#your big nose doesn't fit in my coat pockets!! stop trying

[hedgehog-moss]

The farmer I buy hay (and some firewood) from hasn't had time for deliveries yet, and he texted me yesterday to ask what I needed most urgently, hay or wood. Selflessly, I said hay.

That /is/ the gate for hay deliveries! Great memory, Pirlouit. I see what are the important spots in your mental map.

I hope you realise that I'm sacrificing myself for you. By telling our neighbour to prioritise your food over my comfort.

But even if I didn't, I would prioritise you and your hay because I love you. I would freeze to death to ensure you are fed

Would you share your hay with me, though?

I see.

#crawling along #i think of gollum's ''what has it got in its pocketses?'' every time pirlouit tries to raid my pockets with mounting frustration #your big nose doesn't fit in my coat pockets!! stop trying #and you don't even like mints #i tried to give him one once for a taste and it was too minty for him and he spent 30s panting with his mouth wide open #like my baby cousin when she stayed over and forgot her kid toothpaste and had to use my grown-up one #same look of betrayal

[ragingpancake]

Menace 2 Society

Set during any time period when Rodney and the gang are on Earth. Possible The Return era. John's away and Rodney finds out a life of crime really isn't for him even though he's really good at it. ~1600 words. Crack.

Author's Note: a repost from my old livejournal, written for @popkin16 allllllll the way back in 2011.

The alcohol stopped burning several shots ago. Now, it slides down as easily as a glass of water (hold the lemon) so he downs the cheap whiskey and motions for another. He thinks the bartender is smirking as he slides the glass across the counter, so Rodney salutes him sloppily with two fingers. "To," he hiccups and burps. Half the liquid sloshes out of the tiny glass as he raises it in thanks. "T'you. For keepin' the good stuff comin'," he says. Or at least that's what he tries to say but it's possible he's speaking Ancient. He swallows and drops the glass back to the smooth bar top and leans over, pressing his face against the cool wood. It feels good and he wants to close his eyes and just sleep. It's not like anyone would miss him anyway.

He sighs and rubs his cheek against it and then he sighs some more. This has turned out to be a spectacularly shitty day. "Ca'I get one more?" Rodney asks. He wiggles a single finger in the bartender's direction, but he will not be swayed. "Sorry buddy. I think you've had enough." It sounds familiar and Rodney remembers even though he came here to forget. "Says who?" He asks, drawing himself up to full height. It's most likely ineffective because he can feel himself swaying on his bar stool. He'll be lucky if he doesn't topple right over into the floor like Humpty Dumpty and that's enough to set him off in a fit of manly giggles. He mumbles the nursery rhyme under his breath--at least, he means to--as he stumbles to his feet and wrestles his wallet out of his back pocket. His fingers, normally so deft and skilled, feel fat and totally useless as he opens the flap and wrestles a wad of money out. It isn't easy but eventually he's successful. He tosses a couple tens down on the counter. "S'been real, m'man!" He calls to the bartender and sweeps his jacket gracefully off the back of the stool. Well, he thinks he sweeps it gracefully off the back of the stool except he's not graceful even under the best of circumstances and drunk out of his mind doesn't really count. He almost falls, but he compensates and manages to keep himself upright. He's the fucking man. "Smooth, McKay," he congratulates himself and saunters--stumbles--towards the exit. Rodney has one hand on the doorknob when the sound of raised voices catches his attention. He whirls around, but when he stops, the room keeps going and it takes a minute until it stops spinning until for him to see the cause of the argument. A guy who reminds him vaguely of Ronon save for the awesome hair, growling a woman who's smaller than Keller. Normally, he would back out quickly before the giant spots him because this is more John's forte than his, but fortified by several shots of cheap whiskey, Rodney puffs up his chest and opens his mouth before his brain catches up. "Hey!" The woman shrinks back, seemingly trying to disappear under the table as the guy turns, narrowing his eyes at Rodney. "The fuck is your problem?" The guy slurs. Rodney hasn't thought this far ahead but he tries for a defiant slouch and glares. "You're m'problem! Maybe you should jus'... jus' shut up and yell at someone your own size." Had John, Ronon, Teyla or even Zelenka been around, they would have reminded Rodney to take his own advice because how many times had he yelled at poor old Miko over the years? The guy laughs and rounds the table, but Rodney doesn't falter. If anything, he stands--tries to--a little straighter and rounds his broad shoulders. There's a very teeny tiny part of his brain, the part that's going to be pissed at him for potentially damaging valuable brain cells when he's not so drunk, that screams at him to run, but he just holds his ground. "You wanna say that to my face?" The guy asks, so close that Rodney can smell what he had for dinner. It's almost enough to make him throw up. "I said you should jus' shut up." The guy reaches out and shoves  Rodney. The extra force is enough to knock him off his balance and he tumbles backwards into the coat rack. He's vaguely aware of the bartender yelling over to them, but he's annoyed now in a way that has nothing to do with idiot lab technicians. It's a struggle to get to his feet but he manages and this time when the guy swings, Rodney has enough foresight to duck. He'll thank Ronon later for teaching him to dodge the obvious blows and he'll thank Teyla for teaching him how to strike. His fist connects with the guy's nose and Rodney can feel the satisfying crunch under his fingers. "I did it!" He says, mildly surprised at actually landing a hit. The excitement doesn't last long though because he's only served to piss the guy off even more and this time when he swings, he doesn't miss. Rodney takes a couple of punches, but they're nothing compared to the beating he would have received before Atlantis, before Ronon

and Teyla, before John. They've taught him to use his bulk, his broad shoulders and big hands, to his advantage and while he doesn't escape completely unscathed, he's pleased to see that the other guy is no better off. Of course, he has exactly three point five seconds to celebrate before his arms are shoved behind his back roughly and held in place by the cool metal of handcuffs. A bar fight and an arrest all in one night? John would be so proud. And it's with that thought that Rodney doubles over and empties the contents of his stomach on the floor. --- There's nothing remotely exciting about being arrested, Rodney thinks mournfully as he shifts in the cracked plastic chair. He doesn't even get to go to real jail. Instead, he's being held in the processing room at the local police department, staring dumbly at the back of the officer's head. He's slouched down in a computer chair, playing Solitaire. Rodney wonders what it means about local law enforcement when they can't even win at that. He wisely keeps this thought to himself. "Don' I get a phone call?" He asks. His head is starting to ache and while he's sure he's already thrown up everything he's eaten in the last year and a half, he still feels like he's going to be sick. He really just wants Carter or hell, even Daniel Jackson to come get him so he can go home and sleep for a month. Or at least until John comes back. "Nope," the officer drawls and that's the end of that. Well okay then. He slumps miserably in his seat, handcuffs clinking the metal rail he's attached to. He really just wants to go home. Not home home but Atlantis home where everything was good and John wasn't being stupid and gallivanting off to another planet in the Milky Way with his brand new team. Without Rodney. Apparently, alcohol was counterproductive because while it was supposed to make him forget, it's all he can think about. He's pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a quiet click and when the door opens up, Rodney can hardly believe his eyes. "Hey buddy," John greets, smiling lazily like Rodney isn't handcuffed for a reason that doesn't involve kinky sex. "What are you doin' here?" "Bailing you out," John says easily. "And really? A bar fight? What were you thinking?" "I was amazing," Rodney says, smiling despite himself. He goes to stand and then remembers he can't exactly go anywhere, so he flops down into the chair and sighs loudly. "John?" "Yeah buddy?" "Can we go home now?" John just grins. --- By the time they make it to Rodney's apartment, Rodney's ready to seriously pass out. He's exhausted and his face is hurting from where that Neanderthal's fist connected with it, but mostly, he's just so happy John is back that he wants nothing more than to get upstairs, get naked and sleep for a month. This time with John. It's a chore to get out of the car and up the stairs, but when John finally shoves the apartment door open, Rodney stumbles in gratefully. "You left me," he accuses halfheartedly as he pulls his shirt over his head with clumsy hands, throwing it onto the back of the couch. "Big jerk. S'your fault, y'know." "It's my fault you got arrested?" "Yes," Rodney sighs. John doesn't argue; he grabs the shirt from the couch and then steers Rodney into the bedroom and Rodney is positive that he's stifling a laugh when he face plants onto the bed. "Turned me into a hardened crim'nal. S'all your fault," he mutters, muffled by the mattress. "A hardened criminal, huh?" "You make me crazy." "I feel the same way about you," John says fondly. The bed dips under John's weight and a second later, Rodney finds himself cuddled up against John's side. He presses his face against John's neck and breathes in his scent. "Don't go 'way anymore, 'kay?" "I'm not going anywhere," John promises. "Especially after this. Who knew a few hours apart would send you spiraling downward into a life of crime?" Rodney just nods solemnly and snuffles quietly against John's neck. "'M such a menace to society," Rodney mutters. John laughs his horrible donkey-laugh and

Rodney feels fond lips against the top of his head. "You're a menace alright. Get some sleep, McKay. I have a feeling you're gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning." Rodney's already fast asleep.

#sga fic #fandom: sga #mcshep #ship: mcshep #john sheppard #rodney mckay #crack fic #this one always cracked me up

[mikkomacko]

Christmas Magic 4

The clouds hang low in the air, heavy and grey with the warning of an impending storm. Y/n won't admit it out loud, but she really hopes it snows so much that the carnival will be closed for a few days so she can have some time off. Being out in the cold all day has begun to take it's toll on her, leaving her dragging and aching. She always gets sick after the holidays from working and being so busy, but it seems this year it was hitting her sooner.

Her shift on stage has been switched with Kevin's because her throat was too raw to sing, leaving her to man one of the gift booths with Emma. Her fingers tremble in the cold as she hands a gift receipt to the woman across from her, wishing her a happy holidays with the best smile she can muster. She knows it doesn't reach her eyes, it doesn't even come close to her eyes but at least it's something.

"Babe, you should just go home." Emma advises gently, restocking the candy cane pens. Y/n falls onto the stool, shivering and burying her face in her scarf.

"I can't," she mumbles through the fabric, "Ophelia starts Christmas break this week and I promised Harry I'd help watch over her, and I can't do that if I have to work from taking off days today."

"Well you won't be able to watch her anyway if you're still sick. I'm sure McDreamy won't want you around his daughter." Emma points out, matter of fact-ly.

Y/n rolls her eyes, but she knows Emma has a point. She can't risk getting Ophelia sick, but she can't bail on Harry either (not that she'd ever want to).

"I'm gonna go get more tissue." Y/n grumbles, ignoring the way Emma cockily snickers behind her. Boots crunching in the snow and hood pulled high over her head, y/n finds the nearest bathroom and immediately stuffs her pockets with paper towels. They make her nose raw but she'd rather that than have a drippy nose all day.

Y/n ignores the mirror, knowing it'll just highlight her dark eyes and red nose against her pale skin and chapped lips. But the bathroom is warm, so she props her butt against the sink, back facing the mirror she's avoiding, and pulls her phone out of her coat pocket. She's got a text from Harry and the room heats up a couple degrees.

Ophelia's Papa 🌻: Dinner tonight? The little Miss (and Nipper) miss you desperately :)

She bites back her smile.

Dinner with Ophelia and Nipper?! That's tempting...

His reply comes within minutes, and she's glad he's not busy because she doesn't feel like going back to work while waiting for a reply.

Ophelia's Papa 🌻: And me too of course

Y/n tries not to giggle like a middle school girl, but she can't help herself when it comes to Harry.

Oh yeah you too, of course

She can picture his little scowl and the little wrinkle that creases between his eyebrows, remembering all the times over their past couple dates that she's longed to run her fingers over his face, smoothing out the mark.

Ophelia's Papa 🌻: Is that a yes love?

Her smile falls, knowing she shouldn't be going to have dinner with him tonight. She needs to rest so she can get better. She can't hang around when Harry and Ophelia are at risk of getting sick.

I wish I could but I've got something important I have to do tonight :( I'm really really sorry

Y/n has always hated telling people when she's sick. They always give her that concerned once-over, or rub her back like that's the cure, and tell her the same ol' "drink water, eat bananas, sleep." As if she doesn't know how to take care of herself.

Ophelia's Papa🌻: Don't be sorry, we've got a whole week to eat dinners together :)

She send him back a gif of Creed Bratton smiling widely, deciding it's time to head back outside. Her phone gets returned to her pocket, and she shuffled into the cold, sinking into her jacket as much as possible. Back at the booth, Emma is ringing up a family of four, smiling brightly at them and y/n realizes how miserable she must look next to the walking sunshine she's working with.

Emma must noticed the dejected look on her face because she pouts, nudging y/n to the corner of the tent when the wind won't hit. "You should really just go home. Clark won't mind."

She nods. Clark is a good boss, and he knows y/n loves her job and won't do anything to risk losing it. And he'd probably have a fit if he knew she were dealing with customers while being ill.

"I guess y-"

"Surprise y/n!"

Both Emma and y/n jump at the loud screech, finding two guests at the checkout counter. Harry's smiling sheepishly, his big glove clad hand cupped over the bottom half of Ophelia's face. Her eyes smile at y/n as she waves a little mitten at her.

"Didn't mean to scare you." Harry says apologetically, removing his hand from her face to push something on the counter forward. Y/n steps around Emma, heading towards them.

"Was more loud than scary." Y/n chuckles, hoping Harry can't pick up on the roughness of her voice. On the counter sits a to-go cup, the side of it marked in thick ink indicating it's a hot chocolate from "Harry and Sweets :)."

"Ophelia said you liked cinnamon on yours. I hope that's okay."

Y/n's chest pounds, the simple gesture making her realize how shitty today's been and how much she really appreciates Harry. "It-its perfect."

Y/n wraps her hands around the warm cup, lifting it up to her lips for a drink. She meets Harry's gaze, and instantly his smile falls and his eyebrows pinch together.

"Do you like it y/n?" Ophelia murmurs, swinging her feet back and forth, brushing against Harry's jeans with each swing.

"I love it Sweets, thank you so much."

Ophelia, satisfied with the answer wiggles until Harry places her on the ground, eyes not leaving y/n's face. Ophelia wanders into the tent, tip-toeing to look at the snow globes on the table to their right.

"You feeling alright?" Harry asks her, pinching the pointer finger of his right glove and tugging it off. Y/n nods, feeling embarrassed when he places his cold hand against her face. His frown deepens.

"You've got one hell of a fever love." She tries to act shocked, as if she didn't know she's been sweating but shivering the whole day, but Harry sees right through her. "Why didn't you tell me you're not feeling well?"

Y/n shrugs, taking another sip of her hot cocoa. Harry sighs, coming around the counter to stand next to her. "You should be at home, resting, with a certified nurse that can take care of you."

"I don't want to get you or Ophelia sick! That's why I couldn't come to dinner tonight!"

Harry simpers, and y/n huffs as she realizes she's given away her 'plans' for the night. "Oh, your plans were being poorly, huh?"

She rolls her eyes at his teasing tone. "No."

"No?"

"My plans were to get better tonight." She admits quietly, and Harry chuckles warmly. A grin tugs at her lips, falling into Harry when he gently coaxes her into his chest and kisses the top of her head through her coat.

"Well now your plans are to go home, pack a change of clothes, and I'll pick you up at four." He smiles innocently, bopping her nose when he opens her mouth to protest. "Doctor's orders love. You're staying in the Styles' Ward tonight."

Ophelia attaches herself to y/n's legs, tugging on her jacket so she'll look down at her. "The Styles' Ward is the best one! Daddy makes good food for the patients in there!"

"Is that so?" Y/n hums, brushing a stray curl off Ophelia's forehead.

She nods, dimples sinking into her chubby cheeks. "And he takes real good care of you?"

Y/n purses her lips, pretending to be deep in thought. "I think I'd rather have Nurse Nipper. Is he available?"

Ophelia laughs, and y/n's chest swells in pride. "Good choice. He's the best."

She squeals when Harry scoops her up, holding her bridal style and giving her a half-hearted glare. "What was that you just said?" He blows raspberries into her red cheeks, and she's laughing and squirming until he finally stops.

"Can I have a snow globe daddy?"

Y/n snorts at her way of changing the subject, peeking over her shoulder to find Emma pretending to be busy with rearranging the plushies.

"After saying Nipper's a better nurse? I don't think so Baby Cakes." Harry situates her back on his hip, pushing her bottom lip back into her mouth when she pouts. "You've got a couple at home, how many more do you need?"

"I need them all daddy." Ophelia whines, slumping against his shoulder. Harry rolls his eyes, holding back an amused smile.

"You've got yourself a handful there, Styles."

He pats the top of Ophelia's head, chest puffing out proudly. "Just like her daddy." He winks, chuckling when y/n shakes her head at the underlying message he's giving her. She quickly buries her face in her coat, hoping he can't see her blush. Harry Styles really is a handful.

~

The knock on her door is expected, as is the man and five year old behind it, even if they're a little earlier than she thought they'd be. Still manages a smile, despite feeling as if she's been run over by a small car.

"We're gonna have a sleepover!" Ophelia screams, barreling from behind Harry's legs and through the door. Harry lunges forward to try and grab her but she's quicker than him, disappearing behind y/n. "Ophelia Jewel!" Harry calls scoldingly but y/n shushes him.

"S'okay. Glad she's excited to be here." Behind her Ophelia bursts into giggles about something and she wonders what the little one happened to find.

"Still not polite." Harry mutters, following her into the apartment. He takes off his boots at the door, lining them up against the wall before grabbing the little pair of Chelseas that are haphazardly kicked off. "She let's her curiosity get the best of her sometimes."

Y/n shrugs in a "kids-will-be-kids-" kind of way, shutting and locking the door behind her. Ophelia giggles again, pulling both their attentions to where she's sat herself on the couch, y/n's couch blanket thrown by her feet and watching the Goofy Movie.

"Goofy huh?" She doesn't have to look at Harry to see his smirk.

She scoffs, defensive. "It's funny."

A hearty laugh, the perfect little guffaw Goofy makes cuts through the room, and Ophelia's squealing in laughter on the couch. Y/n to Harry, who's just smiling at her bashfully.

"Did you just?"

Harry answers her with another guffaw, Adams's apple bobbing in his neck from the impression. Y/n can't help but laugh and Harry snorts into his normal rumble of a chuckle.

"Daddy," Ophelia giggles, bringing his attention to where she's sprawled out in the warm spot of the couch that y/n had been laying on. "stop being Goofy. You're Harry, not Goofy."

Harry falls onto the couch next to her, leaning back so he's squishing her and she shoves with all her might at his shoulders but Harry doesn't budge. "Daddy! No, I'm going to pop!"

Y/n and Harry chuckle, Harry finally moving to the chair next to the couch so Ophelia can relax again. Y/n watches her wiggle her sock covered feet under the blanket, kicking and squirming until it's covered up to her knees. Chuckling quietly, y/n pulls the blanket up to Ophelia's chest.

"You ready to go?" Harry asks her, fondly looking over her. She wonders if he saw her tuck Ophelia in and the thought of him looking at her like that for caring for his child makes her giddy.

"Finish the movie first daddy." Ophelia grumbles. Harry sighs, but he's still smiling when y/n squishes into the chair with him. He throws his arm around her, brushing hair out of her face.

"Did you take some medicine?" Harry murmurs in her ear, breath hot on her skin. Y/n hums a yes, eyes stuck on the TV until Harry quietly guffaws in her ear, and then she's giggling, turning to look at him. He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, making her still and look over at Ophelia worriedly. She doesn't know how Ophelia feels about sharing Harry, and maybe they shouldn't be so open in front of her in case she doesn't like it.

"She's fine love," Harry assures her, combing his fingers through her hair. "She's just fine."

Her stomach twists with apprehension, but she trusts Harry to know his daughter, so she just nods and relaxes back into the chair next to him. She can't help but giggle every time he gets whiney for attention and guffaws in her ear, smiling proudly when she beams at him.

~

The electrical fireplace hummed lowly through the small living room, heat wafting off of it and warming y/n. Blinking sleep from her eyes, she takes in the now dim lighting, and the re-run of Modern Family playing on the tv. Judging by how dark the room is, Ophelia is already in bed and Harry's probably already cleaned up the kitchen. Confirming her thoughts, Harry let's out a quiet snicker from the bottom of the couch, and she realizes her feet are propped up in his lap.

He doesn't see her move, too focused on the TV in front of him. His bottom lip is squished between his teeth, trying to hide the smile his dimples are giving away, and his eyes are shining with the light of the TV. The fire flickers, casting dark shadows over the orange glow of his face, and he reaches up to rub his knuckle against his nose as y/n shifts onto her back. Harry's head turns towards her, teeth finally releasing his lips into a sweet smile.

"Hey, you're up." He states quietly, massaging her foot through the thick blanket over her. She nods, swallowing a couple times because her mouth is so dry from sleeping with it open. "How are we feeling? We need more medicine?"

He gets up before she can answer, moving to sit on the edge of the coffee table so he can see her face more clearly. A hand comes up to her forehead, and she realizes that a thin layer of sweat is covering her skin and Harry's fingers are awfully cold.

"Can't breathe." Y/n croaks, shying away from his icy touch. Harry gives her a sympathetic frown, pushing himself up from the table.

"Let's get you moved to the bed and some cold medicine in you, okay?" Harry mururms, peeling the blankets off of her. He helps her up, hand on her lower back as he guides her through his dark apartment. Ophelia's door is cracked as they pass by, and y/n can faintly hear a music box playing inside. It makes her smile, eyes feeling heavy again. Harry's room is just as warm as the living room, the blankets of his huge fluffy bed pulled back, and he's left the curtains in front of his window open, so the soft street light spills in.

"I'm sleeping by the window," Harry warns playfully, chuckling when she pouts. "don't need you getting any sicker because you got cold."

"But what if you get cold?" Y/n retorts, falling onto his bed face first. Harry laugh, picking her legs up and swinging them onto the bed.

"Won't." He says simply, pulling the blankets up and tucking her in once she's flipped over onto her back. Harry feels her forehead again, brushing her baby hairs back and then he's leaning down to kiss the apple of her cheek.

"I'll be right back, love." Harry promises, and then he's disappearing through the doorway, leaving her in his bed with sore teeth, a stuffy nose, and a dry throat. Y/n huffs, brow furrowing when the air soothes her throat. She tilts her head up, looking around the room. In the corner, humming quietly she finds an old humidifier, white wisps flowing up into the room. The thought of Harry going through this all trouble to make her feel better has her veins rushing with heat, and she stops shivering, instead taking deep gulps of air into her lungs.

She doesn't realize her head's fallen to the pillows nor that her eyes have shut until Harry's disturbing her with a small chuckle. "What are you doing with your mouth open like that?"

"Humidifier," she hums, pointing lazily in the direction of the humming. "feels good on my throat."

Harry says something she doesn't catch but she's too tired to ask him to repeat himself, instead sitting up onto her elbows to take the medicine Harry's brought in. He drops a few pills in her hand, two of them definitely being Advil and the other some kind of gel medicine. Y/n huffs as she realizes she needs to sit up to drink water, moving until she's leaning against the headboard and taking the reusable Starbucks cup Harry's holding out. He watches her intently as she takes a drink, holding the water in her mouth and popping the pills between a small gap in her lips, swallowing all of them with a little grimace.

"You take your medicine backwards love." Harry comments, crawling over her and falling onto his shoulder with a grunt.

"No you do."

Harry snorts, wiggling his feet under the blankets and sinking down until they cover up to his knees. Y/n, grinning softly at the habit Harry shares with his daughter, pulls the blankets the rest of the way up. Harry let's her settle against his chest, both of them tilted to look out of the window, at the soft piles of snow building up on the ledge and the neighboring building.

She doesn't know what makes her say it. It could be the warmth of the room, or the warmth of him. It could be the way his heart pounds under her ear or how he's tenderly running the pads of his fingers over her shoulder. Whatever it is, she can't stop thinking of him. He's like a dream. An absolute perfect dream with his fluffy hair and soft pink Cupid's bow, his eyes that are far too pretty to not be considered Eden, the dark ink that decorates his soft body. The body that hugs and kisses and protects Ophelia, that's made up half of her DNA, that is so dedicated to his daughter the love practically pours out of him. She wants to be a part of that with him. She wants to be the other hand he holds, the other nose he dots kisses on, the other girl he loves with his whole being.

"I can't believe how lucky I am."

Harry doesn't flinch at her words like she thought he might, instead he just hums a quiet, "What's that?"

Her fingers trace over the laurel on his hip, eyes intently focused on the mark. "I'm lucky. Because I get to lay here with you, and-and I get to eat dinner with you and Ophelia, and just be with you two. You could've picked anyone in the world to have here with you and I can't believe it's me."

She tears her gaze away from his abdomen when she feels him look down at her, and the little double chin he's got paired with the endeared gloss in his eyes makes her insides puddle.

"Is this the cold talking or do you really think you're the lucky one here?"

He cracks a smile when she rolls her eyes. "I'm not delusional or drugged, Harry. I just really really like you. Even if you might be a little too McDreamy for me."

Harry's hand comes up to her face, cradling it like she were made of the snow falling just outside their window. "You're the dream here. I can't tell you how many nights I laid in this same spot, hearing her snore through the walls, thinking this is how it's always going to be. That I was always going to be going to bed alone."

Eyes fluttering, she nuzzles into his warm palm. "You don't know how amazing you are huh?" Lazily, y/n manages to climb into his lap, plushy thighs cradling his hips and hands slipping up his chest to rest on his collarbones. "You're so sweet, taking care of me when I'm not even your responsibility, and you're so handsome as like just a guy, but then you're also a dad and that's even more attractive-"

Harry's cackles cuts her off, and it's so loud she has to throw her fingers over his mouth to keep him from waking his daughter. Eyes crinkled, he peels her hand off, bringing it back to his chest. "Got a thing for dads?" He asks, his teasing smirk shining in her eyes.

"No," she mumbles, blushing. "just this dad, I guess."

Her words morph the smirk into a sweet smile, the kind that looks like he might be holding back from growing too big but his dimples once again give him away. Harry breathes a deep sigh, looking over her face like he can't find the words he's trying to say.

"What?"

Her soft encouragement breaks it out of him. "I-I want you to be one of my responsibilities, if that's what you want."

As if all the heat from her fever had magically gathered in her belly, her stomach warms to the point it's almost unbarable. She can't look away from him, eyes stuck in whatever trance his are pulling her in with. It's when his hands cup her face that she realizes what he's asked.

"You ask all your patients to be your girlfriend?"

Harry simpers, shaking his head softly. "Not a patient, love. You're my y/n, right?"

Butterflies flutter around her chest, a smile taking over her face and all she can manage is a measly nod, too overwhelmed by the beaming grin on Harry's cheeks. She falls forward with a giggle that ends up making her cough, Harry rubbing her back as she tries to catch her breath on his shoulder.

"We okay?"

She nods again, hands worming their way under his torso as she clinges to him like a koala. "Perfect."

~

Harry has to run the store the next morning, briefly waking y/n to give her more medicine and then she's drifting in and out of sleep as he carries an unconscious Ophelia into the room, laying her on his side of the bed. He tucks the blankets around them again, kissing Ophelia on the head and letting y/n know in a whisper that he'll be back in a bit.

It's around a half hour later when both her and Ophelia finally wake up, Ophelia grumbling and yawning as she peers at y/n through bright green eyes. "Goofy Movie?" She simply asks, tilting her head so the mess of tangled curls on her head bounce.

"Sure thing Sweets."

They move to the living room, sitting on the floor against the couch and pulling up the movie on Disney+. Ophelia insists she's not hungry, laying on y/n's shoulder and laughing at everything Goofy says. Y/n is on the verge of falling back asleep when Ophelia pats her thigh.

"Max doesn't have his mom." Ophelia says timidly, and the seriousness of her voice chills y/n's bones.

"No, but he's got the best dad, doesn't he?" Y/n offers, knowing Ophelia's thinking about her not having her mother either.

"Yeah," Ophelia agrees, squirming closer to y/n. "but no one ever talks about his mom. I don't have mine either and everybody talks about it."

Panic floods her chest, heart thumping nervously. What's she supposed to tell her? What has Harry told her? Does Ophelia even know who her mom is?

"They do?"

Ophelia nods, moving so she's laying her head on y/n's thigh. "Josh asked why I don't talk about my mom, and when I said I don't have a mom he told me I was weird. All kids have mom's."

"Did you tell your daddy?"

Ophelia shakes her head. "Daddy's always said that he loves me enough for two parents so it's not weird because love is love, no matter who it comes from."

It's a terribly sweet thing to say, and probably the best way to assure a child that they're equally loved, but y/n can tell she's reluctant to believe it. She remembers being that age and wondering why she didn't have the same family as everyone else.

"Well when I was a kid, I didn't have my mom either." Y/n's confession widens Ophelia's eyes, and she sits up to look at y/n in awe.

"You didn't?" She breathes, and y/n thinks Ophelia didn't know that other kids don't always have a mom and dad.

She shakes her head, smiling because Ophelia needs to know it's okay, it doesn't make her sad to just have her father. "She passed away when I was a tiny tiny baby, so I just a daddy too. And he's the best, I never felt like I needed a mom because he was good enough for two."

"Do you miss her?"

"I used to, but I never really knew her so I think I just missed the fact that I could've had a mom. But like I said, I'm happy and I had a great daddy. And you do too, huh Sweets?"

Ophelia giggles as if remembering what a funny, wonderful father she has, and nods. "I do have a good daddy."

"And he loves you so much."

Ophelia climbs into her lap, little fingers playing with the ends of y/n's hair. She looks at y/n through her eyelashes, blinking shyly. "Do you?"

Her heart melts in the warmth of Ophelia's voice, nodding with a tender smile. "Of course I do. What's not to love?"

~

With her fever finally gone and sinuses cleared up enough to allow her to breathe, y/n felt shiny and new, sprawled out on Harry's bed, looking out at the Christmas lights in the snow. She can hear him talking to Ophelia through the walls, muffled and unintelligible as he puts her to bed. She's humming softly, falling into a peaceful trance until Harry's entering the room, closing the door behind him and rushing to the bed. She only gets the chance to sit up before he's hovering over her, mouth claiming hers in a heated kiss.

Her mouth parts in shock, hands freezing on his shoulders until her mind catches up with her and she's pulling away from his insistent mouth. "You're gonna get sick? What-what are you doing?"

Harry stares down at her with a look she's never seen before, but she sure doesn't mind the way it captivates her. "You told her you love her? You love my baby?"

Y/n falters, not knowing what to say. He's not mad, obviously, but she's still absolutely terrified that she overstepped. Maybe it wasn't her place to talk to Ophelia about parents but it seemed right, and Ophelia did ask her. "Y-yeah. I'm sorry, she was-"

Harry cuts her off with another strong kiss, cupping her face in his right hand. They're both breathless when they part. "You're so good," he mutters like he's talking to himself. "so fucking good. I don't-I can't believe I-" He interrupts himself by pecking kisses to her jaw and neck, panting hotly into her skin. Her hands slip around his torso, clinging to his strong back as he mumbles to himself in her neck.

"Harry!" Y/n gasps, belly tingling when he swipes his tongue over the vein on the side of her throat. Harry's hips jut forward into hers, her thighs tightening around his when she feels his hard member through his sweatpants.

"Fuck, sounds so good." Harry grunts, nibbling on that same spot. He earns another moan from her, her ankles crossing behind his butt and he ruts into her again. Warmth floods to her core, tummy clenching when Harry's cock perfectly bumps her clit.

Her brain swirls in her head, eyes fluttering shut with each moan and gasp that Harry pulls from her. Maybe it's not practical that they're already doing this, but it's Harry and she trusts him. She trusts him more than she's ever trusted anyone before. "Harry please!"

Her begging encourages a deep groan from him, one that has wetness pooling in her underwear and Harry continuously grinds his hips down into hers. He's slipping his fingers under the waistband of her bottoms when he moves to look at her. His cheeks are pink, pupils blown wide and lips swollen as he pants. He's beautiful, so fucking beautiful, even with the frustrated wrinkles on his face.

"I don't-I don't have protection." He breathes dejectedly, slowing the movement of his shallow humps. "I just, I haven't done this in bloody fucking years so I don't-"

"Its okay," y/n assures, leaning up to kiss him. Maybe it's good they don't have condoms. Maybe they should talk about this before they have sex, because they can't just think about themselves, they have to think about Ophelia and how this could affect all of them. "we can just do this, still do this please."

Harry whimpers pathetically at her pleading, head dropping forward into her shirt covered chest. He moves his hand under it, lifting it up and over her head. She immediately does the same, Harry grinding into her harder as he takes in the sight of her half naked.

"You're so beautiful," he husks, kissing her collarbones. "letting me have you like this, love on you. Sweet girl."

Y/n didn't think she had a praise kink, but Harry's sweet words are definitely winding her up more than they should. The coil in her stomach twists and twists, legs clenching and veins tingling. Harry grunts more compliments to her, punctuating each one with a borderline painful thrust against her clit, until white is blowing up behind her eyes and Harry has to quiet her with his tongue in his mouth. She still trembling, shocks of pleasure running through her veins when Harry stills, a deep drawn out groan bubbling out from deep in his chest. He stays against her as they come down, mumbling broken curse words under his breath and y/n can't help but giggle happily at him.

He opens his eyes to look at her, beaming and giddy as he pecks her mouth. Y/n kisses him again, tenderly combing her fingers through his hair and Harry rocks his sensitive cock against her again.

"Harry I don't think you can get hard again." Y/n laughs.

He chuckles, lifting himself off of her and onto the bed. "Was just enjoying the first orgasm I've had with someone else since I was in college." The awe and pure joy in his tone makes her soft, rolling over onto his chest and pecking kisses onto the swallow tattoo closest to her.

"Mmm dirty boy." She teases, playfully biting his skin. "You're someone's father, you know that?"

"Dad's deserve sex too baby."

She snorts, resting her cheek against his chest. He rubs her shoulder like he had the night before and she resumes her mindless humming, eyes growing heavy. She doesn't know how Harry hasn't gotten up to change out of his cum filled pants, but her brain is too foggy to ask. Seconds away from falling asleep she here's him let out a disbelieving chuckle, followed by a quiet "definitely need condoms."

She can't muster a laugh but she manages to pinch at his side, fading into sleep as Harry's giggle rings in her ears.

#christmas magic #harry styles #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles imagine #fluff #single dad harry #daddy harry #daddy harry styles #dad harry #dad harry styles #doctor Harry #Smut

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 8)

A/n: This part is super upsetting. Character death, graphic violence, I dare even say gore. Homophia, which I should have been warning a while back I am so sorry for that. Things are gonna get HEAVY- I am so sorry lol.

Word Count: 3800+

Playlist

Masterlist

"Nah, you're not crazy," Harleen giggled.

"Says you," Y/n teased, rolling his eyes. "You may have a doctorate, but you're also bias."

Her smile widened. "Okay that's fair." Y/n sighed, sitting back in his chair. He looked down at his hands, smile small as he got lost in thought. "What's on your mind?"

"Harleen is kind of a mouthful," Y/n told her. "Do you like the name?"

She tilted her head, as if considering. "I never did. When I was younger I had a friend who called me Lee, but with things happening-" Y/n's face scrunched up and Harleen snorted. "Exactly. Name's already taken- and it would be even weirder if I went by Dr. Lee, so I scratched it."

Y/n nodded. Then he sat forward, his elbows resting on the table. "So you've never had any other nicknames?" She shook her head and then shrugged when Y/n donned a surprise expression. "Well I have to give you one then. That's what friends do, right?" She grinned at Y/n's words and he watched the room get a little brighter. She was magic like that- as if she was made of sunshine. Her happiness was contagious, and she made the world a little better. She was accepting and also calm, making him feel safe as well as loved. She was his best friend and he was hers and they gave each other something they couldn't get with anyone else: unhindered fun with absolutely no expectations. It was an odd place to find real friendship in, but here they were anyway. "What about... Leena?" She immediately shook her head and he chuckled. "Uh... I mean, there's always Harley."

She considered that. "You know what, I like it." She crossed her arms. "Harley Quinzel." She nodded. "I'll allow it."

Y/n rolled his eyes. She was only like four years older than him, but had far too quickly fallen into a rhythm of acting like an adult talking to a child every once in a while, as a joke. Whether she was flaunting the years she had over him, or the schooling, Y/n wasn’t sure, but he refused to acknowledge it and it had become an unspoken inside joke between them. "What about you? I have to give you one now."

Y/n shrugged. "I don't like nicknames."

Harley tilted her head, the bottom of her blonde ponytail brushing her shoulder. "Why not? You like giving them."

"Well, yeah..." He bit his lip. "It's just, every bad guy has a code name, you know? Oswald Cobblepot goes by Penguin. Edward Nygma is going around as Riddler. Then there's Mr. Freeze. I just feel like if I take an alias, it'll be official you know? I'll be as crazy as the people I associate with and as evil as everyone says I am."

Harley hummed. "Okay, that's fair." She sighed, raising her hands to rest her chin in her palm. "Speaking of people you associate with. You and Jerome..."

Y/n's mood darkened. It had been a while now and Oswald was gone and Jerome still hadn't made an appearance. "I think he's mad at me." Harley tilted her head in confusion and Y/n shrugged. "I left with Alfred because Bruce needed me. Didn't give him a heads up, and then went missing for, like, months..." He shook his head. "Maybe he thinks I've gone back to my old life, or that I've left him behind. I just feel like he's avoiding me and one doesn't usually do that for no reason, so I figure-"

"What if he's just busy?" Harley proposed.

Y/n snorted. "With what? Reading a really good book series?"

Harley pursed her lips. "I guess you have a point."

"Why do you even care?" Y/n asked, raising his hands to knit his fingers behind his head.

Harley stared at him silently for a long time. She had the look on her face she always does when she'd trying to read Y/n's mind. When she's analyzing everything she learned in school and looking at the actions and words that he was currently giving as context, as well as past ones, and then somehow putting it all together to figure out the secrets sometimes even he didn't know. The same magic that made Arkham home also gave her the ability to read minds- Y/n had determined she was a proper superhero.

After she reached some kind of conclusion - she always nodded after she'd done the reading and then switched which leg was crossed over the other - a little smile teased her lips. She was trying to hide it. And failing. Y/n tried not to be curious. Usually when Harley didn't tell him something it was because he wasn't ready to hear it... but that smile. It was too late. He had to know. "What?"

Once he asked, the gate broke and she grinned. "You're in love with him."

Y/n snorted. "No. I'm not." The coy curl of Harley's lips added to her raised eyebrows to make Y/n doubt himself, even though he could feel his feelings and knew that it wasn't... he didn't... no way. "He's important to me," Y/n gave. "I care for him. But... love..." Y/n shook his head. "I don't know about that. There's been too much going on- I haven't had enough time with him."

She nodded, expression serious, as if this was a very important discovery. "I call Maid of Honor at the wedding though." They locked eyes as Y/n went to tell her off, but then a slow smile rose to her face as he realized she was joking. They both busted up into laughter.

"Whoever I marry, the position is yours." He winked at her and she flipped her hair, both of them giggling.

A timer went off. Harley stood, gathering her stuff and sighing. "That's my cue. Same time tomorrow?"Y/n nodded then stood.

He draped his arm around her shoulders. "You know, you make this place bearable. You're a real friend to me." He kissed her forehead. "What would I do without you, hm?"

She rested her head on his shoulder for a second before they began walking and it got too awkward to coordinate. "Probably the same thing I'd do without you. Be alone and miserable." She popped up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. He pretended to gag and she fell into a short fit of soft giggles. "You're an idiot."

"Ah and yet what I lack for a brain, I make up with a big-" He cut off and she groaned. "Heart," he enunciated. He smirked and she rolled her eyes. "I have quite a large heart, full of love for my favorite gal." He shook her slightly, making a point that said gal was her.

"Every lesbian deserves a best friend with as little brains and as big a heart as you," Harley joked.

"And every gay deserves a best friend with as much brain and just as much heart as you." He finally let her go as she moved to the door that would lead outside. This is where they parted- her, to home, as he was her last patient as per usual. Him, further into the Asylum where he would have dinner then return to his room to be alone and sleep. Goodbyes were the pair's least favorite part of the day. "Until we next meet, Madame," Y/n initiated, pulling away to bow deeply.

Harley grabbed her doctor's coat lightly, pulling it out as if it was a dress as she bowed back. "I shall count the seconds." They laughed one last time, waving before she turned and left. He watched her go until she disappeared. She turned back several times to wave yet again, until she couldn't see him either just by turning around.

The second she was out of sight, the world lost a little color. It was a little darker. His smile got smaller and Y/n's shoulders sagged. He shoved his hands in his pockets before turning back to the hallway that lead to his room, beginning the trek.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. People rarely touched him. The only person that touched him like this was one that Y/n hated so much that his hands curled into fists in his pocket, his face suddenly cold and empty as he stared straight ahead, halfway through a step- his foot on the ground and extended, but not carrying him forward as it had been intended to. He took a deep breath through his nose. Unfortunately, in all the chaos and people getting booted from Arkham after beating on Y/n, the one person that meant the most hadn't been caught because everyone refused to rat him out.

The man who'd started it all.

"You and her..." The older guard mused, a nasty smirk on his ugly face. "I thought you were gay." He said it mockingly, like he'd caught a child who hadn't said they weren’t hungry sneaking food when everyone seemed to be asleep.

Y/n rolled his eyes, forcing his body to relax as he faced the man. The monster. "Not every girl in the world was born solely for men to shove a dick into them, Jameson." The older man glared and Y/n smiled, getting satisfaction. "As a matter of a fact, Harley and I are just friends."

"You're pretty affectionate for just friends," Jameson argued. Y/n still didn't know the man's first name. He didn't care enough too. He didn't want another name that tasted bitter in his mouth. He already had his fingers crossed he'd never meet a cute boy with the last name Jameson, because the name alone would ruin Y/n's chances before he'd even taken a shot. No reason to make it even harder for himself.

"We're comfortable around each other." He rolled his shoulder back once, slightly stiff from sitting so long. Jameson wouldn't attack, knowing that Y/n would report him instantly- especially in such an open space, with cameras and the chance of someone rounding the corner any second - but one could never be too safe, just in case. "She gets me like no one else does. But, as you so wonderfully pointed out, I'm GAY." Y/n enunciated the word, going the extra mile by taking a step closer to stress it even more. "Girls aren't my thing."

Jameson looked like he wanted to deck Y/n. The younger boy's lips curved into a mocking smile in response. Now the guard was the one who had to control himself. "You guys have a lot in common?"

Y/n shrugged, too caught up in his casual gloating that Jameson couldn't act out like he wanted to- like he used to be able to. "Enough. We talk a lot. She's cool." He relaxed thinking about Harley. "She doesn't think I'm crazy. It's nice." He cleared his throat, focusing back on the enemy in front of him... only to immediately be confused by the very odd expression on Jameson's face. "What?"

"Nothing," the man dismissed, moving to leave. "I've heard enough. You're both a waste." He shook his head as he left and Y/n glared at his back until he was gone. Then the boy turned back toward the cell and finally made his way.

Man, why did he have to be surrounded by such assholes? Why couldn't Harley be around all the time? Why couldn't he be free? They could get an apartment and talk all the time. Help each other get through life and protect each other from unwanted attention. Be themselves all the time. Make jokes and exchange irritated expressions when idiots like Jameson said stupid shit like he always tended to.

Tomorrow. He'd see her tomorrow. That wasn't too far away.

He could wait until then.

-

Y/n's knees gave out from under him and he fell, cracking them on the cement. He didn't even feel it. His attention was being completely held by the TV, which was turned onto the news. It was a small screen that had been installed in one of the Day Rooms recently. They were rarely ever allowed to watch the news, though. In places like Gotham, far too often the news held very upsetting content that set inmates off- either into panics, or into violent rages. Y/n had stood to turn it off when he'd realized what news was being shared. Someone had been murdered. Old news. This was Gotham. Then he'd heard the name.

"23-year-old Harleen Quinzel was found dead earlier today. Her body was badly beaten, with words carved into her stomach. It was the cuts on her wrist that were the cause of death, though it's been determined that none of this was self inflicted. We received a photo of the body recently. Beware: what you're about to see is not for the faint of heart."

Suddenly the screen was showing the broken body of Y/n's best friend. The sunshine girl with the bright smile and the contagious laugh. The girl who was going to be Y/n's Maid of Honor. Y/n's better half. She was limp and unmoving, her eyes wide and empty. Her skin was pale, nearly white, except for where dark, huge bruises and blood discolored it. Her hair had been cut off, the blonde locks left next to her head but clearly detached. Her shirt had been rolled up to letters on her stomach- carved as promised.

There was an L next to a G, in a circle and crossed through once. Underneath the symbol read: Sinner.

Someone was talking, but Y/n couldn't make out what they were saying. A hand in his shoulder and he looked over to see a concerned guard. A woman. She knelt next to Y/n, but she wasn't the one touching him. No, that hand belonged to Jameson, who had a sick expression on his face- a cross between smugness and victory, muted as if he was trying to hide it, badly masked by some version of concern that was so unconvincing that Y/n ripped his shoulder out of the older man's hand.

He was on his feet again and running. Out of the room and to his cell- despite all the people who kept asking him what was going on, and someone in the very back changing the channel as the news reporter announced, "If you have any information, please contact-" Y/n ignored the rules. He ignored the people yelling at him. He ignored the people trying to stop him. He just started running and he didn't stop until he was in his room, where he opened the door and closed it behind him. His heart was ramming against his chest and all he could hear was the rushing of his blood in his ears. He saw black spots and felt an emotion bubble up that he couldn't even begin to put name to. All he knew was that it was dark and twisting and it was very quickly consuming everything good.

Something in him broke. It snapped off. Something vital. Y/n was aching, but he didn't know what it was or where it had fallen to as he lost it. He just knew there was suddenly a gaping hole where something very important used to be, and he felt absolutely terrible with it gone.

On the upside, he could finally breathe. His chest loosened and his body relaxed and as the door opened behind him, he turned to see the person with complete calm.

"Jameson." The word was not a greeting, but more of an observation. No. It was an accusation. The older man smiled and Y/n's insides began to twist and boil- less like a tightening of anxiety and more like a snake, seconds from attacking. "Why?" He stepped forward. "She was innocent."

Jameson scoffed. "You think you two are subtle? You two act like you're together and then talk about how you're not- you just 'get' each other." Jameson shook his head, cracking his knuckles. "You're spreading your sickness, Y/n." The snake coiled tighter, hissing and spitting. Y/n felt his calmness very quickly drop, perfectly placed with rage. His body didn't move, he just suddenly had a bunch of energy and he was waiting for the perfect moment to use it. "You two aren't quiet either. Strutting around here acting so out of line, in front of me. Acting like you're not being evil." Jameson scoffed. "You're evil, Y/n. And if they wouldn't let me punish you here, I'd have to get more creative. Even if you don't see it, you're in love with her. What you think you are is unnatural, and I knew if you could see how you really feel-"

Y/n's hand was around the man's throat. Jameson tried to push the younger boy away or claw his hand off, but Y/n just rammed him into the wall behind him. Jameson's head cracked against the grey wall, his efforts suddenly becoming useless. "You think I'm dangerous as a disease? You're so desperate to cure me. You're about to find just how very dangerous I am, Jameson. All on my own, with just my two hands." And then he began to squeeze. Jameson writhed and fought and clawed but when he started to get strong, Y/n would smash his head again or ram his knee into the man's junk and the efforts died down once again.

It took longer than Y/n thought. Jameson started to change color, his eyes bulging and his lips moving desperately but nothing coming in or out. Just when the man seemed about ready to pass out, Y/n let him drop to the floor. He gasped, clawing to try and get away. Y/n smiled, toeing the door gently closed. Jameson squirmed away, features taken over completely with terror. Y/n felt amazing.

"You will never hurt another person, ever again." Y/n squatted down, taking the man's thin hair in his hands. "Me however?" Y/n giggled. "You've helped create a monster. Know that every person I kill in the future is on your hands. Every injury is your fault. I'm not a violent person, Jameson." He snorted. "Well, I wasn't. But it seems you fuckwads only answer to violence, so..." Y/n shrugged casually. Jameson shook his head, choking out pleads for his life. Y/n snapped the man's neck and he stopped begging. It was so easy... The silence was wonderful. Y/n felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. "I'm done sitting idly while assholes run Gotham." Y/n stood, not even bothering to do anything but leave the door wide open as he walked calmly away, grinning like an idiot.

Something had been broken and lost indeed. It was Y/n's self control. His moral compass that kept him grounded and toeing the line between good and bad. It was the thing that kept reminding him he was a Wayne. That he was a good person. That he had a family that depended on him, in some way or another. That he had Alfred and Bruce, who he did want to visit even if he also wanted a life outside of them. That he had Oswald, who most often found solace in Y/n's sanity and depended on his restraint to reel him in when people were trying to set him off; Oswald needed Y/n's sense to balance his emotions. And, overall, Y/n was driven by pure spite not to let those damn reporters be right. He would be good and successful and he would show all of them that he could be more than the black sheep of the Wayne family. The disappointment of Gotham. The failure, always in the shadow of the Golden Boy younger brother Bruce Wayne.

But those people who Y/n cared about so much had let people like Jameson walk around, unhindered and unchecked. They had let him get beat up for a very long time before he was nearly killed and their hand was forced. They had let evil people run around and control things while they locked up Y/n for being gay. For being attracted to a man even though he wasn't a woman. There were murderers running wild, with super powers and incredible genius, but the problem people were deciding to focus on was that Y/n was gay.

Well, he was done with the lot of them. He was going to get out and prove to all of them that he was more than a Wayne. More than a mistake. More than a shadow. More than evil or good. More than Bruce's older brother. More than the one dude who had feelings for Jerome Valeska. More than one more gay plague on the face of the planet.

They wanted a monster? They would get one. And Y/n wasn't going to stop until he was satisfied, even if it meant all of Gotham had to die.

-

"Knock knock."

The door opened and Y/n looked over, his face finally showing emotion as his surprise rose. "Jerome?"

The redhead smiled, striding toward Y/n as if he has a tasty treat to share. "My little lover boy." Jerome hooked his finger under Y/n's chin. Y/n yanked his face away. Jerome frowned. "Are you mad at me, pretty boy?" Y/n glared at him. "I'll take that as a yes." He leaned backward. "What have I done, My Darling?"

"You've been avoiding me. We haven't talked in, like, months Jerome. What the fuck?"

"A tad dramatic," Jerome hushed. "And not totally fault." Y/n opened his mouth to argue but Jerome gently grabbed Y/n's throat, pressing his fingers gently into the skin. Their faces were suddenly very close and despite himself, Y/n suddenly felt a thrill to finally feel their skin touch as cheek brushed cheek. "I've been busy planning our escape, if you hadn't noticed." Y/n's eyes drifted to see a nervous Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch. "Come with me, won't you? I think we've been apart long enough."

Y/n suddenly began to relax. He didn't manage to smile, but he did get excited. "Well... lead the way."

Jerome left an excited kiss on Y/n's cheek, letting his hand fall away from Y/n's throat in favor of shooting into the air in victory as he giggled, turning to his two partners. "And so we all escape! Come now, we don't have much time." Y/n stood as Jerome lead the way, all four of the men finding their way out of Arkham Asylum finally.

The fun was about to begin.

#jerome valeska #jerome velaska #valeska twins #gotham #joker #cameron monaghan #male reader #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska imagine #valeska twins x reader #valeska twins imagine #gotham x reader #gotham imagine #joker x reader #joker imagine #cameron monaghan x reader #cameron monaghan imagine #jerome x reader #jerome imagine

[helloalycia]

cheater [two] | kara danvers

summary: just when you thought you were getting over your ex, she manages to find a way to weasel her way back in and make you doubt what you thought you had

warning/s: none.

author's note: I'll be posting part 3 tomorrow (the final part) so stay tuned! I've also got a lena imagine coming up the day after! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! :) 

part one | part three | masterlist | wattpad

Kara was becoming a frequent presence more and more in life as time went on. She was always there for me to count on, even when I didn't know I needed it, and I was extremely grateful. I wasn't even sure why she ever took a liking towards me, but I was lucky she did.

She'd come over to mine every other evening and invited me over to hers as well, and I welcomed the distraction whilst in the healing process of Anna and I's breakup.

I'd see the she-devil around work as little as I could manage, along with her new girlfriend – because of course they were dating now – but I tried not to let it affect me. Every time I found myself self-deprecating, I tried to remember it wasn't my fault. She was just a shitty person.

Eventually I stopped getting pitiful looks off people around the office. It wasn't helping with my self-esteem. Kara was a big help with that though, managing to glare people into looking the other way. It was funny after a while, how she stuck up for me like nobody had before.

I wanted to thank her somehow, for being there for me, but I wasn't sure what to do or how to even go about it. I wanted it to be meaningful, but I was never good at saying things outright. Maybe I could write it, I was always better with written words...

"...could do with a bagel right about now," Kara said, practically salivating at the thought.

I laughed, raising an eyebrow. "We literally just ate lunch. You're always hungry."

"Girl's gotta eat," she said simply, patting her stomach.

I rolled my eyes playfully, looking back to my computer for a moment. I was browsing Amazon for a new bookshelf and I asked Kara over to my desk for her opinion.

"This one," I said, turning my monitor around so she could see. "It doesn't look too hard to put together and it would fit well next to my TV, right?"

She leaned down to get a better look, nodding her head. "Yeah, that could work. Are you good at putting things together?"

I almost snorted. "No way."

"I can help if you want," she said with a laugh. "I'm pretty good at DIY if I do say so myself."

"Cheers." I smiled with amusement, watching how her eyes lit up at my dismay. Worth it.

My smile faded when I heard the irritating voice of Katy. I saw she was in our department, talking to one of the other reporters. Her whole being infuriated me and I could never control my annoyance when I saw her. She glanced at me, smirking, before continuing her chat with whoever.

"I can mix her coffee with laxatives if it makes you feel better," Kara spoke, gaining my attention. It took me a moment to realise what she said, and when I looked at her, I saw the seriousness in her eyes.

I cracked a smile, shaking my head. "You can't do that."

She mirrored my smile, shrugging. "Well, I could, but I shouldn't."

"There should be hearing aids invented that simply tune out her voice," I said, rolling my eyes a little. "She really bugs me."

"Yeah, it sucks, but at least it's a very rare occurrence that she's here," Kara said, trying to find the bright side of things.

"I guess, but– woah!"

I widened my eyes when I saw Kara suddenly reach in front of my face, catching a pencil sharpener in her hand. She looked down to me with concern and also surprise, before looking up to see where it came from.

"Oh my god, Y/N, that was totally my bad," Katy apologised, approaching my desk.

I stared up at her, surprised at the hint of mischief in her expression.

"That was supposed to go to Jack," she continued, pointing to the desk behind me. "I've got terrible aim."

Something told me only half of that was true.

"You should be more careful next time," Kara said, dropping the sharpener into Katy's hand. She was definitely not impressed as she added, "That could have hurt someone."

"Sorry," Katy repeated, flashing us an 'apologetic' smile before leaving to give Jack the sharpener.

I breathed out with relief, only just realising how close of a call that was. I looked to Kara appreciatively.

"Nice reflexes."

"Yeah," she said, half heartedly, still watching Katy with narrowed eyes, before looking to me. "You okay?"

"Thanks to you," I pointed out. "You really are my own personal hero."

Kara smiled, rolling her eyes as if to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Whatever."

I scrunched my nose, smiling at how cute she looked, before looking back to my computer. "I guess I'm buying a bookshelf. And you're gonna help me, right?"

"Right."

"Awesome."

***

Some more time passed before I realised how I wanted to thank Kara. It wasn't a big deal, nothing flashy or exciting. In fact, it wasn't the best thing ever, but it was all I could think of that didn't seem silly or fake.

I wrote her a letter. It thanked her for being there for me throughout everything, and how her being there brought us closer together as friends which I was grateful for. It said how I was lucky to have her in my life and so was anybody else who had her, too. She was gracious and kind one of those rare, beautiful souls that I couldn't let go by unnoticed without at least thanking properly.

I knew she didn't like big gifts and lavish presents, so I didn't bother. It wouldn't have felt right anyway – I wanted something more personal. So, I had the note ready to give with some flowers and a little Supergirl keyring that was soon to be explained.

I heard her knock on my door after work and that's when I readied the gifts on the kitchen counter.

"Hey," I greeted the blonde when opening the door.

She looked up and smiled brightly when she saw me. "Hey, I found those Jaffa Cakes you said you missed from home on the way here and thought I'd buy them for the movie." She held a packet of Jaffa Cakes in the air excitedly. "What d'you think?"

I stepped to the side to let her in, accepting the Jaffa Cakes, and grinned widely, unable to contain my appreciation.

"Kara, these aren't just something you 'find' on the way here," I told her, looking up to see her staring at me with anticipation. "You would have had to go to some sort of special store or something. Somewhere that specialises in British sweets and stuff."

Kara waved her hand dismissively. "It wasn't that hard."

I raised an eyebrow knowingly.

She suppressed a smile. "Okay, it was a little hard."

I laughed and moved forward, surprising her with a big hug. She chuckled, returning the embrace.

"If I knew Jaffa Cakes would make you this happy, I would've brought you a lot more," she joked as I pulled away.

"I've got something for you," I said, meeting her eyes with excitement.

"Not Jaffa Cakes I hope, otherwise this is embarrassing."

"Kara!"

"I'm kidding, go on," she said, laughing contagiously. "What have you got, Y/N?"

I put the Jaffa Cakes on the kitchen counter before grabbing the three items I wanted to give her.

"Well, that's a lot," Kara joked again, but I saw the appreciation glimmer in her eyes.

"Come sit down," I said, leading her to the couch. She followed and joined me as I sat down, facing her. "This is a thank you gift. It's kind of dumb, a little embarrassing, but I want to give it to you."

Kara had a smile permanently stuck on her face as she watched me. It made me feel a little nervous under her gaze, but I kept going.

"So, I wrote you a letter because I'm really bad at saying things," I explained, holding out the envelope. "English. Saying– speaking English. God, why am I so nervous?"

She laughed and accepted the envelope.

"But yeah, that's everything. So, you can read that first," I finished, nodding.

I watched hesitantly, as she pulled the note from the envelope and opened it up. Her eyebrows scrunched together with concentration as she read, and I knew I'd written a lot but it didn't make me any less patient to see what she'd say afterwards.

After what felt like forever, she looked up with an expression I couldn't read.

"I made it weird, didn't I?" I said, chewing on my lower lip.

Kara pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Y/N... I... you have a wonderful way with words."

I breathed out with relief.

"Thank you for saying those things," she said, resting a hand on mine, sending shivers up my arm. "It was sweet. And you're welcome."

I smiled softly. "I'm glad you like it." I held out the flowers adding, "These are for you. Just a little something extra."

Kara chuckled, accepting the flowers. "They're beautiful."

"And finally, there's this," I said, holding out the little blue box. "It's kinda stupid, but yeah."

She accepted the box, too, opening it up to reveal a Supergirl keychain.

"So, Supergirl is National City's hero, right? Well, I thought it would be funny because you're, well, you're mine. I mean, you helped me through my shitty breakup, and even before then, you've always been a big help with work. I just thought it could be a little reminder that I'm grateful for all the good you do. Like Supergirl, y'know?"

Kara lifted the keychain from the box and laughed, nodding her head. "This is amazing, Y/N. I love it."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said, lowering the keychain and meeting my eyes with her excited blue ones.

"Good. I... good."

She grinned, leaning forward to give me a quick hug. I smiled to myself, glad she liked it. My hammering heartbeat relaxed when we pulled away.

"Now to find a place to put it," she said, making me chuckle. "Wait a minute..." She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her keys, attaching the keychain onto them, joining a fluffy cat and some other keys. "There. Perfect."

"Perfect."

***

I watched as the barista put whipped cream on my hot chocolate and sprinkled chocolate powder on top, making me excited. It was a chillier day in National City today, so I was picking up a drink on my break at Noonan's when I felt a familiar presence beside me.

"Y/N, hey."

I glanced over my shoulder and swallowed hard when I saw Anna, smiling awkwardly at me.

"Here you go," the barista grabbed my attention, placing my drink in front of me. "Enjoy!"

"Cheers," I said, grabbing my cup, before turning around to see Anna still, watching me. "Er, hey."

"I see you're also on your break," she noted, nodding to the drink in my hand. "Tea?"

I shook my head, still wrapping my head around the fact that we were speaking. I'd been successfully avoiding her for a few months now, and eventually I got over her and what she did to me. I didn't understand why she was attempting to talk to me now though – surely she had gotten the hint?

"Hot chocolate," I corrected her, pursing my lips, unsure whether to leave.

Anna accepted her drink from the barista before glancing at me. "It's been a while since we've spoken. I've been meaning to have a chat with you. I know you didn't want to speak to me, but I thought that it's been a while since then, so maybe you're up for it now?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I don't really know what there is to say, Anna."

"Please," she added, her voice suggesting a hint of desperation. "I won't be long."

I felt the heat from my hot chocolate in my hand remind me that I was going to head back to CatCo, but Anna seemed like she had something important to say. And I felt like I was emotionally mature enough to finally hear her out, or at least be civil with her, for the sake of our work relationship.

"Yeah, sure, okay," I agreed reluctantly, before leading her to a table by the window.

We sat opposite each other, clutching our takeaway cups nervously, unable to meet each other's eyes. Until finally, she spoke.

"You seem well," she said softly, and I could feel her gaze on me, "since, y'know..."

"Since I broke up with you after you cheated on me," I reminded her, meeting her eyes.

She licked her lips, nodding. "Right."

"What was it exactly you wanted to talk to me about, Anna?"

"I broke up with Katy," she said abruptly.

"It wasn't exactly a relationship destined to work out considering the circumstances in which it formed, was it?"

She gave me a knowing look. "Y/N."

I shook my head. "What do you want me to say, Anna? How would you like me to react?"

She was staring into my eyes as if expecting me to know what she was thinking, but I didn't. Not anymore.

"I honestly couldn't care less if you broke up with her," I said, truthfully. "It doesn't affect me. Quite frankly, nothing you do affects me. I've moved on."

"I shouldn't have cheated on you."

I breathed out slowly, trying to contain any oncoming anger I was feeling. "I don't care anymore."

"It's nice that Kara is helping you through," she added, a hint of jealousy in her voice, making me roll my eyes.

"Sure is."

"Are you guys a thing or something?"

I stared at her dumbfounded. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. She was deadly serious.

I chuckled with distaste. "You think I owe you an answer? After everything you did to me?"

"So you are together," she said, a little disappointedly.

I clenched my jaw. "No, Anna, we're not. We're just friends if you must know. Not that it's any of your business."

She nodded, glancing down at her coffee cup with a hint of a smile. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes once again.

"Did you wanna talk to me just to remind me of all the shit you put me through?"

"No, no... that's not it," she said, meeting my eyes again. "I broke up with Katy."

I sighed. "You said."

"I broke up with her because I'm still in love with you."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise. Definitely wasn't expecting that.

"You don't seem mad about that," she pointed out hopefully.

"I don't seem happy either," I bursted her bubble, zoning back into reality. "This ought to be good."

"I'm serious, Y/N," she began, what I think was, sincerely. "I'm in love with you still."

I stared at her, so fed up of feeling everything because of her. I didn't even know how to react – I knew I didn't love her, I stopped a long time ago. But I was so exhausted with dealing with what she put me through that my brain didn't know what to do as she was speaking.

"You remember the part where you cheated on me, right?" I asked, quirking a brow.

"You're not taking this seriously," she decided.

"You bet your arse I'm not taking this seriously," I agreed, narrowing my eyes. "You broke my heart, Anna. You went off and slept with another woman whilst we were together – you cheated. You made me feel like shit."

"I know that," she said regretfully. "I know. I was horrible! I didn't appreciate what I had, okay? You were always so nice and loving. You cared about me so much and it became suffocating, infuriating! I hated it, that we were so..."

"Perfect?" I filled in for her, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

"Exactly," she said, her eyes softening as they met mine. "You loved me too much and I hated it then, but I miss it now. I miss us. I'm here to ask you for another chance."

I pursed my lips, wondering how on earth she thought she could have me back after everything she'd done. And now knowing why she'd cheated in the first place, something I thought I never needed to know... I didn't want to admit it, but it fucking hurt.

"You just told me that my love, the way I treat the people I care about, is suffocating," I said, swallowing hard. "Why the hell would I want to be in a relationship with you? Aside from the fucking obvious?"

I pushed my stool out and stood up, grabbing my bag and hot chocolate.

"Y/N, no, wait–!"

"You know, I don't remember you being this much of an arsehole when we were together," I said, staring at her one last time before storming past her and out of Noonan's.

As I headed back to CatCo, I tried to understand what the hell just happened. I was over Anna – I'd worked so hard to get over her, and with Kara's help, I had. I was convinced that I didn't need to know why she cheated, I mean, why does anyone cheat? I didn't think there'd be a reason. But now, knowing that there was a reason, and it was because of me apparently, it hurt. That same pain I felt those few months ago after finding out she was cheating, returned, even if it was for a split second.

Was I really too much when with those I cared about? Did I care too much? Was I too kind? Too loving? I didn't think that was possible, but now... I shouldn't have believed anything Anna said, yet it was lingering in the back of my head and I couldn't get rid of it.

When I reached my desk, I sat down and tried to get on with some work, but my head was still elsewhere, processing what Anna had told me. She still loved me, okay, that didn't bother me as much. I didn't love her at all, not anymore, not after how she treated me. She cheated on me because I was too much for her, too 'perfect'... that one was still a horrible thought embedded in my mind now. I had ironically pushed her away because I cared too much about keeping her close.

I'd barely gotten any work done when I saw a message pop up on my computer screen. It was from Kara, who was probably sat at her desk on the other side of the room.

KARA: Hey, we still on for takeaway and a movie tonight at mine? I'll let you pick the food.. :D

I was about to respond with a 'yes', but then I thought about what Anna said. I hated that she was making me second guess my friendship with Kara, but if what she said was true, then the last thing I wanted to do was push Kara away because I was too clingy.

ME: I think I'm gonna be staying late tonight to finish some work off. Maybe next time?

Yeah, that would work. I just needed to hold off for a bit. Kara and I had been hanging out quite a bit lately, and after giving her that keyring we– god, that keyring! That was so stupid! That was clingy, for sure. If I kept this up, caring for her too much, she might end up like Anna – feeling suffocated and trapped. I needed to slow it down. Give Kara some space to have a life, too. She'd been there for me so much that I barely let her do her own thing. It surely must have been annoying for her. The last thing I wanted was her hanging out with me because of some obligation she felt she had.

KARA: oh, okay, that's fine! anything I can help with? I don't mind staying back with you

ME: I should be okay, thanks anyway

I saw she wrote something else, but I decided to leave it at that and get on with my work. I still felt my heart hurting a little, and I wasn't sure if it was because of what Anna said or because of my newfound fear of losing Kara at my own hand.

#kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagines #kara danvers imagine #kara danvers #melissa benoist #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagine #supergirl