you and [redacted] have really been spending a lot of time together huh?" The two of us made eye contact and kinda laughed and BFR said "yep" and both made the 😬 face and the friend wouldn't let it go and repeated "you guys spend all day together now..." and my 😬 face couldn't get any more intense and he said "all day... today..." i said "yep we're pretty codependent." (I'd made the same not-joke yesterday when I was very truly pointing out that I don't remember what to do with my alone time anymore, and they not-jokingly replied "yeah we've ruined each other." Which like. At least we're aware.) Only later did I realize that BFR mustve been talking to the friend about it bc I definitely wasn't and there was no public talk about it in our shared discord so 👀 bitch i see u chatting in private abt me.

Lifting was incredible as always. Their friends who are a decade younger than us and sometimes join us, sometimes don't, really crack me up and I have such a good rapport with one of the guys that I think I lift better with him around (the one who was giving us a hard time tonight). He dishes out the abuse I give him while lifting, which I love. Between him and bfr, I feel like a fucking all-star lifter in that little garage gym. They talk positively about my form when they don't even realize I can hear them. Even so, BFR will not hesitate to call me out when a lift looks bad or I need a cue.

So yeah. It's nice. Hanging out at their place, being fed, getting let in on a LOT more inner details than I got in the first months of knowing them. That's all lovely. I always try to text them and let them know when I've had a lot of fun with them, and that's just basically turned into a nightly check-in. On Sunday, I got a very coworkery (imo) message from them about enjoying our time together, thanking me for my "wonderful company," thanking me for spending so much time together, thanking me for attending so many events with them, and saying that they are "definitely down to keep hanging out in the future." At the time I felt like "that's a weirdly formal way to put all this" but getting home to tonight's much more neurotic message made it make more sense (along w the feedback from a trusted friend who makes good points). Like it was a careful message because they are being exceedingly careful with me. They know some of my more obvious damage (all the psychic sucking chest wounds are hard to ignore after a few weeks of learning about me, and i've been going out of my way to be quite "warts and all" with them). They value our time together A LOT. And the more that I understand our similarities, the more I know that they're also likely really fucking scared to endanger the chemistry of this friendship by introducing ANY other dynamic.

Im finally getting to the end here. Tumblr will probably eat this entry. I'm posting it before a full edit--RIP anyone parsing this.

But the message that I came home to tonight was FINALLY a little more vulnerable, and essentially said that if I want to spend LESS time with them, I'm going to have to tell them that straight up, and that that'll be ok, but if so they need to lnow because this is the amount of time they want to spend with me (all of it), and they don't anticipate that changing.

So! Guess I'll puke and die now! Literally spent five minutes last night considering how I could smuggle them to Colorado with me. Also I haven't had anywhere to put this but since this is an all-bfr all the time blog now, we are going to go on a trip together to chicago in August! There's an actual reason to go other than lovefest vacation (pretty much a work trip for them that I've been asked to tag along for) but as we are actually finalizing the trip plans, it definitely feels more than a little bit like we are going on a lovefest vacation. Which is all the more reason why it would be great to not be hella conspicuous (even though it's a little fun being hella conspicuous).

Like I didn't need another human to come validate my existence, but I *did* need to meet someone who could threaten the idea that I'm ready to die alone. It's nice. It's all nice!! I'm definitely not crying and throwing up!!!

#i am not doing either of those things but i AM messy #the game is Class War btw #i felt like there were more items i was holding for the tags #prob just more conspicuous evidence that i am Liked and Cherished #if we ever get to the eventual reveal on this person idk what the reaction will be #theyre nothing like anyone i've ever dated physically #chemistry wise it's ridiculous #personality wise it's a win #i think the physical container they come in is part of what threw me for so long #I'm... not complaining that is not a complaint lmao #my biggest fan is more conventionally attractive than me which isn't RARE for my relationships #just like not someone who was on my radar on a physical level #until they started touching me all the time and making me feel like the only person in the room #bfr

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veryace-ficrecs · 1 year

Text

Stranger Things Modern AU

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

come what may (i will love you until my dying day) by emurph_24 - Rated M

“Robin, I got it,” he said, shakily.

“Got what, Steve?” She had just woken up and sleep still had a firm grip on her mind. Steve stood there in their tiny apartment kitchen, waiting for her brain to catch up.

“Moulin Rouge, Robbie.” Robin’s eyes went wide, the last bits of sleep leaving her brain.

“You got it?” she squeaked. Tears filled his vision as she walked towards him.

“I got Christian. I did it,” Steve whispered.

OR: Steve Harrington lands the role of a lifetime in his first broadway production. Nervous as he is, he is ready and mostly prepared. Until the world spins on its axis and the pit director turns into the love of his life.

the night breeze carries something sweet by asbealthgn - Rated M

Eddie is used to getting recognized in public, but it doesn’t mean he likes it.

That is, until the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life sits in the seat next to him, unfurling a giant map that easily shields both of them. Eddie’s fucking savior.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know how to get to Japantown, would you?” the guy asks.

Sweet tooth by Eddies_ArtofSuffering - Rated M

At noon, as expected, the doorbell chimes. Eddie’s head snaps towards the entrance, mouth falling open as Hot Steve walks in. Eddie shoos his coworkers away with a frantic wave, straightens his name tag, and rests his chin on his palm and bends over a little, elbow on the counter. It’s go time.

Or: a stupid coffee shop AU in which Steve takes his break from his bookstore shift at noon to come to Café Byers every day, and Eddie loses his mind every time.

caught my attention by sky_of_starflowers - Rated T

“Haven't you heard by now, King Steve?” Steve shudders while Robin laughs at him, the sound bouncing down the nearly empty hallway, a few kids looking at them funny. “Eddie “The Freak” Munson has made it big!”

Oh no, Steve thinks as Robin drags him along. “Eddie?” he asks, and something about his voice makes Robin turn back to look at him. “We’re going to see Eddie’s band?”

Steve kissed Eddie once, briefly, at a party before running away. Ten years later, Robin drags Steve to a Corroded Coffin concert in Indy, and Eddie sings a song about kissing Steve in front of several thousand people.

I Like the Cool Way You Look at Me (Everything About You is Bringing Me Misery) by DiscoSuperFly - Rated E

Teaching middle school and working on his masters degree has Steve sleep deprived and trudging through his weeks.

He tries out a 24 hour café on his best friend Robin's recommendation.

He can't help but become a regular when a tattooed, long haired barista catches his eye.

Paint Nights by AnnetheCatDetective - Rated T

Steve is looking for something for Dustin, but when he walks into the game and hobby shop, he sees something he likes.

Some Guy by MIA_MAX - Rated G

He's taking it in stride too, bless his heart. Just like every other thing people used to mock him for. Eddie remembers gathering the Party once a long time ago, before he and Steve were an item at all, and telling them stop calling Steve stupid. He remembers how fucking angry he was at them, because they'd looked so horrified when he told them that Steve really believed them, like they didn't drive it home every Goddamn time he asked them a question.

He's getting off topic. Point is, the people of the internet are berating the love of his life. Saying he's too boring, too tame, not worthy of Eddie, and he's having fucking none of it.

i could tell that you'd be on my mind tonight by anniebibananie - Rated T

The room clapped, and Steve watched as a man stepped out from somewhere behind a nearby bookshelf to approach the microphone. Edward Munson. Steve wasn’t sure what he’d expected him to look like, probably some balding middle-aged man with a beer belly, but it was just… a dude. A guy, probably around his age, with dark hair pulled into a low bun, fingers stacked with rings, wearing a Metallica shirt with dark jeans and thick combat boots. He was, well, he was kinda hot honestly.

Maybe Steve did understand why so many people were sitting in the crowd to get a glimpse of this dude.

When Steve gets dragged along to an event for the author of the Vecna's Curse series by Nancy and Dustin, he isn't expecting anything to come from the night. He's definitely not expecting Eddie Munson.

Somebody To You by tears_for_years - Rated T

@ bisexual_disaster: i would let eddie munson make me bark like a dog

Eddie Munson is in a famous band called Corroded Coffin. Steve Harrington is a fan who likes to tweet about how hot he is. Eddie sees King Steve from high school posting thirst tweets about him. He decides to give him a follow. What could go wrong?

for this gift, I do feel blessed by wheatisstillwheat - Rated E

Steve was supposed to be in Berlin with his best friend Robin, not wandering around looking for a coffee shop, not speaking a lick of German.

Steve definitely wasn't supposed to take the only open seat next to a beautiful, mysterious (sexy), and slightly pissed stranger at said coffee shop who cannot believe Steve wasn't angling for an autograph from him,

which Steve definitely isn't, because Steve has no idea who he is...

yet.

(OR Rock Star AU - in which Eddie Munson is a famous grunge/alt/metal band frontman and Steve is as clueless as we'd all expect. hi-jinx and love ensue.)

You Ahh Sooooo Byuootifuh by StarsHideYourFires - Rated T

Hey, you’ve got Robin. Or I guess you don’t, really. If this is important text me, but you can leave a message and I’ll get back to you eventually. Unless you’re my mom, then probably sooner! BEEP.

“Rob-biiiiihhnnn! Where are you? There’s a hah guy shtanding ow-side my room, and I don’ know where I am. I need you here, Robbie. Yuhv gotta hehp me! I’m gonna say somethin’ shtupid and ‘mbarrass mysel’ in front of the hod guy. Robin, come save meeeeeeee!”

Steve gets his wisdom teeth out and has trouble coming out of general anesthesia, much to Eddie’s amusement.

#stranger things fanfiction #veryace recs #steddie fanfic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steve harrington and robin buckley #ao3 fic recs #ao3

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aceofshitposts · 2 years

Note

How did Tim and Jason get together in the shutterbug au if he didn’t think much of him on their first date?

Aha, it wasn't actually a date! It was a gathering Stephanie dragged Jason to because it was around the time she decided she'd had enough of his wallowing bullshit about waves hand vaguely in the direction of Red Hood's quest for vengeance and then the sort of road to recovery he was currently on but kinda stuck in the :( everything sucks phase

Jason's social skills are, eeehh, Not Great at this point. Especially with civilians, Brown are you fucking insane I can't be around people.

Stephanie is not having any of his excuses you need to get out more and patrol doesn't count >:(

So he's dragged to a lunch meet up. Tim is there along with some of his and Steph's other college buddies and Steph is like hey everyone this is... My coworker, Jason.

And, listen, you gotta see this from Tim's perspective. Your ex girlfriend and current best friend has just walked up with God's Gift To Man except the dude is scowling like someone just killed his puppy. And then he turns that scowl right on you.

Meanwhile, Jason is basically a mess of anxiety from just having to be around Normal People and still mostly thinks of himself as some kind of irredeemable monster rather than a person. He's. Trying. He came to this stupid lunch, right, what more could Brown ask if him but oh God, Brown's friend Tim is very pretty and sharp and quick witted and suddenly Jason does very much want to be here because he wants to know more but also wtf is socializing

Stephanie is having a ball. She figured Jason would like Tim, Tim who doesn't put up with anyone's bullshit, who's got a comeback for everything, who's determination is a terrifying thing to behold, but she didn't quite expect Jason to go down that hard. She feels a little bad, watching Jason try haltingly to actually talk to another person with the thunderous expression of someone on a Righteous Mission while Tim keeps giving her little side eyes like, "really?? This is someone you hang out with?? Really???"

Jason tries to be a gentleman and refill Tim's drink from the pitcher. Except he fumbles because he's nervous and overwhelmed and spills the whole thing in Tim's lap. Honestly it wouldn't've been such a big deal except Jason goes into blue screen of mortal embarrassment and mutters a quick, horrified, "I have to go," and flees the scene entirely.

Tim, totally soaked in idk probably some cocktail mix, stares Stephanie dead in the eyes from across the table and yells, "what the fuck was that?!"

Stephanie laughs so hard she agitates a bruised rib.

Through her tears she tries to assure Tim that Jason liked him he's just an idiot who has been way too absorbed in his work for too long, which totally reminds her of someone else too hmm who could that be? Tim scoffs because he sure didn't act like it and maybe Tim still has a hard time believing when people like him but I digress.

A week or so later, with some (a lot of) nudging from Steph, Jason shows up at Tim's favourite coffee shop with flowers and apologizes for the lunch thing. He stumbles through a whole speech and asks Tim out on a proper date. Tim thinks about it for a while, making Jason squirm in the middle of a busy coffee shop where people are definitely watching and oh god he's about to be rejected in front of all these people this was a mistake, Brown was wrong and he should just stick to what he knows: shooting people's kneecaps --

"Yeah, okay," Tim says, a slow smirk spreading across his face, "but I'm choosing the venue and you're not allowed to pour any drinks."

Tim has not yet let Jason live down the drink incident.

They went to a classic dinner and a movie combination for their first date. To say it went well is putting it lightly ;)

#Jason has to begrudgingly hand it to Steph for helping him Get A Life #He will also attribute Tim with a lot of his recovery because dating Tim made him want to be better not just for Tim but for himself #astrix answers #shutterbug au #jaytim

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wambsgender · 6 months

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there's this customer who comes into the store pretty often and i didn't immediately put together that she was blind at first, but i helped her round, put her stuff in her bag for her etc. as soon as i realised. well yesterday she came in again with her dog and she didn't want to move down to the tills so we processed her transaction by running back and forth between her and the till, which took longer but hey we should accommodate where we can. couple minutes go by after she leaves and my coworker (who has been here much longer and served her many times) turns to me. "so. that is not a guide dog. she is not blind." WHAT. at first i think that maybe he's been a bit unfair, and that he means she's not *completely* blind but that her vision is still impaired. but then another colleague points out that her dog does not have a guide dog harness, or anything to indicate it is trained and working, but a sketchy looking and easy-to-miss tag attached to its collar. then this morning on my day off i went to a coffee shop nearby and i see her sitting by the window with her dog, reading the book we had sold her and watching people walk by. utterly baffling set of events

#i want to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe her vision IS bad but that she hasn't seen anyone officially about it????#but it really seems like she is being intentionally misleading????? girl that is not an official service animal!!!

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bobfloydsbabe · 9 months

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the secret joint task force between the usa + denmark has ordered more intel on linger chapter 3 (rhett abbott x oc) & mickey goes for coffee (fanboy x oc). it's a matter of international security.

Should I be sleeping instead of answering this ask right now? Yes. Am I going to ignore sleep and answer it anyway? Also yes. It's a matter of an international security, so how could I not?

Linger chapter 3 takes us inside Lou's head for the first time. We get to see the town and its people from her perspective. It's a long chapter because it has three separate settings: the rodeo, the bar, and Lou's cabin. The scenes in the first two locations are shorter, while the part in Lou's cabin is long. Rhett's drunk and touch-starved and there's only one bed. Here's a snippet of the cabin scene:

“I don’t like sleeping in these,” he mutters, gesturing at his worn blue jeans. “Then take them off,” she says, stepping out of the way, closer to the headboard. “I’m not your Mama.” He huffs out a laugh before standing. He toes off his boots, almost falling over, while Lou turns on the lamp on the nightstand. She busies herself pulling back the quilts and adjusting the pillows, so it’s ready for Rhett when he is. The sound of metal hitting the floor echoes through the cabin. Rhett’s standing next to her in just the black t-shirt and a pair of black boxer briefs that leave surprisingly little to the imagination. Her cheeks burn at the thought of what this moment would be like if he was sober. “Come on,” she mutters, gesturing to the bed. “Get comfortable, and I’ll get you some more water.” A grin spreads across his devilishly handsome face, and his hooded eyes half-focus on her face. “I thought you weren’t my Ma.” Lou rolls her eyes, but the smile remains. “I’m not,” she tells him and points to the bed. “But I’m a nice person who’ll get your drunk ass some water.”

Mickey goes for coffee is more of a general idea than anything else at the moment. Mei is at work thinking about him when he walks into the coffee shop like she's conjured him up. She's a blushing mess and when he leaves, her coworkers tease her about it to no end. This is what I have for that so far:

“You look like shit.” Mei looked up from the tower of brownies she was building in the display. Her co-worker, Sav, stood leaned against the countertop with her arms crossed and head cocked to the side. “Thanks?” “Did you stay late at the restaurant yesterday?” Mei straightened her back, sliding the display door closed as she did. “Natasha invited me to hang out with her friends afterward,” she replied and wiped her hands on the small apron. Sav raised a brow, pushing her red-rimmed glasses up her nose. “And you went?” Mei smacked her arm in mock offense. “All I’m saying is,” Sav continued as Mei walked around her to the espresso machine, “you’re constantly working and you deserve to let your hair down.” Busying herself with cleaning the machine, she tried not to crawl out of her skin at the barely concealed concern and care in Sav’s voice. She didn’t know what to do with someone who checked in on her well-being, someone who thought work wasn’t everything. That something had to exist beyond the classroom and workplace. “Did you have fun at least?” Brown eyes and a devastatingly handsome smile appeared in her mind, and the corners of her mouth turned up. They were all nice people, but that conversation by the bonfire had stirred something in her. Some hidden, long-lost feeling she’d been yearning for started bubbling to the surface, spreading warmth in her stomach and her limbs. His heat warmed her more than the bonfire ever could. Mei wiped her hands on her apron and turned to look at Sav. “I did,” she said finally, and moved around her colleague once again. She went to the back room to help Aimee make another batch of blueberry muffins.

Thank you for asking, darling. I hope you enjoy these little snippets from some of my many WIPs. Love you!

#mail #answered #joaquinwhorres #fanboy x oc #mickey fanboy garcia #rhett abbott x oc #rhett abbott

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 1 year

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Fragile Lines [Chapter Four] Mind Over Matter [Ignacio “Nacho” Varga]

Summary: In the aftermath of the Kettleman incident, Ria spends the afternoon with her closest friend, unaware that someone is lurking nearby.

Warning(s): recalling the past, implied break-in, worries.

No Minors Allowed!!

Ria bounced her foot like a bobfloat on the water as she waited outside the changing room in Chico's. She was somewhat impatient, wanting to spend her empty afternoon at home, rather than clothes shopping. Checking the time on her phone, she huffed in annoyance.

"Are you changed yet?"

"For fuck's sake Auntie. I just put my pants back on," thirty-three-year-old Everly stated with a laugh. "You act so much like her, I swear. It's like the both of you expect the clothes to just poof onto my body from the hanger."

Ria snorted and turned up her eyes.

"Or perhaps you are just slow."

The door opened and Everly sauntered out, pulling her red hair into a messy bun; the clothes she tried on were folded over her left arm.

"Where else do you have to be? You promised to help me find an outfit for my date tonight."

"I thought you meant at your house where the other 200 outfits you own are shoved in that huge walk-in closet you refuse to admit is another room," Ria retorted, standing.

Despite her desire to go home and lounge in bed with her pajamas on, Ria loved to spend time with Everly, her coworker in the maternity ward. She was a cheerful woman with a bright smile and a face showered with freckles. Children loved her and it was easy to see why; she was the most sociable person Ria had ever met.

"There is that McGill charm I know and love," Everly teased with a laugh.

Ria grinned and led her to the front desk, standing to the side as she handed her purchase to the cashier.

"Our family just oozes charm."

"Especially Jimmy. He's so damn adorable, like Kevin Costner adorable," the redhead declared.

If she had a nickel for every time a person told her this.

"I've honestly thought about breaking a crime just to have him as my DA," Everly added.

"He'd appreciate the business," Ria mentioned.

Too bad for Everly he had his eyes set on Kim Wexler, a gorgeous blonde with a bouncing ponytail and skills to rival his own. He just needed to reel her in before someone else did.

Leaving the store, the two walked across the lot and down to Starbucks for a coffee – for Ria, a hot chocolate. The line was backed up, but neither of them cared.

"Speaking of business," Everly brought up. "Whatever happened to that one case he was working on; the Kettlemans? I heard on the news that they returned home."

"They weren't exactly his clients, but he called me two days after they went missing and told me that they were just camping," Ria answered.

She opted to mention the phone call she received from Jimmy at the hospital, about them, she later learned. Ria all but broke down his door the morning she heard the news. She knew there was more to the story, but all he told her was that he believed someone was stalking them; according to the news, a suspicious van was sighted outside their house before they went missing, confirming his claim. But then the next day, the family suddenly reappeared.

"Everyone was making such a big deal about it. One rich family goes missing and the entire city is in an uproar," Everly pointed out.

It was a strange ordeal indeed. Ria wondered however if Jimmy had taken her advice. Their disappearance ironically took place right after he called her; it was one detail he left out when explaining it to her.

It doesn't matter now. Everyone is safe.

Ria took a deep breath; the issue was dropped for now. She approached the counter when it was her turn and ordered her warm beverage and then waited for the redhead to do the same. Everly curled up her nose as she sauntered toward her, drink and bag in hand.

"Who drinks hot chocolate in June? In New Mexico? Serial killers, that's who."

Ria snorted and turned up her eyes.

"It's a year-round beverage so you can kiss my ass. I don't judge you when you come running like a basic bitch when pumpkin spice is on the menu."

"Touche," the redhead replied, grinning.

The two walked back to Evelyn's Taurus and then left the plaza turning right on Wyoming Boulevard toward Central Avenue. Ria stared out the window watching the scenery go by as she the lyrics to 'Blurry' following along with the radio. Her apartment was only 16 minutes away, but she was more than eager to get home.

Passing 'Chocolate Cartel' on Juan Tabo Bulavard, Evelyn turned down the radio.

"Do you see that van a car back?"

Ria raised a curious brow and glanced over her shoulder through the back window. It was a good distance back, but there was a van with faded red and orange body paint; it seemed familiar but she didn't know how.

"What about it?"

"I think it might be following us. It left the plaza when we did and turned with us on Wyoming," Evelyn explained.

Ria snorted and rested her back in the seat.

"Scorned lover perhaps?"

"As if," the redhead stated with a grin. "I'm a wonderful lover and every man or woman I've broken up with walked away on mutual terms."

Ria laughed. The humorous part about this was she knew Evelyn was telling the truth. She didn't have it in her to hurt a person but she also would end a sour relationship in a heartbeat if she wasn't happy.

"So then it's a coincidence."

"Or perhaps they are after you. Jimmy could have made someone mad and now they are stalking you," Evelyn mentioned.

She didn't even consider this as an option. However, the strange events that transpired between them 2 nights ago came to mind and Ria frowned. Her brother said the family was in danger, but she never thought to ask how he knew. Perhaps the person who threatened them told him and she insisted that he call the police.

They'd never know it was me who told him to do it.

And Jimmy would never give out her name if threatened. Or would he?

Peeking back around the seat to the back window she watched the van continue to follow them. When they turned right on Central Boulevard, the van thankfully continued straight on Southern. Ria sighed in relief. She narrowed her eyes and turned them to Evelyn.

"You had me worried. I thought someone was about to follow me home."

The redhead laughed.

"It's probably nothing."

Ria hoped so.

The sound of glass breaking woke Ria, urging her to open her tired eyes and glance frantically around the room. The walls were painted in flashing hues of white and black almost like someone turned a strobe light on. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to make heads and tails of the situation. What was going on? It wasn't until she noticed that she had fallen asleep while watching the 1999 version of 'House on Haunted Hill' did she put two and two together.

For fuck's sake.

Ria took an uneasy breath and sat up. The scene in question was the one where Stephen Price played by Geoffrey Rush was locked in the Saturation Chamber. For a moment she knew what it was like to be in his shoes. Locating her DVD remote, she paused the movie and got out of bed, walking into the kitchen for a drink.

I need to stop watching horror movies before bed.

Drinking from a water bottle she had in her fridge, Ria glanced through the transom window into the living room at the neon sun and moon clock on the far wall; it was 3 in the morning. She groaned knowing that she should be in bed and sauntered back toward her bedroom until she noticed a picture frame on the floor beside her dining room table. The glass was broken into pieces and the picture was sticking out.

How did that happen?

The nail was still in the wall, but it wasn't uncommon for pictures to just fall without warning. It must have been the sound that woke her. With a groan, Ria went back into her kitchen and retrieved a broom and dustpan; her bare feet smacked across the dark hardwood floor as she hurried from one area to the next. Picking up the broken frame she stared at the picture; an image of her and Jimmy in 1997 when he passed the bar and became a lawyer.

Ria and Benjamin drove down from Cicero to celebrate with him. She remembered that day; it was a better time.

Look at me. Slap silly happy.

She sat the frame down on the table with a sad sigh and began to sweep up the mess. Her thoughts were so occupied with the past that she didn't even hear the faint click of the latch as the front door closed the remainder of the way, or notice the shadow that passed by her living room window.

#better call saul fanfiction #nacho varga #better call saul fandom #nacho varga x oc

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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 years

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A Change of Perspective

A JSE Fanfic

SepticHeroes AU: Part 11

After the chaos of last chapter with the dummies, this one doesn’t have that much action. It’s a little shorter than my usual stuff, but that still means its about 5000 words long XD Today, we get to see things from a new point of view: Spitfire Cat’s point of view, in fact. This is more of a world building/character development chapter than anything busy, but it’s still pretty fun ^-^ Enjoy!

===============

It was absurd that he still had to go to work, even though he had superpowers. Usually, he was fine with it. The job was okay, after all, and it’s what helped keep him afloat. But on days like these, waking up after a long, stressful night, he really wanted to destroy his alarm clock. He half-considered calling into work and lying about being sick. But in the end, he got out of bed and got ready for the day.

As always, he stopped by the coffee shop on the corner of the street where his apartment was. The barista recognized him, though he didn’t recognize her, and was friendly while she made his order. He just felt awkward. He was no good with people, and it really showed in moments like this. Still, he managed to thank her, and walked the rest of the way to the train station, where he was just in time for the 9:30 train.

Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at work. He went in through the side entrance and found himself in an empty hallway. Good. The tea he ordered had grown cold on the train ride and he needed to heat it up. He gave a quick glance down the hallway, then pressed himself against the wall and held the cup in both hands. A small red ring of energy encircled the cup, warming the liquid inside for a few moments before he dispelled it. Couldn’t go for too long or else the paper cup would catch fire.

The energy ring disappeared just in time. A man with a dark, bushy beard walked down the hall and saw him standing by the wall. “Hey, Ned!” the man called.

“Hi, Steve,” he said, looking up and waving. That wasn’t his real name, of course. But he’d gone by that alias for years now, and he was well used to responding to it.

“We’re almost live for ten o’clock,” Steve said. “You’re cutting it kind of close, aren’t you?”

He blinked. “I’m early. And I always get here at this time.”

Steve chuckled. “Ah, you’re the same as ever, aren’t you? That was a joke, Ned. Anyway, I’ll be on for today. Good luck.” He reached out and patted his shoulder—causing him to instinctively tense—then headed the other way.

Even though he was pretty early, it took a while to set up all the equipment, so he hurried to clock in and head down the hall to the broadcast room. He passed a few other coworkers on the way, most of whom were too busy to say anything, then reached the door. Quickly, he pulled out the keys in his jacket pocket and unlocked it. Then headed inside into the cool, empty room, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You would think they’d be able to hire more than one person per shift for this job. But he liked that they didn’t. It gave him a lot of free time once he finished with the work for the day. He could just hang out in the broadcast room.

Not right now, though. Right now, they were going live. He sat down, pulled on his headphones, and queued the Channel 5 intro to play as he took a sip of his tea.

The ten o’clock news was the most stressful part of the job. He remembered panicking on his first day, switching wildly between camera feeds and pulling up the prepared graphics thirty seconds too late. But that was a long time ago. He still felt the pressure, of course. But with his practice and focus, he could get through the whole thirty minutes without any major mistakes.

As usual, Dave and Debbie, the channel’s anchors, presented story after story, facts accompanied by little comedic comments put in to keep people’s attention. He didn’t care about most of the stories, but there would always be one or two that really caught his eye—

“And speaking of politicians, the mayor of Daindover has spoken about our local super’s upcoming promotion to official League Hero,” Debbie said.

He almost splashed tea over his face in an effort to put down the cup as fast as possible.

“That’s right, Debbie,” Dave said. “In a recent press conference, Mayor Danvers has expressed pride in Windstorm’s acceptance to the League, which started three months ago.”

He spared some time to roll his eyes before queueing up the appropriate video clip of said press conference. So that’s what this was all about. Carol—the news director—only ever left notes about what to do, not why to do it. Honestly, it was something he really hated about her, but it wasn’t fair to hate her entirely because she was genuinely nice outside of it.

In the video clip, the mayor was standing at a podium and talking about the League. “We’re happy that our city has been chosen to receive an official partnership with the League of Heroes. I’ve also been told by a League representative that Windstorm has been doing great work for the League already, and that his promotion to full Hero will be coming soon. To which I say, what an honor. If Windstorm is out there, I would like to invite him down to city hall for the highest recognition we can provide.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” he muttered, making sure to move the headset’s attached microphone away from his mouth before leaning to the side and making exaggerated gagging noises. Everyone loved the LoH. Everyone worshiped the LoH. The way some people talked about them, you’d think that literal gods themselves had descended on Earth to save humanity from destruction. Though, he supposed, that wasn’t far off from how the League presented themselves.

And as for Windstorm...well. His feelings on him had shifted considerably in the past couple weeks. For two years, he only thought of Windstorm as a careless wannabe who sucked up to the League like everyone else. Then Windstorm actually joined them, and his opinion of the hero had soured considerably. He thought that he was only doing it for fame and fortune—not caring about saving people, only about looking good and showing off his powers. Either that, or he was just that much of a fucking tool.

But...Windstorm had saved him a couple times now. And asked for nothing in return. Sure, they were working together to find the Puppeteer—damn it, now that hero had him using the name, too—but that was something they both wanted. And honestly? He seemed so nervous about it. Like the League would kick him out for associating with a criminal. Like he didn’t know what the League would really think.

Windstorm was still annoying. He was still too much of a goody-two-shoes. And he could be really stupid at times. But he actually cared about helping people. Abou being heroic, not just being a Hero. It was a shame he was so dumb. Hopefully that was just ignorance, and not a character trait. Maybe Windstorm would snap out of this before he got in too deep with the League.

The rest of the broadcast passed without anything notable. He rolled the credits and then ended the live feed at ten thirty. In the anchor room, Dave had already left, while Debbie had taken some tissues out of her purse and was wiping off her makeup. Two of the camera men were messing around and filming each other. Probably college interns, by the looks of them. He stretched back in his chair and closed his eyes.

God damn, he was tired. He must have passed out immediately when he got home. That thing with the crash test dummies had really worn him out. Even so, he didn’t go straight back to his apartment...

===============

This was one of the few neighborhoods where he could walk through the streets in his supersuit without worrying about the reactions. Among certain people, the collection of small, old brick houses on the north side of town had a reputation. Even a nickname: the Villain’s Haven. Most people who lived here knew not to bother anyone suspicious. From what he understood, the police had tried to weed out criminal activity in the area for at least a decade, but that was tough when nobody said anything, and everybody backed up someone’s alibi. A strange unspoken agreement ruled the area: “Don’t bother us, and we won’t bother you.”

The house was 66 Quinzel Street, but the second six had spun down into a nine, and nobody wanted to fix it. He knocked on the door hard enough to rattle its hinges. There was no immediate answer, so he banged on the wood again. “Kanchana?! Are you there?!” Still no answer. He considered breaking the lock, but knocked again, even harder. “Kanchana?! It’s...me! Are you there?!”

A muffled voice shouted something from inside. He couldn’t quite make out the words. But if she was shouting, did she need help?! He held out his hand to the side and conjured a bar of orange energy, which he sharpened into a blade and prepared to cut around the locked handle—

The door opened. A woman with long black hair, wearing an orange T-shirt and striped pajama pants, looked up at him with an annoyed expression. “Don’t break down my door, cat man,” she said. “I was getting ready for an early night. Is this important?”

He stared at her. His eyes flicked over to her wrists. One, two—nothing. There were no strings there. He let out a sigh of relief. “So you’re okay.”

“Yes, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” Kanchana’s eyes scanned him. “Is something wrong?” she asked in a softer voice.

“I thought...there was...” He shook his head. “I-I thought this villain got to you.”

Kanchana laughed. “Always possible, but they better know the consequences.” Her voice returned to that softer tone. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

“I...” He patted himself down, doing a quick self-assessment. “Some bruising, but I think that’s it.”

“Hm.” Kanchana nodded slowly. “Well, come inside and tell me what happened. Are you hungry?”

“I-I guess. I had dinner, but I just spent a lot of calories.”

“Alright. I’ll make you something. Come on.”

He stepped inside Kanchana’s house, letting her close the door behind him. “It’s kind of hard to know where to start,” he said, following her to the dining room and kitchen. “But, to be simple. I got an email from you. It...told me about a rumor. That was related to something I was looking into. I went to the place mentioned in the email and...got ambushed. Th-there was a villain there, he said that I didn’t check if you sent the email yourself. And that was worrying, because this motherfucker—” He growled as anger swelled in his chest “—has mind control. So I had to check on you.”

“I see.” Kanchana was busy getting things out of her fridge and cupboards. “Sit down, cat man. This’ll take a while.”

He sat down at the dining table. Now that everything was over, and he knew that everyone was safe, he felt the exhaustion starting to come. He stared across the dining room, out the window into the small backyard, and let his thoughts drift away...

Then, suddenly, Kanchana was setting a plate and glass down in front of him. “Here,” she said, sitting down in the chair next to him—though that turned out to be more diagonal with this square table.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, picking up the provided fork. The plate was full of rice, meat, and veggies. A lot of them, too, practically a whole meal. But, suddenly, he was starving. He ate quickly at first, but made a conscious effort to slow down after the first couple bites.

“You’re fine with apple juice, right?” Kanchana asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She nodded, and leaned forward onto the table. “How are you, Marvin?”

He didn’t answer immediately. “Fine, I guess. No one’s around, right?”

“No one’s going to hear me use your name.” Most people would have rolled their eyes or yelled at him for his feelings about his name. Not Kanchana. She didn’t know his situation, but she was smart enough to guess he had good reasons for keeping it secret. After all, she was the one who set up the fake paperwork for his alias. “They won’t do much with just a first name, either. Can’t even ask me for your full one, considering I don’t know it.”

“Yeah.” He took a few more bites of food. There was some citrusy taste in there—lime, maybe.

“Well, anyway. I should tell you something.” Kanchana sighed. “My old email got hacked.”

Marvin froze. He looked over at her. “Hacked?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

“I did. I sent you an email from my new address.” Kanchana glanced upwards. “I left my phone upstairs, I can show you the sent history if you want.”

“No, that’s fine, I believe you.” Marvin shook his head. “I didn’t...I don’t know if I didn’t get the email, or if I did, and I deleted it because I didn’t recognize the name. I’d do that.”

“You would.” Kanchana grinned.

“Why would someone hack your email?”

“To send fake messages to my people,” Kanchana sighed. “I don’t really check the sent history, so I didn’t even know this was happening until I got a call from Otto Blackwood. From prison. He wanted to know why I sent him an email about a possible job that turned out to be a trap.”

“Wait...” Marvin sat up straight. “A trap?”

“Yep. Otto said he got ambushed by a man in black. This guy must’ve been a super, because he put these weird strings on his wrists—”

“And made him commit some crime for no reason?” Marvin finished.

Kanchana blinked. “Yes. Exactly.”

“That’s the villain I saw tonight,” Marvin said. “He got to me, too. Did you hear about that arson case at the old Smithwick building?”

“That was you?!” Kanchana almost got out of her chair in surprise.

“It was. I got the strings off, but this villain is still out there. I’m trying to take care of him.” No need for her to know Marvin was working with Windstorm to do so. “What sort of things did he send with your email?”

“Mostly job offerings,” Kanchana said. “He mimicked my usual format almost perfectly. And you know that henchwork has been at a low since Pathos was arrested, so everyone accepted the jobs immediately. They were told to go to different places for a meeting with the client, where they all got ambushed by this man in black.”

Marvin rubbed his eyes. “So that’s what happened with that last crime wave.”

“Yeah.” Kanchana nodded. “I wish I could go to court for all the people who bought into the fake emails and ended up arrested. This should count as a Clause 17, and they should be released regardless of past activities. But. You know. I can’t risk them finding out about HAUC. If I start standing up for all these former henches, that might seem suspicious.”

“I’m sure they all understand,” Marvin reassured her.

Kanchana sighed. He knew it was killing her to see so many people hurting for something they really couldn’t control. Especially people she knew—which was everyone who received those emails. That was because of Kanchana’s power: the ability to remember anyone she’d ever interacted with. It wasn’t very showy, especially compared to other super-enhanced memories that could recall everything. But it was useful for running a large organization like HAUC. People opened up to Kanchana, because they knew she would remember them and their troubles. And she was nothing if not willing to help.

“How are things going with the order, anyway?” Marvin asked, trying for some small talk.

“Other than the hacked email, you mean? Fine. Like I said, henchwork has been low in the past year. But I think we’re starting to recover. There’s not much to find in Daindover, so a lot of people have been forced to branch out into other cities. But there’s been a rising need for tech-based work—a lot of villains have websites nowadays—so people can hench from home with a computer provided by the client. And shipping goods like that has also opened up a new market for people who can keep quiet and smuggle things.”

Marvin snorted. “Villains have websites?”

“Well, they’re not often villains like you,” Kanchana admitted. “They ride the line between villainy and regular crime, and I don’t think many are supers. But like I said, there’s not a lot of work in the area. People are getting desperate.” She paused. “Marvin. Let’s go back to the fake emails. There’s something bothering me.”

Marvin straightened up. “What?”

“Twenty-two people accepted the fake jobs. Sixteen have been arrested, but the last six haven’t. There hasn’t been sign of them committing crimes on the news, either. And when I couldn’t contact them, I went to their places for a visit, but they weren’t there. Most of their stuff was still in place, and the landlords all said these people broke lease willingly, but they wouldn’t do that. You said this villain has mind powers, right? They must be under his control. But I don’t know what happened to them, they just...disappeared.” Kanchana took a deep breath. “Can you keep an eye out for them? Listen for any news?”

“I can do that.” Marvin nodded. “No problem.”

Kanchana smiled, relieved. “Thank you. I’ve tried to look around myself, but I have so much more to do...”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. I’m already trying to track down this new villain, anyway, this is related.” Marvin paused, then hurried to add, “Not that I wouldn’t do it if that wasn’t the case, I didn’t mean—”

Kanchana laughed. “I know, Marvin.”

“Oh. I have a question, actually.” Marvin tapped his fingers on the table in a quick pattern. “Did you get Gwen to look at the hacked email? Maybe she’d be able to figure out who did it?”

“You know her powers don’t work like that. She needs hardware, email is just software.” Kanchana let out a breath. “Besides, I don’t want to bother her with this. You know?”

“I know. I just thought it was worth asking.” Marvin held back a yawn. “Can’t believe I forgot about the hardware-software thing.”

“You look terrible,” Kanchana said.

“Gee. Thanks.”

“I mean you’re clearly tired.” She pushed his plate a little closer to him. “Finish your food, then go home and go to sleep. You need it.”

===============

And he still needed sleep. Unfortunately, he had obligations.

As usual, his shift following the ten o’clock live broadcast consisted of him editing prerecorded shows, interrupted three times. Twice to make sure the 12:00 and 3:00 programs went smoothly, once at 1:00 for his lunch break. It sounded like a lot of work. But in reality, the equipment had several programs to speed things up and/or automated a lot of it. So Marvin spent the last hour of his shift napping under the broadcast desk, until his phone alarm woke him up at 4:45, telling him to get things ready for the next technician who’d be coming in at five. He cleaned things up and made sure the equipment was working, then clocked out fifteen minutes later.

While waiting at the train station, Marvin mentally reviewed the work day. Nothing exciting had happened. Well, some new hire had made fun of him wearing gloves, but she’d shut up when he gave her his most threatening glare. So that wasn’t important. What was important were the news stories he overheard, both from his coworkers and from the programs he was editing. Today, none of them really stood out. The crime wave was officially declared over, and there were no super-related activities besides stuff about Windstorm being in the League. And, most importantly, there were no mysterious break-ins that might have been a sign of the Specter.

The only thing remotely interesting was the news about SepTech’s new toys: the Semi-Automatic Machines. The first wave had been approved for use by the League of Heroes last month, and apparently that was going so well that SepTech was going to release them to the public on October 10th. Though Marvin highly doubted that most of the public would ever actually see one of the Machines. The price tag on the things were enormous. Understandably so, given the technology. The current director of SepTech loved robotics, and had spent years working on the Machines. Some critics were complaining they were just glorified drones, but SepTech was boasting about how they could do so many things on their own, without much user input.

Marvin didn’t trust those Semi-Automatic Machines. He didn’t like the sound of some of their features, and he didn’t like how the Leaguewas talking about eventually giving one to all of their Heroes.

He was so distracted by stewing in his sour feelings about the League and SepTech’s Machines that he didn’t notice he’d got on the wrong train until its next stop, when he looked out the window to an unexpected station. “Shit!” he hissed, pushing through other standing riders in order to get off the train. He made it out just before the doors closed.

Where was he now? Marvin hurried over to the nearest train map, helpfully posted on a sign nearby. Puppen Street? He vaguely recognized the name. Wasn’t this the sort of...artsy part of the city? He’d been here a couple times, though not many. Whatever. He scanned the map some more, forming a plan. He had to wait thirty minutes for a train to take him back to his first station, where he could get on his original line, the one he’d meant to get on before. “Damn it,” he muttered. Of course, of all the wrong trains to get on, it had to be the line that took a whole half hour between arrivals.

Now, he could either wait around at the station, or he could go on a short walk to kill time. He was originally inclined towards the first option, but then again, he’d rarely been in this part of the city. It seemed less busy than other places, with fewer noisy cars and crowds. Something about the atmosphere was just...more inviting. Marvin stood in place for a good minute arguing with himself before he realized that he was wasting time if he wanted to go on that walk. That final thought spurred him on, and he stepped off the station platform and onto the sidewalk. He would just look around a little.

His plan was to walk in a straight line, but as it turned out, Puppen Street ended up curving and turning weirdly. Ten minutes of half-walking, half-slightly-panicked-running later, he found himself on an entirely different street, regretting his decision to leave the train station at all.

At least it was a nice street. It looked...what was the word? Vintage. The road was lined with shops and small restaurants, their design all a few decades old. The buildings themselves were only two or three stories tall. It was cute. Marvin made a note of this new street’s name—Zeit Way—to come back to on one of his days off. But for right now, he just wanted to get home. He had no idea how he got here, and wasn’t sure that just turning around would be enough for his terrible sense of direction. Maybe he could ask around?

Marvin walked along the street, peering into store windows, looking for a place that had only a few people inside who he could talk to. But everytime he looked in, any people inside looked busy. He didn’t want to interrupt anyone...

Completely unprompted, he heard Windstorm’s voice in his head. Wow, you’re scared of people? Really? I didn’t take you for the type, Spitfire. You don’t have any problem shouting at me all the time.

He half-laughed to himself. That was true. But it was easier to be a villain than to make small talk with strangers. It was easy to wear a mask and let his anger take control. It was easy to snap at Windstorm for being an annoying League bootlicker. This was a different situation entirely.

Whatever. He’d get it over with. Marvin pushed open the door to the nearest shop. A bell chimed overhead as he went inside. This was some sort of...woodworking place? It was full of knickknacks and handmade furniture. There were even wooden clocks on the walls, all ticking in unison. Luckily, the building was empty, except for two men standing by a counter at the back of the shop. Marvin hesitated, then walked over to them.

The two men looked a lot like each other, almost eerily so. They had the same brown hair and the same bright blue eyes. The only differences were their clothes—that, and one was wearing glasses, while the other had a mustache. Actually...it was weird, but these two almost looked like Marvin himself.

He stopped walking some ways away from them. But still within earshot. The one with the glasses was talking, his words traced by some European accent: “—just want to know if everything is alright. You keep talking about how you haven’t been sleeping well.”

The one with the mustache raised his hands, and—oh! He was using BSL. I’m fine, really. It’s just some difficulties. They happen every so often.

“Jamie, you cannot stop me from worrying.” The glasses one hesitated. “This is not about—nothing has changed with...with—”

The mustached one (Jamie?) shook his head and signed quickly. No, it’s not about that, I promise. Everything is going fine on that front. As fine as it can, at least. It’s just an odd spell of some kind. I’m really fine, H-glasses, don’t worry. What was that...oh, it must have been a name sign. Interesting.

“Well, just let me know if you ever need any help,” Glasses said. “Really. Money is no object.”

Thank you. Really. But it’s all fine, Mustache insisted.

Glasses sighed. He turned to look at Marvin. “Sorry, Jackie, I—” He stopped. “Oh. I-I am sorry, I thought you were a friend of mine.”

“No, uh, it’s fine,” Marvin said. That name...it was probably a coincidence. There had to be multiple Jackies in the city. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mustache one signed something, looking at his companion. Is this another patient of yours coming to thank you, H-glasses?

“A...patient? No, I don’t know him,” Marvin said.

Surprise crossed Mustache’s face, quickly followed by delight. You speak BSL?

“Yeah.” Marvin nodded, not elaborating.

Great! Well, are you new in town?

“Uh...no, I’ve actually lived here for a few years.” Marvin laughed. “I know it’s embarrassing. But my sense of direction is horrible and I’ve never been in this area before. I’m just looking for the train platform on Puppen Street.”

“That is fairly close by, yes?” Glasses asked, directing the question to Mustache. “Sorry, I do not know the streets so well.”

Pretty close. It’s about ten to fifteen minutes away by walking, Mustache said. Hang on, I’ll write down directions, signing would just take longer. He walked around the counter, pulling open a drawer on the other side and taking out a pen and sheet of paper.

“Thanks,” Marvin said.

No problem, Mustache said, and started to write.

“Excuse me if this is a strange question,” Glasses said. “But do you happen to know Jackie Skye?”

“Maybe,” Marvin said. “What do they look like?”

Glasses laughed. “A bit like you, actually. That is why I mistook you for him earlier, and why I’m asking now. You clearly aren’t related, judging by your reaction.”

“No, I don’t have...any family that lives over here,” Marvin said. “What about you? Are we related?”

“I highly doubt it. Oh! By the way, I am Henrik, this is my cousin Jameson, he owns the shop.” Henrik gestured to Jameson, who paused in his writing to wave, then held out his hand for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you.” Marvin didn’t take his hand. In fact, he folded his arms.

Henrik put his hand down. “And you?”

“Huh? Oh, my name. I’m Ned. Uh...nice shop you have here.”

Thank you, Jameson said, finishing with his writing. Some of the items for sale were made by my family, some are by local artists. Here are your directions. I included a little map as well. He held out the sheet of paper.

Marvin took it, scanning the pen. “Thanks. Your handwriting is nice.”

Well I try. Jameson grinned. You’re probably in a hurry right now, looking for the platform and all, but feel free to stop by some other time.

“I might,” Marvin said vaguely. He reached into his jacket pocket and checked the time. The train would be coming in fifteen minutes! “Oh shit, I have to go.” He turned around, briefly waving back at the two men. “Thanks again!”

“Goodbye!” Henrik called, and Jameson waved.

Luckily, Jameson’s directions turned out to be very easy to understand. He arrived at the station with a few minutes to spare, then boarded the train when it arrived, getting off at the next stop and transferring to the line he was originally supposed to take.

It would be a bit of a wait before his station came up. And during that wait, Marvin kept thinking about those two. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way that he’d run into friends of Windstorm through getting lost on the train. But something about it kept bothering him. That last name, Skye... Though he knew Windstorm’s first name was Jackie, because of that slipup with his roommate, he didn’t know his family name. Maybe it could be Skye. Something about that name was nagging at him.

He couldn’t look into it right now. He had a lot of things to do when he got home. Keeping an eye out for rumors about the Specter or the Puppeteer took a lot of energy. It was practically research, and he’d always hated research papers in school. And he’d promised to help Kanchana look for those missing people. Not to mention he hadn’t eaten anything in about five hours. And he was still tired from last night. He needed a snack and a nap before doing anything else.

But he filed the information away for a later date. Who knows? It might end up being useful.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #septicheroesau

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qiangweirosa · 3 months

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flowers

" Noel gets a job at Wilardo’s flower shop.

——

noelclaire week day 3: florist/barista au "

relationships: noel/claire, wilardo & noel, rouge & noel, ashe & noel tws: none wc: 638 extra: set in my modern wh au! can be read as a standalone tho

read on ao3!

When Rouge had suggested for him to get a job, Noel found himself at a loss. He had no idea where to start looking, or even what he could do. How did one find a job in the first place?

He happened to bring it up around his friends at lunch someday, and they seemed to have better ideas than he did.

“Why don’t you get a job at the coffee shop? That way you’ll be working with Miss Claire, too!”

Noel hummed in thought, a bashful expression making its way on his face.

“Ah, that would be good, yes… But I’m pretty sure they’re already full staffed, what with Claire, Sirius and the girls…”

Ashe let out a disappointed noise. Noel bit back a remark about his… less than adequate kitchen proficiency, but either way, the coffee shop was out of the question.

Wilardo chewed down a bite of his food, before speaking up.

“I think we’re looking for a part time employee at my shop. If you’d be interested in dealing with flowers, that is.”

Noel’s face lit up, and he nodded excitedly towards Wilardo, who then wiped his hands before writing down the details on a small piece of paper.

And so, that was how Noel ended up getting an interview at the local flower shop; he had been here a few times before, either accompanying Rouge, or buying a gift for Claire, but for some reason this time felt a lot more nerve-inducing than the ones before.

He vaguely knew the owner. Wilardo’s gramps, if he remembered correctly? He seemed to be a kind man, at least, Noel thought. The interview went without much of a hitch, and soon enough he received a message that let him know that he was hired.

Wilardo was the one to train him, thankfully. He messed up a lot the first few times, but he eventually got the hang of it. Besides, Wilardo was patient, which Noel would forever be grateful for.

One of the perks about the job - besides the salary - was the discount on flowers. As much as Noel loved Claire, and loved gifting her things she would like, flowers tended to be pretty expensive, and with his previous allowance from Rouge, he often couldn’t afford the fancier bouquets, or really anything other than small flowers in pots or single ones.

Talking to people had never been his forte, but the atmosphere of the flower shop was calming enough that he felt at ease; and whenever a customer was overwhelming him too much, Wilardo was often quick to react and take over.

(Noel would need to thank him for being such a reliable friend at some point.)

When he received his first paycheck, Noel was quick to spend a part of it in the very same place he earned it. Throughout his time working there, Noel had gotten to learn more about flowers, enough to be able to choose a bouquet perfect for Claire. An assortment of blue and yellow flowers mainly, with a hint of white for balance. And after wrapping his bouquet with paper and ribbon, he set off to the coffee shop, a happy smile on his face and already looking forward to seeing Claire.

The bell chimed as he walked into the café, looking around for the familiar hair of blue behind the counter. She grinned brightly at him, immediately alerting her coworkers that she was taking a break, before heading over to Noel.

She welcomed him, and he handed her the bouquet timidly, his fingers fiddling with the bottom of the wrapping.

“I… hope you like it.”

Claire took it into her arms, gasping in wonder, her eyes wide and filled with stars. She looked back up at Noel, warmth rushing to her face and smiling.

“I love it, thank you.”

#my ao3 works #witchs heart #claire elford #noel levine #noelclaire #noelclaire week 2023

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libertyxm · 11 months

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[Harry x MC] Rain of stars. Part 1

Hello guys! I'm back again after a looong hiatus. This is the first part of my new fanfic about Harry.I've already told you that it's about the cold and rude Harry from the planet Cloudi, but it will get better and better as the story progresses. I'm also going to publish this same story on planet Sensitive (you can find me there with the same username libertyxm), in case you want to follow it from there. Anyway, I'll stop talking so much and let you enjoy the story. See you soon!

Liberty

"And this is all for today's class" that's the only sentence I paid attention to since the lesson started. I let out a sigh. I was tired after yesterday work shift and the last thing I wanted to do is have to assist a class at 8:00 a.m.

"I need coffee, like right now. A big cup with extra sugar, coffee, and caramel" I smiled at my best friend sitting next to me. "Okey but today's coffee is on you" I replied to her as we started our way to the cafeteria. " I know, I know... by the way, did you hear about that super famous film director visiting our faculty?" "Not really, and since when do you care about these things? " I asked my friend. " Because rumors said he is really handsome but sadly, he almost always covers his face with a horse mask" I laughed " A horse mask? come on, stop kidding me, who would go out with that" She rolled her eyes " I don't know, maybe he's afraid to blind us with his pretty face" We both laughed as the cashier was taking our order " Why is he coming?" I asked, suddenly curious. " It looks like he wants to take some scenes for a university students documentary... oh, our order is here"

After we took separate paths after we had been talking for a while since both of us had different subjects. As I headed to class, I opened my cell phone to check the status of my bank account. Seeing as how the situation was, I would probably have to work more hours or find something that paid me better. As I keep wondering about these thoughts I felt the impact of something (or rather someone) against me and I was near to taste the floor, but thanks to God, I could maintain my balance. The culprit? was a tall guy with short grey hair and deep blue eyes. Wow... so... handsome but guess what, he was looking at me with a frown on his face as if I had been the one who had attacked him.

I pulled myself together and stood in front of him waiting for my apology, but all I got was a snap and him dodging me to keep walking. "Excuse me, sir, have you not been taught manners?" I told him a little bit angry. "Why should I do it?" is all he said.

"Sir, you almost knocked me down" I pointed out the obvious "It was you who bumped into me" and he just walked away. I took a deep breath and tried to count to ten as I imagined what would happen if I threw my bag at him.

After a long day of classes and assignments, I went to the coffee shop I work in. In general, my coworkers are nice but there was this guy called David who always piss me off. For him, I make everything wrong. Somedays I just take it and shut up, but others… well it's better not to talk about it right now.

Today, although I had to work alone for a few hours, it was not crowded and I could relax a little.

"I would like to take an americano and black tea, please" I took the order before I look at the two men in front of me but when I looked up, I was stunned to recognise the same blue-eyed boy from this morning.

We both gave each other withering glances before I start to work on their order. If it wasn't for the workers' code and my contract… I let out a sigh, trying to get out of my state of frustration but, exactly two minutes later, the boy was standing in front of me with that "I hate you" expression of his.

"What's wrong?" I asked and I wish I hadn't. "The tea, it doesn't taste good." "Okay, what have I got to do with it?" "You're the one who made it, so I demand good tea."

I gave her a withering look before taking a deep breath for the fifth time this day.

"Sir, either be more specific with what you want or I won't be able to help you."

"Throw it away, it's useless to come here for a drink" Maybe the best solution would have been to shut up, smile and offer him another one that suits his taste, but by the time I realised, I had already thrown the tea (which was already cold) on top of his shoes. Well... at least I did the shut up part, right?...

#thessum #harry choi #the ssum harry #writing #fanfic #the ssum fanfic

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years

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While You Were Sleeping

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: after saving your long time crush Tom’s life from an accident that puts him in a coma, a misplaced comment leads his family to believe you’re his fiancé

Masterlist

Inspired by the movie!

“Good morning.” You greeted your customer. “How can I help-“

“Large hot.” He cut you off without looking up.

“Absolutely.” Your smile faltered a little. “Any cream or-“

“Black.” He interrupted again. “Half a Splenda.”

“You got it.” Your kept your fake cheerfulness as you typed in his order. He left without thanking you and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“How illegal is it to spit on someone’s drink?” You mumbled to your coworker Sandra as you began to make the mans coffee.

“Extremely. I’ll make it. Your boyfriends order just came in.” She said as she held up the ticket to an online order.

“Medium tea with six sugars?” You gasped and took the ticket.

“Yup. Same as every day.” She said. “I’m surprised he hasn’t gone into a sugar coma yet. That’s double the amount we’re supposed to put into a medium.”

“He just likes his tea sweet.” You defended the stranger. “Who are you to judge his sugar intake?”

“Can you please put your number on the cup already? You’ve been pining after medium tea guy for months. He can’t be your future husband if you can’t talk to him.”

“I can’t do that. I’m perfectly fine with admiring him from a far and making him the center of my maladaptive day dreaming.” You joked as you put his tea out on the rack.

“I’m just saying, you probably have a chance with him if you just-“

“Shhhhh.” You hushed her. “He’s here.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as the man came into the store. He took his tea off the rack and made brief eye contact with you as he sipped it.

“Thank you!” He called as he left the store.

“You’re welcome!” You called back, but he was already gone.

“There he goes.” You sighed. “The man of my dreams.”

“Next time he comes in here, you’re asking that man on a date.” Sandra said as she gave you a pointed look.

“Not gonna happen.”

Since your coffee shop was located in the London Underground station, you had a lot of regulators. This regular in particular had a special place in your heart. He was always kind, unlike most costumers you interacted with, but that wasn’t what you liked about him. There was something indescribable about him that made you long to know him. You’d never actually spoken, but you had a feeling you would get along if you did.

The next day, you were on the register again when the ticket for a medium tea with six sugars came through.

“I’ll take over.” Sandra said as she bumped you with her hip. “Your boyfriends order just came in.”

“Really?” You frowned and checked the time. “He’s never this late. He must’ve slept in.”

“You are so in love with him.” She teased as you began to make his tea.

“Shut up.” You laughed as you went over to put his drink on the rack. Just as you set it down, cold fingertips touched yours.

“Thanks, darling.” A kind voice said as the cup was lifted off the rack. You were too stunned to speak as the man you’d been pining after for months finally spoke to you. You’d never been this close to him before, so you took your time taking in all the details of his face. He was well dressed in a light gray overcoat, a welcomed contrast to his messy curls. His cheeks were tinted pink from the November chill, but what really caught your eye was the bright red scarf around his neck.

“It’s cold out there, isn’t it?” He said when he saw you looking at his scarf.

“Hmm?” You hummed, barely hearing him over your own heartbeat.

“Never mind. It wasn’t important. “He chuckled. “Stay warm, okay? And have a good day.”

You gave him a weak smile as he took his tea and walked out of the store. You let out a loud groan and shut your eyes once you processed what had happened.

“Stupid stupid stupid.” You mumbled as you hit your palm against your forehand.

“Oh, baby.” Sandra frowned. “That was rough.”

“Hey. How are you? Nice coat. Lovely day, right? Marry me. I love you.” You whined as you went through all the things you should have said.

“It’s okay.” Sandra assured you. “He’ll be in tomorrow. You can redeem yourself then.”

“I can’t come in tomorrow.” You told her.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to kill myself tonight.” You said simply. “Could you cover my shift?”

“It wasn’t that bad.” She promised. “He probably won’t even remember it.”

“I’ve been waiting for him to speak to me for 4 months and I totally blew it. I hate myself. Now we’re never gonna fall in love and get married.” You groaned and rested your head on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.” She rubbed your back. “You’ll get your chance to redeem yourself.”

“I hope so.”

“Wait, isn’t that your guy?” Sandra said, making you take your head off her shoulder. You looked out the window of the coffee shop and sure enough, you saw the man near the tracks being mugged but a couple of guys.

“Oh my God.” You gasped and grabbed a bagel from behind you. You ran out of the store and didn’t stop until you reached the man.

“Hey! Leave him alone.” You said as you threw a bagel at one of the muggers. It caught him so off guard that he dropped the briefcase he had taken from the man.

“Is this cinnamon raisin?” The assailant asked as he picked up the bagel. “Disgusting!”

In what felt like slow motion, he threw the bagel back at you. You ducked just in time to watch it hit the man in the head and send him stumbling backwards towards the train tracks.

“No!” You cried as you reached out to catch him. You grabbed his scarf but it unraveled from his neck and stayed in your hands as the man fell onto the tracks. The muggers quickly ran away as a crowd began to gather. You immediately ran to the edge of the platform and saw the man lying unconscious on the tracks.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “Sir? Sir, are you okay?”

You picked up the bagel and threw it at him in an attempt to wake him up, but he didn’t budge. Without another thought, you jumped down onto the tracks and knelt beside him.

“Please wake up. You have to get off the tracks.” You said as you shook him. Once again, his eyes didn’t open. You looked up and felt your heart stop when you saw the train in the distance.

“Please wake up.” You pleaded. “The train is coming really fast. It’s an Express.”

The train was getting closer and he was still unconscious. You tried to pull him off the tracks by his arm, but he was too heavy.

“Wake up. You have to wake up.” You said as you straddled his waist and tries to shake him awake again. The train was going to be there any second and he was still out cold.

“Oh God.” You groaned as you pulled him as hard as you could. With your help, he rolled off the tracks and landed on top of you as the train whizzed by. You struggled to catch your breath as the sound of distant applause and gasps filled your ears. Suddenly, his eyes fluttered opened and he looked at you in confusion.

“Hi.” You said weakly.

“Hi.” He smiled softly at you before shutting his eyes again. His limp head fell onto you, knocking the air out of your chest. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh of relief as the police and emergency services arrived. They let you ride in the back of the ambulance as they took him to the hospital, but you were separated at the doors.

“Excuse me?” You asked the lady at the front desk. “A man just came in and I really need to see him.”

“Whats his name?” She asked.

“I don’t know.” You realized. “I only know his initials.”

“I can’t help you without a name.”

“Please.” You begged as you spotted him. “He’s right over there. I’ll be right back.”

You ran around the front desk and followed the gurney that was wheeling the man into a room.

“Woah there.” A doctor stopped you. “Are you family?”

“No. I’m not.” You said as you tried it push past him.

“Then you can stay out here.” The doctor smiled tightly at you.

“But-“ You we’re cut off by the door being shut in your face. You shut your eyes in defeat and pressed your forehead against his door.

“I was gonna marry him.” You mumbled sadly. A nurse overhead you say this and watched curiously as you wrapped his scarf around your neck. You went to sit down in defeat, hugging his briefcase tightly against your body and resting your chin against it as you watched the doctors work on him. The nurse quickly went over to you and tapped you on the shoulder.

“Excuse me? Are you with that man?” She asked as she pointed to the mans room.

“Yeah, I am. Is he all right?” You hoped as you stood up.

“Come with me, dear.” The nurse smiled kindly at you and lead you into the room. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the man lying in a hospital bed and hooked up to multiple machines.

“Oh God. He looks so pale.” You frowned as you went over to him.

“His vitals are stable.” The nurse told you. “You can touch him if you’d like.”

You hesitantly reached out and put your hand on his face. When you were sure you weren’t hurting him, you sat down in the seat beside his bed and held his hand.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you.” You whispered. “I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“Is that the woman who saved his life?” One of the doctors asked the nurse.

“Yes.” The nurse whispered back. “And it gets even better. She’s his fiancé. She said they’re gonna get married.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.” The doctor nodded in approval. They left to give you your privacy as you continued to hold his hand.

“I wish I said hello to you. I really wanted to. You just caught me off guard. Give me a chance to say hello before we say goodbye.” You told him as a tear slipped down your face. Just then, a group of people came bustling into the room. The woman and one of the boys had an apron on as the rest wore terrified expressions.

“Tom? Oh No.” The woman gasped. “Tommy, what happened? Is he okay?”

You quickly let go of his hand and went to the back of the room as the doctor came back in. As you stood back, you smiled at little upon learning his name.

“You must be Mr. and Mrs. Holland. Your son is stable for now.” The doctor explained. “The trauma to his head is most likely the reason for his coma. We’re not sure when he’ll wake up at this time.”

“Oh God.” Nikki held her hand to her lips. “On Thanksgiving day. How did this happen?”

“He fell onto the tracks on the tube.” You spoke up, making the family turn and look at you.

“Who’s that?” The youngest boy asked.

“Paddy, don’t be rude.” Dom hushed him.

“She is someone who can’t be in here right now.” The doctor who kicked you out earlier said as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Let her stay.” The nurse said. “She’s his fiancé.”

“Fiancé?” Nikki’s eyes lit up as she noticed you were wearing Tom’s scarf. You were just as confused as the family was when you heard the nurse say this

“I don’t care.” The doctor continued. “She can’t be in here. Family only.”

“She’s basically family.” The nurse insisted. “She deserves to be here. She saved his life.”

“You saved his life?” Dom asked. “I thought he fell on the tracks.”

“He did.” The nurse said. “So she jumped onto the tracks the pulled him out of the way of the train.”

“You did?” One of the boys jaw dropped.

“I had to.” You said simply. “The train was coming and he wasn’t waking up.”

The family looked at you in admiration as you hugged his briefcase tightly against your chest.

“He never mentioned having a fiancé.” Nikki realized.

“Oh, I’m not-“

“You know how Tom is, Nikki.” Dom cut you off. “He’s very private about that kind of thing. He probably didn’t want to tell us until he knew it was going to last.”

“Hold on.” One of the boys went up to you. “How did my div brother get a girl like you to agree to marry him? You’re hot.”

“Oh, well thank you. Butt Tom and I aren’t-“

“Quiet, Harry. Tom might be able to hear you.” The other boy cut you off again.

“Sam, he’s in a coma. He can’t hear me.” Harry said as he lifted Tom’s limp arm and let it drop. “And I’m just saying. It’s unlikely that Tom got her to marry him without a little bit of coercion.”

“He didn’t coerce me.” You tried again. “He never even-“

“What’s your name, darling?” Dom asked you. “I can’t believe I don’t even know you yet you saved my sons life.”

“I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n. What a pretty name.” Nikki gushed. “And such a pretty girl. I can see why he wants to marry you.”

“Thank you. But he-“

“Welcome to the family, Y/n. I’m Dom.” Dom said as he hugged you. “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. But really, I can’t thank you enough for saving my sons life.”

“Of course.” You smiled softly. “He’d do it for me.”

Nikki and Dom exchanged heartfelt looks upon hearing this. Nikki was the next one to hug you, letting it linger for a long time.

“You’re a brave girl.” She said as she cupped your face. “Not everyone would’ve done what you did. What gave you the courage to jump down into the tracks?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t question it. I saw him fall and I knew I had to save him.”

“Wow.” Sam nodded. “You must really love him.”

“You do realize you could’ve died, right?” Harry raised as eyebrow as he drew on Tom’s face.

“I know. He was worth it.” You said as you looked wistfully at Tom.

“Do you hear that? He was worth her risking her life. What a beautiful relationship you must have. We’re so happy to have you join the family.” Nikki said as she hugged you again.

“Thank you. But I’m not actually-“

“I’m sorry, but we need to run some more tests on Tom.” The doctor cut you off. “You can come back tomorrow during visiting hours.”

“We can’t help him now.” Dom sighed. “Let’s come back tomorrow and see if anything changes.”

“Y/n, won’t you come home with us? We were just getting ready to eat dinner.” Nikki asked as she squeezed your hand.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t.”

“Please?” She hoped. “It’s thanksgiving. And I’d love to get to know you.”

“We all would.” Dom added. With the entire family and hospital staff staring at you, you felt like you didn’t have a choice.

“Sure.” You reluctantly agreed. “Why not?”

You walked into Tom’s childhood home with your breath held. A few hours ago, you’d never even spoken to him. Now, you were about to eat thanksgiving dinner with his family. You clocked a few pictures around the house of Tom growing up and smiled to yourself. As you sat down at the table, you decided to be as honest as possible. You may be lying about your relationship with Tom, but you didn’t have to lie about the rest.

“So, Y/n.” Nikki asked as she sat down. “How long have you and Tom been together?”

“Since September 3rd.” You answered honestly. “That’s the first time I saw him.”

“Where did you meet?” Dom wondered.

“At the coffee shop in the tube station. I work there and he comes in everyday.”

“He probably orders the most sugary drink on the menu, doesn’t he?” Paddy snorted.

“Yes, actually.” You chuckled. “He likes a lot of sugar in his tea.”

“September 3rd, huh?” Harry said skeptically. “That’s pretty quick for an engagement.”

“You have no idea.” You said under your breath.

“Was it love at first sight?” Nikki asked.

“It was. Most people don’t even look up when they come in to order. But he always smiles says thank you.” You recalled with a smile.

“See Dom? I told you it was important to enforce manners. Manners got Tom a lovely fiancé.” Nikki smiled in content as she gestured to you.

“How good are his manners?” Harry wondered. “Are they really enough to make up for everything else?”

“Harry.” Nikki scolded while you laughed.

“I like a lot of things about him.” You told Harry. “He always helps women in heels step on and off the tube. And he always gives his seat up to kids and old people. He’s very kind. That’s the first thing I noticed about him.”

“Aw.” Nikki beamed.

“Where’s your family tonight, Y/n?” Sam asked. “I hope they don’t mind us stealing you for thanksgiving.”

“Oh, no ones missing me tonight.” You smiled politely. “I was a foster kid so I don’t have any family.”

An awkward silence filled the room, something that always happened when you mentioned your past. You nervously cleared your throat and shrunk down in your seat until Dom spoke up.

“Yes you do.” He said. “You have us.”

“And were very lucky to have you.” Nikki added.

“Whats a foster kid?” Paddy asked with a mouth full of food.

“Paddy.” Nikki whispered. “Manners.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind telling him.” You assured her. For the rest of dinner, you got to know each member of the family as they got to know you. You told them about your past and kept it vague when it came to questions about Tom. Nikki was especially eager to talk about the wedding and was more than willing to help plan it.

Once dinner had ended, you thanked the family before driving back to the hospital and finding Toms room. He was still unconscious and sleeping in silence, the only noise coming from his many monitors.

“Hey. I didn’t want you to spend the night alone.” You said as you slipped your hand back into his.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m really sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Today was the first time we ever spoke to each other and now I’m planning a bridal shower with your mother. It all got out of hand so fast. The nurse told them I was your fiancé and I kept trying to tell them the truth, but it never came out.”

You stared at Tom’s sleeping face and let out a wavering sigh. You had been lying to his family all day and you didn’t want to lie to him too.

“Honestly, I didn’t try very hard.” You admitted. “I got swept away by being with your family. They’re amazing. All of them have been so kind to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been a part of a family. I just missed how it felt to be included.”

Unbeknownst to you, Dom was outside the door listening. He had also come to the hospital to see Tom when he found you already in the room.

“But that’s no excuse.” You continued. “They’re not my family. They’re yours. I’ll tell them the truth. I promise I will. And then I’ll get out of your life forever.”

You raised Tom’s limp hand to your lips and kissed the back of it, your way to apologizing for all that had happened.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” You whispered against the back of his hand.

You stayed up talking to him for a few more hours, feeling too guilty to leave him alone. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you felt yourself being shaken away many hours later.

“Y/n.” Dom whispered as your eyes opened. “Were you here all night?”

“I guess so.” You said through a yawn. “I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Dom noted. “A very kind thing to do for a stranger.”

“What?” Your heart stopped. “You know?”

“I heard you talking to him last night.” Dom admitted. “I know you’re not really his fiancé.”

“I’m so sorry. Believe me, I’m mortified. I never meant for it to go this far.” You told him as you got up. “I’ll leave right away and never bother you again. And I’ll tell your family the truth.”

“Wait.” Dom stopped you. “You don’t have to go.”

“I don’t?”

“Tom is our firstborn. Nothing can replace the love you have for your first child.” Dom explained. “And while he’s unconscious, having you around is like having him around. You’re all Nikki has left of him right now. You’re a piece of him that she needs to hold on to until he’s awake. Telling her the truth will take him away all over again.”

“But I don’t even know him.” You reminded him. “He’s a regular at my coffee shop. That’s all.”

“You must have some connection to him. A stranger wouldn’t have spent the night by his bedside.” Dom said. “And you definitely wouldn’t have jumped down onto the tracks to save him if he was just a stranger.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.” You admitted. “Look Dom, I really care about your son. But I’m not his fiancé. I can’t be his replacement.”

“That’s okay. Once he wakes up, you and I can tell everyone the truth together.” He offered. “But Nikki is having the time of her life planning your wedding. She’s been putting ideas together all morning. It’s the perfect distraction to keep her from thinking about Toms condition. Just keep the charade up a little longer. Please?”

“Okay.” You said after a minute. “Just a little longer.”

One month later

“Look! Matching pajamas for Tom and Y/n! He’s going to love them when he wakes up.” Nikki said as you held up the Christmas gift she got you.

“Thank you, Nikki. If I know Tom, and I do, I know he loves matching pajama sets.” You said through an awkward smile. “Dom, can I speak to you for a second?”

Dom followed you out of the room, where you quickly dropped your smile.

“You said a little longer.” You whispered harshly. “I have been pretending to be your sons fiancé for a month now. I have a stocking by your fire place!”

“I know, I know.” He said apologetically. “I thought he would wake up by now. I didn’t think it would go on this long.”

“Well he hasn’t woken up.” You reminded him. “And while he’s been sleeping, I’ve been wedding dress shopping with Nikki, I’ve driven Paddy to multiple football practices, I’ve come to all the Sunday dinners, and I had to watch Sam and Harry’s four hour magic show. With no intermission!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “No one knew “Twin-sanity” would be four hours long.”

“I’m in too deep. I can never tell them the truth now.” You whined as you peaked around the wall to see the family opening presents.

“I’ll tell them when they’re ready.” Dom promised you. “On the bright side, look how happy you’ve made them all.”

You looked around the wall again and saw Sam hanging an ornament on the Christmas tree. It was one of those ornaments that had all the names of the family listed on a bunch of frogs sitting on a log. Your name was on the ornament as well, a gift to celebrate your first Christmas with the family.

“Y/n, do you want to see a magic trick?” Harry called from his place by the tree.

“She can’t.” Paddy said. “She said she’d watch me practice football drills after dinner.”

“All of you are wrong.” Sam insisted. “Y/n and I are baking after this. She needs an excuse to wear the matching apron I got her.”

“They love you. And it’s Christmas Day.” Dom reminded you. “It’ll break their hearts to tell the truth now.”

“But what’s gonna happen when Tom wakes up and has no idea who I am?” You asked him.

“That’s not gonna happen for a long time.” Dom assured you. “He’s been in a coma for a month. Do you really think he’s gonna wake up in the new few days?”

A few days later

“Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone.” Nikki said as she came into the living room. “I just spoke to the hospital and I’ve got great news. Tom’s awake!”

“He’s awake?” Harry lit up.

“He’s awake?” You and Dom asked in unison as you looked at each other in fear.

“Yes.” Nikki clapped her hands. “We can all go see him now.”

“We can all go see him now?” You asked through a forged smile as you glared at Dom.

“It’s a miracle. Come on, Y/n. He’s gonna be so excited to see you.” Sam said as he pulled you off the couch by your hand. You gulped in fear as you got into the car with the family. Your heart raced the entire drive the hospital and on the walk to Tom’s room.

“Come on in.” The doctor smiled when he saw you all. “He’s been asking for you.”

You stayed behind the family as they piled into Tom’s room. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him sitting up in bed, eyes finally open after a month.

“Hi, Tom.” Nikki said softly as she sat on his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty.” He said as he licked his dry lips.

“Here you go.” Dom quickly handed him some water. “We’re so happy you’re finally awake.”

“How long have I been out?” He wondered.

“A little over a month.” Nikki told him.

“Wow.” His eyes widened. “An entire month?”

“Yeah.” Dom nodded. “You fell pretty hard.”

“Thanks for being here when I woke up. I’m happy to see you all.” Tom smiled as he looked around the room.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed when he saw you. You felt your heart stop as you didn’t even know he knew your name.

“Hi Tom.” You smiled weakly.

“What are you doing here?” His confusion grew as he struggled to sit up.

“Um..” You trailed off and looked at Dom for help.

“Honey, Y/n is your fiancé.” Nikki said slowly. “You remember that right?”

“My fiancé?” Tom frowned. “She’s not my fiancé.”

“Oh God.” You whispered as the family turned to look at you.

“Oh no. He has amnesia.” Dom gasped dramatically before winking at you. You gave him an angry glare as he continued the lie without consulting with you first.

“Amnesia?” Sam asked. “But he remembers us.”

“He probably has selective amnesia.” Dom continued. “He remembers us because we’re his family, but he probably can’t remember anything recent.”

“Right.” Harry looked at you skeptically. “Poor thing.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m sure his memory will come back soon. You just need to give him some time.” Nikki said as she rubbed your arm.

“Why don’t we give them a minute alone?”Paddy suggested. “Maybe that will jog his memory.”

The family agreed and left the room, leaving you and Tom with awkward silence.

“Here. I brought you some tea.” You said as you handed him the cup you had gotten him in the cafeteria.

“Oh, thank you.” He smiled warmly and took a sip. “You got my order right.”

“Well I make it everyday. Medium hot tea. Six sugars. For T.H.” You said softly as you sat down beside his bed.

“Right.” He smiled and looked down at his cup. “You always made it perfectly.”

The room fell silent again as you struggled with your next move. You had been keeping the lie up long enough and you knew you couldn’t keep it in much longer.

“I never liked black tea before you started making it for me.” Tom said after a minute.

“But you order it everyday.”

“The first time was an accident.” He admitted. “I didn’t know you could specify what kind of tea you wanted on the app. I was too nervous to say anything when I realized my order was wrong. But once I tried it, I liked it.”

“Oh.” You smiled a little at his confession.

“Or maybe I just liked you.” He shrugged without looking up at you.

“You know me?” You looked at him incredulously.

“Of course I do. You’re the cute barista that makes my tea every morning.” He said sheepishly as he toyed with his cup.

“How do you know I’m the one making it?”

“I only order it when I know you’re working. Why do you think I come in right after I place the order?” He asked you. “I’m always in the station already. I just want an excuse to go in and see you.”

“Really? I changed my schedule to morning shifts as an excuse to see you.” You told him.

“Are you serious?” He smiled and sat up a little.

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “All my coworkers tease me about my crush on you.”

“All my friends tease me about my crush on you.” He said excitedly.

“If you like me, why don’t you ever order in person?” You wondered. “That would give us a chance to actually speak.”

“I was working my way up to doing that. You just make me really nervous.” He admitted. “It took me a week to work up the courage to actually talk to you. Even then, the best I could come up with was “stay warm”. If I tried to order at the counter, I’d make a total fool out of myself.”

“You mean like I did when you talked to me?” You grimaced as you remembered your first conversation.

“I was the fool.” He shook his head. “I caught you off guard. I should’ve just gone up to the counter and ordered.”

“I wish you would’ve. I could’ve really impressed you with my vast knowledge of our holiday drink menu.” You joked.

“The last thing I remember is talking to you in the coffee shop.” Tom realized. “What happened after that?”

“Some guys on the tracks tried to jump you and steal your briefcase.” You told him.

“Did they succeed?”

“No. I threw a bagel at them and they ran off.” You chuckled. “Your briefcase is at home. I mean, your house.”

“Aw.” Tom smiled. “You saved me with a bagel. My hero.”

“I’m no hero.” You told him. “They picked up my bagel and threw it at you. That’s why you fell onto the tracks.”

“Oh.” Tom blinked. “Well I’m glad I woke up. Death by bagel sounds really embarrassing.”

“It was cinnamon raisin too.” You grimaced.

“Cinnamon raisin?” He gagged. “Disgusting.”

“So I’ve heard.” You chuckled and patted his hand. You let it linger for a moment until he flipped his hand around to lace his fingers through yours.

“What happened next?” He asked softly.

“I jumped down on the tracks and pulled you out of the way from the train. You’ve been in a coma ever since.”

“Wow. You saved my life.” He said seriously this time.

“You saved mine first.” You shrugged. “I kinda hated my job before you showed up. Seeing you everyday gave me something to look forward to.”

“You were always the best part of my day.” Tom smiled softly as he rubbed small circles on your hand.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Wait, when did I ask you to marry me?” Tom frowned. “I don’t remember that part. I thought about it a lot, but I don’t remember actually doing it.”

“You didn’t.” You sighed and dropped his hand. “I’m sorry about all of this. You must be so confused.”

“So we’re not getting married?” Tom asked, trying to conceal his disappointment as you got out of your chair.

“No. We’re not.” You told him. “This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had. It was all a huge misunderstanding with the nurse and now your family thinks we’re getting married.”

“Why didn’t you tell them the truth?” He wondered.

“I tried so many times.” You promised. “But your mom was so excited about the wedding and your dad didn’t want me to take that away from her.”

“My dad knows?”

“He heard me talking to you the first night you were in here. He’s known all along. He’s the one who convinced me to stay. Admittedly, it wasn’t very hard to convince me. I sort of fell in love with your family.”

“It seems like they fell in love with you back.” He said as he thought back to how they treated you. “Does anyone else know?”

“No.” You told him. “Which is shocking, because I spend just about everyday with them. I’ve been with your family longer than any of the others.”

“What do you mean?” Tom asked, and you stopped in your tracks. You didn’t mean to let that slip and now you had to tell him even more truth.

“I was a foster kid.” You admitted. “I’m used to bouncing around to different families. I just didn’t expect to get so attached to this one.”

“Whats gonna happen now that I’m awake?” Tom wondered. “They should know the truth.”

“They will.” You assured him. “Dom and I are gonna tell them everything.”

“But then what? What’s gonna happen to you? And…and to us?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and sat down again. “Your dad and I agreed that I’d leave you guys alone once you woke up.”

“You’re gonna leave so soon?” Toms heart sank. “But I just woke up. I haven’t even gotten to know you.”

“That’s why I have to go.” You smiled sadly. “I can’t imagine your family will want me around once they know I’ve been lying to them.”

“Oh. Okay.” He nodded in defeat. “But what if we-“

“Hey you two.” Dom interrupted as he knocked on the door. “Mind if I come in?”

“Sure.” Tom smiled tightly as he kept his eyes on you.

“I suppose you know the truth by now.” Dom said as he sat on the other side of the bed.

“He does.” You nodded. “I told him.”

“What do we do now?” Tom asked his dad.

“Now, I suppose we go back to normal.” Dom shrugged. “There’s no point in keeping up the charade now that Tom’s awake.”

“Right.” Tom said sadly.

“Don’t worry about telling the family.” Dom told you. “I’ll do it. I’m the one who made you stay.”

“Are you sure?” You asked him.

“I’m sure. I think it’ll be easier for them to understand if they hear it from me.”

“You’re probably right.” You sighed. “Thanks for doing it. I didn’t know how I was gonna be able to look them in the eyes and tell them I wasn’t gonna be around anymore.”

“I know. Hopefully they don’t miss you too much now that Tom’s awake.” Dom replied. “If you slip out tonight, you could make an easy break before I tell them. You should say your goodbyes to them now.”

“Okay. I will. Thanks for everything, Dom.” You said as you pulled him into a hug. Tom watched the two of you and felt his heart sink.

“I’ll miss you, sweetheart.” Dom patted your back. “It’s been lovely having you around.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You told him.

“I’ll give you two a minute to say goodbye.” Dom said as he glanced between you and Tom. Once he was out of the room, you and Tom exchanged crestfallen looks.

“Do you really have to go?” He asked softly. His eyes looked glassy in the hospital lighting, and you were sure yours were too. Before you could say anything, you heard cheering coming from outside.

“It’s midnight.” You smiled sadly when you looked at your watch. “Happy New Years.”

“Could you do me a favor before you go?” Tom asked.

“Anything.”

“Would you be my New Years kiss?” He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve missed the best holidays of the year and I wouldn’t want to miss out on-“

You cut him off by gently taking his face between your hands and pulling him into a kiss. You had imagined how your first kiss would be every time he came into the coffee shop, but you never expected it would be like this. He put his cold fingertips on your cheek as he kissed you back, silently willing you to stay a little while longer.

“Happy New Years, Tom.” You whispered against his lips.

“Happy New Years, Y/n.” He whispered back. Your eyes were shut, but he was still staring at you with soft, mournful eyes. You didn’t open your eyes as you got up and left the room, knowing it would be too hard if you looked at him. Tom watched out his room window as you hugged each member of his family. They had no idea it was a goodbye hug, and that’s probably why you made it last as long as you did. When it came to Nikki, you were at a lost for words as you held her as tight as you could.

“Do you have to go so soon?” She asked sadly.

“Yeah. It’s a work thing.” You lied. “They need me right away. I just wanted to say goodbye and tell you how much I appreciate you. I’ve really enjoyed spending time together.”

“So have I.” She smiled. ��But what’s with the sentiments? I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Yeah.” You smiled tightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You left without another word and wiped your tears once you were in the car. You never imagined being in a situation like this and you didn’t know how to deal with it. You stared at the hospital with sad eyes, knowing Dom was somewhere inside, breaking the news to the family. You’d really grown to love them in the time you spent together and knowing you were leaving them forever hurt you deeply.

A few days later, you were back at work at the coffee shop. Things had gone back to normal in the week it had been since Tom woke up. You hadn’t heard from the Holland family since they learned the truth, but you didn’t blame them. You slumped over your register and kept your eyes down at the bell above the door rang, signaling that a customer had come in.

“Good morning. What can I get you?” You asked without looking up.

“One hand in marriage, please.” Tom’s voice rang in your ear as a dainty diamond ring was dropped into the tip jar. When you looked up, you saw Tom with his entire family standing behind him at your register.

“Tom?” You smiled in surprise. “What are you all doing here?”

“Once dad told us the truth and we got over our initial shock, we decided that we didn’t care if the engagement was fake. We still want you around.” Niki told you.

“I mean, I wasn’t really shocked.” Harry admitted. “I kinda figured it was fake. You never said anything personal about him. It was always vague, generic statements that could apply to anyone.”

“I knew too.” Sam confessed. “Did no one else hear her repeated attempts to tell us she wasn’t his fiancé on that first day?”

“The point is, we don’t care if you’re not really Tom’s fiancé.” Paddy cut in. “We still want you to be a part of our family.”

“Really?” You asked hopefully.

“Really.” Dom said. “You’re always welcome in our home. Even if you just come around for holidays.”

“Yeah.” Paddy nodded. “And my football games.”

“And we have a magic show next month.” Sam added. “No pressure. But I did reserve you a seat. Isle seat. Your favorite.”

“And we have a standing date at that tea spot next week.” Nikki remembered. “Also no pressure.”

“No pressure, huh? Then what’s this?” You asked as you took the ring out of the tip jar.

“It’s not actually an engagement ring.” Tom told you. “It’s a promise ring. I know you and I have done things a little backwards in our relationship-“

“Like getting engaged and then meeting.” Paddy mumbled.

“So if you let me, I’d like to take my fake fiancé on a real first date. And then several more. Possibly for the rest of our lives.” Tom proposed as he held the ring up.

“And if you realize that you prefer Tom when he’s asleep like the rest of us do and don’t want to date him, you can just marry me or Sam.” Harry said cheerfully.

“Or we can drop Tom off at a fire brigade and adopt you.” Paddy added. Tom shot his brothers a look before returning to you with a hopeful smile.

“Thanks for all the offers, guys.” You said to the boys. “But I think I’ll stick with Tom for now. I didn’t spend all that time talking to his comatose body for nothing.”

“Is that a yes?” Tom asked. “Will you go out with me?”

“Yes.” You grinned. “My answer is yes.”

Tom let out a happy sigh of relief before taking your hand. He slid the ring onto your ring finger before lifting your hand to his lips to kiss it.

“Yay! We finally got her back.” Nikki clapped her hands. “These last few days have been so boring without you, Y/n. I don’t know what we used to talk about before you came along.”

“Um, excuse me.” Tom laughed. “Are you forgetting I’ve been awake these past few days? I didn’t realize your first born waking up from his month long coma was boring. Seriously, when did you get my whole family to like you more than me?”

“It was while you were sleeping.” You said through a boastful smile. Tom smiled back before taking his scarf off his neck and looping it around yours. He tugged the ends of the to pull you closer to him until your foreheads were pressed together.

“Come here, darling.” Tom said. “You owe me an engagements worth of kisses.”

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babblydrabbly · 3 years

Text

Kinks and All (Harley Quinn x F!Reader x Rick Flag)

Pairing(s): Harley Quinn x F!Reader; Harley Quinn x F!Reader x Rick Flag; Rick Flag x F!Reader; Harley Quinn x Rick Flag;

Word count: 19.5k

Rating: Nsfw, smut, fluff, some hurt/comfort. Drunk sex. Squirting. Strap-ons. f/f sex. m/f sex. Voyeurism. Praise kink. Face sitting. Riding in general. Fingering. Penetration. Massages. f/f/m sex.

Warning(s): Language, blood/violence/injury, guns, mentions of Harley's past toxic relationship with/brief appearance by the Joker. Post-The Suicide Squad (2021) spoilers. Major canon divergence.

[ A/N: Is it too much to ask to be railed by two beautiful beings?? Loosely inspired by the sentence prompt: "I'm either joining you or watching you. You pick." Takes place across Birds of Prey and The Suicide Squad. I really enjoyed writing something poly like this. At almost 20k, consider it my magnum opus lmao. If you have the time, please leave a comment on my ao3 or on here; I read all your comments and I love the feedback :) ]

The first time Harley shows up you want nothing to do with her.

The second time she shows up and helps you with your apartment problems, you think maybe you'll never get rid of her.

The third time... Well. The third time and all the times after, you were beginning to suspect a pattern.

Especially one day when she comes home with her boyfriend Rick.

"You have to take her."

Puzzled, you removed an earbud with a sudsy hand and asked your coworker to repeat what was going on.

“I’m not training her!”

You wiped yourself clean on a dry towel, hurrying to follow them out into the front of the store. You were greeted by the sight of a very pale woman with short pigtails dyed cotton candy pink and blue.

Harley Quinn is wrecking half your coffee shop before you can shout 'Put that pitcher down'.

She looked ridiculous in one of the brown aprons you all had to wear behind the counter— You couldn't fathom where she found a spare one. You weren't aware your boss had even hired anybody.

And she'd found the cupful of permanent markers meant for putting dates on the milks and went to town on her ‘uniform’. You immediately noticed happy faces, a crude illustration of a beaver, and even cruder words that were sending customers into fits. Your coworker had run to the back where you were finishing up midday dishes, not yet aware of the storm that had blown through the front door.

You weren't a trainer, but the other baristas didn't want to approach the criminal within ten feet. On the other side of the counter, patrons were quickly packing their things and leaving the shop.

You'd later learn that Harley had gotten the job by— well— telling your boss to give her one. You heard rumors of persuasion via cartoonishly a large mallet, a baseball bat, even a homemade bomb strapped to her chest. But Harley just shrugged, grinning wickedly. She was in dire straits at the moment, she explained. Something about a bad break up and an even worse financial situation. She had to lay low; You almost balked at her idea that threatening your boss's life to sling coffee made her a legit career woman now.

The bottom line was that Harley Quinn had decided to wreak havoc on your store, and nobody was going to do anything about it. You'd almost wished she would just rob your cash drawer and leave already.

But that wasn't how you operated. And you certainly weren't going to put up with it for less than minimum wage.

So you shoo'd her, even dared to smack her with the bristly end of a broom a few times.

"You can take your checks and leave. But I'm going to run this store like it needs running." You state firmly to the Crime Queen of Gotham (You definitely don't admit how you hid in the walk in freezer for a brisk five minutes to calm your nerves— You know, after doing something so fucking stupid).

But instead of coming out to the store on fire, you saw Harley at the bar, shaking up teas and pouring them out with the kind of experience you suspect might have come from bartending at one point in her life. She called out names, added way too much whipped cream to everything, and when she got bored—Which was a lot— She'd come to the back of the store and just— talk.

You learned a lot about Harley Quinn in just a week or so.

She wasn't chalk full of secrets. She was an extrovert through and through; she offered you pieces of her story without waiting for judgement, which you in turn offered none of. You didn't understand half of what she was saying, but it compelled you nonetheless. In between the bits about her carefree attitude and more interesting crimes, she’d slip in something that made you stop what you were doing. Stop pretending to half listen in order to give the moment the full attention it deserved.

“He what?” You say one day, making Harley stop mid sentence as she blazed on.

“Hm? Oh, well. After Batman showed up, Mr. J didn’t want to get caught so I stayed behind to distract ‘im, ya know?”

“No,” You said carefully, setting the damp drying towel in your hands down. Harley sat on top of the dishwasher as she dug her fingers through an open back of espresso beans, delighting in the feel of it. You had ignored how she just ruined five pounds of coffee— anything to keep her occupied. You watched her, your hands going to your hips. “You said… he left you there.”

“Oh!” The blonde shrugged. Shrugged like you weren't processing something so fucked up. “Well, yeah, he had to book it or we woulda both got caught, so.”

“What happened to you?”

Harley thought about it, popped her gum as she chewed it over. “Arkham. Six months, I think." Then she waggled her eyebrows at you. "Six months before I got out, anyway.”

She winked, tossing you another dirty jug to wash, which you miss and it goes clattering to the floor.

And so it went, for another week, her intensity an ebb and flow. You got a kick out of how she'd still decide to come in hungover, her make up from the night before an absolute mess. You found her in the freezer, asleep against the shelves.

Crouching down before her, you took one of her hair ties out of her tangle of a bun and redid it, securing all her messy stray hairs. She stirred, snorting a bit before her head dipped back down, returning to sleep.

Despite her penchant for talking, she never stuck around after her shift— always disappearing off to do what Harley usually did, you assumed. When she invited you to watch a roller derby game, you were unsure. You got the idea that maybe you’d like meeting her somewhere else— somewhere not full of screaming fans and violence. You tossed the thought immediately, as if indulging in some so banal was something Harley Quinn was capable of.

And you didn’t get the chance to ask anyway.

You woke up to the news of the Ace Chemicals factory explosion on the other side of town the next morning. And when you went into work, you're completely unsurprised when Harley doesn't return.

---

More weeks passed, and more news about activities that screamed Harley Quinn on the television. After more explosions and the fiasco at the pier, you figured she was back in full swing with her life of crime. Good riddance, the petty part of you thought. The part that didn't want her in your store in the first place.

But another part of you was sad to return back to normal. You did your dishes with your music in your ears again— Something you hadn't done in weeks thanks to your chats with Harley. You went through your days, your thoughts wondering about what life would be like if you just did whatever the fuck you wanted to do. Like her.

One day, you got the news that your landlord wanted to raise your rent. You're blindsided at the illegality of his asking price, and the way he leers when he says it. You could barely afford it now, he knew. So you tell him to give you two weeks— Two weeks to pack up and find somewhere new. He graciously acquiesced, and you want to take the baseball bat you kept by the front door and pummel his face in.

But you don't. You never would.

You go into work. You take orders. You do the dishes.

You closed up the shop that night with tears in your eyes. Wiping your snot on the bottom of your stupid apron, you jumped when you turned around and saw someone waiting for you there under the streetlight. You screamed.

"Hey, pumpkin!" Harley was beaming. Her hair was shaggier, down around her shoulders. She was wearing flared leather pants and platform boots— and a bedazzled blazer buttoned up with nothing else underneath.

She was about to say something else when she saw your red eyes and wet cheeks. "Hey, what the hell’s a matter?”

You wiped at your face hurriedly. "Nothing." You tried, "You uh, you look nice."

She bounced back, her grin returning. "Like it? Just did a big job— Got my own business goin' for me now."

You nodded, a bit of that jealousy returning. "Is that where you went?"

Harley lifted an arm, something beeping in her grasp. Another beep answered from beside her— A car, parked and apparently all hers. Jesus, you thought. You wondered if she lifted it or if it was really Harley's.

"You never showed up to the derby." Harley began. You were completely surprised she remembered. Frowning, you ran a hand through your sweaty hair, your scalp still aching from keeping it up in a lazy bun all day long.

"Yeah, I guess it just wasn't my speed, something like that." It wasn't a complete lie. You'd heard about how rough those games got— How many broken noses could happen in one night. The thought of blood and violence had always made you sweat a little.

But Harley seemed unperturbed. "Oh! Well, why didn't ya say somethin', dummy?" She approached you, slinging her arm around your shoulders. "We don't have to go to a match! We can do somethin' else."

"Something else?" You repeated, feeling your feet follow her to the car. You wanted to stop in your tracks. Maybe normally you would have. But the sooner this conversation ended, you realized, the sooner you'd have to go home and pack up your things and look for a new place to live. The thought alone made your stomach sink, and you found yourself letting Harley open the passenger side door for you.

"Yeah, whatever you wanna do! What do you get up to, [Y/n]?" She said, like you're the enigma. You shrugged as she hopped over your legs, plopping down in the driver's seat. The car roared to life. Your cheeks heated up as she flashed you a suggestive smile, her boot pressing down to rev the engine a few times.

"Well, maybe I— " Something that would take up time. Something you wouldn't normally do. You thought of what Harley would do. "Maybe we could go... drink a little? Get a drink and dance?"

Harley squealed, clapping excitedly. "Thought you'd never ask, sweetums. Where's your place? Let's get you all dolled up!"

"Uh —No." You said suddenly. "No. I... I don't want to go home."

The confession came out pitifully, the tears from earlier threatening to resurface. And as if Harley understood— Really understood the words I don't want to go home— She pulled out onto the street without asking anymore questions about it.

That was the most you remember clearly. From there, you remembered driving through the city in Harley's convertible. A stop somewhere with bottles and bottles of liquor. You could recall picking from a selection of clothes, just not where they came from.

But mostly you remembered letting go.

Harley took you to a nightclub in a part of Gotham you’ve never ventured. It was an old warehouse, the music echoing around the bare foundations.

And neither of you paid for any drinks. If she wasn't sneaking a tumbler away from some other person not paying attention, she was simply ordering them and walking away from the bar; You followed nervously as the bartender hollered for her to come back, but she paid them no mind. The two of you disappeared into the crowd. She did it all with a smile brighter than the lights around you.

You drank, you danced, you let Harley pull you toward her, her hands clamping down on your hips as she moved to the music. She had the kind of bliss on her face you thought you only saw in movies— And she was feeling it right here, with you.

You remembered the lights flashing around you. And then, her face— inches, then centimeters in fant of you, then no space at all. Harley was kissing you on the dance floor, your lipsticks mixing to form a new bruising shade across your lips and chins.

By four in the morning, there was no way the two of you were getting into a car. You couldn’t even remember where it was parked. Harley stumbled along, grabbing your hand as you wandered in the street— Three times you tried to look for the convertible, and three times you remembered you should be trying to call a ride share on your phone.

You reached the harbor on the edge of the warehouse district. You threw yourself on the rail, hanging there to feel the wind blowing through Gotham from the water, swaying and giggling. Harley draped herself over your back; Her platform heels made her a few inches taller than you.

After you both laughed at nothing for a while, Harley's breathing slowed, her mind drifting as you stood there.

"How come ‘y don't wanna go home?" She slurred. You hummed questioningly in reply, hoping if you leave it, she'll forget she even asked you. But Harley stayed strangely quiet, waiting.

You shrugged, feeling the weight of her chin on your shoulder. "Getting kicked out soon." You admitted. Then, "Landlord's kind of an asshole. All my shit... I don't even know if I can take it all with me —Where ever it is I'm gonna end up."

After a beat, you looked at each other. You saw Harley's dark lipstick smudged over her pale skin. Her mascara was runny, mingling with sweat from hours of dancing. You couldn’t imagine how you looked to her right now. The two of you bursted into laughter.

Eventually, you ended up in a loft that's not yours. Harley tried putting the key in the door and failed several times. She huffed and kicked, until you have to stop her and unlock it yourself. Harley ushered you into her place— Definitely a step up from that shithole she had described to you before she disappeared; Whatever 'business' she had started, it really was working.

But it still had all of Harley's oddball charm. There was a stirring in the kitchen, and she told you not to mind her sleeping dog. At least, you thought she said it was a dog. You heard a strange cackle echo through the room, and decided to leave it alone.

Because suddenly, Harley was kissing you again. You felt as she cupped your face in both hands, dragging you as she walked backwards toward her bed. You chuckled breathily as you both tumbled onto the fuzzy pink blanket laid unevenly over the mattress. Then, your chuckle turned into a moan as she nudged her knee between your thighs, her skin rubbing against yours beneath the hem of your borrowed skirt.

Harley flipped the two of you over, getting on top of you. You remembered the pleasant warmth of her hands on your hips, your waist. You played with the button on her blazer drunkenly until she's ripping it open, fabric falling away to expose her bare chest. You reached up, palm one of her breasts as the two of you kissed. Harley made a happy sound.

She bit and nipped you. Makes you yelp as she travels down your body, marking you along the way. You soon got your skirt off, your top. You couldn’t remember the last time you'd felt this good and not felt self conscious at the same time. Soon, your hips began to roll, your need for friction making you thrust yourself against Harley's thigh still between your legs.

You moaned when she slipped a hand down between you, her fingers sliding into your wet, waiting cunt. You buck when she presses down on your clit, and Harley pulls away to grin wickedly at you. You whined, your own hands still wandering her body.

"You're adorable, you know that, pumpkin?" She teased. You felt yourself blush as she watched you, her fingers working their way in and out of you, her thumb pressing and circling your clit.

For some reason, you liked the way she's watching you— The way it feels like she's playing with a toy she can't get enough of. You bucked again as you feel that tight coil of heat winding through your core. She curled her fingers inside you; You rut your clit against the flat of her hand wildly.

"Harley," You whimpered. You threw your head back, made yourself shut your eyes. But Harley's other hand was there, turning your chin back toward her.

"Wanna see that pretty face while you're comin', sweetums. You gonna come for me?"

You nodded your head, your lip quivering. You were going to come. You could feel the fullness inside you threatening to burst. You spread your legs wide for her, cupped your knees taut so she can angle her fingers right where you need— Right where you start seeing stars. Harley kept her eyes on you as you finally came, a wet gush from your pussy coating Harley's already wet fingers. She kept fucking you through your orgasm until you were shaking.

In your drunken daze, you heard the echo of your own voice in your head, remembering how you were moaning and writhing just now beneath her. You felt like you were there, on the bed, but also somewhere else, looking at the two of you from afar. Face flushed, you opened your eyes again to see Harley grinning.

"I was right— You're too fuckin' cute when you're comin'." She said, licking her fingers.

In the morning, you nearly forgot where you were.

At least, you thought it was still morning.

There weren’t any clocks around Harley's bed, and when you looked down to see yourself without a bra, you had to guess your phone was somewhere on the floor with the rest of all your clothes.

You also looked down to see— You blushed, ripping the covers off of yourself. Buckled to your hips was a leather strap-on set, a glittering blue dildo still attached to it. You looked up and around so quickly you almost gave yourself whiplash.

"Harley?" You called. You stood up from the bed, undoing the clasps of the toy from around yourself. You let the strap-on drop to the floor as you rubbed the bright red lines left on your waist and hips from wearing it all night. You tried her name again, only to be met with another one of those silly cackles from the kitchen.

Using the bedsheet as a wrap, you wandered over to the table— And screamed.

A hyena, nearly as tall as your waist, was lying on a dog bed beneath the kitchen table. It's tags jingled as it startled just as you had, grinning nervously. You backed away from the kitchen and stumbled over the sheet tangled around your ankles.

"Mornin'!" Harley called from the front door.

You groaned. Whatever you had to drink last night must have been 90% sugar, because your scream and tumble left you noticing a definite hangover.

Harley kicked the door closed with her foot, a white bag of bagels and a tray of coffees in either hand. "I got good news, sweetums!" She stepped over your pathetically crumpled body, hurrying over to the animal still in the kitchen. Was she talking to you or the hyena?

After some very affectionate kisses from her pet, she stood up again, turning to you with a wide grin. "That apartment of yours? Consider it yours yours."

You blinked. "My— What?"

"What! Your apartment! I took care of it. Trust me— You do not have to worry about that piece of shit slumlord'a yours anymore."

"How'd you even —How'd you know where I live?"

"You told me, genius." She said, like it was the most obviously thing in the world. Then she was giving you another one of her little eyebrow wiggles. "You know, after you fuckin' railed me last night."

The heat returned to your cheeks. Then another thought more pressing than your shyness made you sit up. "Wait, you didn't— You didn't kill him did you?" You whispered.

Harley crouched down, handing you a coffee. You ignored how it was from the rival shop a few blocks down from your own store. "Wow, you must'a been real gone last night, huh?"

You paled. "Did I kill him?"

She narrowed her eyes at you, then, as if changing her mind, she snorted, laughing. "Nah— I just roughed him up a little. Told 'im to leave ya alone. That's what you wanted, right?"

You cupped your hands around the warm paper cup thankfully, avoiding her gaze. Last night was still coming in flashes for you. To your embarrassment, you remembered tearing up a little when Harley finally got you to tell her about your problems.

Finally, you glanced back up at her. "Thank you, Harley. You didn't have to do that."

She surprised you with a resounding slap on your bare arm, standing back up.

"Consider it my pleasure, sweetums. Oh, and also consider it a thank you, because we are definitely doing that little trick you did last night again."

---

You don't know how— You thought maybe after that morning she would go back to her world of freedom and crime, that maybe she'd simply disappear again as she pleased, because she was Harley fucking Quinn, and you had the impression she didn't want to be tied down. Not after what happened with the clown who would not be named.

You don't know how, but you and Harley had turned into something. Friends? More? There were days when she would just turn up to the shop and order something absolutely stupid— An extra dry almond milk cappuccino with ten pumps of dark chocolate peppermint stupid.

"It's gonna taste like garbage." You warned, knowing her sweet tooth. Harley took a sip, and you laughed as she spit it out, even if it meant you had to clean up the counter now.

"That was fuckin' toothpaste." She blanched.

You dared to make fun of her— Always with affection, of course. Dared to tell her when you didn't want to do what she wanted to do. She managed to wrangle you into watching one of her derby matches, and you sat in the stands biting your nails as you worried about her getting too hurt— Or hurting someone else too badly. You chastised her for throwing too many elbows, and Harley relented from making you come to any more games if you were just gonna be a baby about it.

It's what she liked in you. You had a soft heart, but you didn’t lack fire or a sense of humor.

Harley played with the bath bubbles in the tub as you tended to a few scrapes on her face after the game. You made sure to use an antiseptic that didn't sting, and you bought bandaids to put in your medicine cabinet just for her— Cartoony bandaids that said 'pow', 'bang', and 'bop!' in bright colors. You sat on the toilet seat, content to watch her lay her head back and relax.

There were other days, though. Days when Harley would get in a spot of trouble and disappear for a week or two longer than you liked. You worried a line across your living room floor, reminding yourself that this is what she did. This wasn't something that was going to change. Don't stress over what you can't control. You wouldn't dream of controlling Harley Quinn.

Eventually, she'd return to you with a black eye or a fractured rib. You'd curse, knowing it didn't matter what kind of bandaids you had in your bathroom— There were parts of Harley's world you'd never be able to handle.

But instead of getting mad, instead of turning her away, you let Harley into your apartment every time. When months turn into a year, you think that maybe she'll never do anything to make you turn her away.

Until one day, she really does disappear.

"Harls?" You called. You pushed the door to her loft open, groceries in your arms. Your mind is half on what gross, expired food you expect to find in her fridge and half on not letting Bruce get out through the front door when you stop in your tracks, the bags of groceries falling to the floor.

The place is ransacked.

Furniture was turned over, glass broken. And by the silence, you know that Bruce is nowhere around. You swallowed thickly as you tried to stay calm. You couldn’t decide if you should walk around the apartment and make sure nobody's there, or run out and ask if they've seen a hyena anywhere in the hallway.

Later, when you came back to check on the loft for the fifth day in a row, the manager of the building told you what you didn’t want to hear: Harley was picked up by some cops downtown. She'd driven a car right into the front of a bank and they'd booked her for "armed auto robbery". They came by to see if they could get anything else on her, and were charging her with possession of an exotic animal too.

"Booked herself a one way trip back to Arkham, I bet."

And you wished that were true. You wished she'd be as easy to find as a small boat ride away to Arkham Asylum. For all the useless things you could do for her, at least you could visit her there. But when you get to the hospital for the criminally insane, they tell you Harley's not with them this time. Nobody seemed to know where Harley was this time.

Your lip quivered on the way back to your apartment, alone. The manager of the loft wouldn't even let you clean up her things; Now that she was incarcerated, they were happy to change the locks and toss out all of Harley's stuff.

It hit you harder than you expected. You had friends before Harley Quinn, but now they seemed like acquaintances compared to that burning, living thing you had with her. You couldn't even really tell them what you were going through, because the moment you explained that you were involved with Harley, their assumptions would spill out: That psycho’s ex-girlfriend? That court jester in a latex suit?

When your co-workers at the shop finally asked you what's going on, and you tried to explain it again— They rebuffed the idea that you— responsible, normal you (Boring you, they meant)— Could ever get along with her, you felt your fist clench unexpectedly. It shook there at your side, until you have to get up and excuse yourself from their conversation.

Weak. You felt weak, and people thought you were weak. Helpless. Weren't you just crying last year when you let your landlord walk right over you? Didn't you need Harley to swoop in and fix it? And what did you do for her?

You sat outside the back of the coffee shop with your head between your knees. You think of lipstick lips and that funny smile. How Harley was always tugging you along—

And it had to be for a reason, didn't it? Or were you just as naive as any sucker who walked in Harley Quinn's path.

When you exhaled, you sat back up, clarity washing over you.

The next day, you started with Bruce.

It took some time, but eventually, you tracked down a few stores in town that sold animals of the more exotic kind. When you made your way into a seedy shop a week later, you found not just Bruce, but another hyena, crammed in the same sad, cramped kennel. Bruce whimpered when he saw you, his nose nudging through the bars.

"Three grand each." The owner grumbled. And you smiled, letting him know that your boss would get back to him with the money soon.

You picked the back door of the store later that night, just like Harley showed you— By bashing it in as quickly as possible and nabbing whatever the fuck it is you gotta nab.

You leashed up Bruce, and hesitantly, you leashed up the other one too. You didn’t know what to call him for now, other than 'good boy', when they both trailed after you. You felt bad about the other animals; You had half a mind to uncage them all and set them free on Gotham— But besides eating each other and getting run over by cars, you figured you put a pin in it and come back with a better plan.

And despite the jail break, Bruce remained melancholy at his new home in your apartment. He let you cuddle him now, his big body taking up most of your little couch as the other one napped on the floor. "I know, Brucie. I miss her too."

---

Harley Quinn didn’t know what the fuck she was gonna do— All she knew was where the fuck she’s going next.

Rick is still in bad shape when they all get back to the U.S. They're all dirty, tired, and so over this fucking Suicide Squad. Milton— Robert, sorry— seems to know what he's doing next, and the rat girl— Ratcatcher the Second?— Seems content to follow him.

And the giant shark... Harley's tempted to keep him as a pet, but he wants to roll with the Ratcatcher girl too.

"Well, shit!" Harley said, kicking at the ground. That just left her with Colonel Boy Scout didn't it?

Ah, who was she kiddin'? There was a reason she went back to pull the big lughead out of the rubble. Aside from the fact that she really hoped he wasn't dead dead— He didn't leave her behind. So neither would she.

Rick can hardly stand when the helicopter leaves them to fend for themselves. They stabilized him on the trip home, but he still had a gaping, angry hole in his fucking chest. Harley's pretty sure he's already ripped a couple of stitches just standing up. Rick grunts as Harley gets under one of his arms, helping him stay on his feet.

"Harley." He insisted again. For the millionth time. She rolled her eyes. "I can make my own way. Y'don't need to let me drag you down."

"Can it, Flag." Harley retorted— She needed to think.

"...Don't s'pose you have a safe house in the Southeast corner of the United States." He picked the weirdest times to make idle conversation.

"Do you?" She quirked a brow.

"Think it's safe to say all my funded resources burned up with DuBois' Hail Mary back there. And any back-ups, for good measure."

"Fuckin' Waller."

Rick nodded his head faintly. "Fuckin' Waller."

"I gotta place." Harley finally offered. "We've just got about a thousand fucking miles to go."

You were asleep on the couch, the hyenas curled up in a pile in the corner, when the front door booms. You startled from sleep, yanking the covers over you. Ever since she’d disappeared, it had felt strange sleeping on the bed. Maybe because it was too far from the front door. At least here, you’d be ready to jump up when… when—

You almost don’t believe it when the door thumps again, Harley’s familiar four knocks rattling it on it’s hinges. Bruce laughs excitedly. You don’t even check the peephole as you felt yourself fly to the door.

“Jesus, you knock like a cop.” You say, your normal greeting. The grin plastered on your face dissipates when you see the state Harley is in. Harley— And someone else.

“What…?”

“Miss me, [y/n]?” Harley steps over the threshold in a pair of ballet flats and leggings, a terribly ruined red dress tucked into the hem. You suspected there was more to the dress before, but now it was more of a tattered blouse with some red frills at the bottom.

Harley is dragging a man— A very tall, big man— Into your apartment. He’s wearing a yellow t-shirt that’s mostly red now, reminding you of mustard and ketchup. He’s got a brown coat over his shoulders. The two of them together look like they rummaged the garbage bins behind a thrift shop (They had). He’s hardly walking straight, his head lolling forward to the point where you think he may fall face first onto your living room rug. You shut the door behind them, mouth gaping a little.

“What the hell happened?” You finally uttered.

Harley threw the man onto the couch unceremoniously, then reached for the ceiling in a big stretch. She’s covered in cuts and scrapes.

“Some government coup thingy. I got another stupid, freaking bomb in my neck— Hopefully it doesn’t kablooie before I can find someone to yank it out. Oh, and there was this giant starfish motherfucker. You didn’t see it on the news?”

“I— Bomb in your neck?” You followed her around the room as you followed her every word, trying to discern what was crazy talk and what was real. “I… haven’t been watching the news.”

You hadn’t been eating, you’d barely been sleeping. In the few months Harley was gone, you’d been trying to look for her. But apparently there was a reason she’d disappeared without a trace.

There was a pained groan from the couch, and the two of you looked over at the man lying there.

“Oh, this is Flag, by the way. Rick Flag. Certified ex-patriot now, I guess.” Harley introduced with a shrug. Before you can ask, she’s heading to your bathroom, the sounds of her digging around your stocked medicine cabinet as your first aid kit supplies toppled all over the place.

“Um, why is there some Flag guy here too?” You called after her.

“Uhhh, we’re— Friends.” Harley explains uncertainly, and you don’t love the way she’s dancing around it. She sticks her head out of the bathroom to finally look at you. “He saved my skin, now I’ve got his.”

“Oh.” You said quietly, glancing down at him. You saw the way his face contorted, even as he laid there, unconscious. His light brown hair stuck to his face, dirty and disheveled like Harley’s. “He looks like he’s in pain.”

A loud squeak, and the sound of your shower bursting to life. “Oh, big time.” Harley called back.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth as Harley got to work scrubbing all the starfish guts off of herself— Finally. In the meantime, you joined her in the bathroom, grabbing a bottle of painkillers and a clean washcloth. You dampened it under some cold water and wring it out before returning to the living room, where Flag— Rick, didn’t stir.

Carefully, you pressed the folded towel to the man’s forehead, wiping away the blood and grime. A frown formed on his lips as you worked your way down his cheeks and chin, his eyes prying open to look at you.

You drew your hand away tentatively. “Am I hurting you?”

Rick shook his head slowly, struggling to swallow.

You frowned, hurrying to stand up. “Shit. Let me get you some water.” You said, excusing yourself.

A while later, Harley walks out of the bathroom, unsurprised to see you doting over her knock-off Captain America.

“How’s he lookin’, Nurse [y/n].” She quipped. She’s wrapped in your bathrobe, her hair wrapped up. You see that she’d given herself another dye job since you last saw her, the red and black pigment bleeding onto your white guest towel. You huffed, shaking your head. How many times have you told her that shit in a bottle would fry her blonde hair?

“I think he needs a hospital, Harley.”

She waved you off. “Hosptial-shmosptial. Once I go downtown tomorrow I’m gonna find a bone doctor who owes me a favor. Don’t worry your lil head.” She stopped short of the couch, gasping.

“And who is this!” She squealed. The sound seemed to summon the hyenas, who pattered up to her simultaneously. As if rehearsed, they cuddled up to either side of her, lapping at her cheeks in greeting. “Oh, Brucie! I thought I was gonna have to go spring ya from somewhere! Did you miss momma?”

You smiled at her voice as it raised in pitched, making the animals’ heads tilt back and forth. Harley looked up at you with a lip splitting grin. “How’d you find ‘im??”

You shrugged, trying your best to sound nonchalant. You busied yourself with dabbing ointment over the gashes on Rick’s arm. “I have my ways.”

Harley squealed again, scratching her new hyena under the chin. “I’m gonna call you… Wayne.”

“Bruce and Wayne?” You said, unimpressed. “What is with you and that guy?”

“That guy? Don’t cha think he’s Gotham’s hottest bachelor?” She teased.

“I guess anyone’s hot when they’ve got a bazillion dollars.”

“Exactly. He’s hot and he’s got a bazillion dollars.”

Harley skips to the kitchen and throws together a sandwich as you finish up with Rick. You wrangle off his shoes and belt, but there’s nothing much else you can give him in the way of comfortable clothes. The shirt he had on was tight, but it’d be nothing compared to trying to squeeze him into even your biggest sleep shirt. So, you adjust a pillow under his head, leaving a new glass of water and the bottle of painkillers on the coffee table for him.

Harley quickly brushes the crumbs from her sandwich off your bed while she thinks you’re not looking. You chuckle, shaking your head as you join her. You leave the shutter doors to your bedroom open, so that you can both keep an eye on Rick and the hyenas.

It takes every bit of willpower to let Harley finish eating the last of her food and not yank her into a hug. An I-thought-you-might-be-dead-for-three-months-straight hug. The moment she swallows the last bite, you take the plate from her and toss it onto the bedside table. When you turn back, she’s the one to clamp her arms around you.

“I missed you.” She says. You feel the discs in your back crack from her squeezing, and you squeeze her right back.

“I didn’t know what happened to you.” You whisper. “I didn’t know where you went.”

“I always weasel my way outta trouble, pumpkin.” She gives you a big kiss on the cheek. You snort when she blows a wet raspberry.

You both collapse back on the bed to hold each other for a while before Harley adds, quietly, “Thanks for opening the door.”

In the morning, you feel Harley detangle herself from you just as the sun crested your curtained windows. You grumbled, trying to cling to her, but she knew just where to tickle you under your arms to get you to relent.

She throws on one of your band t-shirts and a pair of jeans from a drawer you kept some of her things in. She doesn’t accessorize today, so you suspect she meant business. God help anyone in her way when she had serious errands to do. “Be back, sweetums. Keep an eye on meatball over there til I get back?”

You found yourself gulping as she kissed the hyenas goodbye and shut the front door behind her.

The sound of it’s slam startles Rick Flag awake.

Half delirious and sore from head to foot, he shoots up from the couch, eyes flying around in a kind of poorly contained panic.

You jump up. “Hey— Hey, you’re alright.”

Rick looks at you like he doesn’t remember stumbling through your threshold last night— And it’s true. He remembers lying down in the backseat of a pick up truck, something Harley must have hotwired back when they’d started heading North. He remembers a few stops for gas and being thrown a bag of fast food as Harley tore across state lines straight for Gotham.

He remembered climbing a set of stairs— Impossible stairs that took everything out of him— And then stopping at a front door. Your front door.

Rick glances at it behind you as you quickly take a seat on the coffee table in front of him. He remembers that too.

You give him the same unsure, worried expression as last night. And your hand is there again. Without a towel this time, you don’t hesitate as you press your cool hand to Rick’s forehead. His skin is searing. He had sweated through a fevered sleep last night, in and out of it for what seemed like hours.

“Fuck. You’re burning up.” You curse, pulling your hand away. He’d gotten worse, just like you feared.

“Shower.” He ground out—dazed— like he’s in shock. You reel back when he staggers to his feet. He searches your small apartment for the bathroom. You trail after him, flushing when he reaches over his head to yank his tattered shirt right off. You dart your eyes away.

“I— Harley said she was going to try to find you a doctor. Maybe we should wait until—”

“I’ve been wearing this fuckin’ filth for a week, Lady. I’m takin’ a damn shower.”

Fuck. His throat. Rick can hardly speak, his vocal chords still shredded from the yelling, the fighting— The nearly dying.

You worry your bottom lip. Whoever Rick was, he seemed like a man on a mission now. You sigh when the shower starts running— You supposed the least you could do was find some more towels.

You reach your arm into the bathroom when you find one, carefully putting it on the sink as you try to avert your gaze. But you can’t help when you peer through the steam. See the flashes of skin as Rick rubs himself down with the bar of soap in his hand. You swallow— He wasn’t kidding about the filth. He’s covered in blood and grime, and more wounds you couldn’t even see under his clothes.

You leave Rick to his own devices. Pacing around your kitchen, you wondered how long Harley was going to take.

She’d be back soon, right? She wouldn’t just leave you in your apartment with some strange, grumpy man if she didn’t think you couldn’t handle it. You looked at Bruce, knowing that if you called for help he would spring into action. You had that at least.

So, you do the only sensible thing you can manage— You start making breakfast.

With Harley back in your life, all you can think to make is something too sweet.

Chocolate chip pancakes. You make a few big ones with extra rainbow sprinkles added to the mix and set them aside for whenever Harley returned. When you run out of batter, you start scrambling some eggs. You tap the spatula against the pan nervously, glancing back at the bathroom once in a while. Bacon? Should you make some sausage links too? You dip your head into the fridge to see what you have left when you hear a huge clatter. And then a thud.

You ran to the bathroom.

Instead of Rick standing under the spray, you see his cloudy form from behind the frosted shower door, sitting down. In a flash, you slide the door open and shut the water off, prepared to see fresh blood somewhere.

But you don’t.

Rick is sitting there in the tub, staring ahead blankly. You keep your gaze on his face, trying to ignore the rest of his bare form. Which was tough, you’d never admit. Even sitting there, injured and catatonic, he was like a stoic sculpture. You shook your head, your face flushing.

“Rick,” You tried. When he doesn’t respond, you move the shower doors over again so that you can crouch directly near him on the other side. You move your hand to touch his shoulder, but falter in the end. You’re not even sure if you should move him.

You give him a moment. Watch him sit there and stare at the faucet.

“...The fuck am I gonna do now?” He suddenly mutters. He looks up at you then. It startles you, the way he seems more aware than you thought he was.

What the fuck had happened?

Harley didn’t tell you any details last night, and you didn’t ask. All you knew was that whatever took her away from you, it involved Rick Flag too. And now you think this state he’s in isn’t entirely because of his injuries. You’d never seen someone like him looking so lost. Looking at you— a stranger— for answers you couldn’t possibly have.

“I don’t know.” You finally manage, as honestly as you can. Taking the towel, you unfold it and gently pat it around his face still dripping with water. “But I think all you have to do right now is rest, Rick.”

Rick lets you stand him back up, lets you towel him off there in the bathroom. He watches you with an intensity that unnerves you, but you press on, coaxing him out of the tub until he’s wrapping the towel around his waist and following you closely out of the room in a haze.

“Here,” You instruct. You pull the blankets off the bed for him and wait for him to slip under the covers. When he hesitates, you muster a stern look that usually works on Harley. Apparently, it works on Rick Flags too. Towering over you, he brushes past to do as you say.

He settles into your bed awkwardly. You tell him not to move next, that you’ll be right back. From across the apartment, you feel his eyes continue to watch you.

You take a carton of broth out of your kitchen cabinet and pour it into a pot over a new fire. After it warms, you put it all in a big mug and bring it back over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. By the time you’re back, Rick has settled in more, his eyes fighting unconsciousness again as you set the mug on the bedside table.

You check his forehead with the back of your hand this time. Rick seems to stop fighting it then— You watch as he exhales deeply, finally slipping back into something like sleep.

You spend the rest of the morning quietly on your laptop in the living room. You fall down a rabbit hole; You start with searches about big news around the world. You search for anything involving Harley Quinn— Until you find the story about Corto Maltese.

You watch the footage. Read the comments. You follow links until you’re on a website that discusses metahuman conspiracy theories. You search for anything related to Harley again, because you can’t find a damn thing about Rick Flag. There’s clips of Harley hopping from building to building, wielding a giant weapon you don’t even recognize, but you don’t see anyone wearing that ridiculous yellow shirt and combat boots.

By the time your front door swings open again, you’re looking up, bleary-eyed. Golden, dusky light is flowing through your windows now. Jesus. How long had you been sitting in one spot?

Harley is dragging a terrified looking man by the collar into your apartment. She’s holding a gun— Something you have banned time and time again from your home.

You open your mouth, and Harley cuts you off. “Yeah, yeah— I know. It’s not loaded though! Promise.”

“It’s not??” The cowering man whimpers. Harley throws him inside, tossing a large medical bag onto his lap after him.

“Before you get mad, sweetums, I want you to know it took me forever to find this little piece a shit. You wouldn’t believe—”

“Tell me what the Suicide Squad is.” You say, cutting her off right back. You fold your arms as Harley blinks at you. You know you’ve hit the right cord, because she’s making that face— Cringing as she tries to spare you from the gory details of her life.

“Look, hun. You don’t wanna know about that stuff.” She tells you. “You almost fainted when I told you how I got Brucie.”

You huff stubbornly. Of course, she was right. But between the sobbing man on the floor and the comatose man in your bed, you wanted answers. “You got sentenced in Gotham and they sent you to a fucking island in South America. Tell me how that makes sense!”

Harley stares at you, then at the laptop still open on your coffee table. Suddenly, she’s slamming it shut and throwing it out the open window like a fucking frisbee. You hear it land in pieces three stories down on the sidewalk below.

“HARLEEN QUINZEL!” You shrieked.

“LOOK, [Y/N]— You don’t wanna know, alright!” Harley defended, throwing her hands up. “It’s not a big deal!”

“You eviscerated a monster-sized sea creature with a giant toothpick, Harley!”

“It was a javelin, okay!” And it wasn’t exactly from the sea, from what Harley was told after it had been slayed.

“Whatever!”

The two of you were hollering. As you feel the beginnings of a panic attack blooming, the three of you— Harley, you, and the doctor still on the floor— turn toward the bed when a broken groan interrupts your shouting match.

Rick shifts warily in his sleep, drawing his arms out from under the blankets to ease his fever-flushed skin. Harley’s attention whips to the doctor.

“You.” She snaps, pointing the gun at him. “That’s your patient, you got that? You better fix him by the time I get over there in a minute.”

“Fix him? I don’t even know what’s wrong with him yet! And you said that thing isn’t loaded!”

She narrows her eyes. “You think I need some lousy bullets to kill ya with a gun?”

He shutters, though a little confused, and scrambles to his feet. Dragging the medical bag behind him, he gets to work checking over Rick in the other room.

Harley turns back to you. She twists her lips as she tries to think, tries to ease your growing worry.

As much as she liked the look on your face when she told you about her escapades in the beginning, she’d grown to hate doing it now. You were kind— Stupidly kind. And patient. God, you were so nice to her, even when she was teasing the shit out of you. Sure, sometimes you put your foot down— And Harley loved that about you too. She loved you. And she knew that the look on your face right now was nothing compared to what it would be when you found out about the squad. About her stints in Belle Reve— Which she’d never mentioned before. Ever.

Harley approaches you, putting her hands on your shoulders gently. “I promise, [y/n]. You don’t wanna know. Just trust me on this one, okay? I know it’s weird with Flag here ‘n all, but once I get some stuff sorted, you don’t gotta worry about it, alright?”

You exhale, your breath shaking. You reach up to clasp your hands over hers, your head nodding up and down.

“Alright... Fine. Yeah, okay.” You relent. “But you are explaining him eventually.”

“Flag?” She says innocently.

You arch a brow. “I’m not dumb, Harley.”

“Hey, I know you ain’t!” Harley grins. “Alright— So we’ve fucked a few times. But I meant what I said about him savin’ my life and stuff! You know me, pumpkin.”

You did know her. And she was just about as fond of labels as you were. You glance over at Rick.

You and Harley had never been exclusive. Sure, you didn’t date much, even before her. But you never minded what Harley got up to when she wasn’t around you. Sometimes she’d even bring someone over— Someone she knew would get you all hot and bothered— Just to watch you open up and be the person you wanted to be. Harley brought out an adventurous side of you that would have remained untapped, otherwise. Her confidence was contagious. And she had yours, no questions.

So when you saw Rick Flag, giant and muscular and leaning on Harley in your doorway, you weren’t sure what Harley was aiming for. Was she really just helping him out? Or was there a reason she brought him to you in the first place?

“He’s a good guy.” She said beside you, as if reading your mind. “Like, a really good guy. Used to think he was just another rifle totin’ asshole. But it turns out he’s nicer than he thinks he is.”

You chuckled softly at her fond little look. The unease from your day of internet snooping began to unwind from your stomach. Over by the bed, the doctor stood up straight to look at the two of you.

“He’s got an infection.” He announced. “That’s what’s causing the fever. I can give him some antibiotics you’ll need to help him take. Whoever sewed him up did a rough job, but without some x-rays I wouldn’t suggest doing anything about the sutures on his chest until you know what happened.”

Harley rolled her eyes. Meanwhile, you felt like you just might throw up. You sit down while she makes a deal with the man to bring Rick into his practice when he can stand again— Without threatening the doctor’s life from now on. She shoo’d him out the door, shutting it firmly behind him on the way out.

Harley sighed as she plopped down beside you on the couch, her arm wrapping around your shoulders.

“There ya go. All sorted.”

You nodded tiredly. Leaning into her, you rested your head on the back of the couch. “Still have to keep an eye on your boy scout til the fever breaks.”

“Right. About that.” Harley started. You groaned. “Hear me out! They got my apartment when they nabbed me, but they didn’t find my stash of cash. Momma’s still rolling in it, as far as you’re concerned, sweetheart.”

“And?”

“And! I want you to take a few days off with me.” She explained. “A week, maybe two. I get my shit straight again, you stay home and take care of lil Ricky! I missed you, ya know.”

It’s not the plan you expected. Harley was always trying to get you to quit your job at the coffee shop ever since she scored with that group of women she called The Birds. But you always pushed back, always told her that she had her life and you had yours. You knew Harley got a thrill out of treating you to pretty things; So long as they weren’t too expensive, you didn’t mind it either. It’s just not why you loved being with Harley.

But ever since she disappeared, the thought of two weeks with her back was looking pretty nice right now.

Before you can even say yes, Harley can see by the look on your face that she’s won. She cheers gleefully, wrapping you up in another big hug. You shushed her— Reminded her that Flag was practically still in need of an ICU— And then you were silencing her with a deep kiss. Smoothing your thumbs over her cheeks as you kiss her, you make sure to smear some of her lipstick over your own mouth playfully.

When you pulled away, the crime queen was still smiling that smile. The one you were all too familiar with.

You blinked. “Oh no.”

“Heh heh.”

“Nope. Not when someone’s lying right there in my bed, Harley.”

She pushed you over, grinning against your neck as you stifled a laugh. “C’mon, pumpkin. You know you like when someone’s watchin’.”

Your cheeks burned. “Didn’t you steal your car back or something? I feel bad that he’s not even conscious.”

The two of you shoot a strained glance over at Rick as you embrace each other. If he was awake, he made no indication of it. Harley sat back up, her hand gliding up and down your thigh suggestively. You feel that familiar tingle make its way up your arms.

“Alright.” She gave in. “Ya had me at car sex.”

---

So you put in for a two week vacation, arguing with your boss that you’d never taken a day off since you started at that damn shop. You gave a huge finger to him as you walked out the door, just like you know Harley would— Except that you weren’t Harley, so the finger was 100% just in your mind.

With nowhere else to go, Harley shacked up with you when she came home at her odd hours. When she had to lay low, it meant she was more inclined to do the things you did, ie. staying in. You were almost glad to see her irregularly again. Anything was better than when she was gone.

Flag, however, remained on your bed for days. The first thing you set out to do was buy him some clothes— You weren’t going to try shimmying him back into his weird tactical pants and boots. You hoped he was a jeans and v-neck kind of guy.

You’re on your new laptop— Harley lifted you a new one as an apology for the other night— When he finally startles from another troubled dream. His fever had finally broken the day before.

“Shit.” He grumbled, his hand flying through his hair. You make your way over from the kitchen with a mug of water and a blister pack of pills in your hand.

Sitting down beside him, you push some more antibiotics out of the pack and offer them to Rick. He doesn’t move to take them. He stares at you, his brows pinched— Like he’s trying to figure out what he should do. You shake the handful of white pills at him.

“You’re doing a lot better, but you have to keep taking these til they’re out.” You explained gently.

Rick looked around the room, then down at himself. He was wearing a white shirt, and from the waist down under the covers, he could feel a pair of pajama pants on him. “...How long was I out?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Two, three days.”

“Who dressed me?”

You pressed your lips together, embarrassed.

When Harley got back home the other night and saw what you got him to wear she patted you on the head and snickered.

“Hey, you got ‘im your favorite kinda undies!”

Your cheeks warmed; They’d been doing that a lot lately. You didn’t even notice you’d bought him a pack of black boxer briefs that yes, were the kind you liked to see on men. When she asked why you hadn’t dressed him yet, you got flustered— He’s… naked?

Harley had chortled all the way to the bed, ripping the covers off of Flag unceremoniously. You put your eyes everywhere else but him as you handed her each article of clothing. She slipped them over his sleeping form in a quick minute.

Harley patted your face when she was done as if to say You’re so dang precious, Pumpkin.

“Uh, Harley and I have been making sure you’re recovering alright.” You said now.

Rick eyed the pills for a moment more before that tired, detached expression returned to his face. He plucked them from your hand, dry swallowing them without reaching for the water.

Harley fucking Quinn.

Was she ever not surprising Rick? Perhaps in the fray, when she decided to do exactly the opposite of what he told her to do— That was a predictable brand of chaos Harley was always throwing at him. But going back for him?

It was a fucking miracle the rubble hadn’t crushed him. Harley had followed DuBois halfway to the helicraft before she’d stopped short. Her gut was telling her something. Or was it you? Caring, sympathetic you, talking to her from a million miles away.

He’s still down there, you would have said to Harley. Yeah, you didn’t know who the fuck Rick Flag was, but if you had known— This is how Harley’s brain jumped hoops to justify it— You would have reminded her that he would still be down there. When the other bodies were cleared up and the city tried to rebuild, they weren’t going to lay his remains in the ground. They were going to bulldoze right over him.

The harddrive had been his last legacy. And now that they needed it as leverage against Waller, even that wasn’t going to see the light of day.

Just like Rick. Down there. Alone.

He was half dead when Harley and DuBois topple the last piece of rubble from off of him. Rick was white as a ghost, blood loss and fine debris making him ashen. It takes some coaching from Cleo to get Nanaue to hoist him out of the rest of Jotenheim’s foundations. By the time they all take off from Corto Maltese, Harley’s still not sure it was all worth the effort. But sometimes you saw the bigger picture Harley just didn’t bother with. Sometimes.

It takes half the flight to recover him. And when he wakes he’s still asking about the mission. Through the anesthesia and the now closed up hole in his chest— Rick still wanted to know if the squad had prevailed. It was funny watching his expression as they all tried to explain their big showdown with Starro. But as the adrenaline died away and the reality of what next set in, Harley could see it in Rick’s eyes— He didn’t know yet. Didn’t realize that a mission accomplished wasn’t enough this time. They’d fucked Waller good and hard. And now Rick was in the shit with them.

“Don’t go back there, mate.” DuBois had confided in his friend. He had nothing else to offer the Colonel. He had to worry about getting his daughter out of Louisiana as quickly and quietly as possible the moment they returned. But he hoped it was enough to wake Rick up. “Just don’t.”

Fuck, Rick thinks now. Fucking shit show.

Rick sighs and takes the mug from your hands anyway, gulping it all down in a few swallows.

“So what’s your deal?” Rick asks you, setting it on the table beside you. “You were on a crew with Harley or somethin’?”

“Huh?”

“Harley.” He mutters. “Said she had a contact up here in Gotham. Kinda thought you must have ran together if you’re so willing to take us in.” Or you owed her one. Rick figured that was just as likely.

“No. I mean— I technically have a strike on my driving record for double parking in college... But I don’t have a car anymore so it’s kind of a moot point.” You replied. Babbled, really. You weren’t expecting a conversation. Taking the dirty dishes off the nightstand, you hurried over to the kitchen to put some distance between the two of you.

Rick lets you fret from the other side of the room. He glances around at your fluttering white curtains in the meantime, your bookshelves decorated with trinkets and baubles. He notes the pots and pots of house plants in every corner. If the pastel pink rug set he can see from the bathroom floor isn’t enough of an indication, the framed photo of you and Harley beside the nightstand clock is. He puts it all together.

This wasn’t a safehouse. This was your house.

Rick pulls the blankets off, biting back a grunt as the motion pulls at his chest. He’s searching for something to wear— Something that wasn’t what appeared to be Superman printed sweatpants currently hanging off his hips. He finds his boots tossed into a corner, bending down carefully to snatch them up. He sways when he stands, cursing under his breath.

“Hey, wait! What are you doing?”

“‘Preciate the hospitality. Think I’m good now.” He said to you curtly.

It was hard to take him seriously when he was literally winded just from trying to slip on the pair of jeans you’d laid out on the bed. You scowled. Meeting him at the door, you dared to put yourself between him and his exit.

“You’re joking, right?” You snapped. Rick straightened to his full height, glowering down at you.

“You got me on my feet. I can handle the rest from here.” It’s a shitty farewell, and not one you’re going to accept. You move in his way again as he reaches for the doorknob, folding your arms over your chest. Rick scoffs, arching a brow at your sudden attitude.

When he reaches for the door a third time, you bat his hand away, and Rick is placing his grasp on both of your arms firmly.

“Listen, Lady. I don’t know how much Harley told you, but I’ve got some shit to sort out.”

Your heart is in your throat. You don’t know how angry he’ll get when you push back again. But Harley left you in charge of this bonehead, and you weren’t going to let him walk out that door.

“I get it.” You shrugged, unmoving. Your eyes dart down pointedly to his shirt. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s more important than that.”

Rick’s bid at intimidation falters when he follows your gaze, another curse slipping out when he sees it— A blossom of red, slowly spreading from the dead middle of his chest. It soaks his shirt, unmistakable. He steps back and yanks the white cotton away from his skin. “Shit.”

“I know you people are all about getting the fuck out of town whenever you feel like it, but I don’t think you’re going anywhere til I take you to get that patched up.” You said.

It wasn’t checkmate, but it was enough to get Rick to stop moving around. He stares down at his own chest, that glassy look washing over him again. You almost expect him to collapse the way he’s staggering away from you, his legs backing into the sofa. He falls down into the cushion, his hands flopping onto his thighs.

You give him a moment. When he doesn’t move, you cross the room, sitting carefully beside him on the other half of the couch. Hesitantly, you reach out your arm, brushing your fingers over the hair above his ear to smooth the locks there.

Rick blinks up at you, his eyes widening. Because it’s not an unfamiliar touch. Far from it.

He recalls now, as sleep had come and went, how you’d been doing that all weekend. If he closed his eyes, he could remember the feeling of your weight dipping the bed beside him, your hand checking his forehead habitually again and again. It began to move after a while— Across his temples, down the back of his head. The feeling of finger nails combing the soft hairs patiently at the nape of his neck.

The skin around Rick’s throat and shoulders prickle at the sensation of your fingertips gently combing through his hair again now— The memory of a fever, and of being cared for. ‘All you have to do right now is rest.’

Rick sizes you up again there beside him. The scrutiny makes your touch shy away from him.

Still, you take a breath. You look at Rick squarely. “You’re not overstaying your welcome. I really don’t have any idea what it’s like.” You admit. “But I’ve known Harley long enough. If she says you’re safe here, then you’re safe here.”

“...Who are you?”

You shrugged then, extending your hand. “[Y/n] [Y/l/n]. Nice to meet you, Rick.”

Rick takes your grip firmly in his, calloused fingers grazing your soft ones. He cracks the hint of a smile then— The first expression you’ve ever seen on him that doesn’t leave those deep, worried lines around his face.

It thrills you to see it. You think about how you’d doubledown, say yes to this arrangement with Harley three times over just to see it again. You don’t know where the thought comes from, only that it’s the truth.

---

Rick doesn’t just need x-rays and a few more stitches. He needs corrective surgery and months to recover. You bite your nails while Harley argues— threatens— the malpracticing doctor some more at his skeevy little facility. You didn’t normally tag along with Harley on her criminal adventures, but she needed help getting Rick on his feet and staying on his feet.

His asking price is enough to make your eyes widen. And when he points out that making him nervous while he’s got a scalpel hovering over Rick’s heart might be a bad idea, you have to hold Harley back by the waist to keep her from pummeling the small man.

You take Harley aside, ask her what she’s willing to do for Rick’s sake. She sighs, annoyed. Like you two were budgeting for groceries and not bargaining for someone’s life. Crossing her arms, she went back to the doctor a little calmer now.

Fine, she’d pay a pretty penny to keep seeing Rick’s pretty face. At the rate she was bouncing back in Gotham, she’d be making enough dough to fund her own damn charity. Not that she would. (Although, the Harley Quinn Foundation for Hotties In Need of Surgery felt like a pretty solid untapped well of opportunity, in her opinion).

Rick comes back home a little weak again, but with his ticker intact and good as new. You feel overwhelmed that Rick seems to be back at square one; You go back to bringing him things to eat in bed, and Harley brings home a large inflatable pool float in the shape of an ice cream sandwich for the two of you to sleep on in the meantime. But she’s so damn happy about the way things turned out.

And okay, you’re pretty happy Rick’s recovering well too.

When you have to go back to work again, you make the decision to take less hours so you can be home for Harley and Rick. You start to feel comfortable whenever she leaves you with him. She was right. As apprehensive as he had been about taking over such a large space in your home, he was never rude about it again.

And Rick has a way of getting you to open up. His questions don’t feel like prying or pulling teeth. He’s bed-ridden, and still a little sullen about it. You realize he’s trying to keep his mind off of the shit that’s out of his hands at the moment. You set your tablet or book down to give him your full attention, and he listens. Like he’s really interested in all the coffee slinging and tv watching and Harley wrangling.

“So. You two are…?” He trails off one day, sitting up in your bed.

He got sick of watching the television after the first three or four days he could get up and move around. You offered him a few books, and he winds up reading some thrillers about government espionage and spy games. You bite back a smile as Rick reads them throughout his days, chuckling or snorting every once in a while— Like he’s reading something funny. It must seem funny to him, you think. His world laid out in inaccurate fiction.

You pause the show on your laptop this time, glancing up at him from your spot on the couch. He waits for you to answer without more preamble.

He’s got an idea. You and Harley don’t just share a bed whenever she’s home. You’re not just friends. He’s woken up before daybreak— His usual routine without any of the working out or working in general now. It’s a habit he can’t break. Not after years and years of never wasting daylight.

He’s seen the two of you. One big bundle under mounds of covers. Harley tends to hold you like a koala bear, and you like to fall asleep combing your hand through her long locks. And he’s heard the two of you; You’ve still insisted on not messing around with Rick in the apartment recovering. But the soft sound of a kiss every once in a while in the night doesn’t escape him.

Rick doesn’t have a problem with it of course. But he does wonder if you know— If you’re aware of Harley and him. He’s thought better than to mention it to his host, in case you somehow weren’t conscious of Harley’s more open nature.

You give it some thought, running your fingers over the keys without pressing down. You shrugged. “We’re together when we’re together.” It’s how you put it now; You’re tired of trying to explain it to other people. But Rick nods thoughtfully, considering your answer.

“You know how she is.” You add. And he quirks a brow, looking over at you again. You can’t stop the knowing smile from spreading.

He chuckles. “Can’t tie Harley Quinn down.”

“Unless she asks nicely.”

The look on Rick’s face sends you over the edge, your smile splitting into a wide grin.

In another week, Harley comes home again. She’s delighted to see Rick up and moving and aware again. She crashes into his lap, much to your horror for his health, and planted a big kiss in his hair.

As you cooked up some solid food for dinner, you giggled to yourself while Harley and Rick shot the shit— He had a sailor’s mouth just as terrible as Harley’s. And though you knew some of the things they skirted around, The squad, The mission— were left vague for your sake, you enjoyed the way they both seemed to cheer each other up.

Rick insists on taking the couch now that he’s not so ill. It’s far too small for him, comically so. Harley points out that the bed is big enough for all three of you, but when a dire look of uncertainty crosses your features, Rick waves her off.

“It’s no problem, [y/n].” He’s slept in far worse places.

You shake your head. “No way. I’d rather just bring another mattress in here if that’s what it takes.”

“Hey, that ain’t a bad idea! The sandwich was fun the first night but I think I jabbed a hole in it at some point.” Harley considered.

“You did. With that weird studded belt I told you to take off.” You chided her.

“Nag, nag, nag.” She stuck her tongue out at you and you rolled your eyes. Turning to Rick, Harley rested her head in her arm against the back of the couch. “What d’ya think, Colonel? Bunk beds?”

Rick humbly shook his head. “Whatever’s right for you.”

The blonde smirked, reaching up to take his chin in her hand. “You ever get tired of cowing that handsome head of yours down, Flag?”

You didn’t think it was an awful dig, but Rick doesn’t seem to see the humor in it. You purse your lips a little, nudging Harley with your foot. You’re on a chair beside the coffee table, with Rick and Harley on the couch.

“Play nice.” You scold.

Harley gives you a challenging look, still holding Rick’s chin. “Play nice, huh?”

And before you know it, she’s pressing her lips to Rick’s in a long, heated kiss. You watch Rick’s hands fly up, though they don’t rest anywhere on Harley. After a moment, he seems to realize where he is again, and abruptly pulls away.

“Harley.” He warns, eyes flashing over at you. And his tone sends a jolt up the crime queen’s spine. She beams diabolically. Taking her thumb, she smears some of her lipstick off his parted bottom lip.

You’re in your chair, watching as Harley shoots you a look from over her shoulder. Rick looks at you too, the warning bells that he’s crossed a line in your home seem to be going off behind his eyes. You suck in a sharp breath.

Christ. They’re waiting for you to say something, but all you can really think about is how Harley’s edged her way onto Rick’s lap again, that hand still gripping his chin. How Rick’s fingers hover just above Harley’s skin, when all you really want is to see them digging them into her hips.

“You know what!” Harley suddenly said, breaking the silence. She slaps Rick’s shoulders, bounding off of him. Rick grunts at the action, bewildered. She gives you a little pinch on the shoulder as she makes a beeline for the coat rack by your front door. “Just remembered I forgot to grab a carton of cigs on the way home.”

“You don’t smoke cigarettes.” You replied, a little dazed.

She shrugged herself into a denim jacket with a big iron-on patch of her derby team on the back, then she turned and aimed a shrug at you. “Back in a jiff.” She hollered, and plunged the apartment into silence.

“[Y/n],” Rick started. You ignore the beginnings of an explanation, stacking up the dinner plates on the coffee table and taking them over to the kitchen. You hear Rick ease off the couch and follow you.

“I don’t know how much Harley’s told you about her ‘n me...”

He trails off, stopping a few steps away. You’ve turned around at the sink, leaning back to get a good look at Rick Flag.

His brow furrows.

The look on your face doesn’t scream mad. Or even irritated. In fact, Rick watches your eyes drift downward, down the long hard lines of Rick’s chest and arms. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth as you bite it gently. And when you glance back up at Rick’s face, it’s clear he’s picking up what you’re putting down. What Harley put down a few moments ago, when she sealed your attraction to Rick Flag with a kiss.

You push off the counter and right into Rick, his arms catching you as you take his face in your hands. You make sure not to touch his chest as you lean up, crashing your lips to his hungrily, almost clumsily. A low sound leaves Rick’s throat. He slides his hands over your back, letting them come to rest on your waist as he kisses you back with same fervor.

You pull away abruptly. “Bed.”

“You sure you—?”

“Bed.”

You tug him by the arm, tug him until you’re pushing him down onto the blankets and crawling on top of him. As you shift to seat yourself on Rick’s upper thighs, you feel the hardening length that’s growing between his legs.

Because fuck— Rick’s been bored, anxious, and in pain for nearly two weeks. He’s been sleeping in your bed, smelling your pillow; He’s been hearing you and Harley under your sheets from across the room most nights, trying his best not to picture anything untoward. You’d taken him in, and he was still trying not to overstep.

But you’ve been wanting him to. Ever since he’d started speaking and moving around. You glimpsed him shuffling around your house— How fucking hot he looked just sitting there reading a damn book. Not to mention his past history with Harley. She’d already teased you about it.

“You picture the two of us together yet?” She’d asked a few nights ago as the two of you sat in her car drinking milkshakes. There was a third one melting in the cup holder for Rick as Harley painted the picture for you. Your panties had gotten wet just thinking about Harley and Rick out in the middle of some desert or jungle, rutting it out against a tree. You squeezed your thighs together, whimpering when Harley reached down and pushed her fingers between them.

Now, you felt slickness return. You moved on top of Rick— You weren’t going to let him get too physical with his heart. You frame his head with your elbows as you lean down to capture his lips again. Rick slips his strong hands beneath the hem of your shirt, drawing it up as he pulls the fabric over your head. You lean back to unclip your bra, slip it off in one motion as you stare down at him.

Rick’s cock twitches in his pants. Whatever your dynamic was with Harley, he was starting to see the appeal. You make easy work of the drawstring at his waist, your hand moving down to grasp his stiffening length from inside his briefs. Rick arches a little, inhaling sharply.

By the time Harley Quinn comes back from her ‘cigarette run’, you’re fucking Rick Flag like he hasn’t been fucked in a long time. — Which is the honest to god truth. You roll your hips atop him eagerly, meeting his hard thrusts as he fucks your soaked pussy. You throw your head back as he digs his nails into the flesh at your waist. You place your hands over his, keeping them there while you bounce on his cock.

“Fuck. Fuckin’ hell, [Y/n]. That’s it.” Rick picks up quickly how you keen at his words; His voice sends your pulse shooting straight up— That deep drawl that gets rougher the more he groans against your neck driving you crazy.

Harley flops onto the couch, all smiles. She’s got a twizzler hanging between her teeth, the plastic bag of candy and soda and chips making a sound as it hits the floor, but neither of you notice. Your ears are too full of the sound of Rick’s breathing, his ragged panting as he trails his lips across your breasts.

“Rick- Rick-,” You feel yourself tipping towards a climax. You’d do anything to come with Rick inside you like this, your pussy moulding around his girth, white hot.

“Shit, you’re gonna fuckin’ come for me aren’t you, baby?”

You whine as he picks up the pace, knees bending for more purchase over the sheets so he can fuck up into you harder. You jump when Rick’s hand comes up to slap your ass.

“I’m— I—” Your back bows taut as it washes over you, your walls clenching around Rick. Your hips snap on their own accord now, your grip on his hands tightening. You can tell by the way Rick’s hips are suddenly bucking and stuttering that he’s reached the same peak. He groans as he leans up to kiss your throat, hands prying themselves from yours to wrap around your middle as your breathing slows.

“Fuck...” Rick says, panting and spent. Then: “—Fuck! Shit, Harley!”

Harley bursts into her little cackle, bouncing happily. She was content to watch the two of you like she was watching two puppies at play. Sighing dreamily, she stood up, coming over to the bed. Rick doesn’t know what to do with himself as she plops down onto the mattress. His hands move to cover your bare back, but then he seems to realize that doesn’t make sense— It’s nothing Harley hasn’t seen before— But you smile at the gesture nonetheless.

You wrap your arms around Rick’s shoulders, your fingers smoothing back the tousled, sweaty hair that was pressed into the pillow a moment ago. Harley stretches out beside the two of you, propping her head up in her hand.

“This okay?” You ask Rick before Harley can tease him anymore.

Rick looks at the two of you, brows pinching together. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to discern. But between his life being over and you just giving him a damn good ride, he supposed it could be worse.

“...Yeah.” He finally says. “If it’s all good with you.”

“Good!” Harley grins. She shoots up to plant a kiss on his cheek bone, then moves to do the same to you. “‘Cuz somebody’s finishing me off next. I’m burnin’ up over here.”

---

You didn’t like to fret over labels, but as the months passed, you were beginning to wonder what this was.

Rick gets better. Some nights the three of you do end up sharing the same bed. And when Harley’s gone, you come to feel safe being in Rick’s arms at night too.

On good nights, you drifted off to sleep with the sound of two heartbeats and two breaths making you feel warm and safe on either side. On better nights you’d feel Rick’s big, rough hands, or Harley slender deft ones, slide over your hips and stir you pleasantly from slumber until they had you pinned and wanting more.

The dynamic between the three of you got more complex as the weeks went on. Harley and Rick had their history together, apparently dating back years. And you had your way of disarming them, of asking them with genuine curiosity about the things they hardly ever thought about anymore; Of childhoods and firsts and what life was like for them when it wasn’t all gunfire and smoke screens.

Rick couldn’t remember the last time he had a conversation that wasn’t briefings or comparing scars. It was… refreshing, the way Harley also seemed to leave shop talk at the door. It always eased the tension he held in his bones— The nagging thought in the back of his head that his old life was gone whenever he remembered what was outside these four walls.

So, Harley brought in the money, and you made the meals. Rick began to take care of the two of you in his own ways too— He found himself mediating when Harley was being too reckless, or when you became too beside yourself with worry when she got too reckless. Tie breakers were always a cinch now with three of you there.

He learned a lot about you intimately too. Harley was a wild card through and through, down for anything that the three of you put on the table. You were a little more shy about what you wanted to try; Rick found that you lost your inhibitions when he and Harley praised you in the bedroom, coaxing you into letting go a little more every time.

They both enjoyed making you fall apart into little, mewling pieces, your face flushing red hot as they both teased and worked you until you were an unraveled mess. And you liked to care for the two of them; When you topped one or both of them, your aftercare was sometimes more intimate than the fucking— Something neither Rick nor Harley ever seemed to get used to. To allow themselves to get used to.

Your coy nature had shown Harley that Rick was ever the gentleman in bed— Always a giver. She took it upon herself to push the boundary sometimes. Sometimes her brattiness would come forth, and a rougher, more dominant Rick would come out. Harley wasn’t content until Rick had her begging and screaming. It made you breathless, the way Rick would take control and order Harley around.

He wasn’t used to being with two people so often. But you and Harley never ran out of ideas. Or positions. When you had asked him if he was content with being included in this… circle of yours, Rick Flag didn’t expect to feel like such a major piece of it.

One night, after the three of you were finished and lying there, you drifted in and out of sleep to find Rick staring at you. Harley snored softly in your ear, her arms wrapped around you painfully tight, even in sleep.

“Where’d you come from?” He asks quietly, wrapping a lock of your hair around his finger. You nose at his palm until he’s cupping your face, smiling.

“I always meant to ask you the same thing.”

---

But eventually— Inevitably— Rick heals up well enough that you can tell what he’s thinking about: What he’s going to do now. He ventures out into Gotham once or twice, returning home sullen when he doesn’t seem to find the answers he’s looking for. You try to go about your days, try not to prod. You don’t have any advice for him. Not concerning this. Harley offers to give him something to do when she’s out and about; He’s ready for something— But he’s not ready for a life of crime.

Harley refuses to sit down when Rick asks the three of you to all have a seat at the table. He doesn’t have to say it. The three of you are synced enough to know what this is about. You’re sad about it, but you’re not going to stop someone who wants to be free. Harley on the other hand might just combust.

“You’re goin’ back.” She spits— Like Rick Flag is the dumbest fuckin’ moron who ever lived.

“I’ve got some contacts I have to touch base with down south. After that, don’t know what I’ll do.”

It doesn’t sound like a plan that involves you or Harley. You sit there quietly, feeling the tendrils of their dark, violent world muddying up the little home you’ve made with them.

“Say something, Pumpkin! Tell him he’s being a fuckin’ idiot.”

You lift one shoulder only to let it drop. Avoiding Rick’s gaze, you fiddle with the glass of water between your palms. “He didn’t exactly get a say in the way things ended.” You tried to reason. Harley scoffs. You do nothing when she kicks the table.

They had told you about what happened in Corto Maltese. In bed, tangled together, the two of them told you about Waller’s betrayal, about why Harley was there in the first place. You do your best to listen about the experiments. The Thinker’s thirty plus years of work. They try to sugarcoat it for you, but you shake your head— You need to know about this one. Rick stares at the ceiling as Harley fills in the blanks about Starro.

And as much awe as you feel, being sandwiched between two absolute badasses, you still have to keep from tearing up when Harley tells you she wanted to do good this time. Wanted to be good. They didn’t have to turn back and defend the city. They chose to. You wanted to meet the rest of this squad that banded together— who pulled Rick out of the rubble even when they thought it was too late.

You slept in a heap that night, unable to let each other go. You didn’t want to call the three of you something you weren’t, for reasons just like the one that was happening right now.

“Well here’s me sayin’ I told you so when Waller drags you back to her little base and puts a chip in your neck, Flag.” Harley says with a tone of finality. House meeting over. You flinch as she slams the front door on her way out.

The touch of Rick’s hand on your shoulder doesn’t give you the warmth you wished it would.

“I’ll be back.” Rick murmurs. But he’s packed a bag for the long haul. You stare ahead, feeling far away from yourself.

Then he’s gone too.

It feels like hours before you move from your seat. You curl up on the couch, alone, unable to lie down on the bed without anyone there with you. You listen to the hyenas snore at your feet until you drift off into troubled sleep, wondering how you could have let this broken feeling happen to you.

---

You were going to kill her.

You weren’t. But you were.

You were going to kill Harley Quinn because summer in Gotham turned you into a sweating, crazy mess— and Harley’s convertible top wasn’t just down. It was gone. Blown off somewhere on the city freeway during a car chase Harley forgot to mention. You mourn as you wait for her to get back to the car, the air conditioner pointless without a roof at the moment.

You drum your fingers on the wheel.

A season had passed since Rick disappeared. You reconciled with the way Harley had left you alone for about a week before she came back with a sincere apology. You apologized too, for not saying something when Harley had asked you to.

It had hit you harder than you expected, considering you’d only known Rick for a few months. But in that time, you had spent so much of it getting to know him, of getting to know Rick and Harley together that it felt like it was ripped from you when you didn’t know you were even holding it tight.

And you hated feeling helpless. Hated how Harley and Rick seemed so strong, while you weren’t.

So you’d gotten bolder since Rick left. You asked Harley if you could dip your toe in some of her more… daring hobbies. Harley lit up like a Christmas tree when she asked if you wanted to come with her to rough up some fuckers that tried to sabotage one of her recent freelance jobs. Sure, you told her you’d wait in the car— But it was a start. Especially for you.

You kept your eyes on your mirrors, and stayed vigilant about who passed by the building Harley was still inside of.

You can’t resist looking at the clock again; When Harley Quinn tells you she’ll be ten minutes, you know it’ll be anywhere between then and forty on a good day. But an hour was turning into an hour and a half, your shady parking spot on the street now exposed to the afternoon sun. You contemplate getting out of the car— the one thing she told you not to do.

Before you can make a decision, you hear the distant bang! of a door slamming open and the hurried sprinting of Harley booking it down the back alley right for you. You gasp, putting the car into drive; You slam on the gas as Harley flings herself into the backseat telling you to go, go, go with glee.

You drive through the streets of Gotham a little better and a little faster everyday. Harley was teaching you how to drive— Not better per say— but certainly with less fear. You began anticipating the rush of losing whoever was on your tail, of flying through the streets with the reckless abandon you never thought you were capable of.

You park the car in a garage far away from prying eyes, walking back home arm in arm happily. When you get back home, you babble about how exciting it felt to get away again.

Harley plops down onto the sofa as you claw your way through the fridge, starving.

“I can find an auto shop to fix the roof next time, what do you think?” You say, sticking your head in the freezer to cool off for a second. When you don’t receive a reply, you arch a brow at her. “Harley?”

She’s looking at you, and not looking at you. You’ve come to understand that sometimes Harley hashed things out in her head— Something about her conscience at occasional odds with herself. She blinks, eyeing you with more scrutiny.

“Hey, sweetums?” She suddenly said. Uh oh.

Smiling a little, you made your way back over to her, handing her a cold can of soda. You popped the tab on your own as you took a seat. “Yeah, Harley?”

She shifted to face you, crossing her long legs. “You know I love you comin’ with me and all.”

Uh oh.

“But…?” You said.

“But… I was wonderin’, you know this stuff is illegal, right? I’m not havin’ business meetings with upstandin’ citizens, ya know?”

Harley never treated you like you were stupid, so you wondered what she was trying to hint at.

“I know that.” You frowned a little. “What about it?”

Harley sighs, smiling at you like you dropped outta heaven and right into her lap.

She’s had daydreams about the two of you rockin’ badass outfits, kicking ass and taking names together. But even those imaginary dreams slipped when Harley thought about who you really were. You were kind, and strong, and empathetic; When Harley tried to picture you with a gun or a tire iron in your hands, she found she didn’t want to. It was like imagining Batman’s suit in pastel pink. Not that Harley didn’t love that either. It just didn’t sit right.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this, pumpkin? Luck’s been good to me lately. But it ain’t always easy getaways. I know you know there’s a glock in the gun compartment—”

“— Glove compartment.”

“See! That’s what I’m talkin’ about. You can’t even talk about guns. What if I need you to pick one up one day? What are you gonna do about it, hun? What about when the bad guys come out shootin’?”

You feel your high from the day fizzle out.

“I… I don’t know...”

You definitely weren’t pouting now.

Harley’s face twists sympathetically as she sets the soda down. She reaches to grasp both your shoulders. “I love you, Pumpkin. And… you’re kinda the first person I’ve loved in awhile who isn’t already down to curb stomp someone when they need to, ya know?”

You want to protest, but the image of smashing someone’s teeth against a cement edge makes you turn a little green. Okay, fine. Maybe she had a point.

“So… You don’t want me coming with you anymore?”

Harley makes a grumbly sound as she presses her lips together, because she definitely does love you tagging along. But inside, the Dr. Harleen Quinnzel side of her—the side that pointed out that if you continued, you might be the one to wind up on a curb— was shaking her head firmly.

“Maybe we’ll just… lay low for a while, alright? Consider that the last job I have sorted this month.” She offered.

You can see she’s trying so hard to be delicate. You relent with a disappointed but understanding sigh.

“Okay. I guess that gives me time to get the car fixed.” Then, you frown again. “Wait— Lay low? Why lay low?”

Harley has already perked back up, taking the open can from your hand and slamming it back with a few glugs. She burps loudly.

“Don’t worry about it, pumpkin. It’s all taken care of.”

It’s a lie that comes back to bite both of you, hard.

The summer continued, and the two of you needed reasons to leave the apartment. The air conditioner did it’s best, but it was nothing against the rising temperature in the city. You found new ice cream and coffee places to try, bookstores to mingle in, and movie houses to rewatch old classics.

The heat also seemed to make Harley extra horny. —She loved pinching your asscheeks in your short denim shorts and light colored t-shirts. Harley was fond of crop tops, and you had to admit you loved how she embraced being half naked in the heat. The two of you shared a large soda and popcorn as you watched an old black and white film up in the balcony seats of a picture palace. You appreciated the story, but when Harley’s hand inches over your bare thigh, you had no problem turning your gaze away from the screen.

She’s unzipping her shorts teasingly, slipping down into her seat. You glance around, noting there’s not another soul around up in the bleeders. You bite back a grin and lean over, capturing her lips in yours, tasting the salty sweet mix of red vines and popcorn.

You have your hand halfway down her pants when a voice that wasn’t some old timey starlet suddenly fills the large room.

“Public displays of affection! Romantic.” Harley yanks away from you, nearly making you fall into her lap. You blink, seeing her sudden fury and a flash of fear.

“Pumpkin. I need you to get down and start crawlin’ okay?”

“I—”

You gasp as Harley shoves you onto the sticky floor, the rapid fire of an automated gun tearing through the theater. There are a few screams down below, but all the bullets seemed to be aimed right at the two of you. You see Harley do a backflip over the seats, drawing the fire away from where you just were. Without thinking, you do as she said, hurrying to from the center of the balcony to the far edge.

A flurry of cushion stuffing and smoke filled the air, and you wanted to call out to her. But she was moving, fast, disappearing up the stairs and back out through the upper lobby. From your hiding place, you peer down to look at who had ruined your day.

You startle silently when you see a head of acid green hair and a pale, tattooed face from all the way down in front of the screen.

“Bring her back to the pier.”

“Warm or cold, Boss?”

You shiver when his laugh echoes off the walls.

---

Shit, fuck, fucking, shit.

What were you doing?

This was really just a case of not getting to know Harley’s other friends like you kept telling yourself you would. If you had, you wouldn’t be here alone. You’d be here with the Birds, or with Poison Ivy or something. You crouched behind a wall just outside where they were keeping Harley, knowing full well you were about to do something so unbelievable stupid.

The gun in your hand is heavy, unnatural. It’s bizarre how real it feels. Harley bothered to show you how one works, but you still hold it like it might jump and bite you at any moment.

You really hoped you werent too late. You don’t know what you would do if you were too late.

Inside, Harley came to, her head spinning. She’s tied to a concrete pillar standing up, which is a lot better than hanging from the ceiling by her ankles over a shark tank— Or not waking up at all.

She’s already thinking six ways to Sunday how to get herself out of this one by the time the grunts around her realize she’s awake. Harley notes that one clown in particular is not present. She huffs when the others finally notice her looking around.

“Hiya, boys.”

“Harley.” One of them says gruffly.

“Is this about last month? I honestly didn’t know I was encroachin’ on your territory, fellas.” She says with a shrug. “Not that I give a shit.”

“Boss says you doin’ business anywhere in this city isn’t gonna happen anymore.”

“Good! Sounds like I’m finally bein’ taken seriously.” She grinned. The slap that meets her face rings out across the dilapidated building. Harley hears the twitter of birds around her head as she shakes herself back to reality. She sniffs. “Look, this was fun ‘n all, but ya kinda interrupted me in the middle of a date, so I’m gonna have to get back soon.”

Harley doesn’t like the laugh that passes between all of them.

“Your girlfriend?” One of them says. “I’m sure we’ll have to go out and look for her soon too.”

Harley takes a deep breath. Meanwhile, her arms twist minutely as she begins wriggling her way out of her bindings. “Wouldn’t do that. Really wouldn’t.” She grinds out.

The grunt who backhanded her steps away from a table full of shining, pretty tools. She’s almost flattered they’re going to use new ones to toture her and not the rusty ones she was expecting to catch another bout of tetanus from.

“Oh yeah?”

The ropes around Harley’s chest and arms are almost loose enough to slip out of when a figure steps from behind a distant pillar. Harley Quinn’s stomach drops when she sees you standing there.

“You don’t have to, anyway.” You say, holding the gun at your side.

It’s enough of a distraction. Harley drops out of her bindings, already tackling the nearest genius within spitting distance. She’s halfway to the table with sharp objects when a shot rings out. Harley looks up at you, only to see it’s not you who's fired.

Another shot, and another one of Joker’s men is downed.

Harley’s not complaining. She continues to the table, leaping over it and taking a heavy wrench with her. In a matter of minutes, between the gunshots and Harley pummeling every grunt she can, the entire room gets cleared.

You stand in the same spot you were in— Swaying a little dizzily now. You gladly drop the gun from your hand when Harley rushes over to you, lifting your feet off the ground in a big hug.

“Sweetums! You came to save me!” Not that she needed it, you want to point out. But you had made the gesture— You loved her too much not to.

You cleared your throat as she set you down. “We uh, we came to save you.” You finally correct. Harley’s brows pinch, her eyes narrowing. She whips around.

She doesn’t expect the mask. He’s wearing a coat with a hood, and in this sweltering heat, Harley hopes that Rick is burning up beneath it. The mask fully covers his face, leaving no trace of his identity. But the two of you can tell— By the way he’s walking toward you, the way he holds his rifle over his shoulder— Rick Flag is standing right in front of you.

“I called him.” You breathed, your heart still pounding.

She folds her arms, sizes the ex-Colonel up and down for a moment.

“Hmph.” Is all Harley says before she’s turning on her heel and leaving the hideout.

The Three of you return to the apartment in silence. Rick’s taken off his mask, the front locks of his hair indeed plastered to his forehead from the balmy Gotham weather. You drive the convertible, pretending to listen to the music playing. Of course, you’re more preoccupied with the tension that’s threatening to swallow you all whole. Your eyes flash beside you, to Harley in the passenger seat, and to Rick in the rearview, sitting in the backseat.

You enter the apartment the same way. Harley heads straight for the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Rick trails into the kitchen after you, opening up your fridge and knowing exactly where you kept the bottled water. He chugs it like he hasn’t had a drink in days, some of it spilling down his stubbled chin and the front of his kevlar vest.

You’d always had his number, taped there to the freezer door. You kept yourself from calling him everyday. He wanted space, so he got it. Rick picked up immediately when you called him in your panic, your hyperventilating driving him to drop what he was doing and head straight for Gotham.

What he had been doing… Well, you had an idea. His gear is clearly custom made— The exact opposite of what Harley tended to wear. He looked like a proper vigilante, like Huntress, or Nightwing. And as much as you were dreading three of you having a talk, you had to admit, you didn’t mind the view right about now.

Rick arches a brow at you from across the kitchen. You rolled your eyes, a smile lifting the corners of your mouth.

“Didn’t have time to pack your summer suit?”

It’s Rick’s turn to crack a smile. It hangs there, a little lopsided, sending your stomach into flips. “Only got the one so far.”

So far.

So this was the path Rick was taking. You nod and accept the water bottle being passed to you. “You look good.”

When Harley’s done with her shower, she and Rick wordlessly switch places, Rick closing the bathroom door behind him while Harley hops to sit on the kitchen table. She kicks her legs sulkily, her mascara still clouding the rims of her eyes in smoky smears. You dab a little makeup remover onto a cotton pad and wedge yourself between Harley’s legs. Wiping the last of her makeup off, you tilt her chin over to look at you.

“What’cha thinking, Quinn?” You ask.

She shrugs.

You lean in, pressing a chaste kiss to Harley’s lips. She closes her eyes, though her own lips don’t move to meet yours. You shift, pressing another to her cheek, then another to the heart tattooed under her eye. You keep kissing her face until she’s cracking up, her shoulders shaking as she snorts.

“You scared me back there.” You whisper, taking her hands in yours. You marvel at the way Harley Quinn can do so much damage with her hands, and still hold yours so gently.

“What, with the silent treatment?”

You chuckle. “With the getting taken dead or alive.”

“I told ya. Your Harley’s got bad luck days too.”

You smile, shaking your head. She quirks a dark brow at you. “What?”

“My Harley.” You repeat.

She grins as you plant a kiss on her neck, your teeth snagging on her skin in a playful bite. Harley makes a happy sound, her arms finally reaching to draw you closer to her. You slot yourself flush to Harley.

“I think.” You start, still peppering kisses along her bare collarbone. The fluffy robe she’s wearing slips off her slender shoulder, allowing you to nip across her skin some more. “You could use a massage.”

Her pale skin is covered in bruises when you remove the rest of her robe on the bed. Between the theater and the pier, they must have walloped her good. You kiss each one you find, your tongue laving over each dark, purple welt. Harley moans when you suck at a particularly swollen mark just above her naval. You grin, blowing a raspberry on the skin there.

Harley’s laughter makes you feel better. You also feel a stroke of fire in your belly when her legs come up to clamp around your shoulders dexterously. You nuzzle at her inner thigh, biting her until she’s writhing and tugging at your hair with her fingers. You oblige her, moving further up to press an open-mouth kiss right to her clit until she’s sighing and falling back down onto the bed. You hollow your cheeks, sucking on the swelling nub until the wetness at her entrance spreads down her folds.

By the time Rick is exiting the bathroom, a towel running through his hair, he sees the two of you sitting up, both naked on the bed.

You’re sat behind Harley, your hands working out the kinks that always built up between her shoulders. Her head lolls around, raglike, moans leaving her in a constant string. Between her thighs, Harley is fingering herself, her hand moving in time with your careful ministrations at her back. Harley bites her lip and she finally pries her eyes open to look at Rick standing there, his clothes still on the bathroom floor in a pile next to Harley’s.

“You still mad at me?” He has the nerve to say with a smirk. Harley scowls.

“You’re lucky you looked so hot in that stupid get-up.” She grumbles, and it earns a giggle from you behind her.

The scar on his chest has healed over, the harsh redness when you first met him faded to something paler— something less painful. His hair has grown out a little more now too.

Rick finishes drying it, tossing the towel onto the floor.

“Well. I'm either joining you or watching you. You pick.” He declares. He’s already half hard, standing there naked just waiting for the two of you to say the word.

You look at Harley, waiting for her answer. She seems to mull it over, until she finally draws up the hand that was just inside her, crooking her finger at Rick to join you.

Rick puts a knee on the bed, getting on all fours on his way over to the two of you. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around Harley’s finger, his eyes falling closed as he sucks the taste of her clean off. You shiver at the sight of them, of Rick pushing Harley back into you, of Harley lying down between your legs until her back is pressed against your bare chest. You slip your arms around her front, your hands closing around both her breasts. Harley let’s her head fall back to rest on your shoulder.

You watch her eyes flutter shut as Rick slips two of his thick fingers into Harley’s pussy, a small ‘oh’ forming on her lips. You grin, giving her another smooch. “What do you want Rick to do, baby girl?”

Harley looks up at you, biting back a devilish smile. “Want him to fuck the shit out of me. Now, sweetums.”

Rick’s already stroking his cock, nudging his way between Harley’s legs. Tanned thighs tangled with milky white ones as you watch Rick plunge his length into Harley with one shove of his hips. Harley’s back arches off the bed, her eyes rolling with a strangled moan.

Rick inhaled sharply. A low growl leaves him as Harley’s slick walls pulse his cock.

You feel the drip of your own pussy soak into the sheets as Rick starts fucking Harley— Like he’s making up for months of not fucking Harley like this every single night. You tweak at her nipples some more, pinch them a little rougher until she’s twitching and making little sounds.

Harley bats at your hands, getting your attention. She tugs at your arms till you’re sitting up more, looking down at her again. “What is it, hun?” You ask. You lean down and drag your tongue along the shell of her ear.

“Get up here.” She pants, tapping her chin. You clench your cunt at the gesture, eyes lighting up.

You shift back, letting her lie down on top of the bed— She doesn’t need to tell you twice. Before you throw a leg over her, she shakes her head, breathing out a heady, “Nu-uh. Turn around.”

You turn so that you’re facing Rick. He watches you plant your knees on either side of Harley’s waiting face, your nipples stiffening just from the anticipation. When you lower yourself down onto her lips, you feel a jolt as a tongue laps up to swipe at your wet folds. Harley hums as she tastes you.

Rick curses under his breath at your expression, still drilling into Harley. “Fuck— Missed you— need you both. Christ.”

His panting’s feral now— Hot and fast as his hips rolling to pound into Harley. He’s got her by both thighs, digging his nails into her flesh. Her toes curl, heels digging red marking into his lower back.

As he thrusts into her, Harley knocks up and down the sheets, her breasts bouncing. It makes her head bob too, every fucking plunge of Rick’s cock driving Harley’s tongue into your pussy.

Your head falls back as she points it, trailing it up and down your slit. You have to reach back and tangle your fists into the pillows, your hips meeting the stroke of her tongue around your clit. You let out a whimper.

“Relax for me, [y/n].” Rick commands with a groan, glancing up to see your rigid, spread legs and arching back above Harley. Your muscles loosen as you do as he says.

The two of you look fucking beautiful. At his height, Rick can lean forward, adjust his hips so he’s fucking Harley relentlessly and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out, hand flying up to yank at his hair. He lets out a moan, the skin on the back of his neck raising.

You jump when you feel a finger enter you. You can almost feel Harley grinning against your thigh. She barely gives you a moment before she’s pushing in a second, her tongue joining them again as it flattens to press against your peak. Your mouth falls open as you let your eyes close.

“Oh, fuck— you feel so good.” You sob, your knees shaking. You gasp when Rick leans in to kiss you on the mouth, the taste of Harley still lingering on him. He bites your bottom lip with a sharp tug, making your thighs clench. Beneath you, Harley moans.

She’s sucking on your clit now, and the wet sounds make the heat in your cheeks rise. The sound competes with the way Rick’s cock is soaked and slipping in and out of Harley, their flesh slapping together as their hips meet.

You babble some more— Repeat their names as your hips begin to stutter and snap on their own. Harley drags fresh red lines across your thighs.

“Where do you want it?” Rick is asking Harley.

And she stops tongue fucking you just long enough to say, “You better pump me full of cum til I’m drippin’, Colonel.”

You and Rick both groan. The moment her tongue returns to your hot, throbbing clit, it only takes a few strokes before you’re doubling over, grasping at Harley’s waist as you come. The room tilts as you come back up dizzily.

She grabs you, makes sure you can’t shy away as your orgasm fades. Harley keeps laving at you well afterward, the overstimulation sending your hips into little circling thrusts. You press down onto Harley’s face until her nose is inching into you, your face twisting as you plead unintelligibly for her to keep fucking your pussy.

“Fuck me.” Rick grinds out. Your high, wanton cries are sending them both over the edge. And like the good soldier he is, Rick keeps keeping on, until he’s pressing the pad of his thumb down over Harley’s clit, circling and sliding over it until she’s cursing too. Until Harley is suddenly bucking uncontrollably under both of you, her own wails muffled between your legs.

Rick fucks Harley until he’s sure she’s done, and you watch with dazed eyes as he only takes one, two more thrusts before he’s coming deep into her cunt, a guttural moan finally tearing from his throat. He pulls out halfway, shoving himself back inside her roughly, her hips coming up off the bed. Harley feels his cock twitch inside her as her walls clamp down around him— Feels his cum fill her up to the brim.

You fall over to sit shakily beside Harley’s head, careful not to pull her hair. When you move to lie down and slot yourself beside her, she’s already lifting an arm to make sure your head is nestled on her chest.

Rick leans down to steal the taste of you off Harley’s lips, their tongues massaging one another until he pulls away again, a line of saliva trailing with him.

Rick pulls out of her slowly, his come already pulsing out of her wet cunt. He falls down on the other side of the bed. You prop your head up to take a good look at them both content and out of breath.

Harley is staring up at the ceiling, a wide, silly grin on her face.

You’re all a sweaty mess; The heat of the day is still high outside even with the sun low. You brush your thumb to catch a bead of sweat trailing down her cheek tenderly. When you glance over at Rick, he’s looking at the two of you, too.

You like the way there’s no thought, no trace of the idea of him leaving again on his face as he blinks at you slowly. You dare to imagine there’ll be more days like this in the future — With the three of you.

You yelp when Harley drags you out of your thoughts— by slapping you and Rick soundly on both your stomachs hard enough that some of the wind leaves your lungs.

She beamed. All was forgiven, it appeared.

“So.” Harley said, glancing between you two. “Are we gonna order a pizza tonight or what?”

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